Small Pre Bedtime Grumpings

Here I am, still living the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle. I’ve had a chip butty for my tea and am about to climb into my pyjamas and go to bed with the new Nina Stibbe (thank you Netgalley) on my Kindle. It’s called Reasons To Be Cheerful and it’s out at the end of March. I’m four chapters in already and loving it. It’s the ongoing story of Lizzie Vogel, so if you’re new to Stibbe, you need to start with Man At The Helm. You’ll thank me.

As far as book updates go, I finished Emma Mitchell’s The Wild Remedy and really enjoyed it in a gentle, non demanding way. If you like nature writing, or you just like to read things by people who love what they do and are passionate about the stuff they write about, you’ll like it. I’ve also read All Things Bright and Beautiful by James Herriot. You can tell when I’ve had a difficult week when the soothing literature comes out. It’s a sign that might be an omen, a bit like when my mum cooks sausages for tea, even though she hates them. You know to steer well clear when it’s a sausage day. If I’m reading books about grown men sticking their hands into sheep vaginas, it’s a similar thing apparently. Who knew?

I am fed up with my cold, which is getting better in such small increments that an ice age would pass quicker. I’m ok for most of the day now, but my ears and head start to ache in the evening and I feel like I’ve been hit by a bag of wet sand by bed time. The weather is shit. It’s not even excitingly bad. It’s just shit. Everyone else is having snow up to their eyebrows and we’ve just had a bit of rain and endless, biting cold. Bah.

I was going to tell you about the latest skirmishes in the great cat wars of 2019, but I’m too tired and grumpy so I shall save it for a day when I can do it justice.

In the meantime, I would like to finish with a short message for all those people who still think that Brexit is going swimmingly and that we will be resourceful and amazing and fashion our own shoes out of twigs and make award winning artisan jams out of potatoes that will be the envy of the rest of the world when we go crashing out of Europe in March.

I was listening to the Jeremy Vine show on Radio Two this afternoon while I was driving about, doing my errands. He did a section about the snow, and how the terrible weather in Cornwall forced hundreds of people to abandon their cars on the A30 last night, and those that didn’t abandon them, took fourteen hours to get home etc. The airwaves pulsed with people arguing about those that left and those that stayed and those that didn’t take snow shovels in their cars, and those that did etc. They argued about everything from too many weather warnings for the snowflake generation, to not enough weather warnings. It was, frankly, pathetic.

I didn’t see much evidence of our Blitz spirit and cutting edge, resourceful brain power that will lead us to be the envy of the Western world.

I knew I should have kidnapped Ray Mears and kept him in the cellar when I had the chance.

 

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