I have been following political events with great interest.
It would appear that our Prime Minister has been having some difficulties in his management of relationships with women.
We ought to have anticipated this problem really. There was that time a while ago when he tried to post a letter in one, although I can forgive him for that because as you know, he went to an all-boys school. You might remember that when Oliver was first thrust into an environment which also included girls, he was not entirely certain which ones they were.
I think that after a single sex education he could be forgiven for getting it wrong sometimes. He is grown up now, so he has probably got a better idea than Oliver had, but all the same he could be excused for the occasional confusion.
I do not know whose leg he might have squeezed under the table, but I am sure there will be a sensible explanation. It could be that he had dropped one of his chips, for example, and was furtively fishing around to try and find it before it dropped on the floor and got trodden into the carpet. This is a shocking way to repay a thoughtful host, and I think he was quite right to try and avoid it.
It is a problem that happens in the taxi sometimes. People get in with horrible polystyrene boxes full of horrible chips covered in cheese and mayonnaise. Even though I tell them to keep the lid closed and not eat them, they think I will not notice, and then make horrible chomping noises before dropping the whole horrible lot all over the floor. I had one customer a few weeks ago who was so infuriated at being asked not to eat his chips until he got home that he turned the box upside down, tipped them out all over the seat and rubbed them in. Then he got out.
I considered running him over, but I didn’t, and fortunately his friends were so embarrassed that they cleaned it all up and paid, so that was all right.
You can see why I might admire Boris Johnson for gallantly trying to avoid upsetting his hosts in such fashion. How heroic he is.
The sun shone in Windermere this morning, although not on the lake. The dogs and I puffed up the fells and looked down on the clouds, sitting damply on the lake below us. This is a very self-satisfied thing to be doing.
Mark went to work.
I went to the bank and put some cash into our everlasting overdraft, and then faffed about at home. I have been trying to make jelly babies out of a paste made of boiled apples and blackberries, both of which we have in abundance at the moment, but at the time of writing it was refusing to set. I think perhaps it may still have been too hot when I added the gelatine. All the same, it smelled wonderfully of September. There is a joy to cooking apples and blackberries, it is hopeful for the winter to come.
If it does not set I can always dump it in the bucket of mince pie mix and just add a bit more cooking brandy. Waste not want not.
I cleaned the bathroom and made mayonnaise and started organising our lives for our departure to the south tomorrow. I will have to try and remember that you do not need fur boots and thermal vests down there just yet, but I can never quite believe it, and we always end up sweltering.
Lucy has completed her first day as a member of the police force. So far she has learned that she must not commit crimes at all and that she has got the time wrong for the swearing in event that we are being invited to attend on Thursday, so we are going to have to rearrange our plans a bit.
She was very tired when I spoke to her, but said that she thinks she is going to like it. Everybody is kind and friendly and it is all easy to understand. She is looking forward to Thursday, when she will become a proper copper and allowed to wear a uniform.
I am looking forward to it as well.
I must remember to take some lightweight clothes.
I am sure I have got some somewhere if I look.
Have a picture of the morning.
