I really can’t moan about life in Dorset. People are nice to me and I’ve been accepted into the community. The locals find me to be endearing, a bit like one of those dogs that’s so ugly that it’s almost cute and madder than a box of frogs as an added bonus. Or, at worst, I’ve been accepted like a bad harvest or a squall the night before the biggest night of fishing. In relatively short order I was given a part-time position with enough hours to pay for my daily expenses — including my Waitrose and hand roasted coffee/hand blended tea tendencies. The landlady has made me her substitute innkeeper. She lets out rooms. In her absence, I will manage the house and sort out the housekeeping.

The only thing that sometimes gets to me is the same thing that gets to many people here. It’s bloody boring. Not to worry. I will go to Japan in October with Viking-type chum. That will be interesting. In a country where everything is said in allusion and euphemism, I will have to mind someone from a country where anything short of the most brutal honesty is considered a major character flaw. Before then, I will fly to Liverpool for a long weekend. Having taken our OZ’s recommendations into serious consideration, I’ve booked a room in L4 within minutes of the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Bloody Voters

Well, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The Tories have been in power since 2010. The hapless/hopeless/charmless/unloved/useless Toxic Tess’s government has a 29pc approval rating. Saint Jeremy of Islington walks on the Thames every day on his way to Parliament. The enthusiasm of young voters will make historical gains inevitable. Wandsworth, Westminster and Barnett will go Labour causing a Tory collapse in all parts of London, blah, blah, bloody blah. So far, neither party has done especially well but the Tories have held their own. That Labour are so desperate to spin an underwhelming performance as a great success makes one wonder if Saint Jeremy is even more useless and Toxic Tess.

California Dreaming (Via Sweden)

The problem with planning a trip nearly five months in advance is that you can never know what last-minute hiccoughs will arise. Travelling from Dorchester South to London Waterloo is generally speaking straightforward. I drag myself out of bed, clamber awkwardly through Dorset’s county town and board a direct train. Track work and industrial action made this impossible on the one day I had to travel to London.This necessitated drastic action; namely, National Express. Continue reading “California Dreaming (Via Sweden)”

It’s Not Over

Over four months have gone by since the last Hunnish election. At last, Hunland has a government. It will be another grand coalition. Despite having earlier misgivings, the Swamp Beast former EU “Parliament” President, Marty What’s-it caved in after extracting key cabinet positions. The Social Democrats will get the foreign ministry and finance. Merkel will be re-elected Chancellor by the Bundestag next week and will will go on as normal. Or it won’t… Despite being a grand coalition, this time there are far fewer seats. After all, both parties saw a marked decline in support. On all three sides of the coalition there are grave misgivings. Continue reading “It’s Not Over”