Post 332. FAMILY IN AGADIR, MOROCCO.

CATS COMFORTABLE AT HOME.

We thought Roz's cats, Spike (pictured) and Angel, might miss the dog Buddy, their pal from back when Roz bought
them as kittens and him as little more than a puppy. But with typical feline adaptability they have settled to a comfortable life here without him and thoroughly enjoy being spoilt by two old people. He is being looked after by a nice carer at Freshwater for the entirety of Roz's trip with Jess and Ellis to Agadir. 

One of their holiday adventures will be a balloon flight taking them over part of the Atlas mountains. It sounds wonderful and the sort of thing everybody should do while they are still young enough to enjoy it. 

Me? I love the idea but my heart will be in my mouth until we hear that it's over and they are safe. 

Incidentally, on the eve of their departure for Morocco our Jess received news that she is now a fully fledged Master of Pharmacy: passed her finals with flying colours. We are all so proud and pleased for her. She takes nothing for granted and was convinced - as she always has been after sitting exams - that she had not done particularly well. In the event her marks were spectacularly good. 

Well done again, lovely girl. 

POLITICS. 

THEY DID IT, TOO. 

They selected Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson (born in America, educated at Eton and Oxford) to be Prime Minister of the UK and Leader of the Conservative Party. 

A friend sent me the (surely of Irish design) T shirt picture. Well, let's see how things go when they call the next national election. 

Until then: Judico non hominem ab amicis autem suis hostibus.  
Mr. Johnson will understand that. 

TELEVISION. 

THRILLERS STILL FAVOURITE. 

We saw the second series of M.C. Beaton's Agatha Raisin (Acorn TV) and, like the books, it was tongue-in-cheek fun for those who cannot be constantly concerned about Brexit. We enjoyed it. So, apparently, did 96% of Google users. Won't you sleep better for knowing that? (No reply necessary.) I cannot remember whether we ever watched Keeping Faith but we have accumulated an impressive collection of back episodes of it upon which to binge when the time is right. My Leader will instantly recall every series we've ever seen. I tend to remember in bits and pieces and to gain full recollection only in the last five or ten minutes. (Yeah, I know.) In the meantime we are still occasionally beguiled by very very old repeats of Marple and Foyle. No doubt about it, the thriller is still my favourite genre. 

Now there is talk that the public wants a new Foyle series on its screens. I'll drink to that. It would certainly be better than another load of junk dealers or property related rubbish. 

Reality TV - which unashamedly proliferates - remains my bête noire.

AND THAT'S IT.

I've just seen my latest Post viewing figures.

Ah well.

As dear old Berkeley Grey once said: “What do I care? I only write the bloody things anyway.”

Post 331. ENGLAND WON. FEDERER LOST.

YEP. IT'S THAT TIME. 

You can't miss it in this country. 

Wimbledon and tennis tennis tennis on BBC television, at the same time as World Cup (don't ask me) Cricket which, apparently, England won by very narrowly beating New Zealand in the final. 

I gather this was 'one day' cricket: I have never watched it and I'm too bloody old to start now, but well done England, enjoy it while you can. 

As for the tennis. Well, the obvious favourite, Roger Federer, lost in the longest ever final to the reigning champion Novak Djokovic (the one whose support team looks like a police identity parade). 

They've played against each other so many times it would be decidedly déjà vu if they weren't so damned good. 

Anyway, millions watched and enjoyed it and neither of them is going home short of a few shillings and a lot of respect.

HOME. 

Our back garden has been given a bashing. 

Stuart and Dave and a rented digger have demolished what had become a mountain high mass of weed, to reveal the biggest back garden in Wootton Bridge. 

The bedraggled old shed has been broken up and burnt – to the expected complaints from the standard neighbourhood complainant (duly ignored) and some small trees have gone (at least for my lifetime). 

What will happen next? 

I haven't a clue. 

TELEVISION. 

Gentleman Jack. 

We watched Suranne Jones stride through this lively frolic and she didn't put a foot wrong. The real life character Anne Lister was clearly years before her time. 

As usual, in costume drama, the villains were starkly villainous and the pass-me-the-smelling-salts friend of the hero/ine was pretty and pathetic. 

I gather there will be another series. Good. 

Poldark (BBC One) 

In what purports to be the last series, Aidan Turner and Eleanor Tomlinson are back as the demanding goodies, with Jack Farthing still the definitive baddy. Looks like Poldark may be angling to single-handedly abolish the slave trade to America. He'll do it, too, with or without the interference of top brass.

Cheerio. Keep your powder dry.