Post 339. A SMATTERING OF ADVICE.

FOR THE WOULD-BE SCRIBBLER,

 

Do use a notebook.

If you are the would-be scribbler who, reading this, has the notion of writing a blog of your own, you may possess and even regularly use an 'ideas' notebook. If you do not, I strongly advise that you obtain one and keep it close at hand to instantly record those moments of genius you get when you least expect them.

I have a notebook and a couple of pads: gifts I seldom use (you may not be surprised to learn). I should use them. I would if I could find them. I just forget where they are and when I do find one I lose it as soon as I've made a note in it. I also kid myself, when I get what I think is a bright idea, that I will easily retain it in my head.

Big mistake.

Lord alone knows how many ideas I'll eventually take to the crem. with me. Reason I'm writing these words now is that the bright opening topic I thought up last week was gone from me by the weekend. You may well be less forgetful than me, but take no chances. Use a notebook.

The forthcoming election.

Back in the early days of this blog (Post 8) I wrote: I shall try not to mention anything faintly political again. I lied. But there's a lot of that about at the moment.

Faux humble pie was much in evidence on all sides by Wednesday evening of last week. Apologies abounded from leading politicians for just about everything from speaking their minds to breathing. This is, after all, the age of 'apology for everything.'

The exception to the rule appears to be the leader of the opposition who has adopted “Let me finish, please,” as his mantra whenever an interviewer attempts to interrupt his remorseless flow. 
I wait in vain for the interviewer to say: “No, Mr. Corbyn, you are here to be interviewed. If you merely want to perform your act, please do it somewhere else.”

By the same token, I do wish some top person, both in Health and in Education, had been bold enough to say to the Prime Minister: “No, Mr. Johnson, our hospitals and schools are not pawns to be used by smiling politicians with their shirt sleeves rolled up. Go back to doorstepping and give healthy grown ups the chance to tell you you're talking bullshit.”

As things stand I don't believe a word said by any one of them on either side.

I think the Tories will get back in. 
There will then be at least five more years of total chaos. 

FRIENDS.

Three old pals. 
'Anonymous' John, Ian and David. 
Both John and Ian have had a less than ideal year healthwise. Like most Brits I never quite know what to do or say at such times, but before the year is out I'd like them to know that our (Mo and my) thoughts are constantly with them, as are our very best wishes.

And (combination of dithery memory plus unacceptable inaction) I missed a chance to meet up with David recently. I am sorry about that. Had we met I might have told him how much I appreciated his email comment on the picture below: Just fabulous, I wondered where it had gone! Anyone get the registration number?

Now that's the reaction of a real policeman.

Good luck with the Christmas decorations.            
Mind how you cross the road.