One day at a time

 The advice is clear.

“Just take one day at a time,” everyone says.

Excuse me while I swear. 

What stupid advice. Can you imagine? 

“Right kids, today we are performing a nativity. Practice? Oh don’t be silly, we’re just taking one day at a time.”

Although, on second thoughts, being in the middle of a run of nativity shows, you do sometimes wonder if any of the children were at the practices. No music teacher lives one day at a time. I’m currently putting events in my diary for events right up to and including this time next year. 

Life doesn’t work in chunks of one day at a time. Some days have at least seven in them and other days leave me wandering round corridors, bereft, asking if anyone knows what I should be doing.

This year, I mixed my diary up and put two weeks of events in the same week. In the first of those weeks I panicked, wondering how I was going to survive a music event every day and sometimes two and the second of those weeks has left me  a confused gibberish wreck, unsure of what day it is.

“It’s because people say, ‘See you at the concert on Thursday.’ They only have one Thursday concert before Christmas and you have four.” My wise fellow musician friend said. That was a relief. I just thought I needed to check where my marbles were.

It’s ok. They’re still in the pot

This morning, though, I’ve woken up with a cold. The obligatory, “Oh, you’ve stopped. You’ve got time for me,” variety that comes at the end of every term. 

NO! There’s another week and two days, 5 events, a weekend away to fit in before the end of term. I will not be ill yet. Not today. One day at a time and this is not the day. 

Said no one ever

 There’s a man that lives in my head. I only met him once. A guest lecturer. Salt and pepper beard, patches on the elbows of his tweed jacket, slip-on beige loafers with no socks and a slowness of speech that made you stop and listen to him. It was a throw-away comment that trapped him. Now, he pops up; his image as clear as the July day I met him, whenever the phenomenon he was talking about happens.

“The Taoists believe that you should pay attention. If you hear the same thing three times then you are being sent a message.”

This possibly stuck in my head because another student commented. The boy said, “When I got in the car this morning my gear knob came off in my hand. It was the third time that’s done that.”

Genuine embarrassment for the boy but hilarity for the rest of us. 

In the last three days I’ve heard the phrase, ‘said no one ever,’ or a variation of it three times and now this Zen-chap is sitting in my head, asking me to consider what it all means. 

It wouldn’t have been in any way remarkable if it had been 2015, when the phrase was dropped into conversation like punctuation. However, it fell out of favour after a Guardian journalist wrote a column suggesting it was no longer funny and should be retired. Maybe she didn’t have the influence I’ve given her and only wrote the article because she saw how bored people were getting with this particular locution. 

This week I heard someone say it in response to someone who said that they loved Christmas Jumpers day. Fair point. It might be fun in an office but with the rise in home-working, most people wear  PJs and a Christmas jumper all year round. And in schools…Well…the horror of one extra level of excitement when they’ve had chocolate for breakfast and are completely exhausted from all that being a pig in the nativity (pretty sure Jewish farmers didn’t keep pigs) But I do genuinely love a Christmas jumper. I would wear them all year round. 

Then I was watching the new Christmas film, That Christmas, where the line was repeated again. 

“Everyone loves watching children perform a Nativity, said no one ever.”

To be honest, it felt like a harsh criticism on my life. 

Music teachers in a library

Then, my lovely choir were singing at the library. A smattering of children from the senior school, who have thick enough skins to play music despite being called a nerd, were also there and I was having a chat with some fellow music teachers (a rare treat) when one of my kids came bouncing up. 

“Can we sing the song in Latin that we learnt last week in music?” she asked earnestly.

Before I could reply, the senior school teacher laughed an addendum. 

“Said no child ever!”

“Except those I teach,” I smiled back.

The child was affronted, “What’s wrong with that?”

“You’ve made my day,” the other teacher told her, “A primary school child wanting to sing in Latin. You’ll go to Cambridge, you!”

“Where’s Cambridge?” the girl asked, looking worried about how far she might have to travel. 

So, now the beardy man is sitting in my head. He’s just lit a pipe and is waiting while I consider the message the universe is sending. 

Maybe, like the idiom, I’m past my best and need to be retired. Or maybe I’m still enjoying doing the things that no one really wants. Maybe I get a perverse pleasure from torturing the world with Christmas songs, jumpers and Latin. 

“Could be,” the man in my head says.

He isn’t specific about which of those it could be. When I push him he shrugs his shoulders and says that he never had any answers and had only ever suggested I listen. 

Funny and Fine

 My ‘return to blogging’ blog worried some people. I am, obviously, perfectly fine. Not only that but I’m in a much better place than I’ve been for seven years. Anyone who knows me, and sees me on a daily basis knows that. Not wanting to blog came out of a fear (clearly accurate) that I would have a compulsion to let it slip that the path to recovery isn’t one straight upwards line. Weirdly, I felt shame about going a little bit backwards. However, I am living a great life.

In Playground, the Richard Powers’ novel that was on the Booker Prize list (yes I did read the whole list - don’t tell me I’m not living my best life), he has a character write an essay for a school entrance exam to show how clever he is. The theme of the essay is something about the most important characteristic of a person needs to have a good life. This character concludes that it is sadness because if you can’t feel sad you have no empathy. If you’ve read any books by Richard Powers then you’ll know there were far more words than that but as I read I was thinking that he had it wrong. We all feel sadness but not everyone feels empathy. Some people get stuck in their own sadness and can’t look out.

For me, it is a sense of humour that is most important. Being able to laugh gets us through the worst. Ask anyone who has sat around the bed of a dying loved one and they will recall moments when they laughed. Sometimes they will tell you those stories with a sense of shame but it is laughter that gets you through. 

Laughter and books.

That’s all it takes. 

The beauty of these two things is lost on some people, especially men of a certain age who have a lot to say about my hobby of reading and walking. I’ve even been asked if my husband minds. You have to laugh at that!

If it wasn’t for laughter and books I wouldn’t have had one of the best evenings of my life last night.

It was the bookshop quiz. Every answer was book related and I took my family, who love a quiz but don’t read very much. I explained that everything is a book. Every film, TV series, major idea was a book first. Readers are the true pioneers of early ideas but everyone catches up with the best ones eventually. 

It was a hard quiz but there were also cocktails and in the end we came 3rd, because the non-readers have a better memory than me and everything was a book first.

The most difficult round was where you were given a quote from a book and you had to say where it was from. Any line from any book in any genre from any period. Words swam. They seemed familiar. I wrote them down in my notebook. Then I guessed. This round was entirely down to me.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ve read that,” I said.

“It could be anything. It’s just words.”

“This is hard.”

I looked at what I’d written for question 4.

“Whatever arseholes are made of his and mine are the same.”

I was sure I'd have remembered that.

"Maybe it's Sally Rooney," I said, "It's the kind of thing she'd write."

We all agreed because none of us enjoyed Normal People (either as a book or film)

Then someone across the room said, "I don't know the book but I've seen it when I was looking at quotes for my wedding."

My eyes popped out of my head and the old sniffy prudish lady in my worried about the youth of today.

When it came to the answers they read out the quote again and told us that it was Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte (a favourite of mine).

Have you ever laughed so much it hurt? We all did. We will for ages.

"Arseholes!" someone will only have to say.

"It should be a quote. I can read it at your wedding,' my son offered my daughter.

"Honestly though, someone should write that. It could be Sally Rooney. She does write about arseholes."

I'm sure you've worked it out already but 'Our Souls' and 'Arseholes' sound remarkably similar in an Essex accent.

Really, I am living my best life. 

The Christmas Creep and other frighteners

 I haven't written a blog since September. 

It turns out that going back to school this year was more terrifying than I had anticipated and not something I wanted to share with you. Suffice it to say, I have been a basket-case. I won't go into details but a first aid course where the instructor pretends to die (quite accurately) triggered all of my suppressed PTSD. 

Woah! There you go. Oversharing again.

This is why I stopped blogging.

Yes, I pretended it was because serious writing was taking over. I pretended that it was because I didn't have time. I pretended that no one wanted to hear the workings of my random mind (that's probably true). However, in truth, I didn't want to accidentally confess how broken I  still am and this in not what I came here to say.

I wanted to talk about the Christmas Creep.  

At the beginning of November, my normal anxiety turns into extra special sparkly Christmas anxiety. This always happens. I know that Christmas shouldn't start until December but for a music teacher it always after Halloween. How else do you get small children to learn Christmas songs in time if you don't start in November? Even then, it's a push and I usually go for enthusiasm over beauty.

There’s a conflict. The middle class woman of a certain age in me wants to issue caution. It’s not Christmas yet. Don’t peak too soon. However, the need to be ready is an ever present pressure. 

This year, I started to feel the anxiety moths fluttering in my stomach in October. Admittedly, there were other things going on, which is not what I came here  to say but I felt them and knew they were the tinsel-laden festive variety.

Then, on the radio, I kept hearing about the Christmas Creep.

Ah yes, I thought, we all know the Christmas Creep. What a perfect time of year for him. He gets to dress up in a red or green costume and have small children sit on his knee. (Disclaimer: not all costume wearers are creeps and some creeps come dressed as they are)

Don’t you love a vintage Christmas card?

But I was wrong, the Christmas Creep is a thing not a person. It's the weird phenomenon that has happened since Covid, where people start Christmas far too early. And this is getting earlier each year. It was understandable when everyone was isolated. A few twinkly lights and tinsel in your knickers was enough to help you through those tricky times. Except that it turns out, our existential dread and hatred of dark cold winters (even though it was still 20 degrees outside when it started) is getting harder to bear. 

Now that we are in December, the weather has got colder,  children are having chocolate for breakfast and the world was beginning to feel right again. The balance  restored and it wasn’t too soon.

‘Phew!’ I thought, ‘That’s the end of the Christmas Creep for another year.’ and I relaxed. 

Then the Long Suffering Husband had a bee in his bonnet about something. 

“What I don’t understand is, why now?”

It seemed as though we needed a Christmas Creep, after all. 

Gregg Wallace became the new topic of conversation in our house. (Details of which can be seen in any newspaper - what he did or didn’t do, rather than our discussion)

The only reason for why now, that I can think of, is that we are missing the Christmas Creep and he fits the bill perfectly. He’s actions weren’t illegal, just immoral and creepy. If there’s a gap in the market then why not fill it? Lucky for handsy Uncle Bill that he’s not known by many people!

As a middle class woman of a certain age I’m pleased creepy behaviour is being discussed. If we can do anything, we should be able to remind people that some things are not necessary and should remain in the past.

Shouting, “Cor, nice melons,” from the top of scaffolding, sending apprentices out for a long weight and other comments that people claim are funny but are designed to humiliate younger people are not necessary for a functioning society and comedy has moved on. 

Have I forgotten?

 It was my first day back at school and I had the scaries.

I tried it all.

 I begged, “Do I have to?”

I cried, “But I don’t feel well.”

I bargained, “Just one more day. I’ll go tomorrow.”

And I lied, “I don’t know where my shoes are and my trousers are too tight.” 

Okay, so the trouser thing wasn’t a lie as I have been on holiday to America. Unfortunately, there was no Mum, exasperatedly telling me that I had to go because she was sick of me under her feet ALL SUMMER LONG! WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE SIX WEEKS OFF? WHAT A WAY TO SPOIL AUGUST!

No, it was all down to me to be the adult to my scared inner child and my adult was useless. The Long Suffering Husband was playing golf but he would have just encouraged me to join him in early retirement. 

“What if I can’t remember how to teach?” I asked myself.

“You probably won’t. It’s been a while and you’re not getting any younger!”

“I don’t really know what I’m going to do with them.”

“You shouldn’t have spent the whole six weeks gallivanting then. I did tell you. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail!”

“I feel so tired already.”

“Ha! That’s nothing. All your friends have retired already. Maybe that’s telling you something?”

If you have children who were wobbly about going back to school and you were railing against the latest TikTok trend of making a ‘back to school box’, filled with beige but aesthetically pleasing items then it’s worth remembering that their teachers were feeling the same.

Usually, as soon as you have 30 small faces in front of you, some reflecting your fear, others mirroring your tiredness and one or two hanging, adoringly on your every word, it all comes back.

It didn’t.

I have forgotten how to teach. I’ve forgotten so much about teaching in six short weeks. I’ll make a list of the things I’d forgotten.

1. How noisy schools are.

2. How much children want to touch you.

3. How difficult it is to stay upright when a child sees you from across the playground and decides that they absolutely have to launch themselves at your knees.

4. How many acorns can be slipped into your coat pocket on playground duty.

5. How small my bladder is after 6 weeks of going to the toilet whenever I like.

6. How my room isn’t quite big enough to keep all the children who shouldn’t be together apart.

7. How I work is Satan’s Armpit. The rainforest has nothing on the humidity of my room.

8. How completely unable I am to say No

9. How many children fart after lunch

10. How hungry everyone is. (9.30 conversation through tears: I’ve missed my lunch)

11. How much cake is always on the staff room table.

12. How attractive murder Tv programmes or books are after a long day of teaching. 

13. How much work there is to do before and after you go to work. 

14. How  dangerous staples can be.

15. How honesty isn’t always the best policy. 

16. How competitive children are and how you can get them back on side with a challenge.

17. How good a weekend feels after a week at school, especially on NationalReadABookDay. (Isn’t that every day?)

Trolleys, trams and waymos

 Our final full day on the Long Suffering Husband’s 60th birthday adventure was spent exploring the transport of San Francisco. After yesterday’s hilly walking, I relented and bought a day’s Muni pass. However, as you age your mapping skills become worse and you find yourself panicking (or arguing) about the location of the bus stop and the direction of travel. All of this is made worse by the fact that you have never had a sense of direction and the LSH has a Samsung phone.

“It’s ridiculous,” he huffed, “You’d think in this day and age you’d be able to get on the internet almost anywhere but especially in a big city.”

We are both on the same network but my iPhone was having no trouble at all.

“It’s Silicon Valley. Maybe you just have the wrong phone?” I joked.

The LSH was not amused. Luckily, I am an IT expert and so on the penultimate day of our holiday I googled how to fix the problem. 

In the meantime small fierce women at bus stops were there to help us. All women in San Francisco appear to be short, forceful and opinionated. Americans in general are so loud but San Franciscans come with some added quirks. They like to tell you about Harry and Megan living in Santa Barbara, are extremely disappointed when you say you have no opinion on it and when you say, ‘Thank you,’ their reply is always, ‘YES.’

Once we got the hang of it, though, riding the buses was much easier. It feels as though you are going round in circles because streets are exceptionally long. You can start on one bus, getting on at Sutter, travel for a mile. Get off and catch the next one from a stop you turned right to get, travel another 3 miles and get off at Sutter. 

“They only go in straight lines. It’s very confusing,” I complained, “It feels as though we are going around in circles.”

“We are,” replied the LSH, who was grumpy because of his phone signal. 

Once it was fixed, however, he realised that the reason they travel in straight lines is because they are trams; early electric vehicles that get their power from overhead wires. 

The modern electric vehicles make the whole of San Francisco sound like the set of Logan’s Run, which although the cars on that film were solar powered, the film makers accidentally captured the noise perfectly. San Franciscans have completely embraced the electric car and the whole city thrums with the sound of them. They even have driverless electric Ubers. 

As you walk around you start to get used to empty driver’s seats. The little white Waymos begin to have a personality of their own. Sensors spinning on the top and sides, you sense their cautious anxiety, even though you know they’ve been programmed by a laid back dope-head in an air conditioned office just outside San Jose. 

One bus stop woman told us that she’d seen one with a child in the front passenger seat. “Now, who would think that was a good idea?” she shouted.

Anyone who hasn’t read the Passengers by John Marrs who is under 40 I suspect. (Do read the Passengers - it’s a brilliant novel). I could certainly see the appeal of never having to do the school run, or drop off for ballet classes again. Just pop them in a Waymo on their own and they don’t even have to talk to strangers. 

She also told us a funny story about them. Apparently, they live in the posh end of town. They have a parking lot where they sit and wait to get your buzz from the app. Never turning off. Awake all night. Waiting. No wonder they’re anxious. Anyway, residents of the expensive condos that neighbour the parking lot have been complaining that the Waymos have been disturbing their sleep. The company in Mountain View explained the problem. The poor little things are not coming back home after an hard day at work and partying all night long but instead they’re getting confused. They are programmed to beep to avoid low speed crashes and when they get too closely packed together these sensors are activated. They’re a bit like the sea lions, who honk all night and bash necks if they get too close.

We were not brave enough to try a Waymo (I’ve read the Passengers and I think too much) but we did go back in time and ride the trolleys, which require a strong man to operate, engaging and disengaging them from the cables with a foot pedal and pulling the brake on with a hand lever and another to stand at the back and make sure no one falls off. Such fun! It appears that we are not adverse to danger, only we prefer the old fashioned kind. 

I hope you die

 San Francisco is full of small, fierce Chinese women. We started our day walking to pier 33 to catch the Ferry to Alcatraz and as we walked through Chinatown the first thing we heard (and saw) was a small woman get out of a taxi. She looked furious - her brows were knitted and she pulled her shopping bags from the backseat with the kind of force usually reserved for helping an elephant out of sinking sand. She slammed the door and leant into the passenger window and shouted, with a heavy Chinese/San Fran accent, “I hope you die!”

It was a shock. Especially as on the morning of his 60th Birthday he had been contemplating his mortality. 

Alcatraz was his choice of Birthday destination. It was fascinating but there were a number of prisoners who had pre-echoed the words of the small woman.  Exploring San Francisco on foot will leave you wondering if you are going to make it. The hills, the hills, the hills. Such steep hills. I know we should have caught a tram but as I said to the LSH, you get to see so much more on foot.

I’m not sure but I might have heard him whisper, “I hope you die,” under his breath.

Favourite tree

 Everyone should have a favourite tree. If you’ve not thought about it then you should. I like a huge singular oak tree, one in the middle of a field that has witnessed years in splendid isolation. I was quite impressed with the lone Cyprus at Pebble Beach for its ability to grow where nothing should but with golf anything is, apparently, possible so I’m less impressed. Also, I’m not that keen on a pine - they’re a bit sappy. 

The Long Suffering Husband had wanted to go to Mariposa Grove in Yosemite because he thought big trees were his favourite. When we got there he was disappointed. 

“Maybe these aren’t the trees you are looking for,” I said mangling a movie quote. I’m not sure what it is about America that makes me talk movies.

“Maybe it’s Redwoods I need,” he agreed.

We managed to squeeze in a little stop at a redwood forest on the way. Henry Cowell Redwood Forest in Felton, San Diego was the perfect place to stop. A little forest bathing before nearly dying from the stress of driving in San Francisco was what we both needed. Our powers of prognostication were obviously good. 

“That’s better,” said the LSH, “These are the trees I’m looking for.”

I have to admit they were quite magnificent, if a little too close to each other and sappy for my liking. 

The LSH has a new phone with an AI camera. It has irritated me a little, while I’ve been lying on the forest floor and playing with focal length and shutter speed, he can get a better snap, even while his phone case is flapping. This makes his photos near giant redwoods like being in the hall of mirrors. 

I can see the appeal of a tree that makes you look tall and skinny. 

I have lost my camera lead so all photos from now on in my Facebook photo dumps will be phone photos. 

His bookshop

 Regular readers will know that it’s a bookshop (or a library) that makes my heart sing but for the Long Suffering Husband it’s golf. In the way that my nose twitches as we walk along a street with a bookshop he has a sixth sense for golf courses. We can be driving along and he’ll say, “Look at that course!” or “See those bunkers!” I will squint off into the distance until I see a few Steves in poloshirts and a Michael Jackson glove. (If you want to test my theory then stand on the edge of a golf course and shout, ‘Steve!’.

Monterey is the most beautiful place. Our hotel is perfect and it happens to be where the US open golf tournament is held every year. 

Pebble Beach is a community for rich golfers. There are 5 courses, next to the sea with huge houses and country clubs, built around a road called 17 mile drive. For a small fee of $12 you can spend all day exploring this 17 mile road. Women were looking right, towards the sea and men were looking left, imagining taking that shot or critiquing the drives they had just witnessed.

Seeing the LSH so happy in the beautiful relaxed place may have been the best part of this holiday, so far. 

John Steinbeck worship

 Before we left home I made a list of bookshops because if I’m  overwhelmed or a bit anxious a quick sniff of some lovely new books can set me right. With such a full-on trip I knew there would be moments. Once I’d made the list, though, ticking them off has become a challenge. Not that we needed any extra challenges. 

We had a long drive from Yosemite to Monterey. It wasn’t very exciting, except for the acres and acres of tree farms. Unfortunately, the Long Suffering Husband wouldn’t let me stop to buy 20 avocados for a dollar, although on reflection I don’t know what I’d have done with 20 avocados. 

I was quite excited to find that we were booked into a hotel on Cannery Row. John Steinbeck was the first literary author I enjoyed. My classmates complained about having to read such a boring book but I read all night with my torch under the covers, crying over poor misunderstood Lennie and bristled with injustice. I went on to read The Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden but so many books, so little time has meant that my reading of Steinbeck stopped there. Cannery Row has been on my TBR pile for a while.

John Steinbeck grew up in Salinas, which was on our way and his family home has been turned into a restaurant run by enthusiastic middle aged Steinbeck fangirls. I felt right at home. 

As we were leaving one of the women beckoned me over and surreptitiously shoved and handful of something into my hand, placing her finger to her lips and looking round. This is where pockets in clothes come in handy, they are perfect places to hide contraband. 

“What did she give you?” the LSH asked as we left.

I shoved my hand into my pocket and pulled out enough printed paper coasters to host my very own drinks party. I’ve been chuckling about it ever since, although I think book club will enjoy them. 

I know an old lady

 I know an old lady who swallowed a fly, now I know why.

She hired a bike to explore the valley floor of Yosemite National park. I have swallowed enough flies to consider going into hibernation. My protein intake is definitely up. You think, “I’ll just keep my mouth closed. You are meant to breathe through your nose unless you are swimming or doing certain yoga breaths. Just breathe like a normal person,” then the Long Suffering Husband asks a direction related question and you have no option but to eat another couple of flying bugs. 

Apart from the flies I can thoroughly recommend it. The wow factor goes up a notch. 

After, we went on a bear discovery walk. (To learn about them not see them). They estimate there are 300-500 bears over the whole of Yosemite (747956 acres).

Ranger Will, who seemed a little lost without a surfboard told us that bears hibernate once they’ve eaten enough. A little girl told him about the time she saw a bear and he said, “Cool. Gnarly dude!” The LSH couldn’t stop saying ‘gnarly’ after that and I fear it may become his favourite word, which might push me into wishing to be a bear even more. They are solitary creatures who live alone, spending 20 hours a day foraging.  Berries are their favourites but quite like an ant or several. They only consider flies when preparing to sleep for the winter. This is a great holiday but the idea of being on my own and sleeping for the winter is appealing.

The downside to being a bear in Yosemite is if you find a good source of food the humans will catch you, give you an earring, call you something stupid like purple 12 and take you miles from where you found the good food. Bears worked out that the best way to get food from humans was to scare them into dropping it. Now the park has a motto: Scare the bear. How the tables have turned!

Our final adventure in Yosemite was to scare ourselves. We drove up to the top of the world (Glacier Point). 

I know an old lady who swallowed some flies.

The bear went over the mountain

 Despite very much looking forward to the Yosemite part of our trip I was worried about the bear warnings. I had read that you had to be careful about food and that even included hand cream, which the black bears of Yosemite find delicious. Once I got here I thought the warnings were to stop people leaving food around. Bears are, apparently, quite shy and will only steal food when you aren’t looking, unlike the squirrels and birds, who will actually beg. 

The Long Suffering Husband wasn’t looking forward to this part as much as me. He knew that I’d probably make him climb a mountain and he wasn’t wrong. 

As we drove into the park we thought we saw lots of bears on the forest floor but they were only blackened tree stumps from one of the many forest fires. We were, however, greeted by a deer at the welcome centre. 

The LSH has discovered a vlogging tool on his new phone camera and took a video half way up complaining that I’d told him it was just a little walk. This is not at all true. I told him we needed to start early and take lunch. As you walk up towards Vernal Falls there are rainbows everywhere, which even his AI phone camera didn’t do justice to. However, I did catch him telling the vlogging tool that it was worth it. 

We kept going, to the top of the falls and higher, planning to take the John Muir trail down. ‘A decent hike,’ the couple who had just climbed half dome told us while we were eating chips. The snippets of conversation on these kinds of walks are amusing. You discuss walking poles, other walks, how much further, the relationship between drinking enough and having a bladder the size of a pea. You judge the people walking in sandals or sketchers but admire the barefoot walkers. These walks are not peaceful.

“It’s OK,” I told the LSH, who was flagging. “I don’t think we’d see a bear up here anyway. Can you imagine a bear doing this climb? They’re far more sensible.”

He did his best bear impression and we spent the next part of our walk having a pretend bear conversation about deciding to climb half dome for the challenge. 

“Oh no.” I remembered. “There’s the song. The bear went over the mountain. They must climb the song is wrong.”

We didn’t see a bear but I did worry that I’d killed the LSH with the adventure. 

Land of the Giants

 If L.A. looked better in photos than it was then the exact opposite is true of Yosemite. You might look at my photos and think, ‘wow!’ but the reality is much, much more spectacular. 

We left Pismo beach 100 years ago (yesterday morning) and decided to look at a giant rock on the way at Morro beach. It was hiding in the mist. A woman in the bakery shop thought we were joking when we asked where it was. 

Then the drive to Yosemite. 

“Go straight for 338 miles,” the SatNav said. She wasn’t wrong. 

Into the park and a ‘hike’ (2 mile walk) in Mariposa Grove gets you to see a huge Sequoia grove and listen to arguing Americans. The trees were impressive but nowhere near as amazing as the rocks we saw in the sunset as we drove out.

I’m going to have to think of better words to describe everything because today we plan to walk over them, up them, round them and maybe even through them. Hopefully, we’re not going on a bear hunt but who knows. If they are anything like the squirrels then they will also be giants.

Pismo clams via Denmark

 The Long Suffering Husband has been randomly shouting ‘Clam Chowder’ since we arrived in California. This particular creamy fishy soup has been at the top of his holiday to-do list. The fact that he could say it in a funny way courtesy of The Simpsons has been a bonus. 

Channelling my inner Buggs Bunny in reply, I have been saying, “Pismo beach and all the clams we can eat.”

Our drive to Pismo took us past a pretty lake, through farming country with vineyards, olive groves, polytunnels and hundreds of black cows. It didn’t feel that long of a drive but we went through Denmark, so it must have been.

I wonder why people move to new countries and replicate the one they came from?

I’m happy to report that there were no Pismo beach disasters (Clueless reference), the LSH got his clam chowder and we are both feeling well rested before our three day walking holiday in Yosemite. 

Hello

 Rest days can be exhausting. You have to walk down the beach at sunrise, sit, read, swim and eat. We even found time to visit the Santa Barbara historical museum with no clues about who Barbara was. There were, as usual, a lot of men and a few wives who ‘bore him five children,’ and a few flamenco dancers but none were called Barbara. 

There were no Barbara’s around the pool, unless you count the tree. 

There was an Adelheid and Johann and a Lina and Karl, who were joyously happy. Like the Long Suffering Husband they had their headphones in and a phone in their hand. Like him, they may have been listening to the latest Jack Reacher book but most of the time they were taking video calls. Their friends and family wanted to share their joy and who can blame them?

“Hello!” Karl would shout and they’d all sit up on their sunbeds and crowd around the tiny screen.

“Hello!”

“Wie gehts dem hund?”

“Ahhh. Pschttt.” Followed by head tilting whistles. “Braver hund. Ahhh. Ja. Braver hund.”

As far as I know, the dog didn’t speak back, even though I’m sure he knew he was a good boy. 

Once the LSH got to the end of a chapter he took out his headphones and suggested that the people on the other side of the pool were quite loud.

“Where do you think they’re from?” he asked.

“Germany.” I said, decisively. 

“No, no I was thinking Poland. They’re too happy to be Germans.”

“They could be Dutch,” I conceded. “But I think they’re German because I speak dog.”

They should have brought it with them because the Californians love a dog,  In the LA hotel dogs shared a sunbed with their owner. There are even dog hotels for when film stars have to travel to countries with quarantine regulations. They even employ dogs for the mundane jobs that the homeless could do.

Is this Barbara?

Santa who?

 The manic driving is over. Now we are on the long distance section down a coast road, breaking the journey with some beach stops. Past Malibu beach, where the houses look insignificant from the back but if you’ve seen 2 1/2 men then you know what they look like from the front and on through the Santas.

A drive in this part of the world shouldn’t cause wintery thoughts but we couldn’t help ourselves. Singing, ‘Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus lane,’ for reasons we couldn’t fathom.

There are so many Santas.

Santa Barbara is our home for the next two nights. Barbara is lovely, as you would expect a Barbara to be. It has the feel of being in a cozy drama, a bit like Stars Hollow without the snow. It wouldn’t surprise me to wake up and find styrofoam snow on the ground and go us to go to Luke’s coffee bar for a pumpkin spiced Latte. 

We are hoping for a relaxing day with no driving tomorrow. Just sitting around the pool with Barbara, letting it all hang out.

Mussels and Muscles

 Every day is a school day and your hips don’t lie. Shakira was amazingly insightful for such a young woman. When you’ve walked nearly 30000 steps, driven 100 miles and treated LA like your own personal eye-spy book then your hips will honestly tell you your age. Old. Very, very old!

Writing today’s blog is leaving me feeling a little overwhelmed and when I get like that it’s best to list. So, this is our day. 

1. Venice beach - not awake at 8am -homeless people everywhere. Smells worse than Amsterdam. 

2. Venice canals - we walked to the canals, which are beautiful.

3. Muscle beach - fit people everywhere. Paddle tennis, sweaty muscular bodies. The Long Suffering Husband had his first laugh of the day when I said, “Oh, muscle beach. I thought it was mussel beach.” For some reason I had thought it was homophonically named. I thought the seafood came first. 

4. Breakfast. Stale pastry and coffee.

5. Argue - the lead to the phone navigation app is unstable and we both join it. 

6. Rodeo drive - we didn’t stop but we saw the Beverley Wilshire hotel, the school, Nakatomi tower (best Christmas film) and designer shops. It was tempting to walk into one and say, “Big mistake,” but I suspect they’ve heard it all before.

7. Argue again - driving around LA with disappearing navigation map will do that, especially if you are desperate for a wee. 

8. Park the car in Downtown LA never, ever, have we spent so much money on parking. 

9. Find a bookshop - with a toilet! Smile. I’m happy. Everyone’s happy. 

10. Walk along old Broadway - the oldest theatre district. I love history and can imagine how it was. Americans have no sense of preserving the past - they just abandoned it and moved on but the buildings give up their secrets of past glamour. One even had its own security guard who popped out and said, “No pictures.”

11. Angels’ Flight - this quirky little funicular railway gets you up a hill and was the perfect opportunity to recreate the kiss in LaLa Land.

12. Look at amazing buildings - art centres and tower blocks. 

13. Disney concert hall - what a building!

14. Lunch - in the market

15. Drive back to hotel - argue a little more.

16. Venice school - where they filmed Grease. Decide not to take photos as children are coming out of school. 

17. Swim - in hotel pool. Rest those aching muscles. 

18. Rydel High - go back to Venice school for photos. The marching band were practising. What’s not to love about a sousaphone? 

19. Santa Monica pier - sunset. 

20. Should we have mussels for dinner?

Do you feel the earth move?

 Our first proper day in California included an earthquake.

We were sitting in the Starbucks at Warner Brothers curing the h-anger that seems to manifest as confusion and an ability to park when you are nearly sixty, when people stopped, looked at each other, nodded and said, “Earthquake!”

The Long Suffering Husband paused, ham and cheese toasty midair and said, “Earthquake.”

I put my crispy grilled cheese down and said, “Earthquake?”

“That’s what he said, didn’t you feel it?”

I hadn’t but didn’t like to confess just in case it’s a sign of something. Often, when I’m  tired I find the earth jolts a little.  Besides, the couple next to us were muttering something in Spanish about God. 

Obviously, I did what any self respecting citizen does in those circumstances and checked Twitter. Sure enough, a 4.8 had just happened in the Pasadena  area of LA, just 10 miles from where we were. Enough to rattle a few plates, which had happened in the staff canteen. 

It didn’t spoil our day. 

Griffith observatory followed by a walk up a big hill to get a look at the whole of smog-bound LA was the perfect start. The LSH was amazed at my ability to make him climb a mountain on any holiday. Driving around LA is a nightmare but the air conditioning makes it worth it if you take a hike first. 

We were a little disappointed with the Warner Brothers studio tour but would still recommend it.  There’s so much more detail in the UK Harry Potter version but I suspect that it would be different not in the school holidays. After our little walk it was relaxing to be driven round in a cart, looking at elephant doors, a jungle, whole streets that are redesigned for any film that needs them. They have a rule that anything a production company brings in they must take with them but no one told the bamboo! Most shows were on hiatus but it was exciting to see people in hospital gowns stumbling around outside one of the sound stages and I know I will watch any new medical drama. Jack Warner’s motto was, “Anything for the picture,” and the photos you get do look amazing. 

The walk of fame is horrible. It would be bearable if the driving and parking wasn’t such a nightmare and there wasn’t a premier at the Chinese theatre. LA sprawls on massive 5 lane roads, 38 miles across and 44 miles deep without a decent public transport system and so popping back when it is less busy is not an option. You can’t do everything when it is less busy. 

An evening back at Marina Del Rey, where we are staying led to confusion from the restaurant staff. 

“You walked?”

“You haven’t got the car?”

“Where are you from?”

“Oh England.”

In California, you are allowed to hike but you must never walk.

I had a pulled pork dish that included something we hadn’t heard of. The LSH asked.

“What are hush puppies?”

“They’re potatoes. Sort of. Oh I don’t know how to describe them. But they’re potatoes. They’re nice.”

“The only hush puppies I’ve heard of before are shoes.”

The waitress nearly wet herself, “I’ve never heard of that before.”

Hush Puppies at home are comfortable shoes for the over sixties but in SoCal they are little round overcooked croquets with spring onion and jalapeños in the mash part. They were nice, we told the waitress, who left our table singsonging, “Noice! Noice!” as she went. 

LAX

 Social media is full of pictures of other people’s holidays. In truth, vicarious travel is my favourite. You don’t have to spend hours trapped in a metal box at 36000 ft and suffer the panic inducing security checks or freak out the moment you step off the plane and feel truly lost. There’s no dehydration, constipation, airplane cough or time difference. The pictures only tell you the best. Some captions hint at difficulty but you can flick through those. 

The story, however, is in the conflict: The moments people pushed through fear, anxiety or trepidation to go somewhere new. A holiday is the ultimate good news story.

My Grumpy Old Woman travel blog is back for another two weeks of random thoughts on a place I’ve never been before. Of course, I will also post pictures for my friends that don’t want to delve deeper into the conflict but if you want words too, you are in the right place. We flew into LAX which seems to have been contrarily named as the airport was full of the usual rules and rigidity, albeit with a security guard who was amused at how thin our passports were. 

The Long Suffering Husband has a big birthday coming up. How this has happened is a mystery to us all. Sixty sounds ancient and in no way reflects his mental age. He wanted to be in San Francisco on the day, so we booked a trip that involved complicated packing. Two cities, a beach and a walking holiday in 15 days. Trust me, that’s a lot of shoes. 

Weirdly, I get very anxious going through security. Luckily, with being nearly 60 comes an ability to only hear half of what is said. This is a skill the LSH has practised for years but through security at Heathrow he put it to extreme comic effect, which got me through the gates with my breathing under control. 

“Can you lift your jumper up, Sir?”

It was a simple request that surprised everyone when the LSH, who was mirroring the shadow picture started to do star jumps. Laughter really is the best medicine. 

“I thought he said, ‘jump up’,” he said slightly embarrassed but relieved that I was more relaxed.

Sometimes you arrive in a new place and immediately feel at home. The language might be different but there’s a sense that it feels right. I’ve felt this in two places: Greece and Vienna. I was particularly surprised in Greece because even the letters are different. You would have thought that America would feel similarly familiar. They speak the same language and you’ve seen most of it on film, however, this place baffles me. I feel alien. A good night’s sleep and some adventures the next day should help. In the meantime, there’s a sea lion barking outside my bedroom window and a woman is in the bar downstairs telling her boyfriend how she had to book an expensive massage to see the sunset on a holiday in Greece because at certain times of the year the sun sets in the East there. 

Live Pricing

“You are through to our award winning customer services. How can we help you today?”

Do those words make you twitch with righteous sarcasm? Do you want to know, ‘What award?’. Do you shout into the ether, ‘You wouldn’t need award winning customer service if xyz was done properly in the first place.”

You are not alone. 

The thing with award winning customer service is that the company you are ringing gets so many complaints that they have to employ teams of people to persuade you that you  are plain wrong. You put the phone down, thinking, “Stupid me. How could I have not known that?” Then you spend several days thinking about it. It wakes you at 3am - what doesn’t? And you write a blog.

“It’s live pricing, madam. It’s on our website. It does state it clearly, if you would just care to read it.”

I was vaguely aware of live pricing. Actually, more than aware. I’ve worked in a bank on a graduate training scheme where I hated almost every moment except foreign exchange. I happened to be doing my few weeks to learn everything foreign on Black Wednesday and while older men with paunches were running round ashen faced, I found the lines and lines of red ink oddly satisfying. Then in my few weeks on stocks and shares I understood that live pricing was about making up a cost for something imaginary. And things that are not real can change all the time. My imaginary friend from childhood, baby Cumby, who is sometimes green and sometimes not, said, “I wonder how much I’m worth today?” Obviously, baby Cumby was priceless. Then I moved onto gilts and the precious metals market. Catalytic converters had just been made mandatory and so the price of Palladium had gone through the roof. I passed my economics banking exams by biting my tongue and not writing the word immoral during an essay on supply and demand. 

I suppose it makes sense for items that are in high and variable demand, like money, oil, holidays or Taylor Swift tickets. You have to give people with loads of money the chance to make even more by buying those items cheaply and selling them on to poorer people. 

You are probably wondering what item had caused me to ring the award winning customer service team. It must have been an energy company, right? If you’ve walked the Pembrokeshire coast path then you’ll have seen the boats waiting outside Milford Haven until the market changes for them to get the best price at which point they all scramble to be the first in. (If you haven’t walked the coastal path then you should and you should stay with my lovely friends Liz and Dave in Tenby https://www.penmar-tenby.co.uk/ )

But it wasn’t. It was a printer cartridge, for quite an old printer. Who knew there was a market in toner?

I had ordered a branded version and they rang me up and persuaded me to swap it to their own version and they would refund me the difference. When it arrived it was broken and didn’t work so I asked them to send me what I’d originally ordered. 

“You haven’t actually credited the refund for the difference to me,” I said with certainty, “So you can just cancel that.”

“Oh no, madam. I can’t do that.It has already been processed. It’s on my computer.”

“If you can’t stop it then you can take the amount again.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I can credit the refund to your account and you’ll have to reorder the product you’d like or I can replace the item with the same.”

The branded toner cartridge had increased in price by £10!

“Can you not honour the original price, as you sent me a faulty item that I didn’t order on your insistence?”

“Oh no, madam. It’s live pricing.”

Swarm

 I’ve neglected my blog. I crashed into the school summer holidays doing the usual things: reading books, cleaning cupboards, walking, eating, watching the Limpics (why, oh why do they have to shout, though?) and taking photos of bees. 

I had no desire to comment on the complicated issue of who is allowed to compete in which sport or Joe Biden’s resignation, or Trump’s never ending self delusion. Although tragic, I had no opinion on the mass murder incident in Southport where children at a Taylor Swift dance party were stabbed to death (except to say how lucky it was that guns are hard to get in this country).

However, the recent spate of riots do interest me.

Not with the hand-wringing despair you hear from people my age. You’ll hear no, “What has happened to our country?” remarks from me. No. I’m only interested in the behaviour.

“These riots are crazy,” said the Long Suffering Husband, while we were on our evening fart walk. He had stopped as he is unable to multi-task and had got out his phone. “What do you think has caused it?”

“It’s the temperature,” I told him. 

“Not Farrage, or poverty, or immigration.?”

“Nope. It always happens. It’s young men with all that Testosterone swimming around in their ball-sacks and …”

“You can’t say it’s men,” he warned.

“Have you seen the pictures? Anyway,” I said, refusing to be diverted, “When their ball-sacks get up to a certain temperature…”

“Will you stop saying ball-sacks?”

“No. You asked my theory. Now listen! So, as I was saying, it always happens after a couple of days of sweaty ball-sack weather they get into groups, swarm and fight each other.”

“You said it again.”

“I did. Ball-sack! See, I said it another time!”

This is where our conversation ended, except that every now and again, I’ll grin and say, “ball-sack”. Don’t tell me you can’t have fun in a long marriage. 

However, I am serious about my theory. Before we get all hand-wringy about the state of the nation we should acknowledge that young men swarming to fight each other is a biological phenomenon when the temperature is between 27 and 32 degrees Celsius. 

Honey bees swarm as a natural part of their reproductive cycle to create new colonies. Are humans much different?

Carlsmith and Anderson (1979) were the first to notice that violence was curvilinear and Lance Workman worked out the specifics of the temperature needed to cause a riot and stated that when it gets to 32• ‘it’s as though people can’t be bothered.’

Summer bank holidays at Southend Seafront in my childhood were often spent watching gangs of young men swarm at each other and I can confirm that never happened on rainy days.

There was an incident like this at the end of July https://www.essexlive.news/news/essex-news/southend-machete-fight-update-eight-9448596.amp that wasn’t linked to Southport. 

Now that the weather has stayed warm but not too hot, it’s the summer holidays and there are people on social media prepared to give these sweaty ball-sacks a side to pick the fights will continue.

I’m convince that instead of kettling, riot shields and violent water cannon, a light spray down of the pant area would have hundreds of young men standing there wondering what they were doing. Or we could pray for a heatwave. 

In other news the LSH has just walked past and I told him, “I’m just writing about ball-sacks” and he has gone out to cut the grass.

Donald Duck

 A picture can win or lose an election. Think of Ed Miliband’s ugly mouth chomping down on a bacon sandwich. Ed Davey played to this strength by having the most fun on an election campaign - ever. 

What would do it in America? 

He could take a bullet for his country.

So patriotic. 

Shoot him in the head and have him survive? Perfect. What about his brain? What brain?

I remember watching the attempted assassination  of Ronald Reagan when I was small and worrying that his security men had squashed him. The report of the gun rang out and he was pushed onto the floor with 20 muscular men on top of him. 

‘I hope he can breathe under there,’ I remember saying.

This time, with Trump, the security were not so quick. There was time for Trump to expose his head and chest for the greatest shot of all time - and I mean the photo. 

I love a conspiracy theory and my first thought when I heard was, ‘Well that was a set up.’ However, there are some things to bear in mind. 

1. He’s not the president, so the security detail would have been less.

2. The security person closest to him was a woman and I do not blame her for not throwing herself on top of a self-confessed pussy grabber.

3. This has been a divided campaign that has purposely stirred up aggression on both sides (You might not have seen the Biden punch bag that people were encouraged to kick, punch or stab)

4. Trump isn’t famously known for following orders.

5. When they shouted, ‘Donald, duck!’ He is likely to have jumped up and said, ‘Where? He’s my favourite, after his uncle. Don’t you just love Scrooge

6. American mass shootings are common. There were 630 in 2023. That’s roughly two a day. 

7. They have the shooter’s gun. An AR-15. Legal in many states, the choice of school shooters and not known for pinpoint accuracy. 

8. The shooter, Crooks, now dead, fits the profile of a mass shooter. White, 20, loner, bullied at school, wore hunting outfits, played video games where you pretend to shoot the president and named Lee Harvey-Oswald as a hero. 

9. There were casualties. It’s not all about Donald Trump. Corey Compertore, a 50 year old former fire fighter died, 57 year old David Dutch and James Copenhaver are critically ill from gunshot wounds. Those who were slightly injured, grazed or just scared shitless are not worth of a slightest mention in the press. 

The only conspiracy that the USA need to face is the idea that guns make them safer.

The blog you are expecting?

 ‘Oh no! I expect I’ll read this in a blog tomorrow.’

When you hear those words, you feel as though you almost have a duty to report. Especially, when the incident that prompted those words was your own social awkwardness and inappropriate snorting during a speech that brought tears to the eyes of the unrelated diner behind. 

I would tell you about a staff curry to celebrate the escape from the madhouse of four of my favourite colleagues, except that it’s often tricky to talk about difficult things.

FOUR!

That’s all I’m prepared to say.

FOUR!

Four of the very best people that won’t be there to make my days brighter. (And I am sorry that I snorted during the speech). In the words of the children, “That’s totally skibbidi beta!”

Burying the sausage

 I appear to have stepped into a twilight world. One where the rules have changed, where things that were impossible are now probable and routines, traditions and expectations are borrowed from any country or religion you fancy. It's a world I like but I am having to check my thoughts. 

The world I'm talking about is the wedding planning planet.

Weddings bring out many emotions. Just looking at venues or talking about who won't be there or the roles that those who will be might take is enough to bring tears to the eyes. A different kind of stinging eye-watering happens when you start to look at the cost.

As a happily married parent, you look back at your own wedding, with rose-coloured specs. You might try to persuade your child - yes child, which brings more wetness to the eyes - that they should have everything you had. I can imagine that if your marriage had broken down then you might be temped to persuade them that any money spent would end up being a waste. Even if you had an extravagant wedding yourself and had no regrets, then the fact that inflation rules seem to have by-passed the wedding industry will make you feel as though a fish-bone is stuck in your throat (which has nothing to do with the fact that your baby has grown up - honestly!).

I know that people have been getting married all this time but I really haven't paid much attention to the conversations.

'That's nice,' I would have said, not really listening because the details of what the new rules are didn't matter to me.

However, now that I'm on Post-Proposal Planet I've started to listen and much of it is really funny.

We have been looking at venues in the worst summer weather I can remember.

'Oh no, the poor bride,' everyone thinks. I'm not sure why it's just the bride but that's what people say as they look at the sky, darkening, threatening. 

'She'll ruin her Jimmy Choos,' they say, looking at the rivers of rain, flooding the courtyard.

'I've heard that rainy weddings are often the best because everyone makes more of an effort,' my daughter told me.  

There is a tradition, that I hadn't heard of before last week. I was actually properly listening to a conversation about a wedding that was due to happen soon.

'I'm checking the weather every two minutes and it changes all the time.' 

The bride-to-be was hoping for an outdoor wedding.

'Is there an alternative?'

'Yes but I don't want it. I'm getting married outside. No. I am getting married outside, even if we need wellies and umbrellas.'

'You need to bury the sausage before the wedding.'

'Yes, I'm planning to,'

Wait. What? My properly listening ears were confused. Bury the sausage? It sounded like a euphemism but surely you weren't meant to see the groom before the wedding. Maybe that tradition is one that has been dropped.

'What kind of sausage?' I asked. 'Do you have to cook it? Does it have to be you? Would it help if we all buried a sausage?'

Apparently, it's a Spanish tradition, so I suspect it should be Chorizo but someone told a story of how she had taken one from a fridge, prompting an irate call from her groom, who was confused that he now wasn't able to give sausage sandwiches to all of his groomsmen on the wedding morning. She had no regrets and swears it worked, even though it was December and she slipped on some ice. 

Tired and emotional

 An election is my Super Bowl. 

If you didn’t watch the results coming in then you will probably be fresh and perky today and may be waking up to discover that we have a Labour government that the SNP lost at least 37 seats (none to the conservatives) and that Reform came second in many seats. You will have missed the Portillo moments, where Gove, Rees-Mogg, Penny Mordant, Gillian Keegan (and many more) lost their seats. You will have also missed the telling moments where Labour was sent a clear message on Palestine by constituencies with a large Muslim population with Jon Ashworth losing his seat and the Pro-Palestine candidate in Chingford regretting her decision and apologising to the Labour candidate when she realised that she had helped IDS keep his seat.

I found the evening very emotional. 

I had a moment when Neil Kinnock was on the BBC. I still have a soft spot for him.  He provided me with some of the best quotes of the night. When they were recounting Basildon and Billericay for the third time he said, “ The only recount I ever experienced gave my mother in law chickens.”

His glee when George Galloway lost was infectious. “He’s repulsive. Galloway is repulsive. I’m so pleased”

Robert Buckland was cross. “My party will be like a bald man arguing over a comb”

And Nigel Farrage set himself a simple task.

“I will do my absolute best to put Clacton on the map,” but went onto threaten, “This is the first step of something that will stun all of you.”

Laura Keunsberg described him.

“Nigel Farrage has never knowingly walked past a microphone.”

Clive Myrie showed us his snacks and made me laugh when the Conservative party chair won his seat by just 20 votes.

“Dreadful sound there, Basildon. It’s only just down the road.”

Rishi conceded defeat and Keir Starmer talked about sunrise.

And I missed my Dad. 

He would have loved this and he would have been tired and emotional, not in the way I am but in the old use of the phrase, which was  used by Private Eye in his day to describe MPGeorge Brown. 

If there’s an afterlife, I hope he’s watching and having a beer or two to celebrate.

He doesn’t need my help

A weird thing has happened.

I wrote down what people said at the hustings, without telling you about the mooing woman, which was the best bit of the evening. It was my longest blog. A marathon read, that was likely to make you sweat. Then people read it. More people read the blog than attended and then those who attended shared it and I have unwittingly become a John Whittingdale supporter. Or maybe JW has become a Julia-of-all-trades super-fan, as he was one of the sharers, suggesting that everyone should read it before polling day. 

I hadn’t seen it because, unsurprisingly, I haven’t made him a Facebook friend but when we went out to dinner with some mates they had and thought it was very funny.

Since I wrote down what was said, people who know me stop to tell me their voting intention and weirdly, they seem to think I’m going to be excited that long-standing Labour, Green or Lib Dem voters are going to vote for a Conservative. Whilst I can’t claim that he has been a terrible MP, have to concede that he works hard in his constituency and grudgingly admit that it would probably be bad for democracy if the seventh safest opposition seat was lost to the governing party, I can’t help reflect on the idea of whether he needs my help.

The truth is, he doesn’t. He’s a shoe-in. 

And if there was any worry for him they’ve even changed the boundary, taking some of Chelmsford to compensate for the bit of Maldon they gave to Priti Patel to secure her quite recently formed Witham seat.

That’s not a constituency with a majority of left-leaning voters. 

In fact, at the last election he won 72% of the vote with the left  being split (Labour 12%, Lib Dem 12%, Green 4%). I’m assuming that he’s worried about some of his votes going to the bonkers woman from the Reform party but even when UKIP fielded a half-decent candidate in 2015 she only took 17% of the vote and he still won 60.9% This constituency has a 60-70% turnout, so even if the non-voters all turn up and plump for the same party on the left and he loses 12% of his supporters, he still has nothing to worry about. 

‘So, what’s the point of me voting Labour, Lib Dem or Green?’ you ask.

The point is that he does look at it. If he attracts some of the left-leaning voters then we send the message that we like what his government did. If more people vote, ideologically against him then he might have to stop and reflect on the fact that if his government hadn’t had austerity and put a ban on capital spending in schools and hospitals (which he voted for) then he might not need to be saving St Peter’s now. 

Whatever happens at least it will all be over by Friday and we can go back to not caring about politics. 

Hustings (Long read)

 Hustings is such a great word, isn’t it? Possibly not so good that its etymology would wake you up at 3am but you are not me and don’t know how to live. Just in case you were wondering, it is derived from Old Norse and means house thing - a household assembly led by a leader and was adopted into old English and used, later to describe the platform the Lord Mayor of London and his Aldermen sat on. Eventually, this morphed to mean the temporary platform on which election candidates stood and is now only used as a public meeting where election candidates can talk to the public to gain their vote. Although I am thinking of reinstating the word for family meetings to talk about the loading of the dishwasher (I don't actually have a dishwasher, so I am, as usual, talking rubbish)

Because I know how to live and like to share I’m going to tell you about our date night. The Long Suffering Husband  and I had been looking forward to the hustings, organised by Churches Together in Maldon. It was a beautiful evening and the LSH walked up to town together. We enjoy going to the hustings because it makes us feel young and an evening 'fart-walk' is always useful at our age. 

It became apparent quite quickly that we are catching up with the age of people who enjoy these events and from above you wouldn't spot us in the sea of grey hair. We like to think were still in the bottom half of the age average, although a woman who resembled a turtle did laugh heartily when the LSH interrupted her conversation with a retired vicar.

'There's no young people here,' one of them said, to which the LSH whipped his neck round and said, 'I'm young!'

The laughter might have been cruel but I could see her point.

The evening was chaired by the trumpet playing vicar of the URC (that’s probably a niche piece of information that you don’t need. She didn’t play the trumpet at the event but that’s how I know her.) She was ably assisted by the man (Captain?) from the Salvation Army. The Maldon candidates arrived from the back room, where no doubt, they’d discussed the pictures of the old vicars that are on the wall, before finding their seat at a long table that had been decked with rather lovely green gingham tablecloths. 

From left to right they were, Simon Burwood (Liberal Democrat), Isobel Doubleday (Green Party), John Whittingdale (Conservative), Onike Gollo (Labour) and Pamela Walford (Reform). The average age of about 60 was only brought to such a level by the Labour candidate.

Everything in italics is a verbatim transcript of the event.

The chair opened the event, introducing John Doyle from the Salvation Army and reminded everyone that they were in a church and should be respectful. She said that questions had been submitted online and if there was time, after they had been answered they would open up to questions from the floor. She then asked the candidates to introduce themselves and explained that the order in which all questions were answered had been predetermined by picking names from a hat.

JW: Thank you for coming and thank you to Churches in Maldon Together for organising this.  I have been the MP for a very long time. (He didn't say how long but it is 32 years in case he's forgotten) It has been a great privilege to represent you in parliament.  I live in Maldon.  The main part of my job and the greatest pleasure has been to represent constituents and work on behalf of them. I have had a number of jobs within government, including culture secretary and most recently secretary of state for media, tourism and creative industries but my principle job is being available to my constituents.

ID: I have lived in Maldon for 50 years. I was a primary school teacher for many years. I spent a long time at Maylandsea primary and then at Great Totham. I still work with young people as I run a Sunday Club at the church in my village where I am a reader and am qualified to take services.  I am a mother and a grandmother. Family life, health and wellbeing of people are my main interests. I have never done anything like this before but I would be proud to speak on behalf of the constituency of Maldon.

SB: Like Isobel this is also my first time standing and I'm not going to lie, this is a little daunting. (laughter) I live in Heybridge where I am a local councillor and a parish councillor. I was also elected to Maldon District Council and I am a member of the Rotary.  I am actually the current president so, (looks around), I don't think there are any children here but if you see Santa coming round at Christmas, that's me! I also work with Cubs and Scouts and currently work in adult education. I am passionate about this place.

OG: (very softly spoken) I have lived in Essex all my working life. I am the mother of 2 small girls and I am missing their bedtime. I am a school Governor and I work as a corporate investigator holding FTSE100 companies to account. I am also an advisor at an Arts Gallery, so I also have interests in the arts. I also advice on a project that is concerned with children's mental health.

PW: Saved the best 'til last, obviously. (Awkward laughter from audience) I am your reform candidate. I haven't always been reform I used to be a conservative. The reason I am doing this is because at a meeting of the Borough council of Walton and Frinton a conservative person called me comrade and I said, 'Do not call me comrade. Do not use that word. I am not a comrade.'  

The first question was about St Peter's Hospital. 

JW: Like Sharon (who had sent in the question) I use St Peters. We'e been talking about a new hospital in Maldon for may years. There were suggestions for improving it, knocking it down, building a new hospital on the same site or a different site. Every time a solution seemed to have been found something came up to stop it and now they are talking about just closing it. I will do everything in my power to stop this happening. I have already had a debate in parliament about this issue and have managed to secure a guarantee that services will be retained  in the town.  We need our own community hospital. I have worked with St Peters and the groups involved and will continue to do so.

ID: St Peters is very important and also an iconic building. Whatever happens it's going to be very expensive. It's a wonderful place. I had my first child there 50 years ago.  People come into town to use it and it's a benefit to the town. Without it there would be more cars on the road as public transport to get to other hospitals doesn't exist.

SB: This is the one thing many people on the doorstep say to me. It is already starting to affect people. I was talking to one woman whose husband had a stroke and because he was in the rehabilitation unit at St Peters she was able to visit him every day but she said if it had been a  few months later he would have been transferred to the unit at Brentwood and she wouldn't have been able to see him at all. I desperately want to see St Peter's saved.  It is a one site stop where you can have blood tests and physio in one session rather than spend days and days and days just to find a car parking space. My parents go to Broomfield Hospital a lot and they can spend hours just looking for a parking space.  It is imperative that we have services remain in Maldon.

OG: This is symbolic of what's happening to hospitals across the country. For Labour, healthcare services that are close to home are a priority. We've had 14 years of this under investment. The building at St \Peters is falling down in places and it is hard to know at this point if it can be saved but I applaud the efforts of everyone that is working so hard on this. We need to learn the lessons of the past so that we make timely repairs and save buildings for the future.

PW: I'm surprised it's gone on this long. Surely it should have been sorted out before. It's like the beating heart of the hospital.  It's where you go to stroke ... a baby. You haven't got to travel. You've got a car park nearby. I'm amazed it's still going on. (I might need to learn shorthand. There must be some words missing)

The second question. How would your party ensure that despite the rapidly growing population and 14 years of underfunding they can save the NHS?

ID:  The NHS is broken and needs a shot in the arm. Doctors and nurses are dispirited and overworked and not given enough time to support the needs of the local population. Errr. Yes...Ermm. I'll leave it there.

SB: This constituency isn't just Maldon town. It includes parts of Chelmsford and goes all the way out to Stock. We need to plan for the future. Burnham is still 40 mins. away down the Burnham bends.  We need to prioritise getting more doctors. we must have access to more GPs. The NHS as a whole, currently, is not fit for purpose. The Lib Dems have a policy to refund the NHS and social care.

OG: The NHS is personal to me. My mum is a doctor (The LSH whispered, 'Was her Dad a toolmaker?' - Oh we do love a political joke) We need to accept where it is. It is going to take time to put right. One of the first things Labour will do, on day one, is send teams in to look at how things can be done more effectively.  People will be able to book more appointments on evenings and weekends.  It will take time. It took 14 years to get here but on day one we will be working on it.  The NHS needs to be reformed for complex health needs of people 

PW: The tragedy is that it will cost money.  As you know I live in Frinton but in Frinton the waiting list is 6 years because they can't get funding but it has to be done.

JW: There are many underlying factors. Our area is growing rapidly, putting huge pressure on primary care needs.  I'm a patient at Longfield and there are things we are trying to do. I meet with the staff there and at Blackwater regularly. We do need more doctors.  The new Medical school at Anglia Ruskin should help. We hope that doctors trained there will want to stay. Maldon is a wonderful place to live but we do have difficulty recruiting doctors.  The current state of both practices is poor.  It is also a case of dealing with the growing demand.

Question:  Social Care is a postcode lottery.  How will you make sure it is equitable?

SB: You will have seen the video of Ed Davy, our leader, and will know that he is a carer for his own son, so this is a priority for us.  There are two strands to social care, The professional care in a setting and less formal care at home. Both are vitally important. We are committed to recognition of carers, giving them £2 an hour higher than they are currently on.  People who care from home are important and we want to bring in respite care for home carers.

OG: Social care is really important. So often, we see that people who have served their country are left in old age in places where their care means that they lack dignity. Labour will put in National Care Standards.  There is currently a large migrant workforce giving that care. We need living wages and consistent standards rather than pockets of excellence.

PW: I myself have been a carer and you do need a break but we must not forget the service people who come back and I will fight for them.

JW: This is one of the biggest challenges to face the country and one that any government will have to work hard to solve.  Living longer is a great thing but it costs a lot of money/ Currently 80% of Essex County Council's budget goes on social care and that is rising. We need to keep people at home as long as possible, not only because it's (laughs) cheaper but also because it gives people more dignity. In the short term we need to fund it. In the long term we need to look at other things. It's a lottery whether you will need care and how much you might need. A long slow debilitating illness like Parkinson's may require more. I would suggest looking into personal insurance. This is such a big issue that it shouldn't be a party political football. It is something that all countries need to solve.

ID: Not only elderly care. We are an aging population with a reducing birth rate. It is going to be very expensive. Care needs care.

Question: The cost of having a child in school is expensive with uniform costs and the costs of trips. It was £15 per child from Heybridge to Maldon. What are you going to do about it?

OG: The cost of living is too much and Labour are focused on repairing the economy.....

We will remove VAT exemption on private schools and put that into state schools. Fundamentally it's about rebuilding the economy. We currently have the highest tax burden on working people and it's unsustainable.  We need to stir growth, increase investments in the country, keeping income tax the same. With the removal of non-dom status and tax loopholes there will be more money to spend.

PW: Reform will not reduce child benefit child will have benefit. I went to private school and my mother worked hard to send me there. As a parent you always do the best for your child and to punish a parent for wanting the best for their child is wrong.

JW: We need to bear in mind what we have been through. Covid, war in Ukraine, which sent the energy prices soaring. Cost of living has gone up. The government has tried to help people during Covid, energy caps. It won't help to punish private schools. I work with the very good private schools in my constituency and they all tell me they won't survive this (Watch this space - I bet they do) which will only put more pressure on state schools.

ID: Every local primary school should be the best so parents wouldn't need private schools. The cost of living is a problem. Schools do support parents who can't afford trips etc.  (ground to a stuttering halt)

SB: The cost of living is affecting us all but the question is about schools and it's about having our lives enriched. We need to look at how we can fund our childcare. We would increase costs per head per child to the school and this is fully costed in our budget.. These are the priorities for Lib Dems. NHS, Social Services and Education. If there are any music fans here then I will just say Children are our Future. 

The LSH is now doing his Whitney Houston impression.

Question: People on the breadline are struggling. Universal Credit payments should be reformed what is you party's policy on that?

PW: The most dreadful thing is even if you work you are on the breadline. I'm embarrassed to think that's happening. What would I do? I'd make sure people were paid and go out to work so we didn't need foodbanks. A lot of people go to foodbanks who don't need to go  [sharp intake of breath and murmurs of shame from audience] People who need food aren't getting it because people who don't need it are taking it and that's terrible.

JW: The greatest help is employment. We have created 4million jobs and have low unemployment rate but I worry about the people who are choosing not to work and who remove themselves from the jobseekers statistics..  Of course we need to spend more on supporting them. The government has a role as does the voluntary sector. (Praised the great work of Salvation Army, particularly during pandemic).  I do think we need to look at Universal Credit, which doesn't seem to be fit for purpose but we also need to help people get jobs

ID: Work is very important but the other aspect is rent. People shouldn't have to pay so much of their income on rent. The Green party will get people working on green projects and...Oh...I'm sorry I'm not very good at this.

Oh bless her, I thought. What an awful position to find yourself in.

SB: The Lib Dems would get rid of the 2 child cap. It is affecting so many families. It's about the things that are making money go further. Cost of living. I am embarrassed that in this country and in Maldon that there are food banks, It's not good enough.

OG: I think it's in the name Great Britain and it's a great shame that we are poorer than our French neighbours. Labour is committed to reform of the benefits system. We need to look at the details but we will start from a place with a government that actually cares and doesn't put the wealthy above the common man. We want to put in a government that is in service to the people so they don't feel disenfranchised.  A foodbank is not a success story, it's a failure of government.

Question: There is such a lack of affordable houses and social housing. How can I hope to stay in this town?

JW: I have a surgery every Friday and most of the issues are to do with housing. One answer is to build more homes. That will help to relieve the pressure but we need to manage them with proper infrastructure.

ID: Once of the problems is that houses that are built aren't actually affordable. It is down to the developers. An affordable house is 20% less than the going rate and here that is just not affordable.  Young people can't afford to rent or buy and end up sofa surfing. Developers should be kept to build houses that are needed, rather than what will make them the most profit.  Social housing is to be included without a right to buy which takes stock from the market. 

SB: On the doorstep it is parents who are worried about their older children living with them forever. Here a 5 bed new home costs £752,000. That isn't affordable. Infrastructure is needed. LibDems have a plan to build 380,000 new homes with 150,000 social houses per year. This is going to cost money. We will give local people the chance to discuss where small pockets of social housing should be - brownfield sites, close to town. etc

OG: Housing does come up on the doorsteps. Developers have been allowed and enabled to renege on deals. We need houses but that needs to go hand in hand with infrastructure. We will put in government backed schemes to help young people buy homes. Communities will be involved in decisions on where homes are built. Planning regulations need to be changed. I understand the tension but new developments help the economy. It brings people in to live and work.

PW: We always go in circles. Foodbanks and now we are talking about houses. How they will get homes. There's even a waiting list for the vets. When these people move in they've got families where will they go?

Question: I fell over on an uneven path recently and there are potholes everywhere. What are you going to do to make sure paths and roads are safe for use?

ID: Pot holes are a real problem. Local authorities outsource a lot of the work. They do a good job when they do it but the money doesn't seem to be there - it will be money - money will be needed. The Green Party have a plan to tax the very wealthy. The gap between the rich and poor is huge and that is growing. People with enormous amount of money could be taxed and with that money roads will be improved.

SB: The roads come under Essex County Council authority. It's their responsibility at the moment they don't have any money. When you ring them to notify them of something that needs fixing they say it will go on the list. Someone needs to invent a tarmac that doesn't get holes in it.  We need to have the money or maybe we need to get the Romans back.  (The LSH has launched into the what have the Romans ever done for us sketch) We need to give more money to local councils but if we do it will probably go on social care.

OG: I think the issue of the state of our roads is really quite sad. We will commit to improving one million pot holes a year. We will save money by not agreeing to every by-pass that isn't necessary. Insurance - damages to cars. Dog mess on the streets. (what did I miss? Did the questioner slip on dog poo?) People here are very house proud. It does come down to money.

PW: Pot holes goes on and it gets worse and worse. People pick up dog poo and put it in a bag and hang it on trees. If you fall over you wouldn't even be able to go to your local hospital because St Peter's is closing (General laughter from audience and muttering about not being an A&E hospital)

Question: My wife relies on public transport for the school run. What are you going to do to ensure public transport is fit for purpose? The chair said that there had been lots of questions about public transport.

SB: My daughter went to college in Colchester and she chose to do that but the bus was very expensive. Many families decisions are made by what they can afford. One of my roles is on the bus users group. Lib Dems will look at funding for rural transport links.

OG: Under the conservatives transport systems have been fragmented. Labour have been trialling things with our mayors and more devolution from Westminster is - you need to know where you need to go and local people can make those decisions.

PW: I've used local buses and I've been impressed. To keep buses on the road is very very good.

JW: A lot of people use trains to go into London from this constituency. I'm sure you know that we are getting a new train station at Springfield which will ease a lot of pressure, not having to go into Chelmsford. Locally, in terms of buses we have First Bus, which is a private company but ECC subsidise services that are unviable.  In this area we have a demand bus service, which has been groundbreaking - Dengie Dart. That's working quite well. We have to be realistic. There are many benefits to living in a rural location but if you choose to live in a remote area it's the trade you make.

ID: Public transport is a huge area that needs dealing with. Buses are few and far between. That does need improvement.

Question: Solomon aged 8: The environment is changing how will you protect the animals and the planet.

OG: Protect animals - reduce badger culling and fox hunting. Be good neighbours to our animals. Remove animal testing. We are going to set up Global British Energy to secure our energy needs and ensure clean green energy, which will provide jobs too. Oil and gas will remain as part of that transition but we will work towards.. We will make sure our financial services  are more green and will focus on education and becoming a world leader influencing people to take care of our planet now and forever.

PW: Interesting question Solomon, Well done. The wind turbines haven't been very successful. What happens to the car batteries? I still don't know. (The LSH is giving me a long explanation of how batteries are recycled) I believe the cars were a good idea at the start. I'm not so sure now. (There is a lot of laughter now, every time this woman speaks)

JW: It's a huge issue. One that every government will have to address. Electric cars and wind farms are the start. Wind farms have been successful, actually. I've always been a supporter of nuclear power, which is green. We are investing in nuclear power. We lead the way, It is essential that we tackle this.

ID: Solar and wind power is the way forward. No more licences for gas and oil. It's not just energy and power. It is also land use. If one eats less meat it would help. If you eat vegetables it takes one patch of land but for meat it's two patches of land. If you want wildlife to survive then eating less meat is an easy way.

SB: 8 years old fantastic! Well done Solomon. Getting outside is very important. Walking the dog chatting having picnics. We need to maintain areas of greeness around. Lib Dems will plant more trees, stop burning of heathers, stop dumping sewage in rivers and make a blue corridor system. There are so many issues regarding sewage.

Question: I missed the question but it was something about childcare.

PW: My mother was a Norland Nanny but my daughter had to put her daughter in a nursery when she was doing her degree. A lot of grandparents fill in. But you need more money. Reform - family allowance will not be stopped.

JW: I believe parents should have the choice. Some mothers will want to stay at home (Feminist hackles are rising from me and the LSH) We have sought to bring in free nursery places. I speak to many nurseries and they struggle with the quite frankly draconian bureaucratic regulations. There is more to do 

ID: Childcare is a huge issue. Even if a mother (Oh for God's sake, what is wrong with these people?) is not going out to work a child needs to spend time with other children.

SD: This is not a new question. My child is 29. During the summer holidays all my wife's wages went on childcare so that she could keep her job. (Steam is rising from my ears) We would increase childcare to 10 hours a week so mothers can go back to work. 

OG: It's a story as old as the hills. It' s sad that in the main it's women that bear the the brunt of this. Leaving aside the biology there are also economic reasons. We will look at the gender pay gap. Women's work needs to be valued and paid equally. We also need to recognise the value of that work. The free hours at nursery will increase under Labour and the number of nurseries will increase.  We will also start free breakfast clubs for when children start school which will have the added benefit of giving children the best start.

Questions from the floor.

1. Very angry woman: This is to John She was reminded that the question was for all the panel but refused to be persuaded.

Because of D-Day and veterans and Rishi Sunak's unpatriotic stance of not being at the event. I wonder how you personally feel about that and the betting crisis

JW: I guess that is a question for me then. First to say D-Day was important and I was delighted to be at the beacon lighting at the Prom which was a very moving event. Rishi Sunak did attend some of the events but now realises it was a mistake to leave early. I agree with that. To say it was unpatriotic is unfair but it sent the wrong message. As far as the betting scandal goes, I'm staggered and confused. I was in parliament and had no idea. I actually went around telling people it definitely wouldn't be before the summer break.

The woman countered by shouting at him to answer the question and saying it was typical of 'you Tories' and shouting, 'You have lost my vote!' The audience decided that she was rude.

2. Youngish man: An environmental question. What are you going to do to ensure biodiversity?

OG: The rivers: Anglian water had 591 sewage spills that's 5098 hours of filth spilled into our rivers. We would hold them to account if they want to get their bonuses. Make it tangible and not something they can  not ignore.

SB: Doubling down on policy. Double number of species . Set meaningful targets. It's difficult when something is lost. We need expertise. I just see a tree and say, 'That's a tree.'

PW: It's dreadful you can't swim in the sea now and people are getting big bonuses.

ID: Farming is an issue. Farmers are encouraged to make space for wildlife. If wildlife is given the opportunity it will come back (I was hoping she'd talk about beavers for the comedy value but instead she waffled on about turtle doves)

JW: River quality. We now measure it. Ten years ago we only measured 7%. Fergal Sharkey. Anglian Water are investing. Farmers - reward them for environmental stewardship. Brexit has helped this. (In response to snorts) No I'm serious these are things we couldn't do under the EU. and Brexit has allowed us to do that.

Question: HS2 is the elephant in the room. An eyewatering amount of billions of pounds on a project that will never be completed and we can't even fix a few potholes.

ID: Why, if it was to help the north did they start building it in London? (Person in front of me: They had to start it somewhere)  It was supposed to improve transport links in the North of England but government is so London centric they can't think past the end of their nose.

JW: If I had to choose one of the elephants in the room we would be talking about HS2 wouldn't have been top of my list. The truth is the costs became prohibitive. There will be benefits but at the moment we just can't afford it.

OG: If there's been a running theme it's been about money and you are right it's about wastage. We will form project teams so that in the future we are not so cavalier with the public's money.

PW: A vanity project that hasn't worked.

SB: I'm broadly in favour of HS2 but it needs to be kept in check to make sure it doesn't spiral any more.

Question: Acute wards and money isn't the answer are you brave enough to change the NHS?

JW: Absolutely right. We put money in every year. We've never spent less on the NHS and with an ever rising population demand is rising. Even Wes Streeting has said this. I'd love for it to be taken out of politics but in an election campaign we have to be realistic and say it's not going to be.

ID: Taking adversarial politics out of it would be so good for so many things. Health can also be improved by lifestyle changes and NHS should push that too.

OG: Great question. The NHS needs reform. The world has changed for example when the NHS was set up there was very little awareness of mental health. There does need to be more in the space of preventative aspects. Also technology eg scanner. A service that still uses pagers and faxes isn't fit for purpose.

PW: That proves that the NHS is part of broken Britain

Question: I don't know who I'm going to vote for. You are my voice at Westminster. If you could do one thing and one thing only what would you do for Maldon.

SB: Start with St Peters

ID: For Maldon? St Peters

JW: You're going to get the same answer. The great thing about being an MP is that you can raise it. I've already brought the issue to a debate and if you re-elect me I will carry on whoever is in government.

OG: For me, the problem of St Peters is exacerbated by the growth of the population and there being less infrastructure and that is what I would focus on. If I were your member of parliament my job would be to speak for the people of Maldon.

PW: It's a very good question. I would move from Frinton and be the voice of Maldon. Beyond that as everyone it would be St Peters.

Question: A Brexit question.

SB- I wasn't keen to come out of the EU but we don't want to go back but work on building better relationships with our neighbours, including reinstating things like the Erasmus scheme.

ID: I endorse all of that. I was going to mention Erasmus. What a loss.

JW: I supported Brexit and Maldon was in favour of Brexit. We have already seen some benefits but we need better connections with Europe. I would advocate rejoining the Horizon programme. (The LSH says something about the Post Office Computer system)

OG: We won't reverse Brexit. We can learn and share a lot. The elephant in the room is immigration. We would set up a border security council and work with our European neighbours.

PW: They still control us, the French. They do. With fishing and stuff. As for the immigrants. It's got to be more controlled. One in, one out and that's all fair.

It was good to end the evening on a belly laugh.

We walked home, hoping to get chips and sit in the prom for a bit watching the sunset but all the chip shops had closed. That would have been the perfect date night. When will the politicians deal with the early closure of chip shops and stop assuming that people who have money work harder than those who don't?