Both my beloved it children came to lunch today. Son Smiler had to go back at teatime but daughter Chloe is spending the night and going back to London after Â lunch Â tomorrow. I think the dear old things are slightly concerned about me having read all this Â business about breathing and so on.
We survived the fireworks last night but unfortunately the main show, I think, will be this evening, being a Saturday. I must say I’m a little annoyed that the BBC (or was in ITV) referred to yesterday as Bonfire Night. It’s no more Bonfire Night then 11 November, Remembrance Day, is Poppy Day. Will future generations even know who was Guy Fawkes and what Â a scurrilous plot he and his co-conspirators were Â hatching Â on 5 November, 1605? Wasn’t the conspiracy to blow up the Houses of Parliament hatched in Cato Street? I in am not going to fill up my blog with a history of this conspiracy suggest any young reader who is interested looked it up on Wikipedia.
I had two nice comments on my blog today. One commiserating with me over the dangers of fireworks when one lives in a thatched house and the other wholeheartedly agreeing with me about the grossly obese people I wrote about. I’m glad I’m not alone in my right wing thinking in such matters. I had the impression that this new government was going to do something about this sort of situation ie. The minority of the 2.9 million registered disabled who are capable of doing some sort of work and not spend their life sponging on the state.