The Ballerinas and Princess Irenes are at their best:
The meat factory in the field behind us grows daily:
This scares me:
But not because of the rise of a Trump-like mentality in the UK, or that Mrs Badenough (our previous MP) has suffered a crushing defeat (which she fully deserved – we have first-hand experience that, as media commentators have said, it’s true that she is uninformed, arrogant, and could start a fight in an empty room), but because many of the new councillors will have no idea of how ‘officialdom’ works, what can and can’t be done, and will require so much hand-holding and education by council Officers that costs will rise and efficiencies will decrease.
We are now living under a hung council (although fortunately our county councillor in this area might be in a minority, but has not changed colour):
What scares me more than the state of the political world is that we have had no rain since mid-March, aside of a drizzle on the day the conservatory revamp was completed in the first week of April and a few spots last night.
The northernmost county is not supposed to be the driest place in the UK, but, from conversations with old friends down south, they have had much more rain than us in the last 8 weeks. The water butts are empty and the reservoirs are so low one would think it was the end of the summer.
