September 11th

Bert finally got around to reading Saturday's Guardian.

It makes a very depressing read,

says he.

D'ye think so? It's just that at the moment there is a lot of stuff going on that is affecting America, Europe, here. Nobody really thinks about the floods in India and Bangla Desh or, the horrors in Syria, Yemen and Myanmar. We only care about what happens to ourselves and those most like us. And! Talking about depressing - did you read John Crace's bit about London being a few hundred miles closer to Pyongyang than Los Angeles? Best not to think about all that stuff.

Huh! It's hard not to be depressed when you look out at that!

And he looks through the sun room doors at the rain sheeting down just as it has been for the past week or more. I refrained from pointing out that at least we don't live on the Florida Keys.

I'm sure I've mentioned before that Bert is very sensitive to unpleasant weather which is why I find it strange that he is happy to slugabed on fine, sunny mornings. You'd really think he'd want to be up and about enjoying the balmy weather.

Later I ran out of self-raising flour and had to make a quick dash to the local Spar. Whilst waiting in the queue I perused the headlines of the local papers to see if I could find something to elevate the spirits. The Irish News led with a story that loyalists had planned a bonfire on every corner in response to the suggestion of injunctions preventing them building boneys on council land. That would have been fun for everyone. But hardly earth-shattering news. The Belfast Telegraph's big story was that the farmer who was killed by her cow last week was  'ready for Eternity'. Good news indeed if you like that sort of thing.

Back at Springhill the heavy downpours continued but, despite this, Bert's mood improved for it was Monday and Evie appeared soon after 2pm. She spent an hour jamming with Hannah then Bert and her went out to play. That always cheers an old granda up.

For supper we had sausage, mash and beans then coconut cake for afters and we pretended it was still my birthday. There must be no cake until next Monday when we will pretend it's Martha's birthday. She is eight the day after and wants either Elsa or Winnie the Pooh figurines for her cake. If these decorations cost me more than three pounds they will be on all her cakes from now until she's twenty-one. That's a promise!

Best part of Saturday's Guardian.

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/ng-interactive/2017/sep/09/stephen-collins-on-autumn-cartoon

First Day of July

Just because I live this idyllic life in rural County Antrim doesn't mean that I don't give consideration to what is going on in other parts of the world, or even in other parts of the British Isles. The first thing I do each and every day is check the BBC news site to see how World War III is coming along. North Korea's sabres are being well rattled and the Orange President continues to shake his tiny fists. That doesn't stop me pining for my Spotted Flycatchers who flew away from their nest on Thursday. Since then the weather hasn't been great and I really do hope they will survive.

I read Guardian Online most days and even buy the actual paper on Saturdays but today I can hardly bear to read it. Maybe when I'm feeling stronger. Instead I'm scanning photographs from 1990 and feeling quite amazed at how incredibly attractive Nellybert was back then. Why did no one tell us?

I did read that household income is falling at its fastest rate since 1976 and people's savings are at an all-time low. Perhaps I should crack open my own wee piggy bank before things get even worse. Brexit doesn't seem like it was such a good idea now, does it?

And I read this blog post, written by my sister who lives and works in London. It's to the point and chimes with my own feelings about that terrible disaster at Grenfell Tower.

There's No Such Thing As Bad Publicity

Two overpaid presenters have been suspended from the BBC for making obscene phone calls/remarks on Radio Two. And this is the big story on the news. Because one of them, a shagger extraordinaire, did the rude thing with some actor's granddaughter and then the pair of them taunted the poor man about it.

Now the granddaughter, fetching little article she is too, has got a huge mega-boost of publicity for her showbiz career and we're all saying,

Him out of Fawlty Towers? Didn't even know he was still alive.

Sad about Ross and Brand though. Still I expect they'll weather the storm.

There's Life In That Old Goat Yet

These pictures taken during the Sarkozy state visit to Britain made me smile. Old Philip, in his 87th year, is still as much of an oul rake as ever he was. And what of Sarkozy's sleekit sideways glance? He fully approves of his missus flirting with the Prince, doesn't he?

And then there's Her Maj - she just keeps on doing that stoic Queen thing. Bless her.

Get Gillian Out

I wish I could say that this is unbelievable. But by today's mores it is, unfortunately, all too believable. What ignorant, cruel, Godless people they must be. 

This is a woman who took her talents and her goodwill to a country to help its people and this is her thanks.  

The government must do everything it can to get her out of there as quickly as possible.

Fundamentalism is evil. I believe it is more to be feared in our immediate futures than anything climate change can throw at us.

The News From China

'A SHOW crocodile in a Chinese amusement park has been shot to death after it dragged a nine-year-old schoolboy into its pond and devoured him.

Several youths had climbed over the fence at the Yintan resort in Beihai and were hitting animals with sticks and rocks when one croc took hold of the boy's clothes and pulled him into the water, the Beijing Morning Post said today.

A swarm of up to 11 crocodiles then ate the boy, the report said.'

Boy tortures crocodile. Bad
Crocodile eats boy. Good
Men shoot crocodile. Bad
Ten crocodiles get away with it. Good