Roland Ladley's Blog, page 33

Merry Christmas everyone

Merry Christmas everyone. From both me and C. It has been a bit of a year, n’est pas? But we’ve made it this far and not much longer before we get on with a new decade.

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merry Christmas from Mum and me (and C)

We’re with Mum and she’s holding up OK. We’re lucky in some ways in that her stroke (2012) has made her a slightly more simple person – and I don’t mean that in a derogatory way, just that she has easy needs which her home, a weekly trip to Morrisons, carers a couple of days a week, simple food and ITV3 meet. She has enough money and her health is not bad for an 86 year old. We’re here until tomorrow, so she won’t have had Christmas on her own.

Below is the cat’s letter. It’s in its 12 year, a now family tradition. For those of you who are not with the programme, Tidge, our erstwhile cat, got so fed up with Christmas circulars from everyone telling us all how fabulous everyone was and how much their families had given to charity (etc) she decided to write a slightly more honest appraisal of what we’d been up to. Unfortunately, Tidge is no longer with us so she pens her note from beyond.

Enjoy … and, again, have a relaxing Christmas. Be kind to whoever you are with and remember to eat your sprouts …

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driving home for Christmas …

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Yo – blooming – ho!

It’s all kicking off up here. His Nibs has his hand on the rheostat and is nudging it northward. ‘If they can’t behave then don’t say I didn’t warn them,’ and I’ve toned that down a touch. Then off he goes and sulks, muttering something along the lines of, ‘I was pretty sure Greta would have found a nerve to touch. Bloody idiots.’

And whilst Rome burns the Ladleys have had another unremarkable year. Where were they during the Fridays for Future marches, and why isn’t Dad supergluing himself to an Easyjet flight to Tenerife? It’s all well and good turning the tap off when they clean their teeth, walking rather than driving to Tescos carrying a bag for life, and recycling plastic that will end up in Indonesian landfills – but it’s hardly Extinction Rebellion. That’s the problem with them. They talk a good talk, but when it comes to actually making a difference, they’re on a plane to Seoul when they should’ve stayed at home, selling their diesel-guzzling campervan and using the proceeds to plant a 1000 trees. I disown them.

But you were expecting an update?

Dad still thinks he’s a writer. Book five, On The Back Foot To Hell, was published in the summer and has sold as many copies as the others – that is, a few. You’d think he’d have learnt. With a fixed smile that could have been stolen from Commissioner Dreyfus, he has gleefully wasted much of the autumn penning book six. In between this he continues to dabble as a leadership consultant, boring schools and now the MoD with his pearls of wisdom. Like his friends, age has begun to shrink his cartilage and he’s had a couple of episodes with his heart (he has got one, bless him), but nothing that has made him look my way. And, no change, running continues to define him – those legs waggling about, knocking over small children as he rushes by. He’ll get arrested one day.

Mum had held the ship steady – as always – although I can report she’s taken to running more consistently but without leaving a liturgy of youngsters crying for their mother to pick them up. And – please – don’t ask her about their trip to Asia. Unless you have a week (and run if she gets out her phone to show you the piccies). Six weeks backpacking from Seoul to Singapore then overland to Hanoi: planes, trains and rickshaws. Bex and Steven joined them for the second half and it will always be a mystery how the children have not turned into alcoholics putting up with the wrinklies. But, they survived. Two trips to Scotland in the van and skiing in Chatel topped off a busy travel year (blame them for the Australian bush fires). But that still gave time for Mum to knit a flock-load of hats, shawls, gloves and other assorted gifts. If you see a baby in a white shawl somewhere in the south of England, put money on that Mum knitted it.

Bex and Steven like Korea. Which is bizarre, noting that they weren’t keen on the paradise that was The Bahamas. The school is good, the students are good, their flat is good (and paid for by the school – yippee!), the travel is good (Hong Kong, China, Phuket, the US, Borneo – I’m sure I’ve missed somewhere), their friends are good, and they’re good. They both have responsibility in the school and, let’s face it, when you’re based somewhere where you can ski in the morning and karaoke in Gangnam at tea time, what’s not to like? They are exactly halfway through an initial three year tenure with Dulwich International, and currently have no firm plans as to what to do next. Mum is already saving her housekeeping to fly to Seoul again in the Spring.

Jen, bless her, continues to be beset with health issues. After a bumper year in 2018 making dog accessories, last year has dragged. She has been diagnosed with ME, which is like long term flu but without the antibiotics to shift it. It has meant that she has stopped work – for now. To compound everything, a random MRI scan found a cyst the size of a tangerine on her pancreas. Now, of course, we all knew up here what was going on but, alas, everyone down below had a fingernail-biting couple of weeks whilst they discovered what was what. The good news is that it wasn’t awful news, if you get my drift. She’s due to go under the knife in January to have it taken out, along with her spleen (who needs a spleen, anyway?). We all hope that the cyst is the underlying cause to some of her other aches and pains and she can get back behind the sewing machine as soon as possible. James, the bearded one, has been a star throughout. It would all have been a different story without him. 

Other news? Well Grandad joined us in April. He’s spent his first six months on the golf course with Seve and has won the odd hole. His Nibs will put him to work at some point, but after three years of dementia we all reckon he deserves a bit longer on the greens. 

Mum and Dad are with Grandma for Christmas – just the three of them. If they make it through without someone kicking off, it will be a miracle. (Note to self: have a chat with Gabriel – he’s good at those.) Bex and Steven are travelling through southern Trumpland avoiding anyone who looks as if they might be packing. And Jen and James are having a quiet Chrimbo at home, and then with his parents. Everyone’s happy – well, particularly Mum and Dad as they’re driving to Chatel for three weeks once they leave Mum.

And me? Well, the cream has risen to the top. I’m in charge of top-table puddings this year. I’ve every intention of making far too much crème brûlée and then making myself sick on the leftovers. It’s a tough life; live it for the now I say – especially as His Nibs has cut the holiday short. He’s got some ideas for the impeachment process in January. He seems unsure which way to fall. One would rid us all of this tiresome president. The second would pile on the agony and perhaps make you lot think twice before electing an idiot. Although, let’s face it, you Brits are slow learners.

Merry Christmas. I think …     

 

The goose is getting fat

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It’s Christmas. I have to say ours is going to be low key. For a start we are not at home from tomorrow – heading off to Mum’s until Boxing Day, and then R&C’s for a couple of nights before scooting southwards to Chatel for … wait for it … three weeks. Too much excitement here for that.

As a result there’s no tree up and, whilst C has done a fab job on some tasteful decor, it’s not our usual full-blown affair. Also we’ve been busy. I worked Thursday and Friday (with some follow-on work from that for next year) and yesterday we were with Jen and James for a pre-Chrimbo get together. Top-tip: if you have Netflix watch the new animated movie, Klaus. Get through the first ten minutes – the animation is put together differently to most and you might not warm to it. But the story is fab. Great for the kids too. And C’s not been well. A sore throat akin to swallowing razor blades has put her in bed for two days, which is very unlike her. Interesting she reckons the over-the-counter codeine/paracetamol mix might have been the thing that knocked her sideways. So watch that.

Anyway, Christmas is fizzling towards us, rather than galloping in our direction. Maybe things will pick up with Mum? Who knows.

The car’s packed. I mean … it’s packed. We always take a lot of stuff skiing, mostly dairy free stuff and other gear that’s more expensive in the Alps. Which is pretty much everything other than alcohol. So we have a car full. And, and this was nice, my

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less than a week to go …

neighbour took me for a drive in his Tesla 3 just now. Wow. If you’ve never been in an electric car, give it a go. After you get over the fact that it takes off without a mumble, and then everything else is worked on a big screen (which plays Netflix when you’re static) it really is an enjoyable and damn quick ride. The standard Tesla 3 goes 0-60 in 5.3 seconds. That’s as quick as I’ve ever been without being airborne.

And the book is now complete. I spent late Friday sorting out the epilogue. There are two twists at the end, neither of which I was expecting. Both of which, I think, really add something to what I hope will be a book which sits easily alongside the other five. No title yet, though.

Next post is on Christmas Day which will be your version of our Christmas circular … the cat’s letter. Some of you may be looking forward to that. I hope so.

Have a fab Christmas. And thanks for bearing with this drivel. Ta-ta!

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coffee before work on Friday

 

Did it … phew

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here’s Cassie!

We were at a birthday party a couple of weekends ago – most of the people there we knew. One of them, a good friend, commented on my novels. He said that as well as my stuff he reads Jack Reacher. Mine, he said with real sincerity, were better than that penned by Lee Child. He amplified. He said that (as I have said this previously, as a fan of the Jack Reacher books), Lee Child writes to a formula, which gives his readers exactly what they want. [A Lee Child book is sold somewhere in the world every 20 seconds; so it’s not a bad formula] Mine are all different. Same genre – but all different, with plot twists and new ideas. Held together, he said, by the main character, Sam Green.

I have to believe Peter – my pal – because, early on (now almost 6 years ago) he told me that Unsuspecting Hero, a book I have subsequently rewritten, wasn’t very good. He’s now a convert.

I mention this because, breathes in, I have just finished draft one of book 6 (no title). I’ve laid down 126,000 words and only have an epilogue (2,500) to go. It has not been easy; and that’s an understatement. This year, with everything else going on, I have really had to push myself to get the words down. And now I’m done, I’m really happy with it. Yes, it needs a lot of work and I think there’s going to be more plot consistency issues than usual, but all of that is a joy. It’s getting the words on the paper in the first place that is the struggle for all authors. Ask any of us.

And this has come about exactly when my book sales have fallen off a cliff. I have no idea why – I never do. And so, notwithstanding Peter’s kind comments, I really feel 2020 is crunch time. I will (I will, I will) market the series as I edit the sixth book in the Spring. And if nothing comes of it, I will not start another until I feel that I’m writing for more than about 500 people.

We’ll see. Anyhow. It’s done (with two final plot twists which you’re going to love).

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spot the parking fine

What else has been happening? Mostly writing. And running. C has a cold – and has been shopping for our trip to Chatel – which has bucket loads of snow (yippee!). I popped down town today to handout a couple of Christmas gifts to an ex-Army homeless person I’ve met. Only to get a parking fine for the privilege. I met up with Elizabeth for coffee – which was fun – and, oh have I told you? I finished book 6.

I’m back with the MoD tomorrow – all day (a last minute request). And at a school in Salisbury on Friday. More work, but all in a good cause.

Hurrah?

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had a walk down the Severn

Getting over it.

OK. (Takes a deep breath.) I’m getting over it. I will hold my nose and give Johnson and the Tories a chance. I vehemently remain a European and hope, beyond hope, that the Labour party can now find someone just left of centre who can hold a candle to whatever you wish to call the new party in power – one nation conservatives they are not. Labour certainly need a strong leader in the ballot box. How that’s going to work in the next couple of months with Corbyn holding on looks messy.

Oh well. But, you know what? Not, oh well. Not when we’re a decade away from loosing many species of animals; a decade short of who knows what climate calamities. I said on Wednesday, and I’ll say it again, the Green party – or similar – will be hurried into power when we’re putting out the fires in our gardens with the rising sea water around our ankles. And, and I’m guessing most of the people who read this are ‘older’, this may not effect us. Indeed, we might enjoy our swansong with warmer summers in this darkening country – which, by the way, will be the union of England and Wales before 2030 – but our children will never thanks us. And our grandchildren will despise us.

So, my mate Boris. Do what ever you will with the civil service. Build 20 new hospitals, employ tens of thousands of new nurses, put bobbies back on the beat, introduce a new points-based immigration system, give more money to schools, privatise the BBC, give Ofsted more power and get Brexit done. But, whilst you’re at it, champion the planet. Set up a new, cross-party ministry for the climate. Make every decision … every decision, climate change based. You want to reboot the country? Do so. Please. Do what ever you like …

… but lead the world on making this place safe for future generations to live. You owe that to your 5/6 children.

[I have used the photos below to tell you what else we’ve been up to!]

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now almost 110/125k into book six. It’s been a struggle, but you just have to sit down and write. Have thought of 2 fab twists for the end …

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hello! My post-election face. Am getting over it …

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waxing skis for Chatel! Off to mum’s a week tomorrow for Christmas. R&C’s for a couple of days, but hope to be skiing by the 29th!

Vote for me!

We’ve made it. Through the worst election campaign in memory with two of the most unelectable candidates in history. And, if you add in Jo Swinson, that might rise to three. She is the most respectable of them, if a little screechy. However the Lib Dems (I am a natural liberal) lost me when they went for a straight revoke A50. I am dead against

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We I might need a couple of these tonight …

Brexit – it’s fair to say I have never felt more strongly about anything – but I am a democrat. We need a second referendum, and Jo wasn’t having any of that. And I think the Lib Dems have paid for that decision.

If you add Nicola Sturgeon and Caroline Lucas into the mix, I do believe we have a couple of leaders who we can trust. But, alas, the SNP don’t really care about me. And, mark my words, The Green Party will be voted in when it’s too late to do anything about the planet.

So, it’s Johnson or Corbyn. Where do you start? Well, I think everyone’s come to the conclusion that we’re anti-voting. We’re voting to make sure we don’t get one of them. And for me that’s a clear choice.

I was picked on at school and it took me some time to realise that the only way to get through that was to stand up for myself. The Army honed that skill and, at the same time, enshrined in me a severe dislike for anyone who abuses power – at any level. Having worked abroad a bit, you can see that in spades. Mostly men, grabbing control and then bullying swathes of the population to hold onto it (and normally using religion as a banner under which to hide – another story).

Away from conflict, popularist politics has enabled the bully. You can see it in Trump – blatantly. And you can see it in Salvini and Bolsonaro. And you can see it in Johnson. When he’s under pressure. When his bluster fails him. When he realises he can’t get his way – the way he’s always been allowed to get because of innate privilege (which also frustrates me). Bullies don’t like confrontation they can’t control. They pick on softer targets. That’s why Johnson has avoided Channel 4  and Andrew Neil. Because they would have stood up to him.

And Corbyn? Well, he’s not my choice. And some of his background and far-left policies are anathema to me. But … and I have looked closely … I am warming to him as a man. You can say what you like but he has worked tirelessly for the disadvantaged over decades and decades. You might not like what he stands for, but at least you know what he stands for. Yes, none of us know which way he’d vote on Brexit, but I don’t think that’s a bad policy. Post a second referendum – if he’s in charge – he’ll need to try to manage a broken country … it’s called collegiate leadership. Johnson, on the other hand, is not a Brexiteer. His political history shows that. And yet … politically expediency and all that.

Finally. What of the climate? Who can you trust with that? Well, I don’t trust Johnson, in the same way I don’t trust Trump. And I don’t think any of his current team are up to a global challenge. And Corbyn? Well at least we know he cares about the planet.

So, on on this monumental day, what would do for me? A hung parliament, with a labour lead, reined in by moderates. A PR style of government which runs a second referendum and puts climate change at the top of the agenda next to the NHS.

Frankly, anything which doesn’t have Johnson in the title.

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Guildford Cathedral looking a bit spooky …

 

For the record we’ve just got back from Mary’s – it was her birthday and we had a party!

Even if I say so myself …

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still running

I have to say I am quite proud of myself. Over the past two weeks I’ve taken on two newish strands of work: an afternoon with a group of governors and a senior team, facilitating an away afternoon; and a group 360 for an MOD/civil service team that need some support. Both of those was new work for me …

… and both have, I think, been a success. I’ve been asked back to the school to carry out some mentoring (week after next). And I met with the 1-star MOD boss on Friday (to look over my 7-page report) and she’s asked me back to their next senior team meeting and likely some coaching/overviewing in January. Fabulous (I think). The boss was also going to share my report with some v senior MOD staff, so something may come from that. I know I’ve gone on about ‘whether or not this is what I want’, and after five years of pottering along with this business I’m busier than I have ever been, but it’s just great to feel that I’m making a difference. Even with new stuff.

For completeness, and I guess one or two of you may be interested, I charge £40 an hour (£150 for a report), which ends up as £320 a day, which is very much at the left hand end of consultancy fees. I also charge 40p a mile, which is industry standard.

So, we’ll see. The thing is, I do enjoy the work … and it’s good to be able to walk away from work rather than, as always used to be the case, being left with actually seeing through the changes.

Apart from that, I’ve had 5 days not writing. So I kicked off again yesterday (2,000 words) and got to the end of the day and thought it was the worst thing I’d written in a while. I added another 2,000 words today and, do you know what?, it’s not at all bad. I’m at 102,000 words at the moment. I’ll easily need 120,000 to finish this off, maybe more like

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C’s getting new boots!

130,000. I’m going to push the boat out and really try to get this thing done by Christmas. Then I’m on a reread of the new Unsuspecting Hero plus a look over On The Back Foot To Hell, before I look to start the first main edit of the latest book (no title yet).

Oh … and C got herself some new ski boots. And we’ve been running etc.

Off to Mary’s tomorrow for her birthday party. I’m at a school on Tuesday and we’re back to vote on Thursday. That’s going to be an interesting day …

New boots, madam?

So, that’s what work feels like? I had forgotten.

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I’ve spent the last three days working with an MoD team in Abbeywood, Bristol. It’s a perfect 20 minute cycle ride although with the weather a tadge on the frosty side at the moment I have been wrapping up well. It’s been interesting. I’m conducting a team 360 on a small team of 20, led by a one-star equivalent. It’s interview based and not without effort – as interviews always are. I’m now in the report writing stage and meet with the boss on Friday. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Do I enjoy it? Well, I can tell you that it reminds me why I gave up work. Yes, it’s fabulous being back in the thick of office stuff, and there’s a small part of me that would like to run a team with that sort of responsibility, as I have done before. But the office politics are draining and I know it wouldn’t take me long to be pulling my hair out. So I’ll keep with the consultancy if you don’t mind. It is, I guess, the best of both worlds.

Other than that, C has been up to see Jen today and, apart from that, she’s being doing all the Christmas stuff. We’ve decided not to put up a tree this year. We leave for mum’s on the 24th and go straight onto Chatel after Christmas and have no intention of being back

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mince pies anyone?

in the country before the 20th of January. There’s not a great deal of snow there at the mo, but there is some due to fall on Monday. And it will be fine.

Bless my Mum, she’s given us a few quid for Christmas which we’ve spent on snow shoes (you know, the ones that give you big feet and you can trek on powder). We’ve always wanted a pair of those, so let’s hope they’re in good nick when they turn up. And C is pressing hard for a new pair of ski boots. Mine are 25 years old and I will wear them until I die – hopefully not by skidding off a cliff because my ski boots have let me down. C has difficulty getting hers on, and hers are 20 years old, so it’s probably about time. We’re working on that. We will keep using our skis (now at least 10 years old). That reminds me, I must get them out and prepare them with my ACME wax and edging kit I used last year.  That’ll be fun!

No writing at the moment – apart from this. I can hardly manage to remain awake watching A New Life In The Sun, so the chance of concentrating on the new book seems unlikely. I think the title is going to have ‘Red’ in it. That’s all I know. I’ll crack on again on Saturday – I had reached a natural break, so it should be OK.

Rest of week? Report writing tomorrow, back into Abbeywood on Friday and then a weekend free. We’re with Mary next week, I have a day’s work at the school in Farnham and then back home in time to vote the Tories out of here. We have decided to vote Labour, because tactically that should help bring down the local boy in blue. It’s going to be a fun night!

On the edge of her seat …

I’m finding it very difficult not to write about politics. Johnson’s dad and his ‘spelling Pinocchio’ comment, the brave Pole who helped take down the London bridge terrorist, the BBC’s failure to get Johnson in front of Andrew Neil, and C4’s climate debate and Gove’s attempt to gatecrash it – when it was leaders only. The whole thing saddens me. That we are here, rather than the country we once might have been.

But, I won’t. Promise.

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have dog, will walk

On Wednesday night we had a parent of C’s round (from when she was a housemistress) to Jen’s for supper. And on Thursday we finished off at Jen’s by sorting out their garage. It has been a bit of a time with the pets. Cassie is easily the best dog in the world – such a lot of fun and very well behaved. But we wouldn’t have one; certainly not whilst we’re travelling so much. As for cats, well we had one of those once. We came home (it was an Army hiring) to find this cat in our back garden. She led us to an outhouse and proudly showed us five kittens. A single mum, hey? Well, we homed the kittens and kept ‘Tidge’.

Tidge survived through a move to Chepstow, onto Bristol and finally all the way to Wells. By then she was old and diabetic … it was only a matter of time. Some of you might have met her. And a few of you will know her from the letters she’s been writing every Christmas about the Ladley clan. That reminds me, I need to check that’s she’s getting one (I think it might be the eleventh or twelfth?) ready for this year. She pens it from cats’ heaven – there is one of those, you know.

Jen and James have two cats. One is cat-coloured: Zorro. He is a bit of a boy. You can’t pet him for fear that he might have your arm off. No offence, but if you can’t pet a cat, what’s the point? The second is Evelyn. She’s a Ragdoll. And as thick as they come. Think dumb blonde, but not so bright. But at least you can pet her without a trip to A&E. C was constantly worried that all four pets (sorry, I forgot the rabbit) hadn’t succumbed to some mysterious disease. Or they hadn’t escaped through the narrowest of gaps in the upstairs windows. The good news was that we handed them back as we found them. And none of us needed a trip to hospital.

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garage clearing specialists – give us a call

I’m still writing. Now at 93/120k words and worried that I’m going to go beyond that. I also worry that it may be a bit linear … and I do know that it needs a lot of work. We’ll see. This time I haven’t been keeping C up to date, nor have I read much to her. So today, to calm my nerves, I read a section to her (Sam, Jane and a new chap, Matthew, are on a German freighter in the South China Sea – I know, sounds exciting?). Well, there’s a punchline to the bit I was reading. C was initially sat back in her chair. By the time I reached the climax she was, unbeknown to her, literally sat on the edge of her seat. Success!

Onto next week. No writing before Friday, I think. I’m with an MoD team Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and back in with the boss (with a report) on Friday. I think we then intend to do some more work in late January – if I produce anything useful. We’ll see.

Cycling in tomorrow. Should be fun in these temperatures …

Tell me everything’s going to be ok?

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must be skiing soon … C’s trying on her boots

I know this is going against the grain, but if I could vote for Nicola Sturgeon, I would. She has consistently come across as the only adult in the room. I know, I know, none of you want Scotland to leave the union and dislike her because that’s what she stands for. And some of you snigger when you think that Scotland couldn’t survive financially without Westminster throwing money over the border. And you may have a point there.

But, what are the alternatives? Boris Johnson is hopeless. Worse than hopeless. And he stands for Brexit, which you know I’m not a fan of. And I’m not keen on the Tory policies, not that their manifesto gave us anything other than potholes and child care to write home about. It will take forever to sort out Brexit, and a US trade deal will take an age and we, of course, will be negotiating from a position of weakness. It’s going to be horrible.

Jeremy Corbyn has principles, most of which I can’t agree with. And Jo Swinton has – come on, let’s face it – blown a hole through the Lib Dems chances by guaranteeing that she will revoke Brexit, rather than hold a second referendum. Which I cannot support. She’s also quite screechy, whereas Sturgeon is much more measured.

All-in-all it’s a dog’s breakfast. And with Labour and Lib Dems nowhere near cooperating to oust the Tories, December 12th is going to be a very interesting day.

It is hardly a prime time in British politics, is it? Which is such a shame when what the world needs now, more than anything else, is grounded and effective leadership. The latest UN report says the last time CO2 levels were this high, the earth was 3 degrees warmer and the water levels between 30 and 60 metres higher. If that were the case London would have to move. All of it.

I don’t know. Somebody tell me things are not as bleak as they seem. That Johnson will get a majority and he’s actually an honest and OK chap. We, the British, will rise beyond Brexit and be a beacon for other countries to follow. That Scotland (and Northern Ireland) will stay in the union and we will all plough forward together. That my children’s future is secure. Somebody … please.

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call in the painters and decorators

Talking of children … we’re at Jen’s at the mo – they’re down at Centre Parcs. We’re painting and decorating, which isn’t my favourite pastime, but I tackle it willingly, if patchily. (Not really, we are a fairly safe pair of hands.)  Home at the weekend. And then working all next week – hurrah?

Scotland here we come …

So. I had a really good day yesterday at a prep school in Wiltshire. I was asked to run an activity afternoon for the governors and senior leadership team. I did this (having attended the main governors’ meeting in the morning) by looking at the capability gap

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I like pictograms …

between their, good, school and what they might consider a ‘great’ school. In two teams we then identified actions required to make that happen … and colour coded those by way of how much they thought each action might cost. And then we put those actions onto a time/effectiveness chart. To finish we identified 10 actions the school could be getting on with, noting time and cost constraints.

Phew … that was three hours. Which I really enjoyed. The feedback was good and, on the back of it, I’ve been asked back to do some mentoring.

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if the weather gets any worse, I’m emigrating

Next is my team 360 with the small civil service group the week after next. And, of course, the ongoing work I’ve been doing with the school in Farnham. I had a full day with them on Thursday and I’m going back before Christmas. It is, as they say, all go.

Is this what I want?

Maybe. Maybe for the next couple of years. It’s more than possible this will fizzle out … and the choice will be made for me. Who knows. And, as long as we can get skiing and pop Doris over to Spain to warm her tyres, then it might just be a good balance. We’ll see.

Other than that I have tried to write. I missed Thursday and Saturday because I was out all day. And, whilst I have completed 1,500 words today, I will miss tomorrow as I’m driving up to Mum’s. C will be at Jen’s place … we’re looking after the menagerie, whilst her and James have a week in Longleat, Centre Parcs. So that’s one dog, two cats and a rabbit to look after. Hopefully they’ll all still be with us when Jen and James come back on Friday (she did lose a rabbit the other day, so the plan’s not necessarily foolproof).

And politics? Well, come on. If, after everything we know, this country is still keen to give the Tories a majority and we crash out of Europe, who am I to complain?

Scotland here we come …