Peculiar

It was another yo yo of a night, followed by the usual early activity including a very long flex workout which I forgot to stop.

It was a day for Daycare and it was a bit off a battle to dig T out of bed. Job done in the end.
And then off to Goring to pick up tabs from the docs. And a walk for H at the Rec and down to the river.

Then home to do some fiddly stuff and some tidying up. I picked up the left over pastry from last weekend’s culinary efforts and turned it into quiche mark 2 and an open apple and rhubarb tart.

They required cooking and watching and floury surfaces required cleaning up. And then there was the dishwasher, clothes washing machine, plants to water etc etc.

H lay down in the garden watching my efforts. I felt like lying down with her. But, instead, I relied on the alarms to allow me to pick up T. Overwhelming tiredness etc etc.

Knock me over with a feather… from saying ‘No don’t bother with supper for me…’ Within a few minutes, he had cleared his plate of a small jacket potato and tuna/sweetcorn filling. And then the rhubarb and apple pie that I gave him. Two empty plates!!

I’m sad at what Huw Edwards is going through. Especially if all I have read is true. I was sad for Philip Schofield too. Both men seem to have done silly things. Well, possibly a bit more than silly. Risqué. And they both have families to face up to.
Paying £35,000 to a young drug addict for explicit photos is, in my opinion, irresponsible, and I can well understand parental desperation. Someone in his position should have known better.

How have the mighty fallen.

Election night won’t be same without Edwards.

But I suspect we have not got to the whole truth yet because if all staff in various Newsrooms (ITV, C4 as well as BBC) knew it was Edwards, there is a reason for that.

There is very great heat threatened in Europe this weekend – they are talking about 50C in parts of Italy.

Chris, in Crete, is busy installing an efficient air con system to replace fans and other mysterious equipment he has at present. Could be a race against time. May he win!

Thought for the day – a propos of nothing much