Well, interesting that the polls were correct. And interesting times ahead, I daresay. I wonder how long it'll all last, and whether we'll have another election within a year.
We didn't get much sleep last night - in fact, the Sage couldn't sleep so came down to watch the results come in and finally dozed off on the sofa. I left the house at 7.30 and pedalled dismally off in the direction of Yagnub. My legs ached. I looked at the little upward inclination over the bridge towards the post office and thought I couldn't do it. I was too lazy to get off and walk however, so kept going.
I came away from my meeting, several hours later, dispirited. I wish I could talk about it, because it would make me feel better and you'd have interesting insights into the matter, but I may not. I came home and cooked bacon sandwiches for lunch. I offered the Sage a glass of wine "I'm having one, will you join me?" "I'll fall asleep," he confessed. "Good idea," I said. He accepted the wine.
I leap capriciously between frivolity, formality and severity. "I think we should do this very formally, dear," I said to a member of staff. And then did. There were chuckles all round at the 'dear', but I like to summarise at the end, it helps me to marshall my thoughts and, I think, is helpful for the person taking minutes. And I know when not to do it - the dear and darling, that is. I wonder if there's a deliberate quirkiness? I don't think so, but I don't mind the thought of being slightly unpredictable. But, even there, does that make me easy to read for someone perceptive?
I suspect so. I'm an open book and if you find one of the pages sticks, I'll help you to turn it. I'm no woman of mystery.
This is published twice because Blogger was on the blink the first time round. I saved it, put it on a Word document, saved it again from that (cautious, me) and put it in a new post. That's all I did. And it's neither the usual font or the peculiar one. Sorry, but at least words aren't cut apart whimsically at the end of each line, and there isn't a huge gap between paragraphs. I'll hope for better things tomorrow. As will everyone in the country, in a less *Z* related way.
6 comments:
I should say, he accepted the bacon sarnie too.
As did S. Norfuk. The Bacon part, at any rate.
What about the chap at the garage? Didn't you Darling him?
That's better (that I can read the post, I mean).
Did the polls get it right? The Telegraph (or the BBC, I read both websites for news and can't recall where I read it now) yesterday did a chart showing the various polls for the last week, compared with the actual result. The polls all showed the Lib Deb % at, or above that of Labour, when on the day it fell about 6% below.
I spoke politely to her of course, but I hadn't met her before, so no.
The final exit poll was very near the mark, and the hung parliament was predicted in advance.
All women are a mystery, especially those saintly, hallowed beings who bring forth bacon sandwiches in lordly dishes. In fact I enjoyed that bit so much I would like to have read it twice.
Catching up before I go off to Washington DC for a week, then will be catching up again when I get back:)
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