Wednesday, November 21, 2007

We're not winning any more...

I've been watching England play (or rather not play) football this evening. What a shower. The frustration of watching them give the game away was almost too much for me, though I did watch until the (extremely) bitter end. David Beckham was our only hope and even he couldn't pull it off single-handed and in the second half. Son was going to Wembley this evening to watch the game, and I sent him a text after the first two goals went in for Croatia "Oh bugger, Son, get on that pitch." I always believe that he could win the game for them. Maybe I'm biased..

Terry Wogan had an amusing comment this morning about Golden Brown's right hand man: "How can you take a politician seriously when he's called Ed Balls." I concur. And I'm less and less impressed with Golden - he's losing what grip he had. I bet he's jolly glad he's no longer in charge of the public purse - disaster is following disaster and the Chancellor of the Exchequer is quite definitely in the firing line.
No-one seems to be mentioning the person who was Chancellor of the Exchequer until quite recently, though. Presumably he's pretending that none of the current global financial problems were anything to do with him. I honestly believe that politicians all think that we, the great British Public, are mentally deficient. Yes, we do know what is happening, and yes, we do blame the politicians who are supposed to be in charge. And no, Golden, none of us voted for you to be the new Pry Minister, (has anyone else noticed the new pronunciation?) and we're not likely to do so any time soon.

Last night was another wakeful one for yours truly. Grandson opted to tuck in with me, and so I didn't get much sleep. Amazingly, he broke his previous record (5.30am) and woke at 4.30am!!! I just don't get it - he sleeps at home until 7.30 sometimes, but I've never been that lucky when he stays with me. At 5am I went downstairs and made him some warm milk and a piece of toast because he said he was hungry. He did
scoff the lot, but whereas I thought he would then go back to sleep, he seemed quite happy to lie there awake. We chatted a bit, he told me what a good boy he was, and we had a lovely cuddle. I stuck it out until 6.15 and then sent him in to his Mum.
She had had a lovely night's sleep, so I didn't feel guilty. And I went back to sleep for another hour before staggering downstairs to make breakfast for my Student. It was lashing down with rain again, and I could cheerfully have gone back to bed, but no such luck. I'm off to bed now to catch up on those zzzzzzs...

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