I am again engaged on family matters and so sitting in Shipston with my father. He is aware that i am about to report back on today’s deluded lefty activities from my family. They are (with the glorious exception of little step sister Flea) utterly deluded.
We will shortly light the fire here. It is freezing. My Dad trousers his pensioner’s winter fuel allowance but amid a heated debate about global warming the actual heating is never switched on. I have tweaked the dial without telling him. It is still freezing. And so yesterday’s Guardian will once again start its useful life in a few minutes with Toynbee’s gibberish and the rest going up in smoke.
But there is, I am proud to reveal, another useful purpose for the BBC’s sister publication. My step mother posts a few sheets of it on her windscreen at night and so has frost free vision in the morning. I knew that the Guardian could do some good. Sadly a frost bitten rag is no good on the fire so those sheets are placed carefully in whichever bin is the organic non food recycling depository.
Sister Naomi popped over to see my father and me today – step mother Helen being elsewhere. Whilst I slaved away at my PC and carried their organic live Christmas tree outside (apparently, and unbelievably, the tree finds it too hot here and so is being given a breather outside until next week) Dad and Naomi went off to the pub where they read the Sun and the Daily Telegraph respectively. This is clearly a guilty pleasure for such folk. Returning home my sister revealed the romantic Christmas present she has lined up for her husband this Christmas…..
A year’s membership of the Labour Party. Saints preserve me. Can I really be from the same gene pool?