There's a Theme here ...

As regular readers will know, I have a Labrador puppy. He's actually not such a puppy any more, he's coming up to 14 months, but I fear some Labradorian habits have become ingrained. He will eat anything: banana skins, berries, carrots, toast, anything he can get his greedy little chops around.

Which this week included another dog's squeaky yellow ball.

Squeaky yellow balls are not designed to pass easily through dogs' intestinal systems and, as a result, three hours after swallowing the aforementioned article, he was on the operating table having it surgically removed. He now has to wear the cone of shame for the next 14 days (though thankfully the plastic cone is now a cloth thing that looks a bit like a headpiece made for a child who has to dress up as a sunflower. Albeit a blue sunflower).

He also got to take the ball home.

"Do you think he's learnt his lesson?" I was asked by a friend.

"Of course not," I replied. "Treacle is a greedy Labrador who will always be super friendly, loves to chase a ball and knows no better than to eat anything that comes his way."

Labradors, like leopards and people, do not change their spots. Like politicians with no moral compass, only interested in power for themselves, with no grasp of or interest in detail and who think a bit of hyperbole and sprinkle of Latin will fool everyone. Do not expect any change there either.

Succession

Or maybe not. I'm not suggesting the politician himself will change but perhaps his position may do. I have a hunch that a number of Tory grandees and funders are aping the cast of Succession and have, this week, been holed up in the Dorchester or somewhere similar, deciding who is going to be our next Prime Minister.

(If you're not up to date with Succession I can't help you. You are beyond help.)

My money is on Jeremy Hunt. Have you seen how many times he's been wheeled out recently? I reckon Rishi is just a diversionary tactic.

Theme Parks

My initial reaction was to scoff at that picture of Boris on the Peppa Pig ride and declare that I would never succumb to a theme park and then I realised I've actually been to a fair few. At the risk of offending a large number of my readership, here is a quick run down of what to expect.

Alton Towers

You'll get lost. No-one knows where it is. It is not near anywhere useful. It will take forever to get there and the rides will make you feel sick.

Universal Pictures

Don't believe what they tell you about going behind the scenes of movie making. That bit lasts about 5 minutes. The other 6 hours 55 minutes seems to be spent sitting in the bus going through several simulated experiences of being in a car chase/rollercoaster/horror movie. This will also make you feel sick and it's a lot more expensive than Alton Towers.

However, unlike Alton Towers you get the added bonus of being able to look down your nose at all the American tourists who seem to take the whole thing very seriously. And it's sunny.

The Harry Potter Experience

Here you get to look down your nose at all the English tourists who take the whole thing very seriously and are very proud of the fact that little Olivia and Archie read all the books before they even got to primary school. The weather is a lot worse than Universal Pictures but you're unlikely to come away feeling sick. Irritated maybe, not sick.

I have to admit here that no one in our family has read any of the books. I did try the first one but found very little literary merit and, despite my very best efforts, my children didn't really take to reading. I think Biff, Chip and that stupid magic key put them off. They did watch all the Harry Potter movies though. Which is presumably why we made this trip. Or perhaps it was just something to do in those interminable summer holidays where they couldn't be relied upon to amuse themselves on an iPad for hours at a time.

BeWILDerwood

Talking of weather, being irritated and endless summer holidays, I encountered this particular theme park on a trip to Norfolk with a friend and her family in 2010. This was pre-COVID when there were plenty of choices about where to go on holiday.

BeWILDerwood , if you haven't been, is an "outdoor adventure park" populated by families who have actually chosen to spend their holidays in the UK. These were the people who had already turned vegan and who could see climate change coming long before Greta was on the scene. The adults were all wearing Crocs and the children had clearly all read every single one of the Harry Potter novels. There wasn't a fizzy drink or a sugary sweet in sight.

Healthy, at one with nature, wholesome, you get the drift. It rained, of course. The kids loved it but Jenni & simply counted down the hours until we could get back to the house and swap the tea for gin.

You will notice there are no dads in the photos. The dads, of course, had both had to rush back to London for "work." If you want the inside scoop on a theme park, particularly those in the UK, ask a mum.

So that's that. I've probably offended American tourists, English tourists, vegan Croc wearing climate change activists and dads. Anyone left??

Diplomacy

Speaking of which, it's not been the best of weeks for diplomats has it.

noun: the art of dealing with people in a sensitive and tactful way

I've just had a skim through the back catalogue of these ditties and I can confirm that, over the last twelve months, we have been at war with the French eight times. That's eight times more than we've been at war with the Chinese (despite their alleged treatment of the Uyghurs) and eight times more than we've been at war with the Russians (despite them poisoning people on British soil whenever they feel like it. Allegedly).

Anyway, back to the French. We're at war, again. Tact, serious conversation and diplomacy seem to have been replaced by putting open letters on Twitter.

Here's my take on what happened:

The Downing Street "machine" (though I think "machine" is overstating it somewhat) was a tad embarrassed by Johnson's woeful performance with the CBI and so when the opportunity arose they were quick to tell the world that Boris and Macron had spoken by phone and agreed on the urgency of the situation in the Channel.

Before Macron could add his centimes worth, they had also published his letter on that famous diplomatic platform, Twitter. Leading the former to disinvite Priti Patel from the party where the real action was to take place.

And meanwhile the boats keep coming and more and more people's lives will be put at risk.

Buyers' Remorse

Buyer's remorse?is the sense of?regret?after having made a purchase. It is frequently associated with the purchase of an expensive item such as a vehicle or real estate.

Or, if you read the papers, the regret people feel having bought a peloton bike/hot tub/pizza oven during lockdown. And the sense probably being felt by many of the people in those red wall seats who voted for Boris because he said he'd get things done.

Anyway, I'm going to help you all out here. I know Christmas is almost upon us and so I thought I'd give you a little list of my own lockdown purchases for which I have no remorse. I have the opposite of remorse. I am thrilled to bits. They make me deliriously happy.

• My shockingly expensive white designer trainers. I love them. And because I've spent so much time in doors they are still beautifully white. They were expensive, yes, but since we've been locked down for about 287 of the last 500 days, the cost per wear is almost in single figures. If you're wondering what to get someone for Christmas I can 100% recommend a pair. (I can't tell you which brand I have because my mum sometimes reads this newsletter and if she does she will then Google them and I'll be in all sorts of trouble for spending this amount of money on a pair of trainers.)
• Our rice cooker. (I do not recommend getting someone a rice cooker for Christmas though. I would be seriously disappointed if that, or any kitchen implement to be honest made its way into my stocking).
• My Audible subscription. The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope (23 hours 4 minutes) and The Luminaries (29 hours 14 mins 36 seconds) would have been a stretch too far had I not been able to have theme read out loud to me on solitary and rather wonderful dog walks.
• Likewise, my subscription to Zwift. I'm late to the party on this one. My son got me set up on it and put my bike on a contraption that now talks to my iPad. It's taken all the boredom out of exercise. I'm a little bit addicted.
• Every cook book Yotam Ottolenghi has written. I know. I'm an East London cliche.

That's about all I can think of right now. It's not the longest list in the world, I know, but it's a decent start. Next week I will offer some proper suggestions for Christmas gifts for teenagers. I know I will be in an excellent position to do this as my daughter is down for (yet another) reading week and has promised to leave me a list.

I'm reading: Did Ya Hear Mammy Died. I know some people actually do take up my suggestions here. Do yourself a favour, whatever you do, read this book. Or get it on audio. The author narrates it himself. It's shatteringly sad and laugh out loud funny. I am in awe.

I'm watching: Dalgleish finished so I've now moved on to Dublin Murders. There's no beating a crime drama for getting you through those Zwift sessions

I'm listening to: I told you. Seamas O'Reilly narrating Did Ya Hear Mammy Died.