I am wearing white jeans today. Am I nuts?! The sun is actually shining and I am sick of wearing dark colours – my wardrobe is geared to the simplicity of white jeans in that you can bung anything on with them – but it is freeeezing and I stand out rather a lot. Oh, well, what’s new?
The pavements of St Andrews are packed with day-trippers, most of whom seem to come from the west. Why they are all here, I have no idea; certainly not for the beach – and for that my beach is very grateful. They come for a coffee and a wander round the shops – with everyone else! A different world. Hard to miss the unspoken uniform, of sorts: the navy/black puffa coats for women and the husbands, in their joggers and trainers, behind. Rucksacks are a must. In fact, let’s face it, the pavements of St Andrews – primarily at the weekend – embody my friend, Hugh’s worst nightmare! Did I mention the multi-coloured hair? Probably best Hugh sticks to the R&A and The Old …
To my notes. How about the recent proposal that the brushing of teeth should be included in the school curriculum for 3-5 year-olds, a quarter of whom have bad teeth? At the cost of £11million, I have a novel suggestion – how about parents actually parenting? Nappies, teeth, obesity … to think one, once, needed a licence to own a dog! Oh, well, at least we saw fit to have a Day of Reflection for Covid … which has never really left us. My God, the far-reaching damage which still permeates today; the very word incites me as the nurse who administered the very first experimental vaccine takes her bow. Laughably, with Sturgeon announcing she will not stand for re-election in 2026, her ‘legacy ‘is up for scrutiny and debate. Diabolical, perhaps the word which comes to mind, her ‘performance’ during the pandemic was nothing if not predictable for the seeing amongst us: do everything slightly behind Boris – claiming stealth – thus ensuring he take any ensuing rap. The white stilettos, themselves, earned their place in history as she strutted to the podium, daily, coveting every last scrap of attention. Do not remind me. Deep breaths! Change of subject.
‘Your home should be a curated museum of yourself.’ Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen
A red rag to a bull? I couldn’t agree more but, then, I’m used to being in the minority. Not that I was ever a huge fan of Laurence but he was always a character; something increasingly rare nowadays. His home, I should imagine, will be nothing if not eclectic, reflecting his quirks and eccentricities while far removed from the regimented anonymity preferred by most today. I admit to having caught Michael McIntyre’s Big Show, more than once, over the winter during which he accosts celebrities, in the middle of the night, in their homes – supposedly. No! Can’t be. Has to be a ruse; an elaborate one as Michael and his crew negotiate their way through the front door of the predictable mansion only to be faced, head on, with the standard staircase. No spacious hall. No artwork. Nothing. Just straight up the stairs to a sterile, surprisingly small bedroom – with the seemingly obligatory massive, padded headboard – and another celeb feigning sleep. Just me? To be honest, I prefer to believe it is a con because the alternative – that the word ‘home’ is all but obsolete, replaced, more aptly, by the five letters, ‘hutch’ – is too scary.
While on the subject of TV, has anyone else noticed that the incessant adverts all pertain to one subject – death! Life insurance, wills, funerals … what is going on?! All too aware, ‘they’re’ on a mission to kill off the elderly (over 60!) – whether it be freezing them to death or pumping them full of debilitating chemicals – is the fear of God to be added to the list? Why this fixation with illness and death? Life is hard enough as it is without having one’s inevitable demise shoved down one’s throat every five minutes. Is the power of positivity no more? Yes, yes, the irony is not lost on me! Think about it, though.
Now, to the preparations for COP30 due to be held in Brazil at the end of the year. Come to Mama! UN Climate Change Conference. A conference attended, firstly, by dignitaries, Heads of State and Government. A think tank, as it were, for innovatory global ideas and solutions to combat climate change. Oh, the irony! Take a glance at the plethora of private planes ever parked up, the preferred mode of transport of those oh, so important ‘caring’ individuals; so-called environmentalists. So deserving. Just don’t do as they do, do as they instruct! Oh, and spare a thought for the tens of thousands of acres of Amazon rainforest being decimated in a bid to extend the airport – allowing for all those private jets; to enable the construction of a new four-lane motorway, more hotels, a park … the list goes on. My thoughts? How stupid do ‘they’ think we are?! For that’s exactly how we are being treated – as though we are brain dead. Admittedly, now, so many are. Look around. Even now, if Keir ‘Jong Un’ decided that we must all wear masks again – for whatever reason – they’d all be wearing them, no questions asked. If, ludicrous though it may sound, an experimental injection was devised which induced weight loss … Oh, wait, that is the case and they’re all taking it, no questions asked! To hell with any unknown side-effects or long-term harm, if it negates the need for will power or hard work, bring it on! Is it any wonder this world is in the mess it’s in? Most are that stupid. Most are that gullible. Let’s face it, so many no longer care, preferring to live in their bubble, never questioning or looking beyond. Therein lies the real danger …
Depressing, or what? I ended up watching the end of the second Mama Mia film tonight. Now, that’s anything but depressing – although one can only wonder at the magnificence of Abba and the power of emotion in their songs; songs which transcend time and will continue to do so for all time. How lucky was I to live through their era? Anyway, the following is a quote from Colin Firth’s character, Harry, just because …
‘It’s no use climbing the ladder if you’re on completely the wrong wall!’
Now, that would just be a disaster!
This is Trish, signing off – unchecked!
