It was almost like being back home this morning. Wind and rain, but not very much of it. The gardens around Canary Wharf are suffering for the lack of water. The fountains have been turned off too. But I think it is too little too late.
Read in the paper yesterday about the ever growing popularity of the e reader the kindle. Seems that it enables women to read porn on the tube without anyone else knowing. Well the smirking or flushed face might be a bit of a giveaway. It is interesting to look at the variety of books red on the tube. Real paper books I mean. The young man standing in front of me this evening was reading one about Christianity. It is quite usual to see a scruffy black youth intent on reading his bible or prayer book. There are those studying text books; I always want to peer over to see what the subject they are studying.
I had an email back form a distant cousin today and discovered he was a famous writer, well a writer at least. He had written some scripts for The Men From The Ministry. The south African version no less. I really love British comedy. Just Minute, I’m Sorry I haven’t a Clue, Take it From Here, and the best of all, well I think so, The Goons. Neddy Seagoon, Eccles, Bluebottle and Major Bloodnock. Peter Sellers, Spike Milligan and the wonderful Harry Sercombe. It used to be a regular the all-night nigh programme at home, but then over some issue to do with royalties they stopped being played. I’m not so fond of some of the modern British comedians though all F words no humour. But then that is another story.
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