Dispatches

A Sunday outing to Craigie farm where we quickly find that very little (OK, none) of their stuff is available. We eventually buy some asparagus from Angus (the county) and a cabbage so expensive that it must have been flown in business class from New Zealand. 
Later, trimmed the laurel, finished off Uncharted 3, and caught up with the news. 
Football’s back apparently, in Germany. Many photos of substitutes, sitting 2m apart. Players celebrating, 2m apart. And then they’re all for a corner, in each other’s faces. Go figure. So, covid news all over the Sunday papers; leaving aside the pharmacoepidemiology (haw!), unity seems to be coming apart. Starting with the devolved governments, then the northern cities, teachers unions and now even Hartlepool wants to do something different. Much can be laid at the door of BJ whose standing is slowly being eroded, largely by his own bumbling mumbling communication failures, being a lazy old shambolic chancer. Well, that’s one view. What about Matt Hancock? Over to Simon Heffer: "Hancock is shitting himself, another Tory told me." 
I think it’s at this point in WW2 that Hitler invaded Russia and got us off the hook.