Breakfast

Abi and I went for breakfast, this morning, at the Bagel Factory in Spinningfields. The weather is getting hotter daily, which, on balance, I rather enjoy, although it is also a nasty reminder that the twin calamities of Brexit and Covid are just the warm-up act for the approaching climate change crisis.

Approaching? It's here.

There's a petty part of me that would like to see the BBC round up the old denier gang and see what they've got to say for themselves these days. Not that that will get us anywhere. (But yes, I am talking about you Nigel Lawson, you absolute buffoon.)

It would be nice if the billionaires thrown up by our extreme and poisoned free market system would invest their money in some Gerry Anderson style machines to sweep through the upper reaches of the atmosphere, extracting the carbon and doing something useful with it, instead of simply attempting to hurl themselves into space, in a pale emulation of the genuine heroes who first went into orbit sixty years ago. Yes, I'm talking about you Bezos and Branson, you utter arses.

Anyway... back to breakfast. Abi and I had a nice stroll together in the sun, and I'm pleased to say she was impressed by the Bagel Factory. We sat and ate in the little green area outside (although there was no sign of my little pigeon friend from last week).