Whose chimney?

As this is the birthplace and childhood home of Maggie Thatcher, aka The Right Honourable The Barnoness Thatcher, I'd have expected to see a blue plaque on the wall. There isn't. Instead there is a simple brass plaque stating the buiding's significance, positioned high on the wall. She, her sister and parents lived in the top half of the house, above her father's grocery and general store. It is now a beauty parlour. Love her or hate her - or somwhere in between - it seems a shame that, as the first woman prime minister of the UK, she should be denied a blue plaque. I suspect, though, that it is out of fear of vandalism or defacing that the decision makers have chosen not to have one. Be that as it may, as we sat at the traffic lights in Grantham it gave me the opportunity to snatch a snap. 

Thank you for all the kind wishes for my finger's welfare. As morning turned to afternoon, and the dressing Mr PP efficiently applied looked increasingly blood-soaked, I realised I didnt dare remove it to look at the damage. We went into town to buy more dressings, microtape and a finger-stall, when a pharmacist advised me to have a doctor or nurse look at it. So we headed back to our daughter's house via her doctor's surgery. A doctor kindly looked at it, decided it didn't need stitches, cleaned it and dressed it for me. What a relief!