Take me Home

I have to do a talk at the boat club. And I’ve only got 30 minutes. As you may have guessed from these brief missives, I can be a bit long winded. My rehearsal suggests I may have to leave some footage on the cutting room floor. 
But blimey, big news comes in. Ms Sturgeon is standing down. There has been speculation about her future over the last few weeks caused by her looking frankly a bit knackered. A Jacinda Ardern type burn-out, then? She hadn’t helped her cause and workload much by the gender recognition bill’s stormy passage which was followed immediately by a transgender rapist being housed in a women’s prison. Optics, m’dear, whatever the fine print in the SPS procedures and the EA says. Her plans for the de facto referendum were so unpopular with her own MPs that her place-man got removed in a putsch. And the deposit bottle scheme piloted by the hapless Lorna Slater sounds like a mess that would do anyone’s head in. So a few issues that could give anyone sleepless nights. A hard shift. 
Later, to chew the fat with the boys. Much political chinwaggery, though tempered by live football, and discussions about which Raquel Welch films were any good. Fantastic Voyage we all seem to remember above all others. Well, that and One Million Years BC, wearing that bikini made of chamois. As our ancestors did of course, knitting not having been invented.