If she's a Witch then What a Witch She Was.

The frenzied tweeting, face-booking, partying and the hijacking of Harold Arden’s classic hit song by so many so called ‘upright citizens’ as well as the usual army of unwashed Anarchists this week over the demise of Margaret Thatcher has filled me with horror and disgust. 

Why do these specimen from the  Human Race emerge from their  sofas to spout such evil about a dead person. If they felt so incensed about their treatment from the Government, YES THE GOVERNMENT not just Margaret Thatcher why didn’t they joined a political party and make their voices felt at the time. All this noisy rhetoric after she has passed away smacks of cowardice and is is patently not relevant now. The old saying goes ‘If you can’t say anything good about the Dead then don’t say anything at all’. Most of the Labour Party adhered to this at the House of Commons Tributes and absented themselves. Well all except that failed Actor Glenda Jackson who made a spectacular derogatory speech. Remind me what has she done during her political career?

I wasn’t a particular fan of The Iron Lady and If I remember correctly, at the time I was a member of the Liberal Party and canvassed for them in Local Elections (before they became Liberal Democrats). All my Boys were affected by the politics of the Conservatives of that time. There were very few jobs and no Apprenticeships for the young people leaving school. The poorly paid, six month Government training programs never led to job offers they were supposed to. “Himself’ was out of work through redundancy for three years during this time as well. So I had no cause to love the Conservatives at the time. But the country was in a mess and difficult decisions need making. We tightened our belts and managed. 

At that time the General Public were also making noises against the Housing Rates. The locally raised taxes to pay for community services. A fairer way forward was thought out. Instead of raising money by taxing your home they taxed individuals. The people hated it and rebelled, even though it was actually a faired way of raising money. BUT the policy was the Governments not MARGARET THATCHERS alone. 

We’ve moved on from those times. Gone through more times of boom and bust. The Labour Party of the last Government were no better They spent money they hadn’t got, so we were deep in debt, sold off the Country’s Gold reserves and robbed the Pensions.

Many of these people making such insulting and evil protestations this week were not even born or were little children at the time. I cant think their education has actually covered Twentieth Century Politics, so how much do they really know about those times.  How many of these louts actually go out and vote, not many I bet. If they never voted they have no right to shout. Remember she was a woman who bucked the trend and got a  University degree became leader of a Political Party and Prime Minister against all the odds when Men ruled the roost.

OK Rant over.

 Now shall I sign myself Disgusted Of Peterborough?

Spring Slowly Emerges.

Oh Gosh April already. My blogging intentions have slipped once again. Maybe its my resident youngest with a lapsed laptop that spends much time on my office computer that is the cause. No I can't blame Him because I'm using my laptop to write this. It's been too long since I've blogged regularly and now I can't remember how to upload photos!!! Too much time on my new tablet playing mind numbing addictive games and facebooking. 

Since Christmas we have been subjected to some ferocious cold weather. But on the bright side the snow, here in The Boro. has been relatively easy to deal with. Other parts of the Country have been almost up to their necks in snow and ice. Severe night frosts and icy winds have have kept us tucked up indoors. 

The hedgerows and my garden have suffered. Normally the row of Hornbeam trees lining the foot path at the rear of our house would be in full leaf by now. There still isn't a bud in sight. The hedgerow shrubs, Blackthorn and Hawthorn are just beginning to show their fresh bright green leaflets and the blackthorn is finally a mass of snowy white blossom.

My poor garden is in a sorry way. I'm still not too sure how many plants I've lost because of the  weather. Some of the lavenders are looking very sorry for themselves. My little Daphne bush that I nurtured from a seedling that is normally in full flower and smelling delicious had buckled under the onslaught of the cold and has now been consigned to the compost. My lovely evergreen Trachelospermum Jasminoides, that perfumes warm summer evenings, is looking very poorly. I don't think it's going to be retrievable. The soil is crusty dry from the repeated frosts and very where looks freeze dried.

The pond is full of sad looking pools of frog spawn jelly that have been encased in ice too often for the tiny black dots inside to survive  Unless we have a second batch of hardy more sensible frogs arriving there will be no tadpoles and tiny froglets this summer.

Yesterday the sun was trying to break through the grey cloud layer. I should have gone swimming as I usually do but my internal pipe work was playing up so I decided to sit quietly knitting while they unknotted themselves. By the time 'Himself' emerged from his cocoon they were back to my understanding of normal and I was feeling more myself. The sun had almost conquered the clouds and the weather was looking quite encouraging for a change. 'Himself' decided we ought to go out.  Fair enough. I had discovered a site on Facebook I'd made a mental note of 'worth a visit'. A place in Northamptonshire called Beckworth Emporium. It looked interesting. So we Googled the directions and set off with 'Mr Tom' the Sat Nav as a directional backup. It was an easy and pleasant drive. Traffic was light so no holdups. 

The Emporium looked an inviting  neat and tidy place from the outside. It turned out to be quite a small but upmarket Garden center with a large, very comprehensive, upmarket food hall, and a large area selling what I would call 'Yummy Mummy' tat, or posh bricabrac. The Emporium's cafe/restaurant took up two very large areas of the site. It had won two awards last year for their cuisine. Apparently they employed eleven chefs. Very soon after midday the queue for seating snaked around the Emporium. Another hour passed and I decided I needed to eat. By this time the first people who queued had eaten so the wait for seats didn't take too long. The food was well worth the wait. I just had to ask the waitress what the dressing was on 'Himself's' salad. He thought it was delicious and the salad was the best one we both have had for a long while.

Repleted with good food we separated.  Himself to wander around the Garden section again and me to smooch around the food Hall. Very soon I had a trolley full of goodies unseen in The Boro. Some oat bread that turned out to be the most delicious we've tasted. A bottle of the versatile dressing (you can even dizzel it on icecream!) that made the lunch salads to die for. Fresh meats from Hambletons farms and  a selection of fresh fruit and veg. A Cartmel original sticky toffee pudding with toffee sauce. A jar of Skippy peanut butter. DJ's favourite that's impossible to find, and finally some hand baked biscuits and cakes. The small trolley was overflowing, so off to the Checkout. Mmmmm 90 pounds. Maybe I'll have to give Oundle Farmers Market a miss this month!!!!