This Global Warming is a bugger. I woke this morning to my first ever White Easter. Pretty but cold!
British teachers say they’re finding it more and more difficult to control the kids in their classes because they’re over-indulged by parents unwilling or unable to discipline them. But, if this were really true, no one would ever go into teaching in Spain. I doubt there are more indulgent parents on the planet than the Spanish.
It’s reported that only 23 per cent of Scots want to break away from Britain. It’s ironic, then, that, if they did decide to go, not many of the English would want to try to stop them. The British government, on the other hand, is horrified at the prospect. Even if [because?] most of the cabinet is Scottish.
I’ve mentioned in the past that one receives little by way of explanation for bills in Spain, even when there’s a large increase. Things are taken very much to the other extreme in the UK. My daughter’s Council Tax bill arrived today. Naturally, this has risen by more than inflation. The explanation for this is somewhere in a 36 page [yes, 36 page] A5 glossy leaflet, replete with pretty colour pictures. What senseless extravagance.
Down in the centre of Leeds early this evening, the temperature was close to zero, snowflakes were swirling and a stiff wind was blowing between the high-rise buildings in the shopping centre. Not quite the weather, then, for T-shirts and skimpy, bare-armed mini-dresses. But, strange to relate, that’s how some of the young people were dressed. Or under-dressed, if you prefer. My daughter explained that the bare-mid-riffed girls with angel wings on their backs were part of a hen party. And that their imperviousness to the arctic weather possibly owed something to the fact they’d been drinking all day. Who says the British don’t know how to have fun!
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