Monday 11 April 2011

Getting on with it

As I rode my bike this morning I saw a single, solitary school boy walking along the pavement. I wondered if someone had forgotten to tell him that school has broken up for Easter and he was going to arrive with gates padlocked shut, and him left standing until one of his parents turned up to rescue him.

Someone else who migt need rescuing is Nick Clegg as he becomes ever more Tory....did you hear his comments as he left that press conference last week? I'd been horrified that he criticised middle class parents for fulfilling their parental responsibilities by helping their kids, when he had enjoyed that benefit himself. But I ended up rolling around on the floor when it transpired that some senior Labour politicians were spouting the same hypocrisy. Why open your mouth if you haven't got anything sensible to say?

The Arab Spring seems to be heating up - despotic rulers waking up to the realisation that if they don't clamp down hard, they will be out of a job. And probably a life. In Egypt, the protestors are being hit hard by the army, in Syria, protestors are being shot left, right and centre, and in the Yemen protester is fighting protester. Nothing is being said about Bahrain. In Libya, one suspects that the proposal of the African Union will preserve Gadaffi's dignity and probably his has a history of supporting dictators. Still who can blame them for thumbing their collective noses at former colonial powers? If it does, The West's African adventure will be a mighty embarrassment. Gadaffi is the one leader that said 'No' and then stood his ground. If he survives, you can bet your bottom dollar that the rest of the Arab world will see his wisdom and the feint flicker of democracy will be snuffed out.

I was mighty angry with David Cameron last week for rolling into Pakistan and claiming that many of the world's problems are our fault whilst he handed over a massive aid cheque. What a bizarre world role we are carving out when on the one hand we stick our nose into Libya in some latter-day colonial folly whilst at the same time acknowledging that past colonial activity was wrong. I'm a great believer in judging people's and countries actions by the standards of the time. So by that measure, we should know now not to be mucking around in other countries' internal affairs...even if we did it a couple of hundred years ago.

The Cat and The Boy returned from their skiing antics on Saturday night. Well Sunday morning actually...1 o'clock in the morning. I'm not sure what it says about the school's ability to organise, but they'd left a week before at 4 in the morning. Perhaps the teachers are all night owls, but those times don't work for me....or The Cat's Mother. The whole trip sound far more Inbetweeners than respectable public school to me...drinking, vomiting, drinking, pole dancing, drinking, erm toilet incidents, drinking, water skiing (yes they were in the French Alps), drinking, concussion, drinking. I'm sure it wasn't like that in my day. No doubt we'll find out more as the days wear on and further secrets are revealed. There doesn't seem to be much to say about the skiing, other than it was hot, the snow had all turned to slush by 11 in the morning and water by midday. Oh yes, and The Boy won the race. Again. He's good. Very good indeed.

The Cat is home for the duration, and will bury her head in books as she revises dawn to dusk ready for GCSEs. At least she won't be being distracted by Facebook as she's given it up for Lent. God will be grateful.

The Boy on the other hand has gone off for a week's adventurous training in the Lake District with the CCF. He will love it, and hopefully the mild weather will persist for him as he yomps around. No doubt he'll do some last minute cramming when he returns.

Anyway, I should be's Monday morning, and the last five day week for a little while!