Maggi calls to ask if she can come for tea and sympathy. Of course. She’s taken Maxi in to the vet. Had her at the beach and she seems to have injured her leg again. Cries when touched and can’t walk. Happened yesterday morning, but no answer then from vet as it was a holiday. Now dog at vet and M waiting for phone call. We have tea and J suggests early lunch, aware that we do have three stuffed peppers. Well planned. Actually, shortbread biscuits and chocolate digestives as well. Surprisingly well prepared. M leaves for home, but calls during stop at Lidl to say vet has called. No real damage and she can collect her tomorrow along with prescribed painkillers. Vast improvement over her fears of amputation, etc.
Evening vote on Theresa May’s plan with pathetically minimal changes. Defeated as predicted, meaning two utterly wasted years. Years in which pressing problems like poverty and homelessness not addressed. Someone online, appalled by the toxic parliamentary paralysis was moved to remember Cromwell’s speech in April 1653, at the end of the Long Parliament (long being something of an understatement as it sat for twenty years, apparently to no good purpose):
“It is high time for me to put an end to your sitting in this place, which you have dishonored by your contempt of all virtue, and defiled by your practice of every vice; ye are a factious crew, and enemies to all good government; ye are a pack of mercenary wretches, and would like Esau sell your country for a mess of pottage, and like Judas betray your God for a few pieces of money.
Is there a single virtue now remaining amongst you? Is there one vice you do not possess? Ye have no more religion than my horse; gold is your God; which of you have not barter'd your conscience for bribes? Is there a man amongst you that has the least care for the good of the Commonwealth?
Ye sordid prostitutes have you not defil'd this sacred place, and turn'd the Lord's temple into a den of thieves, by your immoral principles and wicked practices? Ye are grown intolerably odious to the whole nation; you were deputed here by the people to get grievances redress'd, are yourselves gone! So! Take away that shining bauble there, and lock up the doors.
In the name of God, go!”
Impressive enough, but would be more so if Cromwell himself had not been such a bastard.
May, regrettably, unlikely to go as a result of anything short of assassination.
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