Relax? Well, if you count enforced relaxation due to the heat. It does get a bit boring. Yesterday Philosopher and I decided, heat or not, we’d have to do something, so we went to see the lavender fields at Castle Farm, near Sevenoaks. It worked out well, and we didn’t expire. But away from us, in the wider world, it hasn’t been a very relaxing time at all. We have had plenty of time to look at it, lying round in minimal clothing eating ice-cream, while outside, the garden parches and shrivels, and upstairs, my book goes unwritten. Sport? What a crazy week. World affairs? Not that bloody stupid war again… Home? Bring on the Bin man, Battleaxe says. If the Great British Public can vote Boaty McBoatface, they can (and do) vote for anything…
The lavender was beautiful, but I don’t like to imagine what the temperature must have been out in those fields, in the middle of the day, in inland Kent. I had a big hat and also an umbrella to provide shade, but there were women walking round in short sleeveless frocks with no hats on. Crazy. We didn’t stay out there long. It was lovely to see – and hear – all the bees busy at work. Castle Farm is very well organised, with ample parking, shop, caff, loos and lots of shade seating provided at the edges of the fields. Only £7 for an hour’s walk round. Battleaxe would recommend. It was also good to have a couple of hours in an air-conditioned car. Here are a few more pics.
So, sport. Firstly, football. Battleaxe wouldn’t have been mad – or interested – enough to stay up all night watching England play Mexico, and I was convinced they’d lose embarrassingly. Cauldron Azteca Stadium, altitude, team playing on their home turf, frenzied Mexican fans? Against our overpaid ego-driven sluggardly lummoxes? No chance, I said to Philosopher as we turned off the light. But I did say that if they won I’d get up early and watch it on the replay. Dammit, when I saw England had won 3 – 2 I had to get up and sit through it.
Next thing, Trump calls his buddy Infantino who overturns a US red card just before their match with Belgium. Cue world outrage. Then, to utter global joy and jeering, Karma kicked in and Belgium beat US 4 – 1. I did feel sorry for the US players and the bloke who was red-carded but played – the pressure and the publicity obviously got to them, and it wasn’t their fault. Everything that Trump touches turns to shit. Next, probably out of pique, he restarts the Iran war…
Next, Wimbledon… Arthur Fery. He seems a pleasant, unaffected lad, and he is doing incredibly well. However, I have read that he is not quite the local lad, brought up down the road from Wimbledon, going to a local school, that most of the media would have us believe. Man of the people?No, not exactly. Here is an article about his history. But then, who is a man of the people? Certainly not that man standing against Count Binface in Clacton. I won’t use his name, every mention on the internet fuels his vile publicity machine. Trouble is, going back to Fery, the inequality of our society does not help genuine people of the people. You’d be waiting for many, many years to see someone born on a council estate and going to the local failing comp reach the Wimbledon semis. Let’s face it, tennis is an elitist sport.
Talking of the elite and wealth inequality, on Sunday we went to a piano picnic at Fairlight Hall. It was, as usual this summer so far, a truly beautiful day, and we enjoyed a picnic in the lovely gardens with friends Jill and Nick. The piano recital was good, but we still left at the interval. Enough culture on a hot day, we thought. Here’s a photo of the three young students – and brilliant they were, who played the first half of the recital. Now, according to the programme, the boy in the middle is aged only twelve. Surely some mistake?
