I couldn't help thinking when he sitting in parliament be lambasted by the opposition,Ā he looked like aĀ naughty boy searching for a copy of the Beano to put down his trousers , expecting a beating from the headmaster.
I couldn't help thinking when he sitting in parliament be lambasted by the opposition,Ā he looked like aĀ naughty boy searching for a copy of the Beano to put down his trousers , expecting a beating from the headmaster.
I wanted to look him in the eye but he kept his shoulders hunched and his eyes down. The contrite pose. He kept it up for so long, he's probably got a backache.
š¢Ā āā¦Ā Just under two miles separates my corner of London from the garden of Downing Street. I am, today, haunted by the tinkling of those glasses there on that sun-drenched night, the echoing of their thin laughter, the stifled chuckles as they practised their imagined denials and, most perniciously, the leadership that encouraged it to happen. Their actions feel like direct assaults in the face of my familyās, and all of our shared national, tragedy. To me, and Iām sure many others, the revelations of the manifest and repeated failures of those in power to understand, empathise or show solidarity with what the people of this country experienced during that time have released from the body politic a stench so toxic that I canāt see how they will be able to put it back in the bottle, no matter how desperately they try. They canāt point the finger anywhere else this time, can they? After all, they brought the bottle themselves...ā Rory Kinnear
Thatās just the last paragraph of Rory Kinnearās piece in the Guardian about the loss of his sister. The whole article is well worth reading ā¦ it should be read aloud to every member of this contemptible government every night before they go to bed, until they truly understand what they have done ā¦Ā
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Gardening in Central NorfolkĀ on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
Gardening in Central NorfolkĀ on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
Much as the image above is amusing,Ā the naughty puppy doesn't know any better,Ā hopefully the leader of the country should know right from wrong.
Gardening in Central NorfolkĀ on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
āā¦Ā Just under two miles separates my corner of London from the garden of Downing Street. I am, today, haunted by the tinkling of those glasses there on that sun-drenched night, the echoing of their thin laughter, the stifled chuckles as they practised their imagined denials and, most perniciously, the leadership that encouraged it to happen. Their actions feel like direct assaults in the face of my familyās, and all of our shared national, tragedy. To me, and Iām sure many others, the revelations of the manifest and repeated failures of those in power to understand, empathise or show solidarity with what the people of this country experienced during that time have released from the body politic a stench so toxic that I canāt see how they will be able to put it back in the bottle, no matter how desperately they try. They canāt point the finger anywhere else this time, can they? After all, they brought the bottle themselves...ā Rory Kinnear
Thatās just the last paragraph of Rory Kinnearās piece in the Guardian about the loss of his sister. The whole article is well worth reading ā¦ it should be read aloud to every member of this contemptible government every night before they go to bed, until they truly understand what they have done ā¦Ā
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2022/jan/12/rory-kinnear-no-10-lockdown-party-buried-sisterĀ
Gardening in Central NorfolkĀ on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.