It’s another cold but reasonably bright day here in Saddleworth. It might be a day for a brisk walk or maybe just another day for curling up somewhere cosy with a good book.
Liz Truss has published her memoirs, the story of her six or seven weeks as prime minister. She must be possessed of amazing self confidence to bounce back from that debacle believing that people would want to read about it all. It’s not flying off the shelves and has led to a lot of jokes at her expense. But according to what I have read some 2,228 people have actually bought it during its first week on sale. This puts it in 70th place on last week’s best-seller list. Maybe they bought it just to see what it’s like. But then surely you could do that by picking it up in a bookshop and flicking through the pages. Perhaps they are friends and family and a number of curious people who only ever do their shopping online.
The Guardian’s reviewer describes the book as “one of the most shamelessly unrepentant, allpetulant, politically and economically jejune and cliche-ridden books I’ve read”.
There you go!
In the Louis de Bernières trilogy about flying ace Daniel Pitt, which I read earlier this year, two sisters acquire a white lion as a pet. They name it Baby and treat it rather as a domestic cat, albeit a very large one, and not really a wild animal at all. I never knew there were white lions, but that’s a different matter. I was reminded of it when I saw this article about Wildside Exotic Rescue – a centre near Ross-on-Wye that now houses animals from meerkats to mountain lions, mostly from UK homes.
Now, those who know me well are aware that I am not a great animal lover. I have nothing against animals, wouldn’t do anything to harm them and am quite prepared to recognise that for some people having a pet is a kind of therapy. I simply have never felt that need myself and certainly do not want to live with an animal - wild or domesticated. But I find it hard to understand why anyone would choose a pet which you can’t stroke or take for walks. Granddaughter Number One has a number of such pets - a snake, a bearded dragon (a kind of orange lizard creature) and maybe even an axolotl! In her case it’s not particularly for showing off purposes, unlike the man who apparently used to walk a lion along Southport’s Lord Street during my childhood. But I must say I quite admire the lady who rescues exotic pets from ill-treatment.
Here’s another odd fact I gleaned from scanning newspapers:
“Elena Propper de Callejón Bonham Carter is the mother of Helena Bonham Carter and has spent most of her life in North London, married to Bank of England Director, Raymond Bonham Carter, working as a psychotherapist.
Elena is the daughter of Eduardo Propper de Callejón, a Spanish Jewish Diplomat to France who saved 30,000 Jewish lives from the Holocaust during WWII.”
Who knew that actress Helena Bonham Carter had such a background. And what a wonderful name! Well done, Señor Propper de Callejón!
I sometimes find Helena Bonham Carter rather “presumida”, an appropriately Spanish term for rather vain, presumptuous, self-obsessed, but you have to admire her style!
And here’s a linguistic oddity which accompanied a photo of people sitting around talking to each other: “What people did without cell phones back in the day. Just look at it, face to face communication. People conversating with one another.”
“Conversating” - we need to do more of it!
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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