What a gal, eh?!
We hit these two different places today and found, as usual, lots of friends, most of whom will be supporters. Though my old buddy, Mr Stuart Wilson, doesn't agree with me with regard to fox hunting, I am confident that our shared history of going into combat against illegal hare coursers will swing the votes of him and his dear wife Doreen my way. Stuart was 'old Labour' until Margaret Thatcher's arrival on the political scene and he then changed to supporting the Conservatives. Of course, Maggie is no longer a factor, so ....
Sue and I also had the pleasure of meeting Mrs June Ford and her dogs. June has been a strong Labour supporter and I respect her for it. June wants me to make it clear that she continues as a Labour supporter and I believe her, but she did wish me luck, which was typically generous of her. Here are June, her dogs and yours truly.
Also at Liitle Wilbraham, we came across an old Swaffham Prior friend, the famous former jockey, Mr Ray Cochrane. Ray is famous, not only for having been a superb jockey himself, but also for saving the life of fellow jockey, Frankie Dettori, nearly ten years ago. The story of this remarkable feat is detailed on the BBC's website at -
Ray wears his heroism with a modest style. I like him for that and for much more. Here he is (below). (Ray was busy working on something in his garage and still looked great. He would have looked even greater and much more glamorous in his racing silks).
We concluded our day by calling on several friends at Six Mile Bottom. The special friends Sue and I have there are Tom and Grace Reeve. Tom has had some serious illness recently but they fixed him up well at Addenbrooke's Hospital and he looks fine now.
What would we do without our National Health Service? I can't even think about that, but I do concern myself about uninsured Americans who have difficulties. Sue and I have known some and the family of one of them put on a 'benefit concert' to raise money to pay his hospital bills. I think sometimes that we Brits complain too much. We ought to count our blessings instead.