"Idleness is only the refuge of weak minds"

Thus sayeth, or saideth, m' Lord Stanhope, former Earl of Chesterfield - er, not that I knew the gent, you understand, he lived mainly in the early 18th century and I'm not quite that old.  However, that particular quote from my beloved OUP Dictionary of Quotations seemed especially apt given that I am enjoying a truly slothful, lazy day.  I think I deserve it because whilst it is always a pleasure to entertain old friends there is no getting away from the fact that it is hard work.  And then, of course, there is the aftermath, yesterday, when beds needs must be stripped, linen listed for laundering, washing machines spewing forth towels and suchlike on a non-stop basis and yours truly forced to push and pull the hoover over what seems like several acres of carpet.  What I'm trying to tell you, in my usual long-winded way, is that today I am well and truly knacked!  Thus, the 'Memsahib' and I have taken to our armchairs for most of the day and I, in a fit of rebellion, set aside all those 'heavy' books which I know I really should read, and instead have just finished a prime piece of 'pulp fiction' by Robert Crais in which the body count is of such proportions that I soon lost the count!  There is only one way to describe my near paralysis today and that is in the immortal words of the great Johny Mercer:

Lazy bones
Sleeping, sleeping in a noon day sun
Tell me, how you spect to get your days work done
Days work done
You'll never get your days work done

Sleeping, lazy bones
Sleeping in a noon day sun
When day's dusk means praying
I bet you keep praying
That all the bugs fall off the vine

And when you go fishing
I bet you keep wishing
That the fish would never never grab your line
You old lazy bones
Loafin, loafin all through the day
Tell me how you spect to make a dime that way
Dime that way
You'll never make a dime that way

Well look at him, lazy bones
Never hear a word I say
Lazy bones

Needless to say I have very little commentary on current events - you may be relieved to hear!  In order to get away from Sky News and their non-stop yadda-yadda about the riots(*) padded out with various hand-wringing 'community people' bleating about how the little kiddie-winkies are deeply misunderstood and have been let down by 'society', I have been tuned into Fox News where I have been regaled with non-stop yadda-yadda concerning the Republican gab-fest yesterday in which eight potential candidates held a 'debate'.  I confess to some concern for MDM (My Darling Michele) because she looked desperately thin.  If she had been black I might have mixed her up with one of those dreadful 'famine-porn' adverts the charities keep shoving in front of us.  Talking of blacks, from the odd snippet I heard I was rather taken with the single black candidate, Herman Cain, but I doubt he will make it to the final cut.  Pawlenty is a cad and a swine for attacking MDM and he deserves the bitch-slapping she gave him.  Romney looks and sounds as though he has been extruded from a machine designed to produce politicians safe for children to handle because he is sooooo smoooooth with absolutely no rough edges.  Ron Paul has sensible domestic policies but his almost child-like inistence that America retreats into its fortress is naive and alarming.  According to Fox, the nigger in the woodpile is the current governor of Texas who might be of interest but watching him with the sound off (as I watch most TV) I think he smiles and glad-hands far too much.  Still, it's not all bad news, I gather that Obama's ratings have slumped to the lowest ever and US consumer confidence has gone down the toilet.  Bye, bye, 'Barry'!

Meanwhile, 'over here', 'Dim Dave' rushes from one stricken city centre to another and his expression of really, really, deep concern and caring is now almost realistic!  Of course, he continues to spew forth yet more totally daft suggestions like switching off all those social network gizmos when the next mass robbery(*) breaks out which is totally fatuous so long as all the TV stations immediately rush to the area concerned and broadcast the results nationwide.  Unless, of course, he thinks he would get away with closing down the TV stations as well, like that smelly old Arab he's bombing in Tripoli!

Meanwhile, in EuroDreamLand four nations, France, Italy, Belgium and Spain, have banned short selling.  I will let the Financial Times explain it:

Short selling is basically a bet that a stock’s price will fall over time. The short seller borrows shares of a company to sell at time #1, and returns them at time #2 when they buy those same shares in the open market – hoping that the stock’s price will fall between time #1 and time #2.

You may file that under the heading of 'Yet More Utterly Futile Gestures'.  Such bans have been tried before and have never worked.  As the FT points out in the same article, the last time it was tried was in the USA in 2008 as a desperate attempt to stave off falls in stock prices - which then continued to fall and the ban was lifted before its due date.  All it does is add to the nevousness which obviously prevails if very big funds are prepared to bet their investers' money that certain stocks are weak and over-priced.  In the meantime, we can fasten our seat-belts and look forward to next Tuesday when the Hungarian dwarf and the 'Kaiserin' are meeting mano-a-mano, or perhaps that should be 'mano-a-womano' (hopefully my e-pal Ortega will help out with my poor Spanish).  I'm not sure whether they will produce a souffle or sauerkraut but I doubt it will prove particularly edible to us, in this 'septic Isle'!

Anyway, I'm off back to my armchair.

(*) Recent events have been designated as 'riots' but I demur!  The word 'riots' implies some element of a political imperative.  The only imperative at work in the last few days was robbery, looting, arson and murder.  The practitioners would not even be able to spell, let alone understand, the words 'political imperative'.

 

Comments

[dearieme]

For your armchair, a new (to me at least) summer drink - Martini Royale. Take a wine glass, add ice cubes and a wedge of orange. Pour in some Martini Rosato (hard to find, but apparently available at the bigger Sainsbury's) and top up with a fizz of choice - soda water, Cava or Prosecco. Very summery and not only delicious to drink but rather beautiful to look at.

[David Duff]

What a boon you are, DM! I shall look out for it but is it sweet or dry?

[A K Haart]

I think idleness has a bad press in the UK. Modern life seems to leave it off the schedule, yet how else are we supposed to relax, have a good free-floating think and dream up the next blog post?

[David Duff]

Quite right, AK, I have been a lonely advocate of doing nothing since my army days when I can claim, with due modesty, to have raised skiving to an art form!

[dearieme]

Not sweet as in sweet the way that children or Americans like things - slightly off-dry, I'd say. Not bitter but herby.

[Andra]

Dear one:
Is it a bit like Cinzano?
Duff:
Is your memsahib's name Svetlana, per chance?
Just asking.

[David Duff]

Andra, to which Svetlana are you referring?

[dearieme]

Drier than Cinzano Bianco. I like Cinzano with tonic water and a slice of lemon - it does need the bitterness and sourness they bring. (I've probably told you that a consequence of limes being cheap at the mo' is that we've been using them in G&T - and they're a hit! Better than lemon. Clever girl, my beloved.)

P.S. Tonight, though, I'll be having a glass of Riesling. I'm determined to enjoy civilisation while it lingers on hereabouts.

P.P.S. We were at a Reception the other day and the shampoo was a Wolf Blass Pinot Noir fizz from South Australia. Bloody good it was, too. Just the thing for the Glenelg tram (if it still exists).

[Andra]

Dear one:
As a born and bred girl from Glenelg I can assure you that the Glenelg tram certainly does still exist.
It is, I believe, the only tram system still going in South Australia and is a wonderful thing.
This is bringing back so many terrific memories of Jetty Road and the tram trip into Victoria Square.
Glenelg was a great place to grow up in the 50's. Fabulous beach. I used to swim just about every day of the year.
I used to ride my bike up to Hamilton Winery's vineyards and lie around and eat grapes all summer.
Rode my bike all over Adelaide actually and nobody ever knew where I was from dawn to dusk. I shiver to think of letting a little girl do that nowadays. Kids can't go anywhere at all without an escort now. How sad that is.

[Andra]

David:
I was thinking of Our Mama's hired help in RealEstalker - one of my favourite blogs.

[JK]

Answering an inquiry Andra - I "think" I deduced your address from one of David's "funnies." To ensure safety, I Cc'd High Lord Duff onto it. Do hope I've the correct "Andra."

[JK]

Well DD, looks like it went pretty much as I'd thought it would, "YDM" garnered just a bit over a quarter of the votes in Ames (that's Iowa, USA. Known for... for... well, it's a few states down in the order of US states beginning with the letter, "I").

Given Mrs. Bachmann hails from the place her 28 something % lead seems a tad low - borrowing a descriptor - a skinny 4,823 of the 16,892 cast. Ron Paul second, though he had to spend one helluva lot of time in Iowa learning where it is on the map, 4,671.

Romney, smooth as grease through a goose squeezed out the expected 3.4% with 567 - Texas Gub'ner Perry not even participating, beat the Mormon garnering 718.

I was thinking right up til Perry entered a challenger from the Democrats themselves would emerge. Perry's entry pretty much puts the kibosh on that. But the current Gub'ner of Texas (in all likelihood the eventual Republican nominee) has one teensy weensy problem. His predecessor, none other than Obama's predecessor.

Dig through your closets for your party hat and whistles David, you look to be about to celebrate another four years writing posts on whether in the meantime, Barack can figure an umbrella out.

[David Duff]

Thanks for the update, JK, I have just arrived back from a night away and have not yet had a chance to catch up. There's a lot of blood to flow under the bridge yet and MDS has yet to show her all, er, in the nicest possible sense, you understand!

[dearieme]

When our daughter was three she vanished on the beach at Glenelg. Bloody terrifying it was. Eventually we found her; she'd adopted another family and settled down for a nice chinwag and a bit of play.

[Andra]

Must be something about the Glenelg beach.
Your story has reminded me that I got lost on Glenelg beach when I was about 2 and I ended up in the police station and the nice policemen gave me an icecream.
I also once spent a happy afternoon on the beach with Peter Finch and his then wife and their small child.
Then there was the Beaumont children. Nasty business that.
I had some wonderful times at the sideshows that line the beach in the summer months and met some terrific travelling show people. Some of them remained my friends for many years and we kept in touch.
Ah, memories.