Obviously, as I’m going to be leaving the country in a few weeks, I had to watch over ten hours of Parliamentary Committees and six hours of Commons debate to tide me over until Christmas. I’m going to miss you, BBC Parliament. And, in ten-fifteen years’ time, Tom Watson will be ready for the Columbo remake.
(pies, of course, need to be kept in the appropriate place: Saturday morning childrens’ TV and kitchens)
I have 21 days to go. All of a sudden, after the past months of waiting and waiting, it’s all happening rather fast. Next week was supposed to be when I’d packing all my things into a shipping container and sending them off across the Atlantic, but paperwork issues means that can’t happen for a few weeks yet (and yes, that is cutting it quite fine, but I can’t do anything about it). So, instead, it’ll be chocolate and sweet-making plus watching some more films with Bonnie. Then, the week after, I’m in London most of the week for my visa interview, and then…one more week, a maelstrom of shipping, packing, and goodbyes before my flight on the 12th. Not. Enough. Time. Plus, when I get back at Christmas, CEEFAX will no longer exist. I ONLY HAVE TWENTY-ONE DAYS LEFT OF TELETEXT. The horror.
Now, I leave you to make a six-layer Black Forest Gateau from the Fat Duck cookbook. I may be some time.