Thatcher's chickens

Woken at four thirty by someone misdialling, probably drunk. Sleep on until six thirty and then get up and let Dolly out, before making breakfast. It is a bright, clear but cooler morning, with the wind out of the Northeast. Dolly and I have a full English breakfast and afterwards I hang out a line of whites and then put a load of coloureds in the washing machine, then shower and dress for church. Before setting off for Saint John's, I walk Dolly down to the little wooden bridge and she performs her ablutions, very handily, next to the waste bin by the farm. After taking her home, I drive to North Bar, park the car, and am seated in my usual pew by five minutes to nine. Father Roy is back from holiday, looking fit and relaxed, so the hybrid mass, part English, part sung Latin, is back. I find it much more aesthetically satisfying than the spoken service in plain English, probably due to nostalgia for the old Latin mass, but surely there has to be some connection between musical beauty and spirituality. Isn't singing together a form of spiritual communion? Anyway, as you can probably guess, I love the sung Latin mass. After communion, I collect Leslie and take him to Caffe Nero for our Sunday morning chat. He is in great form, and really enjoys our discussions on politics, economics and science. We both believe that Romney can't win in the US election, because he has to play to the Tea Party right and hence will vacate the middle ground. I take him home for midday and then call at the supermarket for more breakfast stuff and salad. When I get in Dolly greets me enthusiastically, and follows me around the house as I unpack the shopping and then bring in the whites from the line, which are now dry. Before hanging out the coloured washing, I take advantage of the dry weather and mow the lawns front and back. Finally we settle down to lunch, sitting in the warm sun in the garden. I make a tossed salad to accompany the cold Parmagiana with Ryvita. It always tastes wonderful cold, even Dolly loves it. After lunch I do a puzzle until the clouds roll in and it suddenly feels quite cold, there are also spots of rain. We put our feet up until five and once the rain has stopped, I pop on a fleece against the cold wind and take Dolly for her evening walk round the fields. Her season is just about over now, so once we are past the farm, I let her off the lead and she trots on happily a few yards in front of me, checking the scents and occasionally putting up a pheasant. As we walk through "almost straight wood", it comes on to rain, but we are sheltered and by the time we emerge, it has stopped. It rains again as we approach the bridge, but it's not heavy and we arrive home slightly damp, but in good spirits. For the first time since June, I turn the heating on and Dolly settles down next to the radiator, while I wash up and then check stuff on my iPad. My energy company, who had been overcharging me and had to give me a £500 rebate, instead of reducing my payments for Cherry by ten percent, as agreed, have actually put them up by the same amount. I have given them seven days to correct this before I close the account. Privatisation has been a disaster, all the energy companies make huge profits on the wholesale market and then cite market forces to hike retail prices. There is a cartel operating and the coalition are doing nothing about it. The chickens from Thatcher's right wing policies have hatched, come home to roost and are shitting all over the ordinary UK consumer. Monopolies may have been inefficient, but they weren't corrupt! As you may gather, these abuses wind me up. To bed at ten.