Russian chill
Here we go again. It’s only mid-October and I passed a gritting lorry on the road this evening. I’m hoping for another long, cold, snowy and disruptive winter.
Fortunately I haven’t got around to putting away the de-icer, the windscreen scraper and the snow shovel since I last used them a few months ago.
But I didn’t mean to write about the weather. I meant to let you know that Prime Minister Putin and I both have TV sets of about the same age and neither of us has gone digital.
I glimpsed his television in the recent toe-curlingly uncomfortable interview in which a very nervous young census-taker asked a series of banal census-questions of the Russian leader, his alleged wife. and a dozy dog.
The dog was the most relaxed mammal in the room. Which was surprising considering that its normally private quarters had been invaded by a camera crew and associated paraphernalia.
It had probably been drugged. Unlike Mrs Putin.
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This morning I woke to a list of roads closed by snow and it was decidedly chilly as I left the hotel for the office.
Fortunately there was no snow in Edinburgh – the office is about 1/2 a mile straight down the hill and my work shoes have very flat soles.
I must remember to bring a sledge with me next week.
BF – sensible shoes would be better than a sledge. Especially at the end of the day.