Mae Hi'n Braf, Iawn

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I was going to comment on the piece in the FT over the weekend about über-wealthy people fleeing these shores because of the forthcoming changes to Non-Dom status [why should any normal person care about that, anyway?]; the frenzy that is forming over 'Bet-gate' that has now spilled over from the Tory Party to the Metropolitan Police - insider information, your honour? - to a lone Labour Party candidate having placed a bet on his own electoral chances: a somewhat different kettle of gambled fish in my opinion, but indicative of the stupidly febrile times in which we live. I also intended to comment on the first day's testimony of Gareth Jenkins before the Post Office Scandal enquiry today, but I'm keeping my powder out of the rain on that one at least till the middle of his four day hearing. So I won't mention any of these at all, and just reflect on living in the glorious place that I do. Pictured, the fledgeling arch over my recently-finished steps down from the patio to the side garden. It's coming along very nicely, and in a couple of years should form a substantial structure in itself, framing a nice chunk of view from Fairview Heights. Keep you, as always, posted... 


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