Housequake

I don’t know a lot about politics, but I am interested in owning a Duck Island, or maybe even just a Moat or some Wisteria. How does one go about getting these things? And the proper stuff too.  I have been harbouring a dream to employ a butler for quite some time, to serve me my morning tea and choc chip cookie in between surgery and the next chapter I really ought to be working on. Maybe I should stand for election. I have about as much chance as anyone else these days, especially as they are dropping like mock tudor beams in a certain house.

Then again, while all this talk of second homes is changing the subject from the imminent pandemic that might have been but probably isn’t – which reminds me – I am keeping my leaflet safe (are you?)  – at least as long as I don’t sneeze on it – but then there are people who don’t like other people rambling on and changing the subject and they might argue that there is a Second House about which we have heard very little. So far.

Let’s hope it gets even more interesting. And out with the gentlemen’s clubs. In with those of us who can never be gentlemen, who can’t think how a moat would work or where to start cleaning it. In with me and, if you must, the likes of Esther Rantzen. I never make expenses claims. I am a teacher. I can get a roomful listening to me spout nonsense without a microphone. I can work late. I accept ridiculously low pay. I know which tube station is nearest to the Houses of Parliament and would be willing to own just one property. I will never be allowed mock tudor beams on my conservation area home, which is nice, as I really don’t think it would work. I already have toilet seats. I would let Gurkhas live in the UK, but I would run an exchange system and send some of our country’s finest retiring MPs to Nepal for their later years. (I do believe in imaginative solutions.) I would also send 13 year olds to work on farms for two years at minimum wage but keep them taking their exams at 16. Everything would get better.