The Digest 18/05/25

Actually, it's a digest from the 11/05 too. Whoops.

Writing

Trump 100
He’s not a power-obsessed fascist. He’s not the leader of an evil empire. He’s not a Mafia don. He’s not desperately seeking the approval of his Mummy. Actually, all of those might be inadvertently true, but none of them is the essence of Trump.
Working Tools
The most obvious benefit? I’m saving a fortune on subscriptions. My mobile phone is Android, and therefore Google, and some apps seem inescapable; WhatsApp is ubiquitous here.
On the Box
Perhaps it’s the state of the world, or the effects of semi-retirement, or maybe it’s the wisdom of age, but I’ve gone soft.

Shopping

Shopping? Ha!

Adulting

In Monopoly terms, I've turned over the Community Chest card that levies house repairs having put loads of houses on Bond Street, Regent Street, Oxford Street, Park Lane and Mayfair.

Just as the perimeter walls and fences were finished, and a new roof put on the terrace outside the kitchen, the ceiling and walls of a guest bedroom became features of a wet room. A pipe was leaking, within the wall.

Oh good.

Our ancient fig tree has crown gall. So far, it's taken three huge branches, but we may need to cut it all the way back to a stump. The truck that took away the wood inflicted further damage to the railing upon which the front gate runs, which was previously damaged by an ambulance. I haven't mentioned it to the current Mrs L yet, but I'm quietly budgeting to get a new rail installed.

Keen not to miss out on a chance to assault my wallet, Mrs L's BMW's central locking is on a work to rule. We can only unlock the driver's door. No passengers unless they can get through the window.

So, in Monopoly Terms, everything bar Old Kent Road is mortgaged, and I'm trying to rebuild by charging £6 to anyone who lands on it.