In My Dreams I'm A Post-Impressionist

I dreamed I came across a shed that was full of artwork I'd created years before and then forgotten. It was pretty good artwork too. You know Bonnard? Well, it was a bit like his stuff, only none of it was finished. 

Edward Snowden

Governments are in an international club that privileges the interests of the governors over those of the governed.  The Snowden case demonstrates just how this works. A very powerful government has been caught spying on the people of the world and suffers embarrassment, so all the other governments crowd round to cover its backside- even though their own citizens have been wronged- and the person who revealed the crime becomes a pariah.

Agatha Christie- Social Realist

Our neighbour from the big house came round yesterday evening and wanted to know if my mother was entering any produce- flowers, fruit, jam- into competition at the village fete. Lee is American, married to Jeremy who is probably a banker, with two children at Oxford and a third at public school.

This evening our neighbour who lives in the cottage at the entrance to the big house's drive came by in her little car to take my mother to the W.I. meeting. The chairwoman's nephew- a policeman- is giving a talk. Mary is single, bustling and acerbic. I imagine no sparrow falls within a radius of a couple of miles without her knowing who pushed it.

Both these ladies are pillars of the local church.

Earlier this evening, the Moleman- a cheery cove- appeared unannounced at the living room's picture windows and said he was going to be laying his traps. He referred to my mother as "a game old bird".

I've just finished reading The Murder at the Vicarage. It may be over 80 years old but- apart from the disappearance of domestic servants and the fact that the vicar is now a woman- Agatha Christie's picture of village life in the Home Counties still rings true.