A Goat Called Maggie

How sad to learn this morning that the politician and writer, Ann Widdecombe, has died at the age of 78. She was the Conservative M.P for twenty three years in the constituency in which I lived in Kent, and she was bloomin’ good. A proper politician who could teach some of our so-called government a thing or two about how to serve the electorate and to conduct oneself in public office. I have often thought it was a pity she didn’t run for leadership of the Conservative Party when she had the opportunity, because she’d have made a great Prime Minister. Ah well…

I was thrilled when Ann came on a tour to Shropshire a few years ago, and I went to see her show at my local theatre. She was funny, honest and very entertaining, and I enjoyed the evening enormously. I bought her autobiography and queued to have it signed…

…and we had a chat about the Buttercup Goat Sanctuary which was very local to where I grew up and of which she was a patron.

In honour of Miss Widdecombe’s memory, then, I have this morning adopted a goat from Buttercups. The goat is called Maggie, after another inspirational Tory woman and Prime Minister of Britain, Margaret Thatcher. I know she is named for Margaret Thatcher because her two goat brothers - Winston (Churchill) and Neville (Chamberlain) are also there for adoption! 

This is Maggie…

She’s got a sparky look about her, don’t you think? And wouldn’t she look good in blue? 

I’m off to do some sewing now because that’s all I can summon the energy to do apart from writing. The weather continues very hot here. Nell had an early walk to avoid the heat, and I’ve watered the veg garden which is looking mighty fine. The wisteria is putting up a second flush of flowers and Mrs Swallow is on the second week of incubating brood number two. There are definitely four eggs, possibly five. 

I shall be glad when the football and tennis are over.