The Storm

What Ho Proles!

Worry no more, patient readers: the storms are at an end and all at Murgatroid Hall are safe and well. I know how restless you’ve all been, sleeping uneasily after you lost regular contact with those of us at the business end of this anti-cyclone but I can assure you that it was no picnic for us, either, so you can save me your back luck tales. Oh, there were a few moments when I thought we’d lost a tile or two, and for a fraction of second during the night I did believe the West Wing had collapsed. However, put away your aid packages and cancel the telethons in our honour. A walk around the estate this morning has reassured me that all is well.

Seeing that the old place had not even suffered a scratch, I gave a mightily relieved sigh, even as I gazed down on the village where the fires are still burning and people are still being dug from the rubble. One only expects it, of course, with poor quality housing. No doubt I’ll be forced to raise rents again to help pay for the repairs. However, what I’m sure you’re really concerned about is that the Big House, as the locals call it, remains perfectly intact and that all is well. I’m happy to say: it does and it certainly is.

Having my mind already taken up with the matter of architecture and rebuilding, my eye was caught by this David Davies’ video that’s doing the rounds. You must have seen it. It’s where he expounds his ideas of designing out crime from high crime estates.

As I told My Man, it seems a tolerably good idea. I’ve always thought that there must be a reason why my own estate is so crime free and I imagine if one of these run down sinkhole towns were built in the style of a late Tudor stately home, with extensive early-Georgian renovation, there might be one or two fewer car-jackings in the world. David is on to a winner and I told him as much when I rang him after lunch. Sad to say, though, despite all his pragmatism, the old bruiser didn’t seem so struck with my larger plans to make tweed the new Burberry. As I told him: it seems patiently ridiculous to think of crimes being committed in herringbone.

Alas, these military types are very narrow-minded. They lose their imagination the first time they have their noses broken and, to be frank, if a suit doesn’t come in dark green with a mosquito net attachment they’re simply not interested.

I’m down in London tonight for a dinner party in aid of something or other. Might sneak in an update late P.M. but that depends on blood alcohol content.

Toodle pip.