Thursday 30th June 2016

There are days in which you see history being made right in front of you. Or if not in front of you, on your dining room table, then on the interwebs before you. Yesterday was such a day as Team Brexit, or Leave.EU as they were called, ripped each other apart and it was last Gove standing. It was like a car crash, or a really good episode of Dallas; I know, but stay with me.

I suppose, why I wrote the previous post "Political Games" was to show that the whole charade was run for personal political ambition, the desire of media magnates to enlarge their empires, rather than actually caring about the country or, heavens forbid, its people.

It cannot be denied that hanging over us is the referendum result, but now the actual pressing of the button has been delayed until "2017", and the exit two years before would be just before the scheduled election, unless one is called before then. So it would be easy to imagine the enacting of Article 50 being pushed back and back.

One last point is that the EU has said no negotiations will take place until after the 2 year period had expired after the article has been enacted. And today, Gove has since said in a speech this morning that he also would delay A50 until Britain was "good and ready", and as A50 is neither good and Britain is clearly not ready, so, prepare for more delays until "what referendum?".

One can hope at least.

Thursday is bin day, so after coffee, round up the rubbish to put outside, dragging the bin up the drive thus ensuring waking the neighbours. Which was nice. Or not.

Work was an omnishambels, and clearly the worst day at work since Wednesday, as people tried their very hardest to make my life as difficult as possible. Which was also nice. And then it is nearly July which means that most Danes are thinking of little else than the summer holiday, which is the annual Danish practical joke that we never tire off.

But I digress.

After getting through morning, I warm the fried shimp up, amke some flavoures cous cous, whichw as screaming for a glass or two of wine to wash it down with, but I am too much of a professional to do that, of course.

I suppose I had four hours sleep Wednesday night, coupled with the at least two days lack of sleep from the last week meant that come afternoon, and staring at the computer screen for six hours brought on the inevitable migraine. There was little else to do that to switch everything off, lay on the sofa with the curtains closed. The cats slept on, and I lay on the sofa as lights flashed behind my closed eyelids.

By late afternoon the migraine had passed, and Jools was due home. I fed the cats and waited.

Not sure if cheese and crackers was good for recovering from a migraine, but the wine helped, if making me tired. At eight we had rhubarb crumble and cream, a British classic and nothing wuite like it. And, thanks to Twitter, I was reminded that the football was due to start again, with Portugal playing Poland. It was an OK, but once Portugal equalised, then it settled down to a usual stalemate. At full time, I was so tired, I taped the rest of the game and vowed to watch it in the morning.