Shots of all kinds

Woke up the news that a twenty year old had tried to shoot Trump from afar, and had nicked his ear, Trump having moved his head slightly, and then killed a person in Trump's audience with another shot, before he himself was killed. Trump had the astonishing presence of mind to use the moment as political capital, and there is an amazing, election-winning photo of him blooded, and pumping his tiny fist with the inevitable Old Glory in shot. A historic photograph. The maga people taking this as proof that God wants Trump to lead America. 

Then I went into the loft, and found a roll of carpet that matched our bedroom. We cut out the aromatic patch where Brian has repeatedly offended. We will buy a new carpet, but a strip of the same carpet will do for now. Brian has now been banished in perpetuity to the kitchen at night and only in other places supervised during the day, and never in the bedroom. This means Calliope has too. 

Otherwise a watching sport day at Kenny Towers. Pat and Maureen watching the Men's tennis final this afternoon. Maureen again upset, as her favourite Djokovic lost to a Spanish guy. I went for another walk, and then got the barbecue going, chatting to mum on FaceTime, before the barbecuing got too intense too.

Today the coals were incredibly hot, and the chicken was cooked in no time. Added sausages and some home made burgers, plus various other salads of leaves from our garden and potatoes dug up from our own garden too. Lovely stuff. Beth and James came by to hang out with Pat and Maureen and us. Nice to sit outside again, and eat and sip the odd beer with everyone.

Then all indoors to watch England lose another European Cup final, this time to 2-1 Spain. The better team won, and the England team didn't disgrace itself.  Cole Palmer of Chelsea scored England's only goal and it was a corker. 

Below: the luck of the devil.