it’s no use having a blog that you only write every two months is it because  who’s going to keep looking to see if there’s anything new? Oh well, soon I’ll retire, I might even abandon the bloody garden to the slugs and then I’ll have time…

Saw Cameron swaying to the Spice girls and knew it was time to wake up, throw up and move on. Though I love those lines from the Tempest at the opening ceremony:  ‘Be not afear’d, the isle is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not, sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about mine ears’ etc, and  the punch line: ‘That when I woke, I cried to dream again.’   Remember it’s Caliban – a monster, a savage, a hooligan, who speaks those words in the play! (Not Kenneth Branagh dressed up as Isambard Kingdom Brunel.)  Which makes the whole thing even better.

One of my clients went to look at the marathon on the last day. He trod on a bottle top and it stuck to his trainer. He pulled it off and threw it away and up came a police officer and gave him a fixed penalty of £80. No more dreaming for Steve. Is this what they mean by the Olympic legacy? Anyway: they stopped his benefits months ago because they reckon he’s fit for work – I don’t, and I should know. He’s got hepatitis C, chronic depression, a terrible cough and he’s alcoholic.  So he can’t pay, he’d rather go to prison. Reckons he’ll get a TV in prison and better food than in the hostel.