It’s Grand National Day in Liverpool today. And I’m visiting friends in Knutsford who are big theatre fans and who’ve booked us a seat at a Shakespeare play in Manchester that starts at the same time as the famous steeplechase. Who was it who said “Friends are God’s apology for relatives”?

But, anyway, an article in yesterday’s paper reminded me that, around this time last year, I got on a train to Liverpool and was treated to an astonishing display of what passes for dress sense among the city’s females. If you’d like to see what this year has thrown up, click here and then move to this link for pictures that you’ll have difficulty believing. Unless you’ve ever lived in Liverpool. I like to think it’s all a reflection of the importance of humour in this great city but have to admit I’m not entirely sure about this.

To be more serious, click here to see what happens when “politicians set policy on the basis of ideology”.

A regular reader has kindly sent this comment on the announcement of the discovery of Governmentium:- "A good friend of mine from Stanford University's Linear Accelerator has advised me that this element is so powerful it can't be destroyed by any force known to man. On the other hand, a professor at U.C. Berkeley's Poli Sci. department published a paper indicating that it would be harmful to the environment if not dealt with kindness and love."

A couple of observations on life in Leeds, as I get ready to return to Merseyside:-
- How many bloody Starbucks and Costa Coffee places does a city really need?
- How long will it be before there’s a Greggs’ Pie shop on every street corner?
- What does a Greggs pie actually taste like? Especially the steak and chilli one.
- Will I ever be able to get a steak and chilli pie in Galicia?

My younger daughter does have her uses. Flicking through the functions on my camera like all those who routinely eschew instruction manuals on the just-suck-it-and-see principle, she’s shown me how to take blog-destined fotos that don’t have to be laboriously down-sized before being posted.

Finally, and talking of fotos, here’s a pic of one of our Thai dishes of the other night - a rack of lamb in a coconut-based dish, to be exact. To the average Galician – who (like my mother) believes sauces only ever serve to mask bad meat – this would be as appealing as a plate of dog vomit. Especially as it was pretty spicy. In sharp contrast, we were in taste-bud heaven. Chacun a son goût, as the French don't say apparently.

En passant, a significant part of the enjoyment of this dish was that the meat - as it should be in all spicy dishes - was mutton and not young lamb. Took me right back to Tehran in the mid 70s.