lynda retweeted
🚨 Britain's fresh produce sector could face over £300m in extra annual costs under the proposed UK-EU trade reset, the sector warns
It fears additional import checks could push up fruit and vegetable prices
READ MORE: farminguk.com/news/uk-fresh-…
lynda retweeted
The historic Limoges Town Hall in the Nouvelle-Aquitaine region of south-central France.
A bunch of masked cowards burned down a 143-year-old civic landmark that survived two world wars. That’s not a protest. That’s moronic cultural vandalism. They torched the shared memory of a city, then scurried off into the night. Despicable.
lynda retweeted
No time for people who think it's acceptable to get behind the wheel in this state 🤬
Well done to that fella for stepping in 👏👏
In my opinion, working royals are loyal to King and Country. So what do you think?
A poll asked readers: “Should Prince Harry and Meghan Markle become working royals?” The poll ended at 9 am on October 18
The Public have spoken - 97% said NO
express.co.uk/news/royal/225…
lynda retweeted
This is the fucking GALL of these people! 🇵🇸
A caller named Khaled goes on LBC, defends the “Palestine poppy,” and calls the deaths and sacrifices of our soldiers a “trivial matter.” 😡
My grandfather suffered awful injuries in the Second World War. He came home broken, like thousands of others who never fully recovered. Those men — and the ones who didn’t come home — are the reason this country still exists.
They already disrupt the two-minute silence and vandalise memorials. Now they openly call our war dead trivial when someone defends the actual poppy.
If our fallen are so trivial to you, and Palestine is all that matters, then fuck off to Gaza, fuck off to Palestine, or fuck off wherever it is you’re so busy defending. You have no place here.
lynda retweeted
Bridget Phillipson voted against a national inquiry into Pakistani rape gangs.
As the minister for Women and Equalities, she has not met or spoken directly with a single woman in Piddington.
Lord Alli funded her 40th birthday-related event.
Throwing stones in a glass house.
lynda retweeted
If Alice weidel & Marine le pen get in and close borders to both France & Germany then remove benifits to illegal migrants as they both say they will, I hope this @UKLabour & @andyburnham know the uk will be prime destination. We absolutely must sort ourselves out before this happens.
lynda retweeted
In 1996 the BBC put two large women on a motorbike and sidecar, sent them round Britain cooking with lard, cream and butter by the block, and twelve million people a week sat down to watch them refuse to apologise for it.
Jennifer Paterson was sixty-eight, a Catholic who had cooked for the staff of The Spectator and been sacked for throwing the crockery out of the window. Clarissa Dickson Wright was a barrister who had drunk her way through a fortune and come out the other side. Neither had been on television. Both had been told all their lives that the way they ate was going to kill them, and both had decided they would rather be fat and fed than thin and lied to.
If you watched it you remember the sound of it. Jennifer scraping an entire pack of butter into a pan while talking about the war. Clarissa holding up a lump of suet to the camera and saying the word with relish. Game pie, kidneys in cream, bacon fat poured over cabbage, a pudding made with a pound of dripping. They cooked for monks, for lifeboatmen, for the Women's Institute, in country-house kitchens with the Aga going.
And every episode had a moment where one of them turned to the lens and said what nobody else on television would. Low fat was a fraud. Margarine was a chemical. Vegetarianism was for people with something wrong with them. Clarissa said if God had not meant us to eat animals he would not have made them out of meat.
It went out in forty countries. The BBC had expected a curiosity and got the most watched cooking programme it had ever made.
Jennifer died in 1999, of lung cancer, with a tin of caviar on the bedside table that she had asked for. Clarissa went in 2014 at sixty-six, having spent her last years defending the butcher, the gamekeeper and the dairy farmer against a country that had forgotten what they were for.
They were never right about everything. They were right about the one thing the nation was being lied to about, and they said it with a sidecar and a block of butter in front of twelve million people at a time when every other cook on television was holding up a tub of spread.
lynda retweeted
I’ve just seen the so-called "Palestine Poppy" & it’s one of the most worst things I’ve ever seen.
Attempting to hijack on a well known apolitical symbol which brings people together on Remembrance Day is completely disrespectful.
Only the most insufferable people will wear it.
lynda retweeted
George Harrison stands at the gates of Friar Park,staring at what most people would call a disaster.
The Victorian mansion is decaying. Grass grows through the floors. The once-famous gardens are wild and overrun. Greenhouses have collapsed. Grottoes are buried. Paths have vanished under decades of neglect.
He’s 27. The Beatles have just broken up. He could go anywhere. Do anything. The world is waiting for his next move.
Instead, he buys the ruin and starts digging.
Not as a hobby. As a way of life.
He hires ten gardeners and works beside them from dawn until midnight, hands in the soil. His sister-in-law sees the place and asks what he’s thinking. George doesn’t explain. He just keeps working.
His son Dhani grows up watching his father gardening by moonlight, squinting in the dark because the shadows hide the imperfections that bothered him during the day. The music industry keeps calling — albums, tours, interviews. More George Harrison, the Beatle.
George wants to plant trees.
Friar Park isn’t just a garden. It’s a strange Victorian dream: caves, tunnels, a four-acre Alpine rock garden topped with a miniature Matterhorn, and gnomes everywhere. He even photographs himself among them for All Things Must Pass — then goes back to pruning.
When a nursery owner mentions slow sales, George buys one of everything. When someone offers 800 types of maple trees, he takes them all. His wife Olivia remembers him saying, “It’s not my garden, Liv.” He saw himself as a caretaker. The garden didn’t belong to him — he belonged to it.
By 1980, he publishes his autobiography and dedicates it “to gardeners everywhere.” He writes that he’s simple. He doesn’t want the business full-time. He’s a gardener. He plants flowers and watches them grow.
Journalists visit and call it un-rock-star-like. George doesn’t mind. He’s lived Beatlemania, stadium screams, cultural revolutions. Compared to restoring hedges, it felt empty.
After John Lennon’s murder, the gates close for good. George and Olivia keep working — not for visitors, but for the work itself.
He dies in 2001. Today, the gardens are considered masterpieces of Victorian landscaping. Olivia still tends them. The estate remains private.
George Harrison chose dirt under his fingernails over applause.
And in that choice, he found something stadiums never gave him.
Freedom.
lynda retweeted
There is no other material on earth that can do what a fleece does, and it grows on an animal that eats grass.
It keeps a sheep alive on a Welsh hill in February, in sleet, with no shelter.
It keeps a Bedouin cool in the Sahara in August.
It keeps a person warm when it is soaked through, which is why mountaineers wore it to the top of Everest.
It will not burn. Put a match to it and it chars and goes out, which is why it lines aircraft seats and theatre curtains.
It absorbs a third of its weight in sweat and gives off heat while it does it.
It blocks the sun. A wool shirt has the ultraviolet rating of a decent sunscreen.
It does not smell. The surface stays too dry for the bacteria that make a shirt stink.
It stretches a third of its length and springs back, so a sock holds its shape for years.
It stops sound. Recording studios and classrooms line the walls with it.
It stops cold in a loft as well as fibreglass does, without the itch.
It soaks up oil, which is why the mats laid on spills are made of it.
It dyes deeper than anything, which is why a Persian rug is still red after 300 years.
It felts into a tent that a Mongolian family lives in through a minus 40 winter.
And when it finally wears out, it rots into fertiliser, and the next sheep eats the grass it grew.
Every one of those jobs now has a synthetic doing it worse.
The sheep had all of them covered before the chemist was born, and it does it again every spring for nothing.
lynda retweeted
Islamic scholar in the UK:
“The law of Allah is superior to all of your laws. You cannot oppose or contradict what Allah says. We don’t like your democracy.”
This is Islam. They hate Western democracy, but they take advantage of it to advance the cause of Islam and eventually replace it with Sharia.
lynda retweeted
😡 POLANSKI: DO NOT DEPORT GROOMING GANG LEADER! 🤨
Zack Polanski’s shameful GMB performance exposes everything wrong with his worldview.
Grilled on the grooming gang monster Shabir Ahmed - a man who helped destroy the lives of countless British girls - Polanski squirmed, dodged, and refused to say the obvious: deport him.
Ranvir pressed him repeatedly: “Sorry, I’m not sure, would you deport him or not?”
Polanski’s weak non-answer: “It would require a threat assessment… if he’s still a threat he shouldn’t be out of prison at all.”
When told the victims say he IS a threat, he doubled down: “He committed those crimes in Britain so it makes sense to me that as a British citizen he stays in a British prison.”
Except he’s not a British citizen anymore. His citizenship was rightly stripped for his heinous crimes.
Kate Garraway tried again: “So you wouldn’t deport him then?”
Polanski: “Well if he’s still a threat, it doesn’t make diplomatic sense to me for him to go be a threat somewhere else.”
What?! It makes perfect sense to remove these predators from our country. Ahmed is a Pakistani national. He betrayed Britain’s trust and generosity. Send him back to Pakistan - he’s their problem, not ours. Get him away from his victims and the public immediately.
This is the same Zack Polanski who was demanding personal security this morning while insisting the rest of us must live at the mercy of foreign criminals like Shabir Ahmed.
Hypocrite. Weak. Completely out of touch
