Saturday, 9 April 2011


I went to help my parents set up at an alpaca show about an hour away up the M5. On the way back, as we drove over the Sedgemoor Drain, my father sighed miserably. My mother, who was driving, patted his knee, and asked what the matter was. She rarely asks that sort of thing, but then he had sounded quite depressed. "I was thinking what a shame it was that Monmouth didn't press on to London in 1685", he replied. My dad's a bit of a loony, but I do like that he's unexpected.

I don't think he's so much pro-Monmouth, by the way, as anti-Judge Jefferys.

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