Cornwall is exactly 200 miles away from my house and I’m a long way from the border. I’ve left my worries behind. I haven’t written a things-to-do list for days. I’ve even forgotten what my own kitchen looks like: it’s been overwritten by the one in our rented accommodation.
Then Husband puts on the telly. It’s a day after ‘chancellor’ Osborne’s budget and it strikes fear into me. And anger into Husband. And reality comes crashing back.
There’s a reason I haven’t written much since the election. It’s easy to be flippant about the 80s revival. But it’s just too scary to look face-on at what’s actually happening.
So I’ll let Ian McMillan say it for me.
Amen to that. Scary as shit.
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