“What’re you in for mate?”
“Cleaning a river without a permit. What about you?”
@EnvAgency is really plumbing new depths of malevolent uselessness here.
An historic day, as the River Wye becomes the first river in the UK to have its rights recognised by local authorities across its catchment.
Hundreds of people gathered on the banks of the river to watch as representatives from Monmouthshire, Forest of Dean & Powys Councils, Herefordshire County Council, the Wye Valley National Landscape & Bannau Brycheiniog National Park signed the pledge recognising the rivers rights and then spoke about why they had done so what it would mean for the relationship of their organisation to the river. It went beyond legal formalities into something of a service of thanks & honour to the river, with poetry, a choir singing songs, & offerings to the river.
It has been a real honour to witness & be part of the surging movement towards river rights & guardianship on the Wye. Four years ago I met & advised Herefordshire Councillor Elissa Swinglehurst, who wanted to put a voice of the river on the Wye Nutrient Management Board. A year ago I sat around a fire on the banks of the river with other Wye guardians & Earth lawyers as the idea of a charter was first mooted. To see it become a reality, & supported by 6 public bodies, in just a year is astonishing.
Now, of course, comes the hard work of making those rights a reality. But given the hundreds of active river guardians, & increasing public pressure to protect & restore the river, if it can be done on any river, it will be done on the Wye.
lt's the oldest boulangerie in Bordeaux 🇫🇷 and for 250 years, their bakers have used the exact same recipe for bread, which they bake using their original wood oven built in 1765. The space is jam-packed with loaves in varying shapes and sizes, along with classic French pastries.
☆ la _ dolce_vitaaa (IG)
Congratulations to Sithamparappillai Jegatheepan of the Fournil Didot bakery for winning the Best Baguette in Paris Competition (aka the Grand Prix de la baguette de tradition française)! Jegatheepan now has a one-year contract to supply daily bread to the Élysée Palace.
One of our 6 top @WCKitchen kitchens in Gaza…reached 1 MILLION MEALS A DAY THIS WEEK joined by more than 60 Community kitchens plus restaurants….plus bakeries plus water filtration locations plus….hope! People
Of Gaza feeding Gaza. This is the way! Bombings should stop, trucks with MORE food must increase, with tents, with medicine, medical equipment…..more is more! And the urgency of now is yesterday!#ChefsForGaza
*One month before her 95th birthday, Patricia Routledge wrote something that still gently echoes:*
**“I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. In my younger years, I was often filled with worry — worry that I wasn’t quite good enough, that no one would cast me again, that I wouldn’t live up to my mother’s hopes. But these days begin in peace, and end in gratitude.”**
My life didn’t quite take shape until my forties. I had worked steadily — on provincial stages, in radio plays, in West End productions — but I often felt adrift, as though I was searching for a home within myself that I hadn’t quite found.
At 50, I accepted a television role that many would later associate me with — Hyacinth Bucket, of Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would be a small part in a little series. I never imagined that it would take me into people’s living rooms and hearts around the world. And truthfully, that role taught me to accept my own quirks. It healed something in me.
At 60, I began learning Italian — not for work, but so I could sing opera in its native language. I also learned how to live alone without feeling lonely. I read poetry aloud each evening, not to perfect my diction, but to quiet my soul.
At 70, I returned to the Shakespearean stage — something I once believed I had aged out of. But this time, I had nothing to prove. I stood on those boards with stillness, and audiences felt that. I was no longer performing. I was simply being.
At 80, I took up watercolor painting. I painted flowers from my garden, old hats from my youth, and faces I remembered from the London Underground. Each painting was a quiet memory made visible.
Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning to bake rye bread. I still breathe deeply every morning. I still adore laughter — though I no longer try to make anyone laugh. I love the quiet more than ever.
**I’m writing this to tell you something simple:**
**Growing older is not the closing act. It can be the most exquisite chapter — if you let yourself bloom again.**
Let these years ahead be your *treasure years*.
You don’t need to be famous. You don’t need to be flawless.
You only need to show up — fully — for the life that is still yours.
*With love and gentleness,*
— Patricia Routledge
In case you missed it in one of its last dying breaths before being axed Ofwat has allowed water companies to double, yes double the amount they pay back on their steaming piles of debt from £11,057,000,000 in 2019 - 2024 to £22,047,000,000 in 2025 - 2030.
And guess who gets to pay for every damn penny of it.