Tarriers of Sweet Nobility,

Tomorrow sees the Glasgow North East by-election, it's all pots, pans and pieces. With an upcoming general elections, the winner of the by-election might only be in the seat for a short while. Candidates might see it as a short holiday in London. They're quite a bunch. SNP and Conservatives have put forward former TV news reporters as candidates, media presentation rather than substance seems to be key to their decision. Labour have selected a teacher. The Liberal Democrat campaign has been hindered by blunders. There are a bunch of smaller parties (Go Greens!), then the two former Big Brother housemates (Mikey Hughes and Tommy Sheridan) and John Smeaton. Tommy Sheridan doesn't seem to have been allowed much airtime on TV or radio, it might be nice to send him to London to ruffle a few feathers. The Sun newspaper seems to have been throwing its weight around on the national scale recently but I haven't noticed their opinion on this contest, mostly because I don't read (sometimes, its impossible to avoid what their headlines). They've declared support for Conservatives at the next election but in Scotland, where the Conservatives are weaker, they've had to remain quiet. Furthermore, John Smeaton, who appears less than competent in his campaigning, is a Sun columnist. It seems in this case that The Sun might just have to wait for the news to occur and then report it, what a novel idea!

Of course, The Sun have gone to town over Gordon Brown's error-strewn letter to a war widow. Poor Gordy tries to do what is right, and I agree more care should have been taken, but whatever he does it's never enough for people; once he leaves office, I think he ought to get his own TV programme so that people could warm to him and perhaps realise their misjudgement over a cup of tea on the sofa.

I visited the local supermarket to top up the office tea-making supplies. I found myself dawdling behind a woman and her young son; to amuse him, she would send him up each aisle for the required item on her list. 'Go get a loaf, backwards, forwards, there, just there, bring it to me.', she coaxed. I avoided them but we were to converge again, at the sugar, where I found the child lying flat on his belly atop the pile, the mother came scooting along to scold the child, 'Come on, Theodore, stop licking the sugar.' Sugar really is the answer to most of life's problems, except for when it's frosty, most people use salt then.