It' another spectacular day down here in Sussex, but Gorse Fox seems to have developed a cold. It snuck up on him during the evening and by bedtime he was streaming.
Talking of Cold... it would appear that Gordon got cold feet. No real surprise there then. Much more interested in having the job than having the mandate to do the job. Gorse Fox thinks, in an obscure way, that this is a good thing. It gives Dave a chance to polish up some real policies to add to the few already announced.
Gorse Fox believes that he would start by reviewing every single item of government expenditure. He would then use this as the springboard for re-balancing or cutting tax. It is too easy for the baying hounds of Nu-Labour to scream about cuts in services when the Tories announce a tax cut. If, however, you start by listing various items of government waste and their cost, you can explain that by not funding x and y we will reduce tax by z. Oh yes, and don't do the sums yourself - get a firm of tax accountants to do it so that you can't get the usual response about getting the sums wrong.
This is what the southern edge of Sussex looks like this morning. Bright, sunny, warm, calm and alsmost deserted.
The battered sentinels(*) that guard the beach and strive to prevent the erosion of the low lying land beyond are looking a little tired and in need of replacement in some locations.
The Victorian buildings along the Worthing seafront are reflected in the pools left by the receeding tide.
The Gorse Fox can think of few things less appealing that the heaving beaches you see in the holiday brochures.
A slightly more conventional view of the Pier.
A sthe Gorse Fox approach Worthing, where he planned to meet Urban-cub for lunch, he noticed that more than just rope and net could be snared up on the groynes.
Here and there the groynes had snared some fishing net, or some rope. Barnacles clung to wood turning the surface into a visious abrasive, but hiding this was green and brown beard of kelp.
