Always Prepared

Coming home from Cambridge this evening I noticed that the cricket creases have gone from the playing fields of Framlingham College and have been replaced by rugby goalposts. Says it all really.

There was an end of term feeling too to the production of Macbeth in the Fellows' garden at King's College yesterday evening. We gathered, one and all, with our picnics, our rugs, our comfy chairs, our umbrellas and our excitement, hundreds of us, to enjoy the last production of the open air Shakespeare festival, a highlight of every Cambridge summer. It was a nice evening, but rain had been forecast and, sure enough, it came eventually. Hidden under my baseball cap and covered from top to toe in my car rug as I lay back in my reclining garden chair, I actually didn't realise, and stayed dry throughout. The classy prosciutto and rocket pizza slice and pint bottle of Adnams Blonde helped with the relative oblivion no doubt. The actor playing Macbeth, a hot, fit young man with a terrific stage presence, clearly didn't notice either as he stripped to the waist, face whitened dramatically for the final mad scene, muscles glistening with moisture. He strode around the stage killing anyone he came across until Macduff, not born of woman for he was "pluck'd untimely from his mother's womb", did for him. It was compelling, powerful, quintessentially English, this experiencing Shakespeare in the open where it feels natural and necessary.

The Laings have made a decision that, come the apocalypse, they will head to Suffolk where we will all struggle for survival together or die together. We've often discussed how they will get here if all transport systems fail and there is no petrol, but they will walk, cycle, do whatever it takes. My part of the bargain is to stockpile food and gear to see us through the crisis, and to that effect I bought another two packs of four 2-litres bottles of sparkling water. Every little helps. Actually, I drink so much of the stuff myself it won't last long. Hopefully when the end is nigh there will be a bit of warning so that I can empty Waitrose of its shelves, safe in the knowledge that my John Lewis partnership card will not be demanding repayment. That's probably how I'd like to go out anyway, generously kitted out by the company that I have single-handed kept in such a healthy state for so many decades. It's been a partnership made in heaven.