The Big Event.

My landlord has invited us all to ‘tea in the garden’ tomorrow afternoon. How very Virginia Woolf of him. I would have thought it more appropriate to have styled the event ‘tea on the terrace’, he being a kind of lord of the manor and all. Maybe he was concerned that one of the great unwashed might soil the hallowed flagstones somehow, and be too close to the interior of the mansion anyway. The odd one might even smell bad.

Will I be attending, you might ask. No. Saturday afternoon is the busiest time of the week for me, and I’m not really the type to go hobnobbing with the landed gentry anyway. Not that I have anything against him. I’ve only met him once, and then only briefly. For all I know he might be thoroughly likeable. He might be so distanced from any antiquated notion of social hierarchy that he sings ‘keep the red flag flying here’ while playing with his rubber duck in the bath.

And that brings me to an odd and unconnected thought. Why does the Republican Party in the USA use red as their colour of allegiance? Red is the colour of Russian communism. The communist Chinese flag is red. Red is universally recognised as the colour of people power, whereas the Republicans are known for the opposite proclivity. Could it have something to do with the traditional colour of British telephone boxes, I wonder. Must ask an American if ever I meet one. I should imagine Americans would be the first to accept an invitation to tea in the garden with the lord of the manor (sort of), but I don’t think we have any in these parts.