Designer Patriarch

Another correspondent has pointed out to me that the 1990s religious programme whose slogan I quoted, "Women - know your place" was actually a comedy programme by a man called Harry Enfield. And the slogan was "Women - know your limits". None of which makes my point any less valid, in my opinion.

Especially on a day like today. Since last weekend I have been growing my prophetic beard. It is currently at the stage of what some refer to as "designer stubble". And so I had to take refuge from the gardening today because I tired of Mrs Collins repeatedly shouting "Oi! George Michael!" over the fence at me.

I explained to Marjorie about Mrs Collins and my experiences in Coalville. I was expecting some sympathy, but all she did was laugh for half an hour. And then tell me that if I was planning to be such a prophet, I should have foreseen my reception.

One area where I prefer to bow to superiority in women is in the area of driving. All the trouble I had driving came when, in fervour of evangelicalism, I over-estimated the joys of being free from the Law. By the time I had racked up 12 points on my licence in a couple of months, it was finally clear to me that the Law concerned was not a traffic law. It turns out that, free from the stain of sin and oppression of ritual law as I am, I still have to keep below the speed limit. So when it comes to driving, I leave it to Marjorie. Even before I stopped driving, she did a perfectly good job from the passenger seat in any case.