Troubled Times

Today to the House of Lords for lunch with Lord and Lady –––, Mrs ––– and Lady–––. Lady––– (the first one) showed us around, and it really is quite a place. The iconography, expressed in huge Victorian narrative paintings, heraldic stained glass and sculptures of great men (yes, men, virtually all of them) of the past, drives home the deep history (and potent mythology) of Britain so forcibly that you wonder how those who run the country (in the Commons, at least) seem so blithely unaware of the past and what it has to tell us. I blame Tony Blair.
A highlight of the day was shaking the hand of Jacob Rees Mogg. I told him I'd once been mistaken for him (by the proprietor of a Turkish restaurant, but I didn't mention that detail) and he professed himself honoured. It's possible to carry good manners too far...
Meanwhile, outside, the crowds of Leavers and Remainers were milling around stoically, carrying their placards and waving their banners. Troubled times. But, as Lady––– (the first one) remarked, it's not a civil war. Not this time.