Hellyb ❀ 💙 🦊

@Telegraph Me!

❓Who would you rather have as prime minister?

@MarilynHawes7 💯

Yes

@shouq_al90149 💯

@Councillorsuzie @Eurovision And vote for Israel 🇮🇱

I will now ensure that I watch it @Eurovision

Uncanny resemblance!

I have serious doubts about Kouri’s mother #KouriRichins

I feel a bit uncomfortable about these boys being dragged into the impact statements #KouriRichins

Kouri is extremely disrespectful to this court #kouririchins

@sharrond62 Terrifying yuk

Sadly this is not toned? This is malnutrition

@brigitte_angeli Appalling - so ctruel and unnecessary 😡

Incroyable découvert par les éboueurs...😱

@CarlBovisNature Why on earth would you not like them ?!

Some people don't like Starlings.... I'm definitely NOT one of those people.....are you? 😍🐦

@claudelittner Wow 🤩 he’s just amazing !

Sir David Attenborough. Wonderful man, and true broadcasting legend. Happy Birthday 🎂. 100 years of age! 😃 😊

#channel5 #surgeons incredible operations being meticulously undertaken by these heroes

@stephenpollard @spectator So upsetting - I’m really sad reading this 😔

Here's my @Spectator tribute to my wonderful cat, Louie, 'Nothing prepares you for the death of a pet' spectator.com/article/nothin… My companion – my friend – Louie died suddenly on Tuesday. He was nine (his tenth birthday was due next month) which, in cat years, made him middle-aged. No one saw it coming – he’d had his six-monthly check-up a few weeks ago and was seemingly fit and well. If you don’t have a pet, you can’t fully appreciate the depth of the bond and the corresponding rawness of the grief. Louie has been my constant companion, especially since I divorced and moved into my own flat six years ago. Living alone, I regarded Louie – formal pedigree name Albalou Bojangles, a British shorthair – as my closest friend, in the sense that I saw more of him (it seems bizarre to be writing in the past tense about him) than anyone else. He was there throughout Covid, when I was shielding, and through treatment for my leukaemia. My whole flat is a reminder of his presence with scratch pads, toys, cat furniture, and all the other paraphernalia that comes with a cat. The morning after his death was so difficult. We’d had a morning routine which was the same every day. I slept with the bedroom door closed, as otherwise Louie would be in the room demanding food. At around 5.30 a.m. he’d start scratching the door and meowing loudly. I’ve always been an early riser anyway so I’d get up and go to the kitchen to give him his food as he rubbed himself against me, as if saying ‘thank you’. Then he’d push his face against the shower glass as I washed and follow me to my bedroom, jumping on the bed while I dressed. Louie would follow me into the study as I looked through the papers and hop onto my desk, usually bashing my keyboard. That same routine, every day. But not any more. I’m bereft. Louie had spent the day with me on Tuesday as I was having a new boiler fitted, so I was keeping him out of the way. At around 2 p.m. he was – as he often did – lying across my tummy as I watched TV on the sofa, purring happily as I stroked him. I had to disappear to my study for ten minutes to check some edits on a piece and when I got back, he was lying outstretched, all 35 inches from his nose to the start of his tail, under the dining table, where he never sits. I went to stroke him and he didn’t move, so I assumed he was in a deep sleep. I called ‘food’, which always wakes him up, and there was nothing. Then I realised he wasn’t responding at all. I called the vet in a panic saying I thought he had died – I couldn’t quite tell if he had actually stopped breathing. I’m only five minutes from the practice and when we got there, the vet confirmed he had no heartbeat. As I think about it now, I’m struck by how he must have known something was happening and so took himself to a new place to stretch out ready to go to sleep forever. It was all so sudden – ten minutes before he went he was (or at least seemed) totally fine. The vet said it was most likely a stroke or a heart attack, perhaps after some underlying issue. The only good thing is precisely that it was so sudden and so he didn’t suffer. On Wednesday night I went to the kids’ house to break the news. Cat owners will know that wonderful feeling when you open the front door and your friend has somehow sensed your return and is sitting there waiting for you. I live in a maisonette and Louie would almost always be at the top of the stairs as I put the key in the door. There was no Louie that night when I got home. My flat is empty. Rest in peace, my friend.

@Jan_Leeming Awful woman

Love this

@peaklass1 @RichardBowler1 @networkrail I got the same reply but their ‘action’ will take too long

Why the silence on this @networkrail? In the face of increasing public anger? These birds will have travelled around 14,000 miles when they return to their nesting holes - only to find them blocked up. Nature is increasingly squeezed into ever-shrinking spaces, forced to fit around our sprawling network of transport and housing and commerce. Please act NOW to rectify your thoughtless actions! theguardian.com/environment/20…

@sharrond62 Yes! Until next door blasted out their awful music 😡

Lucky to be sat in my garden today (after getting a tyre repaired & a nail removed earlier, thank u Andy) listening to the horses (not mine) neighing & playing in the sunshine, so excited summers coming! Anyone else glad to see the back of this winter?

If those astronauts go around the moon and can find no trace of Lisa Stansfield’s baby then I really think that’s it, we’ve exhausted all lines of enquiry

@SandyofSuffolk Well said! This is completely accurate 👏🏻

The trouble is young people have been told for years "you can be anything you want to be", when you can't. They've seen a handful of people make millions from being an influencer. They've all gone to university thinking it'll be a gateway to a better job when, really, if you're not exceptionally bright, you may as well not have bothered. The majority of people have to settle for run of the mill boring jobs. And young people are resentful. They're waking up to the fact life is hard graft and to get anything you have to work hard, long hours, and forego many things that, until adulthood, were handed to them on a plate. They're lashing out because too many people like teachers and their soft parents haven't prepared them for life in the real world. It's coming home to roost that life isn't all unicorns and gap years. They want what nan and grandad have. Now. Now!! They forget how nan and grandad got it and it wasn't by sitting on their bums on Playstation. Welcome to planet earth young 'uns.