Peter Rhodes: Eton or Wolverhampton?

YESTERDAY'S item on predictive text had an example of Wton (short for Wolverhampton) being confused with Eton (the public school). In real life, the two could never be confused. One is a multicultural place populated by people with an impenetrable accent and bizarre dress-sense who are ridiculously proud of it. The other is Wolverhampton.

YOU may recall my ill-fated Campaign for the Restoration of Authentic Plumbing, a cause damned by its own initials. It may be time to revive it. A report by Age UK alleges that modern push-button lavatory flushes can be impossible for some old folk to operate. A device that makes perfect sense to bright young designers in the bog-flush industry may be quite impossible if you are old, frail and have a touch of arthritis. As a general rule, if something has worked for 100 years, leave it alone. Pull chains and lever flushes have served this great nation very well. Let us see more of them.

A EURO-QUIZ. Who is the president of the European Commission? When was he elected by the people? What are his views on migration? What's his wife's name? If you are stumped for the answers, you are in the majority. We know all these things about Donald Trump, the new President of the United States, but are blissfully ignorant about the leaders of the European Union. It proves that, whatever The Remoaners tell us, most Britons have never really engaged with the EU. Even after 40 years of the European Project, we still look west towards Washington rather than east towards Brussels.

NOW, the answers. The EU president is Jean-Claude Juncker. Elected by the people? You must be joking; he was appointed by MEPs. He says the migration crisis should be handled "with solidarity and the heart." His wife is Christiane. That's enough EU trivia, isn't it? Now, back to the interesting stuff at the White House . . .

GREAT excitement at Chateau Rhodes for the double-glazers have been. As they stepped from the van there was a huge bang and I swear they both left the ground. "That's a bird scarer, right?" said the foreman. Indeed it is. It is a propane-fuelled cannon thingy in the next meadow. The bird scarer scares neighbours, ramblers, salesmen, Jehovah's Witnesses, cats, dogs, foxes and badgers. The one thing it doesn't scare is, well, you can guess the rest.

THE double-glazing blokes did their stuff brilliantly. I watched one of them doing that thing with acrylic sealant. He ran a thin bead down the side of the plastic trim then licked his finger and expertly smoothed it off. Do not try this at home, kids.

MY tale of a driver leaving his car with the engine running at a red traffic light while he sprinted to the corner shop reminds a reader of a story told by a lollipop lady. A horse-drawn trailer crossed the red light she was patrolling. The warden remonstrated with the driver. "Sorry, luv," he replied. "It's the 'oss. He's colour blind." I dare say this yarn has been around for as long as horses and traffic lights have shared this planet.