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So a new political queen has been anointed and Boris Johnson is finally on his way to a lucrative career making squillions, no doubt, on the speaker circuit and in journalism and book writing. I’m not sure how Liz Truss is going to perform but I genuinely wish her luck. Surely, the looming pile of horrors in her in-tray, would strike terror into the heart of most normal mortals?

How does one solve the crisis that is the NHS and how will she manage to cap energy bills, offer vast handouts to greedy energy companies while supposedly cutting vat and taxes? I am not familiar with all the new players in the cabinet but Kwasi Kwarteng, former Secretary of State for Business and Energy, is certainly well qualified for the post of Chancellor and has an impressive track record with JP Morgan Chase and a splendid academic record.

It would be unkind to describe Therese Coffey as the joker in the pack as she is, by all accounts, a dedicated worker bee with a long track record in senior political appointments and has a PhD in Chemistry, to boot. However, at 50, she doesn’t appear to be in the best physical shape and if it’s true that she loves cigars, beer and late-night karaoke, she’s a curious choice for Health Secretary.

With 132,000 vacancies in the NHS, one in nine on a medical procedure waiting list, and with A&E departments overrun, she’ll have her work cut out. That’s before considering the difficulty of recruiting GPs who are leaving in droves or simply choosing to work halftime. No wonder few punters can get an appointment at their local surgery.

Of course, Liz Truss will have to watch her back within the party, having robustly ousted Rishi Sunak, Sajid Javid, Dominic Raab and the likes of Steve Barclay from her government line up. They’ll probably be warming the wax for their dolls, as we speak. Internationally, Truss will also have to cope with a largely cynical and hostile impression of the UK, that will need careful handling, especially post Brexit. Finally, perhaps her biggest hurdle will be the great British public itself. The electorate is still feeling sore post the numerous porky pies sold to them during BoJo’s term. In the words of Cilla Black, I think we should all wish her a lorra lorra luck.

Coming unstuck

Small and ludicrous challenges can truly prove a menace in everyday life and we all have our bête noir. One of mine is clingwrap. Whenever I buy a new roll it plays nicely and the thin plastic unfurls in a seamless path, ready to be cut. But somewhere along the line, an invisible gremlin (or maybe unknown member of the household) puts a spanner in the works.

Often I return to the pristine roll in the drawer to find it in a mangled and ragged state with no beginning or end in sight. It doesn’t matter how much time you spend snarling at the frayed plastic, it’s nigh impossible to find the start of the roll. I have, at times, in sheer frustration, taken a pair of scissors to the fiend, and in petulant mood, thrown the rest of the roll into the bin. However, I discovered by chance that if you buy the wrong kind of clingwrap, it is indeed a disaster waiting to happen.

The cardboard container should be robust and be equipped with a line of little teeth to help with cutting off the required strip of plastic, same with tin foil. BUT, the cheaper versions are made with thin card and the lame cutter hardly works. So, much as I like a bargain, I now succumb to a well-known brand for both foil and clingwrap. Third world problems indeed.