Reggie and I were unadventurous yesterday. We reprised our Monday morning walk to Bruniquel but this time in low cloud and a light drizzle, or a grand soft day as it’s called in Ireland.
A cuckoo did what cuckoos do, but fortissimo, and I noticed more wild flowers: roses, honeysuckle, gentians, broom and other stuff I couldn’t identify.
This time equipped with a wallet, Reggie and I headed into the fleshpots of Bruniquel where he attracted a lot of admirers. He had been practicing his tarty, come-hither look all morning.
Now it’s time for me to eat humble pie. Earlier this year when the FTSE index was hovering just above 7000 I was confident that either it would fall much further or, perhaps, stay in a sideways range (Where to Invest?) Had I known that both Sterling and oil prices would strengthen my certainty of equities falling would have strengthened too.
Well, sterling and oil have gone up and, gosh, the FTSE has gone back up too and is around 7600. I freely admit I was wrong and I should eat my hat – greasy hatband and all. It’s some consolation that Shell shares have gone up a bit since being tipped here some two years ago at just under £14.
The music today is dedicated to Tory councillors who failed to get elected last week.
But whither now the stock market oh sage ?
Are you still a bear?
HH seldom comments on posts with fiscal or financial content, as he finds such subject matter rather vapid. However, he must intervene to prevent the consumption of a perfectly good Lock Trilby. A generous portion of humble pie may be easier to digest, considering this evolved from ‘umbles pie’, which evolved from numble, which derived (appropriately for the authors vacances) from the French word nomble, which refer to the inner parts of the deer, which, I suspect, the author would actually somewhat enjoy devouring.