Do you ever those days when you spend ages looking for something? You look in the place where it was meant to be. Then places nearby, and odd shelves and cupboards and drawers. Then you go back to the original place you looked ... but all the time it's staring you in the face. Honestly, I spend ages wondering where on earth I'd left rolls of washi tape and - oh yeah, I'd used them in this box of embroidery threads to keep the spools from falling over. Doh! Someone needs to invent a device where you can type in whatever you're looking for and it tells you 'it's over there!' and sighs dramatically, as if you're the biggest idiot in the world. Anyway, enough of this nonsense. I've just finished reading this, Rory Stewart's memoir of political life. I'm neither a natural Tory or a frequent reader of politician's memoirs, but it's a cracking read. It made me simultaneously feel sorry for MPs. The good ones wh...