I intended to tape the LIFE ON MARS repeat last night, and either I malfunctioned, or they messed with the schedule, because I got a programme about Michael Heseltine and his wife promenading around the gardens of their enormous estate, discussing their horticultual feats and being smug.
The sculpture park was a real treat. 'Here's our Elizabeth Frink, haw haw...' Urge to kill was rather strong. In the hideous irony department, they also boast a rather nifty vorticist-y giant bust of Lenin, liberated from some public building in Lithuania. Oy vey.