Now I'm not one to normally read the Guardian. In fact, I'm probably as far removed from a typical Guardian reader as you've ever likely to get.

However. Kenyan Pundit (a great source of information regarding the recent elections) has pointed me towards this very interesting article written a couple of weeks ago. Any thoughts?

My new find, Norm, has been asking his readers who their favourite English language authors are. For me, it depends who I'm talking to. With some people I could probably be completely honest, with others, I'd make something up, just to please them.

Anyway, it got me thinking about writing and writers and then about Jane Austen (I was actually thinking about Sense and Sensibility - oh Edward - although I got there from writers, I don't know) and anyway... then I wondered... is there anyone living today with the same way with words as she had? Don't worry, this isn't my cue to turn into one of those scary Americans who dress up in funny clothes and quote endlessly. Although...

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, talent. There are very few modern authors that I read who have the easy style with words like Austen (or Dickens or Trollope or ... cont pg 84). I'm not saying that modern books are bad or in any way worse than their predecessors but I just wonder whether the modern day has affected the quality of literature we're offered. It seems that anyone can now become a published author, just because they have some form of notoriety - and, I would imagine, more often than not, the writing is not a fiction with characters and plots and themes, but a literary regurgitation of self-indulgence.

With the writing standards of our children continuing to fall and more and more "celebrities" wanting to push their stories out to the impressionable youth, will England ever have any standard of writing to be proud about again?

Nick Wadhams makes a very interesting point here about the situation in Kenya. It always bemuses me at how fickle the media can be. One minute Kenya is the big news story of the hour, the next, an (admittedly cute) octopus is headline news.

Why is that? Is it because there's not enough death and gore for the picture editors to drool over? People are still dying. People are still hungry. People still have nowhere to live. In order to highlight the issue, a number of Kenyan bloggers have pulled together to create Ushahidi - a website dedicated in reporting the unseen troubles which are still going on at home.

Personally, I don't know what the solution is. I'm not there and I don't have a vote so I don't really feel in any way qualified to make a comment. I don't think anyone is in any doubt that the elections were rigged however I can't see any way to make it all better. Surely if Odinga forcibly takes over then he is no better than Kibaki?

This story left me with a really weird feeling.

I know there are examples of brothers and sisters throughout history having those kind of relationships but it really makes me shudder to think it might happen in this day and age (and yes, I am aware I sound like my mother!)

Apart from the whole "marrying your sister/brother" weirdness I wonder whether the two of them always somehow knew something was wrong.

The story brings up a number of questions for me:

1. why wouldn't the adoptive parents a) tell their child that they were adopted or, if they did b) that they had a brother/sister?
2. How did the pair of them find out that they were related?
3. Can they ever be brother and sister again, having done what (I assume) has been done?

At the end of the day, I do feel sorry for them, whoever they are. Having gone through 30-40 years of not knowing and then only to find out in the worst possible way.

Has anything caught your eye today?

I'm tired and I'm stressing. I'm worrying and I'm angry. I'm confused and I'm a little scared.

I'm sure I'll get over it though.

The problems continue.

Latest text from my mother: Have been out fighting for food for all the staff. John the day askari [secruity guard] had his house burnt down this morning so am trying to get him and family to a safer place. No food, no fuel and all pretty awful. Things will get worse tomorrow with planned march by millions on nairobi. Police on shoot to kill. Not looking good at all.

In other news, N, a friend and I are in the planning stages of a Cape to Cairo type expedition. Exactly the same except some minor details - we won't be going by train and we won't be going to Cairo. Anyone know a good Toyota dealer?

A belated Happy Christmas to all. Things are a little hectic at the moment. Am thinking about Kenya and trying not to worry too much.

The parents are safe but wisely staying in. Watch this space...

Normally quite a bit would have been drunk by the time we got round to it.

My mother and father would glance at each other, a twinkle in their eyes, small grin showing a slightly red tongue, tinged with red wine.

Out would come the cards and the cutlery. Space would be made on the table, all the unimportant things pushed to one side or taken to the kitchen. The spoons would be laid out reverently in the middle of the table. The cards would be dealt. All would be calm. And then...

... mayhem. Cards flying to the left, being picked up from the right. Watching, watching, waiting for a slight movement from the other players. Then suddenly everyone dives for the middle of the table, grabbing and grasping. Triumphantly you would brandish your spoon. A winner!

Until, at last, there was only one.

One of the things I remember about Christmas Eve in our house.