Can anyone actually read this?

[Sparkie2182]

A yes or no would be fine.

[Malcolm G]

You haven't seen my writing, I'm told that only Pharmacists can read it.

But regarding the letter; Like some foreign languages, I can make sense of most of it but have to fill in the gaps according to context.

[Tomvart]

The "Honourable Member for the 18th century" strikes again!

I can just about make out who its from and to, the rest is just scribble to me - clearly too busy to create legible handwriting!

Being a Multi-Millionaire I would expected that he would have someone to do the writing for him.

[Sparkie2182]

"You haven't seen my writing"

Mine also.

The scribble above takes the biscuit......i cant decode who it's from no matter how i try.

[Sparkie2182]

Where in the world?

[Malcolm G]

For the benefit of the bemused:
It is dated 'St Crispin's Day' which is the 25th October.
The text:

Dear Prime Minister,
Many congratulations on your appointment as Prime Minister. I wish you every success.
As you will rightly want your own team I would be grateful if you would convey my resignation as Secretary of State for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy to The King.
It has been an honour to serve in this and previous roles but having completed some of today’s Parliamentary business it is time to go.
In the interests of the nation, the Conservative Party must unite under your leadership and I shall do all I can to support you.
I have the honour to remain &c.,
Jacob Rees Mogg

[Sparkie2182]

........A career at GCHQ awaits.

[Makko]

#5 - Verona! I broke in on the sound checks for Aida one fine day! Then, when I worked in Madrid, I enjoyed Placido Domingo's sound checks in the Bernabeu, most of an afternoon, even if they were trying to tow away my car! (The fine was more than the car was worth, but the signs said 1600 and it was 1500!).

My handwriting is actually very good and I make, on a daily basis, copious notes. I use a Cross gel rolling ball pen or my Waterman fountain pen.

I too, like Malcolm, can make out most of the letter.

Talking of Verona, the Italians are deplorable handwriters! Even numbers! I had a boss (Italian) who the only person that could interpret his scribbles was his personal assistant. Then she got pregnant and had take time off, WOE! for all. How could she read it? I don't have a clue! And they were, literally, scribbles.

Rgds.
Dave

[Hugh Shuttleworth]

I got most but not all of it. There was one occasion when my dad wrote to me at sea as my mother was in hospital (I think for a bunion or similar operation). I had to read the letter five times before I got it all. He was the local GP and the pharmacist frequently rang my mother to find what my dad had written on the prescription.

[Varley]

That de-crypt does not do the job. Morfe like:

Nemesis,

Lucky bastard, I hope Larry gives you cat-scratch fever.

See if I'm worried if HM laughs when you tell him you have had my cabinet portfolio stuffed up you, colonically and sideways.

Should you see one or two of us 'gathered together' we are not praying for your success but sharpening our knives.

I remain, Sir, your most obedient servant - like Fck, I do!

[Engine Serang]

Never sail with an English Catholic, they are straight laced, self righteous and a general pain in the arse. In fact a template for JRM.

[Varley]

Sail with them? I have them in the bloody family. I might add, however that the protestant enthusiasms of the north and west are not QUIET in their superstition either.

Pa's only prejudices were against bores and Roman Catholics yet his no 1 son and only nephew ended up marrying lovely examples. You do have to give them a bit of respect for the manner in which they are all part of the hierarchy, treating their priest as a servant of the parishioners.

An example I experienced early on when arriving in London on Christmas day (from 3 Maj in Yugoslavia) and, being stranded Cousin-in-law took me in.

A large part of her family were staying. I arrived just in time to help Cousin start washing up and preparation for the evening feast while all the rest went to their various choice of church for Mass.

The two heathens continued their labours (perhaps refreshed by goldfish bowl or two of G&T) until the worshipers returned.

Her Ma and Pa were last back and so late we were thinking of sending a search party. It transpired that they had gone to a posh venue (London Oratory or the like). They had not agreed with the homily and stayed to correct the celebrating priest and then went on to hear another mass which they thought they might enjoy more!

Sadly, my late cousin's family 'lost their faith' following his death despite them clinging loudly to it during my late brother's dying year.

[Malcolm G]

Actually I think that Mr V's interpretation was better than mine, which was I concede, much too literal.

Regarding RCs. - Where I worked last we had an establishment of just eight, four of whom were very lapsed Catholics and the remainder registered quite low on the givadam scale.
That did not stop us, however, from taking the mickey out of the Very PC training department whenever religion was mentioned.

[Engine Serang]

I'll forgive the Pope (not often done in East Antrim), Vincent Nicols and Mr V's in-laws if I can be reassured that Jacob RM used a Montblanc X Naruto Meisterstück LeGrand Fountain Pen. Religion is optional but manners are not. I'm sure Jacob would never let Nanny down. Mr Manners frowns on Bic biros.

[Ron Stringer]

My great-grandfather's family were Protestants from South Armagh (somewhat endangered species in recent times) but his sons seemed rather more secular, more likely to worship the British Army than any imaginary deity. All saw active service and one became a Regimental Sergeant Major.

My mother's family were nominally Roman Catholics but her step-father was nominally Protestant. I never saw any of them visit a church of any denomination whilst I still lived at home apart from attending family weddings or baptisms. However, having lived an entirely (thoroughly) secular life, when the Grim Reaper came on the scene when they were in their mid-80s, in turn both my grandmother and my mother suddenly decided that they should hedge their bets and became fervent supporters of their local R.C, church and welcomed home visits from Father McNally or whoever for several weeks prior to their deaths. Their souls departed our earthly company with the accompaniment of a Requiem Mass.

Needless to say, neither I nor my brother and sister were greatly impressed by this late change of behaviour and we continue to maintain our scepticism on the entire subject of superstition dressed up in fancy dress.