Peter Rhodes on party games, an Honours dilemma and lessons from Operation Drone

SOMETHING new on the "despite Brexit" front. Isn't it strange how many Iranians would risk drowning and hypothermia to live in Britain rather than settle anywhere else in Europe? Despite Brexit.

WELL done, all those who got something in the New Year's Honours even if, to the rest of us, it seemed like many of them got gongs simply for doing their jobs.

MEANWHILE, the Honours system produces the usual chorus of discontent. Why does the wife of a knight have the courtesy title Lady but the husband of a Dame gets no title? And in these enlightened and gender-fluid times, what about the LGBT+ partners of the ennobled? Don't they deserve something? Before anyone suggests setting up a Royal Commission, here's a simple solution. From now on, nobody gets any sort of honorary title on the strength of sharing a bed with somebody else. You either win the gong or you don't. End of.

I DOUBT if we will ever know the truth about the Gatwick incident when the airport was closed for several days by sightings of drones which, it now seems, may not have been drones at all. But it does prove an old theory from the heyday of flying-saucer scares in the 1950s. Namely, that if you ask people to look up into the sky, some of them will swear they see something, even if there is nothing there.

ANOTHER lesson from Operation Drone is that if one or two malcontents can bring Britain's second-biggest airport to a standstill with a couple of drones, imagine what a horde of eco-warriors could do with a dozen. After this crisis, can anybody honestly see Heathrow's third runway ever being built?

MY thanks to the reader who took time out of a busy festive schedule to test the theory that ducks and swans will happily eat healthy vegetables instead of the traditional bread. His offering of shredded greens is still untouched at the lakeside while every stodgy crumb of loaf and bun has been gratefully devoured. You can lead a duck to broccoli . . .

AN artful yuletide trick. By leaving opened boxes of chess, backgammon and Trivial Pursuits in your hall, you will create the impression among visitors and neighbours that you've had an intellectual and dead sophisticated holiday. The truth is that our guests spent four days playing Poo Head (in which woollen faecal items are thrown at a Velcro helmet), Exploding Kittens (don't ask) and Whoopsee Whoopsee! (in which blindfolded players attempt not to tread on simulated dog poos). As somebody once remarked, no-one ever lost money by underestimating public taste.