The Coronavirus Diaries, 8th November 2020

Celia and I saw our first full on Christmas decorated balcony today. I think I need to go back and take pictures one evening when night has fallen. It was quite a sight and made us gasp then laugh. We were out for our first constitutional since learning that Trump had lost the election. Well that’s a relief.

Obviously there are still some 72 million people who voted for him which suggests something extremely worrying, but at least the Toxin in Chief will soon be gone. I have no doubt he will attempt all sorts of tedious and potentially dangerous things to overturn the result and to make things difficult for Biden, but it was amazing how in the space of a few minutes he became yesterday’s man, an annoying and loud irrelevance. We drank champagne to welcome the change.

I watched part of the news and listened while various Trump diehards, some toting serious weaponry, we’re not talking pea shooters and spud guns here, said it was the media who had lied and basically they were robbed. The interviewer asked who they would believe other than Trump himself. Well, that’s a good question, came the less than encouraging reply. So I am guessing the conspiracy theories will continue to circulate, and how you solve this is something way beyond my understanding.

I have never taken so much interest in an US presidential election before, not even Obama’s. The figures sat unchanged for so long it was, my neighbour Mark said, like watching paint dry. And rather like dry paint, you have to hope the colour matches the chart you chose it from. I’m excited there’s going to be a woman Vice President, excited she’s a woman of colour. I am less enchanted by the Free Melania guff. Melania did not have to marry Trump. She seems to be a good match for him, they appear to share repugnant views and he is as much her trophy husband as she is his trophy wife. There are women much more in need our help and sympathy than Mrs Trump.

I have started a jigsaw, one Celia and Charlie gave me. I’m making pretty good progress having abandoned the edge until last as it is the hardest part. The jigsaw is called Famous Felines (why would they have chosen that for me?), but just before you are conjuring up brave ships’ cats who kept vessels free of vermin and were torpedoed several times, or Doorkins Magnificat, let me disabuse you. These are pictures of cats with names wrangled from famous people. So there’s Mary Wollstonecat, Pawdery Hepburn, Frieda Kathlo. All are female including two gingers who look very much toms to my eye, Emily and Charlotte Brontail.

All the MasterB calendars are sold and dispatched. Himself is curled up asleep on the chair and will I expect soon wake up to demand biscuits, a game and to go out.

Stay safe. Keep well.

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