With the situation in India worsening by the hour, the title of these posts is not changing yet awhile. I watched the news tonight and Matt Hancock’s response seemed repulsive. He showed no evidence of empathy or understanding that while Covid is actively killing people anywhere in the world we are all at risk. He didn’t sound interested or concerned.
I don’t mean to suggest that Hancock is a colder fish than other members of this government. Boris Johnson’s dismissal of concerns about who paid for the redecoration of the Downing Street flat with an airy comment that the public isn’t interested illustrates how out of touch he is. The cost of the redecoration has also raised eyebrows and dropped jaws. Yet another example of how the poor are expected to exist on very little but someone who is already very entitled feels he should have more.
I happened to be Westminster at lunchtime today and saw these banners. They pack quite a punch. There were more police officers about than usual.
Seeing me looking and taking photos, one of them spoke to me, and smiled. Is there a demo? I asked. No, he replied, PMQs, these are here every week. Now I live not far from Parliament Square but I am not generally there on a Wednesday lunchtime, so I had never seen these before. But isn’t it the role of the press to show us things like this? Or is this just another example of how these events are excluded so that we don’t get to see the peaceful protests about the state of our democracy?
I don’t know about giving up alcohol for January (and if you’re asking, no I haven’t; a nice glass of Grenache with dinner, and now I am slugging back camomile tea in anticipation of an early night) but I seem to have given up blogging.
It’s not intentional, I just seem to have been busy. And I was eye deep in my book, The Book Thief, which a friend of Cousin’s gave me in the summer. If someone had told me in my faraway youth that in my sixth decade I’d finish a book sitting on the hall carpet because I couldn’t wait to get to the sofa I’m not sure I’d have believed them. But that’s what happened. My bus journey ended about five pages short of the final page. I came home, took off my outdoor things, sat on the floor to fuss MasterB and opened the book again. Continue reading →
The amaryllis is on its last legs but still strangely beautiful, especially close up. I met one of my neighbours on the stairs this evening, and was surprised when she said three times how much she loved the amaryllis . Now I am wondering what to plant there for the summer. Your suggestions are welcome..
Here is my amaryllis, delicately transparent in its dying:
This isn’t the picture i meant to post tonight. As I said earlier, I came home minus my little Olympus, and I don’t know where I lost it. I shall try two places tomorrow and hope it is in one of them. With fewer police stations about, my chances of it being handed in if I dropped it are remote.
I took this picture last week with my Lumix. It is of the West Front of St Paul’s cathedral.