It would be easy to fall into the trap of adding to the doomscrolling that I seen to have fallen prey to over the last two weeks. I’ve not even checked the Covid numbers having obsessed about them for nigh on two years.
Instead I’ve tried to distract myself where I can. I’ve started two books, one a memoir by a vet ‘Don’t Work With Animals’ which seems to echo with my daughter’s experiences. As ever there is both humour and sadness involved but mostly what comes across is how these professionals manage to cope with umpteen species and two levels of client, the animal and the owner. It makes being a medical Doctor seem like a doddle.
The second, another by Ann Cleeves who writes very good detective fiction. I suppose they fall into the police procedural genre and if you’ve not seen Barb Taub’s explanation of how that genre works, there’s a link here. It is priceless.
Talking of my daughter, she treated the Textiliste and I to a trip to the O2 to see Simply Red. It was originally set for mid 2020 (lockdown) then late 2021 (the band got Covid) then February 2022 (Storm Eunice ripped the roof off the O2) and finally, after some speedy patching it was last Wednesday.
I loved Mike Hucknall and his voice back in the 80s and enjoyed follow ups but they’ve been split for a while so it is easy to forgot how many great numbers they have. It did mean that having my not quite 30 something daughter there brought the average age of the audience down to about 87 but there was a lot of energy generated, some not exactly familiar shapes being made in the crowd and the inevitability that several knee and hip replacements have been accelerated.
This weekend we’ve managed to find some time to go to Suffolk. The weather is that sort of raw cold that feels like it is seeping into your bones, but inside, with Dog knackered from a Sandy walk and chasing rabbits in his dreams, the fire fizzing and popping away and no excuse not to write it feels very indulgent.
I suppose I can’t not comment on the terrible events out East. So much has happened, is happening and every time something new occurs – now seemingly involving nuclear weapons going on standby – you can’t help wonder why Putin is acting so. I heard on the radio that someone has speculated it may be his mind is frazzled because of the steroids he’s taken to create his cartoonesque physique. That led to another commentator hoping that, if that is true, when the war is over he’ll fail a drugs test and be disqualified. I almost laughed but then I asked myself are there some situations where humour is inappropriate? If so then this must be one.
Maybe you’ll permit a limerick
One consequence of the war in Ukraine
Will be a world shortage of its fabulous grain
Which is one reason to put the boot in
On that a***wipe Vladimir Putin
Again and again and again and again…
Yes, it’s been a wearying week; as always the pets have the right idea..