Blessed rains have come.
I wouldn't really say blessed, though doubtless nature could do with a drink. During saner times I'm sure the word 'drought' would be floating around like a germ. In fact it's probably being floated now because our climate has been unduly influenced by industrial humanity. It hasn't rained in weeks.
Not that I haven't enjoyed the warm weather, given that, during this crisis, I'm lucky enough to be able to do so.
Rain changes my feelings though. Feelings, as we have learned from such great thinkers as Barry Manilow (probably), are all we have. Life is an experience, perceived and intuited by our emotional self.
Cursed rains have come
The lanes, behind my house, take months to clear. The winter weather turns them to mud and flood. I have to dress up like an astronaut, complete with spacefaring wellies, in order to go there. For several months they remain impassable otherwise. When the sun returns she heals the land, carefully laundering and nurturing. Then, I can kick my heels. Easy in casual clothes and daps. Life is free and simple at that time. Until the rains come again, like today.
Heard back from the Bristol Autism Spectrum Service regarding my (second) attempt to get a successful diagnosis. All appointments are being cancelled for at least three months. I had previously heard, about a fortnight ago, that thy weren't seeing me at this time so this comes as no surprise. Obviously this isn't a priority. I'm assuming that, even though it's a completely different subject, resources are being diverted to where they fear they will be needed. Fair enough, says I. I wasn't expecting to be seen anytime soon anyway, so I guess in three months time, if conditions change, they'll just restart the queue. We're all in this together, right?
It rained again this afternoon. It is what it is. Even the warmth has gone. What mother nature giveth, she taketh away all the same.
Here is your daily dose of Class War.
Finally for today, I notice on Twitter the clips of people crowding London Bridge to clap. I get that this was a pretty stupid thing to do (some of them had kids - although ironically kids seem to be the let vulnerable to the disease). But again, it's the class aspect that stands out. Look at the stupid proles, says the commentariat. You know the ones isolating in privilege compared to many working class shut up in tower blocks, stuck in shitty rental accommodation - the sort where their Tory landlords charge extra for the damp and the cold. They have to cope with increasingly onerous conditions. I'm not going to condone this gathering, but it was done in good faith. Don't sneer. That is all.
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