Walking this evening in sunshine in Margravine Cemetery; the grass mown for the first time this year, trees in bud and spring flowers in bloom. The lark, no doubt, on the wing and the snail on the thorn; though it seems a bally silly place for a snail to pick.
But it is not a normal evening. It is the first day that I’m aware of the implications of the ‘flu virus. Whether living in a city or rurally, every individual and family will have to think through what the next two or more months hold. I will share my experience over the coming weeks. Right now I’m a little apprehensive and cannot help feeling as if I’m in a John Wyndham novel. Like having acne, enjoying sci-fi and John Wyndham is a stage I went through as a teenager. I remember liking Asimov particularly and it looks as if there will be plenty of time to revisit his stories in the weeks ahead. So far all I’ve bought is a thermometer and a bottle of vodka to augment existing supplies. Bertie has been naughty – stockpiling.
Wherever you are:
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.
Actually we will meet again tomorrow, inshallah.
Are you aiming to drown the virus in alcohol? Also, don’t forget to wash your hands with the vodka, now that hand sanitizers are only available on the black market.