A spot of perspective
Beth popped in for coffee this morning, and in the Evening, Lorraine collected Sam from Brighton station and drove him to Chichester where Gary was having a belated sixtieth party. Gave Lorraine a good chance to talk to him. Otherwise we lay fairly low today. The weather fairly hideous, although we took a turn around Blakers Park in between the rain. Spoke to Mum. Read some fiction by Matthew Rees and an excellent poem Sarah Barnsley sent me for an opinion on whether it should have an epigraph or not. I thought it should and she said others had said that too.
While Lorraine was out early this evening, I watched the third of the documentaries about Trump on BBC. It is chilling. Trump is not over yet, and despite him supposedly lagging way behind in the polls, I think the reality is very much tighter. Terrifying what another infliction of Trump will do the US, let alone the rest of the world.
Infection figures are rocketing in the UK, projections are saying the impact of the second wave will be harder. Little cheer in the world. I am watching a series of youtube videos Anton told me about WW2, each one outlines a week's worth of events. I've reached spring 1940. And we think the news is bad now. A spot of perspective helps.