Snowless and out of focus

Up late this morning, and when I did get to my desk, I lacked focus. But even a non-productive day is a thousand times better than having to drag myself to an agency. 

A lunchtime walk, the snow all but gone, but the high fields were white. Getting chest pains above my heart from an exercise I was doing yesterday that had slightly strained one of the muscles. Despite me knowing what it was, I did not enjoy the occasional sudden stabbings. Hypochondria is a difficult business.

In the afternoon joined my wee understory conversation group with poet colleagues. I was underprepared for some reason and not particularly in the mood. But I enjoyed the conversation, and hearing some other people's work. 

Delores chatting with Lorraine downstairs. Her Christmas made difficult by finding that one of her lodgers had died overnight. An upsetting business.  I popped out in the very chilly evening to complete my 10k paces, walking down by the sea. Delores borrowed my Natural History of Ghosts book, and we had a nice chat about them.

Another night at home, in the warm. Lorraine wanted to watch a bit of comfortable murdery stuff: an episode of Vera. Then we saw The Traitors again.  I also re-started a novel Greek Lessons by Han Kang. Continuing my mission to complete books I had only started recently. 

In a world full of wretched news, I felt sorry for those folks in LA who have lost their lives and homes to terrible wildfires fed by high winds. Meanwhile it seems like Zuckerberg the Facebook guy has spinelessly caved into Trump, before he's even become president, and further relax the controls of complete hate and misinformation being spread on his platform. Today I deleted my X app as it is a cess pit.   

Below snow on the high fields and a car parked looking out to sea after sunset.