Too early on Sunday, a little later in the same pandemic

To bed late after a whisky too many and now a healthy distance into The Hood. The goombahs have made an appearance. I’ll see what happens next.

It’s a rainy morning here, too, very windy.  Due to do some social stuff but might hang home. Podcasting is possible.  A painter is coming to discuss painting parts of the house in a week or so.  And I want to discuss the changes in space opera as a result of ever more scientific data about space, living there, and travelling through it with Gary. Might.

It also feels, as it has for a while, like a time when you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  For another lockdown to happen (described, of course, as the menu of the day now requires as “short and sharp” so we know that the politicians know what they’re doing, regardless whether they do). I say this, not because I don’t support lockdowns (I do) or vaccination (I do!), but because the politicians just look lost.

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