winter – Nyamazela

“‘There’s no end to this tunnel,”‘ said Peter; ‘everything has an end, and you get to it if you only keep all on.’ Which is quite true, if you come to think of it, and a useful thing to remember in seasons of trouble – such as measles, arithmetic, impositions, and those times when you are in disgrace, and feel as though no one would ever love you again, and you could never – never again – love anybody.”

The Railway Children by Edith Nesbit

Having spent a glorious, somewhat truncated 3 and 3/4 months in in the beloved country, we sadly had to make a dash for the border on Friday.

BBC News had been ‘ranting’, for a few weeks, about the 77 cases (now 113) of South African COVID variant found in the UK. And then, about a week ago, the rant took an ugly turn. Suddenly there was talk of hotel quarantines, Biden closed US borders to South Africans, Emirates followed suit, KLM and Lufhansa also freaked out – and so did Hubby.

So we planned our escape via Doha on Qatar Airlines.

“Every few minutes I would reflexively check to see if my gas mask was still in place and, more importantly, if the holster still contained the self-injectable 10-mg canister of diazepam that had been given to me in Kuwait. The diazepam was to give me a happy death in the event of an Iraqi chemical attack… what they wanted more than anything else in the world was exactly what I was trying to avoid: a fight.”

War Reporting for Cowards: Between Iraq and a Hard Place by Chris Ayres

It feels like it’s been a long time since I wrote a blog post. Somehow the past week stretches out long and fuzzy.

My memory of the details is a nightmarish blur: work, church, Christmas bags, writing, wind, rain, bombs, shooting, news, Paris, websites, vessels, Spectre, Doctor Who, Downton Abbey, gym, restless sleep, hospital appointments, emails, study, French homework and general life.

Tonight is our office Christmas party. Continue reading Hibernation fever setting in: short dark days, comfort food and blobbiness