Hm. So, where to start?

A blog dormant for two months. It’s not that I’ve done nothing but I’ve felt that in the scheme of things *gestures all around* everything I have to say is so small, so irrelevant. I can’t make sense of anything and others are better qualified and better able to string together words, descriptions, emotions than me in these momentous times when it’s getting things right is of supreme importance.

There have been times where I’ve really wanted to comment on something personal or something with wider political significance but to start means to finish and where to start? Where to finish? You see? I’m burbling. Burbling seems to be de rigeur  at the moment so I hope you’ll forgive me.

I’ve decided to break this overwhelmed stasis by doing shorter journal entry-type posts. They are less intimidating to write and much easier to start than articles that take time to form in my head. I often think of making a point but can’t allocate the time to think it through and write it. Or maybe it’s just laziness.

The dire economic and social prospects for the UK have been a further deterrent to writing. I am checking my privilege here and wary of sounding insufferable when so may people are really suffering.

Anyway since we last met, I did actually finish my Lands End to John O’ Groats Odyssey but with a whimper rather than a bang. My right knee had been really painful since February so I had to limit my running time. Luckily I could use my rowing machine when I returned home and that’s been really miraculous in gradually building and maintaining my muscle tone and easing the pain. Sadly, as soon as my right knee stopped hurting, my left knee started, but – touch wood – this week for the first time since February, neither of my knees is in pain.

I went to see Ms Eliza taking part in a drag event in Edinburgh in June. Her appearing as Elika Beerquaffed, twin brother of Parisian socialite Elixir D D Beerquaffed was astounding, and confused her drunken, rowdy audience into silence. She’s been doing more and more of these shows, and seems to be well-reviewed.

I’ve been lucky enough to resume contact with some old friends this summer, too, which has been delightful. Spending time with people you first met years ago is refreshing and wonderful:  you can just be yourself without any mask or pretence.

A short trip to Norfolk preceded John returning from Hong Kong to take up a new position with the same employer in London. We have spent almost three quarters of this year apart, so living together again has been an adjustment, especially as overdue work on our house has meant that we cant unpack our airmail and airfreight boxes, and the seafreight furniture is still to arrive.

Choosing dressing up outfits for Mamma Mia the party last week to mark Sarah’s 60th birthday was a little intimidating but we had so much fun singing and dancing until they chucked us out. Our group made quite a spectacle of ourselves walking through the O2 to the venue. It was like that scene in Catch Me If You Can only with flares and ruffles and platform boots. If you haven’t seen it and like ABBA, I’d definitely recommend.

I have managed not to catch Covid 19 so far, although I did have a nasty and suspect cold shortly after my trip to Edinburgh, when I had to push my way through a sweaty and drunken crowd of thousands of young people there for the the Royal Highland Show. I tested negative for six days but still could not believe it was just a cold.

Oh and both offspring and their respective Significant Others visited a few weeks ago, giving us our first night all under the same roof since the end of December 2019. It was quite momentous and wonderful to spend that time together.

And now the summer has passed and we begin the long countdown to Christmas.