On a Fixation and a French Friend.

I can’t get my mind past the election result today. It feels like 1066 all over again, and metaphorical references to the Harrying of the North might not be as far-fetched as they would appear. I’ve even started worrying that the Republicans might perform the same trick on my American friends in next year’s Presidential Election. I’m even seeing signs of becoming a Hillary Clinton fan. Imagine that.

America, make me your first woman President. 

The time is right; the time is now. 

I will not let you down.

Will she? I don’t know; I’m heading into unknown territory here. But what do you say, Yankees?

I need to change the subject, but fixations are hard to shift. I need a ditty to come sliding off the vide printer, but the old machine is lying dormant at the moment.

The one notable event from today was that I got a reply from the French woman who gave me a ticking off on YouTube (see yesterday’s post.) It was in French, but the gist of it was that she was sorry she hadn’t got the joke. She was tired, apparently. So now Angie and I are friends.

Angie isn’t a very French name, is it? I was seeing a girl called Angie (briefly) when I was seventeen. She wasn’t French, but then she didn’t put her name in inverted commas either. I assume only French Angies do that.