Back on the Rocky Road.

I did predict it, didn’t I? Yesterday’s sojourn through the Land of the Contented was but a brief respite on the road. Normal service has now been resumed. The issues started landing on my head when I first went outside this morning and continued – along with the wet stuff – for the rest of the day. As I sat in the coffee shop this afternoon I took encouragement from the fact that nothing in this physical realm is permanent. Even the Himalayas are merely enduring.

And it seems the momentous meeting with the Exalted One will definitely not now happen. I suppose it’s my fault for taking too long to change my mind. She’s gone the other way to Kazakhstan, there to climb mountains, commune with her new companion, and cultivate a profound appreciation of trees.

(It appears I’m incapable of avoiding the lure of the alliterative even when my version of reality is curdling like a month old bottle of milk. I blame Mr Poe and his … Darkness, Decay, and the Red Death held illimitable Dominion… Bloody Americans.)

I feel demoted.

Tomorrow I start dealing with the consequences of today. What I can’t do anything about is the fact that Boris Johnson just murdered democracy.