A Short August Swansong.

On the local front, August is going out in the manner to which it has become accustomed this year. This evening’s twilight walk was cold, grey, and rather miserably wet. But Millie the Horse was close enough to have her attention attracted so at least the treat of raw carrot was dutifully bestowed to lighten the gloom just a little.

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On the international front, I’m curious to know why Russia’s leaders make such strangely illogical public statements. They chose to attack another sovereign state. They chose, and continue to choose, to aim missiles at civilian targets, thus knowingly killing and maiming innocent people. And yet when Ukraine responds by damaging one of Russia’s bridges or a couple of their military planes, the Russian leadership calls it ‘terrorism’ and says ‘it will not go unpunished.’ Now, it would be hard to believe that there aren’t at least a few brain cells among Russia’s high and mighty, so even they must realise how absurdly hypocritical their responses are. Why do they do it? To persuade the patriotic proletariat that Ukraine is the bad guy? If so, are the patriotic proletariat thus persuaded? I really would like to know.

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On the personal front, the pressure of woes continues to increase. My daughter and her family have now been made homeless and I have no way of knowing where they are and in what sort of condition because I have no way of contacting them. That’s a constant worry. In addition, I’m surrounded by malfunctions, breakdowns, health issues, certain bleak prospects, and the corporate world being a pestering pain as the corporate world is wont to be these days. Some issues are more serious than others, but they all add weight to the backpack and it’s getting close to the point of being just too much. So what do you do when that point is reached? I suppose it depends on what sort of person you are.

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And that about wraps it up for August 2023. Let’s see what September brings.