The Lady B's Letter and the Wishing of Luck.

The weather here has been unremittingly dull and cold for the last week, and such conditions are unfavourable to my perceptions of life and the human condition. I’m tired of one and dismissive of the other. I’ve fallen into a state of mind comprising a sour cocktail of apathy, relentless musing, and the seeking of alternate worlds in which to immerse myself. Hence no blog posts.

Much of that musing has concerned the remote figure of the Lady B. She follows me as the scent of a tropical island might follow the lonely sailor heading west long after the fruits and flowers and seductive palms have sunk beneath the eastern horizon. Her physical presence is still in this world, but the phantasm lives only in a veiled place and out of reach.

Five and a half years ago I wrote her story down and settled it in an envelope. I asked my ex, Mel, to give it to her I’ve gone, but tonight I considered destroying it since what purpose would be served by her reading it? None at all, I suppose, but I’d still like her to read it anyway (although whether I shall care when the time comes remains to be seen – or not, of course.) I didn’t destroy it.

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I wrote most of that last night until it began to bore me. Today has been dull and cold again with occasional drizzle, but we’re forecast to have higher temperatures and a little sunshine from Wednesday on.

Tonight I feel I should mention the big news from across the water. It appears that the USA – at least in the guise of Messrs Trump and Vance – is tired of playing Europe’s older and bigger brother who occasionally steps in to help when the latest bully is going around biffing everybody. America wants to stand aloof now, still being the Big Boss when it suits, but declining to spend dollars on the ne’er-do-wells over there. That way, Mr Donald can add 'Charity Begins at Home' to 'God Bless America' as he stands with hand on heart planning how to cement his position at the head of the table for the long haul. And more middle class Americans will get jacuzzis, and the truly rich will become truly richer, and America really will be great again. And can you blame him? (Whether it will work or not is part of a different argument.)

But what about us Brits? We gave up being part of Europe with the Brexit vote, didn’t we, and Donald has real estate over here. So will he make an exception for us? Well, whether he does or not, I think we might have to decide whether we want to be the obedient lap dog tucked securely in Donald’s folded arm, or go cap in hand back to the EU and build a bigger army.

And do I really care? No, I don’t really care, at least not for my own sake because my time is nearly up. Tomorrow is the business of today’s young, and it’s for them to deal with. I wish them the best of luck.