Julia came home from work with Bear Claws tonight. In case you aren’t familiar with th eterm, this means that she brought fruit-filled danish pastries home. They are a treat and not a terrible deformity.
We sat round the fire, drew the curtains and reverted to winter, in much the same way as the weather has done ever since I said that Spring was here. Tomorrow I was going to have a walk, but the forecast is for rain, so I am reconsidering. Having lived as a recluse for the best part of a year I don’t really want to go out just to get wet. In fact I don’t want to go out. I’ve got used to having a lid on my life and I’m not sure about going out and just having sky overhead.
Stange how these things creep up on you. is it lockdown, or am I just becoming old?
I have been doing research on medals today for work. One was an interesting group – aman who served 21 years in the Royal Army Medical Corps in the Boer War and Great War. He was decorated twice, wounded, had enteric fever, and became a publican after leaving the army.
His reward for for all his service – the death of his eldest son in 1941, serving in a second world war.
No mater how bad we may think things are, it sometimes serves us well to look back at history and see how much adversity other people had to face.
I note that daffodils are out now, and the crocuses don’t seem to be doing at all well.