Us dreich, miserable, types arose on the last day of a dreich, miserable year, to venture out into the dreich, miserable damp day to collect the several items forgotten yesterday when we visited Sainsburys. An early start in the mirk was required as the rain lessened and the met office live map indicated very heavy rain to follow shortly. They were correct. As I huffed my way upstairs the rain had already began the days offering. This the result, they say, of cold weather pushing down into north America thereby shifting the jet stream to the south. This brings mild, but wet weather, or the Atlantic Ocean as we call it, upon our heads. Climate change ensures this has made things worse than usual. Rivers are higher, some places flood more, but at least the Water Companies sewage floating therein is swept away more quickly. Touching innit?
At least the post is catching up. The cards have been arriving, a parcel or two also, and a delayed box from up north has arrived full of excellent goodies. I do not deserve women like these girls. Of course the 'Private Eye' mag from three weeks ago has not yet appeared, and I am unsure if one ought to have arrived this week. No doubt there are other items lingering in those large sorting offices placed at the edge of towns which will arrive in due course. I understand how this happens, a 'York,' a large stand upright basket if you will, full of mails in bags arrives, it is pushed to the side with all the others. Day after day, strike after strike, more mail arrives and the 'York' is pushed to the back. Therefore later mail gets through first, until someone realises what is happening and changes things around. This kind of thing, believe me, is easily done. The dreich, drookit and miserable postman delivered my box today but without a smile. Mind you, in all the years I have known him smiling was not seen as his normal habit. Anyway, that's more chocolate for my few remaining teeth, a pullover that fits and another book to read. This is a good one. She has always chosen very good books for me, though I suspect her son helps, and this is another good one, which you will hear about in good time I suspect.
So, we leave this year of joy and happiness, several Prime Ministers, umpteen Chancellors, and goodness knows how many cabinet ministers have come and gone. The stability under the teeth now residing in No. 10 is based on making more money for the rich, not upsetting the 'wide-eyed loons,' and selling off whatever is left on the Tory ideology list.
More strikes then?
The year makes no difference. Life goes on whatever the year. We decide what happens, and the Good Lord rules over all the feeble upstarts leading the nations, both good and bad, mostly it is true, bad.
No need to despair, Jesus continues to rule, our lives will have their ups and downs, there will be good times and bad, tragedy and laughter, and hopefully you will enjoy much laughter in spite of the many tragedies that we will face.
2 comments:
That expression on the man's face in the painting, that about sums up how we felt for 2021 and 2022 too, didn't it? Surely, 2023 will get better. We live in hope!
Kay, His face speaks for us all. The years will continue as nirmal, up and down like they always do. I hope your year is a good one.
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