It is fair to say that 2019 was characterised by more than my fair share of poop being served to me on a platter, and yes, I am very well aware that a great many others have a great deal more poop to face than I ever did. And because these days I live such a distance from my family and friends, I tend to write a lot of emails and not got out socially very much.
In hindsight I realise that this has a magnifying effect on my woes. A vortex of navel-gazing and it is not a healthy way to be.
So I decided to resist the temptation of responding to recent emails and get creative instead, and this is the beginning of the result.
I was absolutely determined to get this far with it and blip it today before indulging in emails, and now that I have got this far I am more tempted to continue with it than to stop and write. But yesterday evening when I was racing to get this far quickly because I was feeling guilty about my silence, I have made an error in the stitching. I say stitching, it is not really stitching, more weaving I believe, and therefore incredibly easy to correct by unweaving and reweaving, were it not for the fact that the error is in a closed loop which has been tied and the ends cut before noticing the error.

Observation for today is that the phrase “glacial pace” no longer means what it did. We still use it to mean movement of imperceptible sloth, but the fact of the matter is that our glaciers are vanishing before our eyes.