Bad weather for ducks

As my parents drove me to the station, we hit a duck that was enjoying the puddles in the road. That was a sad moment.

I occupied myself on the train with Fearne Cotton’s 90s music show. Some absolute gems that I had forgotten about such as No Way No Way by Vanilla and Step by Step by New Kids on the Block. Alisha’s Attic deserves a mention, and Take That’s back catalogue is really very good.

Clare and I had a spirited WhatsApp discussion about the duo Shakespears Sister and the correct use of the possessive. We couldn’t wrap our heads around this band name, and she was worried about future instruction of her children. I argue that being conscious of correct use of possessive grammar already puts her in a narrow percentile, and that her children don’t know they’re born.

I was hauling baggage but back in Cambridge I managed to meet up with Elizabeth and Amy in the botanical gardens. The weather was squally and we alternated between perching on tree stumps and sheltering under a fir.

Later I headed towards an Airbnb to continue to ride out visa limbo. Having left Heidi’s because I’m on the cusp of travelling, I’ll have to arrange bookings one week at a time for the foreseeable.

I’m following the upcoming announcements about lockdown. I understand the emotional fixation on Christmas as people want to pull a cracker with a rarely-seen relative. However is that treasured moment worth the cumulative several weeks of lockdown in the run-up? If tens of millions of people intermingle at Christmas it’ll vastly exceed the impact of mixing by university and school students. We need to be prepared for high daily death figures in January and February.