Cinnamon doughnuts

I struggled with work again today. I think the sunshine has infected me and lowered my resistance to the simple pleasures of life. This cinnamon doughnut attached itself to my mouth like a parasite and released sugar and spice which quickly infected my bloodstream. I ate it sitting outside my favourite cafe with an excellent cup of coffee and the sun warming my face. A feeling of wellbeing overtook me and pushed work into the background. There was nothing I could do. 

Dylan keeps escaping. We can’t work out how he does it but he seems to keep coming back to the front doorstep when it suits him, which is good.  We will check the perimeter fencing for holes over the weekend and tidy up the garden at the same time. The forecast is for more sun. And probably more cinnamon doughnuts.

The Ukrainian situation has reached a rather terrible point of moral Catch-22. In order to do the right thing we should wade in on the side of Ukraine. But if we do the right thing we risk Mad Dog Putin unleashing nuclear winter on the planet, which means we won’t have done the right thing. It’s the ultimate form of terrorism, he can take us all down with him. He can push and push and push with his finger hovering over the button and we won’t be able to push back…

Off to see Margaret Atwood at the Festival Hall tonight. She usually has words of wisdom in these situations.

POSTSCRIPT

I took the train to London. A young man was pissed and possibly hallucinating but the person sitting next to him was gentle and listened to him and spoke softly in return. The young man suddenly gave him a spontaneous and genuine hug. It was startling but rather touching.

Margaret Attwood was very good. Intellectually astute, compassionate and downright funny at the age of 82, who could ask for anything more? A few celebrity questions and a few (pre submitted) from the audience.

I left slightly early due to feeling exhausted but took a wrong turn in the dark and ended up in an endless fire escape spiral with bright blue walls. After what seemed like hours I bottomed out in front of a pair of doors which said “Alarmed! Do not open!” but I was grumpy by now and just pushed them open. I emerged into the fresh air on the Southbank without sirens going off or being pinned to the floor by security guards.

On the train a woman with a short skirt and a large blueberry muffin said that it had been a disastrous day diet wise but she had time to go to the gym tomorrow as her counselling had been cancelled because her therapist had Covid. I do love eavesdropping on people. She was mouthy but compassionate and seemed quite interesting. Her friend was a nurse and talked about her work on a maternity unit.

Halfway home the guard called for help from anyone with a nursing or medical qualification so after a short discussion they stomped off to see if they could help.

Weird evening. Genuinely. But good. I mean. All human life and all that …