Up the Junction

Or rather down as we were on our way home via Clapham when I took this shot.

We had been to S George’s. I sat in ja pleasant little cafe just off the reception area of the Atkinson Morley wing and took my annual bum call from a completely different hospital that has been monitoring my ulcerative colitis for the last ten years. If this was an MOT then I would have passed with flying colours (apart from the small matter of my deafness - but you don't need to be able to hear in order to open your bowels). 

So mission accomplished. We stopped for take away Indian food in Tooting Broadway - probably one of the best places in the country you can go to for Asian food - and couldn't resist nibbling samosas and peshwari nan on platform 2 of Balham station.

I thought I had the return to work thing sussed but I found it more difficult chairing our weekly team meeting than I thought this morning. Nothing like being deaf to make you realise who speaks clearly and who doesn't.

News headlines:

The Grey report was ultimately whitewash. Johnson grovels again but won't resign. Piece of shit. Sorry. no other word for the man.

The Ukraine is becoming the news that hypnotises: it is dreadful but unfathomable. Like covid we have gone from obsession and horror to torpor and numbing acceptance. But a new world order is emerging - difficult to know if it will be better or worse. 

Another mass shooting in the US. 21 dead, mostly children. America shrugged off gun death many years ago. It is now a way of life, like The Hunger Games. It is baked in to the American psyche. It is an output of a deranged society in the same way that Johnson is an output of the UK's culture of self denial and the Russian culture of lying through its teeth about the Ukraine.

As a species we are dead in the water and will soon be literally dead. But I did put  up new shelves in my office this evening and am arranging my books at last. The apocalypse. although inevitable, will at least be well observed in this house.