Morning sun

I came downstairs to dazzling sun penetrating the flimsy dining room curtains. It was the only day this week with some dry and bright weather, and unfortunately I missed most of it. It was a positive day though: J's online Art Talk was on the topic of illuminations and light art, and she had chosen photos from our archive of Durham Lumière, taken before we moved to Kent in 2013. It started as a biennial event, a wonderful blend of contemporary art installations, scattered around the medieval city centre and along the riverbanks, with the excitement and vibrancy of a street festival. We loved it, and very much enjoyed sharing some of the memories. 

This was followed by a video appointment, a useful and constructive review with the specialist physio and OT who run the complex splinting clinic at the neurological hospital, then a very late lunch during which J and I caught up with Bake Off. She always likes seeing cakes being made, and is particularly interested because there's a deaf contestant, a talented and bubbly young woman who J very much hopes will win. By the time I got out for a walk, it was dark, so I just walked briskly round the village for half an hour. 

As for the government's response to the legal ruling on its appalling plan to send asylum seekers to Rwanda, I was once again surprised to discover that this government still has the capacity to surprise me. I could only think of Through the Looking Glass: “When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, ‘it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.’  If they say it's safe, it's safe, and now that the Supreme Court has said it is not, they will put emergency legislation through parliament to rewrite the definition of "safe". I despair (again).