Well it happened as we knew it would. We worried and dreaded our way through Spring in a mute silence broken only by newly enfranchised birds and emergency sirens. We looked forward to a potentially sickness free Summer, hoped for warmth and a chance to escape from the same view of the same four walls.
In June, the Greek Government asked citizens from the UK to kindly not visit this year which was apparently a signal for the Prime Minister’s father to leap onto a plane and go anyway, while the rest of us dreamed of bougainvillea on sunny white walls, with accompanying lizards, and wept silently.
This summer became the time that taking a train required the same courage – and roughly the same amount of kit – as climbing Mt. Everest, neither activity being advisable or even possible. Those who didn’t have to go to offices were grateful, while those who did worried.
Normal isn’t normal and nearly all escape routes are closed down by quarantine restrictions. July and August hurtled by with unprecedented temperatures (in the UK), forest fires, floods, hurricanes. It seems like the four horsemen of the apocalypse are having a bit of a laugh.
And here we are September 1st.
Mmm. Well on the book front I have made 16 out of 20 books of summer which given the rest of the above isn’t bad and five out of four books for Women in Translation month which has also ended. I can only manage six images as the new block editor makes me want to scream.
But now Summer is fleeing with its remaining unread titles and we are approaching the short and leaf strewn days of Autumn. A season of new books to read. Next up my review of Marilynne Robinson’s Jack the fourth book in her Iowan based series which began with Gilead and Lila about the Ames/Boughton families.