The news at the moment is utterly depressing. If it’s not Covid related it’s about the political chaos in the US. It started me thinking about what would be the best job to have at this time.
After deep, meaningful consideration, occupying at least a minute, I concluded I should be a crewman aboard a nuclear submarine.
These subs go off on their secret missions, which last for around three months at a time. I reckoned that if I left port today, and returned at the end of March, most people will have been vaccinated (maybe), Trump will be gone (maybe) and the winter will be over(ish) – result!
There is a downside to the cunning plan though. I’d be cooped up in a narrow metal tube, a mile beneath the sea, with God knows how many others; there wouldn’t be much in the way of fresh air, and if the chef wasn’t up to scratch I wouldn’t even have dinner to look forward to. Best laid plans and all that….
At the time of writing we are still on a knife edge here on the
Island. The number of Covid cases is ticking up and the battle is on to prevent community spread. Our three-week lockdown, which a few days ago looked like it might be reduced, now seems more likely to be extended. We can only hope that our hard-working contact tracers succeed in tracking the path of the spread. It’s an onerous task akin to dropping a box of beads and trying to follow the path of each and every one.
As with the first Covid outbreak last Spring the remedy is to some extent in our own hands; if we follow the rules on lockdown, personal space and hygiene we can stop the virus in its tracks. Given that there’s no other real option it’s a bit of a no brainer.
January is a pretty depressing month at the best of times – then it hands over to equally miserable February. The only tiny advantage it has over its predecessor is that it’s a bit shorter. There are some bright spots to lift the spirits though. I’ve spotted snowdrops and daffodils poking through in the garden, and the days are starting to stretch a bit. Personally, if I was a snowdrop I’d pop back underground for a few more weeks, but each to their own.
If there’s a creative positive to the horrendous coronavirus pandemic, and the turmoil in the US it’s been a surge in black humour. Much of it can be found online. I saw a nice one the other day about Trump. It read:
‘Let me get this straight – the person with the nuclear codes has been deemed too dangerous to have a Twitter account?
Another – for which I’m indebted to my friend Ralph, read:
‘I’d like to cancel my subscription to 2021. I’ve experienced the free 7-day trial and I’m not interested.
There are many more to help keep the spirits up. In the meantime I’ll crack on with a bit of work, before I climb into six layers of clothing, put on thick gloves and head out for my permitted daily exercise. Then it’s down to the Co-op to join the queue for a carton of milk, ahead of today’s media briefing.
I think I might cancel my subscription too.