I had a smidgen of quality time with K last night - we met up for drinks after I'd finished work, the company and conversation being much nicer than I probably deserve - before she heads off again at lunchtime today. The aftermath of the stupidity of the electorate was a major topic for discussion, of course, as the country continues to descend into chaos, with both main political parties seemingly on the verge of implosion and the currency still falling like a stone. And, most worryingly, stories of a massive increase in overt racism and xenophobia, as a substantial cadre of the 'white British' population appear to have taken the referendum result as carte blanche to do and say whatever they like. I can only hope that no-one is killed as a result, because the veneer of civilisation in the UK seems to be thin to the point of invisibility at the moment.
K got back from her Canarian adventure at 4:30 this morning, slightly singed around the edges, but otherwise safe and well. Our reunion will be decidedly brief, though - she's asleep, naturally enough, at the moment, I'm working another late shift this afternoon, and then she's off again in the morning to spend the rest of the week with her boyfriend and his family 'up north'. Get used to it, I guess, given that it's only a matter of weeks before she'll be away at uni, leaving me to 'enjoy' the single life again. I can hardly wait.
On the back of a tide of toxic nationalism, racism and xenophobia, the great and wise British - or, more accurately, given the voting figures, English - electorate has decided to leave the EU. Cameron has announced his resignation, the stock market and Sterling are in free fall, far-right parties all over Europe are calling for referendums of their own, Scottish independence looks inevitable, as, possibly, does a return to violence in Ireland. So England, my country for good or ill, will be 'independent', as the vile Farage gleefully crowed - yes, independent as a third-world backwater ruled by fascists, fuckwits and bigots like Johnson, Gove and Farage - will your German wife be deported, Nigel? - with a destroyed economy and no human rights (although Cameron wanted to tear up the ECHR as far as this country was concerned, too). And, no doubt, a heavily intensified tendency to look for scapegoats. No time to be non-white, non-English, gay - or a 'paedo'. I think renewing my passport and looking at flight schedules might be in order.
Isn't a boy anymore. I thought I'd seen him a few weeks back, but I wasn't sure if it actually was him or not. Today's encounter left no doubt, though. And there was equally little doubt that in the eighteen months or so since I last saw him, puberty has got hold of him, big style. He's got a moustache, albeit one of the insubstantial type youths of his age and a little older often sport. Another reminder, if any were needed, of the most fundamental issue boylovers face - transience. If DBJ walked through the door of this pub right now, the dissonance between my memories of him and the grown-up reality would probably reduce me to a pile of lachrymose mush, but any such reaction would, of course, change nothing. Boys grow up, inexorably. Luckily, their little brothers do, too!
A rather significant couple of days for K - she took her last A-Level yesterday, and while she's officially on the register until the end of term next month, that effectively marked her last day as a schoolgirl, given that she doesn't have to go in this half term except for exams. And today, she's gone off on what might be described as her first 'adult' holiday - she had her American adventure two years ago, but that involved staying with the families of people she already knew, while this trip is just her and her best friend from school off to the Canary Islands sunshine and staying in a hotel. Two 'growing-up' milestones, without a doubt.