A red-letter day

 One of the worst aspects of having a stroke, for me, is aphasia. Since that fateful day in October 2017, I've struggled with communication issues, most notably my speech and, in particular, writing. My original hope was to retire after forty years with my company, which would've fallen in 2019, and I had a daydream of writing a novel thereafter, but the health fates weren't with me. I was, at least, able to read fluently, so I've spent a lot of time reading other people's words, but coming up with new material of my own has been largely a case of (literal) headaches and almost infinite frustration. But, around six weeks ago, something clicked. I had a new story in my head, and found that I could progress, to the extent of writing almost every day since then, leading to today, when I published Cousinage in my fiction blog (the link is in the side bar, it anyone cares to have a look). It's not a novel, but is 44000 words long, near enough, and the thought that I could achieve that much in the time available is a minor miracle, as far as I'm concerned. Quantity is one thing, but I'm not making any claim regarding quality, although I'm pleased enough with it to go ahead with publication. Its existence is the key for me, rather than any expectation of approbation. It might be a one-off, but there is some hope that I'll able to add to my oeuvre, however amateurish, in the future.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Blood on their hands

Sooner rather than later, I fear. The American electorate has written the death warrants of so many women, non-white people, LGBTQ+ people, Ukrainians, Palestinians, the poor and/or dispossessed, and more. And it gets worse, at least potentially - if (when?)Trump dies/comes incapacitated, the proverbial 'heartbeat away from the presidency' adage would fall to Vance, who is an outright theocratic fascist. As ever, the main problem of democracy is that any moron can vote. Well, America, you've made your bed, now lie in it. 

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

A very sad day for the whole world

I woke up to the biggest news item in years this morning, but it was a desperately disappointing result. A golden opportunity to rid the world of one of the most dangerous and toxic people in living memory, wasted. So depressing.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Compare and contrast

It's a nice day today, weather-wise, so far (yes, we do get user-friendly days here, even in this predominantly grey and damp part of the world), and I was, rather vacantly, looking out of my sitting room window earlier on. My attention was drawn to one of the local cats, an animal I've seen regularly ever since I moved here. The cat was doing what domestic cats do best in similar situations, luxuriating in a patch of warm sunshine, before languorously washing itself. What a life, I couldn't but help reflecting, all wants and needs requited, food, shelter, affection, comfort. As opposed to my lifestyle, yes, I have got food and shelter, but apart from that, my circumstances aren't that great - no friends or acquaintances, apart from my daughter, who lives 250-odd miles away, indifferent health, even on a good day, a bad knee that makes even walking upstairs to the bathroom painful, and the coup de grace, my aphasia after my stroke, which hampers me so frustratingly in terms of speaking and writing, robbing me of what was one of my few strengths. I know this post probably sounds like self-pity, and maybe it is, but quality of life is a worthwhile aspiration, an aspiration I'm sorely lacking at the moment.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

A bigot's charter

The current iteration of the Conservative Party has been a race to the bottom for years now, most notably during Boris Johnson's tenure, but with a General Election looming in a few months time, there's space for plenty of barrel scraping, seemingly. The next target is school sex education, from what I've been seeing today, the subject will be gutted, particularly in primary schools, but older pupils won't be immune, either - all 'children' are going to be banned from being taught about gender identity. It's not a 'Don't Say Gay' scenario - yet - but it's a patent grab for the Tories in terms of winning the bigot vote, the right wingnuts, especially the religious right, will love it. And if some young people get killed, by their own hands, or through bullying or even outright murder, well sobeit. Frankly, that wouldn't be a bug, but a feature for those scumbags. 

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

An utter surprise

For some reason, my largely moribund blog has been 'flavour of the week' - there have been more than 3000 views in the last four or five days. I'm sure it's just web crawlers crawling, but it has helped to push the blog, after 13-odd years, beyond 100000 views overall. Thank you for reading - even the crawlers!

Love & best wishes to all 

Sammy B

Risk and reward

Before last weekend, the BBC Weather website was promising us snow, albeit light snow, and freezing temperatures for today and tomorrow, so I stocked up with groceries on Friday with a view to staying at home until at least Wednesday - I hate snow and ice these days, given my somewhat fragile health, and my propensity to fall on my backside as soon as slippery conditions prevail. But this morning, the snow has been conspicuous by its absence, and it's been largely sunny so far, although it's pretty cold (by UK standards). So I've spent a good hour trying to decide whether to go out, without much success. I almost never see anyone when I stay here at the flat, and I do like to feel that I'm part of the human race occasionally, but, overall, I would only go to the pub, so the balance of probability is that I'll stick to Plan A and skulk in my man cave instead - isolation is preferable to breaking my neck, ultimately.

There's a longer term conundrum in my life, as well, although the potential risk in this case will almost certainly prevent me from being tempted with the slight chance of what would be a substantial reward - there's a new(-ish) family living in the building where my flat is, and there's a passably cute boy in the scenario. I don't see him very often, despite the fact that he lives about 30 feet away from me - they're on the ground floor, while I'm four flights of stairs above - but he has given me a smile and wave a couple of times, and we have had a very brief chat, just once. I can't lie, the prospect of having a 'young friend' would be beyond awesome, even if we didn't do anything other than talk, but the pitfalls seem unsurmountable - he's pretty young, even by the standards of my 'reviled by society's' AoA, and his English seems to be rather minimal (I'm fairly sure that the family is Eastern European, although what exact nationality, I don't know). So it's really little more than a daydream, in all honesty. But what if....?

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B