The Seduction of Sunshine

Oh, the spectacular seduction of the weather! The thrill of Spanish temperatures in Scotland.  Local barbecues waft charcoal, with a hint of jet engines touching down on a hot, foreign runway. The town bakes in inadvertent glamour.   

It's almost tempting to think nothing could ever go wrong. Like Trump deluding himself that sunshine 'inside the body' could be the cure. Wheesht. Madness of course, but it's as if the sunshine is eclipsing us from our dark Covid thoughts. 

I have to say, I am so glad I live in Scotland. I think Nicola Sturgeon and 'Scotgov' are handling the crisis so much better than the Westminster shambles. And by shambles, I mean criminally-negligent, deluded madness. 

Our Scottish lockdown-easing is super cautious: meeting fewer than 8 friends or family outdoors. We are not sending people back to work, or kids back to school, as is the case in England. All that fills me with a deep sense of dread. A second wave will surely follow.

England now has officially the highest death rate in the world.  
World-beating. Utterly tragic. Thousands of avoidable deaths. If only the UK had taken the Covid threat seriously and gone all-out to contain it from those first few clusters of cases. 

But you know that. At least I hope you do. 

Meanwhile, 'daughter-ito',  a.k.a. wee Tess,  is somewhat better, but her cough still won't let her exercise. At all! And the cough is triggered by car fumes, frying food, dust, pollen etc. We are still waiting for our ENT referral to come through.

Operation Find an Adorable Dog to Soothe her Heart is also limping along, due to the pandemic. I had no idea there were so many puppy crooks out there online. I can now sniff them out like a sniffer dog in a crack den.  No matter how cute, I am not going to buy a puppy that's been dragged in a van from a puppy farm. 

I will keep checking the doggy rescue sites for wee faces like this. 

Enjoy the warm air while it is here. I found an old photo of my siblings and I, two decades ago in Menorca. We look like some kind of failed pop group. Bucks Fizz? Rejected from The Corr's auditions? 

Self-deprecation is a standard in our family. I hope I'll get away with this.

Lastly, I asked Tess if she wanted a grapefruit for breakfast.

She replied with measured sincerity -

Why would I want a lemon-flavoured orange?

From now on, I will always think of grapefruits as lemon-flavoured oranges. Home-schooling works both ways. 

Until next time, amigos, slap on the sun screen. Or, as Tess still mistakenly calls it, the 'sun scream'. You can have either version, mood depending.