Merry Covid-mas from The New Recluse

Regular readers may have spotted something: I have become a recluse, and for Christmas, a Covid-y recluse.

I finally caught Covid after 3 years. It was flu-like, despite 4 jabs, and I'm getting through it. 

More generally though - I'm not afraid to say it - I'm now an extrovert turned introvert. Shocker, I know. 

I think it's my new strategy to try and cope with life. A voice on the radio today, described watching the news as, 'An exercise in fighting daily despair.' Yes. I'm there. 

I feel I have a duty to keep myself informed, yet watching the news is the opposite of hope. 

Ages ago, I wrote a jokey post about feeling like a criminal when I had to throw plastic in the bin. Today, I'm still in slow-shock about world pollution- microplastics course through our blood stream -and no one is stopping it. 

Even the cosy, log fires of Christmas are a danger to health, throwing out 750 times more particulate pollutant than an HGV lorry. 

Burning wood, huh? No one is keeping the earth below 1.5 degrees of warming. 'The scientists are trying (desperately) and the climate-deniers don't believe there is a problem. Mind-blowing.

The film, Don't Look Up said it all. I do recommend watching.

I try to do what I can, signing petitions, writing to politicians, buying less or buying 'greener.' Buying 'greener'? Just the one oxymoron please!

Maybe I can find ways to be more of an eco-helper in 2023.

My number one priority and vocation is still caring for the kids. There's always something they need help with: ribbons sewn on a dance costume or a deal on a second-hand iPhone. Doh!

Float Forward Willingly. 

That's a mantra from the late great Dr Claire Weekes. She made it her life's work to try and help others with stress and distress. I say it to myself when I have to.

 Rudolf and me can help you with any floating?

This Christmas, I have a few dear friends and relatives with health struggles. I'm thinking of them, willing strength and healing. A less-polluted world would go a long way.

So, that's my apologist blog post, until next time. If you're looking for me, I'm still here. I'm just a bit camouflaged, hiding in the trees, not knowing what to say. Of course, I'm looking up, even if it hurts my neck. Float forward willingly, if you can folks. 

And if you need more - here's a poem I wish I'd written. It's called Good Bones by Maggie Smith.