I can post nice pictures of West Dorset. This is either torture, irresponsible encouraging folk to come here when we have no capacity locally in the NHS to deal with COVID – my Mum needed 999 on Easter Sunday and crew told us ‘If we take her you will not see her again…’ The NHS here is closed to people like my Mum so if you don’t live here – STAY HOME – she survived.
I can write about what we are doing here on the Holding. And believe me with Gordon home for the longest time ever short of tech glitch re lorry or knee opp a lot is getting done that I doubt would ever have gotten done – and we still had the stuff in piles to get on with it… And I have been digging the veg plot – we are both unfit so two bad backs and me with carpel tunnel issues.
I can get Journalistic and argue the toss about anything you like from Vegan Terrorism, Anti Hunt Terrorists, Climate Change, Idiot Second Home Owners, The NHS in Dorset, The Government, BREXIT, Food Supply, The plight of Farmers on the end of the Food Conga, The Work Force lay offs – the horse sector particular issues as I see them . The people stuck at home and those poor souls who get COVID and their families and the tragedies and terror of not seeing loved ones in Nursing and Care Homes -or about the care Workers who come here every day to see my Mum – or you can tune into the news and get a less singular approach to the nightmare we are all living in.
I can just wax on as if this is escapist chocoholic ( I wrote ‘beaucholic’ but the spell checker changed it) tosh.
Or I can write about what it feels like to live through this here on the side of the A35 with no traffic – and it isn’t wonderful as you might think – it’s creepy and a constant reminder of National Pain and Suffering.
I decided to just post pictures as I have escaped into fiction writing – it is safer there.
