In contrast to yesterday today is bright and sunny. This was not the case when I ventured out at around 8.30. At that time everywhere was covered in fog. Well, not really fog, not a proper peasouper such as I remember from my 1950s childhood. This was more the sort of stuff John Keats wrote about in his Ode to Autumn - “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” and all that sort of thing. We seem to be having the mist but I have my doubts about the “mellow fruitfulness”. The blackberry brambles that seemed to promise a good harvest this year have not come to much. The apple tree that grows in the wooded area between our two millponds has a lot of fruit but the apples are almost all the size of small plums. Very disappointing!
I’ve mentioned the grandchildren’s near-paranoia regarding spiders. Well, Granddaughter Number Two has declared herself seriously impressed by one of her new housemates at university, someone capable of catching large spiders in her bare hands and throwing them outside. This is a skill Granddaughter Number Two needs to work on.
Mid-morning we walked into the village to the local doctors’ surgery to be vaccinated against RSV - respiratory syncytial virus. As I understand it this is supposed to protect us against all kinds or respiratory ailments and the vaccination is free to people our age. The surgery was like a Darby and Joan Club with a growing collection of couples our age turning up together for a free vaccination.
Incidentally, Darby and Joan were real people, John Darby and his wife, the eponymous Joan who were the subject of a poem in the 18th century::
Old Darby, with Joan by his side
You've often regarded with wonder.
That’s just a tiny sample, of course. Even Lord Byron referred to them in a letter to a friend:
“Master William Harness and I have recommenced a most fiery correspondence; I like him as Euripides liked Agatho, or Darby admired Joan, as much for the past as the present.”
The GPs’ surgery we went to, by the way, was refurbished very nicely some time before Covid but, apart from occasionally being used for delivery of vaccines, it has mostly stood empty since then. Consultations have all taken place at the climic in Uppermill. However, Phil has managed to make an appointment at the Delph surgery, albeit in about a month’s time, so maybe change is coming.
Across the ocean, it seems that someone took a pot shot at Donald Trump as he played golf at his Mar a Lago golf course. There is speculation that the shooter mistakenly believed he was somehow supporting Ukraine (how?) while others suggest it was staged to attract sympathy for the Republican candidate. Years ago we used to read Astérix books in which Obélix was often heard to state, “Ils sont fous ces romains!” - There Romans are crazy. Maybe Americans are the new Romans - “Ils sont fous ces américains!”
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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