At The Violet Hour
It seems redundant to say today was quiet; it was indeed quiet for me personally, just as every day has been for the past few weeks. Nationally, of course, it is a different matter as the day ends with the Prime Minister being admitted to Intensive Care in London.
My view on this is exactly as it was several days ago when it was announced he had contracted the virus:
I expect a number of prominent people for whom I don’t particularly care will become ill over the next few weeks. I wish them exactly as I hope they would wish me: get well soon.
— Ian Burdon (@Cosmic_Serf) 27 March 2020
I can only judge by what I see online, but the news, even if I expected it when he went to hospital in the first place, seems to have stunned even his many opponents. I’m not so naive as to think we are ushering in a kinder, gentler nation, but perhaps something of the empathy I sense tonight will feed into whatever our society becomes as a consequence of all this.
Thanks for kind comments I received on the short extract of the work in progress I put here last night. Some Van Morrison tonight I think. He might be a grumpy git, but this stands up after fifty years:
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