The allergy that hit me yesterday seems to have gone, though it has left me tired today. I took myself out again this morning, though, as far as a supermarket to buy some ink for our printer. That was a mistake: I baulked at the price and will buy it online. I did pick up two essentials, though: the latest Private Eye and a bottle of hand sanitiser. Even though the initial shortages are over, I have been buying occasional bottle to put in the cupboard because, while tentative steps towards opening things up are being taken, the virus has not gone away and I see no reason not to anticipate the worst, even as I hope it won’t happen.

On the way home, I spotted what I thought was a baby rabbit in bushes at the edge of a carpark by our local McDonald’s; it was a rat. Large, sleek, and unconcerned by my presence. It sauntered away under a bush and another one followed it. I daresay they’ve been there a while, but I don’t remember seeing them before.

Damn Yankees

I sat out again from lunchtime through a lot of the afternoon. It was cloudy and breezy, but also warm when the sun came out from behind the clouds. As well as Private Eye, I was getting further stuck in to Pynchon’s Against The Day which I’m thoroughly enjoying. Previous attempts have felt like a slog, but thus far the reading is easy.

I looked up and noticed another jet trail and this time had the presence of mind to check Flight Tracker to find it was the USAF. A quick google of the registration number tells me it was this aircraft. The trail didn’t linger for very long last time, but it was still unwelcome.Of course, there is a contradiction between moaning about flights overhead and pining for trips to Portugal, but I can hold both feelings simultaneously.

Also, sitting outside in the sunshine can lead one into a Zen state that the uncharitable might mistake for snoozing…

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Music: I haven’t put any jazz here for a while; here to remedy that is Randy Weston from 1958.