"Sometimes I sits and thinks, and then again I just sits"
I called myself wilks when I first started blogging. The idea was that it would afford a measure of anonymity. For much the same reason, there was no photo.
Times change, hence the photo, but I decided that even when I changed the blog’s title at the start of 2009, I should remain wilks.
smarts at the comparisons with the outgoing president, who called the UK premier “Britain Trump”
and went on to quote an ally of Johnson saying, “Boris hates the comparisons with Trump. He wants to be a mainstream European leader. When he looks in the mirror, he wants to see Macron, not Trump.”
Johnson may not be Trump although I have always believed it takes one to know one – however delusional Trump may be, and he is, there is no doubt that he sees Johnson as a sort of Trumpian Mini-Me. And Johnson, however much he wishes it, is certainly no Macron.
The mirror never lies.
And for a rather less kind but sadly just as accurate comparison of Johnson and Trump, read Martin Fletcher in the New Statesman, Why Boris Johnson is dangerously close to Trump. And one thing Fletcher omits is that both take a great deal of time over their hair . . . perhaps that’s the mirror thing.
The experience of lockdown is different for everyone. I feel hugely lucky to be here (Devon), untroubled by concerns over ‘staying local’ for exercise. The side door leads through the churchyard into open country.
And working from home is something I have been doing for almost a decade – but before the pandemic this was something I chose to do. It is not quite the same when there is no alternative. Above all, I miss London and I miss friends.
The world will not return to normal, instead the pandemic will yield. There is a difference. Friendships will not simply revert to what rather once they were: but that need not be a bad thing. I find it easy to live to a schedule: what I am doing and who I am seeing next rising to meet me before the previous event is over. When it safe and possible, I will want to see my friends. But when I do, I will try to appreciate the moments as they happen, fortified by the memory that for a time they couldn’t.
Jess Cartner-Morley’s suggestion in the Guardian Weekend that we should dress happy was probably not, if the clothes that accompanied the article are anything to go by, aimed at me, but I certainly embrace it.
So the arrival last week of socks from Yinka Ilori was a real cause for celebration. If you want a pair, or three, visit Yinka Ilori Studio. They are fab!
Walking down the road towards Uppacott. Chagford in the middle distance and on the skyline snow dusting Steeperton and Oke Tors, and to the far right High Willhays and Yes Tor.
And walking the long hill home from Uppacott, long tailed tits in the hedgerow, bumbling along with us, chattering to each other, and early honeysuckle breaking leaf. Spring isn’t quite here but it isn’t far off.