This is the third blog entry I’ve started today. I hardly ever do that. I usually write, the words come – and then the idea comes – and they’ll do. Steinbeck of course, well he can sleep easy in his eternity. But for me they’ll do.
This time, this time though, the words are waiting words. The air feels dense with anticipation. Are we all hoping that incoming US President Biden won’t be killed tomorrow at his own inauguration – from a member of his National Guard? Or am I reading the news and getting sucked in too deep? Meanwhile, President Trump the grumpy slump, is like a boulder clinging to the White House floor. There’s thorny change coming to the US.
It was Blue Monday yesterday too. Not sure if this is just in the UK. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Blue Monday is the traditional ‘lowest’ day of the year. The third Monday of January; people are freshly broke after Xmas. Not a lot of daylight either – and Spring is still too far away. Wait. I’m not there. So why does this date make me feel homesick? Doofus.
Pip Hare the solo sailor meanwhile, she’s just survived a nasty storm on her way sailing northwards through the South Atlantic. Pip and her IMOCA racing vessel, Medallia, are climbing back up, bound for the Vendée Globe’s finish line in France. I know too she is awesome when she can impress my mother. My mother is not so easily impressed. I dare say, especially not by other women. I know this, by the way. I’ve lived it. I’ve felt Gru’s pain in Despicable Me. ‘I designed a spaceship, Ma. A way of stealing the moon.’
Still, it could be her generation. I’ll never know for sure.
But even Pip Hare has won my mum over. Pip is battling the elements right now in Medallia – and tackling it with refreshing, moon rock honesty. You can’t read her, watch her and not love this lady. Dare you. All the while, Pip says she’s always wanted to know how far she can push herself. Hold on now.
Hold on likewise to incoming United States President Biden. The global community needs you. God knows, we’re being squeezed.