This evening I accompanied Mirinda on the constitutional for the first time in ages. It’s because I’ve been resting my foot. The one with the gouty extra big toe that has suffered through wearing non-forgiving boots. Now that the snow has all but gone and there’s no risk of slipping on anything, I’ve reverted to my old, soft, almost worn out, New Balance runners.
And it was a lovely evening with a full moon starting to peep over the rocks, between the trees, as the day came to an end. It’s a far cry from when we first started walking around the block in the pitch. It’s also a good deal warmer.
In fact, the day had been glorious from start to finish. Blue sky, no clouds, pleasant temperature. Actually, the temperature is a worry. Yesterday, I spotted this Tweet from Greta Thunberg.
Quite apart from the devastation, I really miss the snow and the cold.
An unexpected result of the melting snow is what’s left behind. Dog poo is everywhere, preserved by the cold, little bits of odd litter and, of course, the new cigarette butts.
I spotted this near the underpass at Trollbäcken Centrum, though they’re everywhere these days. Given there is an expectation that someone else will have to pick it up and dispose of it, the original wearer clearly doesn’t care about the health of other people, as is the declaration of so many mask wearers.
Speaking of masks, I felt there were more on the bus today but fewer in the supermarket. Not that either place was even close to being crowded. I went to Hemköp this week, for a change, and it was delightfully almost empty.
Back at home, Mirinda had meeting after meeting while I switched between housework and Dead Soldier Research. Today, I discovered a poor chap who survived the war only to stumble into a chalk pit near Epsom and die from the fall.
Having failed to find any sea bass on Wednesday, I made arctic char on Mediterranean vegetables for dinner tonight. It was delicious.