So here we are, back in the fray; it's Election time again. General Election time at that! The country is in a mess, financially we are - well, let's just say that we have seen better days, but I live, cockeyed optimist that I am, in hopes that we will see better days again. Hopefully more rational days when house building and bling overspending are only a nightmare memory from the past.
This has been the most tense campaign so far. The country is deeply divided on who to vote for, and former staunch supporters of the governing party are threatening to leave the party altogether or vote for the main opposition. That is, for many of them, like killing your mother. The would be contenders have, so far, left me stone cold and I am seriously underwhelmed. What does get my goat though is the media.
We are an intelligent nation here, well able to make up our own mind on what we want and what we don't want. I would love to watch one t.v., programme with all the contending party leaders allowed time to finish their points - so that I can get to make up my own mind and not have it made up for me. As OH says, no chance of that happening anytime soon. Far too independent by nature.
We had a candidate on the doorstep yesterday afternoon, in the rain, and he found us, buried away at the back of Godspeed as we are. God love him, I really felt so sorry for him. A mere child in his early twenties, he earnestly encouraged me to vote for his candidate, I pointed out that he was the candidate; he thanked me. Exhausted, wet and knowing that he is such a small fish that his chances of getting more than 40 votes are slim. I have decided to vote for him. He won't get a 1 or a 2, but sure doesn't he merit a mark for finding us.
Our extension is completed, since Christmas, and I was able to cook the Christmas turkey in my new range. This was the best Christmas we have had in years. The snow fell, the whole family was gathered together under one roof; not going anywhere fast in the whitened world outside, and it was cosy cheer from the 25th of December until the 3rd of January. By that stage the snow was getting tedious, life had to go on. There was a major task of painting the new rooms and, by that time, I was sick to the teeth of the white emulsion on the kitchen. The undercoat for the yellow sun haze that was to come after.
January dragged on, and on, and on, and on and...The Flu Virus struck OH and I. He got the milder form, I got the full whack and a relapse to boot. The computer started to act up and getting a signal became a luxury not a right. Talk about feeling cut off...however, I spent the time reading all those books that I haven't had a chance to get to. Going through all my Miss Marple dvd's with Margaret Rutherford, Joan Hickson and Geraldine McEwan all giving their versions. I'm a dedicated Hickson fan for authenticity, Rutherford for the comedy and McEwan for the two mixed together.
February has slinged by, wet, grumpy and better forgotten. Today, as I took out the laundry to the line, an exciting experience as rain has stopped that for aided by the relapse; I listened to the blackbirds at dusk giving the warning call, the robins scooting from tree to tree singing their beautiful song and thought that March is just around the corner. The primula in their pots outside the front door are rich and jewel coloured and the daffodils and narcissi and irises are all late but the more welcome for that. There are more snowdrops than last year and our resident hedgehog has appeared out of hiberanation. Maybe he's running as a candidate in the hedgerow elections.
Spring is spritely on its way.