Many happies, Auriga
I was so upset this morning & DH took me out to lunch to cheer me up - somewhat spoilt by the fact that the table next to us were full of joy that the vote had gone 'their way'.
I wished I was their waiter so I could have spat on their food.
Had a very soothing chat with DS (who has lived in France for the last 10 years) & whilst he was appalled by the result, did say that his generation (he's 35) have been blessed & have not had to fight wars, live through the cold war etc etc. He was very sanguine by this evening (unlike our texts at 6.30am today).
I am actually feeling better resigned. I still have a roof over my head, clean water to drink & enough to eat............ and whilst that may sound a bit crass I know I have to get on with this.
BUT the idea of BJ as PM fills me with horror - I honestly think he is nastier than Thatcher.
And I never thought I'd utter that last sentence.
I hope you all sleep well - if you will excuse me for some slight sentimentality I'd like to leave you with a poem:
Louis MacNeice
Autumn Journal
[Part XXIV]
Sleep serene, avoid the backward
Glance; go forward, dreams, and do not halt
(Behind you in the desert stands a token
Of doubt — a pillar of salt).
Sleep, the past, and wake, the future,
And walk out promptly through the open door;
But you, my coward doubts, may go on sleeping,
You need not wake again — not any more.
The New Year comes with bombs, it is too late
To dose the dead with honourable intentions:
If you have honour to spare, employ it on the living;
The dead are dead as Nineteen-Thirty-Eight.
Sleep to the noise of running water
To-morrow to be crossed, however deep;
This is no river of the dead or Lethe,
To-night we sleep
On the banks of Rubicon — the die is cast;
There will be time to audit
The accounts later, there will be sunlight later
And the equation will come out at last.