OOOF. Got my second Shingrix shingles vaccine yesterday at a time when I had no appointments, in case it hit me hard, and it has hit me hard. Yesterday was okay, but today, I'm achey and fluey and capable of little. This too shall pass. I went back to bed and watched another episode of Borgen. Which is definitely not a flattering portrait of political life. Luckily, it's not infernally hot today, as it was over the weekend. It's heavy and grey, threatening to rain but not actually coming through.
On Sunday afternoon, I cooked vegetable soup with the one big zucchini from the garden, and Jean-Marc came today to help me eat it. Very healthy and delicious. David Attenborough says the planet is being destroyed by cutting forests for grazing cattle, and we all must cut back on meat. Yes sir. Will do.
I also spent all day Sunday writing an op-ed for the Toronto Star about speeding cars in the city - out of control and dangerous. Worked and reworked from morn till night, got feedback from Ruth and Annie, eagerly sent it in. Nada. Not a word, just as both the Star and the Globe ignored the last essay I sent them. I know this business is about rejection but sometimes it gets depressing. Besides that one, I have four other essays out, and the book with eight publishers.
Nada.
But the Globe did say yes, the garden is beautiful, and Donald Trump is one step nearer accountability.
I've long said Trump is Pandora. He has lifted the lid and enabled human vileness.
PS Just spent half an hour filing a police report about a driver speeding in a black Range Rover, top speed on Spruce St. where there's a school playground, and then the same guy zipped through a stop sign without stopping or even slowing. I followed him and got his licence: CSSN 040. That's why I wrote the essay - because this kind of heedless driving is an epidemic all over the city. I guess not of concern to the Star.
But I can always cheer myself up:
No comments:
Post a Comment