Her Majesty

I haven’t switched on the telly for a few days but I was on the phone to a friend and she told me we were about to get Her Majesty with an official announcement. Worth a punt in these unusual times.


She looks well which is good considering she’s older than God. She was consciously channeling Vera Lynn with her “We’ll meet again” stuff. Good to hear her still at work. She’s a force to be reckoned with that woman. Active shout out to the emergency services and a reminder to stay indoors. Who knows how it will pan out in terms of numbers in this country. If we prevent it then we will never know what we prevented. That’s the thing with prevention.

On the phone to my bro Rupert I said how everybody in London was walking around outside my flat, on the riverside. To illustrate it I went to the window and did a spot count. 25 people visible from the window in that moment. That never happens. Slouching along in their running gear, sitting drinking beer on the benches, strolling in pairs or in threes, some big groups, some solo. Mostly no mask but I get that they’re hard to come by. Who knows how much good they do anyway. Specific information about this outbreak is not too easy to find as it’s thoroughly swamped with disinformation. It’s probably the Russians again, taking the opportunity to further fuck with us, because why else would there be such an incredible mine of misleading science on social media? In our isolation we can’t even bounce information and sources so we all just go with the most compelling thing we’ve read. Which alternates between the voices telling us it’s bollocks and the voices telling us we are murderers if we open the window.

I appreciated seeing HRH in her natty green top sounding like she really does miss her friends. So do I. I did a WhatsApp hug with Minnie this evening and it was more comforting than it should have been. Her daughter has named my owl though. You’ve likely seen photographs of it. The hot water owl that has the privilege of me sprawling on top of it through the long hours is apparently called Ernestina. It’s a girl. So there we go. A three year old can still teach us things.

The telly going on for the Queen has started a chain reaction. I’ve kept it off for the last week entirely, but now it’s on I’m using it. I’m catching up with “Better Call Saul”. I won’t get through the lot, but I’m glad of it. The Breaking Bad guys, now with money and credibility, going towards long takes and thoughtful scenes with smart actors. Unlike a lot of the other stuff you can find, and a good watch for someone like me who would usually rather be reading a book.

It’s half ten. The bath is running but it takes 45 minutes. I’ll get through one more episode and then turn in. Look after each other. Stay well.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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