Muggy grey St Swithin’s Day

Today has been something of a write off. There were lots of things I was supposed to be doing and I either rescheduled them or just plain didn’t do them at all. I think it’s partly to do with the state of the world and partly to do with the state of me. It’s just so hard to stay positive at the moment. I didn’t manage. I’m going to run myself a hot bath and then just call it a day. Sometimes you just have to flush one away.

It’s St Swithin’s day. Folklore has it that the old Bishop of Winchester asked to be buried outside where the rain could wet his grave. He was moved inside after a bit and there was a terrible storm. Nowadays it’s popularly held that whatever the weather is like on his day – St Swithin’s Day – it’ll be like that for the next 40 days. There’s little doubt that this is a Christianisation of an older tale for that date. But likely there’s something in it, as there often is with old wives tales. So maybe 40 days of muggy mizzly pizzly greyish ick.

Not that there’s much actual science in folkloric stuff like that. It might turn out lovely and I’d be glad to be wrong. The weather tends to shift around midsummer anyway. But I like to get stuck into the stories.

Not only has the weather been grey and nasty in in this angry frightened world, but there’s even been all sorts of strange and unsettling news coming from the lives and behaviours of friends. Add to that Six the Musical’s drive in tour has been cancelled which is upsetting when it felt like a ray of hope for some sort of pick up in the industry. There are the usual videos of various world leaders being oafish or ignorant, the handcart is rolling ever closer to whatever madness actual Brexit brings. Loads of men are shouting at each other in Battersea Park over the river right now. Oh boy, It still feels pretty weird in muggy London.

One of the people I like to listen to for interesting astrological snippets said today from his point of view that we should say to ourselves this week: “It is extremely important that I not become rigidly fixed, as a broader truth may reveal itself that my hard heart and closed mind misses.” He’s taking about how there’s more to come in terms of all this civil unrest, and I agree with him about the importance of wide angle thinking and balance. There’s a tendency to dig in and entrench augmented by the strange echo chambers that we can so easily find ourselves fed into by our smart devices. Let’s be kinder than we have to be.

I’ve had my bath now. The men are still shouting at each other in the park. I’m going to ring a friend who has had some weird news and listen for a while, but then I’m pretty happy to cross today off the board, go see if my dreams are more bearable, and bounce back on the morrow.

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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