It seems increasingly unlikely that Brexit will happen. Can’t say I care much one way or the other.
I am more interested in jazz, in motor cycles, in cutting my hedges, in the weather over the next few weeks, in the musings of my old spaniel, in motor cycles, in drinking coffee and chatting aimlessly with pleasant strangers (few and far between; ‘pleasant’ ones, that is) who make no demands, in the house’s saggy floors and damp walls, in riding my motor cycle, in… well… just about anything, really. But mainly connected with motor cycles.
I haven’t enough time left on this earth to get excited about political incompetences. It’s not possible to do all these things – to play the saxophone and the clarinet and the whistle, do the gardening, go to auctions, drive around the area on domestic duties, ride my VStrom 650 hither and yon, visit family members, watch the films I feel the need to watch, read all the books I feel I need to read, listen to all that music out there, take an interest in the yakking of folk who think they are important, walk the beaches, go sailing, visit my ever declining number of friends, clip my hairy spaniel, send texts and emails and write blogs…or, indeed, write anything. And to see everything this polluted, over-populated planet has to offer a misanthrope.
Life is very very short and I’m getting increasingly weary of it. Except for all of the above.