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Weeks Two and Three



Week two was like week one. We move on. 

I should take a moment to point out that given the planet-wide trauma  we're all varying degrees of seeing, there will be no pissiness about being couped up with an unrequited life to live. For me, it isn't that bad. Just educational. 

And like all education, it is so much better when not forced upon you. I don't mean Siri. Having never availed myself, I had no idea how ****ing useless she is and now I find myself asking her stuff all the time, in the vain hope she might come up with something. But no. She was not able to tell me if I should feel awful rather than gleeful that Chester Bennington cannot m*rder Scott Weiland's songs anymore. She is also not able to tell me if donations to Sinn Fein from, say, my house are tax deductible and she wouldn't know the colour wheel if Vermeer  himself walked her over to it and gave her some personalised tuition. Most disappointingly, she could shed no light on why Season 3 of Sense8 was never commissioned. Oh well, a re-watch it is. 

I have noticed I am better if I Ask Ruby. My darling daughter is every bit as resourceful as her father, and without the irritation that knowing a million things that I don't tends to bring. Not his fault of course but that is the difference between a husband and a child. 

I would also play Ask Lucy if I could ever find her. She has in a very short space of time decided that school is outside hero-worshipping her dad and helping him tend the animals and painting things and other projects and. according to her but very much spoon-fed by a man that might want to build a bigger dog-house before long, "making the most of the new reality."  She is not even nine years old yet and can now drive a car. Or at least steer it. Nobody thought to tell me, other than accidently. 

Given how hard she can be to contain, I thought she would suffer more than any of us. Instead it is her sister that is struggling to cope. We will work through that. 



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