Wading through volunteer jobs I promised to do that now have to be done on weekends instead of during my lazy (ha!) weekdays of yestermonth.
A silly realisation yesterday that I was very chuffed about: connecting the phrase “à tes souhaits” (to your wishes, which is what the French say when someone sneezes) to the word ‘atishoo’ (which is what the phrase sounds like when mangled by an anglo-saxon kid making up a nursery rhyme about the Black Death in the sixteenth century…)
And reading that Lyle Stuart died. The ‘me’ that I was in my early 20s would be quite affected by that, the death of this passionate resister, rogue publisher whose books we secretly (and illegally, if I remember correctly) stocked at a certain anarchist bookshop in Sydney. Now, having mellowed somewhat in my middle age, I don’t think he was a heroic defender of free speech and I sometimes question whether hate speech should be a form of protected speech at all. I don’t think bombs are ever a solution – let’s be clear, I never did – although I’m still okay with the occasional sabot thrown into machinery. Ah, it was all so much easier when I was young and knew everything.