The Beginning of the End

The beginning of the end of the cherry blossom for another year. It is slightly later this year, although it’s at the same stage as it was in 1977 when I had a bed on a balcony in The Simpson Maternity Pavilion overlooking the cherry trees resplendent in pink in the Meadows, having just given birth to D77.
It crossed my mind then that no private hospital could beat the view I had from the local NHS one.
It no longer exists having been demolished to make way for building some of Quartermile. It wasn’t a listed building but a fairly modern one and latterly held together with steel bands.

I met a friend for coffee this morning whom I hadn’t seen since last year. We both agreed that the time scale of covid was confusing. I think this may have something to do with two lockdowns making everything seem longer. She was ill at the beginning of 2020 before Covid was talked about and it wasn’t until she developed long covid symptoms that the doctors told her that she had probably had the disease. She is recovered now but her long covid illness was worse than the initial infection.

It’s been a day off sunshine and showers and I have been lucky to escape a wetting on any of my outdoor activities.