Walking the Line

A grey wet day, the sort of day which has me reciting the lines in the Merchant of Venice-“the quality of Mercy is not strained, It dropeth like the gentle rain from Heaven upon the place beneath…” lines which have no relevance in Putin’s war in Ukraine today.
I braved a walk over to Bruntsfield to meet a socially distanced friend who gave me a jigsaw to while away my attempt at isolating before and after my PCR test on Monday. It feels as though I have been semi isolating for ever, well 2 years and things are still on hold. I don’t think I have ever spent so much time in my own company.

My family gathering on Friday, arranged because Yorkshire daughter was coming to stay the night before going through to Glasgow to meet up with her Uni friends has had to be cancelled. She decided she wasn’t going to risk being the person to give me Covid when she has 2 schoolboys at home

I’m not complaining though because I realise how lucky I am to have such excellent treatment when waiting lists on the NHS are years long.

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