Friday 9th December 2022

I am Chicken Little.

My three colleagues are also Chicken Little.

We have been screaming for 22 months that the sky was falling.

We were wrong, we were told.

Don't you think people who know about such things would have made sure, we were asked.

No, we replied.

Yesterday, the sky fell.

And next week more sky will fall too.

And we are supposed to leap into a phonebox and change into Superauditors. Like we can change things.

So it goes, so it goes.

Anyway.

Friday.

It is winter. Twelve days from the shortest day, and it is cold. Not really, Canadian style cold. But cold enough. We might even get snow on Sunday. For now we have frosts. Hoar frosts.

We lay in bed until past six, then got up, got dressed and made coffee, fed the cats and checked on the world.

Its still fucked.

But there you go.

Jools left for work, I put the bins out, filled the bird feeders, as the local robin now sits on the fence outside the window looking at me with its cocked head until I put sunflower hearts out.

That done, I start work, fill out my working hours, and check on my calendar.

Not much.

I check mails. And that's when I find that the sky fell this week. News of the falling took some days to reach my inbox from Germany, but there you go. The sky did fall, and now help is needed to fix it.

I read the report of the sky falling. It details every part of the sky falling and reasons for it that I have been shouting about for 22 months.

I send it on to my boss, and arrange a meeting for Monday where we will discuss how the now broken sky will be fixed.

I have meetings.

I finish work at one as we have to go back to Deal to get our 4th COVID vaccine jab.

So, once she came back home, we went out and drove into town, parking behind the High Street.

A quick walk to the chemists, and a five minute wait.

"Lift up your jumper"

And jab, jab, jab, jab.

It was done.

Nothing else.

I mean 18 months agao when I had the first one I cried when I got out to the car, that an end to the pandemic could now be seen.

Now it is something like a flu shot.

Maybe more serious, as numbers are building again.

We walk to No Name Shop to buy some stinky French cheese. I bought four different one, two wrapped in chestnut leaves, and both mouldy beneath, but would be wonderfully strong when we had them later. I also bought their last crusty loaf and two pain au rasin, and that was that.

Back home for a bew and the pains.

Before Jools left for a hair cut and I settled down to watch the footy: Brazil v Croatia.

And a very good game, Brazil were great, flamoyant, and took the lead in extra time. Fans danced in the stands, smiled. Laughed. And danced some more.

And then Croatia scored an equaliser.

Colur drained from the Brazil players faces, and those of their fans.

Penalties.

Brazil were not up to it, missed their first and last, to go out 3-2. Players lay on the pitch and cried.

Football, eh.

We have cheese and wine.

And then time for the evening game: Netherlands v Argentina.

Another great game, with Netherland pulling back twice to draw 2-2.

So, more penalties.

Holland never looked like they believed they would win. So, they didn't.

Ten, and time for bed.