Sounds from the Back Bedroom

It was after all an inevitability.

This weeks missive follows hot on the heels of last week’s concerns about the free for all of the return to school this September. Eagle-eyed amongst will note that the shed is no longer the centre of my universe – oh no, I am currently confined to the box room with boxes of tissues, paracetamol and a fucking raging case of COVID which has left me incapable of nothing much other than the odd grunt, a five-foot walk to the loo (which is so debilitating that I need a good couple of hours sleep afterwards to recover) and repeated thanks that I had been vaccinated twice as I suspect that if I hadn’t been things could be looking pretty dire at the mo.

Just a bit of common sense could have created a completely different outcome. Our place of education was taking the lead from Govt central and not about to start reintroducing masks in crowded areas despite increasing concerns and now we are reaping the reward – lots of children testing positive with or without symptoms, staff isolating or testing positive and a general sense these events have come as a surprise. This is not mention the sheer awfulness of going through this illness, I would not wish it on my worst enemy and I’m sure that I am having it relatively easy.

Maybe this is just a bump as we go into the new term but as winter comes and windows shut I suspect we will have much more to deal with. And whilst I’m on it – why do people under the age of 17 hate to have windows open ??? Every day I was opening windows as fast as they could shut them, they really do not give a tuppenny fuck in most cases. Rant over I will leave you with three wonderful tracks and an opportunity for keen readers in the East of England.

The opportunity – due to incapacitation I have two tickets for this Friday at the Junction in Cambridge to see The Staves and Samantha Crain. They are free to the first person to comment on this post with their email address. I will email the tickets and ask them to donate a sum to an NHS charity unless they are NHS workers in which case I would be even more delighted to part with them.

The tracks reflect my journey, so far, through this horridness. The fever dream of Neil Young, the gossamer whispers of new sounds twisted within the old influences of Spencer Cullum and lastly Daniel Johnson which I will use as the tribute to my beautiful wife Jackie for her ministrations and protecting the rest of the community by locking me away. Hopefully next week’s column will find me better and back to school – in full PPE!

Fever

Dream

Love