It doesn't seem that long since the government were
questioning the wearing of the burka and yet by Friday, if and when I go into a
shop, I will look like this, by law. I'm not making any political point by
saying as much, just reflecting on how times can change.
I am lucky in having a sister who makes masks for the people
that need them. She not only gave me three of different designs but delivered
them, too, along with a haircut. I enjoy being related to hairdressers,
mask-makers, cake-makers, pharmacists and living next door to a versatile
handyman among any number of other useful contacts. And what do I in return for
anybody. Well, proof-reading, occasionally words for pop songs and help with
Literature Studies from O level to undergraduate essays and theses.
Meanwhile, life
without the day job increasingly convinces that it is some sort of paradise. I
don't like to count on such things because, as a devout pessimist, I'm always
sure something will go wrong. But, as reading and writing progress most
satisfactorily, the chess habit has put me at an all-time high at Lichess, now
on a rating of 1898 for 10-minute games which puts me, unrealistically it seems
to me, in the top 12% of players there in that discipline. The next game, as it
always is in football, is the big one, with more points taking me over the 1900
threshold and possibly ahead of the 1903 rating for 5-minute games, which would
mean saving the better rating and playing back in the other time limit.
The poems, Situation and Starý židovský Hřbitov are my
declared runners in a two-pronged campaign in local poetry competitions that
close shortly. Not that I particularly approve of competitions when I wish that
poetry at least could avoid being a competitive sport but I won't mind if I get
a little cup to look after for a year or am given a few quid in cash. I won't
mind losing at all, either.