Complacency

 

Complacency.

The wind blew cold among the doubters, fingers frozen, woolen defences like virtual relationships, useless.

A cigarette smoky plume against this colourless backdrop. Shuffling miscreants looking for an advantage before it was too late.

But it was too late.

The clock had ticked on, few paying homage or heed. Hope had sped off, leaving only a backdraft, a carbon smudge on the greasy concrete.

Vaccine strewn and useless among the human detritus.

Complacency was king.

It wont happen in England.

Over 100,000 lost souls disagree.

A sea of indifference

 

Coasting

I was coasting along on indifference, lack of interest, concern, or sympathy, not really being affected by, well, anything.

UNTIL

I fell out with the dentist. Not great when you have ten German fingers, fiddling inside your mouth. Thing is, he is a great surgeon, but having performed on his particular stage of specialty, and sorted out my problemas de bucal, he wants to come back for an encore, which. I feel is not really necessary or indeed what I want.

Open (your wallet) wide, this will hurt a bit.

A bit like private health insurance I had for a short time. During that window of opportunity, I was introduced to co-pagos, where the patient has to pay a percentage of treatment cost, or, wait for it, in some cases 100%. 100%!!!! so what do I have insurance for. Hold that thought, of course, its a business, and that makes everything OK.

So, I still pay tax in good old Blighty. Yet during a clear out I found a letter from HM Government indicating that I was no longer entitled to NHS care, so my tax bill is for what exactly?

Oh goody, I can pay tax in two countries, and yet, that nice Mr Boris has told me my state pension has been postponed until my 66th summer.

Thanks dude.

Sleep well, more moaning tomorrow.

So Wednesday has come and gone.

 

I have a thought for my English speaking (and reading) followers, as this is not really relevant here in Spain, yet.

If you are British, and want to retire, but have not made arrangements for a private fund, be aware that the British government led by billionaire Boris, has changed that important number to 66 summers. Yet for as long as I can remember, if you were breathing on this little country called UK, retirement was 65 it was 65, younger for women, although that age number escapes me. Thus from October of last year, retire at your peril. You will get NOTHING, until you and your zimmer have 66 candles on your collective cake. I understand this number is being discussed, the current proposal is 68...which doubtless will be just in time for me to miss out again.

I think its the first time government greed and folly has affected me directly, and it will affect many, many more, unless like Boris you are a millionaire. Apart from that, everything is just hunkydory..(is that even a word?)

On a positive note, I passed a queue outside the hospital this afternoon, on enquiry was told it was la vacuna contra covid .you get it...so really good news. Healthcare here, public not private, is exceptional, with attentive responsible staff. The vaccine queue another great example.

That, and being called maestro thanks to my soccer fotos, is the bright side of today. For the record, I am no maestro, just great gear and some experience, and no, you dont always need the sun at my back.

Stay safe people, help is on the way, despite Boris.

So that was Tuesday.

 

Getting a wee bit late here in the Spanish countryside, a Tuesday spent mostly my little office trying to escape complaining cats..sorting through archived photographs listening to a world variety of radio stations.

Listening for inspiration.

Thinking about a Glasgow based broadcaster, casting back to the advent of FM and live all night programming, yes with presenters. Made my solitary night shifts in the middle of nowhere junction a wee bit easier. Now, curiously, many use robojuke or some such auto system at any time of day. Removes the humanity.

I often wonder why that is. People want paid I guess, do computers really care?

Now, from my native county in Scotland, there are a host of stations, mostly, but not all, internet only outfits with crystal clear reception, which you can broadcast and recieve from any corner of our twirling orb. DAB radio is in my car, well waiting just around the next corner, although this little island is strugglng to keep up with modern tech. Like anything new you have just purchased, out of date and obsolete, immediately.

Thus FM is on a deathbed of unforgiving technology.

What comes after the internet?

Do you know? Answers in time for my Wednesday rant.

Please. Meantime may I bid you goodnight.

Tormenta cerebral

 

The wind has blown all day, the rain pouring down, we are on the edge of a storm, warning yellow according to the authorities…

Avisa amarilla

For once they are not wrong.

So winter has arrived, in La Palma. Interesting to see what the climate is doing on the west of our rock, a climate invariably kinder.

So tomorrow in El Paso, for a little while at least, colaborating with a local radio station, commenting on local football, the next step up in my language learning process which sometimes I think is a step up to far.

But with more confidence….who knows where it will go. I like to dream, think outside the box. A lot of people arrive here with lack of understanding, planning for some sort of future which is just simply put, out of reach. But they survive, without language nor understanding, whilst I struggle with la señora gramatica to what end?

Perhaps I have got it wrong

a pasear

 

Caminando bajo el sol, en la maravilla de La Palma. Senderismo seco, acompañado por cactus y palmas. ¡Cuidado! Algunas plantas son afiladas, y quiere dejar un rayo en cualquier persona.

Ten cuidado.

El cielo, azul, despegado, solo gaviotas gritando su mensaje, o un lagarto escondido dentro de las hierbas y la césped, tiene también una voz.

Las flores salvajes, bonitas pero indignadas..”¿Por qué nos llaman salvajes? Somos amables, hermosas, y nuestra color esplendida, una reflexión de la vida que tenemos aquí en el campo, una vida sana y completa.”

Asi es, una vida sana y completa.

Casí.

Español con errores con el escocés errrante.