Adios…

We are all aware of how well our recent history with Europe goes concerning “letters”. She has a piece of paper which will make it all better for everyone. Except for the vast numbers who don’t want it.

Maybe it is for the best. We were always the moaning, dull, latecomer to the party. Bitching about the food and the company. Like so many of the people voting for Brexit – taking part was purely a one-sided affair. The other side had to do all the dancing and the chatting while we stood with our buffet plate in the kitchen trying to find the sausage rolls and the little cocktail sticks with cheese and pickles. Always a little scared of admitting to liking the cocktail stick things – they seemed a little bit too “continental” and fancy.

Well the party is over and the alcohol is drunk. I hope there is not a hangover.

And nothing much has changed – we still live in the same neighbourhood and still keep the lawn tidy. Not going to be invited to any parties any longer, mind you. Isn’t that a blessing. Having to pretend to like anyone but ourselves was so boring.

Grumpy

Today I am feeling very grumpy.

The news is dominated by people running from terror in London and Trump running even faster from reality. It makes for dispiriting reading.

I get adverts from companies I use to store photos and videos which irritate me intensely. Do not try to kidnap the language. A slogan such as “Support Heroes” for people buying online photo storage is bullsh*t. We consume language and words and destroy meaning so easily these days. Not in any organic and creative way. Just to grab some shock value in an advertisement.

I spent five minutes trying to get some bandwidth to listen to the news and what did I get? Nigel ‘effin’ Farage. The lizard king of any public bar he can get into. On a morning when some humanity and a large amount of reassurance are badly needed – the news stations turn to a man intent on benefitting personally from division and hatred. His brand of “plain speaking” is designed entirely to stoke primitive fears of “others”. A man blessed with a decent brain, a good standard of living and the associated opportunity but chooses to spend his time trying to sow division and reap power. Disgusting man.

So I swore at him – from afar – and had a quick walk. Cold air, blue skies and people doing honest, early-morning labour. Refreshing.

At the back. Madrid.

Alone, save the others, in the second last row from the back,
A modern Cathedral offers wifi and a warm welcome.
I discover new words while studying my translation pack.
“A Pew” – a word from my childhood collecting dust: “Banco de iglesias”.
I choose not to like this and it’s diminutive “banca”. I’ll pass.
“Blanca”: a girl I knew long ago. North of Madrid. A friend.
Too similar. As is Banco Santander. It’s not the word for me.
I consider that there must be an equivalent, better phrase for pew.
Everyone else is now standing. As am I. I see
row upon row of people queueing at their “bancas”.
For all the modernity the acoustics aren’t what they should be.
Neither are the windows. Neither are we.

Perdona nuestras ofensas.