I was waiting for my painkillers to kick in yesterday morning, and waiting and waiting, when it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't actually taken them. Which could be why they hadn't worked. Not that they do all that much at best. I think only a strong dose of morphine would really touch arthritis pain, and they won't give me that.
We had a busy lockdown Wednesday - two food deliveries - and three Zoom sessions - with my siblings in the morning and our separate Zooms in the evening; the Captain to meet up with the metal detector crew, me to meet up with a friend.
What would be a collective noun for metal detectorists? Clearly a hoard - a Hoard of Detectorists.
We - the siblings - were remembering various funny and scary experiences from our travelling days today. One of which I have referenced in "Waiting for Gordo" by giving a large Maldivian cockroach a role in the drama. And John was talking about the time he looked out of his plane window, at night, as saw a comet sailng past in all its glory.
That reminded me of a lovely snd sad Hardy Poem, which I sent round the family.
The Comet At Valbury Or Yell'ham
It bends far over Yell'ham Plain,
And we, from Yell'ham Height,
Stand and regard its fiery train,
So soon to swim from sight.
II
It will return long years hence, when
As now its strange swift shine
Will fall on Yell'ham; but not then
On that sweet form of thine.
Thomas Hardy
https://internetpoem.com/thomas-hardy/the-comet-at-valbury-or-yell-ham-poem/
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