Life to 9th November 2020

As late as Saturday morning here in the UK there were indicators about the result of the US Presidential election, but nothing confirmed. One UK news service gave Joe Biden 254 electoral college votes and the incumbent 214. It still could have gone either way. Then during the mid- afternoon news was coming out that Joe Biden had effectively become the President Elect when Pennsylvania was called for him by the American news networks putting him over the 270 college votes required to win the election.

Game over for the current resident of the West Wing. Well, he would have been resident if he hadn't been playing golf.

Later I watched the coverage from America as the news spread and more confirmations of the result flowed in. I can remember when Barack Obama was declared the winner. There were celebrations but they were nothing like those in Washington DC or Philadelphia. Something had happened, something big and it was time to celebrate and party.

What was eerie was the silence from the masses of supporters on the other side.

On Sunday I went out for a ride on one of our New Forest ponies; Skye. Before getting on board I set the alarm on my phone for 1100 so we could observe the two minutes silence. While I was waiting for my friend to get ready, I was talking to the lady who lives next to the field where Skye lives. While we were talking the alarm went off. She looked at me as some walkers went by.

“What’s that? Time to take your meds again?”

Thanks.

Some people just do not understand horses. At one point we were walking along a path and we could hear people jogging behind us. Our horses certainly heard them as they were on their toes trying to see what was making the noise. Instead of stopping a safe distance from us while we tried to calm the horses the joggers came right up behind us within kicking distance before they decided it would be best to stop to let us sort ourselves out. They then suggested we went ahead of them. Not the best Idea as if we did the joggers would be right behind us kicking up the gravel We let them through.

Later in the afternoon my wife and I went to a memorial for the airman who served at Ibsley Airfield. We laid a wreath there for my late father who served over here and in Europe during World War II with the Royal Canadian Air Force. He came from Edmonton in Canada in 1943 to the UK, landed at Normandy, went through France, crossed The Rhine on his 21st birthday into Germany and then returned to the UK via Holland and Belgium by the time he was 22.

His service number was R212178.

We can see the memorial and the wreath every time we walk, drive or ride past it past it.

Sunday evening finished with watching a TV drama adaptation of Victor Hugo’s “Les Miserables”. I have never read the story, and this is the first time I have seen it at all. I think that must make me a bit odd as I have never seen the musical production live or on screen and having watched this version I think my impression of it could be tainted if I did.