The weather in NE Scotland has been oppressive, objectively.

"the incessant rain we have seen in parts of eastern Scotland with Aboyne in Aberdeenshire already having had 63mm - more than its average for the whole of February. ....Not only has it been wet, but pretty dull too.

For Dyce in Aberdeen the sun has not made an appearance for the last 14 days, which if confirmed will make it the longest dull spell since 1957."


https://www.bbc.co.uk/weather/articles/cy8y652jy96o

I don't think we've actually seen the sun since December. I'm out with the dog, twice, every single day, and it's been rain on a sharp easterly forever. Some days it's a real storm, some days it's a peevish gale, but it's just not stopping. Climate change depression as pathetic fallacy, in a wholly unromantic way.

I have just had my nose waxed for the first time.

We've been going to a Kurdish barber shop in Seaton for about a year now. I'm trying to learn a little Kurmanji, and I practice with the men who work there and get them to tell me about politics. They are amazingly good with my smallest offspring's luxuriant hair, which would shame a gorgon. I have rather less, which they mow short. But confronted with my disorganised facial scraggle they somehow find symmetry of a sort.

Today there was a Significant Pause. The neat moustache was wholly ruined by what lurked above. In fact I am careful to trim my nostrils, though obviously not to their standard.

"Wax your nose?"

"Errrrrmmmm..."

Every man in there was watching me.

"Okay."

So now, for all you doubters, I have joined the ranks of cis men who have had gender affirming surgery.

I fully intend to keep the sparse grey scrub elsewhere, and in fact I am put off by unnatural hairlessness in others, but at least I know a bit about what it's like now.

I have made a significant investment in my retirement. In about 5 years, I will reach state pension age, and with luck I will finally be able to stop working. Perhaps, by that time, I will still feel like returning to research and writing. But I owe myself, and those around me, some cheer and inspiration.

My investment? A banjo. I am teaching myself folk songs, Pete Seeger style. If I get a chance (finally!) to visit West Africa I hope to learn from xalam or ngoni players. I tried to play a banjo many years ago, when I had seen Taj Mahal and Tony Trischka, and simply gave up. Now I know why I am learning, and I have no expectation that I will ever be any good; I just want to bring a bit of music with me. If I keep at it for a few years I should know some songs.