Every year I write, as we all do, to reassure others that (I) we are sill here. The affirmation is urgent this year, not only because of my ever-increasing age but also because of ever-increasing Covid-19. I am still here but I have disappeared into a personal, permanent state of lockdown, restricted as can be: no legs, no wheels, no energy, time or money. I am grateful to have my son Matthew with me, because he is good-natured company and an extra set of legs and hands that I become increasingly reliant upon.

I have survived almost a year of pain and discomfort and I am grateful for good health in spite of it all and a few useful marbles that enable me to think and write—still—a little.

I am still here and still thinking and I wish you a serene and thoughtful festive (?) season

Next year will be better.