I’ve not added to this blog for a good while. I fractured my wrist and ruptured the tendon in my right thumb at the end of July, which has made life rather more complicated than usual. But the main reason has been a sense of emotional turmoil that’s made me reluctant to return to this form of writing. A mixture of fear and outrage at a political situation that impacts on my life at many levels. Fear that a no-deal Brexit will prevent my daughter from getting the vital medicine on which her precarious well-being depends. Outrage that the grim political farce of Brexit, played up by a monied elite (who effectively own the media) and who are now using a phoney English nationalism to blind the population to the need for deep adaptation in the face of environmental and social meltdown. And a strange mixture of deep sadness and regret that the various bonds that link me to good friends in Ireland and America are being weakened day by day. Weakened because, despite what we would wish, we are all increasingly forced to give more and more attention to a social and environmental situation created by the contempt of that elite for everything but their own wealth and privilege. We all had better and more worthwhile things to do, yet must now set them aside in a desperate struggle to retain some semblance of the quasi-democracy that we still have. Without it, we have no chance of working together towards addressing the fundamental socio-environmental issues we face.