Trust me to quote In the Bleak Midwinter on this gloomy day in November. Things are muted here, even as it is a brilliant blue day outside. Yesterday two people of considerable importance to the organisation I work for died; one after an illness, one very suddenly. I knew both of them only slightly; many people here did for decades. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to see how much of a loss it must be. I try not to imagine losing someone close to me, to know that you've felt somebody's touch for the last time, that you will never look into their face again.
There's been too much death this year, so much loss. Maybe that is what growing up means: realising what a gaping hole a death leaves, like a crater, affecting everything around it. Mortality is a nasty beast.
I am taking refuge in superficiality, by which I mean I am getting a haircut tonight. I got the recommendation from my personal equivalent of Bike Helmet Girl, so I have high hopes.