Çaturday No Kings

Many of you are, I hope, currently at or heading to a No Kings gathering this fine, sunny Saturday. I’m sorry to say I can’t: I’ve just got back from Florida and brought a nasty upper respiratory tract infection with me. I’ll be coughing my lungs out and feeling like death warmed up while everyone else competes for Best Signage and Most Witty Takedown of our current political leaders. And also make connections and sign up for organisational and observational training. Because it’s that kind of hard, continuing work that leads to change. As I’ve pointed out elsewhere.

Charlie and George of course also have no time for kings—mainly because, being god-emperors of Broadview, such lesser beings are beneath their notice.

I will leave you with Charlie enjoying the morning sun and hoping that some bird or squirrel will come down from the cherry tree—which as you can see if being colonised by the over-exuberant clematis—and join him for lunch on the deck.