MenoAZinkulling: N

This month here at the Wild YAMster's bloggy, you are going to be regaled with words related to feelings and happenings of the last twelve months. Oh yes, you know of what I talk.  This is to be the ALPHABET OF AAARRGFIZZZ... We've all had to deal with it. This will be a reflection purely from my point of view. You don't necessarily have to agree with what I say; just appreciate where it's coming from. Normal service will resume on May Day. (By which time I may be yelling that down the ether phone loud and repetitively!)

☀♉☀

I mentioned the formation of language around Coviditionitis. One such formulation that is getting my goat a bit is "New Normal".

I'm sorry, but normal is normal. If it is not normal, it is - like the alternative name of the virus - Novel - which, of course, means "that's new!" To say something is novel feels slightly out of place, too - for it conjures up thoughts of being slightly fun or entertaining. Even the trend for the Noir is classified thus. There hasn't been too  much fun or entertaining about COVID.

All the changes we have had to adapt to as collateral damage from Coviditionitis has meant learning new ways of living - and at the moment, they can still be classed as new. But not 'normal', if compared to life before March 2020 when reality hit in. What we do now have to adapt to is that the new is starting to have become part of our background life and - most of us - don't think twice about putting on our masks, washing our hands, or making a bend on the path to ensure the distance between ourselves and the chap walking in our direction. In this adaptation, what was once new, is becoming normal. 

In short, what is new cannot be at the same time normal and vice versa. If you are still in the process of adjusting (what? still, after 12 months???), then it is new. If you have adjusted, it has become normal. 

One of the big winners during this crazy year has been Nature. Everywhere it was noticed that wildlife seemed to flourish, and the air in our cities cleared up. With the increased need to get outside, people started to appreciate being within nature in ways they had, perhaps, previously overlooked. Simply being in the garden with the birdsong that was missed in the buzz of traffic excited many city dwellers. Being able to actually hear the bees and the rustle of the leaves in the breeze...

One memory I shall always treasure is of the hypericum bush in dad's garden. Bee central! With the silence of lockdown I could hear the hum ten feet away; bumbles of three types, honeybees, hoverflies, a wasp or two... oh how they loved that shrub.

Finally, how could I pass through 'enn' without a proper mention of the First Minister of the Bonny Land, none other than 'oor wee Nicola'? I always had some admiration for her. I've had my brush with politics (have I ever mentioned that here?... no, note to self for a future post) and know the shell one needs to build. My estimation has only increased with the dedication she has shown to daily updates and a sense of genuine condolence and concern - of empathy - that she emanates. So many folk are ready to criticise but have no concept of what it is to be in that position - or even close to it. Is Nicola perfect? Of course not and let nobody blame her for that - unless, of course, you really are perfect... are you??? No. She has proven herself a worthy stateswoman over the past twelve months, in the face of not just the pandemic, but the onslaught of her detractors, those who claim to want the same goal, and from her ex-boss, Awricht Sleazemon. 

See you tomorrow for the ongoing saga. Please be aware that there is more I amAZing over at 

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