Post a sentinel at the border of what you attempt, what you ignore
Independent of the eye-stinging secondhand smoke, today has been hot garbage for me, both of my husbands, and the mother of my godchild, which is not how anyone should spend Alan Turing's yahrzeit. Have a ghost poem for him which I had not previously encountered: Linda Bierds, "Evolution." I am forty-one years old, not yet close enough to my birthday to have outlived him, unimaginably closer than when I was sixteen. When Christopher Morcom was my age, he had been dead for twenty-three years.

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Thank you for linking to that poem (I hadn't run across it before either)
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You're welcome!
*hugs*
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Hooray! It is a good designation!
*hugs*
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Thank you. The entire week just seems to be like this. Today started with a COVID scare!
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Aww no!
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We're good! It seems to have been an artifact of a stealthily expired test! But who needs this?
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It was past its sell-by date according to its packaging, but according to the government website its viability had been reappraised by four months, but in light of the day's fire drill the sell-by date seems to have been the accurate one, which I do not appreciate especially since it means we need to acquire new tests from somewhere now that the government is no longer providing them.
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I have seen them in Star Market and will price-check the next time I'm in, thank you!
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That's neat. I'll take a look.
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Today was not good, but it's true it was less bad, and thank you!
And thank you for sharing that ghost poem (I don't know if poetry can fix anything, but it's comforting, and that definitely counts, right?)
I think it must. You're welcome!
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A beautifully woven poem -- thank you. But I am sorry about all the bad days at once under the smoke.
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Thank you. At least it rained today.
(You would think more people would write poems about Alan Turing, but I don't run across them all that often.)
*hugs*