For the last 16 month-ends we have been in Sarawak...

This month we're somewhere else.



To be precise, we're visiting family in Newark, Nottinghamshire, England, and a few weeks ago, I documented how we got here.



Since arriving we've been staying pretty close to home, exploring our home county's pretty villages and waterways, and making occasional forays into neighbouring Derbyshire and Lincolnshire. (Start here, and keep working your way forward.) And of course, we've also been reacquainting ourselves with England's finest produce (think Stilton, Lancashire, and Red Leicester cheese, smoked mackerel, Lincolnshire sausages, gammon, BACON...).

All of which has been very enjoyable.

Back in Sarawak, the covid situation seems under control for the time being, and our R rate is the lowest in the country. Which is a good thing, as there's now an election in the offing (scheduled for 18th December)... Nation-wide, Malaysia's deaths now stand at 30,370 (compare last month's 28,876).


Here in the UK, we have Omicron... No-one's quite sure what the implications are going to be, but mask-wearing is again mandatory in shops and on public transport, and everyone is desperate to "save Christmas". We'll see...

One key development is that boosters have been brought right forward (to three months after your second vaccination), so this afternoon we started the process of getting ourselves into the UK system so that we can benefit from that initiative -- fully conscious all the while of the horrendous vaccine inequity that caused this stupid situation in the first place, and will likely continue to do so...



It has been another busy month on Purple Tern, as there's been a truly wonderful array of autumn colour to document. Things have not been so active, therefore, on the other blogs, with just two new posts on The Velvet Cushion (on Hannah Arendt, and on developments on the language front), and nothing this month on Vintage Travel.

But busy PT months are not unwelcome, after this long period of inactivity.



I'll close with a beautifully autumnal poem called Head Over Heels.

Originally written in Shetlandic by Christine De Luca (who also translated it into English), it came to me by way of the always interesting newsletter from Words Without Borders:

We lift our eyes from weathered end-of-season sights. Autumn,
with fingers soft and lingering, lightens both
land and heart; bright glints of newness.

And all the pointless fights that come
from thinking we can only see one way, fade
into nothingness. A glow of light upon

the drabbest land, a glimpse of love around
embittered hearts, and everything turns
somersaults. We must un-self ourselves,

untangle all that wearies one another,
journey with our difference, and savor
all the common wonders of our world.