2024-01-24 from the editor of ~insom
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I'm in Dublin; everything is so lush and green and alive.
This is what happens when it's so humid and wet all the
time, but you still get decent sun. The concrete and the
bricks on the lower floors of every building are covered in
faint amounts of moss -- or the signs that moss was blasted
off, at least.
The hospice that my mum is at is one of the most alive
places. It feels unfair that this is just a beautiful view
out of her window and not a place she can go and spend time
in. Not a single dead branch is visible even though it's
Winter and I'm sure that's very-much on purpose. This is a
place where everything has been thought of. I don't think
she could be anywhere better, even though it's somewhere no
one wants to be.
