Not been feeling good in the evenings in the past couple of days: have been staring into space, scrolling through stuff on the Internet, and really not feeling like writing anything down.
I can tell you, though, that 30 years ago it was a Tuesday. I know that because Tuesday was the day my mother ran a judo class at my primary school. I didn’t do judo, but I had to sit in the corner of the hall and read whilst my mum held the class, because otherwise there would have been nobody to take me home. Sometimes we then had to walk home after the judo mat had been put away; sometimes one of the other parents would give us a lift. That particular Tuesday thirty years ago today, I remember, we got a lift; I remember getting into the car and being told, by the parent giving us the lift home, that the Space Shuttle had exploded.