In my last post I wrote a little about my reasons for blogging and how I was unsure where it was going, what I hoped to gain from it. I can write about politics, it's sometimes a place to vent, to offer my opinion, my opinion isn't worth too much but when I look back, as I do occasionally, I can see that what I'm doing is creating a historical document for myself that allows me to look back at my responses to significant political events. So Trump is in power, Theresa May went to see him. I felt ashamed of her. I don't see her as my prime minister but still I felt misrepresented when I saw pictures of her holding Trump's hand and simpering girlishly next to him at the shared press conference. It shocked me that she could meet a fascist leader on Holocaust Memorial Day. It shocked me that she has just sold millions of pounds worth of arms to Turkey. It makes curl inwards with shame and then that shame which is my country's shame makes me want to fight for my country, makes me want to reclaim my space, to speak out, to say no. It was to this end that I went on a local demo a couple of days ago. It felt important to resist in a more concrete way than ranting or reposting on facebook.