Tongue

My new garden is full of bulbs, all, apart from the snowdrops, waiting to flower and all in the fairly random places that my digging and soil-moving over the last nine months have stranded them. This solitary daffodil is the first to raise its voice so it has become this year's emblem of sight.

Most of you know the story. 

It's been a day of me raising my voice too. 
First at a bank whose absurd systems still will not let me change my address, despite two previous attempts. I asked them at the beginning of this call to record it for training purposes and 20 minutes later I asked them to play it to management so they could hear how self-defeating their systems are. Apparently that's not possible unless I complain so I complained. For the time being they have marked me as 'gone away' so they now have no means of contacting me, either about my complaint or about the account.

Second, in writing, to some very longstanding friends whose anti-trans posts on Facebook have finally worn me down. I have a lot to lose.