Monday 20th March 2017

Monday came like my mood, dark and already raining. It was set to rain all day, a day at home where I could look at the outside world though rain-soaked windows.

We were up at six, and by twenty to seven, I had drunk my first coffee, so went to watch the recording of the football, meaning of I skipped through the punditry I would see highlights from all three games before it was time to work at eight. As it was, I watched them all and was ready for work by half seven, made another coffee and had a bowl of Bran Flakes, because, well, you know.

THere was no escape from work. I mean I would like to think with the end of the project coming, I could bask in a job well done, but the next one is calling, and I have much reading to do. So, best check mails, answer calls and get down to some reviewing.

With the best of intentions to get ahead, it seemed the forces of evil were intent on dragging me from my chosen task to doing something else that should look after themselves, or at least be looked after by someone else. No such luck. However, in that manner the morning passes.

Outside, rain falls down hard, and the wind blows a hoolie. Just nice to be inside to see the rain falling in sheets in the valley at the bottom of the garden. At least I wasn't bomb servicing in this weather, like I did in years gone by.

The 20th will go down in history for two reasons: 1 The PM announced that Article 50 will be triggered on Wednesday week. Which may be the end of the country as we know it. Anyway, I avoided the news and the BBC website all day, as hearing politicians crowing about things they don't understand isn't good for my blood pressure. I hope I'm wrong about this, but you know, I don't. And then the Director of the FBI was interviewed under oath, and it turns out that Trump's campaign was under investigation for it's links to Russia since last July. Let that sink in for a moment. However, Trump's subsequent Tweets made the impression that other stuff had happened, but, the President's campaign was at least supported by a foreign power. And Russia at that, and that the investigation had been going on longer than the revelation about HRC's e mail server, which fizzled out.

I mean that in itself was an incredible thing, but after 50 or so days of lies and craziness form 45, it all seems par for the course, and while we focus on him, his team dismantles social care, PBS, funding for the arts, and so on. Bread and circuses indeed.

In the afternoon, I make breaded aubergine, and once Jools arrived home, I began cooking. Outside the rain stopped and stars came out. It was Vera Lynn's 100th birthday, and there was to be some kind of light show at the cliffs, but it was a private thing, or just for TV cameras anyway.

We watch a documentary on British photography. That was my idea I have to say. Interesting stuff about photo-journalism, and how important it is, if painful to see images of the dead and dying. And the effect it has on the photographer.