2018: How was it for you?

We have arrived at the final day of what has been, for the most part, a dreadful year.

Brexit is still happening, and getting madder and more desperate with each passing day. And of the country doesn't rip itself apart before the 29th March, then it will after. The very fabric of our nation and national union is under threat. A Brexit forced on the two countries who voted heavily to stay could result in Scottish independence and a unified Ireland.

I don't recall that on the side of a bus.

And of all the UK's political leaders, it is the SNP's Nicola Sturgeon who seems the most statepersonlike. Who saw that coming? Given the choice of Brexit forced upon the nation or independence and being in the EU, I think Scotland would chose the latter.

And over in the US, Trump is still in power, but with each passing day, the Special Prosecutor gets ever closer. The US slides further into chaos, although his power is diminished after the midterms, so he has shit down Government as his "great idea" of the border wall is frozen. A look into his tweet history states, however, that a shutdown of Government shows a weak president: so which is it, Donald?

There literally is a tweet of his for every occasion.

Who knows where either shitshown will end? Hopefully with A50 being revoked here and impeachment for Trump. But who knows....

Meanwhile, we have had a lot to deal with. Death has come calling to what and who we love. Three people along the road have died, including dear Bob opposite, his lung condition getting the best of him over the summer. Bob was the sweetest, nicest person you could imagine, nothing was too much trouble. But years of the best treatment and tests the NHS could pay for could find what was wrong. Different medicines and treatments were tried, none worked and many made his condition, temporarily, worse.

And for us, the year began with us thinking two of our three cats had cancer. Although Mulder was on his way to being better, Molly had to have an operation, and although nothing cancerous was found, a growth was removed and she recovered.

But later in the year she began to go blind, in one eye first, then in the other. Her final week was saw such a sudden decline, that when I took her to the vet that Friday, and he saud it was time, it was a relief. But she had been in my life since October 2005, seen me go from being a partially unemployed num to international playboy and quality export, and happily married to Jools, and us living in a ground floor flat in Dover at first, before moving here to St Maggies. She went from being an indoor cat, to one who would go outside, hunt, and be Queen of all she surveyed.

She was happy as a house cat, but happier once she could go outside.

I cried buckets as I held her in my ames as her life faded. I have a clump of her fur, and her ashes. One day we will put her into the garden she loved and where she ruled. There will never be another Molly.

I nearly lost a friend and colleague as he had a heart attack that went undiagnosed for two weeks, and when it was, a last minute dash from Esbjerg to a main hospital saved his life. We are now of the age when we lose friends. It is scary, and scarier that it could be us one day.

I still travel with work, just not as much. I go to Aarhus about once a month, and should go to Hamburg once every two months, though work pressure will mean that won't happen now maybe until the end of the project.

Oh yes, the project: it has gone from this time last year as being something that only existed on paper to one now where many of the components have been made, just a lot of assembling remains to be done, then the offshore phase begins. This will probably take me to Easter 2020, so plenty more to do, more air miles to collect, and hotels to sit in, eating dinner on me todd.

We didn't visit the cinema this year again, despite there being a new multiscreen cinema in Dover, just down the hill. Maybe we will go next year, but don't hold your breath.

We went to a few gigs: Microdisney at the Barbican in June, then The Blockheads and Blancmange at the Booking Hall in Dover. All were good in their own way, though each one required late nights, which in our advancing age we are not happy about, but glad we do these things

I visited a whole load of churches, in Kent and out, through the year. The highlight around which the 2018 orchid season pivoted was the finding, on a trip arranged by your's truly, of the Burnt (Tip) Orchid after a 5 year gap since the past sighting. I have written about that in another post this week, but the thrill of that is something mere words can do justice to. Other highlights in Kent were the "Green" Fly, a possible BLH x Violter hybrid, the four white Ladies, the var chlorantha White Helleborine and the new colony of Late Spiders and new meadow for Green Wing I found out about too.

Outside Kent I saw a Fen Orchid, several in fact, for the first time. One for orchidists really, as they are small and green, and easy to miss. Also saw some fine Early Marsh at the site, including rare var.s of that too Bee var flavescens and chloriantha. And in early June I got to see the Greater Tongue Orchids, which I have only been able to talk about yesterday due to an embargo.

In October we went to New York, Boston, the Catskills and Adirondacks to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. You can read the account of that on here too.

IN music, another great Year, and these are the best tracked I can remember:

The Lovely Eggs; Wiggy Giggy

Bodega:

Julia Jacklin:

Parquet Courts:

After many years writing how dreadful, predictable and crap England were a series of tournaments, imagine our surprise to find that not only were England not shit this year, but they were good to watch, had promise, won a penalty shoot out and got to the semi finals for the first time since 1990. and made what was the most enjoyable World Cup for years even better than it already was. We just have to hope that the squad can build on this, and having made the semi finals of the new fangled competition next summer, with a match against Holland to come, and then maybe the final.

Norwich were not dreadful last year, but flattered to deceive, and in the end ended up a level below what was required. For the new season there was no hint of anything but more of the same, but at the end of September, the team slipped into some wonderful new gear and began to play well, win games, not concede goals, and be generally exciting and enjoyable. The unbeaten run came to and end yesterday, but still, finishing the year second in the table with more points at this stage of the season than ever before, we go into the new year in high hopes. I event went to my first game at Carrow Road for seven years, and witnessed one of the famous comeback wins. It was wonderful to wander round the city before, then meet up with friends before and after the game for drinks and food, though my head was wooly the next morning.

And as for our national team: well, after spending the whole of this blog, a decade, writing on how disappointing at each end of season tournament England were, how they failed time after time to live up to their own low standards, 2018 was something different. With a new young squad, selected on form rather than reputation, they qualified from the group with a game to spare and made it through to the semi finals, winning a penalty shoot out for the first time on the way. They did run out of puff against Belgium in both matches, and Croatia were seriously underestimated and played us off the park. Harry Kane, one time Norwich striker is England captain and won the golden boot. Strange times.

But the upturn continued in the new season, with England making it to the semi final of the new end of season thing in Portugal this year.

I hope that my reporting of the final victory over my allergies is correct. It has taken a while. The magic box with the rad light was as useless as suspected, but did give hope for a while. But the use of the decongestant spray has now worked for nearly two weeks, has resulted in several attacks being stopped as soon as they start, and many night's good and restful sleep.

Non Kent Orchid adventures, 2018

All of my non-Kent orchids were seen in a two week period in the middle of June.

I think of all the UK orchids, probably my favourite is the Bee. We have many sites in Kent that have Bee, but what I had not seen were some of the rarer variants of the species in the county. There was the one in Dover also this year, but for the most part, they have been regular Bee, here there and everywhere.

So, when I saw on Twitter a picture of a var. flavescens Been from East Sussex, and just over the border, I leapt at the chance to go and find them.

The reserve on which they are found is huge and other than they were somewhere in the several square miles, I had little idea where they were. Unusually, I asked at the reserve office where Bee orchids could be found, and the helpful lady pointed to a grass bank but said that the recent high tides had flooded the path leading to it. So, I stood at the top looking down the bank to where I could just make out the occasional Bee, rugular ones at that, bobbing in the breeze. I did not want to walk down, as it would have meant standing on other plants to get there, and anyway, I could not see a white/green one.

Jools went for a walk, and in a few minutes saying she thought she had found some white Bees. Did I want her to show me?

Yes.

So, along the path and down on the seaward facing bank, dozens of green Bees with white sepals were bobbing in the breeze.

In the strong breeze, I could get near to many fantastic spikes, and was in orchid heaven. And on the other side of the path, in the lea of the bank, were even more, and these not being blown about by the breeze.

So, hundreds and hundreds of this rare and hard to find var. in the same place, far more common here than the regular everyday Bee.

So.

The next few species were shot over two days on a quick trip to Norfolk to visit a usually out of bounds reserve on the Norfolk Broads, I won't name here. But on the way I had gotten information of another var. flavecens Bee, this one beside the road beside a busy main road. But before then I would call in at a meadow in Suffolk to find the Suffolk Frogs. This is the third or fourth year I have visited this site, so know where the tiny orchids are, and require just a few minutes to get my eye in, and there beneath my feet were the small spikes, though, in the end, one was well over a foot tall.

I drive up to Diss, then to Harleston, taking the road back into Suffolk, to Metfield, cruising along sunlit winding lanes, through the village and out the other side until I come to the dead end lane.

Parking up I grab the camera, walk through the memorial wood, enter the meadow through the new stile, very welcome not to have to climb over the gate, and into the meadow.

I was here to look for Frog Orchids, and having seen them three years in a row, I went to where I hoped to find them, and began looking. And looked.

I walked up and down the path, until I was at the point I was going to give up when I saw the spike next to my foot, growing in the path.

I take shots of that, then see another in long grass on one side. Then another on the other side.

And on the main path, I find the largest spike I have seen of a Frog.

I take shots of that too.

I walk round the outside of the meadow, but fail to find a single Southern Marsh at all, and there was a reduction in numbers of Pyramidal, although I did find a pure var. alba hidden in the long grass.

As I neared Mum's, a short diversion took me to a traffic island just off the main road, where I had been told of a rare Bee Orchid, a pales, more unusual one than the colony seen in Sussex last week.

I find a place to park off the road, then walk to the island, passing lines of cars waiting to turn. I was an item of interest with me having a long lens attached to my camera. I dodge between the cars, onto the island and look for a flattened area, and sure enough on the south side, there it was. Or I saw the flattened grass at first, but at the middle was a small green and white spike, glistening in the sunshine.

It was said by my dead old Dad many years ago, that flies only feed on rotten meat. This was as Mum and myself were always bitten to buggery by various insects during our holidays in Wales and Scotland. Mosquitoes, gnats, flies, bees, wasps and other such flying, buzzing wee beasties would come and feast, mainly on our sweet East Anglian blood.

Last year in Scotland, the infamous Scottish midges covered me in bits as I stood on a hill in Glenfinnan, and earlier this year, Danish midges, mozzies and flies ate lots of me whilst I stood on a wooded hillside.

All this went through my mind as I packed on Monday, and I searched the house for Jungle Formula. I found none, but thought to myself, maybe it wouldn't be as bad as that.

I was wrong. It was Denmark all over again.

But before we get to that point, I had to get to the site. Oh yes, the site. I can't mention it by name, but a simple online search of the locations were the little orchids grow will quickly turn it, and other up. But anyway, I promised not to mention it, so, I won't. But so as you know.

The site was north of Great yarmouth, and getting from Mum's to there meant going through Great Yarmouth and dealing with its dreadful traffic jams. Like Lowestoft it has just two bridges over the river, and traffic quickly builds up as rush hour proceeds, so after getting up at half six, I say I'm going to leave straight away, with no breakfast in order to get through the town with no delays.

In fact I was relieved to go, I repeated how I felt, and Mum was still shocked. But, there is no time now for messing around, life is what it is, and I am what I am. And need no excuses.

No traffic in Yarmouth, and most of the traffic on the Acle straight was heading into town, but even driving away there was a solid line of cars, even if we were driving at 50 mph. Once at Acle I only had 15 minutes to go, so I stop at a garage, get breakfast, a snack and a litre of iced coffee, then go on until I find a place to park on the side of the road.

It was seven, and I had two and a half hours to kill.

I eat, drink, and listen to the radio and watch the traffic go by.

I sit there watching the rain clouds roll in, then drop ever-increasing amounts of rain on the car. Not what was forecast at all.

At quarter to nine I drive the last few miles to the meeting point, which was down a long dead end lane and then park in a farmyard. Rain continued to fall, and the light was awful. Oh dear, and was I in the right place?

When a second car arrived, I knew I was. The driver asked, are you here for the orchids? Yes I was.

As a third car arrived, a bloke came out from one of the barns and shook our hands, welcome, he said. Would you like a brew? We would.

So we go into the warehouse, all full of dangerous looking knives and machetes, and all the other stuff needed to keep the reserve open and accessible for the people who work there. We have a brew, chat and once the final guy turned up on his bike, we put wellies on and set off out into the rain and the countryside.

We walked over farmland, past casually interested highland cattle, through a gate and onto the fen.

I know now, that fen is alkali and a bog, acidic. Who knew?

The fen is a mat of plants and centuries of compressed dead vegetation floating on fresh water, the mat is several feet thick, and so when you walk over it, it bounces. No firm ground here, just bouncing, and when you stood still, water seeped up. Water was still falling from the clouds too. But there was brightness, and hope.

And there was insects. We stopped to put on repellant, but little did I know that the buggers were already biting through my t short on my back, and only later would I discover the dozens of bites when they started to itch.

As we walked, our guide pointed out so many different rare wild plants and flowers, but soon we came to the object of us being there; the Fen Orchid. It is a small, green plant that you can very easily miss, as it grows among taller vegetation, and is green. The background vegetation is also green. Get the picture?

We search for more, and indeed find many more spikes, some bigger than others, and easier to find and photograph.

The rain had stopped, so we began to enjoy the yomp across the fen; fus us orchidists, there were Early Marsh and Southern Marsh orchids everywhere, and hybrids of the two, of course, as well as ever more exotic and rare plants, flowers and grasses. I took many pictures and our guide sent us a list of what we saw, but I have to marry the two!

With three metres to go before we left the fen, I discovered one of the "holes", gaps between the tussocks and sank knee deep in mud. I was stuck, but the guide came, told me to pull my foot out and he yanked on the boot to free it, allowing me to put it back on and get to dry land!

We see two Marsh Harriers, flying low over the fen looking for food. A cuckoo flies past, calling all the while, even perching in a nearby tree, but conditions not good enough to get a shot. One of te other snappers is a twitcher, so keeps us all updated with the calls of birds we hear, one of which he assured us was a Grasshopper Warbler.

All interesting stuff.

We walked over the short stretch of farmland, disturbing a barn owl from its nest in an outbuilding, we stood and watched as it lazily flew away over the fields to the woods in the distance. It had not made a sound.

We go over a floating walkway to see some really rare stuff, tiny plants that eek out a living in the clear, clean water below the fen. Fur us as we walked off the walkway was the danger that the tussocks were the only safe places, so we have to walk from one to the other.

Finally, we walk back onto dry land again, walking gown a lane between two ditches, and in the hedgerow, we could see the unmistakable shape of a swallowtail butterfly. As we walk towards it and angle to get shots, it flies away. We saw just one others, flying high over the trees well out of reach of the camera.

It was quarter to one, and we were back at the barn, so we change out of the boots, bid the guide goodbye, and go back to our cars, so I plan the drive to the next location; Strumpshaw Fen, a public nature reserve, which should mean I see a Swallowtail.

It was half an hour's drive through Brundall to the reserve, and find a place to park on the side of the road, go to the reception, pay my entrance fee, and ask; been any Swallowtails? Not for a couple of hours, I was told. No surprise really as the weather was still dull and grey, a keen breeze was blowing again, and children were being herded to cross back over the railway to a waiting bus. Twitchers and butterfly chases said silent thanks as peace descended onto the reserve again.

I got talking to a bloke, and he took me to the meadow, and said stay here to see the Swallowtails. So I did, and saw none in two hours.

I did see hundreds more march orchids, along with Norfolk Hawkers and Four Spotted Chasers, which I tried to snap as they flew.

I did manage a half decent shot of the Hawker in flight, then one landed near me, allowing me to use the big boy lens to snap it.

I had been up on my feet for nearly eight hours, there was no sign of the Swallowtail, and the light wasn't improving. I decide to leave.

I hear the sound of an approaching train, line up the camera and was rewarded with the DRS short set hammering past towards Great yarmouth or Lowestoft. A bonus.

Earlier that month, we had found ourselves travelling up to Essex for a rendezvous in a pub car park:

A huge day of stuff.

I mean huge,

Think of the biggest thing you can think of.

Bigger even than that!

But the biggest part, maybe, I can't tell you about as it is embargoed.

Yes, you read that right.

I received a message to be at a certain car park in a certain town at a certain time. This meant rearranging plans we had just made for the day, which now would have to accommodate a two hour drive north, an hour's stay, then somehow meld in with the original plans to go to London.

The meeting was maybe the only chance to see something in the UK, so not be be passed over.

Anyway, we were up at ready for eight, I thought that maybe we might find some churches there to explore. So getting to the area early seemed like a good idea.

Anyway, with traffic quite light up the M20, the sun trying to break through the light cloud, it seemed to be a great day coming together. We cruised through the Dartford Tunnel, into Essex and round until the right exit, then north for half an hour, before turning off the main road down some lovely quiet country lanes.

We didn't have much luck with churches, with the ones we tried were locked fast, and most unwelcoming, no matter how attractive the village is, not pleasant at all.

So we go to the meeting point, were people of a certain age and with a certain interest are gathering. A local gentleman has a list of names and is ticking them off, so that just after 11 we move off.

We were lead down a lane, along a hedge, across another field, over a ditch, along another field and then to a overgrown part of the field, and in the middle were many small reddy spikes, each one like a partly unrolled ribbon. There were Greater Tongue Orchids, and somehow, they had pitched up here. No one can say for sure how they came to be here, but the colony is likely to be two decades old due to the size and number of the spikes, and had been discovered by chance the year before.

In truth, once you have seen and photographed one, they looked pretty much the same, but this species, pne which grows mostly in warmer Mediterranean locals, were here, happy as larry, though not as large as seen in France and Spain, but happy enough in Essex to grow and thrive over several generations.

An hour later we return, Jools have been drinking coffee in the pub whose car park we used. I have a soft drink before we drive back south to London, the intention being that we would find a fine country pub and eat and drink well in the beer garden. I had in my mind's eye the sort of whitewashed timber framed former coaching inn I would prefer, and that it would have a fine selection of ales to choose from.

New Year Brexit

Yesterday, the Government announced it had given £108 million in contracts under emergency rules, for several companies to operate ferries for the Government in the event of a no deal Brexit.

That the Government had to do this comes as no surprise to anyone, apparently except the Government.

What no deal should have already been obvious, and the need to mitigate it clear. Only if there was someway of doing that. Whichever port the ferries might use in France, Belgium or Holland, there will need to be freight clearance facilities, and there is little capacity at any potential ports for these.

One of the companies given a £15 million contract is only two years old and own no ferries nor has it ever operated one. It hopes to run ferries out of Ramsgate. Under the emergency powers the Government says it used to procure this, it didn't need to show the reason why this was chosen, but that such a company could even be considered should raise some questions? Or could it be that Chris Grayling is Minister for Transport and in general, Minister for Chaos, it is he who would have had to have signed this off.

And Corbyn this morning is still insisting that he could deliver a better Brexit.

We hare so fucking fucked.

Happy New Year.

Saturday 29th December 2018

And now, the year is old, we look forward in hope to the new year.

It couldn't be as bad as this year, could it?

I'll leave that there.

Yes, the year is nearly done, and looking at the calendar we find to our surprise that it is Saturday. Again.

That means all the things that Saturdays bring: Tesco, football and cards.

We really didn't need that much from Tesco, but as we have visitors coming round on Sunday, I thought I would cook herb encrusted lamb. So needed racks of lamb, as long as they had some. Otherwise, back to the drawing board.

They did, and allowed for half a pound of meat each, though that did include the bone, so about right I believe. I go round and full two bags only, am done by half eight and back home and warming croissants through by nine.

Breakfast done, showered and dressed, it is darn warm, so I suggest that we, or I, go for a walk, round Samphire Hoe, as it is fairly flat and we had not been there for a while.

It was colder there that I anticipated, but some fresh sea air was just what I felt I needed.

Which way shall we walk, asks Jools. The path. Which path? Beside the railway tracks.

5 minutes later Jools says, there might be a train going by. I say, yes in about two minutes, the high speed service to St Pancras. Do you have the train times from Dover locked in your head?

Yes I do.

And in a minute the expected train flashes by, I snap it.

The Hoe is home in the winter to Dexter and regular cattle as well as sheep, grazing the grassland ready for the new spring growth that will soon be showing.

I take the path across the Hoe, thus cutting the walk in half, because my back was grumbling, just a dull ache, but enough to make it uncomfortable. I was glad to get back to the car, and happy enough to go home to rest.

Back home we listen to Huey, and do stuff. Jools vacuums upstairs and I mess around on the computer. And in the afternoon, there is football. Always football. City were playing Frank Lampard's Derby County (TM), and was going to be a tough game, but Norwich with several injuries was going to be harder. City were 2-0 up with half an hour gone, but concede two from corners before half time, before retaking the lead with ten minutes to go.

And then a floodlight went out.

After a 20 minute break, the game restarted and City never recovered concentration, and Derby scored two goals to win 4-3. The run had to end sometime, shame it had to be now with Leeds losing. But no ground lost then, but another game coming on Tuesday. In the evening game, Liverpool destroyed Arsenal 5-1.

We went to Whitfield to play cards, now that Sylv has gone back to Bolton, there are the usual suspects, and as John had been out drinking in the afternoon, was even more indecisive than usual. But it was fun, I drank Baileys, orange truffle flavour. It was OK on ice, but sweet, I should have stopped after one, but I have three glasses, then another of coffee flavour. It gave me chronic indigestion, not nice. Should stick to beer, wine or whisky.

Jools won the jackpot at the end, which was nice, so we went home happy, and ready for a rematch on NYE!

End of year Brexit

I was rereading some old posts yesterday, and came across one from two years ago where I said what would happen when Brexit met reality.

What I said then has been proven right, and I'm pretty sure that 90% of what I said about Brexit has been too.

We reach the end of a shitty year, with the only thing we can be sure of is that next year is going to be worse.

Constitutional crisis, Brexit, no Brexit, food shortages, black outs, brown outs, elections, second, third referendums.

Maybe some, maybe all, but for now, as I always say, by operation of international law, Brexit will happen on 29th March 2019, two months and twenty nine days away. This is series, but both the Government and Labour are playing internal party politics on a matter that will have huge, probably disastrous consequences for the country.

I have been harder, at times, on Labour than the Government, because as opposition, they should oppose. Oppose and question, hold the Government to account. Faced with the worst Government in living memory pursuing a policy that could bankrupt the country, Corbyn is barley neck and neck in the polls, when they should be 30% up. The Tories and May's Government in prosecuting Brexit was always going to be a disaster, Labour's support for it wasn't and shouldn't have.

But we are where we are.

Friday 28th December 2018

I suppose I should update you regarding my back: Well, it is better, and getting best, for the most part, day by day. However, I still don't feel like I should be walking miles and miles, and through Friday as Jools walked to the doctors and then the library, and I stayed indoors. Should I have walked too? I resolve to do more on Saturday. Probably.

We were running out of milk, so I say I will go to Tesco to pick up some supplies.

Tesco is quiet, oddly so. But then I suppose most of us still have enough leftovers to feed an army. Shelves are still full of Christmas fayre, we don't need any chocolates, mincemeat or anything like that. I get what we need and am out again having spent sixteen quid, over half on flowers for Jools.

I do more work in the morning, not that there is much to do, but I send more mails, make a couple of calls. All this while Jools walks to the doctor's to pick up some more test results. All is fine, btw,

She comes back and I am done for the day, and the year. I end with a call to my boss. She is happy with the way things are; good enough for me.

I had bought some fresh rolls at Tesco, so we have those with salt beef in, and I have to say, it is a mighty fine filling for sandwiches. Or rolls.

We play more Uckers, feast on a generous slice of Christmas Cake middle of the afternoon, before I cook steak and ale pie and veg and gravy and roast potatoes and pigs in blankets. And with a couple of glasses of red wine, it is a mighty fine meal.

We end the day with another game of Uckers, then watch a documentary on Billy Connolly.

We end the day smiling.

Can you give me anything more? Knighthood? That'll do nicely

In order to get Brexiteers on her side, May is trying every political tricks in the book; promoting people to the Privy Council (no, me neither) and giving John Redwood a knighthood for "services to politics". Or voting to keep the poor in their place.

Meanwhile there has been a surge in people trying to cross the Channel, by paying gangmasters.

There are desperate people fleeing persecution in the Middle Eastern homelands, crossing Europe to get to UK.

All this is true, as is that once captured that can be returned to France under EU repatriation agreements, something that would need to be replaced post-Brexit, lest people so intercepted would have to be kept in the UK.

The Government, with the BBC helping them, have ramped up the rhetoric of this story making 200 people sound like an invasion. There has been a massive drop in refugees in the eastern Mediterranean that the conflict areas are more stable than they were. But with Trump announcing, without any implications considered, that US troops would be pulled out of Syria. Meaning there will be a vacuum, and it will be civillians who will suffer the most and so try to get out, sending a new wave of refugees into Europe.

Parliament is still on Christmas break, won't be back until after next week, and today marks the midway point in the six month ratification period. There is just three months left before Brexit, time is very much running out.

The 2018 Orchid Season (part 3)

We have now reached the beginning of June, the main season species are quickly fading in the unrelenting sunshine and heat, and others like the Bee are also struggling. Up on the down, Common Fragrants are everywhere, in some places turning hillsides light purple in there sheer numbers.

Common Spotteds are also everywhere, including in Dover itself, numbers were slightly down on previous years, but only just.

We went to visit the Medway Valley to the last remaining fresh water meadow in the county to see the Early march Orchid. Not that rare nationally, but here in Kent this is all where it is found, and the dry conditions had made the meadow just be muddy, and not that deep either, as the further encroaching by Common Spotted and their interbreeding with the Early Marsh meant that there was just the one pure Early Marsh to be seen, and that was already going over.

At Hothfield, another hyper-rare Kent habitat, the Heath Spotted orchids thrived. A week or so later than previous, but in good numbers in the nearly dry conditions of the bog, in fact most of the bog-living plats did survive in the nearly dry conditions, which was a surprise.

A week later and after several aborted attempts to find the tiny Musks, I did find two tiny spikes. However, the dry conditions at the down and sheer weight of numbers meant that the area which was already well trampled, became flattened to the extent the chalk fragrants that had also been growing there were trampled into the ground. And as I had helped spread news of their location I did feel partially responsible,

Over the past few years, I have talked to various people at both Dover District COuncil and Kent County Council about not mawing various areas so to protect the orchids growing, and the one chap I spoke to in 2017 told me about the colony of orchids growing outside his office window in Dover. I saw some shots posted from a friend this year, so we went to investigate, and I was rewarded with this very unusual spike, with a flower half normal and half var. flavescens. It was one of about a dozen spikes, including other Bees and Pyramidal. But this was the real beauty.

Meanwhile, at the coast, the Lizards at Sandwich were doing their usual bonkers thing. Though again, numbers down, but they put on a good show and as ever, wother the seven quid entrance fee to get onto the estate.

I never tire of their madness.

Also about were the first of the Pyramidals, thriving among the long tussock grass down by the links.

And the handful of Bee were showing well, too.

Also at Sandwich, the huge colony of CSO x SMO were doing their thing, spikes of all sizes, colour and patterns, interbreeding with each other like crazy.

Time never waits, and soon at the end of June, it is time for the Helleborines, with the Marsh first to show in the dune slacks at a well known reserve. Access is easier now, so you can wander to your heart's delight among the only Kent site for these, perhaps the most beautiful Kent orchid species.

By July 10th, the fat lady (orchid) was singing, and the Broad Leaved were beginning to open, and at a little known mid-Kent site, the meadow that had been grazed three years ago was now covered in BL spikes of all sizes, densities and colours.

At another well know site, I came across what appeared to be the rare Violet x Broad Leaved hybrid, Epipactis x schulzei. Thing with orchids and their variants and hybrids, get two orchidists together to dicuss the plant, and odds are they won't agree. I feel happy enough that it was as I described, others not so.

The end of July brought the Violets out. We found yet more spikes at the wood near to us, and shared this with a few others too.

I bought a new ring flash to snap these, and the results were not too bad, but some more work needed.

Up in the north of the county, the Green Flowered were mowed by the local council, and that coupled with the dry conditions meant they were not worth revisiting, although a friend of mine did go back and was rewarded with on spike with a fully open flower.

Finally, the 24th August saw the Autumn Ladies Tresses show in the village. I managed to get the county recorders to list the location with the council as my contact in DDC left his job earlier that year, and the mowers could not be stopped. They did thrive and showed well despite the dry conditions.

One final mention goes to these Dutchman's Pipes, or Yellow Birds Nest. Not an orchid or related to the Birds Nest Orchid, these are seen as an indicator species for the legendary Ghost Orchid. I was told of a colony, and on my third search did find them. And magical they were too. Too dry this year for Ghists, so I did not look, but next year.......

Thursday 17th December 2018

One of the biggest mysteries at this time of year is finding out when the bins will be collected. This is made all the more difficult by the local council putting the wrong leaflets through the door two years in a row now. So, as we sit sipping coffee I could hear the truck reversing down the street this morning, rather than Saturday as the leaflet said. So, I quickly take our trash out to the bins, wheel the bins to the top of the drive: job done.

The plan for the day was, well. I was going to work, and Jols was going to take Sylv to London so she could go home to visit her family back in Bolton. The plan originally was for Slyv to sell up her house oop north and move down here. But it became clear pretty quick after the deeds were done that she did miss her family, no matter how much they sponged off her. So her plan is to go home, buy a cheap flat and spit her time between Kent and Bolton. I suspect she might not come back, but we shall see.

Sylv is a little naive and not wedded to the clock, so Jools thought it best to accompany her up to London on the train and get her to Euston to catch her train to Manchester. I would drop them off at the station, and check mails for work, as you do.

Sylv had packed a case nearly as large as she is, and also had a huge back packed with presents for the family. That was going to be fun.

I took them down to Priory station in plenty of time so Jools could get a ticket, then returned home to begin working.

And as I dealt with the few mails I had, they caught the already full train to London, having to sit on the flip top seats near the toilets. God knows how those at Folkestone and beyond would get on.

I worked away. In London, Jools carried the bag of presents, but bit by bit it came apart, until they had made it to Euston stuff was all but tumbling out. And they had less than five minutes to find which platform the train was leaving from and get Sylv on, and she had no seat reserved! In the end, Jools was able to go down onto the platform and push Sylv, her case and bag onto the train before the doors closed and the train slipped away.

Sighing, Jools turned round and made the journey back.

I carried on working.

It has to be said, not working too hard, as most others had the week off too, but I am all caught up.

I watch some stuff on TV, or try to but I find I am so tired I can't concentrate.

For lunch I have cold Yorkshire puddings, followed by mince pies. All gone.

I get a call from Jools, can I pick her up from Ringwold as the bus refused to stop at the bottom of Station Road, so I put on my coat and take the car to collect her. Outside the traffic was busy enough, and already it was getting dark, so once home I go to bed for a snooze, and end up staying there two hours.

I get up at six with it dark and heck outside. We cut the first slice on the second cake and have a brew.

We while away the evening listening to music and me writing the orchid blogs.

And just like that, there is just over three days left in the year.

Friday Brexit

Today, it emerged that the Labour leader is trying to get Parliament recalled, as we get nearer, day by day, to Brexit day. Its like he could hear the clock ticking.

But it is still his (Corbyn's) assertion that in the event of May's deal being voted down, the Government falling and their being an election, under Corbyn, Labour would campaign on a ticket to renegotiate the WA with the EU.

It is at this point I should state that an election would take at least six weeks to run, and then the preamble to that another few weeks, meaning there really is no time for an election unless we (the UK) were to ask the EU for an extension in the A50 process.

And for a party campaigning on reopening the WA, something which the EU has said, time and time again, is not going to be looked at again, would be no basis for an extension.

So, tomorrow, it will be three months to Brexit day, and the main to UK parties are still negotiating with each other. Something that has not changed for the last 21 months.

And yesterday, the Home Office released details of how EU citizens should apply for residency after Brexit, meaning that despite having the right to live and work in UK now, they would have to reapply and prove their right all over again.

This is not what was promised and when suggested that this would take place, Brexiteers labelled this "more project fear".

So this is how we treat our closest friends and neighbours.

And the phone app created does no work on Apple products, just Android, although the app itself does not work when trying to upload documents. We have a Keystone Government, only this is people's real live they're fucking about with.

The 2018 Orchid Season (part 2)

Everything in the 2018 season revolved around the 24th May. As it was on this date that I had arranged the first of two orchid hunts up on the downs, hoping to find the Burnt Tip, not that I held out much hope, it was more of a social thing to be honest. Or that was the plan.

Here is the account I submitted to the HOS later that day:

I have been a keen orchidist for six years now, and each season put aside one morning or afternoon in order to search the location where the last Kentish sighting had been made.

We used 2nd hand accounts, 3rd hand accounts and even more obscure sources. Last year we were enthused, but two half day hunts drew a blank, and so I guess I really believed that we would not find one in the county, and so was extinct.

I run a Kentish Orchid group on Facebook, so as a last throw, I thought I would throw out the idea of a hunt including as many members of the group as possible to cover as much ground.

In the end, two days were selected, once those spikes in Sussex had been reported to be in flower, as I understood that the Kentish population were of the early flowering variety.

Unbeknown to us, on Saturday 19th a single spike was found and reported to the county recorders.

The first hunt I planned took place on Thursday 24th May 2018, and being a mid-week, just two others turned up in Temple Ewell, but both other attendees had both seen spikes in previous years, and had a wealth of information.

We set off up the down from Temple Ewell, marvelling in the plethora of butterflies that were out on the wing, but mostly basking, allowing us to photograph them, which in itself had made the effort all worthwhile.

The path begins to drop down, and on the other side of a fence, is where the old Lydden Down reserve used to begin; this is where I had heard the last sighting had been, and so in previous years I had concentrate on for our hunts.

We split up and covered the down in horizontal and vertical lines, only succeeding in find ever more Early Spiders, which again, was worthwhile in itself.

The other attendee took us further down the down, and pointed to a south-east facing slope, pointing to where he said he had seen a spike in 2013.

We spit up again, but he, concentrating on where he had seen the spike reviously. I was about ten yards away when a shout went up, I could not believe it.

I walked over saying, even though I did not know these guys before that morning, "you're pulling my leg?"

No, they said, pointing down to a tuft of grass, and at the base of the grass was a single flowering spike, smaller than it's Sussex cousins, but fully out and in tip top condition.

We all took time to photograph it, and as I kneeled down before the orchid, the sun broke through the cloud for the first time that morning, and I got a wonderful shot.

We decided not to look any further lest we walk on any more developing spikes, although subsequent searches have drawn more blanks.

I have since found that the recorder had been visiting the spike daily to hand pollinate each flower in order to get it to set seed.

That evening, I posted the finding on two Facebook groups and again on Twitter informing BSBI of the discovery.

I also wrote to the group of four recorders, and it was in one of their replies that I found that one recorder was horrified that he had been told the finding was on Twitter, so I decided to remove my tweets regarding the finding, but keeping the finding to the two closed Facebook groups.

I heard yesterday that the spike is still in good condition, and the area around it not too flattened, and so hopes are high that when it goes over this week it will set seed, and in years to come we might have more spikes in Kent.

In the following days, I took a friend who had been looking here for eight years, and I will be honest, it has been emotional for us all. BUt we can now say that Neotinia ustulata is still a current Kent species and not extinct.

There you go.

Thing is, a meeting of orchidists means the swapping of information, new sites, new species and hits as to where to go next. I had heard from FB that a very rare hyper-green, or one lacking in chlorophyll at all, had been seen in the county, and I had directions. So I went with both the guys to hunt the spike.

Well, we did look everywhere near to where the directions took me, but we could not find the spike. I would have to return another day with better clues.

One of the other guys to share the news that just along the valley there was a meadow that had over 120 spikes of Green Wing Orchids. Now, it is not often we can say we visit a place that is largely unknown to the orchid community, but indeed just along the valley, behind an ancient five bar gate was the steep meadow, and along the ridge 143 spikes of the orchid.

I was also told of another site near to Dover where both Green Wing and Late Spiders had been found, as well as a Burnt Tip no more than a handful of years ago. There just wasn't time to check that out this year, but there will be other years.

The next day, I took a friend along to look for the green Fly, and after 20 minutes, in very dark, gloomy and dank conditions, we found it. Or them. Three spikes, one sadly had been damaged before we got there, but the other two were still fine.

Only problem was getting a shot in the dark conditions, and it was at that point I made the decision that I was going to buy a ring flash later in the year, when we could afford it, for spikes like these.

What it did show to us is that in these more orchid aware times, sheer weight of numbers was having a detrimental effect on the very thing we had come to enjoy, and that is not a good thing.

Over the next two days I returned twice to see the Burnt Tip and to show others, but really tried to limit the numbers and explain to all those who attended how important that we keep the site, or location secret, so the spike could set seed. Only time will tell if we did that of course.

Up near the Burnts I found another two colonies of Early Spiders, still clinging on at the end of May. These downald spikes are much later than those on the coast, and are of a darker colour too.

By Bank Holiday Monday my holiday had come to an end, and I had not visited all the sites I wanted to, neither in Kent or elsewhere. I would have to be more careful with my time next season.

The Var. choloiantha White Helleborine had opened by this time, but had been partially trodden on, so was an odd shape, but the flower and pale leaves well with a snap.

At the small wood the White Helleborines were all opening their flowers, well, some of them, including this one which was as wide as I had ever seen. This is because this species self polinates, so does not have to open its flowers for pollinators, sometimes, its just for the fun of it.

And the few Birds Nest were also at their peak, including this one caught in a beam of sunlight.

Or closer up:

At the new-found meadow, the Greater Butterfly were beginning to open, but I would fail to see many of them open, or the site of the hillside a sea of dancing green and white spikes due to the pressure of work, as the next day, I had to travel back to Denmark as work and real life was calling me.

The hot weather, if anything, turned even warmer, baking the soil all over the South East as hard as concrete and depriving plants the water they need to grow Many orchids can skip a season or two if the conditions are bad, and near the coast where on a good year there are hundreds of Bee Orchids, there was less than ten this year, most growing in the shade of bushes that must have kept some moisture in the soil.

I did see a few Bee on June 2nd, but it was a poor show all told.

This one freshly opened, just waiting for its first visitor:

Also on the 2nd, it was a busy day, I went back up the downs and found another small colony of Late Spiders, right beside a busy path, just growing in the shade of an old shed, unnoticed by everyone, whilst nearby their better know brothers and sisters are kept behind an electrified fence to keep errant snappers at bay.