Monday 30th July 2018

And back to work. And back to work with there being rain again outside, literally water falling from the sky. The garden is still brown, however.

And it is cool, cold enough even to close some of the windows, but this is only temporary, as more sunshine is expected from Tuesday afternoon into the weekend.

But there is always work. Always work.

The weekend always seems to go by so quick, can we not have three day weekends to get everything squeezed in? I like the idea of being able to reduce to a four day week or something.

We can but dream.

I get down to work at eight, and the never ending summer holiday in DK enters its third week, with very few of us about, which means those of us who have tasks can actually get them done.

I had slept badly, however, and with less than four hours sleep, on top of what I missed in the hot weather last week, I was running on empty. I knew that at some point a migraine was likely, and even with limiting my time at the computer, it would come in time.

In between tasks online, I prepare and bake a limoncello and grappa tart, filled with two punnets of raspberries, and laced with 150ml of Italian liqueurs. Once baked, I let it cool in the over before moving ot to the fridge to chill, and be able to be cut for desert in the evening.

The migraine came just after half one, I set an out of office message and switch the laptop off, and go to bed to lie in the dark.

The afternoon passed.

At four, I go for a walk. Just over the fields to see what was in flower, and maybe to see some butterflies. And was rewarded with the most butterfly-filled walk, ever.

Across the fields to the footpath between the trees and garden fences, and in the buddleia there were Gatekeepers, Commas, Holly Blues, a Peacock, A Small Tortoiseshell, Red Admirals, and on the way back I saw what looked like a large Comma, but was a Fritillary, a Silver Washed Fritillary.

I watched it circle, then settle on a leaf right in front of me, so I snap away like crazy, and I also snap several Commas too, and Common Blues in the glade just along the path.

Well worth the walk out.

I meet a neighbour on the way back, he was walking his dog, so I asked him about why they are selling their house, as the for sale board has been up a few months. Well, he says, I have been diagnosed with terminal cancer, there are only for areas of my body it hasn't been found.

There are no words, of course.

He is OK with it, well as can be expected, and his treatment seems to have stopped its advance. They told me to stay out of the sun, but how much worse can it get, he joked. Indeed.

We have the shoarma that we did not eat on Sunday, for dinner, with some boiled corn and the rest of the runner beans from out garden, although some had gone a tad stringy.

Still good though.

And as darkness fell, I cut the tart, made fresh coffee, and sat down to sample what I had created. And it was wonderfully rich and fruity. And boozy.

Eight months to go

In Brexit, there is little that is certain.

One thing that is certain is that unless the Government either delays the implementation of A50 notification or withdraws it, or petitions the EU27 to do so, the UK will leave the EU at 23:00 on 29th March 2019. That is seven months and 30 days from now.

Other than that certainty, there is guesses, predictions. Some of these are better than others, some are not. But anyone who tells you that whatever happens after Brexit is what they forecasted will not be telling the truth.

There is time for things to change, and change they will. I think there will be a political crisis that will either result in May being replaced or there being an election. But I have predicted twice weeks where I thought may would fall, and she survived. So, just guessing on my part.

Various areas of industry have been ramping up pressure, explaining how, from freight haulage to the ready made sandwich industries, Brexit will cause them considerable trouble This didn't stop some headbangers linking "big sandwich" to Ireland and smelling a conspiracy. And to think UK used to be looked on for sobre leadership, now there is conspiracies in Pret's sandwiches, apparently.

And today, Dover District Council and Kent County Council had impact assessment documents leaked to Sky News, in which DDC states that it will not be ready and real concern over no plan B. That and there is no space for any additional facilities in the Eastern Docks. And the Brexiteers state that UK is ready for a no deal. Of course for them it is just an abstract concept, but then like everything Brexit, when you look into any detail, you will see that there is no detail, no plan At all. Never was either, and from people whose entire careers was for this moment, this act, and they had no plan.

That, in a nutshell, is Brexit.

Sunday 29th July 2018

It is amazing how quickly things change. 48 hours previously, the thermometer nearly exploded with the extreme heat, but come Sunday it was cool, breezy and heavy rain forecast for later.

Earlier this week, I had answered a post in the Hardy Orchid Society forum regarding Violet Helleborines. An orchid.

So it came to pass that at eight I was to meet a gentleman from Essex in the village and take home for some hard core orchiding.

Jools and I have coffee, get dressed so I can leave the house at half seven to look for the final orchid of the season, Autumn Lady's Tresses. I drive to the cliff, and park, spend ten minutes looking for the tiny rosettes, but I cannot find any. What I do see is thanks to the lack of mowing is a good collection of dwarf Lady's Bedstraw, a few Harebells and a Dwarf Thistle of two.

But the wind is already building, and I have to meet the guy in the main car park in the village, so drive back to the church and wait.

Mike arrives on time, and after loading his gear and crutch into the car, we drive off into the Kent hinterland, down narrow lanes to the oh too familiar parking place. We unloaded our gear and take to the path, walking gently up, along the edge of the wood until it turns steeply, and there is the first of two clumps, both with spikes partially open. All pale flowered and purple stemmed.

We take our shots, then walk further before striking out into the wood where there are two more open spikes, with many more yet to open.

Mike is very happy, and on the way down to the car I tell him about the Yellow Birdsnest that was found, and he asks if we could see it, so once back at the car we drive out onto the A2 past Caterbury and up the motorway before turning down towards Maidstone.

By now the grey cloud had produced rain, and was getting heavier, so much so that by the time we reach the wood, it is a quick dash to see the small pipes, get a shot and dash back. Too wet to go and see the Broad Leaved in the meadow beyond.

Back into the car and driving back to St Maggies, pausing only to show him the BirdsNest wood just off the A2, and arriving home just before midday.

We make our farewells, but he is coming back in September, and I have been invited for a cuppa down in the Bay.

I go home to have lunch of insalata, and end up making some spicy potato bread, as I failed to see the small seeded loaf we bought the day before.

Cheese, tomatoes, basil, bread out of the oven and a few glasses of plonk de plonk. Perfect. As Ll I had to do was stay awake to see the final stage of Le Tour.

Round and round they go, up and down Le Champs D'elise, with Sky Rider, Geraint Thomas, getting the title having worn the yellow jersey for a week or so. And although I had only seen four days of raing, it seemed a very good race this year, lots of action and many great performances, and in Thomas a humble winner, who was as loyal to the tam and Froome as it is possible, and now he is a grand tour champion.

We don't have a big dinner, just chicken in a bun and salad, listening to the radio before slouching in front of the TV to watch a documentary about digging a huge sewer. We know how to live, and somehow, the weekend had slipped by again....

Saturday 28th July 2018

And although it is just 13 days since the world cup final was played, already the new season is almost upon us, and Norwich were playing in south east London, Charlton, too close to home to not go. And also the chance to catch up with my old RAF buddy, ian, who sadly lost his longtime partner, and friend of mine, Michelle in the cold dark days of February to agressive back cancer. Due to work and my poor planning, I have not had chance to see Ian since Michelle passed away, so as I knew he was going, I would meet up.

It had rained most of the night, but although the ground was wet, all was still brown, new growth will come, but it will take time.

We go to Tesco, rush round as with me needing to catch a train to that London, no time for dawdling. We had to come home through Pineham and Guston, due to massive tailbacks for the port, we only got round the roundabout going to Tesco, and the A2 was jammed once we left.

Back home I cook bacon butties and Jools puts the shopping away, so that come half nine, I was ready to go. Only that with some recalculation, I realised I did not have to catch the train in 15 minutes, but the one an hour later.

So come twenty past ten, Jools takes me down the hill to Martin Mill, I get my ticket and wait on the platform in the sunshine. OK, it was sunny, but a breeze was blowing which did at least mean it wasn't so hot, so that there was no need to carry water or juice with me.

I get a seat so watch the countryside go by as we drop down into Dover and along the coast to Folkestone. And by the time we departed for Ashford, there was barely any seats left, and out of Ashford it was standing room only. Just like a peak service, but with shorts and flip flops.

I carry on watching out of the windows, as the passengers had got on talked loudly and drank from cans of Tenants, but not super strength, which was nice.

I fight my way off at Stratford, and made my way up the escalator, then along to the DLR station where a train was waiting, and my inner child was thrilled to find one of the seats at the front was empty, so that's where I sit, so I can see the view out of the front of the train.

The change this time was that once the train arrived at London City Airport, I stayed on until the line dived beneath the ground and under the river to arrive at the end of the line in Woolwich.

There is a set of stairs leading to the BR line, so I walk onto the up platform to wait for a train to take me the two stops to Charlton.

A ten car train arrived, with more than enough seats for us all, and it rattles though the terraced and close knit housing that stood against the line.

Charlton stands beside the river, and climbs the ancient riverbank and valley sides heading south, whatever stood by the main road before, has been swept away and a huge retail park now stands; a large Sainsbury's and Boots and other shops, just down the street is a large Marks and Spencer. There is rubbish everywhere, so has a down at heel feel. But what it also has is police. Lots of police.

I was due to meet Ian at a pub near the station. It was closed. For good.

Three police stand by it at the junction with the main road, so I ask them where the nearest pub is.

The Rose of Denmark they tell me, but that is for home supporters only. You are best to go straight to the ground. It is just after one.

I walk to the Rose and find three picnic tables outside, two are occupied by Norwich fans, and the other empty. So, I get a pint and one for Ian, take to the empty table and watch the traffic go by.

Ian arrives, and turns out all sitting outside are friends, so I am introduced to all, and we toast the new season. Inside the pub there is one Charlton fan wearing colours, most City fans are wearing yellow and green, but there is no trouble. In fact you wouldn't know there was a game on as business is so slow, we get served easily enough when our glasses are empty, and we get no trouble.

At twenty to three we walk to the ground, back to the closed pub, past that and down a side street, passing dozens of policemen, for on horseback, and no trouble at all. I ask one, do you know something we don't? We're just little ol' Norge. "Standard operating procedures" is the answer, given with theatrical eye rolling.

Inside the ground we have another pint, whilst we can hear the teams running out onto the pitch, so we go into the stand, and find two whole sides are closed, and the stand to the left is half filled with home fans in the bottom enclosure. THe back half of our stand is also fenced off.

The game kicks off, with no real noise, and that's how it continues. City do get the ball in the net, but is ruled out due to offside.

That was as good as it got in the first half.

In the second it was little better, but Charlton score with a deflected toe punt. Norwich push forward, getting more urgent towards the end, but apart from one header that is turned onto the bar, that is it. A 1-0 defeat, and next week the season starts for real.

I say goodbye to Ian, and walk up the stand, back to the station where I find I have lost my smart card, and the ticket back home too.

I can pay using my bank card, so can get back to Stratford, and after sweet talking the guy on the gate, he stamps my receipt to say he is letting me on the train without a ticket, and the guard on the train should accept that.

Being a twelve car train, the guard was in the back half, so no ticket check, I just had to get off Ashford station, as that is where Jools was going to meet me.

She arrived 20 minutes late saying the traffic in town and along the motorway was even worse than in the morning. So, using my phone and live Google maps, we were able to steer a course to Folkestone, then along the Alkham Valley, to the castle and finally along Reach Road to home. As we went over Jubilee Way, traffic was stationary all the way to the roundabout, and people were standing outside their cars, waiting.

There's no deal and then there's the real no deal

It seems that the UK Government was forced to withdraw its 70 or so technical notices to households and businesses regarding preparations needed for the no deal deal, in case it scared the electorate and would question what the point of a no deal, or even Brexit was for.

In related news, the headbangers have accused the Government of being overly negative about the effects of no deal Brexit, and is trying to undermine the will of the people.

Irony overload.

I am at a loss now to say where the UK will go from here. What we can say that, as ever, Brexit will happen by operation of international law and the mechanism of the calendar on 29th March. 2019. If UK is ready or not.

A reminder to keep this in mind when reading those "undermining Brexit" headlines from the Mail and Express, only the Government and Brexiteers with their lack of planning and lies have undermine Brexit, no one else could, or has. As many of us have said what a disaster it would be, and day by day are being proved right. Today, Deutsche Bank moves half is passporting offices from London to Frankfurt, and even if Brexit were to be cancelled, those jobs and the taxes that business brings to the UK is gone forever.

If the public are not to be warned on how to prepare for Brexit day, then the shock will be even greater.

As the government expects someone else, other than itself, to do the food stockpiling, the question is, who will do it, where will the food be stored, and who will distribute it? As most food manufacturers now rely on just in time deliveries, and produce chill to cook ready meals, these will not be able to stockpile foods with a short life, and with little chance of what the produce reaching consumers before the meals are life-ex.

Food that can be stockpiled are things like tinned foods, rice and pulses. Frozen food relies on the fact that there will be energy provision and planning for no deal Brexit, expect there to be some disruption. Also in gas supplies for cooking too. So, we might have to light fires in our gardens to be able to brew water for a cuppa.

This will be Brexit reality, and for us in Kent it will be worse, because even if there were to be food supplies within the UK, the same routes for trucks to supply our shops and stores will be using the same roads that trucks heading for the Tunnel and Dover port use.

Still, nine months today it all becomes reality. No avoiding that, in the end.

Weekend Brexit

The EU announced that it was rejecting a key part of May's Chequers plan, in that it would not allow a third country to collect its taxes.

This is before the UK could think of a way to design and make an IT system work.

Anyone who has followed Brexit and the EU's position, will not be surprised by this. But then that was the point of the ERG's amendments, to make May's plan unacceptable to the EU.

Meanwhile, reports in The Times today, that the Government is shelving plans to publish weekly warnings on preparations needed for a no deal, as talk thus far has alarmed the media, where instead of there being no downsides, just considerable upsides, to having to plan the Armed Forces moving essential supplies around the country.

Yesterday, (Saturday), there was strong winds in The Channel, meaning some ferry sailings got cancelled on what was the busiest day of the year as all schools in UK were now closed and family holidays were due to begin. We only just got out of the Deal Road to drive to Whitfied to get to Tesco, and we had to come back via Pineham and Guston as traffic was by then stationary.

And all day traffic built meaning that by early evening, traffic was solid between Dover and Folkestone, and up through Whitfield on the A2.

For us Dovorians, getting around on such a day is just possible, but this is going to be the norm next March, with lorries driving through the town to try to get to the front of the queue getting to the port. Only there will be no end to it. This is the reality of Brexit in Dover, and what it means for us. And as freight cannot get to the port will also mean that shops around us will have their supplies caught up in the jams too, so we will one of the first to suffer shortages.

And pretending this isn't going to happen will just make the panicking much worse when it comes. And it will come.

Friday 27th July 2018

Furnace Friday.

Pay Day

Large lake of water found on Mars.

A typical day, then.

For the past few weeks, maybe two months, I have detailed the ongoing drought here in Kent, and as time has gone on, the unbearable temperatures and our struggles to keep out corner of England watered and for us to be able to sleep.

It has seemed like the hot spell would go on forever, and scouring the long range forecast only promised more and more of the same.

We have one of those decorative thermometers, what are they called, Galileo, and has seven weights that drop when certain temperature in the living room is reached. The hottest it has ever recorded is when four weights have dropped; when we used to use the woodburner and that heated the water in the pipes to boiling point, and last week when the days go ever hotter. On Friday, all seven dropped.

And that was at eight in the morning.

I don't know, maybe it was because I was used to the temperature, if you sat still, worked at the table say, you were fine. But any moving about resulted in being drenched in sweat. I joked that Friday morning was the first time I had gone into a shower damper than when I came out! And even a cold shower brought little relief.

So I worked, finishing another important spreadhseet, and yet there was me thinking with integrated systems, spreadsheets were supposed to be a thing of the past? Not now.

The day heated up, Jools had even put the parasol up on the patio, hoping that it would partly block the light and so heat coming into the kitchen, didn't really work.

But as the day went on, it got hotter and hotter, and the poor cats had had enough, Molly again not bothering to eat in the morning.

At half one, with all in DK finished for the weekend, I did too, and went to sit on the sofa to watch the last proper stage of Le Tour. It was still hot, but not as hot as it was for the riders. I read too that in London, for the first time ever, members of the MCC were allowed not only not to wear jackets inside the ground, but did not have to wear one to enter the ground, or even have one with them!

In the end, the weather broke before records were broken, and in fact was slightly cooler than on Thursday, thunderstorms were forecasted, but we had had that before.

Jools returned home at about half three, the cycling continued, and we carried on sweating.

I had the storm radar on, and storms were bubbling up, fizzing and fading, but on course, just before five, clouds built and built, and soon rumbles of thunder could be heard. Jools called out, and as I went out, a gust front had swept from the west, bring in its wake, strong winds and a drop in temperatures of twenty plus degrees.

The sky darkened, and clouds swirled, getting lower and lower.

Then the rain began, big fat old drops, then merging into a downpour, and finally into a torrential storm. Lighting flashed, thunder shook the house, cats cowered and we stood watching the lightning play across the sky.

Wind blew, rain fell in buckets and it was dark before eight in the evening.

We watched Monty, whilst the storm fizzled out outside, getting dark before time, and shrouding the blood moon, a full moon rising in lunar eclipse, was invisible to us here, and for most of the country.

We went to bed to the sound of the rain on the car port, thinking by how much it would fill up the water butts, and knowing that it might be cool enough for some sleep.

Thursday 26th July 2018

It's getting hotter.....

It seems impossible, but it is. And tomorrow they're calling it "furnace Friday", but more of that in another post.

I wake up, and there is no hint of sunshine, and for a minute I think there might be cloud, thus keeping the temperature down. But a look out the back of the house reveals a pink sky, pink just before the sun rises. Its gonna be another scorcher.

It is a day when only the one cup of coffee is needed, early on to kick the bran cells into action, after that, just too hot. I will survive on iced squash.

Jools is all ready at half six to go to work, and the cats have already skedaddled, with Molly not even coming in for breakfast, just walked up the garden and through the car port en route to her dark and cool hiding place.

I have breakfast and so am ready for work, because with my boss and his boss away, I am therefore, the boss. A scary thought, and I have to chair a meeting, making important sounding pronouncements.

Even walking to the back door to look at the scrubland that counts for our lawn makes me hot and sweaty. This is madness.

I have first of three pints of iced squash, an early lunch of leftover aubergines and pasta, then get ready for the next meeting.

Such is the life of an international playboy and quality export.

By two in the afternoon, it is too hot too move. I am on the sofa, watching Le Tour, but the laptop on my lap is like a little over, the cooling fan heating my legs. I switch it off soon after, I think I am on course to finish my tasks this week.

So I watch and try not to move as the cyclists sweat their way through farmland and attractive villages. I have more iced squash, and am just about cool enough.

Jools brings home KFC for dinner, which we eat outside, al fresco. Which is nice.

It does cool off some, but it too hot still to go for a walk, so I water the garden whilst we're able to, so that the riot of colour we have created will go on.

And that is it, other than as we sat on the patio, a blood red near full moon rose to the south, tomorrow it will rise full in eclipse, if there are no storm clouds, we will go to the cliffs to watch.

Problems with no deal Brexit on food supply and other essentials.....

Thanks to Jonathan Lis at https://www.prospectmagazine.co.uk

1. First things first, the economy. The pound will almost certainly plummet, although it may not happen overnight as no deal would have been on the cards for some weeks before 30th March. Inflation is likely to rise sharply. Businesses will activate their contingency plans. The UK stops being seen as a reliable economic hub. More on all of this later.

2. Three million European Union citizens in the UK and one million Britons in the EU will lose all automatic rights and protections overnight. Simply, they will have no guaranteed legal status.

3. Planes will stop flying. Aviation is currently governed by the Single European Sky, European Aviation Safety Agency and aviation single market. You fall out of those, and pilots and planes lose their certification overnight. Ignore the people who think they are being original in pointing out that non-EU countries can fly planes to the EU. Non-EU countries aren’t voluntarily crashing out of their supervisory aviation mechanisms. Oh, and don’t even think about escaping to the United States. UK/US air travel is governed by an EU agreement too.

4. Food will rot. We import about half of our food and feed, and 70 per cent of that comes from the EU. The bosses of Calais and Dover have warned of 30-mile tailbacks and possible infrastructural collapse. Experts have already warned that supermarkets will soon run out of supplies. (Hence the stockpiling.)

5. On the subject of food, many farms will struggle immensely. Dairy tariffs average 40 per cent and meat tariffs can be much higher—so they won’t be exporting it to their largest market anymore.

6. Out of the single market and customs union, supply chains are severed overnight. That paralyses industry. A British-made car may depend on just-in-time components from multiple EU sources which travel across the Channel several times without tariffs or checks. The list of major products made exclusively in Britain is vanishingly small.

7. Out of the Common Fisheries Policy, there will be no legal basis for landing catches in the EU. Given that we export most of the fish we catch, many fishers will be crippled by new market blocks.

8. There is as yet no guarantee that nuclear safeguards will be in place to cover the crash out of Euratom. EDF has warned of power shortages. In an extreme scenario, Hinkley Point would have to be mothballed, resulting in a compensation claim of £22bn.

9. Radioisotopes for radiotherapy are partially governed by Euratom. More to the point, we don’t produce any and we can’t stockpile them either. Many of them will decay while waiting to clear the Channel ports.

10. We’ll be out of the single energy market, which means we’ll need to produce a lot more of our own electricity—placing significant strain on the National Grid. Northern Ireland would, it seems, require emergency generators in the Irish Sea.

11. Immediate departure from the European Medicines Agency means no more access to Europe-wide clinical trials, and no more easy regulation or access to new drugs.

12. Medicines will have to be stockpiled in the context of border chaos.

13. The end of Horizon 2020 ends research grants for labs and universities. Current projects will also be jeopardised.

14. 10 per cent of our doctors and 7 per cent of our nurses come from the EU. Many of them will simply leave the country, but there could in any case be a crisis of mutual recognition in which qualifications aren’t recognised. The same goes for vets.

15. Air pollution is currently monitored by the EU and the UK is legally obliged to maintain certain levels of air quality. Not anymore. The same goes for other environmental benchmarks involving, for example, waterways and beaches.

16. UK tourists will have any number of problems. In no particular order, they will no longer be covered by the EHIC insurance scheme, which all but rules out travel for those with pre-existing conditions; they will no longer be able to drive in the EU without an international driving licence; and they may be liable for visas to travel to the EU.

17. Pet passports will end.

18. UK lorry drivers will no longer have the permits they need to travel into the EU.

19. British consumers will lose multiple protections, whether regarding compensation for cancelled flights or rights in cancelling purchases.

20. We fall out of the EU’s Rapid Alert system that warns member states about faulty or dangerous consumer goods.

21. No digital single market means no access to EU broadcasting networks and the end of automatic free roaming.

22. Data protection falls into immediate limbo. That will prevent data sharing for policing purposes and everyday business transactions, with small businesses the hardest hit by the new regulatory burdens.

23. We leave Europol, and with it our EU-wide police and counter-terrorism cooperation ends.

24. No longer in the European Arrest Warrant, we will have no means of extraditing suspects to or from the EU. Information-sharing instruments will also no longer apply.

25. We will be out of the EU’s Common Foreign and Security Policy and European Defence Agency. That means jeopardising current operations and common procurement schemes, and the end to participation in the EU’s wide diplomatic network.

26. Financial services automatically lose their passporting rights, which allow the City of London to function as the EU’s unofficial hub for cross-border banking and financial trading. Valuable transactions will move to Paris and Frankfurt. Thousands of jobs will be on the line and the government will lose vital tax revenue.

27. Loss of passporting rights will void cross-border insurance policies. Passported pension payments to, for example, British expats in Spain, may not be legal.

28. Numerous professional qualifications will become useless as mutual recognition ends. Thousands of British-qualified lawyers, accountants, midwives and masseurs will be unable to practise in EU member states.

29. Students on Erasmus may have to suspend their exchange programmes and planned future exchanges will not go ahead.

30. We fall out of all our EU-brokered trade deals, damaging our trade with countries all over the world. Canada will re-impose WTO tariffs and non-tariff barriers on UK goods until a replacement deal (probably on much more favourable Canadian terms) has been agreed.

31. We lose access to the Galileo satellite programme, which could have serious consequences for GPS provision.

32. We terminate membership of each EU agency, from the European Centre for Disease Prevention and Control to the Community Plant Variety Office. These agencies cover everything from intellectual property rights to chemical regulation, and we don’t have bodies to replace them.

33. New patents will be in limbo.

34. Automatically outside the European Court of Justice, all ongoing cases involving the UK will have no legal effect.

35. Thousands of British officials working in EU institutions could lose their jobs—and their pensions. International litigation against the UK could follow—and the EU will certainly sue if the UK refuses pay its divorce settlement.

36. Last but not least, Northern Ireland gets a hard border, which breaches the Good Friday Agreement, re-inflames old tensions and wounds, and creates an active and severe security risk—as well as undermining the Northern Irish economy. Decades of hard work, meanwhile, to normalise the now excellent UK-Irish relationship will be undone overnight.

Brexit still means Brexit

All this week, Raab has been meeting with Michel Barnier, and at the end of yesterday, they held a joint news conference.

It came as no surprise that Barnier rejected, in principle, that a 3rd country might be able to collect the EU's taxes, blowing a major hole in May's White paper, meaning that one of the ERG's amendments caused this to be rejected; almost like they planned it.

It was announced that the UK had put forward a new solution to the NI/Irish border, although no details on what that might be have been released.

The most striking thing really was the tone and words used by the two men: Raab was upbeat and issued a rallying cry to Barnier, c'mon, we have work to do. But Barnier stated that UK voted to leave to take control of it's laws, money and borders. And that is what the EU wants too, control of it's laws, money and borders. It goes both ways.

I talked to my friend Rob yesterday; and he asked me what i saw happening. Well, unless there is a seismic change in Westminster and either A50 is delayed or cancelled, the UK will leave the EU on 29th March next year. I can't see any way how both main parties can survive the Brexit process. The Conservatives hare split down the middle, but are being ruled by the 60 members of the ERG, and the silent majority have just gone along with it, much to their shame. And Labour have been lead by another ideology, one that sees the EU as a bar to some kind of socialist garden of eden. When both parties are ruled by their extreme wings, where does leave the rest of the country, who are social democrats?

If Brexit happens, and is as much of a disaster as expected, or it doesn't happen for whatever reason, the country will not just shrug and get on with life. Anger and repercussions will explode, maybe not in armed insurrection, but things can never go back to how they were.

In the long term, I would like to see a return to evidence based decision making, looking at facts and risks and reaching a consensus before a way forward is decided upon.

That, and the 4th estate taking back their role of holding the executive to account. That would be nice, rather than just be the mouthpiece of extremist policies, the ERG and their owner's tax-avoiding desires.

That would be nice.

I just want to be able to work for the next six or so years, pay the mortgage off, retire and hunt orchids and butterflies all day, every day. And forget about his dreadful world we have all created.

Wednesday 25th July 2018

5 months until Christmas.

Just saying.

And just when you thin it couldn't possibly get any hotter, it does. And will continue to do so until Friday when we are hoping the weather will break with crashes of thunder and flashes of lightning.

We are awake before the alarms, as the first rays of the morning sun tough the side of the house, signalling another day for me, working from home which in the afternoon becomes the cooler from The Great Escape.

I am up first, make breakfast, coffee and feed the cats, Jools has a shower before she comes down, so is dressed and ready to go to work at quarter past six.

I know I have to do all productive work before lunch, as after lunch the house becomes unbearable, and there would be no respite on the patio, as that faces south, into the face of the burning ball of fire.

Once fed, the cats vanish. All day. Only Scully slouches back for some lunch and then creeps back out again.

Officially, it was the first two shower day of the year, and I went into the shower wetter than when I left.

Again.

Ten minutes later, it was if I had not had the shower. Hot again.

So, I send the afternoon on the sofa with my laptop on my lap, tapping away while 200 cyclists peddled like crazy for two hours, up and down three mountains in temperatures nearly as warm as here.

But they do get paid well for it.

They would have to.

Once they reached the top of the third mountain and the race ended, I sprang into action, peeling and slicing aubergine before preparing them for dinner to go with yet more pasta salad.

It was also a two beer day, one with dinner and the other sitting out on the patio as the sun had moved round and the chairs were in the shadow of the hedge.

We fritter the evening away, temperatures drop a little, but not much.

We try to go to bed early to get some sleep. Precious sleep. It was not yet dark.

Summer Brexit fun

The UK Parliament has gone on its holibobs and won’t be back in session until September 4th, and then conference season begins. Coupled with the fact it is also holibob season in Europe, not much will happen for the next few weeks.

Other than the PM and her band of Brexiteers found that backing up the threat of no deal Brexit with actually planning for it reveals that she has been wearing the emperor’s old clothes all along.

As May was forced to say, nothing to worry about, but we are stockpiling food and medicine just in case supplies are disrupted.

Of course there will be disruption, especially to radioactive isotopes as in the A50 notification letter, the Government specifically stated it would be leaving EURATOM too. As I have said previously, there was a good reason for this, but then that reason is somewhat reduced when it turns out the main reason was that it is overseen by the UCJ, and May probably got that confused with the ECHR, and rather admit to a mistake, she ploughed on.

Without being in EURATOM, there is no way to obtain and transport fissile materials needed for research and cancer treatment, and despite it being mentions when the A50 was published, the Government did nothing to act on this. So now there is the danger that there might be reductions in cancer treatment in parts of the country. Or all of it.

And this is just one area. Wherever you look, there are areas of the economy and society that automatically rely on the EU for part of its operation, and every single one of those will have to have the EU’s role replicated, and where appropriate, recognised by the international community; certifying of aircraft engineers, for one.

The time taken to set up from scratch to being able to function will be variable, but in the event of no deal they will have to be up and running in nine months. This is why the budget airlines have moved their operations to other countries.

How arbitration is handled is critical; the EU has the ECJ, but to May and many headbanger, this is unacceptable as it is part of the EU and has the word “European” in its title.

If only the Brexiteers hadn’t have had enough of experts, or at least listened to them rather than putting their fingers in their ears screaming “project fear, project fear”.

Tuesday 24th July 2018

Back at Christmas, it looked like we were losing Molly. At the beginning of January, she had an operation and she revored well, so much so it was hard to believe it was the same cat.

However, for the past few weeks, we have been concerned; she has been salivating more, her right eye has been weeping slightly, and then on Monday when I went to give her a pill, after touching her mouth she recoiled like she was in a great deal of pain.

So, I booked an appointment at the vets, this meant I needed the car so Jools made arrangements to catch the coach to work, and we had to be up and on to road by twenty to seven.

Jools was up first, and grabbed Molly and popped her in a basket, covered it with blankets so she would be ready for the appointment.

Jools is ready to I take her to the port to catch the coach, and I return home to have breakfast and do some work until it is time to take Molly to the vets at half nine.

And it is hot. Really doesn't need to be said any more, but it was hot. Already at half seven. I close most of the curtains around the house and have a cold shower.

Come half nine, I take Molly in the box tot he car and drive to Whitfied to the vets, I get in quick, but soon it is decided she needs an x ray, and their guy is on holiday, so I have to take her to Canterbury, to a place on the edge of the city to wait to be seen.

Once there she has to be sedated, then x rayed and the results reviewed, she be brought round, and the news was, she was OK, nothing major in infection, but given some antibiotics, and some drops for her eye, and that was it. We could go home.

Thing is, each time we take her to the vats, we get the feeling it could be her last journey. Silly I know, but she is such a part of my, of our, life that it would hurt like hell. That we have more time with her is wonderful.

And once we are back home, I feed her and she is more lively than I have seen her for weeks. She even comes back during the afternoon for more food and cuddles. I think this is because it was cooler; a thin layer of cloud had drifted over and took the top of the temperature.

Which was nice.

I do some work sitting on the sofa so I could keep an eye on Le Tour on the TV. Good stuff with the penultimate mountain stage, and Britons in 1st and 2nd in GC. Heady times. But the French crowd are booing any member of Team Sky; I'd like to think that jealousy.

Once that is over, I prepare dinner; cook pasta salad and prepare the aubergine; I mean it is that time of year when this is a perfect dinner, so am finishing up egg and breadcrumbing the aubergine slices when it was time to collect Jools from martin Mill.

We eat dinner listening to I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue, then watch an episode of Who do You Think you Are, and by then it was half eight, nearly nine by the time we tidy up and water the garden.

Where does the time go?

Project fear? This is Project reality, I presume.

Yesterday the new, but downgrounded Minister for DExEU was before the Brexit sub-committee, and he admitted that he was working to secure there was an adequate food supply. Quite how this chimes with the much promised sunlit uplands. With this some nine months before the actual Brexit day, or not depending on your definition of that, or if it actually happens. But if a Minister is saying these now, come the new year will there be ration books and clothing stamps?

Maybe they should have written that on the side of the bus and had a different outcome in the referendum.

But that wasn't the point, promise them the world and deliver ashes and bitter tears.

On top of that the Government is also planning on stockpiling medicines and human blood products.

Now to me, this is sounding more and more like Brexit is turning into a pretty poor idea. And if only someone had pointed this out to the Brexiteers before now.

Oh yeah, they did. And the Brexiteers said they'd had enough of experts. Yeah, bloody experts and their facts, what do we need them for?

And a potential storm is blowing up on whether UK can replicate the EU schedules under WTO rules, and might have to negotiate new ones, from scratch, of any country object to this.

Oh, deep joy.

Monday 23rd July 2018

It is hot.

We are melting.

Please send ice.

Back in 1976 we had a drought, weeks and weeks of sunshine, hot temperatures. Grass turned brown and died, I spent six weeks in the beach, turned into a Jawa, but I remember it being fun.

2018 and this is pretty much the same, other than most of the rest of planet is baking too, over 40 people killed in Japan, terrible forest fires in Greece, and hosepipe bans in Lancashire. In fact it is getting hotter here, with a weather warning regarding not going out between ten and four during the day each day until Saturday.

It is already hot when we get up, although the sun rises later now, once it shines into the side window of the living room, temperature rises, then during the day, shines on the back of the house, turning those rooms into ovens.

Too hot to go outside, too hot to do just about anything once eight in the morning is past, and is like that until the sun dips after seven.

Night times are no better, not dropping below 20 degrees, so sleep is all but impossible, but the lump of feline flesh that is Scully just makes that impossible as we both chase the coolest part of the bed.

No one is sleeping well, so we are grumpy, coffee is too hot in the mornings, so we go straight on the gin. Saves time.

I know it's winter on the other side of the globe, but I would swap one day of this for just some cool breezes, some drizzle and a keen wind from the north.

The long range forecast has no rain for the next two weeks, just the possibilities of some storms on Friday. Which will be nice, and disappointing as that is when there is a lunar eclipse.

So, for now, we snooze when we can, and lust after air conditioning, as there is little need for it usually here.

So we sweat, melt, glow our way through the days here, knowing that it will end sometime, and we can then start on moaning about how cold, windy or wet the weather is now.

Work is the same. Depending on who you want to speak to, its either their first, second or third week of vacation, and so you can at least get some tasks done, inbetween showers, iced mint juleps or ice creams.

The cats disappear for eight hours, from six until at least four, cursed with not being able to take their fur coats off, so they seek out places dark and cool, meaning I do not get disturbed while I work. But then there is always the internet to distract me.

Lunch is fried cold mashed potato, which is then crispy and hot, along with the rest of the chorizo hash. I really wanted wine or beer too, but thought that too cavalier.

So I have squash so am able to be partly productive in the afternoon.

Jools comes home at half five, I have made pasta bolognese ala Jelltex, using one of the Scotch Bonnet chilis we have grown, so it has some zing.

There is the garden to water, while we can, and then sit down in the evening shade to ponder when the next ice age is due.....

Hello, is that Brexit, this is reality calling.....

Where to start, really?

The Government’s Withdrawal Bill, in which it outlined the timetable and set into law the Brexit Day and how domestic law was to change, was published a few weeks ag, but today, has been amended before it actually came into force. Which is some kind of achievement.

The Withdrawal Act would replace the European Communities Act (1972), but the change now is that the EEC Act would remain in place until the end of 2020. Not clear whether Government is using the laughable annul then reinstate the Act at the same moment, or just is extending its life.

"On exit day (29 March 2019) the EU (Withdrawal) Act 2018 will repeal the ECA [European Communities Act]. It will be necessary, however, to ensure that EU law continues to apply in the UK during the implementation period. This will be achieved by way of transitional provision, in which the Bill will amend the EU (Withdrawal) Act 2018 so that the effect of the ECA is saved for the time-limited implementation period. Exit day, as defined in the EU (Withdrawal) Act 2018, will remain 29 March 2019. This approach will provide legal certainty to businesses and individuals during the implementation period by ensuring that there is continuity in the effect that EU law has in the UK during this time. The Bill will make provision to end this saving of the effect of the ECA on 31 December 2020.”

If I am right, this means that in International law, the UK will be out of the EU, but in Domestic Law, EU law, jurisdiction will remain in force.

This is another one of May’s unforced errors that could and should have been anticipated by May and her Cabinet, but was not. SO we have another embarrassing climbdown, and gives the headbangers in the ERG more ammunition to shoot at the PM.

And then there was an announcement on a change in the machinery of Government; the PM herself will take the lead in negotiations with the EU, backed by the Cabinet Office, and the DExEU will focus only on domestic matters, meaning it has effectively ceased to be. It is an ex-department.

This was the plan once DD resigned, apparently, but Raab going off message in threatening to withdraw payments apparently did not endear him to the PM.

So, a day of high farce on the last day of Parliament before the summer recess, and then the chaos will continue, just without the slight oversight it has had thus far.

No news from the alternative PM, JRM, but I’m sure they’ll have plenty to say, none of it making any real sense.

And Labour is no better shape, with Corbyn still stating a Brexit Bonus and that removing foreign labour will raise wages. Like he doesn't understand the situation.

Unforced error after unforced error, on both sides, it really is like they don't know what they're doing. And yet it is these fuckwits that think they can negotiate with the EU and then countries like the USA, China and Japan to get "better" trade deals than the one they already have has part of the EU. May has shown she can't negotiate with her won party, Cabinet, the ERG or even one of her own backbenchers. Her only bit of luck is that the EUK know they have to try to keep her in power lest the house of cards in Westminster would collapse and put either JRM or Corbyn as PM.

Only saving grace now is that there is no real reason why the UK leaves the EU next March, it will only be an illusion as we will be subject to all of its rules and standards for 21 months, and even then UK will not be ready for Brexit.

Sunday 22nd July 2018

I woke up just before eight, an amazingly late time for me. Jools had been up for two hours working in the garden and generally being quiet.

She declared it was too hot for anything, I went out onto the patio, and had to agree. Certainly already too hot to climb up Temple Ewell Down to look for Silver Spotted Skipper and other butterflies. Let's be honest, they'll be there next week. So, that and a stomp though Barham were scrubbed, so the main task then was to avoid direct sunlight, and me get a haircut.

We have coffee, another coffee and croissants, and by then it was gone ten, so time to pop over into Folkestone, with me thinking we had missed the air festival, but as we were to find out, it spread out over two days, and was going to be busy as heck. But into the town centre, we find a parking space, although down by the harbour there were plenty of men with sandals and socks on, milling about to see the first of the air displays.

I have nothing against such things, but I saw enough aircraft in my 15 years in the RAF meaning I am not going to stand on the promenade in 30 degree heat for six hours to see the Sparrow (Red Arrows).

I make my way from the car park, up the top of the old HIgh Street to find there was no one waiting, so I could get in the chair right away. I asked blokey to cut as much off as last time, then 50% more; don't be frightened, it grows back.

So he gets the shears out and I am several pounds lighter, or so it feels.

Ten quid well spent.

And after deciding we were not going to go for a walk down by the harbour, we walk back to the car and get out of town.

We cruise back home up the A20, arriving home just after eleven, time then to get the cheese and tomatoes out of the oven for caprese for lunch.

Not too clever, as only wine goes with caprese, but after slicing the tomatoes, then the cheese, grind salt and pepper of them bth, drizzle with balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and that was that. Slice some bread, pour the wine, and we're set to eat.

The afternoon was just about unbearable. We do some work in the garden, but it is too much, so we settle down with a bowl of fresh raspberries and gooseberries and a brew, and that seems much better.

We water the garden in the early evening, I make chorizo hash, we open a bottle of pink fizz, and again toast our good fortune.

Two years, two weeks two days

I can remember, back in the heady days of 2016 when I wrote a comment from DAG that the last part of Brexit the UK would be in control of, was when we (as a country) submitted the A50 notification.

It comes with no satisfaction to say that this has been proved right, At every turn, the UK has had to bend to the EU's position, on occasion trying to make a defeat sound like a victory. And the one other constant has been the total failure of the Brexiteers promises to be lived up to.

From "this will be the easiest of negotiations in history", to " there will be no downsides to Brexit, only considerable upsides". And so on.

Any hint that remoaners might try to help with suggestions on how to do things differently, so to cause less friction, were met with accusations that we were talking Britain down. And that the "people" had had enough of experts.

We now have a new Brexit Minister and he is repeating the same mistakes, a mistake of playing to a domestic or Conservative audience rather than one meant for our European friends. And so the erosion of trust on anything that May or Raab might now say.

A group of Ministers are touring the EU this week, trying to drum up support for its white paper that the cabinet has only accepted after mass resignations.

And that paper contains much of what has already been rejected by the EU, so rather than constantly argue among themselves, and if only May and the Brexiteers had spent as much energy engaging with the EU, then things might have ended up differently.

There is a train of thought that says 80% of the Withdrawal Agreement (WA) has been agreed, and it is just the rest that needs to be settled. THat as may be, but the ERG headbangers are keen to have as hard Brexit as they can, because without that, the Transition Agreement (TA) could go on forever, and anyway, in 50 years time the UK will be back in the EU.

If we ask nicely.

So where the UK ends up depends on how the Conservative party holds up, whether May can cling on to power, of there is a coup by the ERG. Or there is an election and Comrade Corbyn is PM. Don't get me wrong, I am a socialist, but also a realist. Corbyn is a big a fan of Brexit as DD or any Tory headbangers. Until there is change on Labour there can be no real opposition to it.

The new DD

Yesterday, it emerged at the new Minister for DExEU, Dominic Raab, might have been acting against the policy of the Government when he suggested that UK might not pay the £39 billion "divorce" bill if UK dd not get a trade deal.

This is a typical mistake that Brexiteers make, thinking that by threatening they have great leverage.

The bill, part of the first three issues that needed to be agreed before talks moved on to trade, is not a payment for something, but a settlement on UK's current commitments that it would have made were it to remain in the EU. This the UK accepted in December and again in March. To renege on this now would be a major mistake, signaling that the UK's word could no longer be trusted on the world stage. And at a time when UK would have to negotiate new trade deals with not just the EU, but countries all over the world, and if our word cannot be trusted, or that UK had failed to live up ti its responsibilities, then what would that make other countries think?

Either Raab was or wasn't acting outside Government policy or the PM's approval; either way it will worry the EU as either Raab has already gone rogue, or a significant change by the UK Government. Will be interesting to see how the EU now acts on this. The White Paper in itself, although some of which is unacceptable, was seen as a realistic starting point, but the UK now changing tack once again might mean the end of talks altogether.

The Government is saying it is now planning for a No-deal scenario, which is news for us in East Kent, and us Dovorians in particular, as there is no real preparations for that here, and it is here that Brexit will be felt first and hardest. Lorry holding areas, new customs and immigration facilities are needed, hundreds and hundreds of staff and a computer system for them to use are needed before the end of March, and it all needs to work, and the customs checks, paperwork and regulations followed would need to be accepted by the EU.

None of that is in place, as it would take about 5 years for all that to be in place, even if there was a computer system that could be used off the shelf. As it is, there will be chaos.

The Government is going to publish something like 60 technical instructions to homes and businesses in the next few weeks, on how to prepare for a no deal. When pushed if this meant details on stockpiling food, Raab would not be drawn, but neither did he deny it either.

Food, fuel, medicines and much of what is imported will be quickly in short supply. There is less than a week's supply of food in the country, and within a few days, there will be great shortages.

Energy is highly likely to be rationed, electricity and gas rationed, so those working will have their hours curtailed. It will be like 1973 all over again, because I'm sure that's what the people voted for.

And yet the Brexiteers will try to blame the EU for this, with their unicorn laced plans for Brexit having been rejected at every turn by the EU. All they wanted was unicorns, cake and eating it.

Still, not much at stake is there?

Saturday 21st July 2018

Here comes the weekend.

And another one of the never-ending cloudless hot sunny days we have become accustomed to, Friday excepted, of course.

And for reasons that will become clearer later, had yet more orchids on my mind. This I broached to Jools, and tempered that with a walk in the woods, butterflies, other wildflowers.

So she said yes.

As you may have guessed, the morning began with coffee and then round up the shopping bags for the weekly battle in Tesco.

We both go, and plan our shopping like a black ops operation, both going hither and thither to hunt and gather fine foods for the week. And Doritos and dips for Saturday night.

As you do.

We are back at home just before nine, and as Jools puts the shopping away, I cook bacon for breakfast. Bacon on a Saturday? I know, a radical change!

That all done, washing up completed and all put away, I gather the cameras so we can go to the car and drive out to Denge.

Again.

Two days ago, we were in Denge looking for Broad Leaved Helleborines (an orchid), we found them, but as often happens, during processing I realise that two of the plants were different. Most orchid species can hybridise with relatives species, so it seemed these might be the offspring of the BLH and Violet. Only way to check it out was to return so to snap all parts of the plant, and see if it was wholly one or the other, or bits of both.

This did mean repeating the walk through the woods, being dazzled by the plethora of butterflies and dragonflies on the wing.

A morning walk meant that part of the track was in the shade from the shadow of the woods, meaning where should be maxed out with butterflies, but being in shade, not much about. But further along, as the track bent round to the right, sunlight lit both sides of the track, and there was more than enough butterflies for even me.

Again there were many Brimstones about, I was able to snap another male feeding, and a female resting.

There were plenty of Gatekeepers, Large Whites and Skippers, Commas, and to my delight, a large Fritillary, a Silver Washed was seen resting, so for ten minutes I was a slave to butterfly mania until I had a half decent shot.

We walk on, up the slope beside the bank until we come to the spot where the small group of orchids were, and between a few BLH were the two smaller potential hybrids. Not only with the features of both species, but the location where only a BLH would grow, and yet clearly had Violet flowers. All I could do was take pictures, post to forums later, but having seen the plant myself I am convinced that it is a hybrid, other have voiced their doubts, but then this is par for the course for orchidists.

We walk back to the car, stopping a regular intervals for more butterflies until we were back at the car.

And that was it, we drive back along the narrow lanes to the A2, then back home, along the road to the port which was amazingly quiet for the first day of the summer holidays.

We arrived back home, I make dinner, and with the sun beating down outside, we shelter from the hot sunshine in the cool shade of our living room, listening to the end of the Huey show as the afternoon faded into early evening.

During the afternoon I harvest the gooseberries on the three small bushes we have, having more than enough for a mid-afternoon treat. I cook tem up with a sprinkling of suger and a little water, then serve with some salted caramel ice cream, which works very well indeed.

I make shoarma for dinner, to have just before we leave for the bright lights of Whitfied for an evening of cards and betting for pennies.

Jools and I are on a losing steak, and maybe £3 down over the past couple of months, so were hoping for better luck. But as it turned out, our luck did change as during one of the breaks which allowed John to have a tab, I noticed something moving on the lawn on the twilight. I go over to look, and it is a hedgehog, probably the same one we saw last time we were here, but the only one I have seen in over a decade.

He was moving well, looking for food. I put some water out for it, but it curls up, apparently not thirsty, and after a while escaped back to the safety of the large clump of pampas grass in which it made its home.

Jools and I ended up a little ahead for the evening, which is good enough, but now we have a few weeks off as football and holibobs take the place of cards.

Not my fault, Guv

One thing that has been a recurring theme through all of what we call Brexit, has been when push comes to shove, and actual leadership of a plan is needed, Brexiteers will resign to snipe from the sidelines, blaming any one, everyone, other than themselves for a lack of planning.

In the last week, DD, Boris as well as Mr Thirsty (Farage) have done so. In DD's case, as Minister for Brexit, it shows how little he learned in those two years as chief "negotiator", especially in 2018 when he spent less than 4 hours in total in talking to Barnier. His latest plan is to start negotiations from the beginning. At least I think that was the plan, its in the Sunday Express, and I won't read that, even for Brexit research.

Boris called the Irish/NI border a "red herring", when it is the most basic of issues, the UK's only land border with the EU, and how that works and whether it does work or not, is central to the GFA, doubly so when there has been a spike in violence in NI this past month.

The new DD, Dominic Raab said today, that in case the EU doesn't give UK a trade deal, the UK should refuse to pay the "divorce" settlement of £39 billion, thus ignoring the fact that is is what we owe as a result of our current commitments, and not some invoice for getting what we want.

The bill, along with the NI backstop agreement was reached in December and agreed by the Government then and in March. Not our fault that the PM and the Brexiteers failed to understand what they had agreed to. Breaking this commitment, at a time when we need to have the EU on our side as we need to negotiate dozens of trade deals, show that as a country, our word cannot be counted up, having broken all this undertakings, and will further ensure that anything now agreed will be quickly written into legal texts impossible to interpret any other way.

This Government really has learned nothing in two years, and still hopes that it can pick apart the four freedoms of the EU, despite the EU and EU industrial leader stating this is far more important to trade than a deal with the UK.

It should come as no surprise if the EU now terminates all talks until UK comes to its senses and has a united front and acceptance as to the situation its own stupidity has put itself in. Such a crisis, either economic or political is the only thing that will wreak real change and maybe a coalition of the sensible can emerge in Westminster to explain to the country the shit creek and paddleless situation we find ourselves in.

JRM was pushed to say, as a man of principle, that if Brexit brough chaos next year, he should resign. He failed to say that, but added it could take 50 years for the real Brexit Bonus to become apparent.

A message to Mr JRM, that in 50 years, the UK will have long since rejoined the EU, on worse terms than it is now, but will be back. So meaning this is all pointless and eye-wateringly expensive.

Friday 20th July 2018

It is hard to realise sometimes, that I have been with Vestas, or its various incarnations, for eight and a bit years now. And I have done a few different jobs, and until about four years ago, I used to work out of the office in Ramsgate, so I got friends with many of the folks there.

Since starting being a manager, I travel, I work from home and the Ramsgate office is much different now, but my old mate, Peter, still works there, although he has been promoted too, and is now head of H&S in the UK. for the company. We were supposed to meet up for drinkies in December, but that fell through, so after a chance meeting at LCY a couple of months back, we agreed to hold a "QHSE Meeting" in Ramsgate to coincide when the rest of the company was on its holibobs.

In the end, Broadstairs was considered the better bet, as it has three micropubs, so a plan was hatched.

I just had to get through the morning of work.

Work was fine, a little fraught, full of meetings, so I planned the work I was supposed to do last week, in next week, send off a final mail and was done at midday.

All I had to do was walk to the station.

It has been six weeks since we last had any rain, and guess when it decided to start? Yes, as I closed the back door. Too late to get a taxi, I would have to hope it got no heavier.

So it was I walk up to the top of Station Road, then down the otherside, on the road once the pavement and banks ended, all the while a steady drizzle fell, and the smell of damp earth filled the air.

Crossing the Deal road is always risky, but I was lucky that there was a gap, so got to the other side, walk down to the bottom of another dip, then up the the station, arriving with 20 minutes to spare.

I get my ticket, though needn't have bothered as the guard never left the rear cab of the train, and at Broadstairs, I was able to walk off the platform and down the path to the street.

Peter arrived a couple of minutes later, and we walk to the first pub, a railway themed place that I fitted right into. I mean beer and trains? Really, what's not to like??

We have a couple of beers, then walk down the High Street to a chippy to have some lard, then to the next place, the 39 Steps for another beer. The beer was good, but then at over a fiver a pint it bloody well should have been.

The last place was much better, lined with books, and with cheap as chips good beer, we order pints and settle down in soft chairs and talk some more.

But rescue from the beer was at hand, as Jools had driven over to collect me, so she called, and I go to the station to meet her, and allow her to drive me back through Dumpton to Ramsgate to home.

Where I then cook dinner, bangers and mash, and using a sharp knife too. I was OK, and dinner was fine, I added horseradish to the mash, and a sprinkle of ground chili, and was perfect.

The rain had stopped, but clouds hung heavy overhead, meaning it was cooler, which was nice. Nothing to watch on Netflix or the i player, so we listen to Iggy spin some tunes, then go to bed at half nine.

Saturday Brexit

The thing about being well read in most things Brexity, is that when of the Brexiteers makes something that is very complex sound very simple, then I know.

Some with newspapers, if they publish a story that look bollocks, then I can tell if it is.

But then the Sun yesterday published a story that Ireland could block UK aircraft from crossing its airspace. Thing is, that is true, or half tue, because if the UK does not have an internationally recognised aircraft inspection regime, then no UK planes would be able to file flight plans, which means they wouldn't reach Irish airspace.

JRM weighed in saying of that was Ireland's attitude, good job we're leaving the fascist EU, failing to accept that in being a leading Brexiteer, anticipating thse sorts of things and having a plan would have been good. Even essential.

Because at the end of the day, whatever clusterfuck omnishambles of a situation the UK ends up in, it will be the fault of the Brexiteers who pushed for decades without having a plan. Not even a fucking cunning plan. They have these bright ideas, get snake oil salesman to fool the country, then expect the Civil Service to make their idiotic plan work, when the venn diagram of Brexit and reality is two unconnected circles.

Latest plan is to turn the M26 into a lorry park.

The EU know that their best bet is to keep May as PM, as the alternative is either JRM or some other Brexiteer in charge, or elections.

The probably solution is an extension of A50, if there is to be a new referendum or election, otherwise, the clock is still ticking.

Thursday 19th July 2018

I was speaking to my friend Rob the other week, about how once you are in the system, there is little hope of escape. The NHS means well, but if they don't find anything the first time, they get you to go back, and back.

And so it was with Jools, they found something on her first scan, so they are digging and digging, which is good, but I think this is now the forth or fifth scan, and the biggest. But after this one, that would, or should be it. Just wait to August for the results.

As this was in the big, closed in banging machine, I said I would go along, and thankfully, I only had two meetings, bot first thing, so once the second one was done, we could go.

Thanks to Danish holidays, I am now the effective Head of Quality, in that there is no one between our level and the CEO. So, I have to chair meetings, listen, take notes even if there is nothing I could do. That done, we drive to Ashford, as Jools had some pre-op stuff to take,

I am not a hospital person, and the time lingers as we wait until it was Jools's time to go in, get checked over, then some more waiting before the scan.

I wait outside, flicking through decade old copies of National Geographic, and listen to snatches of conversation from other waiting people, until Jools returns, shaken, and we can leave. It is two, outside the sun is shining, and seems technicolour in comparison to the scenes inside.

We make our escape, along the A20 west until we come to a fine little pub we know just for a bite to eat and a drink.

We tuck into sausage ciabattas and slurp from long drinks of fruit juice, and soon the memory of the hospital fades.

From there we drive onto the motorway and up the A249, back to look for the Yellow Birdsnest again. I spoke to my friend, I had better directions, I hoped.

We park along the lane, and I go into the wood armed with my camera and begin to look, and just as I was on the point of giving up, something catches my eye. I look and there is a single spike, turned round at the top, looking very much like its Old English name, Dutchman's Pipe.

And just behind there was a group of at least half a dozen, if not more. Some had opened what counted for flowers, and they looked otherworldly. And yet these were growing less than two feet from a well used path, and yet un noticed except my my friend, and now me. Why I was really excited was that these are a "marker" species for the legendary Ghost Orchid; in that these, Violet Helleborines and Ghosts all are supposed to like the same conditions.

I was happy now.

And with it being four, too late to go back for work, we drive to Denge Wood, along the M2 to Canterbury, then down country lanes to the familiar parking space ready for the long walk to the bank.

A few short weeks ago this places was busy with people, no parking spaces, but now we were the only ones. And the wide woodland track was now overgrown on both sides, so much so there was barely room for us to walk side by side. And in the vegetations, flowers of all kinds jostled for attention, attention from butterflies. Brimstone, Large Whites, Ringlets, Gatekeepers, Skippers and so on. The Brimstones were even compliant to allow me to get some shots.

Which was nice.

It was hot, especially out in the open spaces between the wooded areas, but we press on, and instead of going into the reserve, we carry on up the track to where i knew there were some orchids.

A poor show compared to last time I was there, just half a dozen spikes in once place, but a good variation in colour, and one with an elongated lip. Now this may not mean much, but it could be a different species. One that is thought to be extinct in Kent is the Narrow Lipped Helleborine. I was right, and wrong as it turned out. It was a different species, just not that, but a Violet Helleborine instead, and one growing amongst Broad Leaved, meaning in a few years there could be some nice hybrids.

That I only saw once I was back home and editing the shots, a post on an orchid group confirmed it. Still nice though.

All that was left was the long walk back to the car, our enthusiasm flagging in the stifling conditions, but I had remembered to pack some water in the boot, so we slurped and soon felt better.

We drove back to East Kent, but instead of going home, we g to one our favourite pubs, The Old Lantern at Martin, now under new ownership, and pretty good.

There was just the four choices, so we both go for burger. They have opened up the back as a beer garden, so we go out back and take a table, and sit in the evening light, sipping our drinks until the food came.

All very nice, homemade burgers, which were really good. and washed down by some nice craft ales.

We pay and drive back up the hill, crossing the Deal road to home where the cats were demanding their dinner too.

Backstop no more

It seems that the PM has realised that the backstop position for the Irish/NI border contained in the December agreement that she, DD, the DUP, Parliament already have agreed to, cannot agree it it.

So, either the PM, DD et al did not understand what they had agreed to, which is not the case, or that there is no other option that does not wreck the economy. She has ruled out a tade border between NI and Britain, but that's what the backstop means and always meant.

She will make a speech in NI today ruling it out, thus threatening the GFA and two decades of peace.

If this is the case, then it is up to UK to come up with an acceptable alternative solution, and we are now fast running out of time for that. Failure to come up with a solution acceptable to all parties means crashing out of the EU with no WA, no transition, and a rock hard border in Ireland.

Failure to replicate the SM, CU and VAT equivalence will result in a hard border. Sorting only two of the three will result in a hard border.

These are the choices. These were always the choices. Kicking them into the long grass does not solve them.

Wednesday 18th July 2018

3rd day without football. I watched the last 10km of Le Tour.

That's about as exciting as it got. I mean you really do know the score when I work from home.

It was another glorious day, of course, and for a change I was up first, as five, so I made coffee, breakfast, fed the cats and gave molly her pill.

Meaning that Jools left the house earlier than usual, leaving me with the empty house as the cats were hunkering down. I did fid Scully later, as her and Molly have learned how to open the wardrobe door and sleep on the pile of blankets, Clever cats.

Other than that, there was six hours of downloading information from Sharepoint. I do at least finish by the end of the day, but I am only halfway through, so have the rest to do on Friday. Something to look forward to!

I have all the windows in the house wide open as we don't have air con, of course, so the only restbite is the flow of air, when there is a breeze.

The morning passes, at least the sun then doesn't shine into the side window of the house, and the living room begins to cool down.

I work the afternoon through, and am surprised when four in the afternoon arrives, and I can stop for the day. I sit on the sofa and channel flick, stopping on ITV 4 and the live feed of the final stretch of Le Tour, and it is exciting stuff. But clearly I have watched enough sport this weekend, and although I enjoyed the finish, I won't be watching tomorrow. Or today.

Once that is done, I begin to prepare dinner; aubergines don't prepare themselves you know. I wait until half five then begin to shallow fry them. I mean, I can't describe what a light and flavoursome meal it makes, and goes so well with the pasta salad, and a glass or two of red plonk de plonk.

Perfect.

And there is Monty on the TV too, so we are all showered, ready for bed and sitting down waiting for the show to start.

And then to bed, not before I slope off to the patio to sip a wee dram under the darkening skies.

A good way to end of the day.