Thursday 30th August 2018

We have reached Thursday.

And nearly the end of the summer. For the past week there has been a chill in the air, meaning that other than that really cold day, a couple of other times we have toyed with the idea of putting the heating on.

But didn't.

It is a typical working from home day.

Get up, drink coffee.

Jools gets ready for work.

I drink more coffee,

She leaves, I have breakfast, get dressed and prepare for the working day, during which I already have eight hours work and meetings planned.

And at eight, off we go. I go.

And by five past, I have lost my enthusiasm. As usual.

At then I have lunch. And some fruit at half twelve.

And more working.

I am done by half three, especially as a huge migraine struck meaning I had to sit with my eyes closed on the sofa in silence until the flashing lights ebbed away. No point in trying to work, as that would just bring another one on, so I press on off button to force the computer to power down, and I go for a walk.

Just over the fields to the butterfly copse, to see what was on the wing. Not much as it turned out, but I can stretch my legs, get some sunlight on my skin and fresh air in my lungs.

At the copse I could see dark clouds gathering, so I make my way home quickly, and so just miss a heavy shower.

For dinner we have steak and ale pie, road tatties and steamed veg, and the rest of the gravy from the weekend roast.

Marvelous.

And that was your Thursday, we watch some TV before I lay on bed from nine trying to stay awake to listen to Burnley in Europe. I make it, they don't.

Weekend Brexit

Today is the last day of August, and from Monday the political class return to work in Westminster, and about time to, as Brexit is ramping up. Steeply.

Between now and Christmas, the WA needs to be agreed, agreed on by both the EU and UK in the shape of Barnier and Raab, and then comes the ratification process.

In order to get the WA, the UK will either have to accept the fallback position on the Irish Border or come up with an alternative that is acceptable to all parties in NI politics, and then the Irish Republic and the rest of the EU while being acceptable to all political parties in London, and to both wings of the Conservative party.

Good luck with that.

However, we can guess, or even know, what sort of Brexit will happen. And we can do this by asking a simple question. Its a simple question, but the answers are very difficult.

The question is, where would Britain like the border with the EU to be.

Answer that, and what Brexit we will get is much clearer.

Either the border between UK and EU will be as it is now, or with the border in the middle of the Irish Sea, or a hard border on the island of Ireland. These are the three choices, pick one, and then which WA fits that choice.

All parties agree there should be no hard border, in which case the order will be as it is now, or down the middle of the Irish Sea.

Could Britain live with NI being part of the UK politically, but not economically? May says no, in which case the border has to be as it is now, and that means either No Brexit, or a Beno. Brexit in name only.

That the Brexiteers failed to take into account the only land border the UK has with the EU in their drive for Brexit, and still have no answers show how useless they all are.

If the UK crashes out and UK then breaks its word on the fallback option, then this would make the UK's position in global trade very much weaker, our word would no long be our bond, and trade deals would be worse, with much tougher clauses. But I'm sure the Brexiteers have thought of this.

And finally, overnight, Trump threatened to take the US out of the WTO; he is already blocking appointments to the mediation judges, and so where would that leave the Brexiteers statements that the UK would be just fine under the WTO if Trump destroys it first, or worse, after the UK leaves the EU?

Just when you think it couldn't get any madder.

Wednesday 29th August 2018

Another day working from home, and not much of any importance to report.

Not only working from home, but the weather forecast was awful, with hours and hours of torrential rain. And not quite getting light enough not to have the table lamp off.

Jools makes coffee so that when I come down to the living room, I am presented with a fresh cup of java, and all is right with the world, or would be if I didn't have to have to work in less than two hours. But if nothing else, I know how to fritter time away, and soon enough I have to start as I have an important meeting to attend at eight.

Through the day I make a fresh bowl of radu, starting off with the tomato sauce, laced with garlic, then adding onion and fresh diced courgette from the Jelltex garden, before browing sausage meet and letting the mix bubble for an hour or three. I have to add a few glugs of grog to keep it liquid enough, smelt lovely I have to say.

And a bloke who delivered a package of wildflower seeds even remarked on the fine smells.

Who am I to argue.

Outside the rain began to fall, and just kept going all day. Sounds of the world were dimmed, and the cats even gave up catching a series of fledgeling Goldfinches offering them each to me for my lunch. I make do with pate and salt n vinegar sandwiches.

As you do.

The day peters out, I watch some crap TV whilst I pretend to work with my laptop on my lap.

At five I put the pot of pasta sauce on a low heat to bubble, put the pasta on to boil and make garlic bread with half a stale loaf of corn bread, which all turns out pretty darn amazing even if I say so.

We toast our luck and tuck in, whilst outside the rain stops and the clouds clear, bathing the Dip in some late afternoon golden sunshine. But dark by half seven now, and feels chilly. But we do kid ourselves by eating a praline Magnum out on the patio and sup from a fresh brew as the birds sing for their supper and the day fades.

I listen to more footy; Forest v The Toon, and Forest run out 3-1 winners, which seemed to upset Newcastle. Oh well.

Time for bed.

Thursday Brexit

A story emerged yesterday that the French President was pushing for the EU to do a “deal” with the UK. The pound leaped in value on the news. And yet this is nothing new, it is something that either someone in the EU or Barnier has said this most weeks, but the WA, the “deal” if there is one to be done, will be in conjunction to the EU rules and regulation, and in particular the four freedoms. And before that, the finalisation on the agreement reached in December for the divorce settlement, citizen’s rights and the Irish border.

If all of the above can be agreed, then some kind of WA can be reached, but it is impossible to see that any compromise on the four freedoms, citizen’s right, divorce settlement and Irish border.

And the blithe insistence by Brexiteers, like JRM, that no deal would be good, or even an acceptable alternative to a WA or that no deal is better than a bad deal is clearly a lie. And always was. In terms of exports, there has been no preparation here in Dover, and for the port to be ready would need years of planning and building work, otherwise there is just chaos and dozens of miles or parked freight on Kent’s motorways.

On top of that you have the Channel Tunnel, all other ports, airports, keeping planes flying, truck drivers able to work in the EU, cancer treatment and all other medicine supply and approval. And all the other things the EU does for us as a matter of course. It would take near on a decade to sort everything out so the exit from the EU smooth.

But even if the UK and EU reach agreement, not only does the EU27 have to ratify it, May has to get it by her own party, and the ERG in particular, and seem to have no qualms about forcing a no deal. What happens at the Tory party conference at the end of September will shape the UK’s path towards March 2019, or will bring may down. Or something inbetween.

Tuesday 28th August 2018

Back to work.

After a three day weekend.

And if I am honest, which I always try to be, the day started off a little odd. I come down, make coffee, and sit down to switch the computer on to find that a former colleague, working on an onshore windfarm in Japan, messaged me asking that I call him as soon as I am up! Now, I have not seen the guy since May last year, so I have no idea what's wrong.

I spend the next half an hour trying to get my work headphones to work on my home PC. But clearly that was more difficult that landing on the moon, so in the end I power up the work laptop and call Henrik. He wasn't online, but then I couldn't hear any sounds, so I call my fiend Tony in NZ to see if it would work, as he was online. I called him, but also got no answer as he had just that second to drive to work.

I thought no more about it, but Tony when he got into work saw that I had tried to call and was worried that I had bad news.

I speak to Henrik, and there was no emergency, just he has been offered a job back in DK and wanted my to know as I recommended him.

And then Tony calls to find out what was wrong. So, we chat for a while and I forget the time, and that I should have been in work. I get a message from my boss; are you joining the meeting?

Bugger.

So began a day where people lined up to kick my arse. As is the way.

By lunch I was work out with it all, but the meetings kept coming thick and fast.

It is half two before I realise that the smart watch is still in its charger, so not recorded how many steps I had done, but then as I had not left the house, not really missed that much. I give it up for the day, and finish the day on the sofa, working whilst watching a program about guys who clean garages out in Raleigh. Its crap TV, but I am hooked on that, as well as American Pickers.

The day ends and I feel like I need a holiday, not refreshed like I have had three days off.

Once Jools comes back, we have cheesy beans on toast, after which we go outside to work in the garden, deadheading the flowers in the new beds, so we might get more flowerings next month.

After that, we have raspberry and blackberry crumble and lashings of custard, which was well lush.

The evening was spent in what I thought would be me swearing at the computer following Norwich at Cardiff in the League Cup, but as it turned out, City played like champions and ran 0ut 3-1 winners, thus silencing the naysayers.

I went to bed happy.

Shifting sands.

A quiet announcement this morning, that the end of September deadline for the end of discussions on the WA had been extended by a month, proving what we all knew, that due to the almost glacial "progress" through 2018, there was no hope of sending anything for ratification to the EU27 in October.

This does two things, it does give time for additional talks, but at the same time reduces the time for ratification, something the EU thought would need 6 months, but now will only have five. Remember, that any failure for one of the EU27 to ratify the WA would mean no deal and the UK crashing out of the EU. And no transition agreement either, as with the WA there can be no TA. It is hoped the change will focus minds, and maybe it might be reduced further, to give the EU27 the same Hobson's Choice as May has threatened Parliament with, take it or leave it.

Rather than answer the questions from yesterday's post, let me ask you this:

There is a 15 mile branch line to Wisbech in Cambridgeshire that many locals there want to reopen. IN order for it to be reopened, (the track is there, so just needs bringing up to standard), required detailed plans and investigations, and in the end reopening would only happen if the benefits outweigh the costs. And yet, Brexit is being carried out with no assessments of the costs that it will inflict on all areas of life and the economy. Any attempt to use the Government's own leaked assessments either results in them being disowned or stating they are a work in progress, yet Brexit gets closer and apparently harder.

Why would this Government, and opposition, push forward a policy it knows, in secret, that will cause great harm to the economy and exports and employment and tax revenue, yet at the same time shroud all details in as much secrecy as possible, relying on plain lies and soundbites to push this policy forward? And at the same time, most newspapers and broadcasters either act as a mouthpiece for this, or spend most of the time smearing Corbyn or still EU and EU citizens bashing. That would be bad enough if they really were a drain on institutions like the NHS, but they are a bet benefit to the NHS and the country in general.

This is realy madness.

Monday 27th August 2018

Bank Holiday Monday

It was this, when I was a child, that signified the summer was really coming to an end, or the long summer holiday was, as the six or seven weeks of bliss would end some point in the first or second week of September, and straight into more hard stuff that I saw no point in. Or if I did, would rather we back outside playing in the still warm sunshine.

Since then I have grown to appreciate and even love science and maths, heck, I write for pleasure now and who saw that coming? But as the days began to grow really short, we would be in classrooms whilst our maths master musters his rhomboids. And when we were allowed to go outside, it was to be "taught" the ways of rugby union, I think it was union, but we had to have a special reversible top, huge boots with studs, then catch the ball and run each other. I did well until the class bully threatened me with a bunch of fives if I scored another try. Thus a promising rugger career was cut short by the threat of casual violence.

As our long walk was postponed on Sunday, Jools asked did I want to do it? And much to my surprise I said yes.

So, we have a coffee and a sandwich, then put on our walking boots and set out for the distant corner of the parish, right almost into Kingsdown.

Across the field without nary breaking our stride, past the pig's copse, no sign of the pigs, then down Norway Drove to the top of The Dip, pausing to say hello to the small flock of sheep that will soon share the fate of the pigs in the copse. Oddly, they are interested in me, and come bounding over the the fence and follow us as we walk down the dip past the end of their field. We could hear their mournful bleating as we walked to the mudpool at the bottom.

We find a way through, then up the steep track the otherside, me huffing and puffing again but this as a result of the allergy attack I was still getting over.

At the top we turn towards the top of Otty Bottom Road before turning over the path across the top of the downs.

Just as the path begins to drop down a little, Jool took the path across the fields, and I went via the monument, then from there would take the cliff path and we should meet up at the sloe bushes next to the golf course.

Once at the monument, I look for the tiny spikes of the ALTs, a few more out, so I snap them before setting off down the cliff path towards Kingsdown. At least it is mostly downhill, and with the sun weakly breaking through the clouds, it was just about warm, and the walk was enjoyable.

I reach the sloe bushes, and there is no sign of Jools, so I begin to gather the small hard plumbs, putting them in a bag I had brought along. Over the hedge I could hear the sound of golfers getting their round in early, one chap in a bugger and his poor labrador jogging beside him. The buggy stops for the guy to climb out, select a club and wave it in the direction of the ball and drive off for another 20m before the process starts all over.

In a while, Jools joins me, and walking back up the path we fill a bag together, but Jools says there was more in bushes beside the path, so we go there, and in no time had filled two more bags, and altogether, the backpack was just about full. So with rain in the air, and clouds sweeping over the sky, we head for home and for brunch.

The pigs were in the copse, and looking very healthy, and looking like they might be off to market.

Anyway, we don't stop to look for butterflies, just back over the fields to the end of our street and home.

There is gardening to do too, plant the two shrubs I had bought, and as luck would have it, there were now two spaces in the new beds, and very much at home they looked too.

As we had each done 10,000 steps, we were hungry, so I prepared lunch, insalata and lots of crusty bread. Which hit the spot.

And afterwards came the task of pricking each and every one of the sloes before placing them in a sterilised demijohn. I do this whilst watching a recording of the football, which was a really good way of getting the task done. We filled two demijohns with sloes, and the two litres of gin only filled one, so I went to Tesco to hunt and gather another couple of bottles.

And by three we were done, we agitate the demijohns and the gin is already turning red as the berry juice leaks out.

I cook roast beef and the trimmings, or some of the trimmings, for dinner. Roast potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, steamed veg and mashed and peppered swede.

We have the last bottle of the pink fizz with it, and very good it was too, but we were stuffed, and having less than we usually eat on such occasions.

By the time we clear us, wash up and put everything away, it is half eight and already dark outside. On the radio, I listen to Man Utd v Spurs, and is very much as exciting as I hoped, and ended up laughing like a drain as Spurs rattled in their third as the Theatre of Revised Expectations emptied.

Still, gotta laff.

Its not the end of the world, apparenty

Not much news on the Brexit front today, other than our glorious leader, the PM T. May, today said that a no deal Brexit would not bring “the end of the world”, which I don’t remember seeing written on the side of a bus.

In other news, the chairman of a leading UK supermarket outlined what a no deal would bring, and mainly that would be 10%, in general, in prices across the board. With, for example, the following tariffs from the EU on basic WTO scales: cheese will attract a 44 per cent tariff, beef a 40 per cent tariff, lamb a 40 per cent tariff, chicken a 22 per cent tariff, apples a 15 per cent tariff and grapes a 20 per cent tariff, and so on.

Fresh food will see the biggest prices increases, as we can only get that from the EU, so no alternative for alternative sources.

However, getting the Brexiteers claim that all this is a new version of project fear, and many companies who have been in talks with the Government, were forced to sign Non-disclosure Agreements, NDAs, to stop anything alarming from getting out into the public realm. But why would the Government want to keep anything that might affect the public perception of Brexit quiet, especially when what they keeping quiet would show what a disaster Brexit would mean to each person in the country?

Jools and I have decided not to look for a replacement car, as the Corsa has done over 60k miles, we won't until we see what the state of the country is after next March. It would be silly to take on yet more debt only for the economy to tank soon afterwards and we can't keep up the repayments.

That and no holiday planned for next year at all, so Brexit planning also happening close to home.

Ten questions all UK citizens should ask of themselves and their MP

1. How much clout does a nation of 65 million people have in global trade?
2. Will the British government ask for the ability to extend the transition period?
3. Do we really want a trade deal with the United States?
4. Should the UK remain in a customs union with the EU?
5. What’s the real appetite among the British public to go ‘buccaneering’?
6. What economic price is worth paying to end free movement?
7. Is it time to throw our lot in with EU defence?
8. Will a second referendum fix anything?
9. How politically unsustainable is vassalage really?
10. Does a ‘customs border’ in the Irish Sea really risk the break up of the UK?

I will give you my answers tomorrow, most you could guess, I suspect.

Don't worry, be Brexit

The universal message being spewed out by Brexiteers and the Brexit supporting titles of Fleet Street, is that Brexit cannot be as as bad as what people like, oh, I don't know, the Chancellor and the Governor of the Bank of England, are painting.In fact, there is no need to worry even about a no deal Brexit because, as the Institute of Economic Affairs (IEA) says that there in the event of a no deal, some kind of other deal will be struck to allow planes to fly and medicines to be imported.

Yes, there you have it, folks, in order to have a no deal, a deal will be needed. And the EU will be desperate for a deal. In fact they will blink first, just watch them.

In the event of a no deal (No WA), the UK will have set up, from scratch, all EU agencies that currently do all sorts of things for us; like regulate aircraft maintenance and registration and the obtaining of radioactive isotopes for medical treatment. These are just two areas, there are hundreds, and all will have to be replicated, and recognised by international bodies. Radioactive isotopes for medical treatment, not just cancer, can have a usable half life of six hours, so any delay in supply would be catastrophic for those needing them.

When there was a previous disruption due to a fire in the Channel Tunnel, supplies had to be flown in. Which could happen again, if the planes can fly.

Thing about these deals in the event of a no deal would only fly if the UK kept its word in relation to the December agreement in relation, in particular, to the Irish Border, but also to the financial settlement and citizen's rights. Any attempt by May or another PM to renege on these commitments would mean there could be no deal on anything, and on top of that, the UK's words on International Trade could not be taken in good faith. And this would happen just at the moment that that UK would need lots of good faith from over 60 countries to renegotiate trade deals it would lose as leaving the EU on bad terms.

Certainly, the EU saying to its trading partners, that in effect, the UK should be treated as a part of the EU until the end of 2020 would no longer apply. But all of this is an irrelevance to Brexiteers, just detail they don't want to know now, and certainly never troubled their thinking before this point.

So with thall this and the problems with trading on sole WTO rules means that no deal would be a great deal of trouble for the UK and its international trade, balance of payments, exports, tax revenue, health care, public sector employment, getting planes in the air, cross-border policing through INTERPOL. And on and on and on.

This is some kind of Kafkaesque nightmare that we never wake up from, and yet the smiling idiot Brexiteers claim all will be fine, and papers like the Sun print their lies.

On Allergies

Yes, allergy season is here.

I do not suffer from allergies, generally from the early spring until the week of my birthday, and as it was my birthday over the weekend, and indeed on the afternoon of my birthday on Friday, I began to have my first attack since the early spring.

I have no idea what sets the allergy off at this time of year. There are no obvious plant group that flowers just from now until April, and as my blood tests state I'm not allergic to anything other than house dust and house mtes, then, who knows? Only, I do know, mainly through keeping this blog, that oversuing toiletries and deodorants can set a reaction off, so I am very careful, always, about how much I use.

The allergy last all though the evening and into the night, but dosing myself up on antihistamine just about kept the worse at bay and allowed me to sleep. Another tablet in the morning of the 26th and the attack faded away.

In the fallow period of late spring and into summer, I forget I have allergies, and am a little more generous in the amount of shower gel used, so this is a wake up call for me.

At least I am OK now, breathing well and a good night's sleep last night. But its a long autumn and winter ahead, saying that, last year was the first in which I had no major attack which resulted in me not being able to sleep.

Here's hoping for another trouble free winter........

Sunday 26th August 2018

When we look back at the summer of the 2018, we will remember a two month period through June and July and indeed into August when there was nothing other than clear blue skies and temperatures through the roof. At some points, there seemed no end to it, as day after day dawned clear and blue, and as soon as the sun rose, so did the mercury.

Last week the last of the harvest was gathered and so there is little other than fields of stubble as far as the eye can see.

And now the temperature is not so high, the sun rises close to six in the morning, and by half eight in the evening, its dark. And then yesterday, with the BBC telling us there would be storms, it started off bright enough, but got cloudier and cooler, until the rain arrived after lunch, and with it turning the afternoon to dusk, we sat and shivered in the house until Jools announced that she would put the heating on.

I was cold enough not to argue.

We had planned to be up with the larks and out on a long stomp to a distant line of sloe bushes, but it looked to cold to go out, so we stayed inside and I watched the football before we had breakfast, and then a shorter walk was planned to get some blackberries.

My friends in America said they had harvested their blackberries weeks ago, maybe sometime in July. Not so here, but the long hot summer coupled with the recent rain have produced huge berries, bursting with sweet joice. At least if you get them from west facing bushes.

Jools has a mental map of all the best foraging places, and the best blackberries were on the other side of the dip, almost opposite our house, so to get there required us to take the path over the fields, then double back along the diagonal path through two hedgerows and up the other side of the dip, skirting past the farmhouse.

We do inspect one of the large tractor tyres, and find that the line of them are in place to protect a sewer that runs to Kingsdown, so that they are not damaged by ploughing.

Up at the top of the field, we pick a couple of pounds of berries in short shrift, and are walking back down the direct path that runs down the edge of the field, through the farm and up to our street. Back home in a few minutes.

Do you think you can make crumble with blackberries and raspberries? Jools asked. I see no reason why not. So, Jools gets busy with flour and butter whilst the berries lightly stew, we would have that late in the afternoon before we go to Whitfield.

Meanwhile, outside, the wind and rain arrives, sending huge curtains of rains across the view over the dip, so thick it was like fog. We turn the heating up.

Crumble was fantastic, I can reveal. I had mine with the last of the out of date cream, and was fine. Perfect with a fresh strong cuppa.

And then to Whitfield for more cards malarkey, and on the way, people driving like idiots in heavy rain, no lights, no indicators. I use the car horn, liberally.

We arrive safe, and we have a fine night, as the rain hammers down on the plastic roof which lets light into Jen's dining room. And for the most year has leaked like a sieve too, but that has been fixed. Jools and I win a game of Meld each, then Jools scoops the jackpot for two runs in Queenie, leaving us up heavily again for the evening.

And that was it, back home before ten, have a cuppa, check the interwebs and off to bed.

Ten Years

Just after breakfast on the 26th August 2008, I disembarked the survey vessel I had spent the previous eight weeks at Peterhead. It is the only time I have been there. I had hoped to be relieved the day previous, as it was my birthday, but it didn’t happen. My shipmates helped me celebrate my birthday in fine style, from what I remember, cheering me from my slough of despair at not being home on what was my 43rd birthday. But I would be home the next day, after a taxi collected me from the quayside and took me to Aberdeen airport for my flight home. I think it must have been to Heathrow, as by then I had moved to Kent. Jools met me at the airport, and we went home, three weeks before our wedding.

I say this, as August 26th this year sees the 10th anniversary of the Jelltex blog, and quite a ride it has been.

I have gone from being a survey engineer in the North Sea to one working on the Caspian Sea before the company that poached me went bust, and I ;lost my job, and soon was reduced to working for minimum wage at the box factory. At times it seems that despite all my different qualifications for driving, quality, engineering and the rest, it would be an impossible task to get a job.

In 2010, I short term contract surveying for the Thanet windfarm, turned into working for the WTG supplier for the windfarm, and the rest, as they say, is history.

I am now an International Playboy and quality expert, flying round the globe doing quality related malarkey, and taking photos when I can.

The blog has followed the fortunes of Norwich City and the England team in football, although I doubt many folks read those. But in the past ten years, I have photographed butterflies, churches, trains, orchids, pubs, wild flowers in general, and anything else that takes my fancy. And with those, we always find something interesting to do, exploring the more remote areas of Kent, walking the downs, woods and meadows of the county looking for that rare orchid.

I am guessing that many find the orchid season a bit repetitive, but it gets me out of the house and walking, which is almost like exercise. And in the meantime, have learned more than most about the UK Hardy Orchid.

Thanks to friends like Simon K, John Vigar and those from the GWUK group, I have caught the churchcrawling bug, and have an eye for detail, and people who I can share these passions with. Thanks to the power of the interwebs, I have met many of my online friends and contacts, and all such meetings have been like meeting old friends, yet it is a first time meeting. Long may that continue.

We have stayed with friends in other countries, and friends from around the world have come to stay with us. Always a pleasure too, although some of the cats may have other thoughts.

What will the next decade bring? I hope to complete the Kent church project; I have no idea how many more there are to visit and snap, but it is something I enjoy. I might even work out what to do with the photos from all 292 churches, making it a real resource for people. Although I did find out this week that at least one person is using my shots to plan tours he arranges for people. Nice that someone has use for the shots.

Both Jools and I hope to retire in the next ten years. As soon as possible, really, but that it is more likely to be in eight or so years’ time, and then we can really concentrate on our hobbies, or just sell up and buy a narrow boat and live on a canal somewhere. We have choices. Which is always good.

Jools and I have worked all our lives, Jools with just a few weeks of unemployment after she lost the job at the box factory, and me when UTEC went bust, and also when the job at the box factory suddenly ended. I think we have both earned our retirement, when it comes, but with the recent deaths of friends and family, at the moment we just hope that we both live long enough to enjoy our golden years.

Saturday 25th August 2018

My 53rd birthday

1st day of a 3 day weekend.

I t has seemed through the late spring and into the summer of this year, that the endless warm and hot sunny days would never end. Of course, they would, and it is an entirely British thing that the first cold morning should be on the first morning on a bank holiday.

In fact, Friday wasn't warm at first, but got warmer, quickly, but there was no doubt about how chilly Saturday morning was.

I came down the stairs, and jools launched into a quick chorus of "happy birthday", it is the law, after all.

As it was, nothing helps better than a fresh pot of coffee, and then up and attem to Tesco for some modern hunter-gathering. It seemed that many people had the same idea, with their minds on things to get, which probably explains why they were so crap dring; no signals, wrong lanes and just plain being gits.

I zip round filling up the trolley, including two litres of gin, as we had sloe harvesting in mind for Sunday.

Back home for breakfast of toasted saffron buns left from the previous week, each slice coated with melted fresh butter, and all the better for it.

Now, the question was what to do with the day.

It might not come as much of a surprise to find it was orchid related. Thing is, by now there is just one orchid species out in the South East, but on Friday, a contact of mine stumbled on a few flowering spikes of Frog Orchid in neighbouring Sussex, and thinking that in which case, maybe they could be flowering here, within ten minutes we were on our way to Wye.

Since the beginning of the 19th century, many species of orchids have become extinct in the county, but the Frog was one of the more recent ones to become extinct, last having been recorded in 1998. I thought the last sighting had been in Dover in 1984, but someone I bumped into revealed a site on Wye Down where they were seen some 15 years later.

Well, not that I want to be the one to find them again, although that would be nice, but a walk on the downs, or in the woods is never wasted, and there would be butterflies to seeks out. Or so I hoped.

Frogs are found all over the country, but less so in the south and east. I see them at the only site in Suffolk where they are left, and there are fewer than a dozen plants there. So, this would be a coup, but then again, it was also a wind goose chase, but one which involved a walk on the downs.

My contact told me where the spikes had been last seen, and as we had been here in June also hunting for the Frogs, we knew where to go.

It was breezy up there, and cows and their calves scattered before us, as we walked down to the area of scrubby land where I was told the spikes were last seen. All that is there now is lots and lots of thistles, and inbetween, lots of coarse grass. We walk slowly and look, but already my high hopes had been dashed.

We reach the fence line, search room some more, but find no orchid, and as before no sign of any orchid.

But we do see a few butterflies, which I snap. I also see a large flying insect, I heard it first; the clicking of wings hitting each other making it seem obvious it was a dragonfly, but I saw the wee beastie land, and could see that it wasn't the right shape. So, I creep closer, and take a few shots. Turns out it was a fly. But not just any fly, it is Britain's largest fly species; a Hornet Robber Fly.

Disappointed, we walk back up the down to the car, then drive back to Stone Street, and up that to the garden centre before Chartham. We call in to buy a couple of plants for the garden, and while Jools is inside, I look at the map and decide we would go to Waltham after, as there was a church we had not visited in four years or so.

Waltham is a picturesque village, huddled along narrow lanes, but good for us there was a large clear sign pointing the way to the church, so we follow directions.

We arrive at the church, and I get the cameras out of the boot, but on the way to the church, I meet to wardens who had spent the morning strimming the churchyard. They tell me there had been huge changes inside, though I don't see any to be honest. But then my memory of the church is of another one completely.

I take shots, not many as the church's only point of interest is the tower between the chancel and nave. Ropes for ringing the bells hung down to just above head height.

We leave again, and now drive home, to get back in time for dinner. At least, even for a bank holiday, the roads were quiet. So we arrive home just after one, time to make lunch and listen to the football again.

Later, Norwich play Dirty Leeds, and after an even first 20 minutes, Leeds take the lead, quickly add a second, and really, that was that. I try to stay awake on the sofa

I have a conversation with a friend on FB; why had I gone to Wye to look for the Frogs when they were last seen in Dover? Turns out he had better info to me, so after seeing where he said they were last seen matches where we normally go above the football ground.

I'm going out, I tell Jools, and drive to Crabble, just down the road from our old flat. Outside the ground, Eastleigh Borough were boarding their coach after beating Dover Athletic 2-1, which explained why they looked pleased.

I park the car, get the camera, sigh to myself as I walk into the old Athletic Ground, checking the two areas of grass banking either side of the pavilion, but other than finding dried spikes of CSos from two months ago, no sign of a frog.

I follow the path up onto the down, then through the trees to a track leading further up, and finally, a partially hidden winding path steeply up to where the treeline ended, and I was confronted by the area of open grassland I know so well, but the grass was at least two feet high. Useless for orchids, but I look anyway, and find zero orchids

But I knew, I guess.

I walk back down as a light rain shower felt, and away in the west the sun came out, casting a bright rainbow against the dark clouds.

I reach the car and drive home.

We have cheese and crackers for lunch, and wine. Lots of wine.

Jools watches Breaking bad while I write and edit, and the day fades into darkness.

Holiday weekend Brexit

There are only so many ways to describe the shitshow that is Brexit, I mean it is stupid, dumb, stupid and will be hugely damaging to the country and relations with our nearest trading partners. As ever, even if it were to be ended today, the damage is there, for the sheer cost that the EU has spent and the effort put into preparing for Brexit. I am sure that most of the EU27 are now happy enough that the UK is leaving, and just want to get it over with now.

The MP for the 18th Century, JRM stated then asked how the issue of the Irish border should be dealt with in the event of a no deal, he said, with inspections as during the troubles. Thus failing to appreciate what the GFA has done for all of Ireland. In fact I am sure he knows this, just doesn't care, which goes back to my previous Brexit post, that these charlatans and snake oil salesmen need challenging on their statements, and this being shown to the country. And this show on all news shows.

But the charade goes on and on, and the right wing press just backs the lies up.

As ever, as to how this is all going to play out; who knows? Unless the real risks of Brexit are laid out in a factual way, and the huge benefits that being a member of the EU are explained, then what hope will there be? Only that post-Brexit, as a country we will learn in real time, as a country, all that the EU has done for us for a pittance, for the last 45 years. And then realise that rejoining cannot happen for a generation.

Make no mistake, the 29th March 2019 is a point at which things will never be the same again for UK, there will be no going back either to the EU or to the days when manufacturing and exports paid into the national exchequer, as a country we will learn that too.

And when we go on holiday, having to buy visas for EU countries, car insurance, international driving licences, travel insurance and roaming charges on our phones. Wait until the reader of the Daily Hate Mail find that out! But it will be the EU's fault of course.

Friday 24th August 2018

Friday.

4 months to Christmas Eve.

Seriously.

I had a blood test booked at the doctor's for half nine, and so I thought I might take the opportunity to have a long walk before going for the test, asking Jools to drop me off at the Monument, so I could walk to Kingsdown to check on the colony of orchids there. You will be glad to hear the orchid season is now coming to an end.

We have coffee, I get dressed while Jools gets ready for work. All I have with me are my two cameras. All I need.

She drops me off the other side of the meadow, meaning I walk into the sun towards the monument, with the grazing sheep scattering before me. I take my first shot of the day.

Won't be my last.

Around the monument, there are the tiny spikes of the last orchid of the season, Autumn Ladies Tresses, they are showing well now despite the over-zealous mowing by the council who despite assuring me that they would not mow, have continued. Maybe the message has got through, though I doubt it.

My other hope for the walk was to find som Autumn Gentian, a handsome flower by all accounts, but despite me going to investigate any plant looking pink or purple flowered, I find none.

But a walk is never wasted, especially when I have the whole of the cliffs to myself. Below, it is low tide, som the cliffs have dry feet, and from there the sound of feeding birds could be heard. On the other side of the path, the large fields is scattered with hay bales, making a photogenic scene, so I snap that a few times for walking on down towards Kingsdown.

It is amazing how you know the nature of the land you walk through, in that I knew at what point I would see butterflies, and which ones they would be. And sure enough, soon after crossing into Kingsdown, level with the end of the service road, I saw the first of the Adonis Blues basking in the warming sun. This was another bonus for being up so early on a fine morning, cool enough to make sure butterflies were not flighty.

I get close to a couple, but soon I am happy to spot the flashes of blue from a distance. Although there are many species of blues, there is no other species that has such a vivid blue colour, like a drop of tropical ocean dropped onto the clifftops in East Kent.

And even better, I come across a single Small Copper, also basking, but a fresh out of the packet one, with colours for vibrant, it shimmered, and for the fist time noticed that the rear edge of the hind wings each has a small "tail". Amazing.

Further along, I come to my goal, a house which has on its extensive lawns, thousands of spikes of ALTs. I mean thousands. And a couple of years ago, some had started to grow on the grassed area between the house and road, but the owner of the house although letting orchids grown on his lawn, is mowing this area that the public can see to within a fraction of ground level.

Sigh.

So I turn round and start to walk back, back past the basking butterflies, through the gate back into St Margaret's, and up the cliff path, up to the monument, then through the village to the surgery.

It was now getting warm, and as ever, the surgery had the heating on, causing me to melt for the first ten minutes until I got used to it.

Then back out into the sunshine, through the village, then back along to the top of The Dip before dropping down the steep track, through the mud at the bottom to home.

It was just before ten, just as I thought it was. Clever me. And as I walked the final stretch back across the fields, the smart watch on my wrist vibrated, telling me I had already done my 10,000 steps for the day.

I had time to make a brew before delving into work. But, turns out it is Friday everywhere, and things are slow. Slow enough to call it a day at two, and settle down to watch something on TV and wait for Jools to come home.

A year or two ago, when walking through Canterbury, we had noticed a new restaurant called he Korean Cowgirl, and we thought this sounded interesting, so during the week we booked a table for Friday evening, and so at three in the afternoon, we drove into the city for a walk round, see what's new, maybe have a pint and then have dinner out.

Canterbury is a huge tourist draw, and always seems to be thriving, but we saw several empty shops, and one was a store that had sold shoes in the town for over a century, all closed and gone. I guess we saw a half dozen empty shops, but something we have not seen there before. A reaction, we were told later, to sky high business rates. Restaurants and eateries are opening and closing all the time, but shops going, is a worrying new turn.

But the cobbled streets of the city were packed with tourists from all over the globe, all in town to take in the sights around the cathedral.

We walk pat that, and along College Street, past the old King's School shop and to the micropub we knew was there, to have a pint or two, and as it turned out, a game of Trivial Pursuit, or the WH Smith version from the 90s. I won't tell you who won, but I left the pub smiling.

We walked to the restaurant, and found just one other table taken, which made it all the more amazing that they made such a big deal out of reserving a table for two.

Anyway, we order something called the Dirty Cowgirl, a platter with brisket, ribs, wings and Korean coleslaw. It was great. I mean, just the right amount for the two of us, and by the time we finished the place was filling up with bright young things and ladies that dine.

We paid and left, walking back through the Cathedral Precinct, past rows of closed shops to the car, and due to the three beers I had drunk, Jools drove us back, getting us back in time to fall asleep in front of the TV watching Monty. As it should be.

Thursday 23rd August 2018

Already the month is nearly over and you can really feel the year is getting older. Middle aged maybe, but the other morning, St Maggies was shrouded in mist and fog all day, something that usually only happens in spring and autumn. The harvest is done, and now the smell of manure hangs heavy in your nostrils as the farmers replenish the soil. The hedgerows are laden with fruit and bounty, just waiting to ripen as the shadows grow longer in the late summer afternoons. Getting up in the mornings now at half five, the sun is not yet up, but yesterday the sky was getting ready, washed with high clouds dusted with pinks and reds.

And it is Thursday, sliding down to a three day weekend, with some good stuff planned, so all I have to do is get stuff done and stay awake though meetings.

And I do it. I mean, things had been getting on top of me, so I was told to get it under control. So, nothing beats a good spreadsheet, with all information in one place. Took some time, but I got it done, and in the end I got this strange feeling. A feeling of being in control. A strange thing. For sure.

In the afternoon, a strange thing. Standing at the back door and the sky was full of seagulls, all low down and wheeling and swooping, then I see in the middle a brown shape, just doing its own thing; a large buzzard, just minding its own business, stopping to perch at the tree near the bottom of the garden, where a half dozens crows fly in to mob it, so the buzzard takes off again, moving off over the house and away.

That morning I had looked at the smart watch, and saw that its step reading was mocking me. Only once have I cracked the ten thousand steps, and these days working from home, I am lucky if I do a tenth of that. So, I decide to break out the crosstrainer, and in preparation put the I pod on charge so I could have something to listen to.

Only, as it turned out, I pugged the I pod in, but the other end wasn’t in the power socket, so no music, so I did a quick ten minutes with no music soundtrack, and managed to do 1500 steps.

Yay.

And so another day draws to an end, so more aubergine preparation, more egg and breadcrumbing, more frying, more eating, more drinking wine.

Cheers.

No sleeping on the sofa this evening, just watching some TV and no football to listen to. For a change,

Post notice blues

Yesterday was the biggest car crash for the Brexiteers yet, and yet looking at the headlines in the Brexit-supporting press, one would think something else had happened. Other than the dire state of the notices, Philip Hammond’s letter outlining the dire consequences of Brexit on the economy as a whole, and for the north east and NI in particular.

That he is Chancellor of the Exchequer, and has stuff like impact reports and advice from the Treasury and the reports from the Bank of England, surely that would be enough to take warnings seriously?

Of course not, not with the Brexit faithful, The Hate Mail calls Hammond Eeyore for launching “Project Fear mk2” and the Express, “What Does Hammond think he is Playing at?” His actual job, you muppets.

It is journalist’s job to report the truth, as best they can. If one side says it raining, and the other side says its sunny, then don’t report both, stick you head out of the window and find out the truth! It’s not hard is it?

Radio Kent had a Brexiteer on yesterday debating with an actual trade negotiator, and it was carnage; the poor Brexiteer just repeats the mantra and simply does not understand how international trade works, or how Liam Fox’s depart works, or isn’t. Dozens of trade deals being negotiated right now he said. Negotiator had looked at the DExEU’s website and found the true answer was four. And that in the case of Japan’s FTA with the EU, there are limits as to what deal the EU can make with other countries. Including UK. Yes, that is a fact, and the negotiator even listed the page of the agreement and read it out.

I mean, Jesus Fucking Christ, how hard is that to demolish Brexiteers fantasies of free trade, why can’t journalists, especially those at the State Broadcaster do this? Just understand the basic facts, and call out lies for what they are.

Lies.

Wednesday 22nd August 2018

Jools has been up half the night, and looks like crap. But she has interviews to do, she says. So after some juice for breakfast and a shower, she is off to work leaving me at home. And I feel a bit of a fraud as I don't feel that bad, but again after a shower I was suffering from overheating again. So I sit out on the patio to cool down, and am treated with the world of nature all around, the stuff we normally miss in our busy lives. Butterflies, bees and birds. A magpie was trying to get at one of the fat-filled coconuts we hung in a bush. He wasn't giving up.

I have said many times that days working from home hardly vary, and this is indeed the case.

I start with opening Outlook and looking at the landslide of mails, then deal with those before looking at what it was I had actually planned to do that day. Sometimes the mails and follow up calls can last until the afternoon and all your energy is gone before you start on the tasks of the day.

There is always tomorrow.

Once the day is done, or I am, I pack up and go to mow the back garden. I know, second time this year; madness, but thanks to the rains we have had, the grass had begun to grow, and so best keep it under control under meadow season begins next spring.

I avoid the wild plant plugs that Jools had planted, and do the rest of the lawn. And, even if I say so, at the end of the afternoon, the back garden looks a picture. And a fine looking one at that.

Back inside, so I prepare dinner; pasta salad and aubergine, as you do, because, because its summer. And is delicious.

Jools comes back home, looks washed out, but feeling better, well enough to have some decent scran, though she avoids cider.

I don't avoid wine, which might explain at half seven I go to lay down on the sofa.

Two hours later, Jools wakes me up and says its time for bed, so for the first time In years, I go to bed not knowing if Norwich had won.

Noticing the notices.

Today, the Government published the first of its technical notices, and in short, the plan is to agree to align with EU standards and laws, and hope the EU reciprocates.

That is it.

It also askes pharmaceutical companies to stockpile 6 weeks of medicines, and also tells companies that export that an extra layer of paperwork will be needed, so might be a good idea to practice with the red tape needed now.

And it also mentions that UK needs to set up its own agencies to replace EU ones. In seven months.

And that is about it, although this is just 20 of the notices, the vagueness of the planning is shocking, and bases some of the planning on hoping the EU won’t implement laws and standards on UK goods it will have to.

“It’s a little risky to have your failed negotiation contingency plan rely on the cooperation of your failed negotiation counterparty.”

And for NI businesses who trade over the border with Ireland? “ask the Irish Government”! You really could not make this shit up.

And at the end, this does is drive the final nail in the coffin of lies that Brexit would bring back control to the UK and mean an end to EU Bureaucracy. The first is killed by the addittance that we would rely on, for an indefinite period, the EUs rules and regulations for the importing of food and drugs, and hope that the EU will do the same for our goods. And the second is killed by the massive amount of forms and red tape, sorry, red white and blue tape, that businesses on either side of the Channel will not have to comply with.

And that might all fine and dandy, were it not for the Chancellor to finally answer Nicky Morgan in writing today, spelling out that the UK economy would be approximately 8% worse off after 15 years than it it would have stayed, but for regions (or countries) like the North East and Northern Ireland, this will be much worse.

Those "no deal" scenarios, in full

As promised, here are the way in which a no deal Brexit can be reached, and once you read though I hope you will see how I reached the conclusion that no deal is the most likely, because it is by far the easiest form of Brexit to reach.

NB: Unless the UK Government of the day says otherwise, the UK will leave the EU at 23:00 GMT on 29th March 2019. The UK would to ask to either rescind the A50 notice or extend it.

NB 2: a "deal" is a withdrawal agreement (WA) that is reached between the UK and EU.

So, a no deal Brexit will happen if:

1. Both the UK and EU fail to agree the terms of the WA, which must include, as a minimum, financial settlement, rights of citizens, and a solution for the NI/Irish Border.

2. Any WA would have to be ratified by each of the EU27 and the EU Parliament, failure of any of of these to ratify the WA would result in no deal.

3. Failure to get any WA through Parliament. Domestic ratification, in other words.

4. Headbanger Brexiteer forcing the Government into a scenario where they would only accept a no deal.

So, in order to obtain a WA, May must get one that satisfies each and every one of the EU27, the EUP, her ministers, backbenchers, party, the HoC, the HoL and the country.

Any deal that satisfies one part, would not the others. Will be messy. And cause the Brexiteers to blame anyone except themselves. But will blame the EU loudest.

Tuesday 21st August 2018

Thanks to Facebook's feature to remind you of what you were doing in year's gone by, I realised that a year before, Jools and I were in a semi-desert in the middle of Wyoming waiting for the "Great American Eclipse" to start. I have to say, that this was one of the best days that Jools and I had together, as not only was the eclipse wonderful; it was, but the fact that to be there had been the result of a year's planning and saving. And it worked perfectly, and so found ourselves over a mile in the air in the desert, looking at clear blue skies waiting for the great show in the sky to begin.

Anyway, back to the shitstorm that is 2018, rather than the golden days of 2017.

!

I slept well, but woke up aching all over like I had been hit by a bus. Not quite sure if this was in improvement. Or not.

But it did mean I could work. Or rather, to be honest, I could't afford to take any more time off as I was already behind in terms of the overflowing Outlook in box. But that's another story.

Jools is excited, as she is staring the interviews for the employment of her very own assistant; I thought that was me? Anyway.

I have a shower, and find that I was unable to cool down, despite being out of the bathroom for half an hour, seems that whatever laid me low, was still there. But I do cool down.

I sigh and power up the lap and begin work.

I won't bore you with the details of the day, just the usual stuff.

But come four in the afternoon, I looked at my smart watch and it stared I had done less than 500 steps, so I grab my camera and go out for a quick walk, just over the fields to the butterfly glade, but that would be enough.

Indeed, once back I felk 500% better, showing that a little phy is good. Probably a lot of phys is better, but, you know, baby steps.

THe final two fields around us had just been harvested, and the farmer was forking the bales onto a trailer ready to take to the farm for storage, but there were enough to make pretty photos with.

Further along where the footpath goes behind some houses, there were a few butterflies, mostly Commas and Holly Blues, and further along in the glade there were Peacocks, Red Admirals, Common Blues and a Brown Argus. But due to the overgrown nature of the glade, I couldn't get close enough to snap them, instead made do with taking a few shots of the largest wasp spider I have seen, larger than a 50p piece.

I walk back home so I can cook dinner.

But as it turned out, Jools arrived home not feeling to well, and soon was taking up residence in the smallest room, before taking to her bed at eight in the evening.

So, a bit of a downbeat day....