Tuesday 30th July 2019

Our ancient forbears realised that the sun rose in a slightly different direction each morning, and set in a different place too.

Maybe its because I spent the first 40 or so years with my eyes closed, but I only realised this myself since moving to St Maggies.

I mid-winter, the sun rises almost due south, to the back of the house, rising red and angry just after breakfast either side of mid winter.

And between May and the end of July, the rising sun floods into the spare room, illuminating the curtains with warm light. But as we go into August, only the slightest rays of the rising sun now show up, as the sun moves ever southwards each morning. Soon, the morning sun will strike the south side of the house first. And so the year marches on, soon the sun with be noticeably lower in the sky each day, its rays shining through flower petals rather than on.

It is still, just, July, and so still high summer. Schools are out and the roads jammed.

And I am working from home.

I slept through the alarm, but Jools was already making coffee when I cam to. Nothing like laying in bed, smelling the freshly brewed coffee creeping up the stairs.

Hell yes.

Jools has coffee, we talk about the day, and soon she is off to work, and I sigh and take myself to the spare room to do another session on the cross trainer, putting the i pod on and programming some tunes. The session ended up with Tessie by the Drop Kick Murphys, I double my efforts and pump lard harder.

That doen, I have a shower, make another coffee and am ready for work right on time.

Thing is, as I extract myself from the project, there is more my replacement takes off me, and less for me to do, which is fine. I make busy and do stuff.

Come midday, I am so caught up, I go to the sofa to watch second half of the last stage of Le Tour, the cyclists ending up riding into the light of the setting sun, shining through the arch of Le Arc de Triomphe, it is iconic, and causes goosebumps, as the race ends for another year, though I have seen just six stages this year.

By the time it is done, and work loose ends tied up, it is four and time to end for the day.

Our neighbour, Diane comes round. It is over a year since she lost Bob, but time heals, some, and she is looking tanned having just returned form holiday in Greece. She is smiling and has a sparkle in her eye, which is great.

Jools comes home and we have dinner, its been 24 hours since then, and I have forgotten what we had, but couldn't have been half bad, as we're still here.

And in preparation for the first away trip of the season, I try to book two return tickets to that Liverpool.

An hour it took, on two websites operated by two different companies that offered the same tickets at £118 return and £238 return, same ticket, same train, same days.

Madness.

But the details are all set now, just need someone to look after the cats, but we shall see.

And then, I watch City's latest pre-season game on You Tube. The slump to a 4-1 defeat to Atalanta, who qualified for the Champions League last season. First half, City played well, but in the second, silly mistakes and many changes and they lost their shape. Doesn't matter, but a loss hurts.

The Irish Border and the backstop

At the heart of Brexit is the question, what relationship will the UK have with the UK in the long term?

Understand that and you understand the problems.

At the heart of that you have the conundrum that to comply with the GFA there has to be no hard border, but leaving the SM and CU means there has to be a hard border.

And there is no inbetween.

The border itself is 499km long and has 266 crossing points. Though, that does not tell the story, as until partition, it was a united country of Ireland, and so roads just went where they went. This means, that for Brexit planning, in some cases the border is in the middle of a road, or a road my cross from one country to another several times between villages, or the border cuts buildings or businesses in half, entrances to a house in one country are only from the other side, ans in one case, half of a motorway has a triangular chunk where the border starts to cross and then turns 90 degrees, so that the inside lane is in one country, and the outside, briefly, in another.

In short, the border between the US and Canada has a quarter of the crossing points of the Irish Border.

@DavidHenigUK Tweets:

First things first, and most important, Northern Ireland is contested territory. The history of Irish liberation or secession from the UK, then the troubles, is complex. But simplifying, both UK and Ireland had claims, and populations supporting those claims.

The Good Friday peace treaty of 1998 ended a physical conflict, with realpolitik, compromise, bravery and ambiguity. Ireland renounced a claim on Northern Ireland, in return the UK allowed that the latter could join Ireland if a majority supported this.

The ambiguity came in terms of those living in Northern Ireland, they were allowed to feel unionist, a core part of the UK, or nationalist, linked to Ireland. Institutions were set up to underpin both communities. Power was devolved to a cross-community Government.

This history alone means that those living in Ireland in particular are hugely sensitive to the word ‘annexation’. They renounced a territorial claim in the interests of peace. They expect the UK Government and informed public to remember this.

There is no reference in the treaty to the absence of border infrastructure, but it was entirely clear in 1998 that this was part of the deal. Nationalist communities (many along the border) resented reinforced infrastructure putting barriers between north and south.

A Common Travel Area, Customs Union, and Single Market however meant that as between many EU countries (substitute Schengen for the UK-Ireland CTA) the border infrastructure could be removed. Then came the Brexit vote…

No two countries outside of the EU have ever removed border checks between themselves. They try to streamline checks where possible, as everybody wants smooth trade, but always retain border checks. Why?

Simply, for goods trade, a border post is the only place where you can guarantee to have the vehicle, the items definitely being transported, and all relevant paperwork in one place. You can and do make other checks, but the border is at the core.

One of the reasons for the gigantic EU legal and regulatory framework is to be able to trust that goods trade between members can take place without border checks. This means common tariffs, common rules, and legal redress (and remember nobody else has removed border checks).

Norway and Switzerland have exceptionally close trading relationships with the EU, following EU rules in many areas. Yet they have border posts with the EU, where freight should pass in case checks are required. This shows the difficulty of removing such check.

So back to the Ireland border and Brexit, the fundamental problem is that the absence of border checks North-South is in the minds of one community a fundamental part of their identity, but such checks have always been part of EU external borders.

Equally any checks that are introduced on trade between Northern Ireland and Great Britain are likely to impact on unionist concerns that they are an integral part of the UK. Unionist parties allow some differences, but with caution.

Ireland itself has done very well out of being an EU member. Economically it is now far richer than Northern Ireland, and indeed GDP per head is far greater than the UK. There is no significant move in Ireland to leave the EU.

So known Brexit and Ireland options are - Ireland-EU border checks (bad for Ireland), Ireland-Northern Ireland checks (bad for nationalists), Northern Ireland-rest of UK checks (bad for Unionists), continued UK-EU alignment (bad for Brexiteers).

Alternatives? Well many countries have been making border simplifications, using trusted trader schemes, or inspections away from borders. But all of these have still relied on the border as the final checking point, as well as the local business consent.

Can you move all checks away from the border? Only if you’re prepared to tolerate massively increased smuggling, or put in place greater surveillance. Neither are seen to be answers to the problem, particularly the latter, which plays back to identity issues.

Irish officials recognised this problem ahead of the referendum, the better UK officials soon after. They knew there was no good solution to the Ireland and Brexit problem, no solution giving everyone what they wanted. This remains the case.

The original Northern Ireland backstop clearly saw unionists lose. That was then replaced by the all UK backstop which Brexiteers wanting total freedom from EU rules disliked, as did unionists (too much divergence) and EU (too much UK access to EU market). So a compromise.

Enter the irresponsible language, that the backstop was Ireland’s fault, or EU annexation. It was easier to blame someone else rather than admit that there is a fundamental problem. And denying the fundamental problem increases suspicions among nationalist communities.

We also hear about the ‘undemocratic’ backstop – if this means Northern Ireland may have to follow rules over which it has no say that is true, but could presumably be fixed by further negotiations, without junking the whole backstop.

Alternative arrangements were a sideshow. You can develop simplifications, but the infrastructure free border does not exist and may never do so without close regulatory alignment. They are another device to avoid talking about the fundamental problem or border and identity.

So what happens in no-deal? Nobody wants to particularly talk about this, but there are almost certainly confidential briefings that say peace is at severe risk. But equally open borders with divergent regulations and duties are not sustainable.

In no-deal Brexit expect in short term a variety of different solutions against a very difficult / crisis political background, which will variously upset all sides at different times i.e. the UK Government will in reality treat Northern Ireland differently, trade will suffer.

In the slightly longer term polls suggest no-deal increases the likelihood of Norther Ireland voting to join the Republic. WWe may go from claims of annexation to the actual end of the UK. Again, all far too sensitive at the moment for major debate.

Ireland and the EU had no choice to assert their broad principles, to protect their border free trade, but did compromise to help with unionist sentiments. London Brexiteers continuously refused to compromise with reality. Purity before peace for them.

There are some serious commentators who said the EU went too far over Ireland. However beyond the criticism none put forward any possible alternatives, probably because no obvious solutions exist. And reality denial is now the official policy of the UK Government.

To conclude, there is no current way to reconcile Northern Ireland remaining aligned with the UK, Ireland staying fully in the EU, pure Brexit, and no border checks. This isn't annexation, but reality. Ignoring such inconveniences is what Governments of failed states do.

https://twitter.com/DavidHenigUK/status/1156475809609240576

This was always the case, and will remain so. That Brexiteers failed to realise the significance of the only land border between the UK and EU and to this day try to minimise it, and play down how important all of Ireland is shows what a bunch of charlatans and snake oil salesmen they all are.

Johnson

Each day I try to focus on one, or sometimes more, parts of the world of Brexit in order to explain what it is all so fucked up and/or wrong.

Today it is the trope that Johnson is expressing, that sheer boundless belief in Brexit will get the job done, planning apparently has little part to play.

Or more specifically, detailed planning.

Turbocharged planning, turbocharged this and that are all he spouts, and the more the planning the less bad the end result, but nothing, really, on detail.

There is turbochaged planning to help Welsh lamb farmers, and the more the planning there is, the less the effect the farmers will feel, but the reporter did not press what those detailed plans would be.

Maybe that is because all the local media were banned from interviewing Johnson during his visit. Or to bemore accurate, they were banned from filming either the media pool questions of the one on one interviews there were to be allowed. Both BBC and ITV local news refused to interview Johnson if they could not film it, just read out what Johnson said.

Johnson's plan is simple, and see if you can spot the flaw in it:

1. Negotiate a new WA with no backstop in it.

2. Refuse to negotiate unless the EU gives in to his demand to remove the backstop.

He ways, with no hint of irony, that is his and his Government's intention that the UK leaves the EU with or without a WA on 31st October come what may, but whats to renegotiate the WA, but say he wants to do that and in a way the EU would never agree to.

A course of action that puts the UK on a no deal Brexit course.

Other ministers have said that if the UK leaves without a WA then it will be the EU's fault, not theirs for having no plan.

Johnson wants us all to be jolly positive and get behind his "plan" and anyone who doesn't is just a miserable so and so.

This is not going to end well.

Monday 29th July 2019

38th anniversary of the marriage of Chas and Di.

Also: Monday.

Back to work.

Its funny, we could sleep the whole weekend, and yet are u at dawn with thoughts of what to do with our time, and yet Monday comes round, we just want to stay in bed and slumber.

And after a weekend filled with nothing much, there was always the thrll of looking forward to the weekend filled Outlook inbox once I logged into work.

But before then, Jools made coffee, and then, once she had left, I went on the cross trainer. The i pod had been charging for six months since I last went on, so was all ready to go. Scully looked at me with dirty looks as I began, disturbing her from her slumber on the spare bed.

As luck would have it, a series of my favourite upbeat tunes came on: Chumbawamba, Helen Love, Thomas Dolby, Sheila E and the Hoodoo Gurus made the 20 minutes fly by. But being July, I was hot and bothered by the end, but still smiling.

I had a shower, got dressed and made another coffee, had breakfast of fruit, then was ready for the working day, all by eight in the morning.

And to work.

And I can now reveal that on Friday afternoon, the project I have spend 26 months working on, produced its first electricity. This makes me feel warm inside, and at the time, gave me goosebumps. Sometimes, it does feel like we change the world, on turbine at a time.

Yay.

I had taped, or the electronic version of it, of the final stage of Le Tour, and planned a quiet afternoon on the sofa, but meetings got in the way, and I needed to go to the doctor's to pick up my pills.

Nothing major, just blood pressure. But, I was out, and it was a nice day, so better had set out.

I left at half three, walking to the end of the street, then down Station Road, then back up the other side into the village, taking the back lane past the village pond (do not feed the duck bread) and past the school and up the slope to the surgery.

I get my pills, 9 quid a packet, and am out again in a few minutes, back down the slope then out past the old Red Lion to the top of Norway Drove, where down below I could see the lane at the bottom of the dip.

I took a camera, but not a macro, as I wanted to record the walk rather than plants. Though I did see some fine late summer plants, including toadflax and hogweed. Blackberries were ripening, and near to home I even same a sloe, turning purple and it and many others will be ready to harvest.

I walk down the Dip, passing hedgerows full of butterflies and bees feasting on flowers. At the bottom there was some deep and sticky mud, with just enough room to pass by without falling into the foot-deep tractor tracks.

And up the other side, past the chicken roaming free in Fleet House, than back past the butterfly glade and across the fields.

I sat hot and bothered in the shady patio, sipping on iced squash, while the cats reminded me that it was dinner time.

For dinner I cook maple syrup chicken, stir fry and noodles.

And it was magnificent, even if it was near to eight when we ate, as Jools had gone to yoga.

There was still time to wash and tidy up, make coffee and feast on a Oreo Magnum before going to bed more on the Skunk Works.

A fine day.

(Welsh) lambs to the slaughter

As I have said before, what amazes me most about Brexit, is those who either pushed this lunacy for years or decades, or those who are tasked with delivering it now, understand so little of what Brexit actually is and what it means for the UK, businesses and people.

Take Welsh lamb.

Under a no deal Brexit, it would be subject to 40% tariffs to the EU. But this morning, on Radio 4, the Minister for Wales stated that Welsh farmers could send their lamb to Japan instead of the EU.

Things to note:

1. The EU has a FTA with japan.

2. Once Brexit happens the UK will not have a FTA with Japam, it has one now because it is a member state of the EU.

3. Japan is unwilling to "role over" current tariffs in the EU FTA to the UK, believing it can get a better deal for itself.

4. Under a no deal Brexit the UK would be a third country to both the EU and Japan.

5. It is economically illiterate to suggest trade with our nearest neighbours can be replaced with trade to a country the other side of the world.

6. The BBC reporter did not pick up on this.

New season treats

Summer seems never ending, but the truth is that the break in the footy is just about 12 weeks. And that is filled with the Women's World Cup, that new fanged Euro thing and the U21 championships. So, we've not been suffering from a drought.

And yes, this weekend, the Football League begins, without, for the first time in four years, Norwich taking part.

We kick off with the rest of the Premier League the week after. In fact, Norwich kick the Premier season off, playing away at Liverpool, and I can reveal here that I have a ticket for the game, and so will be travelling up there with Jools for the weekend for football, beer, friends and a new haul of GWUK shots.

One thing I had been waiting for, was the When Saturday Comes (WSC) season preview. That arrived today. Now, I know I'm a fan and everything, but last year we played some great football and I thought most fans of other clubs would be impressed with the team, football and fans we took around the country.

Most failed to mention us, as many made negative comments as positive ones. Leeds didn't surprise me, I mean we did take the place that they thought was theirs all along. But Sheffield Utd said we showed bad gamesmanship?

And in the preview section, they have Norwich to finish 18th and so get relegated.

I think we'll do alright to be honest. I could see us finishing anyway from 6th down. 17th would be a disappointment to be honest, but we shall see.

Norwich haven't splashed the cash this summer. They never were going to. And despite the wonderful record the past two years in recruitment, some fans equate lack of spending with lack of ambition. They have spend the summer securing the current squad with new and improved contracts. So, all is pretty good in the Norwich City world.

Ipswich will be playing in the 3rd division for the first time in 60 years, so there will no games between us for at least a year.

Maybe longer.

One more thing......

One of the main problems, one of the many problems that Brexit has brought, is that people, especially Brexiteers actually understand it.

First and foremost, they see Brexit as an event. An event you can write on you wall calendar or in Outlook and it will happen.

It will, in the sense that the UK will leave the EU my automatic operation of law, but that day, date, is just the start of the process; or the end of the beginning.

Especially in the event of no deal, the 31st October, or whatever day the UK decides to leave, will just be the start of many years of negotiations. Nothing will work, there will be chaos everywhere, and for the EU, the UK will be a third country, and WTO rules state clearly the way the UK is to be treated.

A50 will no longer apply.

Negotiations will take place under articles 207, 217, 218, exactly the same as every other third country, and this will take years.

Years.

There will be no side deals, as the EU will have to comply with WTO rules, the same WTO that Brexiteers claim will save us.

Years.

This is not a scare story, but your actual facts.

There will be no Free Trade Agreement for goods or services for years. Tariffs and non-tariff barriers will last years.

Years.

No matter how damaging.

This is the reality of no deal. Years of chaos, added red tape and bureaucracy and added costs.

Cross-border supply chains will be subjected to added delays and costs, making them nonviable. No wonder the owners of Vauxhall's Ellesmere Port car plant says they might move production to the mainland.

This is not project fear, this is reality. The new reality.

Sunday 28th July 2019

Sunday.

And I had planned, at least in the afternoon, orchid chasing at The Larches to check on the BLH.

Truth is, that if it is not sunny, then orchids really aren't shown to their true colours. And was windy. The BBC said sunshine would only peek through from five in the afternoon, too late as we had an evening of cards planned.

So, we had a lazy morning, sitting around, me watching the highlights of the previous day's stage of Le Tour, that took the morning to ten, and time to do something.

A wildflower meadow takes some work. Some might say hard work, but it is for just a few weeks in the late summer and autumn, then let nature do its thing. Last week I had mowed half the area, left the swathe to dry and hand gathered it on Saturday. Now I had to mow the other half.

Quite a task as the wild carrot had taken over some parts and was like a small forest. I got out the mower, did the easier parts, then began to snip each stalk off before bagging the waste, not bothing about seeds, as we already have had so many this year, any more next year and they will crowd everything else out.

After an hour or so, the meadow was looking more lawn like.

And rest.

I raked the grass into piles and left them to dry. I will collect by hand during the week and scarify to spread the seeds and be sure they make contact with the soil.

It was lunchtime, so I went to cook carbonara and garlic bread. We ate whilst listening to Desert Island Discs, and end up finishing the box of wine that had lasted several weeks! Not just the one meal!

The afternoon was spent off the computer, me laying in bed reading Skunk Works, and Jools beading, while outside the clouds thought about clearing, but didn't until half five, by which time it was time to g to Whitfield for some cards.

It has been a while, and was fun, though on a school night we make it clear that Jools and I have to be back home by ten, so giving us a deadline. Though that is hard to keep to, as once the gin starts to flow, John's mouth likes to tell stories, and if you interrupt, he just goes back to the start.

We snack on pizza and the left over snacks we had taken to Tracie's, and we were done by five to ten, as John just pipped me to the scoop the jackpot.

Darn it.

Possible October timetable for constitutional crisis

By @GeorgePeretzQC.

The convention is certainly that an outgoing government - in particular one that has just lost a vote of no confidence - should not take any decision that would preempt the result of the election to come.

So if Johnson loses a VONC in, say, early October, he should apply for an extension to A50 to avoid a crash out before the election.

But what if he refuses? Respect for constitutional convention is not, after all, a strong point of the Brexit extremists now in charge.

Here, the Fixed Term Parliament Act may help.

The immediate effect of a VONC is to trigger a 14 day period: if no vote of confidence is passed in those days, there is an election. So if there is a VONC, the winning MPs (opposition + Tory rebels) should make it clear that unless Johnson agrees to apply for an extension they will unite round an alternative PM (eg Grieve) to form a temporary government pending an election.

If that candidate could command a vote of confidence, the Queen would have to send for him/her: if Johnson refused (contrary to his constitutional duty) to advise her to, she would be acting entirely constitutionally to do so without his advice.

But one would assume that the threat of being replaced by eg Grieve would be enough to get Johnson to eat his words and apply for the extension: doubtless blaming (as usual) everyone but himself for the broken promise.

The 14 day period would then expire and we’d have an election.

Another ten million quid down the shitter

Yesterday, it was announced that the Government will spend over £10 million on a marketing campaign to prepare the country for a no deal Brexit.

This would pay for 4000 nurses.

With approx. 95 days to Brexit, any preparations not already done is too late.

Simple.

The port of Dover is not ready, and any new infrastructure would take years to plan and buld and then fill with trained staff. And with the Dover Harbour Board's poor record of project management, we had better not be holding our breath.

Ferry companies operating to the EU have announced that no trucks without properly filled in and correct paperwork will be allowed to depart.

In excess of 80 of exporters have not yet started the process of pre-registering.

The UK needs to recruit and train an army of several thousand freight forwarders to work at border crossing points, smoothing the passage of freight consignments. The paperwork for that process does not yet exist.

Any animal products imported into the EU would have to be certified by a qualified EU Vet. There are not enough of those, as for internal EU trade these are not required. Facilities for Vet clearance areas need to be built.

Yesterday, it was that the UK Government that no deal is now "assumed" as the EU were unlikely to reopen the WA.

Another wing of blaming the EU was opened.

The decision to leave the EU was the UK's, and people who campaigned had no plan. Still don't.

No deal breaks the promises and manifesto and even contradicts words of on Boris Johnson last week when he said that the chances of no deal were "a million to one". A week is a long time in politics. As is truth.

Saturday 27th July 2019

Pay Day

Pay Rise.

Weekend.

Triple whammy.

Yay.

And after a week when temperature records have been smashed all over the UK and Europe, then the weekend arrives to overcast and wet weather.

Bugger.

Not much point in going out orchiding without the sun, and anyway, it being the first weekend of the school holidays, the roads to and from the port were jammed.

Jammed.

By nine the Duke of York's roundabout was blocked, and this continued through the day. We were, literally, going nowhere.

So, I rake have the lawn/meadow that I cut the previous week, gather up the dried grass and plants, then scarify what is left, getting abother bag of dried dead stuff to collect.

This is all necessary to ensure that the seeds present last week are separated from the dried plants and can fall to the ground and make contact with the soil to have the best possible start for next year's display.

Looking wild takes a lot of managing.

Perennial wild flowers require no re-seedings year on year, just ensuring that what is produced each year and mostly be saved for the next.

So it goes, so it goes.

At eleven, we made plans to go to Whitstable to visit friends. Getting there was going to be difficult, mind.

Google live traffic suggested that the jams had clear: it lied, the Deal road was stationary when we went past the Swingate. So, I do a quick three point turn on a blind bed: eek! and we go down through Guston, Pineham and onto the Sandwich road the other side of Whitfield. Of course, half the town had the same idea, and the lanes were busy, but we made it, and soon were cruising to Sandwich before going to Preston to call on the butchers for some nice pork pies.

All sold out.

So, made do with sausage rolls, before driving across the marshes at Stourmouth before driving towards London on Thanet Way.

Job done.

We call in at Tesco at Whitstable for more nibbles, then onto Wayne and Tracie's where were present ourselves.

Tracie has had an operation on her feet, to straighten out her toes, so now has what looks like mechano sticking out the end of her toes.

Eek!

But she is getting better. And I had taken Wayne some stupid strength Belgian beer to help him on his way in installing a new kitchen.

Turns out 8% La Chouffe isn't much help, especially when it comes in litre and a half bottles. We share that and the second of the smoked beers I bought, and we make a slight dent in the mountain of food we brought.

They also have a new kitten: Harry, a Bengal and Abyssinian cross, which makes for a handsome and clever kitty cat.

We all doted after him until our constant playing wore the more mite out and he went to sleep under the sofa, out of our way.

At four, we made our excuses and left, following our footsteps back to Thanet then down to Sandwich and home. By which time the jams had not cleared. Jools, driving because of the beer I had drink, had to do a U turn on the A2 and go through the town, then past the castle and along the cliffs to home.

Made it.

It was just possible to stay away watching Gardner's World, but at eight, I decided to go go to bed to read, with Scully joining me sitting between my legs, as dusk fell, and I learned again about the Skunk Works at Lockheed Martin. The reason for this was, having read it before, how in develpoing the X planes and the SR-71, most of what technology was used, was tried and tested.

A lesson to be learned by all of us who work in engineering.

No deal, no deal, no deal

Johnson has now announced a renegotiation of the backstop or time limiting it is not now enough, it needs to go totally.

This is a sea change, as he knows, as does anyone with a brain, that the three parts of the WA will not be given up in any circumstances. Even in a no deal.

A no deal will require cooperation once it becomes clear how chaotic things are, but the EU will hold firm, and the prerequisite for talks on anything beginning will the be the three parts of the WA, but this time to economic and probable social meltdown in the UK.

What would Johnson do this, other than to paint the EU as the bad guys, getting his blame in early. He knows not only will the EU not scrap the backstop, they won't reopen the WA at all, other than to change the WA to be NI specific.

If this is to be the actual policy, Johnson will drive the country over an economic cliff with his foot flat to the floor.

This will hurt.

For a long time.

Maybe a decade.

Maybe longer.

The loss of production and GDP will never be recovered. The country will be forever poorer.

It will take a generation for the country to regain the trust of the international community.

Meanwhile, Trump has been stepping up his Twitter attacks, in-between racist attacks on anyone not white, on the WTO, with the clear threat to undermine it until it is changed to favour the US.

This is the same WTO that Brexiteers claim will be the savour of UK exports and industry.

Johnson's instance that blind optimism with triumph over reality and that being trumpeted on the front pages of many of the national newspapers would be funny if the result were not going to be so bad.

Yes, clearly Brexit is going so badly because we don't believe in it enough. Its not the Brexiteers lack of a plan thats wrong, its remoaners lack of belief that is dragging Brexit down.

FFS.

Friday 26th July 2019

End of the week. And the last day of the Danish (and German) vacation marathon.

So, next week there should be more stuff going on.

Maybe.

So, for the day it was more of the same. Answering mails, updating databases and so on.

And Jools was off work for the day, but had a day of stuff planned, so I would be mostly alone.

And it was going to be hot. Damned hot, if not quite as hot as Thursday. Though, as it turned out that was relative.

Despite it being hotter and a Swedish sauna, once the thunder and lightning the night before had dispersed, we slept well, and work up just before six, ready for the day.

Jools had a coffee then nipped out for a yoga class, then went into town for an optician appointment to have new contacts fitted.

I stayed at home, did my weekly admin tasks, finished off my travel expenses, got into the inbox.

After going Swimming, Jools came back, then went out to do the weekly shopping; she was all go.

I sat working, in the hothouse that is our house on another hot and humid day in Chez Jelltex. Not quite as hot as the day before, but still hot. The thermostat gave up trying to show how hot it was, and I resorted to drinking pints of iced squash. Not beer.

At half twelve, I went to sit on the sofa to watch Le Tour. Another day in the mountains, with the GC due to do a day of mostly climbing in baking hot temperatures.

I watched whilst working, an eye on the TV scree and another on the work laptop.

At three work ended for the day, and the cyclists continued going up and up. And then nature intervened. A snow shower at the beginning of the final climb caused the race to be suspended, then stopped. Chaos at the end of a race of high drama. Later, shots of a landslip showed the route impassable.

At four, we went out to look at our local colony of Violet Helleborines.

We dodge the rush hour traffic, driving in the other direction to Barham, then stopping at the Black Robin to wait for an orchidist friend. I suggest we go in for refreshment. Refreshment is beer and wasabi peanuts, apparently.

We retire to the beer garden, in the shade to wait.

Gwen arrives just after I had supped the last of my pint, which was brilliant timing, so we drive in convoy to the wood, park then walk up the sloping wooded down to the orchids.

Even with the hellish hot temperatures, the spikes were hardly any further on than last week; none in flower.

Jools and I do a hunt, but Gwen finds three new spikes, before I find another three.

Next week.

It is early evening, but humid as hell.

Going back home to cook bangers and mash with Boston beans doesn't make it any cooler. So once we had eaten, we sit on the shaded patio whilst the sun goes down.

Phew.

The sun goes down, and dusk creeps over the land. I sit outside as the humidity drops, finally cooling off enough to go to bed.

Phew.

Never send a boy to do a man's work

Or so said my Dad.

The point here is that Johnson's 98 day cabinet is woefully under-experienced for the task he has set for them to do.

If he actually wants the job done.

The one lesson from the last three years must be that Brexit cannot be done at speed, if at all. But Johnson is trying to get it done in 98 days.

And with all senior and junior ministers now appointed, the thing that unites most of them is that there are almost all inexperienced in the field in which they have been deployed. If Brexit is to be done, knowledge and experience is to be of a premium. And with the civil service have already moved most of its senior staff to new positions since the end of March, the idea that the country can squeeze three years no deal preparations into 98 days is laughable.

If Johnson intends to even deliver Brexit.

I mean, nothing here makes any sense.

He and his ministers are already preparing the blame game, a no deal Brexit will not be the fault of those who have dreamed and schemed for it, in some cases for decades, no it will be Johnny Foreigner in the EU for now bowing down to our demands.

This is the other lesson that has to be learned, that Brexit is not just a UK act, but is bi-partisan process that requires cooperation and compromise on both sides.

Johnson has promised Brexit on the 31st October and no general election. One of those two promises will be broken, maybe both. How will the Brexit fundamentalists react to that?

May was lauded as the new Iron Lady upon her election my Conservative MPs to be PM, in the end she was hounded out for not believing in Brexit enough. The same will happen to Johnson in the end.

The ERG will reject any possible concessions made by the EU. Johnson knows this, the EU knows this, which is why any concession will not be made.

JRM is now Leader of the House, and responsible for getting legislation through the House. Yesterday, he lit up Twitter when is guidelines for those in his department were "leaked"; only use imperial measurements, grammar rules and how to address people. Thing is, this is a distraction. What to focus on is in the background.

The new administration is in the same boat without a paddle as May's, in that it cannot introduce any legislation relating to Brexit, lest it be hijacked and have unwelcome no deal clauses into it, like the NI bill last week. So will not introduce any legislation. A Government that fails to legislate is failing in its primary task.

So, what's the point? What's the point in any of this?

Trade blocking beats

Trade.

Brexit.

If all Brexit was going to affect was trade, then that would be bad enough, but it will leak into almost every area of life.

But back to trade.

And a few posts back I suggested that complaining about bending to EU rules being bad but standing up for the right for the same rules being dictated, literally, to by the US is somehow good, needs some explaining.

As a member state of the EU, the UK takes part in negotiations, sets to terms of reference (Brexit excepted) and has the right of veto for much of what the EU does. And a trading black of 28 countries has a very strong collective voice on the world stage of global trade, you only have to see how the EU sided with the UK when the US imposed punitive tariffs on product from a NI supplier. The collective voice and strength meant the US backed down.

As the 51st state, the UK would have to do what it was told, agree to diktats, otherwise be frozen out of be subject to punitive measures with no one to back us.

It all seems very risky to me.

But what do I know?

Well, signing off on a US-UK trade deal is not a gift the President can make alone. It needs ratifying by Congress. And Congress has underwritten the Good Friday Agreement (GFA), and several Senators have warned the UK, Naci Pelosi yesterday being the latest, that any Brexit that harmed the island of Ireland or undermined the GFA would mean any trade deal with the US would not be ratified. This could set up another Congress v Trump battle, but with chaos in NI likely to be under way, would be difficult to see an easy resolution.

And the word "trade deal" is the trouble too. I could agree a trade deal with the US tomorrow, doesn't mean it would be a good one. And that is the problem, dealing with a protectionist US President, who at best is unstable, and a very long track record of lying and breaking deals.

Why on earth would any country want to do this, unless there was something huge in it for them.....

Thursday 25th July 2019

Five (5) months to Christmas

Just so you know, and get the spouts on to boil. so they'll be ready for the big day.

Hotter than hell.

Yes, Thursday was forescasted, and was, the hottest July day in England on record.

And felt like it. Even if we live on the coast, it was hot. Damn hot.

Even by eight o'clock, the thermometer was showing the maximum temperature it could show. Damn!

Even shutting all the curtains, opening all the windows, sitting with no trousers on made little difference.

It was hot, and going to get hotter.

Jools went to work, left me at home to look after the cats and stuff. Though the cats either being all black or mostly black, knew to find somewhere cool and deep shade and vanished after being fed for the day.

I was alone.

And the month of summer vacation in DK went on and on. So, work was pretty quiet, so I monitored mails and calls, heck even switch the mobile back on after charging it.

Not much happened.

But it was hot, did I mention that?

At eleven, I went out to refill the bird feeders, not that there were any birds about, but it seemed right to go out seeing as the weather was fabulous.

Did I say fabulous, I meant hellish.

It was so hot, so hot that after literally a minute of being outside I was a ball of sweat.

I go back inside, sit on the sofa to work and watch Le Tour, and was even hotter. This is madness.

On Le Tour, in temperatures even hotter than here in St Maggies, the cyclists were entering the Alps, three massive mountain climbs starting at half eleven in the morning, going through until after 5, and keeping an average speed of close to 40mph or something.

I got hotter just watching them.

Phew.

At the same time I watching storms develop over France on a new stormwatching site, then drift over the sea and up the Channel towards east Kent.

Slowly they came, getting larger and larger.

Here in St Maggies, the skies began to darken, clouds gathered to the south and west, a hot breeze began to blow.

I cooked fried aubergine for dinner, served with salad and washed down with pink fizz.

And after, we took our wine glasses out to the patio to watch the storm build and listen to the thunder and gawp at the lightning strikes over the sea.

Soon, a hard rain began to fall, chasing us back inside, into the humidity of the house. Whilst all around lightning played and thunder rolled.

Dramatic stuff.

At half nine we went to bed, it still was hotter than hell, and the storm still rumbled on away over Thanet.

We fell into a fitful sleep.

What is going on?

Three years ago, many miles of news print and megabytes of storage space were spent on pondering if May really wasn't useless, but maybe had some kind of Machiavellian plan all along.

All that was rubbish, she really was crap, and was executing a dreadful policy, dreadfully using idiots to execute it.

Three years later, the same questions are being asked of Johnson: is he really that dumb, if not, what is the plan?

In one day, Johnson became PM and replaced almost every minister, putting in place people with no apparent skills of experience in the field they had been placed. Initially, this was seen as good, Brexiteers taking control, it would be their screw up. But what if this was a plan, to make the screw up certain?

On top of that, Johnson made his first speech in the Commons as PM, laying out that not only was the backstop undemocratic, but it would have to go completely. And be put in the Political Declaration (PD) where he said it belonged.

This was nuts, but he knew it.

And sure enough, a few hours later, the EU released a strongly worded statement saying that the backstop was going nowhere.

Is the plan to blame the failure of Brexit on the EU? And when that is an accepted truth, trigger an election in the hope of burying the Brexit Party?

With numbers in the Commons, this could make sense, re balancing numbers, so that whatever the real policy is can pass. Maybe Brexit was never the plan after all.

See what happens, we overthink things, and maybe he is just a bumbling tousle-haired upper class twit? But he is ambitious, he has the job he always wanted, and he must have a plan?

Whatever happens there will be an election this autumn, and the only way to stop Brexit will be for Labour to come out as a remain party, something which is unlikely (or Corbyn replaced), or the other parties make a grand alliance so that just one of them fight in each constituency so the remain vote isn't split.

Interesting times ahead, but not in a good way, as the economy, business and the people are stuck in the middle as this powerplay is played out.

Fuck our luck.

Wednesday 24th July 2019

Two years ago, we went to Yellowstone National park, and we brought back two jars of huckleberry jam, we used the small one straight away, but I was loath to use the larger, second on things like jam sandwiches, so we kept it, and so the jar got edged to the back of the fridge.

The Jools bought some Scottish oatcakes to go with the cheese, and there was some left over.

So out the two together, and you have a very pleasant mid-morning snack to go with a good strong brew.

I have gone from having no mid-morning snacks to really be looking forward to this treat. Huckleberry jam is different from other kinds of jam, is sweet and has no sharpness. I like it, so much so that after buying some on my west coast adventure in 2005, I seriously thought of importing a few jars at the cost of $36.

Those were the days.

Meanwhile: work.

I slept long and deep, despite the crazy high temperatures we have at the moment. So much so, it was Jools making coffee that woke me up at quarter to six.

Someone say "coffee?"

Indeed.

And it was going to be another very hot day.

I enjoyed the coolness of the early morning, the clear skies and bright sunlight away to the east. The air was full of insects already, busily feeding deeply from the good stuff in our garden.

I make a second coffee once Jools went for work, have breakfast and settle down to work.

By nine it was too hot, but this was just the start. Temperatures would climb and climb antil four in the afternoon when the heat and humidity reached their maximum.

Phew.

For four hours I work at the desk, then take my work laptop to the sofa to watch Lycra-clad athletes cycle through the French countryside in temperatures even higher than we have here.

How is that even possible?

I drink iced squash as they cyclists go up and down mountains, or what count as foothills in the Alps.

I reach for some more ice as they increase speed on an un-necessary sprint.

Work s slow, what with the project in the next phase and the ongoing summer holiday. I monitor mails and phone calls, the afternoon wears on and this stage of Le Tour comes to an end.

Yay.

I am stuck to the sofa, so peel myself off and prepare dinner after putting the work computer and screen away.

I am tempted to have a beer, maybe a large beer, but resist until Jools comes home, and we eat and drink beer/cider.

Over halfway though the week already.

We listen to the radio through the evening, waiting until dusk enveloped us. I stay up to watch a pass of the International Space Station at then, by which time it was nearly dark.

I see the moving point of light, coming from the west. It passes overhead then away into the east where it gets lost in the haze of summer pollution.

Work

When I ended my holiday at the end of May and travelled to Denmark, I really did not know what would greet me. In my mind, there was a chance I could be fired.

Looking back, I can see that if that was going to happen they would not have let me spend three grand booking a ten day stay just to fire me when I walked in the office. But still, those were dark days. But again, not as dark as the days before the vacation when the walls really were closing in around me.

Now, well, there are four or five of us, working on the quality track, I have the part I look after, except for the last three weeks when my successor went on holiday, and that is what I do.

I have caught up on the admin that needed to be done, chased people for replies and answers to issues, and begun to get paperwork that holds most jobs and businesses together, done.

Phew.

At the same time, I had applied for the new job. That began in April, and it wasn't certain they would even consider me.

They did, I had an interview, had to complete a test, and a personality test too. And I had one!

Then I got the job, and gave me time to see this project out before I started, well, nearly.

I now have an exit date from the project, though that doesn't absolve me of all responsibility, and my first task in the new job, the week after, is to visit a site in Scotland.

I have booked travel already, by train from Dover to Aberdeen, and looking forward to the train journey, looking out of the window for some eight hours.

Lastly, I did not know what I was going to be paid for the new job. I thought I might lose 20%, but the good news was that I am on the same money as before, so cash to travel and chase orchids. Which is obviously great.

I am happy again, smiling and laughing, and looking forward to the new job and the future.

At the crossroads

It is worth pointing out at this point the choices facing the country regarding Brexit. NB, these choices have not changed since February 2017 when the Article 50 notification was submitted to the EU.

Article 50 is the method in which a member state can leave the EU. Its author never intended the article to be used, so it it is not a complete legal framework, it was written to satisfy some states that complained there was no way of leaving.

Article 50 is the method which states, under international law, that the articles of the EU will no longer apply to a member state, it has a two year fixed term, which, unless another date is agreed, the member state will leave, no matter what, ready or not. Both sides.

Another way of leaving could have been via a treaty, which is how the UK joined, but this would have taken time, but in using a treaty, the issues could have been unpicked and solved on by one. The EU almost certainly would not have accepted the idea of a treaty, as the A50 method puts the clock on their side, and the turning of the pages of the calendar ramps up pressure on the state leaving.

Vote Leave said, in fairness, that A50 would only have been triggered once all the issues were sorted out, so the two years would have been a formality. This would have been sensible.

But the EU pressed the UK into its sequencing, meaning that negotiations on the WA could only happen once the A50 had been sent. DD said this was going to be the row of the summer, and yet under his negototiation, the UK capitulated on this issue on the morning of the very first day, thus giving the EU even more time based leverage.

A50 states that the two year period will produce a Withdrawal Agreement (WA), which would then trigger a (mostly) standstill transition period of a fixed term, during which the fine details of the UK and EU's relationship would be hammered out.

Originally, the A50 period was due to end on 29th March 2019, and the transition period December 31st 2020.

A strict timetable.

Accessing the transition period is only made via an agreed and ratified (by both sides) WA. No WA, no transition.

I hope you're paying attention, Johnson!

So, bearing in mind the above, the three choices facing the PM, any UK PM is:

1. Leave the EU via a WA

2. Leave the EU without a WA

3. Revoke A50 and stay on current terms.

There is a forth choice, to request a (further) extension to A50. The UK has requested this twice already, and signs are a third one would be rejected unless it is for:

1. A second referendum

2. An election

An election takes about two months from start to finish, but then the (possible) winner would need time to decide what to do and enact whatever (potential) mandate the electorate had given them.

A second referendum would take at least a year, maybe 18 months, so a substantial extension would be needed. This is to allow for primary and secondary legislation to be passed.

The current agreed WA leads to a very hard Brexit, but not until 2021, it has failed three times to pass the Commons, and Johnson has declared it undemocratic. Or the backstop in it. It is almost certain the only part of the WA that will be changed by the EU is to revert the backstop to apply to NI only. This was the original plan, until the UK requested it be changed as this would create a customs border in the Irish Sea. It is very hard to see how the DUP, who prop up the Conservative Government could ever accept this.

There have been various economic impact assessments done by several Government and independent agencies on no deal. The latest by the Office of Budget Responsibility states the average cost is a reduction in GDP of 7.7%. But this is not the worse case.

The EU have said in the event of no deal, there would be no "side deals", so no so-called "managed no deal" that many Brexiteers have spoken about. Indeed, in case of no deal, the pre-requisite for any talks beginning on anything between the UK and EU would be the three parts of the current WA; financial settlement, citizen's rights and the backstop. The UK can have the backstop as part of the WA or having to agree to it while planes don't fly and freight backs up on the motorway from Dover and there is food, medicine, fuel and energy shortages.

We need the Government to be honest about all of the above, but we have the king of liars in Number 10 now, and the disinformation has already started with social media blitzes.

Reality will win out, of course, but how the result is spun is another.

Despite a change of PM and Cabinet, the arithmetic in the Commons has not changed. Indeed with the purge of the remainers and soft Brexiteers, numbers will be even harder for a no deal to be passed. Thus setting up a constitutional battle between the executive and Parliament as to who commands who.

Here come the nationalists

My first wife was from the Former Yugoslavia. I mention this because, once the dictator, Tito died, the country began to fracture. Serbia was taken over by a dictator of a different hue, Slobodan Milošević, who played the nationalist card, stirred up centuries old hatred, and as if by magic, you have a Balkans war.

Nationalism is the last refuge of the rogue, so it should come as no surprise to discover that the new PM, yes, really, in one sentence stated his intention to bring the country together, but then with his next breath went on to describe those who want remain of a vision of Brexit different from his, as not believing in Britain. He said, "the doubters, the gloomsters" were wrong. They were trying to "bet against Britain".

Boris will try to renegotiate the WA, but if the EU reject that and the UK crashes out without a deal, it'll be the EU's fault. Johnson getting his excuses in early. But he was a leading, if not pivotal figure, in Vote Leave; shouldn't have had a plan?

So, there you have it.

And then, the announcements of the new cabinet began to slip out. The cabinet has 26, or so, members, at the last count, 16 ministries have new ministers.

In short anyone who backed Jeremy Hunt or spoke against the great Alexander Boris de Piffel Johnson was frozen out. Government is now manned by most who took part in Vote Leave, and after describing the backstop as "undemocratic", the country is heading for no deal unless Parliament can stop it.

It is a bad day for the UK, but on the good side, Conservative backbenches are now swelled in numbers by those sacked, resigned or overooked. This will not do his Parliamentary majority of 3, or 4 or 5, whatever it is after by elections and so on, is.

No deal or an election.

Tuesday 23rd July 2019

Hottest day ever in Burgundy.

No news on what the Duke thought, though.

It reached 41.5 degrees in France yesterday, and was pretty darned hot here too.

And is going to get hotter before the weekend arrives, at which point we will have rain.

So it goes, so it goes.

We wake up darned early, mainly because its so flippin hot.

So, more work.

Jools is already up making coffee and so on, so I go down, sans trousers, because its hot already.

She leaves for work, the cats go to find some cool dark place to see out the day, and I go round closing the curtains so to stop the sun warming the air in the house up like some fan oven.

It is, at least, breezy. Or is outside, but too hot in the sun to stay out, even with that breeze. But there is work to do.

So, I set up the work station, log on, and off we go.

I have to admit, that the project is quietening down, or the restricted part I now oversee. Which is nice. And my replacement is back from his holibobs, so the pressure really is off.

I am relaxed, I have sorted my inbox out so there is just two current ones on my to do list, the rest get dealt with and filed as they come in. Heck, I am even up to date with my travel expenses.

This is very odd.

At half eleven, I set up on the sofa to watch the first stage, for me, of this year's Le Tour. A flat and uninteresting stage, but seeing the Frech countryside roll by, and the wonderful villages full of smiling and waving people, just so excited to see the Tour pass by.

The afternoon passes by quickly, though is hot.

Dinner is to be chorizo hash, which demands to be accompanied by beer, even if there is a bottle of pink fizz in the fridge.

I needs beer.

Jools comes home, I cook, we eat.

Lovely.

By then, the sun had swung to the east and the top patio was in shade, cool enough to sit outside. and drink a coffee.

Phew, what a scorcher.

Went to bed as dusk came down and the bats emerged.

Another Tuesday, then.

Send in the clown

As UK politics has been a circus for four years since the coalition government ended, it is only right that we now have a genuine clown as ringmaster.

I have written enough about Alexander Boris de Piffel Johnson over the past few months and years, so will not dwell on him. But it is the shower of shite he will bring in as his cabinet that will hurt, MPs who have, time and time again show themselves unsuitable for any kind of office, even a fucking post office. Yet these shits will be in high office.

However, at the end of the day, the same choices await the new PM, if he is invited to form a Government today, that faced May. Deal, no deal or no Brexit. Either one will be breaking a promise he has made, so will be interesting.

In March, Brexit and reality came face to face with each other, and reality won. The same will happen in October, but some will be dogmatically made enough to embrace no deal. Whatever the cost to the country and people.

Since March, Brexiteers have fallen back on the same lies they told before, that the WA can be reopened, and the EU needs us more than we need them. If that was true, Brexit would have happened.

And yet, here we are. Chaos is coming.

Monday 22nd July 2019

It is an odd feeling getting up on a Monday morning with the thought that I would be working from home. No rushing out to catch the early train to Stratford, or trekking across London to Heathrow. Just a lazy breakfast, two coffees and setting up the office.

Why then, was I awake at four my mind going as if I had all the worries of the world on my shoulders? Not a scooby.

So, I lay in bed for over 90 minutes, waiting for the dawn chorus to start, though its not as loud as earlier in spring. Still, some birds were happy to be up and about at half four, chasing the early worms.

The worms said nothing on the matter, however.

We get up at half five, Jools makes coffee and the day is off and running.

Jools gets ready and is left the house in an hour. I have another coffee, a shower and get dressed, then check the weekend work mails before having a huge bowl of fruit and yoghurt for breakfast.

Here we are. Back in the groove.

The day goes well, though my plan to sit on the sofa to watch Le Tour is scuppered by the fact it was the second rest day. So I just work, drink tea and have lunch.

It is a warm day, with the BBC telling us the week will get warmer and warmer. So, once work is done, I go outside to deadhead the flowers and try to get a handle on how the lawn/meadow is going. I see that we have our own bird's-foot trefoil growing in two spots. This is a plentiful plant of chalk downlands, but now we have it in our garden, a great food plant for the caterpillars of many insects.

Yay.

I take its picture.

Several pictures.

I start to deadhead the swathes of wild carrot we have, before they seed and we have a forest of the stuff next year, but the battle is already lost.

My back grumbles though, so I retire to the patio, and Scully churls around my legs asking if its dinner time yet?

Dinner is sticky bbq chicken and fried potatoes and Boston baked beans, which is a wonderful dinner, along with a huge brew. Though I do have a small bottle of of Belgian tripel as I cook, Graham Kerr stylee.

Cheers.

And to the hot and humid evening, we sit listening to the radio, before going outside to sit on the patio and watch the sun go down, and bats come out to catch flies and moths.

Its a hobby.

The ages of man

What has four legs, then two, and finally three?

Or in Mum's case, six?

It's Mum.

I had a call from Mum's social worker today. Ann was of the same mind as us when she said it is time for mum to move into a home.

Maybe it is the curse of those who live to see their parent or parents live to their dotage, that we swap places and become adults?

I don't know, but that's how it feels.

Ann is preparing a list of care homes for Mum to look round, and maybe Mum will decide one to go to. But, Mum had failed to mention to Ann the equity release she has on the family home. A £thirty grand debt is now over seventy, and this fact means Mum's choices of possible homes is reduced, and the speed in which she can move is also changed. No longer will the council stump up the cash while the home is sold, most of that is now owed, so Mum will have to hope the council can find a place as a cheap but nice home.

If she decides to move. As no one can force Mum to move, if she doesn't want, and the council has to carry on supporting her there, no matter how hopeless things get.

Maybe, just maybe, the hopelessness of her situation has hit home; she listened, even turned the TV down.

There is nothing we can do. Nothing Ann can do. Nothing any amount of social workers, physios can do to make things better, just what Mum decides to do.

The lies, the pringles, the shortbread, the fags all come with a cost to be paid later.

When I said I don't think I'd see Mum again, I didn't think it might be this soon.

Her home will kill her if she's not careful, and is that worth a lifetime of memories? Maybe not.

Mum cannot now walk to the camode next to her chair unaided, let alone the bathroom. Such is her desperate position.

When the time comes, I will have to go up to clean her house out, and ask for the understanding of my employers to allow me time off.

Such is life.

The end of May

Theresa May will probably not be Prime Minister by the end of Wednesday.

I say probably, because Johnson or Hunt would have to be "invited" by the Queen to form a Government tomorrow. And there is a chance that might not happen, let us see.

But, should we pine for those long glorious days, spread over three years, of May's leadership?

No.

In my last post I suggested otherwise, but that really was for pining for the country as it is now, come November 1st, or even 17:00 tomorrow, it could be a very different place.

May, let us not forget, as Home Secretary, brought in the "hostile environment", which saw many non-UK nationals, and even British citizens illegally deported from the country. Some people died in an alien country because of her policies. This is something she carried on when she became PM.

On becoming PM, May had the opportunity to strike a conciliatory note, to bring the two sides together. Instead, in her Lancaster House Speech, she spoke of citizens of nowhere and ruled out jurisdiction of the European Court of Justice. This, by default, meant ruling out membership of the Single Market (SM) and Customs Union (CU).

It was said at the time, May got the UCJ and the European Convention on Human Rights mixed up, and in admitting this would be more embarrassing to her if she corrected that, so it was left. That might be true, sums up Brexit quite well.

And she made David Davies (DD) Minister for Brext, Boris Johnson Foreign Secretary and Liam Fox International Trade Secretary. In doing this, she split the FCO into three parts, making three silos and three competing departments, all hungry for trained and/or experienced staff.

The sequencing of the negotiations was to be the "row of the summer" two years ago, and yet the UK caved into the EU's demands, in what seemed like a positive move at the time, but meant that the WA had to be completed and ratified before talks on future trade could begin. The WA had just three parts, but the one on the Irish Border would proved to be problematic.

Problematic in that no Brexiteer had apparently ever thought about it, or had any plan in general about Brexit. Just get on with it, leaving the details to the same experts people like Michael Gove derided.

In trying to keep progress secret, the Government stored up problems and ill will, when after the legal challenge that resulted in Parliament having a vote on whether to trigger Article 50 meant they would also have a "meaningful vote" on the deal that was concluded, if there was one.

The WA, when it was concluded, was a dog of a thing, but spinning meant it survived getting approved by Cabinet and the DUP who kept May in power thanks to her ill-advised snap election in which she lost her working majority.

Only when the EU published the legal text did the shit it the fan, and yet those who approved it, must have know what it said, or did not understand it. Either way, in refusing to ratify the WA, the UK broke its word on the international stage, the Government negotiating a deal without the necessary political backing. A very bad look.

May only ever had three choices with Brexit. And that is true now as it was on 29th March 2017 when the A50 letter was sent. In failing to make that decsion as early as possible meant a problem gets bigger and critical with each passing minute.

Thanks to May, there can be no unification of the two sides of Brexit, those of us on the remain side were insulted, ignored over and over again. I will not moderate my position, since 52% was rounded up to 100% and 48& down to zero.

These have not been bad days, but worse ones are coming. But you and Camoron can take the blame for the end of days coming.

The end of the "good" times

Despite me saying over and over, how bad a Prime MInister May was, I suspect it won't be long before we are looking back on her premiership as some kind of nirvana. Despite her dreadful and dull leadership, it was steady, and although she drove the UK towards ever harder Brexit outcomes, the UK was still in the Eu and car manufacturers, Airbus, steel making, the European Medicine Agency all were still in the country, though not for long.

Some have left, some soon will.

And there will be no going back.

Today, the result of the Tory leadership contest will be announced, and it seems inconceivable that Johnson won't win.

Ministers are resigning already in preparation for the JOhnson premiership, one hoping to force a vote in the Commons today to find out whether the new leader can command a majority and be a legitimate Prime Minister. The Speaker refused this, which is a shame, as it delays the upcoming crisis. And it is likely that Conservative MPs will fall in line, for now, and wait until September to see how Johnson's policies develop before deciding whether to conspire against him.

Make no mistake, a crisis is coming, and the later it is left the more severe it will be, but with the chance of a six week holiday with no Brexit to think about, is just too tempting.

So, another six weeks of the six months extension will be wasted, and we will be in September, seven weeks from Brexit. The after a couple of weeks, conference season, and it will be October.

Still, good we did not waste the time, eh?

Sunday 21st July 2019

Sunday.

Not many orchids to look at, so shall we have a weekend off gallivanting about, or go look for butterflies instead?

Butterflies won out, of course.

Two weeks ago, i went to Ham Street Woods reserve and had a fine morning in which I saw many species, including a lifer, seeing a Purple Hairstreak.

I asked Jools if she would like to go there and see the butterflies herself. She said she would.

So, after breakfast, we loaded the car and set out for Ashford, then out towards the Romney Marsh, heading for Ham Street.

Ham Street is an odd place, it has no church, but then the idea of parishes predates towns, and where towns are now won't reflect where churches were built in antiquity. Nearest churches are at Warehorne, Snave and Ruckinge. So, its a place I don't know well, other than a place to pass through to get somewhere else.

But in the centre of the village, if you turn down a dead end lane where there is a bricked up pill box, at the end is a parking area for the reserve.

We ended up there after negotiating the roadworks on the motorway and through Ashford, then out across the marshes being tailgated by a Post Office truck.

We park the car, and walk through the wood to the long gallop I had seen before. Being in a wood, it was mostly in shade, so not much on the wing, but the day would quickly warm up.

As we walk along, I see the Silver Washed Fritillaries high in the trees, but soon they are coming down to feed. And at the main intersection, I get a clear shot of a fresh out of the packet male.

Further on I am looking at some flies, honest, when Jools points out a White Admiral is just through the leaves of the bush. I stick my lens through and snap it before it glides off.

It is all rather pleasant, we end up at the far side of the reserve, so turn round and walk back. There are dozens of Gatekeepers, Ringlets, Large Whites, Peacocks. So many Peacocks, never seen so many.

We were spoilt. I was spoilt.

We drive home for lunch.

And then after seeing a friend's shots of Sussex Violet Helleborines, I thought we had better check our local patch.

We drive out again, nip up the A2 to Barham, then along the narrow lanes to the special layby.

The wood is still, not a sound or breath of wind moves the air.

I take my camera with flash fitted, and the bulky tripod, and we walk up the gently sloping wooded down. My back complained.

I press on, then we turn up the steepest part, and I am expected to see flowering spikes, I am all excited, and I see. Spikes. Unfurling.

At least a week off.

We go on looking for the other clumps we found over the last two years, and fine none. In all we find just 11 spikes, and only 9 have flowering spikes.

Bugger.

Oh well, always next week. Or the week after.

We walk back to the car, we going across the down looking for the mystical Ghost Orchid. A futile endeavour, as its never been recorded in Kent, but there's no reason it shouldn't be here, comditions are perfect and its well within its habitation range. But I find nothing, of course.

We return home for ice cream sitting in the back garden before Jools prepares nachos for dinner, with her own spicy salsa.

Yummy.

The evening shaows lengthen, and Jools gets the Uckers board out so I can beat her again. Which I do.

And that was the, nearly, three day weekend.

All over.

Just sickening

So, today, my MP and MP for all other Dovorians, Charlie Elhicke, was charged with assaults on two women. These charges date back two years.

Once the allegations became public, Elphicke had the whip withdrawn. Yet reinstated even though the police were investigating, just so he could support the PM in a vote of confidence last year.

Yes, that's right, the Conservatives stooped so low that they reinstated the party whip even though there was an open police investigation on for sexual assault.

There is no shame.

They have no shame.

One of the good things that might come is that there might be a by-election.

But now he has had the whip withdrawn. Again, the Conservative majority could be two, if Elphike votes, and against the Government.

In summary: the PM, a former Home Secretary, would rather rely on the vote of a possible sex offender than face losing a vote of no confidence. There really is no honour left in the office of Prime Minister. And then, tomorrow, Boris Johnson will be made leader, and probably PM.

Is there no end to the humiliation?

So, we walked on the moon, Brexit should not be beyond us

Or so says PM-elect, Boris de Piffel Johnson.

NASA used knitted computer code, Johnson writes in today's Torygraph column, then surely it is not beyond the wit of man to solve the Irish backstop?

Sounds simple enough, but to be put simply, the backstop only kicks in when all else fails: maximum facilitation (maxfax), technological solutions or alternative arrangements. So, when alternative arrangements fail to solve the issue, only then will the backstop come into play.

So, what Johnson and the other Brexiteers are suggesting is that the way to solve the failure of alternative arrangements is alternative alternative arrangements. This is clearly silly, but this is what happens if we allow people like Johnson and Farrage to over-simplify things.

In addition, the solution would have to be within WTO rules, and be acceptable to the EU27, and if they say "no" then it won't work.

Simple.

Brexit is and never was a purely UK policy, it affects the EU too, and to get the Brexit the UK wants, the EU has to accept the solution too. This is the conundrum of Brexit, in that taking back control we still have to share control with the EU. This is a fact of international trade, not the EU trying to keep us in the EU.

If alternative arrangements were possible in the short to medium term, Brexiteers wouldn't worry. That they are worried and whine like bitches shows that such solutions are more than a decade away.

So, yes, its not beyond the with of man, but like Deep Thought said, it might take some time.

Oh, and the UK is due to leave the EU on 31st October, so time is precious.

But then Parliament goes on a six week recess at the end of Thursday......

And finally, if coding is so easy, Boris, you do it!

Saturday 20th July 2019

50th anniversary of the moon landing or Apollo 11.

There was quite a bit about on TV and radio. And in the papers too, probably, but we don't have newspapers any more.

Jools had been shopping, and so we had a house full of food, nothing to go to Tesco for, so we could laze around the house. I could, Jools went on the cross trainer, made the beds, fed the cats and so on. I made coffee. And prepared the fruit for breakfast.

There still the chance of storms, so we decided to hold fire before going out for some orchiding. Jools went swimming, then to down into Dover and then to Deal to buy some wool to make a cardigan.

And I stayed home listening to Huey.

I found out about an archaeological dig going on at Lyminge church, and there was an open day with an optional tour, so I said we would go there first, then up to Bonsai Bank to look for orchids.

Perfect.

Lyminge is one of my favourite churches. It looks ancient, and is, but not in the way you might think. The plaster dressing was stripped away, revealing the stonework behind, sometimes in the Victorian era, something that the church never looked like. But, the church has a long history, built on an abbey founded by Queen Ethelburga in the 8th century, and the church we see today, Normal and medieval, was built on the remains of the original church.

And it was that Anglo-Saxon church, or the remains thereof, that were being looked for.

We parked outside the church, the usual path under the single flying buttress holding the south-east corner of the Chancel now out of bounds, as the path beynd was where the dig was happening.

We went through the other gate, round the back of the church, and up to a viewing platform, and there, below, jutting out from the porch was the nave and apse beyond, maybe three layers of stone high, showing the footprint of the church.

And that is it. Some more digging is going to happen, maybe finding other artefacts. The grave of the Queen, who was made a Saint, was found in the 19th century, beside the wall of the existing church, but in digging that, the wall and side chapel of the Saxon building was destroyed. We didn't need to do the tour, so we left before it started, declining tea and biscuits.

A twenty minute drive across the downs and up Stone Street took us past Park Gate Down through Petham and from there to Denge Wood.

In late April and through May the area is busy with orchidists and butterfly hunters. In June and July, hardly anyone comes here, just a few dog walkers.

We walk down the long woodland walk, amazed at how the path is so overcrowded this time of the year, so much so that two people couldn't walk side by side.

Along the path were all sorts of flowers and plants: lots of Rosebay Willowherb, Greater Willowherb, Hogweed and Giant Hogweed and many, many others. And the air was full of insects. Lots of butterflies; Gatekeepers, Ringlets, Peacocks and several species of dragonflies. Further along habitat changed, and Marbled Whites could be seen, many of them infected by mites.

Further along we see our quarry, four spikes of Broad Leaved Helleborines. But just one in flower, but a fine colour it was . I think it was worth the walk to see this, but then I'm an orchid nerd.

We walk back through the reserve to snap a few Lady Orchid spikes long gone to seed for a friend, then back along the woodland walk to the car.

The sun was still high and warm, and that was enough. So, once back at the car, we drove back to Petham back onto Stone Street to Bridge and then via the A2 to home.

Phew.

Back home we had the last of the stinky cheese I had brought back from France last week, then followed by gooseberry crumble and custard. Which was very nice indeed.

And that was our day, we chilled in the evening, listened to music, and at en past nine, went to bed.

Phew.