Saturday 30th May 2020

Nearly at the end of the month.

We should get out more!

It is the weekend, Jools had done the shopping, so no need to stay inside or have to do other stuff, so what to do?

Well, here's the thing. I am not quite as orchid obsessed as I used to be. I mean, I still like an orchid, but the idea of going out for eight or more hours treking from site to site just hasn't happened this year. Instead, just one or two sites on Saturdays and Sundays, and happy with the pictures taken at each site of each species.

Who saw that coming?

In some years we might visit Bonsai half a dozen times in a month. We have been once this year I think. Yockletts three times. PGD twice. Woolage twice.

So, with the main part of the season fading into high summer, thoughts go to Bees and Lizards, which means a reurn trip to Sandwich Bay estate, and if I'm honest, the three mile or so walk along the beach each way, being flat is very pleasant, and at the end of the outward leg is the thought of dozens if not hundreds of lizards and maybe a Bee or two.

But the reason for going this weekend are Broomrapes.

Broomrapes are an unusual semi-parasitic plant, where each member of the family leeches off a different host species. The most common is Ivy Broomrape, but there are broomrapes that feed off Knapweeds, broad beans and so on. Most are very rare, some are amazingly so. At Sandwich Bay, one of the rarest grows, Bedstraw Broomrape, aka the Clove-scented Broomrape. Normally, the height of Lizard season is just after Broomrape season, and all that is left are desiccated spikes.

So, a couple of weeks early, maybe some early Lizards, and some late Broomrapes.

I hoped.

We had coffee, and were out of the house before seven, driving up the coast to Deal, parking at the far end of the promenade, right by the site of the old Sandown Castle. From there it is a three and a half mile walk along the shingle bank to Sandwich Bay, which isn't an actual bay as such. But it was sunny, not too windy and not many people about.

Jools said she was going to take her time and do some litter picking, so I set off on my own, striding out, though with eyes on plants on either side of the path in case I spotted anything interesting worth snapping.

I was walking into a light headwind, but nothing bad. I made good time, though the first mile-marker took ages to reach, and it was covered in dumped dog poo bags.

Lovely.

I press on pass the golf course, where a small army of people are getting the course ready; watering the greens, putting the flag in the holes, tee markers and so on.

I walk on, finally reaching the start of the estate after an hour.

The houses are large and grand, but it is protected and they have some fine flora living there, so it is worth the effort, and I try to suppress my republican urges as someone seems to own a stretch of coastline, but there is free access, so not all bad.

Past the houses, to the start of the next (!) golf course, where on the side of the road, spikes of the crazy Lizard Orchids were beginning to flower. I knew that futher down there would be more spikes and that's where the broomrapes would be.

Of course that meant an extra mile walk, each way, but for orchids, it was worth it.

I snap several Lizard spikes, including greener ones next to the fence separating the public right of way from the golf course. On the dunes most of the grass has been flattened by visitor's cars, but in softer places the orchids are thriving still. ANd there were the brown spikes of broomrape spikes gone to seed.

There is one spot where there are normally two or three Bee Orchid spikes, and should be in flower. I find one spike, not quite in flower. It might open that day, or later. Or not.

Oh well. A two mile walk to see one small flower spike. Still closed.

On the way back I walk through the dunes, and in one slack I find a small broomrape undried, and after snapping it, I lean closer and sniff: a hint of clove!

Yay.

I stand up, tighten my belt and look some four miles in the distance where the buildings of Deal rise from the beach.

Here we go.

There were more people about now, most with dogs, but I am left alone to wind my way back.

I meet Jools mid-way between Deal and Sandwich, she had collected lots of junk from the baech and path, and now the bag was very heavy. So, we carry on back to Deal and the car.

We get to the car, turn round and drive back home, passing a line of dozens of cars coming into the town, obeying Johnson's advice that they can go to the beach. So they are.

We go home, open all the windows and put the kettle on. As you do.

And so we frittered away the rest of the morning and afternoon.

I cook lunch, breaded chicken, new potatoes and sweet chilli stir fry. It works together very well.

But at four, we had a change of plan. Or a break from the old routine. With the regulations being relaxed, we had decided that we would have our first cards gathering since the beginning of March.

We collect John, then go to Jen's where there is a table set up on the patio. We kept a metre apart, but after chatting, did play cards, a gentle warm up to the serious business starting the next week.

It feels almost normal. We laugh, we drink, we eat and laugh some more. John tells stories, and we laugh yet again.

We finish at quarter past nine with it being quite chilly, but Jools scoops the jackpot and she and I laugh some more!

We drop John back home, then return home ourselves.

Feels almost normal.

Hope this is a permanent thing, not just a blip, some glimpse of normality that will be snatched away again.

Great British common sense

In lieu of an actual plan for loosening the lockdown, two weeks ago, PM Boris Johnson, said he was going to rely on Great British Common Sense.

I remarked at the time that the ting about common sense is that it isn't that common.

And then came Commingsgate, and an announcement announcing a further loosening to start from June 1, just before the hottest, sunniest weekend of the year. Johnson also suggested it was fine for people to visit the beach.

The British public, bypassin common sense got in their cars and drove to the coast. So much so, the beach at Durdle Door was jam packed. Which would have been bad enough, but three people ignoring common sense completely, decided to jump off the cliffs into the sea, seriously injuring themselves. This needed not one, but two air ambulances to be called, and so half the beach was fenced off whilst the copters landed, thus squeezing the sunbathers into half the space.

That is what Johnson was calling upon to show people knew what they should and shouldn't have been doing.

Meanwile, police in Brighton spent the day helping people from the beach drunk, sunburnt or both.

So much for common sense.

And tomorrow, horse racing returns, some schools can partially open, though all the public schools for posh kids will remain closed until September, so make of that what you will. But I'm sure those primary school kids will exercise common sense and keep a 2m distance from each other.

Meanwhile, too dangerous for more than 50 MPs to be in the Commons at once, but that's because they don't have common sense I suppose. But meing members of the House of Commons you would have thought they had lots.

Still.

And from tomorrow, all those listen in vulnerable groups will be able to leave home. I would suggest, with great respect, to stay home, stay safe.

Friday 29th May 2020

It am Friday.

It is a normal weekend here in Kent, but a three day weekend in Denmark, so my colleagues are planning trips to their summer houses or the beach. They can even get haircuts.

Back here in Kent, we do the usual stuff before work: being a Friday, Jools doesn't have work, but has a yoga class at half six. At the same time I do some phys, have a shower and am ready for work.

As I have the morning meeting, Jools finished her class and goes to Tesco for supplies.

I suppose the last three months have been surreal. Normal but not normal. Some colleagues have been busier than normal, others not so. I fall into the second group. But gives me time to think and plan activities in the new year.

Which all sounds exciting, especially when you factor in the fun travel and things we have planned. Let's hope things are back to normal by then.

Jools returns at quarter to ten, so I can help her unload the car, but at then have to have a one:one meeting with my boss.

After lunch I have done all my weekly admin, so we decide to go out. Orchiding.

For years, our best Bee Orchid site has been in Pegwell Bay, so we will drive there, and maybe check the nature reserve nearby too, for SMO?

Perfect.

We dive to Sandwich, then out the other side to Cliffsend, parking on a side street as the area around the Viking Ship is closed to cars. But such things is legal now.

I take my cameras and we walk to the entrance, then down past the ship to the steps, which used to lead to the hoverport, but now lead to the area that nature is reclaiming. Only a new sewer is being laid, so in the middle of the wildlife are port-a-cabins, plant and cars. I hope they won't expand their job and do anything for to the site, as it feels very special.

Where there used to be dozens of spikes, I don't see any. Not a rosette. Its what happens sometimes, I guess. Three dry years have killed the rhizomes, and they won't return, or they might just be dormant. But no Bees.

I find the yellow Man orchids, they are less numerous, and I may be wrong, but there seemed to be less spikes than before, but they could have just dried out.

And no Southern Marsh to be found either. There was a large group that was increasing in the shade of a bush, no sign this year.

With gangs of youths shouting whilst they cycled, we walk back to the steps and the car, hopeful that the reserve would provide happier hunting.

A two minute drive, and we nip over the road and into the reserve. Where the paths would be dotted with spikes, there were none.

Even in the cleared area, where there used to ba a hybrid spike 27 inches tall, just a couple of sorry spikes almost crowded out by the field horsetails. No more than a dozen spikes on the whole site.

We turn round and leave or we would have been mown don by a family of six and their three dogs. We escape to the car and drive home.

Not the best afternoon orchiding, with most of my targets missing.

Sigh.

But it is Friday afternoon, it is the start of the weekend.

Back home, I review what shots I had taken, then get dinner ready. Shop-bought BBQ ribs (very poor) home made chips (better) and wine. Wine is always good.

For the evening, we listen to the wireless, then it is Gardener's World to round things off.

Almost felt quite normal.

Experts

Three members of the Government's SAGE advisory panel have publicly said that it is too early to lift restrictions.

Further relaxing will happen on Monday with some schools opening further.

8,000 new infections are being discovered every day, nationally, and that is too high a number to track and trace. There is no working test, track and isolate system in place, but those who point this out are just being "negative".

Of course.

Maybe we don't believe in Boris enough?

Meanwhile, one million people have lost their job since March 1st, but Dominic Cummings is not one of them.

I'm sure this all normal and the country will be fine.

Be positive.

If Johnson can't or won't sack Cummings, is it because he can't be PM without Cummings? In which case Johnson isn't good enough to be pM. Or is it that Cummings has so much shit on Johnson? In which case Johnson should not be PM.

Simple.

Enjoy your weekend.

Thursday 28th May 2020

Work.

But, you know it pays for everything else.

So, we have to do it, until we can afford not to, too ill to or dead.

I plan to enjoy at least some of my life in retirement.

But for now, there is work.

With the bank holiday and 5 day weekend, my phys program was out of whack, I should have done some phys, but decide to have a rest day, which means, in theory, I have an hour to procrastinate in the morning and still be prepared for starting work at half seven. But, as always, I listen to something on the radio, or a podcast, and I scramble to set the computer up and be ready for the meeting.

We are all still well. And in Denmark they have a three day weekend to look after.

I don't.

So, we have the meeting and I spend the morning updating the audit database, creating cases and so cross-referencing them with activities.

I am a busy boy.

I have lunch; cheese toasties, as they are da bomb. A brew.

And I ponder how to fill the afternoon.

I make calls and arrange meetings for next week, and that takes another couple of hours.

And at three, I go for a walk. I decide Windy Ridge should be the destination. You know the way by now, over the fields to Fleet House and the pigs. I take no shots, instead wait until I look out from in front of the copse over the Kingsdown and the sea.

From there, down past the farm and the long drag up the the wood.

I see nothing new or of interest, really, just glorious to be out, the wind in my hair and the sky full of larks singing.

I reach the top of the climb and take the lane beside it. I realise I have never been down this lane, or this part of it. It is green and overgrown, like the half I had already walked down.

But I take shots anyway.

I walk on, to the lane leading down the down, down to Collingwood.

I did spot a couple of Speckled Wood butterflies, and i got a fairly decent shot of the woodland butterfly basking on a leaf in sunlight.

And down to home, where there is a glass of iced squash to be made and drunk.

Phew.

No chance of the session on the cross trainer my mind had toyed with. Instead I go for a shower and feel human again.

Dinner is aubergine again, coast with panko, and is wonderful, and I have it all cooked as Jools walks in the door, so all she has to do is pour the wine.

She is finished for the weekend, and I have just six hours or so on Friday.

As usual, the evening is quiet; radio and writing. Too chilly to sit outside, so we nurse the last brews of the days as the evening slips by.

I hope I am wrong

There is no plan.

Not one based on science anyway. Either here in the UK or the US, just a release of the lockdown and a return to normal without social distancing, protecting the weak and the old.

There will be thousands, hundreds of thousands more deaths.

Its not that there isn't a plan, really, just one that involves the economic sacrifice of low value life being thrown on the pyre for the sake of the economy.

Which here in the UK the Government will then thrown on the pyre too in the name of Brexit and independence.

An economy which is trying to recover, has to then cope with a country putting economic sanctions on itself. It is madness.

And is going to happen.

The UK Government is pushing now for no deal in trade negotiations and say it will not ask for an extension even if one were offered.

We will start our Brexit stockpile in September, now we know what people will panic buy.

Those in high risk groups have their extended lockdown ended at the end of June. The virus is still there, racing through the population, it will still kill and send thousands into the ICU of yet more isolation isn't self-imposed.

The Government is now openly hiding information on numbers of testing. It failed to show those numbers for three days, this was pointed out on Wednesday, but same result on Thursday. Data unavailable. Without testing, tracing and isolations of those who have had contact, the virus will spread until it has swept through the whole population.

An infection rate of 1% could leave over 600,000 dead. Increase that infection rate, increase the dead.

All avoidable, even now, but the speed of unlocking is increasing, there is no science or data to back this up.

Also, the Government is shutting down scrutiny. The press conference now doesn't allow follow up questions, mutes difficult questions and Johnson stops questions being asked of the scientists. The virtual parliament is being scrapped, but still only 50 MPs are allowed on the Commons at any time, the voting lobby cannot be used and the Government has failed to come up with an alternative, probably on purpose.

Good luck, you're gonna need it.

@ChrisGiles_.

Update: following today's data from hospitals, a cautious estimate of the number of UK excess deaths linked to coronavirus up to 28 May is 64,000

Of these 59,537 have happened and the rest are estimates over the past 2 weeks

64,000 would be a rate of 960 per million

ENDS

Yesterday, ITN news disclosed they have documents that show discharging infected patients from hospital into care homes was their policy, and there is strong evidence that it is still happening. So much for that protective ring, Matt?

We are being played, and are going to lose.

Finally, Durham police did not clear Cummings.

Had they had stopped the family on the "eye tst" drive to Barnard Castle, they would have advised the drive to return to their house in Durham.

If the driver had refused, then the police could have imposed a FPN.

Had Cummings refused to pay or challenged that, it might have gone to court.

But he was not cleared.

Big announcements

Well, what with the lockdown and stuff, I thought you might like to hear about some stuff.

First of all, I have appointed a real estate agent to sell Mum's house. It took some time for the paperwork to go back and forth, but one was legally appointed on Tuesday, listed that day, and within 24 hours to firm bids received.

Yesterday a third, larger bid was received.

I spoke to my solicitor this morning, where we discussed things, she suggested seeing if there was more on offer. Two grand was offered.

We took it. I took it.

Now paperwork will be drawn up and the wheels of the conveyancing process will be started, and may take 12 weeks or more, if there are no hold ups or snags.

So, I need to spell out what this will mean for us and our finances.

Eeeek.

We have two new sites starting up in the UK next year, and it will be part of my job to conduct audits to make sure things are on track.

One site is on the Tees coast at Seaton, and the other is north of Inverness in Invergordon. Just north of Invergordon is Tain, where the Glenmorangie distillery is.

Just saying. I will be going to each at least twice, if not more often.

As well as my other duties round the UK.

Now the big stuff.

Holibobs.

Depending on how the unlocking goes, but we are hoping to go on a road trip to France in the autumn. That may not happen, but that is what is keeping us going for now. We would drive to Burgundy, Region Auvergne and Region Aquitaine.

Next May I am going on an orchid tour of Rhodes. Where I will meet the author whose book I in a small way helped to finish, and see up to 50 species of orchids in 7 days. This is booked! Jools will not be joining me, as the logistics and thought of seven days orchiding just too much.

And then, in December 2021, or late November, we plan to fly to the other side of the world to visit New Zealand. Go to Wellington and then tour the south island. Its all too exciting to think too hard about.

But this is all pretty much mindblowing.

News as we get it.

Wednesday 27th May 2020

Mum's 76th birthday. Or would have been.

Pay Day.

In fact, that's not correct, as it was double pay day. As in my contract I was entitled to an extra month's pay after ten year's service, and although due to an administrative cock up, it was paid a month late. But paid.

The tax man took his share.

But. Double pay.

Wow.

The sun now rises so far in the east that we don't see any light from it direct until it has been up for half an hour, so I lay in bed wondering if its cloudy or just early.

I came down the stairs and Jools was checking mails and our bank account and she said, do you know how much is in our ban account?

I didn't, but was at least expecting it.

Yay.

And through the day all I bought was 16 more bottles of tripel. But I did have a shock as their website was almost sold out. But my favourite was still in stock.

Yay, beer. Or bier.

But Wednesday, the new Tuesday.

I drink my coffee, go and do a session on the cross trainer. Get ready for work, make breakfast and another coffee.

All set for work.

I am in a good mood all day. Outside it was sunny, but a cool wind did blow. I looked and thought it not butterfly stalking weather. So don't go for a walk. I should have, obviously.

Lunch is warmed through aubergine and some toast, which hits the spot.

I am still in a good mood.

The day fades out into atrophy, I do a session on the cross trainer. In the warm weather, it is hard.

Then a shower and clean clothes, and time to mix up a batch of courgette fritters, adding extra chilli flakes to add "zip".

Which works.

They have zip.

I have just about cooked them all when Jools comes back from work, she pours the wine, and we sit down to eat.

Lovely.

We munch our way through the pile o fritters, mostly vegetables and all good things. Apart from the two packs of lardons I added, which add "bacon".

And that was your day, we were all done by nine, so go to bed.

Phew.

Regulations broken

This afternoon Durham Constabulary issued a statement which said: "might have been a minor breach of the Regulations that would have warranted police intervention" in relation to Cummingsgate. This would have been a verbal warning and instruction to return home, which they could have issued a FPN if Cummings had refused.

David Allan Green says this amounts to: "means there was a breach, but not one sufficiently seriousness for more than advice."

And this was all it was ever going to be, as the lockdown was issued under Public Health regulations not Public Order. But clearly, goes against the Government message he literally helped write to stay home.

The Attorney General is now under pressure as she issued a supportive statement on Monday saying no regulations had been broken. He postion, a political appointment, but her first loyalty is to the law and party second, and it seems she may have got that wrong.

All this to protect a Special Advisor.

In the end, I hope it was worth it. Meanwhile, 60,000 plus people have died, the Government's public health message will now be ignored risking a second wave, and trust in Johnson has crashed.

All this to protect a Special Advisor.

On Tuesday there were no deaths in Ireland from COVID, in the UK there were 412. Coutries next to each other, and yes, Ireland is smaller. But no deaths. They did a lockdown on about March 10th, a week before St Patrick's Day, it took the UK another two weeks to do that, two weeks in which over three quarters of those who have died were infected. An earlier lockdown in the UK and many, many less people would be dead.

Leading the world

In figures announced this morning, the UK is now only second behind the US in the number of excess deaths in the world. Over 60,000 in a report released by the FT, which has been doing this for some weeks now.

The UK has done considerably worse than Sweden, that did nothing and left all shops, bars, restaurants open. The UK did worse. A lot worse.

And figures also show that the later a country left the lockdown the worse the death rate was. The UK was the last in Europe, except Sweden, and is far ahead of Spain and Italy, who had the disease first and had less warning.

The decision when to lockdown the UK was purely a political one. And there is one person in charge of politic decisions, Coco the Clown. I mean Boris Johnson.

The UK is leading even the US in excess death rate per million.

Yay us.

And today, the Government is rolling out it test, track and quarantine plan. Evidence from those who have been eployed to trace says they have received no training, the software does not work. And this should have been in place when restrictions were loosened two weeks ago, and schools are due to return next week so local hotspots of the virus can be identified and locked down.

Without that we are playing Russian roulette.

We will know soon enough if there is a second wave of infections, but with the Government "forgetting" to publish numbers of people tested this week until it was pointed out, we will not really know how well or how poorly the new testing and trace process is working.

Johnson, as we have seen this week, is totally unsuitable to be PM, made or failed to make decisions in a timely manner, and is the person who has already decided what will happen in the next stage, even though he got it so wrong last time. Maybe he doesn't know or care what happens to tens of thousands of people? Listening to him waffling last night on the kind of detail a Prime Minister should know, and his admittance he doesn't read scientific briefings, did know about loopholes in the Governments financial support schemes, and the difficulties self-employed, those on zero hours contracts, or EU citizens who are now sleeping on the streets.

He didn't know. Or didn't care.

And still thinks we should all move on from Cummingsgate and do our duty to isolate if told to. But in exceptional circumstances don't. Or something.

Tuesday 26th May 2020

Back to work.

Five days off and we want more.

Always more.

I am awake, hear the alarm go off, then fall back to sleep. I wake up at half five or later to find the coffee Jools had made was going cold.

It would have been easy to dodge the daily phys. But I had done that four out of fve days over the weekend, so back to work, back on the phys.

I do 20 minutes.

And all is, if not well, but better. We have let things slip over the last couple of weeks, and I have put weight on.

Oh dear. So, stopping phys is not an option.

I do 20 minutes, cool down, make JOols a cuppa and get ready fr work. I have a long day ahead, including my annual appraisal.

Oh dearie, dearie me.

We have the early morning meeting, giving me time after to check my inbox for urgent mails, then it is time for the appraisal. I could not find anyone willing to say anything negative I head my boss say. Clearly, they had not tried hard enough, I could think of two or three who would have a different view. But I will take that.

I have a glowing assessment for the past year, and clear targets for the forthcoming year.

And we are done.

Wow.

I am made for this job, and I have the skills to improve things. But to hear it said bac to me is quite breathtaking.

Yay, me!

I have an early lunch, then another meeting in which I help someone. They are happy too.

I am good at this.

Apparently.

I have another brew to back up the one I had for lunch.

Come half two I have to eave and go to the doctors to collect my and Jools meds for the next month.

Nothing to be worried about, just to pick up my monthly meds.

So, why not go for a longer walk via the Dip and Cliffs, back via the surgery and be home in time for tea and medals?

Why not, and glad I was to take my camera as I fund and snapped a Clouded Yellow not half a mile from Chez Jelltex, and how impressed I am my ability to identify a butterfly species whilst at rest or in flight, and in the case of the Clouded Yellow, spotted the difference of the large butterfly on the wing showing a bright orangy-brown upper wing, of which I had not seen before.

Further on, I found a small meadow with a few sheep who were curious at me walking by. But I observed social distancing rules and let them be to their lush green afternoon snack.

By then I was looking down at The Dip, so I took shots for it's fans worldwide.

Up the other side, one step at a time, because I am not a horse, then along the cycle path to the top of Otty Bottom Road before striking out over the top of the downs.

As you do.

Across the tops of the down to the cliffs and young ladies sitting on chairs flattening wildflowers, discussing the best side to take a selfie. I could feel my braincells dying as I listened.

I looked down the coast line to Kingsdown, then walked inland, towards the quacks and then home.

Worth it, though.

I walk back through the village, to the surgery. I knock on the door and when the assistant comes, explain what I wanted. 5 minutes later, I have the meds and begin the final leg of the walk, back down to the old Red Lion and down Station Road to home.

I had no time for phys, just enough time to have a pint of squash, and get down to skinning and slicing the aubergine, egg and breadcrumbing it. And in a twist, when I run out of breadcrumbs, switch to panko, as a good friend tipped me off to that.

And how great and light were those fritters?

Lovely.

We have dinner, wash up, then have a coffee. NO ice cream though.

I am behind my editing and writing, but I had promised Jools a game of Uckers. Which I win.

Yay.

And by nine, time for bed, and some well earned zeds.

We all knew (part 2)

We assume that public schooled toffs are breastfed debates by their nannies. And so anyone who went to Eton and Cambridge would be of such high calibre that there were undefeatable.

And then, along came Johnson.

The Boris thing is an act, and underneath he is a real genius, ambitious and clever, a match for anyone.

And yes, we saw in the Conservative Leadership campaign, and the following election, a real fear of debate and scrutiny. For a graduate of the English public school sytem, debating of almost any subject is second nature. And yet almost every opportunity of actual debate ether with leaders of other parties or any serious radio or TV show was avoided.

Turns out he is no great mass-debater. He is lazy. Lazy to the point he admitted tonight he only reach scientific papers in extreme circumstances. 65,000 people or more have died through the virus. I mean, how much more serious would things have to be for Johnson to actually read a SAGE paper? Or understand the fact that many colleges and universities are facing financial ruin, or people can't get any kind of childcare and might need financial help in this.

This seemed like breaking news to the PM. As did the subject of quarantine for people flying into the country form June 1st. THis has been an issue for weeks, and yet for Johnson in front of a committee of senior MPs, it was like this was news.

How can we take anyone serious when they put the fate of his friend and advisor ahead of the public health of the very country is supposed to be leader of?

The emperor is naked and we can all laugh, but 65,000 people have died, and the same people who made the decisions that brought us here will make the decisions of the next step. It is what I have said for weeks, true then, true now.

Johnson must go, Cummings must go. And yet they have to take ownership of the decisions that got us as a country that got us here. To let them off now would be to forgive the unforgivable.

When I started witing about the virus, it was never meant to tie that crisis with that of Brexit, and yet it soon became clear that the sheer ignorance of the science and facts that took us down the hard/hardest Brexit road would lead to tens of thousands of extra COVID deaths. That must be answered for.

And when answered, maybe people will think that if Johnson and co got it so wrong on the pandemic, then maybe they were wrong about other shit too.

120,000 died as a result of austerity, and other 65,000 in the name of COVID don't matter, Think of that when you bury your Nan.

We all knew

After writing about the same spivs and chancers, that now make up the cabinet, for the last four years, I am in no way surprised after being rewarded year on year for bigger and grander lies, that they reached the end of the road when the lies, literally, became unbelievable.

Yesterday, in all seriousness, in order to keep up the lie, Michael Gove said he too had sometimes checked his eyesight by going on a long drive. I mean who hasn't? Just everybody.

When a Labour spokesman was asked who was doing their press round on Tuesday, the replied: Michael Gove.

Why put yourself out when Ministers are digger even deeper?

Indeed.

Pressure on Johnson to sack Cummings grows, a junior Scottish Minister resigned, and 38 other Tory MPs called for Cummings to resign of be sacked.

Nothing happened.

But a Government has linked its very credibility and trashed its own public health message on saving Cummings: what could he have on Johnson, Gove etc for them to risk so much?

Cummings would know "where the bodies are buried", and if he wanted could make life very difficult. But more difficult that annoying the nation? People have lost so much, sacrificed so much, only for the Government to effectively say, you did but only because you didn't love your family enough, that is a very bad message to send out.

But 60,000 dead and the risk of a second and deadlier wave? Best offer unconditional support to an unelected advisor who ignored the advice he helped formulate and write. Something very fishy about this, and seeing the pictures on beaches at places like Bournemouth over the weekend shows that most people think the threat is over and we go back to normal.

All to protect Cummings.

And people who have had fixed penalty notices (FPN) issued by police will not have them reviewed in light of Cummings' excuse and the following Ministerial support. But what is good for him should be the same for all families. Unless we're not all the same, some are more equal than others. I feel a legal challenge coming very, very soon.

Monday 25th May 2020

Bank Holiday Monday.

The 2nd Mrs Jelltex's birthday.

Estelle Hadingham (nee Braunsberg) died in about 1998, some two years after I divorced her, killing herself with diabetes, as her diabetic nurse has predicted, and the reason I left her.

Before she died, she had a stroke, lost one leg, then the other, then went blind. And died.

All avoidable if she has looked after her condition. She didn't.

Her Father also died of diabetes, maybe she wanted to join him? I have no idea. But when someone has a death wish, you can only do so much, which is why when it became clear nothing was going to make mum change course, I made clear that was her choice, and away you go.

Estelle died. Mum died. Gives me no pleasure in being proved right. But there you go, its a curse.

Last time I saw my stepson, Matthew told me Mam said I could not call you Dad any more. And, Man said I could not tell you I love you.

I would never use a child against my former partner, no matter what. I hope Estelle found peace in the end, and Matthew found happiness. He is 32 now, I have no seen hm in 20 years.

So it goes, so it goes.

There comes a point that when they want to do what they want to do, you let them.

But Bank Holiday Monday.

I sleep well until past half six, a veritable slugabed, but then it is up, drink coffee and out to visit the only acid bog in Kent. Or just about.

Hothfield is home to a fine church, a nice village and an acid bog. Something for everyone.

Thing is, I know where to park how to get to the orchids, and back in double quick time. Only regret was that the greasy spoon just outside the reserve didn't open on public holidays. So we had to stick with the bag of apricots I brought.

Sot it goes, so it goes.

Its a short walk from the car park, across the main road, through the wood and into the reserve, through the stile and near to the pond. I look for what I was expecting to be numerous spikes, but find just three or four, only one worth snapping, but that was in shade, but in sun when I left, so I snapped it then. These are all Heath Spotted,, and rare in Kent, so if you want to see 'em, you have to come here.

Also on the Heath are Cotton Grass, Lousewort and sundew. I snap them all.

And that is that.

Back to the car and drive to the second location, Stalisfield where in other years we would have a pub lunch. But not this year, as all pubs are still closed. We park on the green and walk down the lane to the field, which this year is sowed with broad beans.

Over that and into the woods, down into the shady valley and out the other side to the meadow, which I was expecting to be full of hundreds of flowering spikes of Greater Butterflies. And there are none.

Closer inspection show there to be about a dozen rosettes, but wind burnt and looking very sad, victims of a late frost and cold east wind.

Nothing to see here. Except a few Roman Snails, left over from the invasion 1400 years ago. Seriously.

And that was that. Nothing left but a hot and sweaty climb back to the field, then over to the pub and the car.

Back home via the A2, meaning we were back by half ten, time for a brew and a sit down.

And the rest of the day to fritter away.

We have caprese for lunch, washed down with red wine. You'd expect nothing less.

And then struggle to stay awake in the afternoon. The final two slices of cheesecake helped, along with a strong coffee.

And somehow the day, as warm and fine as it was, slip away.

We end with pate on toast, and the last of the digestive biscuits, and an hour of #wildflowerhour for me.

Perfect, really.

We're off to see the wizard

In the film, Dorothy travels along the yellow brick road to see the fabled wizard, to see if he would help her get home, and along the way collects a lion, scarecrow and tin man, who all feel they need something that is missing from their lives.

When they get to the Emerald City, they see the wizard as they great and angry figure who shouts at them. But then the curtain passes and it turns out the wonderful wizard was a small man with a mic and a good light rig.

Yesterday, in the rose garden of 10 Downing Street, the wizard allowed the UK press an audience, and in doing so allowed us to look behind the curtain at the self-proclaimed genius.

I won't go over details of what he said and how crazy ate shit bonkers it all was. Because it was.

An exercise in no excuses.

His initial statement was a witness statement with each short paragraph beginning either with a person (i, we, she, an elderly gentleman) or a time (on). Each line matching up with a confirmed sighting by a member of the public. No other petrol or bathroom stops, no further trips from one end of the country. Just confirming the Mirror and Guardian's stories in glorious bonkers detail.

His account even contradicted the PM's statements the previous day that the Cummingses trip to Castle Barnard was inaccurate. It was worse.

In traveling 30 miles to a tourist attraction, to "test his sight" with a short trip to see if he was safe to drive home to London, this is an admission of guilt under the s96 RTA 1988. In addition he also admitted three, at least, material breaches of the COVID-19 lockdown restrictions that he helped write and probably wrote the publicity for.

After the statement he allowed journalists to ask questions. The one question they didn't ask, but should have was, why didn't your wife drive?

If, as he claims, to be the brains of the organisation, and that the Johnson Government cannot function without him, them we are truly screwed. There are those who think his smirk at the end of the conference showed him to be some kind of psycho. Maybe he thinks he got away with lying again?

He really might be no cleverer than you or I?

He knows how to run a campaign; the referendum, Johnson elected as Tory leader and an election. But the actual business of Government, coping with two of the biggest emergencies in post-war UK history? Totally beyond him.

Johnson is all three other main characters from the Wizard of Oz; needing bravery, intelligence and humanity. The UK is Dorothy, just wanting normality.

Just click your heels together three times and things will be normal.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Oh bugger, he's still here.

It could all be smoke and mirrors and he played the whole press pack and country, and he is still laughing even now 14 hours later.

Sunday 24th March 2020

Day 4 of the 5 day weekend.

Less windy.

More orchids.

We have decided how much nicer life is without the drag of having to work. The previous three days have, if not rushed by, been filled with stuff and/or nothing that makes it feel like time has flown.

And although I have lots of orchiding, I have spaced out the trips, so its not felt like an orchid-obsessed time was enjoyed by a few. But time has slipped by, and already work feels closer than Thursday was.

But it was Sunday, we were up at twenty past five, there were orchids to get out ans snap, so may as well get up and me, for a change, make the first brews of the day.

The early morning cloud cleared, so at seven we were on the road, drving out along the A2 to Braham, then across the downs and through beech woodland to Park Gate.

Park gate is an unimproved meadow, and due to some great work in the 1950s when orchid seeds were scattered, home to the UK's largest (out of three) of Monkey Orchids. And it being peak Monkey season, best get down there before the crowds.

Almost nothing out on the roads, so we made good time the ten or so miles to Barham, turning off and then down onto Gravel Castle Road (I kid ye not), and down into the top end of the Elham Valley, where the Nailbourne is now just a few scattered stagnant pools, rather than the torrent it was four months ago.

We turn off and go up the valley sides, through a wood which the floor of is covered in wild garlic, drifts of white flowers swaying in the breeze.

We stop in the lay by, and I put the ring flash on the camera, and after getting into the site, I climb up the down to check the area for Monkey spikes. I find a few, but they get more frequent nearer to the fence. A volunteer tells me there were 27 spikes in that paddock. I have no reason to doubt her.

I walk onto the second paddock, and there are many more spikes, and no matter how rare they are, pretty much once you have seen one you've seen them all. There was pictures of a spike in France earlier in the season, just green, but no here, not this year

Into the final paddock to look for signs of Musk Orchids, Greater Butterfly and maybe a last Fly. I see no Musk, only one spike of the GBO seems to be viable this year, and that wasn't open, and all Fly bar one were dried as they had come to the end of the season. But one worth snapping, and I get a shot of the double interflorance.

And that was that.

Back to the car, and a short drive to Wye to check on the other colony of Late Spiders. The site nestles in a fold of Wye Down, out of site of the road, you have to know where to stop and climb over the fence.

But I do.

Jools goes looking around while i check on the LSO spikes. A good half dozen now out, though most small. There was one fine double spike, which I have to wait to snap for 20 minutes until the sun came out from behind a cloud.

And it seemed the sunny day we were told to expect had other plans, and I looked north and saw nothing but clouds.

Maybe we should go home?

We shall.

We drive down Stone Street, back to the motorway, then along back through Folkestone, along over Shakespeare and into Dover. And home.

All this spare time we seem to have, the garden is looking fabulous too.

I make brews.

Outside the winds blows hard again and the cloud grows thicker. In a sign I don't want to go out again and happy with that choice, I take my socks off.

We fritter away the afternoon, including start the second half of the cheesecake. I say start the second half, we have a quarter between us each day of the holiday, tomorrow it will be all gone.

The afternoon ploughs on.

I cook dinner early; salmon, creamed spinach, curried rice and sweet chili stir fried vegetables. A good and fairly healthy meal, but a lot of flavours going on.

It is another triumph, but won't win any beauty contests. And there is wine.

Always wine.

And that is it.

More Twittering in the evening, posting pictures of plants and orchids I have snapped. Simple stuff.

And that is it.

We end the day on the patio looking at bats hunting for insects. Day done.