Monday 29th June 2020

We have discussed this, and both Jools and I agree, routine is key.

As much as having Jools around at home for the last two and a half weeks, it has meant I have not done exercise so much, and her walking and other phys has suffered. We both have put on weight.

And when you're carrying an injury, it is oh so easy to make an excuse not to do a session. And an excuse for a day stretches to several days and then a week.

So, with the start of a new week, the start of the long slope towards mid-winter, I had to man up and start phys.

The alarm goes off.

I lay in bed and might have drifted off back to the land of nod. I wake up with a start and am convinced it is half six and I won't have enough time for phys. In truth it was twenty past five.

I am first up, so I go down and feed the cats, make coffee and open the blinds. Being semi-darkness has not meant we have slept any better.

And at ten past six: up to the spare room and on with the phys.

Oh, that was hard. But I do 20 minutes. And am lifted in spirits.

I sit on the patio, cooling down, and count 20 burrowing bees fly into the hive hidden in the hedge, all laden with sadly bags full of pollen.

I have my own saddle bags to fill, so go inside, make breakfast, coffees for Jools and myself and set up the work computer.

We are all well, and being nearly July, holiday season has begin in Denmark, with people taking two to three weeks off to go to their holiday homes in the dines of the Jutland east coast, or their garden houses on the outskirts of the city. No wonder they're so bloody happy.

I have meetings, documents to review. Same stuff every day, really.

Jools looks at me from time to time as I work, or stare into space. This is when some of my finest thinking is done. I have a brainwave and type something, then lapse into silence. Like the teleprinter on a snow-affected Saturday in the 70s. I'd better call the pools panel.

The day drags. I listen to the radio, Jools and I have lunch.

The afternoon begins.

It is a bright but windy day, so I venture out to snap something, and in the wind, I snap the cultivated yarrow in the top bed, and that's it.

Come four, it is phys time again. So, I go up and do another 20 minutes. No easier, but I do get it done.

Dinner is breaded chicken, curried rice and sweet chilli stir fry. It works, and there's enough uncooked chicken left over for lunch on Tuesday.

I have wine.

Then another.

And another.

All is good here.

I have a shower, Jools clears up and makes coffee.

I would watch football, indeed I do, the League 2 play off, as my old German teacher from high schools is an Exeter fan.

They lose 4-0. And were lucky to get nil to be honest.

I don't make fun of him. I just go to bed, finish the 400th edition of WSC.

And to bed. To sleep.

Election campaign starting?

This morning, the part time Prime Minister conducted a TV broadcast that was an election broadcast in everything but name, with the bluffer coming out with scheme after scheme how he is planning the country's recovery post COVID. Unfortunately for him, nearby in Leicester a re-imposition of lockdown restrictions had to be announced on a spike in new cases had been detected.

This is probably the first of many such local spikes we shall see in the coming weeks and months, and is a real test how how prepared the Government is to identify and isolate hot spots. Hmmm, this sounds a lot like track and trace. But the communication which towns, villages and homes are inside or outside of the lockdown area needs to be made crystal clear. And if someone from the inside drives to Durham to test their eyesight?

As said before, Johnson is all about big statements, grand plans, but very light on detail. He keeps pushing the idea of a bridge between Scotland and Northern Ireland, despite it being almost impossible. But grand statements don't take into account things like reality or impact assessments.

Johnson likes to compare himself to great figures in history, first Churchill and now Roosevelt and his "new deal" to that of the US President. Only Roosevelt's deal had 40% of GDP pledged, whilst Johnson pledged, checks notes, 0.5%. And a lot of that is money already pledged.

Meanwhile Michael Gove announced a billion pound schools repair plan, on the tenth anniversary of when the then Education Minister, checks notes, cancelled Labours one billion pound school repair scheme. You really could not make this up.

Nor could you make up that former PM Theresa May standing up in the Commons and pointing out to Gove that 24 hours after saying the Government should be promoting those with skills and experience Johnson appointed Sir David Frost as National Security Advisor although he has, checks notes, no experience in national security.

We are truly lead by the slugs and cockroaches who live under the bottom of the barrel after it has been scraped clean.

Red, white and blue bureaucracy

This morning, Bloomburg, announced it had been supplied with the draft presentation from HMRC on what will need to be done by exporters to the EU (an NI) from the UK.

Truck and freight vehicles without the right documentation will not be allowed onto the ferry or Tunnel shuttle.

It is the way it was always going to be, and will apply either with or without any kind of trade deal. If trucks arrive at the border, they will not be allowed to cross, so somehow the UK Government must ensure that only trucks reaching ports of the tunnel have the right documents, or chaos and queues will soon build.

The Government is proposing a new IT system, the Goods Vehicle Movement Service (GVMS), it hardly needs pointing out that Central Government record on IT system procurement is less than great.

Before a UK driver is allowed to cross to the EU, it will need to show that it has a valid reference number from the GVMS, known as a Goods Movement Reference (GMR).

You get a GMR by putting all the necessary data about what you're carrying into the GVMS.

RoRo is `roll-on, roll-off' ports like Dover. So a truck will have to show it has a valid GMR before it can get approval to proceed to the port.

Will trucks be held in lorry parks away from the border to check these? We await details.

Currently, UK trucks just drive to Dover, get on the ferry, and arrive in Calais, with minimal documentation requirements.

The English Channel is effectively a motorway. But as this powerpoint shows, Brexit turns it into a proper border crossing.

Even if Britain and the EU sign a free-trade agreement, this will be the system.

It is the consequence of leaving the EU's customs union -- all goods will require customs declarations. And the EU says it won't allow a truck in without a declaration.

In sum, deal or no-deal, trucks will have to go through the headache of a new bureaucratic process, which relies on an IT system that is yet to be built, from a govt with a poor record on IT projects.

Get it wrong, and the UK suffers economic pain.

This HMRC document begins to fill the truck-sized hole we reported last week. But still many questions remain. How will the government physically stop trucks arriving at ports without correct paperwork? What enforcement powers will they have?

When will the GVMS system be built? Will it be tested before it is used?

To conclude, some realism from HMRC about what has to be done to make Brexit work.

But also concern about new IT project, unprepared biz, extra costs of complying, and Brexit generally making life harder for key arteries of the U.K. economy.

And it has to be up and running at full capacity by the end of the year to go live on January 1st, or no freight can cross from the UK to the EU or NI. This is Project Reality, as frictionless trade and supply chains was only made possible by the SM and CU. Leave those and you put up barriers to trade, and increase costs for all who want to continue trading with the EU, and continue we will have to.

There will be some kind of trade deal sooner or later, as economics dictate, there just might be a lot of pain along with good, medicine and energy shortages until it is sorted. Pretending this isn't a problem or saying over and over again this won't happen is no longer an option.

The clock is ticking. Loudly.

Sunday 28th June 2020

"Unseasonably windy".

So said the actress to the vicar.

IIt was Sunday, and although it was indeed windy, I wanted to go out to do some snapping. I really, really wanted to go up Lydden Down to search for a hyper-rare inter-species hybrid, but already at seven in the morning, the wind was blowing. Si, alternative plans had to be made.

A couple of years ago I came across an unusual BLH spike. I posted pictures at the time, but my suggestion it was a hybrid between the Broad Leaved and Violet Helleborine was, if not rubbished, not taken that seriously. But I know what I saw. So we could go back there, and there were other orchid spikes around.

So, the plan was set; a long woodland walk, and be on the lookout for rare orchids and butterflies.

We skipped breakfast, but then had to call into the garage on the A2 before leaving Dover for a sustaining pasty and a drink to keep us going.

Off the A2, the lanes were full of Lycra-clad cyclists. Most were considerate, some were not. But we didn't get held up.

We arrived at the reserve car park at eight, cloudy and windy, but among the trees it would be quite still, and good for butterflies.

I strap my camera across my shoulder, and we set off down the long woodland drive. Eyes left and right looking for something, anything interesting. And there is much, but just of botanic interest. Foxglove, greater knapweed in huge numbers, hogweed, nipplewort and many, many others. But few insects, but it was early and cool.

Suddenly in a hedgerow caught in sunlight, a dozen or more Ringlet butterflies were all about; basking and feeding and generally looking for a good time, big boy.

I snap one which was basking in long grass, its upper wings all dark brown, looking quite dull.

We walk on.

Up the hill, and the orchids begin to appear. Mostly CSOs and the occasional Pyramidal. I see nothing particularly rare, and most were going to seed, but some were still worth snapping, so I do.

And up the track we come to a bank, and among the tall grass are a few BLH spikes, still in bud, and the suspect hybrid, looking different already. I snap it from all angles and will add to my file of evidence.

I snap more CSO before we turn off and go through the main part of the reserve, looking a rare moth, which has probably mated and died off.

As we walked back to the car, an unexpected rain cloud dumped 5 minutes of heavy rain on us, turning the fine morning into a bit of a trek, back up the slope to the car.

Sigh.

But it soon stopped, and we were back at the car. No other plans, so we drove back home for a brew and some fruit.

Being a Sunday, something special for lunch: rib eye steaks, fried sliced jacket potatoes, garlic mushrooms and sauteed asparagus. And white fizz.

And it was a triumph.

But the fine meal and wine meant the afternoon was spent trying to stay awake. Which we fail to do, we both are snoring loudly as we watch a recent Sky at Night.

The football, FA Cup 6th round, did not really interest me, and I find I had missed a whole tie, and the first half of the second.

I wasn't disappointed.

The evening was spent watching another FA Cup game, I already have forgotten who was playing or the score.

It is the modern way.

An just like that, another weekend had whizzed by.

Lead by idiots

The Chairman of the ERG, Mark Francois, wrote to Michelle Barnier regarding the forthcoming talks between the EU and UK, and in the last paragraph goes on to waffle about being a free country and other such guff.

That Francois has a position of some political power shows how low the current crop of Conservatives are.

"In summary, all my colleagues at the ERG have ever really wanted, is to live in a free country, which elects its own Government and makes its own laws under them in peace. We have come a long way in securing this objective and have no intentions of abandoning it now or in the future"

So reads the last paragraph reading like someone drunken, arguing with Alexa about which Beatles song was most popular. Barnier is a functionary, given his terms of reference by the EU Council and EU27 leaders.

The EU has long since come to terms with the UK having already left the EU, and is just waiting for the penny to drop on London. If Francois, Johnson, Raab and co want to carry on playing to their domestic audience rather than engaging now with the very serious issue, then its up to us. The EU is ready, and has other more important issues to fry.

Like with Brexit, with COVID-19, Johnson, Francois blame others for their own failings. Nothing is ever their fault. Either the destruction of the UK economy or 60,000 dead, then it is someone else at faul: The EU, The Civil Service, Bank of England, The Courts, Judges, anyone but themselves.

Meanwhile, having shown the current Government doesn't have the bandwidth to cope with either Brexit or COVID, Johnson and Cummings are now trying to re-wire the Cabinet Office and the upper levels. This will not end well. It is obtaining power with no real idea what to do with it. Be not worried about Johnson and Cummings, but who will come after, with all this unfettered power. Three of the most senior members of the Civil Service have either resigned or been sacked since Johnson and Cummings have gained power.

It would be finny of not our very livelihoods and that of our children and grandchildren were not at stake.

History will be damning. Meanwhile I am laughing like a drain.

At the madness of it.

Coup

A coup is underway in Westminster.

It has long been planned.

It is the accumulation of power for power's sake.

First it was the limiting questioning of the Executive, either by limiting FoI, reducing Legal Aid and attempting to limit Judicial Review, as obeying Laws of the land is only a technicality when applied to Ministers.

At the same time as Brexit, a global pandemic, Johnson and Cummings are now wrecking Whitehall, with the Cabinet Office to be disbanded. First stage in this was the sacking of Sir Mark Sedwill from is dual roles as Cabinet Secretary and National Security Advisor.

Johnson is now only PM on Wednesday's when he has to attend PMQs, how long before he avoids them too?

Once upon a time, the Army threatened Harold Wilson with a coup by sending troops to Heathrow to warn him. Who will threaten Johnson and Cummings? Not the complicit media, print and video. Rights will soon be swept away, and there will be no comeback, as the UK has no codified constitution.

Anyone avoiding scrutiny has something to hide, Johnson has avoided scrutiny from the public, the media, Parliament. Government by diktat soon, announcements in leaks to the Torygraph. Oh sorry, that already happens.

Saturday 27th June 2020

Something akin to normality is returning. Although there is professional football still going at the end of June, there is no cricket, no pubs, bars or restaurants are open and we still can't get a haircut. Not until next weekend.

Shops don't have shortages now, and we can get most of what we want. Heck, we can even travel and stay overnight somewhere, if you can find a hotel open.

For us, of for me, we can travel anywhere in Kent, walk and look for orchids and butterflies. Just no pub lunches or churches open.

But the bane of any macro-photographer is strong winds. And that was what Saturday was going to bring. In spades. Which is why we went to look at orchids on Friday afternoon. But it did mean that we had a whole bunch of Saturday to fill.

So, in an unexpected move, we both did a session on the cross trainer, had showers (and a shave for me), before getting dressed and having breakfast.

It was nine in the morning.

Oh boy.

There is always the radio, especially on a Saturday, so we do our hobbies, while the morning passes the the wind builds outside.

We have ham rolls for lunch, and then the afternoon starts.

It is building towards the FA 6th round game at Norwich against Man Utd. The hours and minutes pass, until it is time for the game to start.

The fixture has history, and Norwich have won more of these cup ties than Utd, but this season more than ever, its about money and the players that provides. And Norwich have been playing poorly since the restart.

And it began slow, with Utd on top, but Norwich got into it, and after that it was a pretty even game.

Jools had bought some maple syrup coated ribs, and those would taste better on a BBQ. But instead of having to get charcoal, firelighters and so on, I asked Jools to get one of those disposable ones, which she did, and it only needed 20 minutes to warm up, meaning we should be eating at half time in the game.

Didn't quite work out that way, as due to the wind, a lot of the heat was blow away from the meat, so the ribs, in two batches, took ages to cook. The second half started, Utd scored, and I was crouched over a tiny BBQ.

But the ribs were great, although the two burgers I cooked afterwoods didn't really get cooked all the way through, just defrosted. Mostly. We're still here, and alive. Apparently.

Back for the rest of the second half, and Norwich had equalised. Which came as a surprise, but I think they deserved it, playing well if not creating much, but Todd had a shot and it served in.

So to injury time, then extra time. And just when it looked as though it would go to penalties, Utd score a winner in the last minute.

Bugger.

By then it was gone eight at night, and time to clear up and then it was bed time.

Phew.

Doing nothing can take it out of you, especially when you do it all day.

The long battle ahead.

If we look at the figures of global infections as collected by John Hopkins University, despite what we see here in England or the UK or even Europe, the infection rate, globally, is accelerating. The figures and time scales are truly scary.

t took the world about 100 days to go from 0 cases to 1 million detected cases. Then:

1 to 2 mil: 12 days

2 to 3 mil: 13 days
3 to 4 mil: 12 days
4 to 5 mil: 11 days
5 to 6 mil: 10 days
6 to 7 mil: 8 days
7 to 8 mil: 8 days
8 to 9 mil: 6 days

In some US states and in South America, highest daily totals were posted on Friday. This will only get worse as more infected people pass on their "gift" to the uninfected. Meanwhile, the whole idea of protecting the population at large has become a political matter, with the American Dream and God's will now taken as meaning compulsory face masks is something communist. There is a video of a town hall meeting where a woman says I won't wear a face mask the same reason I don't wear underwear, to allow me to breathe.

With logic like this, mankind is screwed.

But it is the way COVID has been portrayed, and echoing the Spanish Flu of a century ago, cities and citizens march to demand the right to infect the weak and sick.

The American dream.

And in the White House, Trump denies reality, to allow the virus to decimate his voter base.

Here in the UK, SAGE has been replaced with a political group, we are not told who sits on it, and are given little or no evidence that restrictions should be lifted, but they are anyway. While it is fine for footballers to play professionally, cricketers cannot. While it is fine to sit side by side in an aircraft to fly off on your summer holidays, whilst wearing a mask, you cannot sit in a cinema or theatre under any circumstances.

If one is fine, so is the other.

But the Arts and less than profitable sports suffer. Its ironic, because once the lockdown hit, it was the arts that kept the nation sane; music, films, TV box sets all binge watched or listened. The hard days of March and April were only bearable thanks to the Arts and artists. But whilst business is supported, the Arts isn't. Theatres and cinemas have run out of money, and they begged the government for help, but that fell on deaf ears.

There is still little or no scrutiny of the Government. Te daily briefings have ended, the daily figures are not mentioned now, if they are, its just in passing. Anyone raises an issue with Cummings of some other scandal, that is met by the phrase: "The Prime Minister considers that closed". As if that is it.

Maybe it is it.

Nothing is a resignation offence. Certainly helping a party donor void £40 million in costs after donating just £12k to the Conservatives, and that is fine. That one of the poorest London boroughs lost that £40 million is neither here nor there.

We're all in this together. Only we're not.

Do as we tall you, not as we do.

The Spanish Flue lasted 500 days before it petered out, which means this is something we will have to deal with throughout the autumn and winter, even if a vaccine is found, it will take months to test and to be considered safe to use Even if it works.

Meanwhile, as the virus runs rampant, Cummings is planning on major reforms to how Government is run, downgrading the Civil Service, and so removing yet more scrutiny. And no one will hardly notice, until its your rights that are taken away.

And they will.

Enjoy the weekend.

Friday 26th June 2020

Friday arrives, like a long-lost brother, emerging from the steam of an ancient steam engine, as the weather changed, and instead of waking to pastel shaded skies, we had thick sea fog.

And once the fog cleared, rainclouds swept in from the east, dropping much needed rain onto the east Kent countryside.

In fact, I checked the storm radar and found an active storm cell drifting up the Channel, and through the open window we could hear the distant rumbles.

Jools was to go and do yoga on the seafront again, but as she was leaving the house, she got a call from the class leader saying that due to the approaching storm, it would now be online. So, Jools had to quickly set up her mat and stuff in the front room, log on to the site, remember her password and so on.

I had slept badly thanks to my shoulder, and I thought about going on the cross trainer, and I knew I couldn't.

So, instead, I get dressed and stand at the back door to watch the lighting and amazed at where all the water for rain so heavy came from. One minute there was no rain, next it was hammering down. Poor hoverflies and bees caught out in the downpour, tried to shelter in the plant they were feeding at.

I make breakfast as once I started work, it was three and a half hours of meetings. I cut fruit and pour on yogurt, then leave Jools to make coffee once she has finished yoga, and i was in my first meeting.

I straight into an auditor's coordination meeting, where several auditors talk about audits and their finer technical points. Auditing is never going to replace football as a national obsession and so audit punditry is not going to challenge footy phone-ins either. I have to break away after two hours as I have a meeting with my boss, and all seems to be going so well. It really is rather pleasing.

Permission to activate "smug" mode, boss?

And so at half eleven, meetings done, time for lunch, more brews and tie up some loose ends.

Outside the storms had faded, and the clouds had broken and it was to be a fine afternoon. I had plans....

At three, I finish work, pack up and we jump in the car to head up to Maidstone to check on a reserve where they have a fine collection of Broad Leaved Helleborines. Probably a bit early, but many spikes were already open elsewhere in the country. So, we might get lucky.

We go up the A20 then the M20 through Folkestone and Ashford, the sky was wonderfully blue, but with many budding storm cells forming nearby, we might get wet?

Just off the main road up Detling Hill, we turn off and into the sleepy village, park at the far end, near to the entrance to the reserve. I take my camera and ring flash, first of all looking for the rare Yellow Birdsnest which was there a couple of years back. But all along the path under the fir trees, there was no sign. It was the same story the week before at Barham. Might still be early.

Onwards to the meadow, and plenty to see on the woodland path: Stinking Iris, butterflies. I was transfixed as I saw a White Admiral gliding round a clearing, settling over and over on the same leaf, though too far to get a good shot. Doesn't stop me trying, though.

The meadow was a festival of colour; mainly Rosebay Wiloowherb and a couple of species of St John's Wort, but all full of polinators, including the first Gatekeeper I have seen this year. I snap that too.

At the far end, I struggle to find an orchid spike, but once I orient myself, I see a few spikes unfurling, some poised to flower. But not quite.

All a bit disappointing to be honest.

I make do with snapping a couple of Pyramidals next to the path on the way back.

We drive home, back along the M2 and A2, the former was very busy indeed, though most did carry on along Thanet Way towards Margate, and so the A2 towards Dover was much quieter.

It seems normality has returned, and a family trip to the seaside is very much a thing once again.

Back home we have a coffee and a Magnum, before it is time to leave the house again, for another cards night.

We pick up John on the way, arriving early so we can have a chat, then on with the serious business, and once again Jools and I clear up, winnig all the pots of cash in the two games. Though not the penny a point game of the previous week, but still, we leave for home with huge smiles.

Back home at half ten, I was full or tripel and red wine, so needed no nightcap.

Good night.

4427

I worked at a chicken factory between 1985 and 1990. I did a number of roles, but when I did leave, I had good prospects and had been offered a salaried position in junior management.

But dreamed of wider horizons.

One of my friends from the factory was James, and he had a friend, Jonathan, who had joined the RAF as a Motor Transport (MT) driver. Jon made life in the mob so attractive, James went to apply to join, and in 1989, he did so.

The weekend before he was due to join, we met at Normanston Park to run round the perimeter path to see how long it would take to run one and a half miles. The only metric you had to pass was to run said distance in under 11 minutes.

Not hard.

James and I were not the fittest. I had lost a lot of weight, so thought, how hard could running be?

Turned out it was very hard indeed. It didn't help it was a hot day, one of those late summer days with endless sunshine, no winds and roasting temperatures people in their 50s says its not like any more.

You know.

James and I realised he was going to struggle in joining to pass this mark. James did join and it took some months before he did run just under 11 minutes and was able to complete his basic training.

In the meantime, I had also applied to join. My parents were on holiday: I had already applied, so took a day off work and went up to Norwich for an interview at the Careers Information Office (CIO) and to complete an aptitude test. I did well in the test, and like James, being an MT driver was below our results. But I stuck to my guns and said I would join as a driver.

Though there was no requirements at that time. I would have to wait for the trade to open up.

James had joined as an armourer. This involved trade training after basic training; education too, theory courses and tests. Practical tests. Before being allowed into the "real Air Force" after finishing and passing the course. No one tells you that an Armourer earns more than an MT driver. Not that it matters until you join, but over a career, the difference is huge.

I did not know this.

In the meantime, I had to tell my parents I had applied to join. Mum was horrified, that her little boy was going to leave home. But it comes to us all, even only children.

I knew I had to get fit. So, I drove in my car having set the tripmeter to zero to measure out 1.5 miles. THis was to be my route for the next nine months of training.

Down Kesgrave Drive, along Hadleigh Drive, down Woods Loke West, then along Higher Drive to the end, then up past the park on Normanston Park, up Fir Lane, finally sharp left into Woods Loke East, reaching the mile and a half point where the road ended at the footpath over the new spine road.

I ran this every day, pretty much, some days doing better than before, sometimes not. It was a race of me against the watch on my wrist.

I became a regular sight for people along the route, getting quicker and quicker. Until one time, I did it, I broke the 11 minute barrier. But I pressed on, and once I had got my time down to ten minutes, I began to run longer, now going along Oulton Road and down through Pound Farm Estate to reach home.

Winter turned to spring, and I am contacted by CIO: MT driver trade would not be opening in the foreseeable future, did I want to give up or choose another trade?

I went in and we talked about things, I said my friend was an armourer, that sounds interesting? Well, my test results meant I was suitable. "I'll book you in for a formal interview and we can tell you all about the trade and you can decide. OK?"

OK.

I am sure that was the agreement. Because what happened next came as a surprise.

I cam home from work, having walked for an hour after getting off the bus in Lowestoft for some additional phys, and there was a letter from the MOD waiting.

Congratulations on your application to join the RAF as a Aircraft (Weapons) mechanic, you will join the RAF on July 4th 1990, joining instructions will be sent separately.

Or something like that.

No application, no interview. Just join the RAF.

The next morning i went to work, and was called into Nev's office for a chat. I had done well as a section controller, they wanted to promote me (including being on salary so they could get lots of unpaid overtime). It was a good thing, and Nev really wanted me to do it, he had mentored me after the issues I had had since leaving the quality department.

So, I had a choice: RAF or chickens.

I chose the Air Force, and told him on the spot I was joining the RAF so could not take the promotion. Nev did not take it well, he did not speak to me again. But then he was ex-Army, and had an impressive Army issue tashe, in the end, him not speaking to me any more would not be in issue.

On June 19th 1990, I went with a friend to see Prince in concert for the second time. He wasn't as good as on the Lovesexy tour, and so I drove back to Suffolk, disappointed.

We parked in Woodford, had caught the Tube to Wembley and back, so the drive home was just up the A12, which was being improved near Ipswich, with new junctions being put in at Capel St. Mary.

It was sometime after midnight, I was driving with my friend, Richard, asleep in the passenger seat, and either I got confused in the road works, or I fell asleep momentarily.

The road ended, and my Ford Cortina leapt into the air and crash landed into a pike of hard core. We were not going that fast, but stopping so suddenly thanks to the crash hurt. As people say, t took place in slow motion, and I can remember the back of the car lifting up, but the weigt and size of the car meant it didn't flip over.

The car banged back down on its wheels.

A woman stopped on the main carriageway and shouted: "I haven't seen an accident before!". I replied, quite lucidly: "I haven't been involved in an accident either!".

Another driver offered to take me to the nearby garage to call the AA, then take me back to the car while we waited.

The AA arrived in ten minutes, pulled the car out, gave it an inspection, and in his opinion, the car was bent, but drive-able. But take it easy.

So we set off. Hard core fell from the car as we drove along, it made quite the noise. And at the same time my thumb began to ache.

Badly.

We got home, I dropped Richard off then went home.

I went to bed at about three, but was awake shortly after seven as my hand was bloody painful. My parents had both gone to work, and couldn't drive anyway. The lady over the road took me to A&E in Gorlestone, where I got an x-ray.

"Almost certainly" not broken I was told, but they put on an arm cast just in case, and said to come back in two weeks and they would take the cast off, re-do the x-ray and see when the swelling had gone down.

As soon as the cast was on, no pain. So, why bother the CIO with this, I would have the cast off a week before joining, and all would be fine.

I even carried on running, getting my time lower and lower.

Then on 27th June I went to have the cast off and the x-ray.

I was in good spirits, all was set for me to join up the next week. I was walking on air.

My cast was cut off, and my hand hurt. I mean really hurt. I had the x-ray, and the not unsurprising news was that I had a broken bone. A tiny bone. But broken.

It would take 6 weeks at least to heal, they put on a new cast, and once home I had to all the CIO and explain.

I was beyond distressed, all that I had worked so hard for, pushed myself for, and I saw my bright future being replaced with nothing but racks and racks of chckens back at the factory.

The sergeant could tell I was upset: leave it with him he said. Don't worry he said. A couple of hours he called back, he had swapped my entrance date with a guy from Norwich; he would take my place next week, and I would take his in September, more than enough time for the arm to heal.

Panic over.

All through the summer, the World Cup was on, Italia 90. Not only was I still joining the RAF but I would not go back to the factory until the doctor said it was OK to. So I was on sick all through the World Cup, so I would spend afternoons in pubs around the town, watching games whilst drinking pints of fizzy lager.

It was a wonderful summer. Even better, England actually got quite good and made it to the semi-finals. I would train in the mornings, spend the afternoons in pubs or on the sofa, then the evenings in more pubs or round friends, watching the games. One drunken night, watching England beat Belgium in the final minute of extra time. We rushed into town to spend the night dancing to house music and rare groove tunes.

Fast forward to late summer, and the cast was removed. My writ ached. All the time.

I had to have a medical with an Army doctor to prove i was fit enough to join still.

My wrist continued to ache, badly at times, until the day of the medical exam, where it was fine. I had to travel to Norwich, then to the Army Careers office where I waited with all the potential Pongos to see the quack. He read my notes, asked how I felt. I lied and said there had been no pain.

He did not believe me.

Grip his hand, he said, and squeeze as hard as you can. I looked into my eyes all the time. I squeezed and stared at him back. I did not flinch.

He passed me.

So I was free to join.

Phew.

Into September and my GP was happy to sign me up on sick right up to when I was due to join, so I called in the factory to hand my sick note in, hand my notice in too, so clear out my locker.

I did not look back.

However, at any point that year, things could have gone so differently, and had they not done so, I would not be here, sitting on this horse talking to you.

So it goes, so it goes.

I joined up one early autumn morning, went to the CIO with my Granddad to swear my oath of allegiance, get my rail warrant to take me to Newark the next morning. I was stood down for the rest of the day, but get packed and ready for your new life.

We went back to Oulton Broad. I packed my bags, checked I had everything, then met Richard at the Fighting Cocks pub once he had finished for the day at the factory, and we got very, very drunk. I was never that person, that civilian again.

Time is tight

Brexit hasn't gone away.

Although, we cannot vote to remain any more.

We have left.

We left the EU on 31st January this year, and the only way to rejoin is via Article 49. If the EU would have us back. And there is little passion in the political bubble or in the print media to do that or support it.

But, Brexit has happened, that part of the process, the executing of any "mandate" that the 2016 referendum result may have granted. Anything beyond leaving the EU is not the "people's will", if there is a hard or no deal Brexit now, then that is a political decision by Johnson.

Johnson was elected to conclude the WA and PD he had negotiated. He had no electoral mandate to force the UK into a no deal, with the associated cots to businesses and the economy that would cause.

Opposition parties should be hammering the Government on the current "final" negotiations sent this week, to conclude a trade agreement that is in the UK's best interest. This is really the last chance to fight. Fight for our human rights. Our worker's rights. Our environmental standards. Food standards.

Everything.

And there is silence, no scrutiny.

Brexit is done, but the worse of the damage can still be prevented.

Remember, you can have lots of trade and not much control, or lots of trade and not much control. The Government is ignoring this basic fact, and pushing to have lots of control with lots of trade. Reality doesn't work like that. Trade and travel is heaviest and cheapest between neighbouring countries. This will not change. The UK will have to trade with the EU because of reality and the laws of economics. Brexit only works if the intention is not to trade.

But then we'd all suffer.

Thursday 25th June 2020

FIxmas.

Another week is drawing to an end, and there is little to report. Other than the usual passing of the seconds, minutes and hours which mark the passing of time.

It was to be another red hot day, prior to the day of storms we were to have on Friday. I'll be honest with you, it was already hot when we got up, any the delayed effect of the physio on my arm meant that there was no way I could do a session on the trainer.

It has been slipping, I know. My feet are swelling in the hot weather, but I also need to rest my arm.

Oh dear.

In fact, we manage to sleep through the arm, go back to sleep, and I awoke at ten to seven, the dirty slugabed that I am. I barely have time to get up, get dressed and down the first coffee before work comes calling.

As I dial in for the meeting, Jools make breakfast and second coffee and I feel half human. Not sure whether its the top or bottom half.

And as everyday, work fills the time, but there is music and social media to distract us.

We have rolls for lunch, which again my glamourous wife makes so I don't have to break away from my burning keyboard.

Jools is finding it tough to fill her days, but manages; gardening, tidying up, beading, reading and making me brews and the hours just whizz by.

I do go outside to take some snaps, but it is too hot to stay out too much. I take shots of the hydrangea we bought a couple of years ago. It failed to flower last year, but with regular soakings, it is magnificent this year. Details in the flowers are stunning.

I take shots.

And dash back inside to stay cool.

Dinner is courgette fritters, which as always, taste different as I never measure the ingredients and add different spices each time. I drink half a large bottle of tripel as I cook, and the rest as we eat. Lovely.

There is no football on TV, or at least the package I have, but Citeh are playing Chelski, and if Citeh fail to win, Liverpool would be champions. I hope you can follow this. Well, Citeh lost 2-1, and so Liverpool were crowned champions, and their fans celebrated long into the night, quite probably not adhering to social distancing, but they could always say they were out testing their eyesight.

Uncommon sense

In absence of actual guidance, the Prime Minister stated he was going to reply on "Great British common sense" so the public would know what to do and what not to do and all the signals from Downing Street is that the emergency is over, with loosening announcements coming on a weekly basis, and pubs reopening next weekend.

With the hottest spell of weather this week, the public took a look at the forecasts, took out their towels and bbqs and headed to the coast, just like Johnson recommended a few weeks back.

They went in their tens of thousands. Bournemouth was full, so many people wanted to get a train from central London to the coast, queuing system at Victoria Station had to be introduced.

On Wednesday, some 23 tons of litter had to be collected from Bournemouth beach, and pictures yesterday showed the same beach so packed with people you could not see the sand.

Meanwhile, Liverpool won the Premier League, and 2,000 people gathered outside their Anfield ground to celebrate. Did the Premier League, FA and Government not think this would happen when football was introduced? People jumped, hugged, let off fireworks, any social distancing forgotten in their moment of celebration.

Johnson will try not to take the blame for the inevitable spike in cases and deaths. Clear guidance and message that the worse is not yet over and there is great danger just has not come from Government, Chris Whitty tried his best, but it was way too late. If you dance with the devil, Chris.

In short, this has been the Government advice since lockdown was eased:

'Let us be absolutely clear. We are still in danger. On the other hand ... the threat level is low and so no need to shield, go and shop, go to the pub and enjoy the sunshine. By the way it's not safe to open schools. Glad to have cleared that up.'

Wednesday 24th June 2020

Six months to Christmas Eve.

Seriously.

Just sayin'.

And so begins the hottest period of weather this year. Thirty degrees expected on Wednesday, and maybe a couple higher on Thursday before it breaks in storms on Friday. So, for the time being we must sweat.

And although I did not feel like it, I did do a session on the cross trainer, and felt better for it. The experience is usually better than the dread of the thought of it.

So it goes.

I have a shower and am dressed and ready for the early meeting, which I attend whilst my glamourous assistant, Jools, makes breakfast and second coffee.

It was a usual working day with meetings, calls and the usual. Nothing much happened, only it got ever hotter in the house. One thing for sure, it would be even hotter in the garden, or walking the fields. Best stay inside.

The day passed uneventfully until half two when I had to go out for an appointment at the physio. My arm is still not right, so why not pay fifty quit for a Belgian lady to wrench it about to "balance" things?

Heck, it might even work. I hope.

Afterwards, we were going to go to Sandwich Bay to check on the Marsh Helleborines. But first:

We park in the car park, and I wait. I was called in, had to wear my mask, wash my hands when I got inside, then a quick review and then the pummeling.

Half an hour later, it was done, and at first, it felt great, as the knots and stress had been knocked out. But, soon stiffness returned, and I would have to try to use my left hand instead. I felt well enough to drive. I mean, being a man, it would be a pretty serious injury to stop me from driving! I digress.

We go along the Sandwich road, into Sandwich, then through the housing estate and random parking, to the road leading to the Bay estate. It was a glorious afternoon, hot, sunny and light winds. Perfect for orchiding, and maybe butterflying.

We walk back up the track, through the wildflower meadow, and once on the track to the orchids, there were butterflies everywhere. Most too flighty to be snapped, Marbled Whites were, but I snap a couple of Small Coppers, and chase Meadow Browns without getting a shot.

Into the paddock, and I could see the nodding white flowers of the marsh Helleborines. I could have waded into the middle of them, but there were a couple of spikes next to the path; they'd do. So I snap those instead, as most MH are pretty much the same.

But really, like at Marden with the Green Winged and the Lady at Bonsai, it is the spectacle of so many wonderful orchids, all waving in the wind looking stunning.

We walk back out, stopping to snap a few Southern Marsh, including a couple of pure white spikes near to the gate.

On the way back there were butterflies, Scarce Chasers, all to distract me from the fact we were hungry.

So, back home.

Traffic heavier than it has been for some months, and it not quite being the start of "rush hour", but we were home by five, time to cook dinner ready for the football at six, as Norwich were playing.

"Always a disappointing football match".

And this did not disappoint.

See what I did there?

Norwich were playing Everton, who we beat in the winter at their place, we had hopes of doing the double over them. But, it wasn't to be.

Norwich really never got going, but we level at half time, but nothing was coming off for us. Second half, Everton score from a corner, a mess of a goal, typical of our season, and as in the first 31 games we had not come back after going a goal down, why ruin a perfect record? We lose 1-0, and have scored the one goal in the last seven games, spread over five months.

I was watching in the i player, as it was being screened on the BBC. I watched maybe 40% of the second half, all too predicable. We are going down and there's no avoiding it now.

Oh well.

All that was left was to watch the Liverpool v Palace game, a fixture that derailed Liverpool 6 years back, not this year as they cruise to a 4-0 win.

Edging closer

As you know, Brexit and reality don't mix well. But there is the reality that the EU is on our doorstep and UK businesses would like to continue trading with it.

This will not change, though there might be bumps in the road.

So, news came today that there might be agreements in some kind of LPF structure. This, like all movements would only happen if it was in the EU's interest for it to happen. The UK is not and will not force the EU to do something that is against its interests or outside the rules of the SM, and to a lesser extent WTO rules

If the EU moves on something, its because the UK was stronger, so Brexit was right.

If the EU refuses to move, it is punishing the UK, so Brexit was right.

So goes the Brexiteer thinking.

But as I said, a quick deal is barely better than no deal, and many policy areas outside trade are not covered at all. Like chemicals, which all of Europe follows common standards, which the UK helped create, but the UK will leave, not because it saves money or anything, but because its an EU function. A UK equivalent will do the same, but for suppliers they would have to be certified against both standards, even if they were the same, twice the cost. Twice the red tape, which I seem to recall Brexit was supposed to reduce, but of course will only multiply many times over.

This deal was expected to be done by "October", remember it needs to be ratified, because it's a mixed deal, not only National Parliaments, but some regional ones too. All takes time, two months would not be enough. But, the EU always does deals at the last minute the Brexiteers say. On internal treaties, yes, but not with time pressured international ones.

Tuesday 23rd June 2020

I was woken up sometime after midnight with Scully using her "I have caught something" meows.

I let her have whatever she had caught. She then ate the poor creature, its poor bones snapping in the darkness.

Scully then jumped on my legs, walked up my back and meowed.

No food, Scully.

Scully goes back out, and two minutes later is back.

Meow.

She had another small meal for me.

I ignore her. I go to sleep hearing her chase the creature down the hall.

At least she's happy....

Ten minutes later, there's another meow.

I ignore her some more, and again I hear the mouse give its last squeak and then the crunching of it's bones.

I heard nothing until the morning. So after first coffee, I go to check on the carnage, and indeed there are the bones and remains of two mice, and in the middle a whole mouse. I assume it to be dead.

I go to scoop it up, and it moves. I hold it by the tail and begin to carry it downstairs. The formally stunned mouse, was now wide awake. And pissed off.

It managed to lift its body and looking at my finger, bit me hard!

FUCK!

And again.

I drop the mouse on the stairs, it is stunned again, and quite lucky to be alive. Jools scoops it up in a towel, while my finger pumps out the red stuff.

What a start to the day.

I had slept poorly, my shoulder ached more than ever and I could not face the cross trainer. I'll do a session in the evening I lied to myself.

That called for more coffee. Breakfast.

And soon enough it was time for work, where I can show my finger with the sticking plaster to my cat owning colleagues who have all had the same shit. Though the non-catty people are shocked.

And so to work, where I have another document to review, while Jools does stuff. She goes shopping, does gardening. I stare at my computer screen. As usual.

We have lunch, which was breaded chicken, creamed spinach and couscous, as Jools had a yoga class in the evening.

There was no wine or beer to go with it, just as well as I would have slept the whole afternoon through.

I did feel crappy enough not to do any phys in the afternoon either.

But once Jools starts her class, I do some gardening. Pull some more wild carrot out of the lawnmeadow, then water the pot plants and containers round the garden.

I st in the garden, finish reading "Rail" magazine, as the shadows lengthen and the birds begin to sing for their supper.

Outs is rolls. Pate rolls and a huge brew. We know how to live.

We are done by eight, and another day gone, with football to watch on the tellybox until bedtime.

Yet more lies

Yesterday, the Prime Minister said:

"No country currently has a functioning track and trace app"

Apart from : Australia, Azerbaijan, Bahrain, Bangladesh, China, Colombia, Czech Republic, France, Germany, Ghana, Hungary, Iceland, India, Israel, Italy, Japan, Jordan, Latvia, etc. And so on and on.

Such an easy provable lie, and yet Robert Peston questioned it but without using the Liar word.

Listening to the Health Secretary try to explain why it is no long making the public the total of those people actually tested. Because of "doubly counting" he said. The fact is he prefers the total tests done as its a bigger number, and is subject to even more double counting, and over half of the home test kits posted out and counted, were never returned.

I could go on. But unless these, and I don't use this term lightly, mass murderers, are held to account they will get away with it, form the narrative and that's what people will believe. 66,000 dead and Hancock boasts of the Government's success.

But let's go to the pub and get pissed, pass round some more virus, because: economy.

To the pub

Without providing any data to back the decision up, yesterday Johnson announced that pubs, bars and restaurants would open on July 4th.

Which is a Saturday.

Imagine the carnage?

Social distancing can be reduced to a metre, because anyone who has been a pub at a busy time will tell you keeping a 1m distance from other drinkers is easiest thing in the world.

Hairdressers can open. Nail bars can't.

Professional football is already underway. Cricket is too dangerous.

Opening the pubs. Or announcing that pubs are opening is a huge distraction, and as I said yesterday, this Government only does announcements. It distracts from Cummings, repeated failure of the track and trace app, highest death rate in Europe, failures on testing, PPE, ventilators, care homes, schools and changing the rules that the Government set in April.

And follows no science.

The CMO tried to sound a note of caution, but the nation was already planning their first order at the bar on Saturday week.

Also announced was the fact the daily briefings which stopped being that weeks ago once the lockdown was going to be eased, are also now scrapped, and only to be brought back for big announcements. Which might mean they take place daily, as Johnson likes a good announcement.

Meanwhile there have been severe outbreaks at meat processing plants around the world; the US, Germany and now the UK, where factories have had to be closed as the virus sweep round in the chilled conditions. Chilled conditions that mimic a winter's day. With the virus rampaging across South America, in their winter, it seems a second wave here in the autumn is inevitable.

But open the pubs, bring back the football, KFC drive-throughs all round.

The economy has to be saved, no matter the human cost. So a no deal Brexit can wreck what's left.

Brilliant.

Is that everything?

Oh yeah, if you're shielding, I'd carry on if I were you.

Brexit: where now

So, as it has been four, long, long years, a recap and some clarifications.

1. Brexit has happened. The UK has left the EU and no one, not the keenest remoaner can frustrate that. At 23:00 on 31st January, the Articles of the European Union no longer applied to the UK, under international law.

2. The UK, or on or more of its constituent countries can rejoin unless they follow Article 49. This will take time, even if an overwhelming majority in the UK wanted it, and then the EU would have to want us back.

3. Europe is going nowhere. Neither is the EU. Geography doesn't change, and trade is most efficient and profitable when done with your closest neighbours. The UK will have to trade with the EU and the EU will have to trade with the UK. It just will get bumpy for a while, and cost UK businesses and industry even more money than preparing for two no deal Brexit has already.

4. There is no deal better than actual membership of the EU. Never was.

5. The UK Governments have failed to negotiate a trade deal with our closest neighbours, even though in doing so would have been in the national interest.

6. Negotiations with the EU will be the easiest, talks with the US, India, Japan and so on will be harder, and they will be unforgiving.

7. In almost all talks, the UK will be the junior side, and in need of conducting a deal, any deal, at speed. It will not end well.

8. Such deals will have to be in compliance with WTO rules, and with deals that those countries have made with the EU and each other.

9. Once the UK left the EU it became a third country to the EU. Under WTO rules, there can be no favouritism unless there is a trade deal.

10. The WA is an international treaty, breaking it would have longterm dire consequences in negotiations with all other countries as the UK could not be trusted.

11. Congress will not ratify a trade deal with the UK if the WA is broken in terms of the NI protocol.

12. In short, we are where we are. We cannot turn back time, we cannot rustle up more time. The way forward is for the grownups in Parliament to take charge and make the best out of what we have. Explain to the nation the lies and say in the national interest we must have a trade deal with the EU, and become a rule taker not a rule maker. Number (3) above cannot change. What can be negotiated in the next 6 weeks, even if there was will on the UK side would barely be better than a no deal. It will be full of holes and in many policy areas the UK will be at a massive disadvantage. The alternative is for no deal to happen, and deal with the fall out.

As a country, we are no further with Brexit than we were four years ago, other than we have painted ourselves into a corner, and the house is burning down. We have left the EU and there is no going back.

Monday 22nd June 2020

Back to work.

Back to reality.

But these are not like the dark days of operations, when I once returned from holiday and never did get through the backlog of mails. There would be time to sort things out, and be without stress.

My arm felt better, so I decided to get back into the swing of phys, and when Jools went for her walk/jog in the morning, I went and did my session. It was already hot, but with my mind going over what the day would bring, time slipped by quickly.

And then it was a rush to get ready for work, only Jools is still on furlough, so made breakfast, and a coffee, so I was well fed and relaxed by the time I logged onto work and attend the early morning meeting.

By nine was all caught up and my inbox empty.

Yay.

Through the day I had calls and meetings, all pretty routine stuff to be honest. Jools made lunch, and kept me hydrated with a constant supply of tea and coffee.

At four, Jools' brother calls to say he is on his way round. The curtains we have are not that dark, so at this time of the year it seems very light in the house. So, Jools bought some heavy material, stuff for backing, and in the end a sewing machine to make blinds for most of the windows. She did well with the first one, but the weight of the material and underpowered domestic sewing machine meant that the second did not come out well, and so we had to find someone to make them up.

They were done at the weekend, and Mike had drill s and experience tin doing such things as hanging blinds.

So, for a couple of hours he worked, we drank tea and chatted. But by half six the blinds were up and were pretty much all the right sizes. And look good. We just need to decorate at some point, but we have been saying that for a decade.

On with dinner, fishcakes, boiled Jersey Royals and creamed spinach. Which made a fabulous meal, and we ate and drank well.

It had been a fine day, but I had spent too little time outside, and now was too late, but I did pull up more wild carrot, and the lawnmeadow looks a little less wild, but in time would give space for other wild flowers.

I hoped.

Listening to the radio, doing computer stuff and generally not watching Citeh play at Burnley. Because, in the end, its not football. Not without the fans. Without the passion.

Four years on

Four years ago today was the referendum.

At the time there was no plan beyond the vote, there is strong evidence that winning was never part of the plan. But win they did, which is why pictures of Johnson and Gove looking so glum sitting on the infamous red battle bus is so telling.

No one has really ever defined what Brexit was to be. At various times it was said to be better than being a member of the EU, to have no downsides, just considerable upsides, and sunlit uplands.

What the referendum was won on, was securing a deal with the EU, the details were always sketchy, but there was to be a deal, and triggering A50 was only to be done when all the discussions and agreements were done.

This did not happen.

Johnson was re-elected in December on a ticket to implementing the WA he negotiated.

He and his Government have spent the last six months trying to roll back from that, but that WA and the associated PD was what was supposed to be the basis of a trade deal with the EU.

Brexit is a tale of broken promises, by Brexiteers and Government politicians.

Brexit has already cost the UK in lost GDP more than 43 years membership of the EU, and that will only accelerate.

Businesses have had to prepare, at great cost, for two no deal Brexit dates, and as they struggle with COVID-19 are being told to prepare for the end of the transistion period, but not what they should prepare for.

Johnson and his Cabinet of incompetents have no idea what they're doing. They have little idea of what is needed to be done to prepare the country for 1st January 2021, but if what hasn't been done at Dover is anything to go by, then we are screwed.

But there is no turning back; the UK HAS left the EU, and can only rejoin in accordance with Article 49, if they would have us back, which under currernt crcumstances is very unlikely. As a country, we have to get to grips with the reality, that trade with any other country or combination of countries will not replace trade with our nearest and most affluent neighbours.

Trade with the EU will have to happen, even after January 1st next year, and it is vital that that is a frictionless (remember that term?) as possible.

Reality will not change.

We have a Government that likes announcements. Always with the announcements, but there is never any follow up, or if there is, it fails and is brushed under the carpet.

A Government of journalists who like headlines and making headlines, make statements, but with no plan or project management skills. And a bus-full of broken promises. This was not the easiest deal in human history, the German car industry did not come running to our aid to save themselves, we did not hapld all the cards, unless they were all deuces and jokers. There has not been a Brexit dividend. And now the same people who failed to negotiate a deal with the EU will try with the US, India, Japan, Australia and so on, and will be shocked that the other side has objectives and red lines too.

Sunday 21st June 2020

So, from now on the days get shorter, a little bit a day at first.

But this 21st June dawned dull and grey, and soon the forecasted rain swept in, sending sheets of heavy drizzle falling like lace curtains across the Dip.

We would be doing no photography this day. And I really couldn't be bothered to either watch the repeat of MOTD or have taped it the night before. Seeing game splayed at a walking place was bad enough, but knowing the score would make the minutes last hours.

Or so I told myself.

My arm was still aching. I should have gone on the cross-trainer, but that hurt too. So, one more day off.

Instead, I make bacon butties, because it was a cold morning, and bacon!

We have the radio on, do our hobbies, and count the minutes until it was time to have lunch. Outside, the rain continued to fall, and the garden would look better for it having rained.

Dinner was stir fry chilli prawns, sweet chilli stir fry, and a rice dish of my own design, with turmeric, cardamon seeds, and instead of lemon, I use orange zest and freshly squeezed juice, and the result was so sweet and delicious!

Yummy.

I try to watch football in the afternoon, but it is painfully slow and dull. So I switch it off and have 40 winks instead. I turn the TV back on just in time to see Chelsea score two in two minutes and win the game.

Outside the clouds had cleared and the sun shone, but the win was cold and strong. We don't go out.

Instead we have supper, the rest of the wholemeal bread from Saturday, and a fresh brew. And ice cream.

The evening was the Merseyside derby, but with no fans. No atmosphere. And no passion apparently. It ends a dull 0-0 draw and that is two hours of my life I won't get back.

First bite of the Apple

Last week, Matt Hancock announced that the Government's in house track and trace app was being shelved, because of difficulties getting it to work with both Android, but in particular Apple platforms.

The Government had been warned this would happen.

But it went ahead and gave £80 million in contracts to Dom's friends to produce an independent one. This is because both Google and Apple's apps had the data in user's handsets, whereas Johnson's Government wanted the data centralised so it could be accessed and possibly sold on.

Hancock has since said at least twice that the Government had been working on their own and with Google and Apple at the same time, so switching from one app to the other was no big issue. Apple published a statement saying that the UK Government had not been in contact with them. Which Hancock disputes.

Now, who would you believe?

Remember the past history of Government procured IT systems shows they rarely go to plan. And a nationwide system for good and freight clearance will have to be up and running by the end of the year, or nothing can be exported to the EU.

The UK has said it will introduce a rolling increase of tariffs and checks taking, initially, 6 months to get to full speed, hoping the EU would do the same. The EU said no, full checks from January 1st 2021 will be introduced.

Well, everyone bar the Government is surprised by that one.

But Johnson is pressing on with not extending the transition agreement, no matter what. And it is sobering to think how bad things would have been if the pandemic had occurred a year later, when far fewer trucks and lorries would be making the cross-Channel trip to keep supplies running. Remember, trucks will only come to the UK if their owners know they can get back out again, and UK truck drivers may only be allowed to drive on EU roads in very small numbers due to limited number of licences available.

But I'm sure Johnson has this all covered.....

Saturday 20th June 2020

Summer solstice 2020.

At 21:44.

And Saturday.

And lots of football.

I guess I should say something about the return of football. And bear in mind my team, Norwich, got beaten heavily on Friday.

In general, the thought of football returning has been better than the actual experience of it. The TV coverage has canned crowd nose, which makes it seem almost normal, but then the wide angle shots show four empty stands.

Other than for money, why do it? If there are no fans, then we shouldn't be doing it.

After three nights of football, I was footballed out, and decided that I would watch little as possible on Saturday. But before kick off, there was time to go out.

The year presses on, and the main orchid season is over and the grande finale is coming, amazing as it sounds. But there was one, well two, species that I had not seen this year. One was the Birds Nest, but their time has come and gone, but the tiny Musk should now be at its peak. I had already been there twice to look and seen no sign, but one last try.

As if 5 hours wasted so far on the hunt wasn't enough.

But also thoughts turn to the oncoming Helleborine part of the season, and having seen pictures of Broad Leaved already open in the West Country, maybe I should check at The Larches? But that is at Maidstone, maybe a bit far on the offchance, should I check the nearest population near to Barham?

Which is why, shortly before nine in the morning, we were parking the car under a substantioal bridge which used to carry the Elham Valley line between Folkestone and Canterbury. A short walk along is a lane, and last year along that lane there was a colony of the very rare Yellow Birdsnest, as well as a few nice Broad Leaved Helleborines.

We walked down, and there was me expecting to find spikes nearly in flower, and finding little more then seedlings sticking out of the leaf litter. A few were further advanced, but not by much. And there was no Yellow Birds Nest either.

I follow a woodland path and find dozens of Fly Orchid spikes, now gone to seed, but clearly a place to investigate next year.

And above, the skies were again refusing to clear as expected.

Bugger.

A short drive down the valley took us back to Park Gate where it was time for the third and fnal search for the tiny and elusive Musk Orchids.

Things is, I know where and when to look. I know what to look for. Should be simple, but it seems in my mind the orchids which I remembered were begger than they actually were. But I would find that out later.

I search the whole of the third paddock, along all five of the paths. I see no Musk.

A couple arrive, and ask what I was looking for: Musk. Great he says, my friend found a spike during the week.

Oh great, that means I wasn't going to leave here until they were found. I realise this now, but not then I promised Jools ten more minutes. Just 15 more.

And so on.

The chap gets directions from his friend: take the middle path, a little way up and 18 inches off the path on the right. So clear.

The middle path. Of four paths.

Sigh.

I search both middle paths, and I had given up. I was walking to the gate to go to find Jools.

"Sir"

The chaps wife, Virginia calls to me. "Can you identify these?"

I go over, and I see three tiny spikes, each about 3cm tall. All clearly Musk spikes. I see a 4th nearby.

We take turns to take shots of the spikes in sunshine, hapy with that, I can now go to find Jools.

Jools was sat on the edge of the old quarry, reading a book on her phone, she was fine and knew what was going to happen, and she was cool with it.

The chap had said that the Marsh Helleborines were out at Sandwich, and I was tempted to go, but they would be there next weekend, so I say to JOols, lets go home for lunch, have a brew and relax.

So we do.

Back home I make dinner, chorizo hash, which we have not had for a while, and I can make it with 90% of my brain thinking of other stuff. I chop and boil potatoes, cut the vegetables and sausage. Cook them all one by one, then combining at the end into the wok and serving with cold frothing beers. Or cider.

Lovely.

There is football on the radio. With news of multiple matches going on, and Sports Report at five. Almost felt like normal.

I make a loaf of wholemeal bread for supper, to make ham sandwiches, then we can play Uckers. And I win again.

Finally, I open the bottle of whisky that was delivered this week, and at half nine we sit outside as the sun sets on the longest day, whilst bats do somersaults catching moths and other insects.

It'll soon be Christmas.

An orchid odyssey

It was March 20th 2010 when the seed of my orchid mania was sown.

I had arranged a Flickrmeet on the white cliffs, we walked from Dover to South Foreland Lighthouse, and our guide, Simon, said that in a few week, along the cliffs Early Spider Orchids could be seen.

Although I did nothing about this seed for some time, it did settle in a corner of my mind, and grew.

Orchids seem to generate a certain amount of obsession and mania in people. I know, it has in me.

For most of us, orchids were something exotic, seen in botanic gardens or in the sheds of eccentric distant relations. A great uncle of mine had such a shed, with tropical orchids hanging off pieces of bark, all in a temperature and humidity controlled double glazed shed in his suburban garden in Hemel Hempstead.

I was allowed in once, when I was old enough to drive and to obey when told not to touch.

In fact, I spoke to Donald a few months back when he called to hear about Mum, and when he asked what my hobbies were: well, I said, you might find this interesting, I said And he did find it interesting.

I acted on the seed in my head on April 22nd 2012, when I decided it was about time I looked for these orchids. Simon had spoken about them standing on the edge of Fan Bay that windswept March day 25 months before, and so the plan was to walk there and hunt. But, I had doubts. Would I know an orchid if I saw it?

I Googled Early Spider Orchids in Kent, and Mr Google told me that Samphire Hoe was the best place not just in Kent, but in England to see them. Turns out that is a bold claim, and a site in Dorset might have something to say about that, but I digress. Samphire Hoe wasn't far away, there was parking and had a tea bar. It would be a walk if nothing else, with refreshments at the end.

Nothing to loose.

We parked at the base of the cliffs, I got my camera fitted with macro lens out of the boot, and was about to walk off when another photographer walked past and asked if we were here to snap the orchids? We were, and the kind chap told us where to go and to look carefully. He said if we liked these we should go to Park Gate Down in a month to see the Monkey Orchids.

We walked down the path beside the railway, looking down on both sides. The sunlight picked out something burgundy, and looking closer it was a thing of wonder. A plant, the orchid, imitating an insect. Here, beside a stone path this wonderful little plant had chosen to live. We walked further and found dozens more.

Let's not beat around the bush here, I was hooked. In fact, I was so smitten, went to look for Park gate Down right after we had finished the orchid hunt there, and had a brew and bar of chocolate.

Park Gate is a small hamlet along the Elham Valley, and following the road through it, presented with a crossroads, we took one of the turns, the road wound through a wood and at the bottom we saw a partially hidden information board. This was it.

And as the photographer said, there was nothing to see at that time, but as we knew where the reserve was, we would be back. Frequently.

It was May 28th later that year that I saw a Monkey in flower. I had returned several times, saw other orchids flower, mainly Early Purples, but the Monkey was the one. It is a rare orchid in the UK, grows in Kent and Oxfordshire, but it is Kent where it can be found on two, maybe three locations where it is king.

The Monkey isn't Kent's only orchid speciality: there is the Late Spider. I mean if there is an Early Spider there has to be a Late, right?

The Late Spider is really rare, grows in three or four locations in East Kent, is slightly larger than it's Early cousin, and can be showier as the later conditions suit it better.

The first time I hunted for the Late Spider was a year later in July 2013. Now straight away that strikes me as being unusual, as July is now too late to see them in flower. As I write this on June 21st, they have all gone to seed here. A sign that climate is changing. This year, the first spike was seen flowering on May 10th, the seasons of the Early and Late were never meant to overlap meaning a hybrid between the two was almost impossible. Not now.

I went to Wye Down, parked at the Devil's Kneading Trough (don't ask), and looked at the expanse of grass on either side, pondering where to look. Two guys walked to their car next to mine, they were carrying cameras fitted with macro lenses, so I asked about the orchids.

Just my luck, they had been searching the down for three hours, found two colonies, but told me that one of them was next to a road along the bottom of the down. They told me where to park, and I went off to find the spot.

And find it I did. The side of a bowl cut out of the down had a line of orchid spikes hidden in wire cages along the edge of a path. And inside each was a single spike, most with a fantastic flower shining bright in the sunshine.

I owe my orchid knowledge, fieldcraft, to one person more than any other: Mark gave me all the information I needed to find each species. Without is generous help, I wouldn't have found what I did. Species after species was revealed to Jools and myself as the seasons progressed. It took a couple of years before I was totally orchid-focused, and 2014 before I did a "full" season, going to see all species I knew of, including the Lizard, Green Flowered, Broad Leafed Helleborine among them.

For this, I owe Mark so much. And we still share information of our more interesting finds.

2013 saw me sign up to a tour of the Kent orchid fields. June 5th saw I join what became great friends be guided by John, a wildlife guide, round the sites of Kent, and I think we saw 18 species either in flower or in bud that day.

2013 was a most unusual year, it was unseasonably cold until well into April, and so the first orchid spikes did not appear until the beginning of May. Early Spiders on about the 5th May, so the season was compressed, and even at the beginning of June, Early Spiders, Early Purples and Green Wing were in flower still. For my fifty quid I was given a tour of the sites, and as orchids pretty much grow in the same place each year, I knew where to go later that year and each season following.

One of the reasons for writing this post, and something I may have already done, is that something has occurred to me this year. Mankind likes to label things. Plants, animals and so on. With orchids there is a mania for naming oddities, variants that differ from the normal. So as well as seeing each species, people want to see examples of each named variant too. It's harmless, but does create a demand when something really rare and/or unusual comes up.

Over the years there have been many books published on UK hardy Orchids, one of the most recent I even am name checked as I helped the author see an unusual Early Spider. Another friend is having a new book on UK orchids published this year, and will feature some images by myself. In a break from other books, will not use variant names, but just will show images of all what is possible, which I quite like the idea of.

So, I have been hunting orchids for eight years/nine seasons, and so I have quite some fieldcraft. Some people demand we share the location of the things we find. And where possible I do. But, sometimes a location or the orchid is too fragile to be shared. We get accused of operating some kind of secret society where we are guardians of the knowledge. If only we could be sure people had just the desire to see and photograph the orchids, that might be OK. But orchids are stolen; dug up. Most will not grow in people's gardens, or live long enough to be sold on E Bay. And yes, I have seen hardy orchids, clealry wild ones, being shown for sale on the site. The sellers are reported, but some plants have already been dug up.

I run a group on Facebook, and the passion of the newer members has relit my own fire. Last year I arranged several meet ups, where the orchid and conditions allowed, and that was really, really enjoyable.

Mark and I are not alone in our orchid passion and knowledge. There is an army of other likeminded people, and our passion helps tracks how each species' season's change as climate change takes effect. Because change is happening.

Early Purples flowered in March this year, not that most could get out to see the orchids thanks to the lockdown.

Late Spiders now overlap quite significantly with Earlies.

Autumn Ladies Tresses are over by the time actual Autumn arrives. But some species emerge before their pollinators, butting their very existence under threat.

Other species are spreading over mainland Europe, and might soon make landfall here: the Woodcock Orchid (Ophrys scolopax) and the Giant Orchid (Himantoglossum robertianum). We on the Kent coast are on the lookout.

Things change. Slowly. Sometimes quickly.