Tuesday 29th September 2020

I am paid to be an auditor these days, travelling the country from one end to the other, auditing, mainly being a pain in the bum, asking difficult questions.

All our sites in the UK are on my radar, which will explain why I do travel so much in the UK now. Or would do if it were not for a global pandemic. That means my travel are very much curtailed. In fact, I have been out of Kent just once since March 13th, and those three nights in Southampton were very scary, as everything seemed so normal.

Whatever normal is.

I should have travelled back to Southampton and the Isle of Wight this week, to accompany our external certification, er, certifiers, to do some certifying audits.

But last week's increasing dire news on lockdowns and infection rates meant I did not feel it safe. I made my case to my boss, and she agreed.

The certification body didn't, and in the end one of their guys has travelled, and is staying on the Isle tonight when three weeks ago he said he wouldn't. Go figure.

So, yesterday afternoon, instead of driving to Southampton, I stayed home. Which meant Tuesday morning's commute was from one chair to another.

I woke up surrounded by cats.

Hungry cats.

Jools wan't there to feed them, so I had to.

I went down stairs and fed them one by one, then made my own coffee. It was quarter to six, and outside the day broke and a hazy scene of the Dip shrouded in sea mist was revealed.

I make breakfast, for me and Jools, so she has something to eat when she gets in. And a tea.

I have a shower, so am all nice and fresh when she got in at quarter to seven. She had had a hard day at work, steady, and having to stand up again the whole 12 hours. She took her tea upstairs and fell asleep wit the bedroom door closed. The cats tried to get in, then gave up.

I had breakfast and my second coffee and prepared for the eight hours I would spend the day, listening to others auditing and being auditors. I would take notes.

And at nine, so began one of the longest days, sitting at the dining room table while others talked, and upstairs, Jools slept.

The morning dragged.

Lunch was clled at quarter to one, with just enough time to make a cheese toastie, nip out sit on the patio on the surprise sunshine, to eat my lunch and drink my fresh coffee.

And then back to the notetaking.

He afternoon dragged further. And slower.

I took many more notes.

Jools was due to go back to work at quarter past five, so instead of me cooking, she went to the shippy for tea, which I eat while taking the notes from the closing meeting.

The meeting barely finished before Jools had to go, and I was alone.

Though you're never alone with cats and kittens, are you?

Indeed.

I wash up, make a brew, then write blogs before I settle down to watch the second half of the Spurs v Chelsea game in the League Cup.

Cats and kittens kept an eye on me, so once Spurs won the shoot out, I went to bed, with Cleo shadowing me, and laid at my feet as I read for twenty minutes before turning in.

Ascension Island

Yesterday, it emerged in an exclusive in the FT that the Home Secretary has explored the possibility of setting up refugess camps on Ascension Island.

From Wikki:

"Ascension Island is an isolated volcanic island, 7°56′ south of the Equator in the South Atlantic Ocean. It is about 1,600 kilometres (1,000 mi) from the coast of Africa and 2,250 kilometres (1,400 mi) from the coast of Brazil. It is governed as part of the British Overseas Territory of Saint Helena, Ascension and Tristan da Cunha,[2] of which the main island, Saint Helena, is around 1,300 kilometres (800 mi) to the southeast. The territory also includes the sparsely-populated Tristan da Cunha archipelago, some 3,730 kilometres (2,300 mi) to the south, about halfway to the Antarctic Circle.

The island is named after the day of its recorded discovery, Ascension Day. It was an important safe haven and coaling station to mariners and for commercial airliners during the days of international air travel by flying boats. During World War II it was an important naval and air station, especially providing antisubmarine warfare bases in the Battle of the Atlantic.[3] Ascension Island was garrisoned by the British Admiralty from 22 October 1815 to 1922.

The island is the location of RAF Ascension Island, which is a Royal Air Force station, a European Space Agency rocket tracking station, an Anglo-American signals intelligence facility and the BBC World Service Atlantic Relay Station. The island was used extensively as a staging point by the British military during the Falklands War. Ascension Island hosts one of four ground antennas that assist in the operation of the Global Positioning System (GPS) navigational system (others are on Kwajalein Island, Diego Garcia, and Cape Canaveral). NASA operates a Meter Class Autonomous Telescope (MCAT) on Ascension Island for tracking orbital debris, which is potentially hazardous to operating spacecraft and astronauts, at a facility called the John Africano NASA/AFRL Orbital Debris Observatory."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ascension_Island

Like many servicemen and women, I have landed on the island.

Unlike many of them, I actually stayed one nigt on the island when our RAF VC10 broke down. Planes used to land there to refuel on the long flight south. And when once the refuelling had taken place, the plane moved and there was this pool of hyraulic fluid that had leaked from the wing.

We'll never stay the night said someone who had done the trip before.

But we did. As it took 12 hours to fix the plane.

So, the plane dropped from cruising altitude, lower and lower, until it seemed we were skimming just above the wave tops. There was no sign of land, then at the last minute there was land and we tounched down.

There was a runway, a radar station, a radio relay station. And little else.

There is an RAF base there, and some personnel were posted there to move freight, and the lucky few could fly up for R&R from the Falklands for four days if you knew the right people.

Once it became clear that the pane could not be fixed that night, we were taken to the accommodation, and when we switched the light on, the floor moved as dozens of huge roaches scuttled for shade.

As we were due to land in the Falklands in April, it was just after their "summer" had ended, so we were dressed in winter clothes. Azzi is almost on the equator.

It was hot.

So, we retreated to the bar where we drank the island dry in three hours.

Azzi is fine. For 24 hours, or a four day break from the grind of RAF Mount Pleasant. But it is the top of a volcano, 4,000 miles from the UK and water and other supplies is a serious issue, and Priti Vacant wanted to send immigrants there.

Even better, there was also the question of using St Helena.

St Helena is even more remote. There are infrequent boats from Azzi, maybe once a month. Its so remote that's where Napoleon was exiled too. And Priti wanted to send immigrants there too.

This Government is both stupid, and evil. Priti just about the worst of them as she is shameless, and there is a rumour some want her to take over from Johnson when the time comes. She is the Snow Queen, made real.

This is where we are now: something like the law of Human Rights Act is just something to be got round, like Parliamentary Scrutiny.

It would be better if we sent Johnson, Gove, Patel, Hancock et al to Assi to see who would be last Tory standing, then we could lock them in the Tower. Instead they will be in power for four more years.

Weep for us.

And tonight, the Guardian is reporting that Number 10, not the Home Office, is pushing for "processing centres for refugees in plaes as diverse as: Moldova, Morocco and Papua New Guinea.

Weep for what we have become.

Breaking the law, breaking the law

Last night, not one Conservative MP voted against the amendment that the Government should follow the Rule of Law and that should protect the independence of the Judiciary. Even former Prime Minister and second worse PM in history, Theresa May, who last week made an impressive, impassioned speech about Governments following the Rule of Law, did not vote against it. She failed to vote at all.

Meanwhile the Prime Minister, instead of holding the scheduled Cabinet meeting or maybe holding another COBRA meeting, travelled to the West Country for a photo-op with regard to adult retraining. And in a press conference got his Government’s legal restrictions for the North East, passed by SI (of course), totally wrong. He did apologise for “mis-speaking”, but the Health Secretary also got it wrong, and is legislation he is responsible for under which the SI was issued.

Most lambasted a clueless Prime Minister who cannot communicate in a clear and concise way, so said pity the poor mite, he’s under a lot of pressure and we all make mistakes. Like breaking the law or giving unlawful advice to the Monarch, I mean, who hasn’t done that one time or another?

The UK requested that car parts from other 3rd countries, Turkey and Japan, be counted as UK, so to avoid tariff and non-tariff barriers come January. The EU refused. This is what happens when you threaten to break the international treaty you signed just nine months ago. This was revealed in a leaked letter from Michael Gove to the motor industry. This will wreck their supply chains. As Brexit was always going to do, though that was project fear then.

So, onto Wednesday, and the shitshow carries on.

Oh, and late last night, another SI was released just minutes before they were to come into force, creating even more uncertainty as to what is legal and not now in many parts of the country. The one person keeping track of these, Adam Wagner, can't understand it, but that might be because he tweeted his impressions after midnight. This is not how normal democracies behave. But is now normal.

I think we are up to 55 sets of SIs and ammendments.

And finally, those who were pointing out that the death rate was not rising therefore the second wave was fake news, will be heartened by the fact the death rate did jump from 13 to 71 in 24 hours. Your wish to be proved wrong has come true. Well done.

The law is broken. By the Government.

The government and Tory MPs have just voted against a motion in the House of Commons which “requires ministers to respect the rule of law and uphold the independence of the courts”.

Both the Lord Chancellor and Attourney General voted in favour of the lawless Government, despite both being member or head of The Bar and taken an oath to uphold The Law.

This is shameful, and will so much damage to UK and Britain's reputation around the world.

There are no words.

Monday 28th September 2020

Well, here we are, the new normal.

I am working from home, even though I should have gone to Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, and Jools is going to work night shots four nights a week at least until the end of October. Meaning from quarter past five to quarter to seven the next morning, I am home alone with just cats and kittens for company.

Over the weekend, Jools has been going to be an hour later, so by Sunday night she stayed up to midnight, in order that she did not fall asleep at work. I stayed up Saturday night to eleven, watching train videos on YouTube, other thubes are available, but Sunday I was pooped.

She set the alarm for half five Monday morning, with the intention of going to bed for a snooze in the afternoon. But packed her morning with all sorts of chores, from walking before sunrise, to a tip run, collecting drugs from the surgery and some shopping.

I drank coffee, ate breakfast and then went to work.

Jools was more productive than I was.

It was a cold and dull day, not much photo action to be done, so I made do with just working. Its what they pay me for, isn't it?

It is.

We have sandwiches for lunch, then Jools goes to bed, shutting the door to keep demanding cats and kittens from sleeping on the bed with her. The did take turns to scratch the door, before giving up. To keep them quiet, I fed them at regular intervals.

Jools slept on, and outside, the sun came out. I rush out with the camera, with a posse of felines following me. Mulder was very insistant I listened to him meow, probably asking why the kittens were still here.

At the other end of the garden, Poppy hides on a shrub, hoping to catch an unsupsecting bird. She might just do it.

Meanwhile, butterflies emerge from their roots to take advantage of the late afternoon sun to get some scran in. I take their shots, or this one Small White, feasting and basking.

Dinner is fish cakes, freshish corn and slaw. All very nice.

I have wine, Jools doesn't, because as soon as she had eaten, she had to head to work. The cats wonder where she had gone, but soon focussed on me.

I fed them some more.

They were happy with that.

After cleaning up, I make a coffee and take to the sofa with Poppy and Scully sleep nearby, its all rather cosy.

I was there to watch yet more football. Good games, with lots of action, but I barely manage to stay awake until the end of the Liverpool v Arse game.

I saw, out of the corner of my eye through the window in the front garden, and saw some black and white, so wondered which one out of Scully or Cleo was out mooching. It was neither, as the badger turned round and looked right at me, before shuffling off, snuffling for peanuts on the ground before trundling off into the night.

Then to bed, where several cats soon joined me.

The week in Tory

From @RussInCheshire today:

1. In June Boris Johnson said to Black Lives Matter protestors: “I hear you”, and acknowledged the “incontrovertible, undeniable feeling of injustice” that “we simply cannot ignore”

2. So obviously, 40 Tory MPs refused to take part in unconscious bias training

3. The govt shut pubs an hour early, seemingly under the impression coronavirus (an inert, sub-microscopic infectious entity with no brain or nervous system) can tell the time

4. The govt demanded we all follow the rules

5. The govt exempted House Of Commons bars from the rules

6. Health Minister Helen Whately said “people who get drunk and leave the pub to keep on partying should remember their responsibility for the nation’s health”

7. Helen Whateley, who is *actually* responsible for the nation’s health, was sober when she said this. Presumably

8. After 6 months of world-leading “throwing apps in the bin but taking the cash anyway”, the govt finally proudly released an NHS Testing App

9. It didn't work with NHS tests

10. Or on 18% of phones

11. Or in Scotland or Northern Ireland

12. And a report said only 10% of the us will use it, cos we don’t trust Dominic Cummings with our data

13. Nor should we: the Data Commissioner said Cummings' proposed changes to privacy law will see the UK barred from sharing global data, and cost the UK economy "up to £80bn"

14. Meanwhile the promise of 500,000 tests per day won’t be reached because, in news that should shock nobody, the govt failed to order enough raw materials

15. So the govt stopped releasing evidence of how many are being tested, cos if you don't look at it, it isn't real

16. The govt, which only weeks ago was demanding we go back to work or all get sacked, now demands we all stay at home

17. Them the govt said the reason the UK had the worst Covid response AND worst economy in Europe is because we are “freedom-loving”

18. And then govt freedom-lovingly banned schools from using any materials that criticised capitalism

19. Not content with this, they also banned schools discussing “victim narratives”, which is going to make it tough to maintain their national anti-bullying strategy

20. And then a leaked report said the govt was planning to freedom-lovingly deploy the military on the streets

21. Meanwhile, the govt announced only 24% of businesses have done any preparation for Brexit, and only 30% of cross-channel HGVs have the correct paperwork

22. The govt finally admitted what they’d been told repeatedly since 2016, and said Brexit would create 2-day queues of 7000 lorries at Channel ports

23. 7000 lorries (at the average 16.5m each) is 115.5km. That’s a queue over 70 miles long. Every day.

24. To solve this, the govt announced a new internal border in Kent, helpfully relocating 700 miles of queues to London, Essex, Surrey and East Sussex instead

25. A month ago, Tory MP Sir Edward Leigh was demanding we “take back” Calais. Now we’re essentially abandoning Kent.

27. Oh, and border checks won’t be ready in Northern Ireland either

28. But we might not have a problem anyway: it was revealed there are just 2000 EU haulage permits for our 40,000 UK hauliers. That’s 5% of what we need, for any Govt Ministers struggling with the maths

29. And we don’t even have enough pallets for the goods we import, cos we currently rely on a supply we share with the EU, and have neither the wood nor the treatment plants, nor the required chemicals to make and treat our own

30. So now the govt has to make a 200m border, a mechanism for policing it, an internal passport system, software, admin, buy 38,000 permits and grow enough trees for 700,000 pallets. In 3 months.

31. It had 5 months to add up some A-Level results, and that went swimmingly

32. I’m sure supply-and-demand won’t force prices sky high, cos it never does when you have 5% of the food the nation needs and a govt which boasts about breaking the law, but it was also announced tariffs will add £3.1bn to the nation’s food bill in Jan 2021

33. As a mark of confidence, Jim Ratcliffe, Britain’s richest man and a leading Brexiteer, buggered off to Monaco

34. And an unnamed minister was quoted: “We are stuck in a bind. If we try to cancel Brexit we destroy ourselves; if we go ahead with it we destroy the country”

35. The London School of Economics reported the long-term cost of Brexit will be 2-3 times the cost of Covid

36. So Rishi Sunak cancelled the budget, cos once again, if you don’t look at it, it doesn’t exist

37. JPMorgan shifted £200 billion out of the UK and into Germany calling it “a result of Brexit”.

38. At least 22% of our entire national economy depends on international banks based in the City of London, so when the largest one fucks off, it's a relaxing development

39. Theresa May said the govt’s bill to break international law is “reckless” and “risks the integrity of the United Kingdom”

40. The Attorney General, who takes an oath to parliament, the Queen and The Bar to observe the law, said she was “very proud” to be breaking the law

41. The UK is a signatory and legal guarantor of the Good Friday Agreement, which brought peace to the island of Ireland after 3600 violent deaths. The Attorney General, who is sworn to maintain peace, says Brexit will break the GFA, and she is “extremely proud” of that too.

42. Turns out, the advisory Professor who told her she should go ahead and break the law and endanger peace in Ireland is the partner of Michael Gove’s special advisor. It’s amazing, these coincidences. Almost as if they don’t want to listen to anybody else

43. Speaking of which, Boris Johnson’s old friend and unfailingly irrumating backer (google it) Charles Moore, who has spent his life demanding the end of the BBC, and said the BBC causes "human misery worthy of Dickens" (does he mean Mrs Brown's Boys?) is in line to run the BBC

44. And it was reported ex Daily Mail Editor Paul Dacre, who shouts c*unt so much his meetings are called “the vagina monologues”, and whose paper is banned as a Wiki reference cos it lies so often, is going to be put in charge of Ofcom: ensuring decent and honest broadcasting

45. Oh yeah, and Boris Johnson tweeted “a free press is vital in holding the government to account”, which is probably why the people holding his govt to account are being replaced with his mates and cheerleaders

46. Tory MP and successful conscience-donor Andrea Jenkins got paid £25k from a thinktank that doesn’t exist

47. And because no list is complete without a disturbing nocturnal visitation from the smirking angel of death, Priti Patel was accused of incitement to racial hatred

48. Whilst Patel, Jenkyns and the Attorney General were busy redefining “the party of Law and Order” the rest of the govt took a wild swing at “the party of fiscal responsibility”, when it was revealed the govt has wasted £3,895,556,000 since March.

49. This includes unsafe testing kits; face masks that don’t work; broken tracing systems; useless antibody tests; cancelled ventilator challenge; and inexplicable contracts to sweet manufacturers and dormant companies with no employees, to provide PPE that never arrived

50. The govt, which insisted schools and universities reopened, said it was now vital to lock down students and prevent them from mixing in large groups

51. And then the govt said it was sanctioning class sizes of up to 60 which ... remind me, is that more or fewer than 6?

52. Matt Hancock said “we’re giving up to 11,000 iPads to care homes to enable residents to connect with loved ones”

53. “Up to” is a bit telling, but even if it’s 11,000, there are 21,700 care homes in the UK. I guess they’ll just have to share. Goodbye forever, nana!

54. And finally, if you feel all alone in despairing at this: you aren’t. Belief in Britain as a “global force for good” has fallen 10% since 2019. I, for one, am shocked to the core.

Know your rights, these are your rights.

Late last night new, even stronger restrictions came into force, banning people, under the threat of the Law, not to sing, even in small groups.

This is another example of restrictions on people’s basic freedom of assembly, taken away, with no Parliamentary oversight or scrutiny.

Let me be clear, the measures might have been necessary, but there should have been debate in The Commons at least as to whether the powers are proportionate and if they should be time limited.

But no, they were issued by SI, and the legal profession, the Police and you and I have to make sense of the 54 word salads of contradictory legislation that has been issued by diktat.

It is shameful.

Even the Daily Hate Mail has had enough, but this is more to do with putting the pressure on Johnson not to backtrack on Brexit, which very much in the news this week, as the final round of talks on the future relationship get under way.

A law firm represented 9 students at Manchester University to seek clarification under which law they were being held prisoner in their student accommodation. Turns out there was no law after all, and pictures were published of fire exits having been locked shut to prevent students from leaving.

We are not going to visit Jen, Sylv and Betty for now, as mixing from more than one household is banned, and so John goes that makes it against the law for us to go too. Anyway, we do not want to introduce the risk of COVID into Jen’s house. We are taking this very seriously. Also shown as I am not in Hampshire today, doing an audit, which would switch to the Isle of Wight tomorrow.

Just too risky.

The restrictions, as announced, are not hard enough to control the pandemic. They are thus, to placate the two wings of the Conservative Party; the ones who believe in facts and the ones that believe in Brexit. Meaning that the same mistake as was done in March, too little too late, will be done again.

Meanwhile, according to John Hopkins University, yesterday saw the one millionth person on the planet to die of COVID. 20% are from the US, which has 5% of the global population. And estimates of UK deaths vary between 42,000 and nearly 70,000.

In the UK and most of Europe the second wave is clearly coming, whereas in the US they are still dealing with the first wave, which will merge with the second to create as tsunami of death. As in Florida, bars were allowed to reopen with no restrictions.

Sunday 27th September 2020

Most day. Most weeks. Most months, the west of the country gets the rain, and we don't. But this weekend, it was opposite, as the eastern half of the country was smothered in clouds, whilst the west basked in actual sunshine.

If Saturday began dry, if grey and windy, Sunday did not mess about, with driving rain from the start. Even the kittens didn't want to go out. Cleo went out of the catflp and ten seconds later she came back in.

There was no point in going out, even working in the garden was out of the question.

We settled down to spend the day in a state of relaxation.

I make 1st breakfast of fruit, go for a hower then make second breakfast of bacon butties. Banon cured with maple syrup! Good, but not as good as bacon, with pancakes, smothered with maple syrup. But it'll do.

I thought there was football on at midday, but not on the package I have, so I write, edit shots and fritter the day away.

By two, the rain had stopped, but it was darn cold. I put on the football, and so the afternoon passes.

For the second game I say I will watch the second half only, and make busy cooking crusted rack of lamb, pan fried potatoes and sweet chilli stur fry.

That was wonderful, and just the right amount. I put on the TV to find that Leicester had levelled against Citeh, so waited for the second half, when Leicester cut loose, scored four more and ended up thrashing Citeh 5-2.

Wow.

Somehow, it was evening, and I could not face a third game to watch, so don't watch West Ham thrash Wolves (!), instead mess around online, do some other stuff.

And that was it.

Another weekend gone, and almost no shots taken.

Feels like winter is nearly here...

One rule for them

All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others.

Starting another post with a George Orwell quote, bacuase this morning it emerged that bars in Parliamant were made exempt of the 22:00 curfew that all other licenced establiments in the country had to comply with.

Because, someone had classified the bars as "works canteens".

This loophole has now been closed, but shows that there is clearly one rule for us, that MPs expect us to follow, and a different one for them, because because.

Another loophole that was closed was the one that meant the NHS branded app could not collect data from actual NHS tests.

Remember, this was supposed to be the second or third world beating opp.

The last there is data for, 26th September, showed just under 6,000 new cases.

Tonight, the BBC Panorama program is showing an edition based on submissions from those employed on older versions of the track and trace programms where one person traced one infected person in four months of work, and another who once they had got the rest of the test, traced the person to tell them to isolate, only for the ten period to have already elapsed.

Accurate and fast testing, leading to quick track and trace is essential, otherwise those who were tested, shown to be positive, won't know and will carry on going on about their business, possibly infecting hundreds of people.

Meanwhile, more video emerged from around the country, of crowds assembling in town and ciity centres just after midnight when pubs kicked out. No social distancing.

This is a failure of leadership, no more no less, along with the mixed messaging which was until a couple of weeks ago to go back to work, coming after eat out to help out and it is your patriotic duty to drink in pubs.

Saturday 26th September 2020

As you know from yesterday's post, the 1st anniversary of Mum's passing.

And a day with much to ponder as the 366 days between have brought many changes, and last month, saw us pay off the mortgage on Chez Jelltex, as a direct result of her passing.

Truth is, I don't miss Mum. I had stopped calling every week a couple of years before when Mum made it clear she wasn't going to change. It's not something I have regretted. Although the old Sunday night phone call was short and not so sweet, we talked about nothing, she never had any news, and really had little interest in what we did. They were just words. And so we called when there was news. Sometimes she made up an excuse, but calls went from once a week to once a month.

Her cleaner, Sheila, had worked for many people of Mum's age and health to know she was near the end. I never thought that time would come, her and her genes would see to that. But then her case worker at the council tried to get her to move to a home, and she seemed set on it, then declared herself fit.

And that was that, she died a month later. She might have anyway, who knows.

For the past year things have gone our way, even through the pandemic, and still are. We have high hopes for the future and to travel and meet old friends, if we can.

Life goes on.

And on.

So to Saturday, and what to do.

Well, how about some churchcrawling?

Why not.

And I got it into my head to go to Old Romney, on the edge of the Romney Marsh.

The Romney Marsh and its churches are some of the most visited places in all of Kent, and in July when I had some time off work, one midweek morning we visited three churches, all open. So, thinking of revisiting St Clement since I was last there will my friend, Simon K, I thought it a good idea to use this Saturday for a visit.

The weather was grey, dull with a cold wind, so botanising was really out, so some churchcrawling.

We drove out along the coast road from Hythe, through Dymchurch to New Romney, as there is a larger and older parish church there: so the New church is older than the old church.

Work that one out.

Anyway, traffic was mad in New Romney as people drove to avoid taking the bus or walking, so we inched to Church Approach, with the large west tower in front.

Closed.

There was no chance it was just closed against the weather, there are usually church open signs here. Not today.

So we drive through the houses back to the coast road, then out to Old Romney.

St Clement stands on a low mound next to the main road, I was hopeful of it being open, but as we pulled up on the lane leading to the church, I could see the laminated sign on the porch door.

Several Marsh churches are open with very limited hours on one or two days a week, and the ones I wanted to visit not open on a Saturday.

And St Clement was one of three that were closed until further notice.

Just exterior shots taken this visit.

Sadly.

We went back to the car and I drove us home. It was still quiet, even for a Saturday in September.

We got back and had cheese and crackers for lunch, as I had bough a wedge of Stinking Bishop from the butchers, it is a mighty strong spreading cheese, the first time they have sold it in a few years, mainly because it stunk the shop out. Each wedge is now wrapped, so the stink cannot get out.

It is most splendid, and we have enough for more on Sunday.

Jools was trying to switch to nights, so had a snooze in the afternoon while I listened to the football, outside it rained. Hard. Mulder can in, jumped up on my chest and shook.

Nice.

The continues to dusk, and beyond into the night.

We have pizza for dinner, shop bought ones, as it would be easier. We haven't done that for ages, but was good.

We play Uckers, Jools wins.

Sigh.

I watch videos of cab rides on trains riding the L in Chicago. And drank whisky.

It got messy.

We went to bed at half eleven.

1984

"The Party seeks power entirely for its own sake. We are not interested in the good of others; we are interested solely in power. ... Power is not a means, it is an end. ... The object of power is power. ... There will be no loyalty, except loyalty towards the Party."

On both side of the Atlantic, the parties in power are trying to grab yet more power. At least in the UK there's not much evidence they know what to do with the new powers they crave, other than to have it for power's sake. What we can say so far is that people like Cummings having unfettered power has shown how important scrutiny is, and how unsuited to being in power, any kind of power he and Vote Leave actually are.

Latest news is over here that regulatory jobs in the media are being offered to people like Paul Dacre, someone who hates the BBC. The main reason for these stories is, for the same reason as in the US, it triggers the Libs. That is where we are, and yet at the same time, the framework of our democracy, this time the state broadcaster is under threat because it is perceived as being too left wing, yet Brexit having happened and Nigel being on programs like Question time more times than anyone else.

Students at Manchester University have been told this weekend that they are forbidden, by law, to leave their rooms to either mix, go shopping, go to lectures, anything, under the threat of being arrested and fined.

Only it seems that none of the 53 or 54 pieces of emergency legislation issued as SIs actually have such powers, and that the University might actually be breaking the law themselves, as there is no restriction, let alone law, that forbids a person, even if tested positive, from travelling, let alone be a prisoner in their room.

@AdamWagner1 has been keeping track of the legislation passed, keeps them in a spreadsheet with all the clauses: he seems to be the only person in the country doing this, keeping track of what might and might not be against regulations or against the law. He says that the e mail sent to students: "This message would not comply with the statutory requirements as it does not state the legal basis of the lockdown. If this was the only message received by students I don’t see how they have been lawfully locked down (even if they could be)" in that it does not state which legislation has to be complied with. They have to self-isolate for 14 days.

Meanwhile, Sky Sports are reporting: "A Test and Trace source says the speed of spread in schools came as a surprise." "Schools have been a disaster. The amount of calls, volume of cases. Within only days of schools going back... It swamped health protection and risked other stuff being missed."

And Brexit ploughs on with more talks between the UK and EU this week, though there is talk of a breakthrough, which will probably been Johnson blinking and agreeing to what he has currently said is unacceptable. But we have heard that before.

The Government hasn't the bandwidth or required skills to cope with one crisis at a time, they have at least four: COVID, Brexit, war on Civil Service and the collapse of the legal system.

4654

Coming to America.

I first went to America in November 1996, on detachment to Nellis AFB outside Las Vegas.

I was based at Lyneham, we flew Hercules from there. I did not fly Hercs, I looked after rifles and pistols, and occasionally armed the planes with chaff and flare.

But twice a year, the Hercs from 47 SF (Special Forces) Squadron, would fly over to Nevada for two weeks of war games when they would always, and I mean always, get shot down. Chaff and flare did not work.

But still they tried.

I was due to go, then the detatchment got cancelled, and was then on again: did I still want to go?

I did.

For us, America was Hollywood, even the riral bits like Arkansas where families like the Dukes of Hazard lived and played with the local inept police.

I knew America from shows like Casey Jones and the cowboy films my Ganddad liked to watch. And then there was The Streets of San Francisco and later, Starsky and Hutch.

America seemed not just like another country, but another world. Cars were as wide as bars, roads went straight up hill, so that cars took off at flant junctions. It was always sunny, houses seemed huge and was the land of plenty.

I knew no one who ever went to the US on holiday. A friend, Jon, had relations in Canada and he once went there for several MONTHS, it seemed so exotic. Freddie Laker had started Skytrain for bargain price flights to the US, to New York and Florida. We did not go. 1975, 76 and 77 were hard times for us, we didn't have much money at all, let alone for holidays, two years in a row we visited friends in Billericay. Essex. One year adding a week in a "traditionsl" Bed and Breakfast in Southend on mud. We had £5 a day to live on, we ate at a kosher restaurant every night as we got a three course meal within our budget.

So, America was a big deal.

We flew in the aircraft we were going to Service, XV298, a special forces air frame, which had chaff and flare bins all over it.

It takes a while to fly to the US by Hercules. We did the Atlantic in one hop, but landing at Goose Bay, Newfoundald for refueling and half an hour in the bar. I spent the two US dollars I had collected as a child on a can of fizzy tasteless Budweiser. I felt like a king.

We flew to Washington to refule again, then to Las Vegas. Where it was hot. In November.

We were travelling on NATO Travel Orders, so did not need my passport. But we had them, did I want my passport stamped with an entry stamp?

Hell yes.

Outside, was a US Air Force bus, like the school buses from millions of American kid's TV shows, the door was even operated by the driver via a handle.

We were here, in the US. Look at those huge American cars! Oh look, a stretch limo!

Half an hour later we were bored, as we waited for permission to leave for the Budget Suites we were staying in. So very unglamourous.

Each time the RAF went on detatchement to Nellis, they send out a tender to all hotels in the area, and the cheapest was always Caesars Palace who would charge us £$17 a night, that the MOD would pay. But if word got out that servicemen, lower rank servicemen, were staying there then there would be hell to pay. So, we stayed elsewhere, off the strip. Ours was behind the Stardust Casino, where eat as much as you can breakfast was three bucks.

So, we did not use the kitchen in our suites, which must have pleased the maids.

After arriving, showering, we went out to Treasure Island for their as much as you can eat buffet, some beers, drinks with the offgoing shift who were flying home that night at midnight, we then went to The Beach for some drunken frugging and more beer.

The next morning we were up at seven for the van into work, the detatchment brief, then stood down for the day to overcome jet lag. We went to Silver City Casino where domestic beers were seventy five cents a bottle. We went there every day, made friends with the bartender and security guy. And it was the bartender that told us they knew which machines were going to pay out and when. It was fixed. From then on, I only put change in machines, just for fun. Fun seeing the machine light up, deal some cards or spin the reels and find you lost.

You always lose in Vegas.

We went for BBQs over the weekend. Temperatures was in the (imperial) 70s. No one else went camping, none of the locals, if there are any in Vegas. We had the camping ground to ourselves, as no one does BBQ in Novevember. Only us Brits.

We did have trouble trying to buy burgers. To cook.

We kept getting told to go to Burger King or McDonald's. When we were able to explain what we wanted, we were told, you should ask for patties.

So, we knew.

And after two weeks of work, drinking and dancing, we left for home. Flaying in the Hercules again, but able to take home a large item, a bike or Weber from the PX, and then had to sit on the freight all the way home as we were carrying so much stuff, spare parts, empty ammo cans and bike and Webers, there was no where else to sit. My Walkman got a lot of use that trip.

And it was the same in 1999 when I went again, for three weeks, but 12 hour days in the August heat of the desert, eaight hours drinking and patrying did break us all, on my birthday, in Club Rio. We fall asleep at our table and were kicked out.

A year later I celebrated my divorce and passing my promoton course to go back, taking my old friend, Rambo, to Vegas for 17 days. And nights.

No one goes to vegas for 17 nights. In November. Half of it closed.

But we did party just about everywhere that was open. And when I say party, I mean prop up bars in casios all up and down the Strip.

But Vegas is not America. It's in America but is not typical.

My next trip tot he US was to. New Hampshire.

New Hampshire is in New England, is pretty much empty, and is like the Arctic in Winter. As I was to find out. There is, apparently, a place further north than New Hampshire, called Canada, or something. I think you get there through the back of a wardrobe where you'll meet a talking moose or something.

Anyway.

I had a friend.

We had a thing.

As much as you can have a thing via e mail and long distance telephone calls. We wrote every day, and spoke a lot. He ex was going to kill me if I set foot in New England.

I did set foot in New England, at Boston Logan airport.

He did not kill me.

And in time things settled down and we met up and we played Crib. But that was years in the future.

New Hampshire is about a two and a half drive from Boston, up the interstate and up the Turnpike. I think it was autumn I went, it was warm and the fall colours were golden. She lived in a trailer in Rochester, and all went well for a week. But the reality of me being in the RAF still, based in UK and she bringing up two children on her own meant it was just pipe dreams, really.

We remained friends, and even I thought about moving there, we had plans to live in Portsmouth NH, I looked into health insurance and jobs I could do, but the dream died. I guess it would have been interesting and exciting to live there, but, it wasn't meant to be.

Just up the road from the trailer, was Walmart. One day I needed something and said I would walk, I mean, it was less than half a mile. Did I want to borrow her car?

Her eldest son was sent to keep watch on me.

The road up from the trailer park was through woods, we could just about walk beside the road without getting run over. Drivers were surprised to see people walking, and some even moved out to pass us with more than a few inches gap. But then at the main road, with the store opposite, there was no foot crossing, as there were never anyone walking. So we had to dash between the traffic to get across.

Then, once in the store, I got my own personal shopper, helping me find what it was I was looking for: a DVD or CD or something. Apparently no one has a personal shopper in Walmart. I did.

There is aonly a small stretch of coast in NH, and it seems that most of it is private land, so to see the sea we had to go into Maine, which was like just next door, and we drove up to Bangor, via York Beach and Orgunquit. I lkked Orgunquit, a fishing village, looked perfect in the fall. We stood on the pier watching fishing boats sail out. Was very nice.

She had a family friend, Garro, who lived in a rented house in York beach, just down the road from the picturesque Nubble Lighthouse.

The next year I saved up my annual leave and had three weeks there, a week on Cape Cod and two in New Hamsphire to celebrate Christmas before flying back home on January 2nd.

Cape Cod in December is cold. That I found a hotel open did not surprise me. I had my favourite fleece coat, which I still use, some jumpers, and thought I would be fine.

I nearly froze to death.

Zero degrees Fahrenheit is cold. Colder still when you are on an arm of land jutting out into the Atlantic. And when it was windy. Well, cold doesn't enter into it.

One night I walked from the motel into town, ten minutes, for dinner. I was so cold, I had a bowl of Chowder, followed by another, just to warm up.

I drove to Rochester after my freezing week on The Cape, a week before Christmas. It was fine.

It snowed.

Four feet.

I did not snow fell in feet. I mean I did, but thought that was for mountain tops and things, not on actual towns. Four feet of snow is a lot. Walmart cleared their car parks before the roads were cleared, and after the second storm put another four feet down, there were walls of snow 12 feet high beside the roads were the ploughs had pushed the drifts.

It was fun, and pretty. I went out in the weak sunlight between storms to take a few shots. But we did did risk getting run over by snowmobiles as no one elese was mad enough to walk on the heath, that was for snowmobiles to drive flat out, leaping of mounds of earth and snow.

I survived. There was talk of a third storm coming in, the night before I was due to fly back. No worries about the flight, as four feet in New Hampshire equalled an inch on the coast in Boston, I just had to get there.

The snow arrived early, and heavy snow in NH was nothing like I had seen. We dropped her sons off at friends as we were going to head to Boston to get me there for the flight, 12 hours early, but would be there.

We drove out of town in blizzard conditions, driving at 30mph as SUVs whizzed by. We passed them later as they drove off the road into the trees, unable to turn at the speed they were going.

We reached the interstate. It was closed. I wasn't going to make it to the airport, no way.

We turned back.

The roads were near impassable, he Mom lived in Dover, yeah, NH, and she had a spare key, we might just make it there.

We did.

And so we spent the night in her Moms house, as the snow, literally piled up outside. Next morning we had to dig a path out to the road for her Mom to get in, the car was buried under a drift. We stayed another day.

I had to call British Airways to get a new flight, and inform my NCO I would not be at work monday morning. I sent photos of the snw and explained how deep it was, now 12 feet had falled in ten days. He would not listen. Maybe it was that that upset him and turned hm against me. Anyway, he killed my career by average grades and I had just over three years left in.

I would return to NH two more times, the second for three weeks during my terminal leave from the RAF, before flying over to Seattle. NH in the summer is something else, thank goodness for air conditioning is all I can say.

Inbetween, there was a kind of falling out, and I did not stay with her one autumn, instead staying in a small fishing village in Massachusetts called Rockport.

Before then, I took an offer of Mum's penpal to visit Arkansas.

I had no idea about Arkansas other than from Whacky Races and Achy Breaky Heart. I had no idea what to expect.

I flew into Oaklahoma via Chicago, and Linda's son and his wife picked me up to drive me the three hours back to Ozark.

What I saw was interstate. Just the one. And millions of trees. Gazillions.

Arkansas was towns and villages among trees. But over the fields was the Arkansas river, a tributry of the Mississippi, and nearly half a mile wide.

We did, one Sunday, take the Chevy to the Levee and drove along the embankment, drinking beer from the coolbox. Against the law, but we drve back through fields to avoid the police. I survived.

I got even better service at the Walmart there, they have very few Brits in Ozark, Arnasas I guess. But they had me. Several times.

I struck up a really good friendship with Jason and Cheryl, so went to stay with them two more times, including in 2005 at the end of my terminal leave holiday, when I flew in from LA, then we flew to Vegas for three days of proper partying.

Arkansas is home to the hillbilly. The high school football team at the Ozark Hillbillies. Jason delivered propane, and I went out with him loads of times on his delivery truck, meeting people who really did live off grid, one man met us weating red long johns with a flap at the back. I really should have taken more photos of those trips.

Especially of those who lived in the woods, up the dirt tracks in the hills.

Ozark had been the home, that first year, of the first series of The Simple Life, some reality TV show. I had no idea who Paris Hilton was, but it was big news in the town, of course, and for a while Ozark was on the map, until Ms Hilton got a bad name, and the town sign, "The home of The Simple Life" was removed.

I was taken up into the hills, and from a place called White Rock the only thing man made was the logging track we drve up, snaking through the trees in the valley below. The state's name, The Natural State, is well earned.

What happened after my last vist is too sad to recount here, showing that not all sotories have a happy ending. I won't be going back to Arkansas anytime soon.

Rockport was a different matter. I flew out of Feyatteville to Boston, drove up to Rockport to fid it a dry county, meaning that no bars or restaurants could serve alchohol. I would have to drive to Gloucester, the next town along, to buy six packs.

But it is a picturesque town, out of season, I walked from the hotel down to the harbour at sunset, it was warm enough not to wear a coat, and I remember woodsmoke hung in the air, it was glorious.

I had clam chowder on the pier, and watched the post-season baseball game on TV as the Red Sox played the Yankees, and there was much excitement as the two bullpens and benches ended up having a huge fight. The whole restaurant stopped to watch the fight.

The pier at Rockport is called Beaskin Neck, because of an old legend. And why not? It also has a net store, painted red, and hung with floats and clled "motiff #1", as it is supposed to be the first hostorial building on the east coast. Or something.

I revisited many of the places I had before, this time in hig Fall, when the colours were perfect. I caught the train into Boston, twice, to walk round the city, something I would do with Jools only a couple of years ago.

I chose Rockport because it was at the end of the commuter rail line from Boston, so I went into the city two days to look around and take shots. Something, again, Jools and I did two years back.

Boston in the post season when the Red Sox were playing the Yankees was wild. I thought we in the UK with soccer had a monopoly on being passionate about sports. Boston went mad, there were cars covered on cars and trucks, and the bars were packed. Boston pulled back from 3-0 or something, to draw level 3-3, so went to a 7th game, and I took a taxi to Gloucester to watch the decider in a bar with actual beer. Red Sox lost and the night fell flat, but they got revenge the following season.

And on the last night, I went to the swankiest restaurant to have dinner. I'm not a keen seafood eater, but they told me fried clam was wonderful, so I had that. And sometime in the wee small hours I got very, very ill. The next morning, when I checked out the hotel owner said that out of season sometimes restaurants leave stock for a second night, and the clam was probably bad.

Something was bad, and I had 12 hours to kill before my flight. I ended up wandering around Salem, which was decked out like some kind of Disney-inspired halloween theme park. It wasn't too crowded that time, but when Jools and I went through two years back, you could not get near the town centre due to crowds. I'm sure the witches, or those assued of being witches would be pleased to know their suffering sells so much tat in the 21st cenury.

And that was that.

La I flew back after two weeks, on time.

All things must pass.

A year ago, Mum passed away.

A lot has happened in that year, mostly COVID, and had her heart not failed then almost certainly COVID would have.

Jools was with her when she went, and her friends were able to attend the cremation.

That would not have happened this year.

In terms of sorting the details, things could not have gone much better. The house was cleared in three days, and all the admin done too.

We had the cremation, and interred her ashed in November.

I appointed a solicitor to look after the details, but much of it was done when I registered her death, a service called tell us once informed all utilities of the situation.

And then it was just wainting.

Probate was granted just as the lockdown ended, so we were able to put her house on the market the first week that house sales restarted.

It sold in three days, to someone without a chain.

That went through.

A few weeks later we got some of the money to pay off the mortgage. Anything else will be a huge bonus.

Had Mum not taken out her lifetime mortgage, there would have been tens of thousands more, but I am not greedy. But I do wish that she had spent that seventy grand on something else other than catalgue shopping. All what she bought went to charity of for landfill.

I wrote this on FB this morning:

"Its all good to be honest. There wasn't that much to process with Mum, the person I knew left twenty years ago, what was left was a husk of that person. I think getting the house cleared rather than clearing it myself helped, not to linger over every item I cam across. Saying that, much that should have been saved went for landfill, but as I don't know what that was, I don't miss it. I am sad for the chances she lost in her twilight years, choosing to turn her home into a prison. I am fine, we are fine, today is just another Saturday. And our home has cats and kittens."

In short, I am fine about it. Really. Life is a wonder, and despite the pandemic, it has been a good year for us.

We have been able to share some of our windfall: we lent Jools' sister some money via a bank loan, as we could get lower interest than she ever could. We let friends who the Government have shat on have our old car, as we had paid for it, and we got the new one. And we donated money to an independent bookshop in London so they could supply books to inner city schools.

On top of that, we have tipped well: hairdressers, car washers, window cleaners, butchers. And so on. We have done OK, others have had a right shitty time.

Life is short. We can't take it with us.

I send you all love.

The new scandal

It seems the "new" testing-cum-track and trace app that was launched this week is only compatible with the tests offered by third party companies, and not the actual NHS tests that the logo it has would suggest.

Whether this is because the Cabinet Office (Cummings) is centralising data collection of all those using the app, or it is something else. I have seen it suggested on Twitter that some users are seeing unusual uploading activty on their phones.

The app itself is not compatible with Apple or Android phones more that 5 years old. I have no provate mobile and my work one cannot download apps as I cannot input an e mail to link downloaded apps to.

Yesterday, over 6,800 new cases were confirmed, and by MOnday morning a quarter of the UK will be subjected to restrictions of one kind or another. For two nights, camera phone footage from Leicester Square show thousands of people milling around just after 22:00 once pubs and restaurants had closed, making a mockery of the Government-imposed curfew.

The desire to lockdown as late as possible is showing the lessons from March have not been learned, when such a delay caused 20,000 deaths. COVID deaths lag some weeks behind the infections; this will get worse.

The Government insisted that students fhould go back to college and university, with the result at Leeds University this weekend, thousands are locked down in their digs.

Another mindblowingly bad policy from the Government with a truckload of them.

Friday 25th September 2020

Three months to Christmas.

And economic Brexit.

That cheers the ehart no end.

So, this was the last day of normal. Or what has come to be normal; me working from home and Jools being on Furlough.

Better make the most of it.

Jools is up at five as she has a yoga class at half six, so she is up and working away, clearing up and feeding the cats.

And making me a coffee, ready for when I drag myself out of bed, and she was out the door to the car to drive to the yoga studio.

I laze around, looking on line before making breakfast for when Jools comes home, but finishing mine as I had four hours of online meetings to look forward to.

Lucky me.

There is the early mornign meeting; more news on the upcoming improvements. News in that folks can't agree on what needs improving first.

Seems legit.

And then there is the scheduled, rather than unscheduled, auditors meeting, where we talk about audits some more.

Jools comes back, has breakfast, then heads out to Tesco, while I listen on to the audit talk.

Sigh.

I am in my next meeting when Jools comes back home, laden with the week's shop and a month's cat food.

Once I am done with meetings, I help put the stuff away, then make ham rolls for lunch, along with fresh brews.

And then I am especially blessed as a short notice meeting, about audits, was arranged for midday.

We talk about the audits next week in Hampshire, and as I had finally got round to cancelling everyone's hotel reservations that morning, that the other auditor wanted to go was rather a moot point.

But with that sorted, the day went very quiet as colleagues in DK went on an early stack for the weekend. There was no Le Tour for me to watch, of course, but I do finish at three, make us a brew and open a small box of Swiss choclates to go with the fresh coffee.

And that was the working week.

I put on four 80s electropop and electronic twelve inch compilation CDs, that took us from the middle of the afternoon to the cusp of Monty.

In the meantime I cook Tex-Mex ribs, though cheating and bought that from Tesco, but the rest is all my own work, including fonant potatoes, which is a work in progress, but Jools loved them.

We have a bottle of non-sparking fizz, which went down well.

And then there was Monty, and then bed. And then the weekend.

Thursday 24th September 2020

At 12:00 midday, the Chancellor announced that the furlough scheme was coming to an end.

Less than two hours later Jools had a call saying she was being offered the chance to go back to work, on the shop floor as a machine operator, working 12 hour shift 4 nights a week.

She accepted, so from Monday we will have a new life: me working days, Jools working nights. My dinner will be her breakfast, and my breakfast her supper. We might have three hours together.

We have no idea how long this is for, or with Brexit coming up in just over three months what happens then, if we get that far.

But for the time being we have this new normal, the opposite it was back in 2009 when I worked nights at the box factory, and Jools worked days. I drove home in the morning when we talked for half an hour until she went to work at the same place.

At least I have no commute, and next week, no trip to Hampshire or the Isle of Wigt to take me from home. And that is how it might be until Christmas or beyond. There is the chance of trips to Seaton and Invergordon, and these might well happen, but will be done when safe to do so, and travelling in the case of Invergordon in a 13 hours drive in one day.

So we will see what the new week brings, but before then we have five days together.

Which is nice.

Thursday is, well, Thursday. Bin day.

And that is about it. And work.

With the warm weather a thing of the previous week, and waves of cloud and rain sweeping in from the west, there was very little chance to take something new for the shot of the day.

That I have kept the shot of the day through the lockkdown and summer, and now as we are poised to be locked down once again, limited as to who and how many people we can and can't meet, the subjects might get a bit repetitive.

But we shall see.

Another day goes by and I don't go on the new cross tainer. I know I should, and I say I will start on Monday. There is no excuse, really.

But still I laze around the house once Jools has gone for a walk. I make breakfast as I listen to a podcast, prepare the coffee.

The usual

There isn't much to report of the morning; work for me, and chores for Jools.

I am in a three hour meeting about audits when Jools makes me marmalade on toast and a brew before she goes out to Thanet on a plant hunt. It was while she was out that she got the call from work about the night shift job.

Not much more to say, really.

She returns home just before one and over the Channel, over Cap Gris Nez, in fact, a thunderstorm rumbles, turning the sky to the south black as night, while in the foreground the low sun lights up the garden.

It is the way.

I have to be honest, my friends, the world is a grim place right now, I see not much to give us hope of better days ahead, either here in UK or in the US where a similar kind of madness stalks the streets, though theirs is dressed in faux camoflague gear and armed with automatic weapons. I dispair of common sense and grown ups taking charge, instead I see years more chaos, our rights stripped, and just surviving.

Some people's lives matter more, and for others there is no way they can protest without rattling the trumpflakes.

I fear there are much darker days ahead.

Jools does some gardening, I finish work for the day and cook dinner; courgette fritters and fresh corn smothered with pepper.

It was rather spendid.

In fact we were so ahead of the daily chores, that by the time it began to get dark at half six, I was up to date. So I went upstairs to read the David Hepworth book for three or so hours, marvelling at the world of the late 50s and early 60s, and four moptop posters from Liverpool took the world by storm.

And changed music. And the world.

But no one thought they would make it. Or when they did, it would last.

The end of Furlough

Yesterday,The Chancellor announced the end of the Furlough scheme which had paid 80% of many people's salaries for the last 6 months.

There is a new scheme, but people will have to work at least a third of their normal hours.

Beyond that it gets complicated.

But the Government says it will only support "viable" jobs, meaning only if employers are willing to stump up the cahs do you have a job.

Untold hundreds of thousands of people will lose their job on October 31st, just two months before Brexit, with those companies still going trying to overcome the COVID crisis before looking to Brexit.

The same people who are demanding that people risk life and limb to return to work are also happy that Brexit does far worse damage to the economy and people.

It is madness, no two ways about it.

And the headbangers think its fine, and it seems that the same headbangers of the ERG have formed the Common Sense Group who are detirmed that the restrictions become voluntary, as it seems that wearing a mask is like wearing a muzzle and infringes their freedom to be dicks, while they are perfectly happy to remove the freedom for the rest of us to live in 27 other countries.

It the brazeness of it that gets me.

Meanwhile the infection rate for the 24th September was 6,600 here in the UK, the highest daily rate of new infections the whole pandemic.

Testing is collapsing.

Only a third of those tested get the result back in under 24 hours.

Track and trace still doesn't work, a new version is being rolled out but will only work on phones less than 5 years old. And that's before we get onto the data issues.

Suella Braverman, the Attorney General, made a statement in the Commons yesterday defending the Government's decision to break international law. Breaking internatioanl law by HM Government was, apparently, "entirely lawful". This week's Private Eye suggests Suella Braverman will be asked to resign from the Bar Council. She is, like so many in the Cabinet, a puppet of Cummings and Gove and has brought her profession into disrepute.

She also claims that, "Braverman claims opposition to breaking international (and national law) is unpatriotic". She is the one being unpatriotic. From Magna Carta onwards our governments have been constrained by the rule of law. It is tyrants who put themselves above the law.

Aint that the truth?

All through my life, no matter who was Prime Minister, whichever party was in power, you knew that they would obey the Law.

Although Tony Blair stretched that with the second Gulf War and the legal advice that was or wasn't given.

But if the Government told, generally, the truth.

This week, in The Commons, Michael Gove the Cabinet Secretay, told a bare faced lie which will be in Hansard for ever. That the EU is not ready for Brexit and it will be their fault for border chaos.

This goes againt the internal letter that was leaked this week showing that the UK is, indeed, not ready. That that lack of preparedness is down to the Government and not busness is subject to another lie.

If members of this Government, from the PM down, are willing to lie so easily, and the media, for whatever reason, don't call them out for it: what can we do?

IN these posts I have laid out, sometimes over and over again, the truth, the reality of Brexit and the quite simple, but difficult choices that have to be made. The same lies about "WTO Brexit", GATTT Artice XIV, or alternative arrangements or technological solutions reappear time and time again like a monster at the end of a horror film.

Brexit is based on belief. Always was, and always will. It was once said it was going badly because people did not believe in it enough. MPs, Ministers and now Civil Servants get their jobs if they are believers or not. The fact that they don't know how to do their job, understand how trade or whatever their department does, is irrelevant. They believe, and mostly, follow orders.

This is 1984 made real, the Government has already pulled of the greatest trick, getting people to not believe wwhat they see with their own eyes or hear with their ears. Job losses are large and will only get worse, many companies blame Brexit or Brexit-related issues.

Johnson still uses the "remoaner" attack lines to bludgeon Starmer, or anyone into silence. As if stopping or trying to mitigate the worse of the damage Brexit will casuse is a bad thing.

We have seen over the past four years this and the previous Government, but especially this Government, blame anyone else for their failings, and this will be used when whatever happens in January happens. It is now pretty much unstoppable. I would like to say that common sense means there will be an extension. But we have been relying on common sense and facts since before the referendum. And here we are.

Maybe we have to go through this to find that Brexit really was insanity, and reveal the lies. But it will cause much pain, and the pain will last decades. The country may never fully recover.

But we did warn you.

Wednesday 23rd September 2020

Actual water fell from the sky. Rain they called it.

We live in the south east, which is usually very dry. And we live on chalk downland so any rain drains away.

And we have had very little rain over the summer, our lawn is brown and we have had to water the plants we fawn over.

But the weather changed overnight, clouds rolled over, the wind increased. And rain fell.

Hard.

Which will do the garden well.

We woke up with the rain hammering down in the dark outside. Of course it rained outside, unless we had had a major roof-related problem.

But we didn't.

Anyway, Jools gets up with the alarm, feeds the cats and makes coffee. She is a blessing.

Really.

Would I go for a walk with her before work?

No, apparently.

I know I should have, but I make lame excuses and sit in the house, in warm in my underwear.

I soon get dressed and make breakfast and get the second coffees ready for when Jools returns.

Jools is luncky, she went out when it wasn't raining, and returned just before there was a heavy downpour.

We have breakfast, I set up the office and get going. THer would be no trips to the cliffs to search for butterflies.

We would eat cake. Cookies, in fact.

But not till later.

We had been planning for some time our Brexit stockpile for the beginning of January, and this was the day Jools went shopping. She got three types of flour, pasta, rice, tinned tomatoes, toilet roll, washing up liquid, washing detergent and so on. If you read by Brexit blogs you will understand why.

And yes, we felt a bit flaky engaging in panic buying, but it wasn;'t for this crisis, COVID, but for the next one. And if it doesn't happen, we will have plenty of stock to fall back on.

We have the last of the stinky cheese for lunch, with no wine. We have coffee instead.

And back to work, nose to the grindstone, and mostly it was about next week's trip to Hampshire and the Isle of Wight. Frankly, after Johnson's speech it became clear that staying in hotels for four nights, eating out and travelling on the ferry was just too risky, especially with the accelerating infection rate, which for this day was the worse day for new infections all year. I have to get approval from my old boss, and my new boss, as the task was deemed business critical, but no life is worth less than a job.

Trip was off. I then had to liaise with the factory and the certifying body, writing mails, taking phone calls, smoothing things out.

It felt better not having other people's health on my shoulders to be honest.

Jools had gone to visit Jen. Betty is ill, she is in great pain and the nurcse comes twice a day to administer morphine, and the carers come four times a day to attend to her. Betty aches all over, she shouts for Jen most of the day and night.

I put on a CD to put the new speakers through their paces. I play Shawn Colvin, one of the CDs from Left of the Dial, as I wanted to hear the version of Uncertain Smile without Jools Holland going all pianoy over it. We play the rest of the CD, its a fine mix of UK and US and Australian alternative music, rounds off with The Pogues and Billy Bragg.

Two more CDS go on: 80s electropop dancey remixes.

Wonderful.

We have pork pie salad for tea.

In an ironic kind of way.

And there was music all evening, until half eight, where I went to bed to read the new David Hepworth book. Rain fell outside in gusty winds.

Kexit

Kexit is Kent leaving England/Britain/UK.

(see previous post)

Why is Kent going to be partitioned from the rest of England and Britain?

Well, it is due to a failure of Government, Vote Leave who is now Government and Government policies in ignoring reality.

First of all, when the then PM, Theresa May, announced that the UK was going to leave the EU’s SM and CU, this meant there was going to be a border. A regulatory border and a hard one at that. The only question was where that border would be.

For most of Great Britain that would be 12 nautical miles from the coast, with the main part being down the English Chanel and the North Sea, that would be the case with anything other than full equivalence on both sides of the border. For Ireland, for NI, it was a case of if the border went down the Irish Sea or along the border between Eire and NI.

This has been known for four years.

Ever since it was decided to leave the SM and CU.

That May and then Johnson tried to make out that there could be no changes as to the way cross-border trade operates now and post economic Brexit.

This was denying reality, of course.

But acceptance, especially after Johnson got his WA and WAB agreed and ratified. But he still denied things would change.

And then came plans for 50,000 customs agents. Lorry parks in Kent and other parts of the UK, Operation Brock, customs infrastructure in NI, and the development of computer systems and apps.

But all woefully too late, letting years of potential preparation time slip through their fingers to maintain the pretence that nothing was going to change, when it always would.

Now there are real warnings of two day queues of trucks leading into Dover, so some kind of pre-testing needs to be done, and will have to be done by hand as the computer systems don’t yet exist.

So, checks on paperwork to get into Kent, and another one to get past Ashford.

And the checks will be for customs. For compliance with standards. And rules of origin checks. And each one for every consignment.

A lorry with 150 consignments will need 450 pieces of paperwork checked; manually or digitally.

And before then, they will have to be created. By the consignor. Who will need an army of people generating paperwork that is not currently needed because we are in the SM and CU.

This is the opposite of no change and frictionless trade.

As it was always going to be, of course.

We told them.

Experts told them.

Project fear, they said.

And yet here we are, Kent partitioned from the rest of England, rest of Britain, at least for goods. Because even for deliveries to Kent will need a process and paperwork exempting them from all of the above.

All could have been avoided if the UK Government had prepared. Been honest.

But if they would have been honest, there would have been no Brexit.

Why stop at two

It seems that having one internal border in the UK isn't enough for the Vote Leave Brexity Government, as there is going to be a second, and that or might not surprise you.

It is Kent.

Yes, the very county, the Garden of England, that undefeated county nearest to La Belle France.

As previously reported in these posts, trucks and lorries will ned Kent Entry Permeits (KEPs) to enter the county and so approach Dover or the Tunnel.

The trucks and lorries will only get a KEP if their papers are in order and enabling them to cross the Channel.

Police will patrol te minor roads into the county.

Although it had been announced, it wasn't widely know. But Gove said this in the Commons today.

You would have thought that those lifelong Brexiteers and headbangers would have identified all these issues and come up with workrounds, mitigations or something, rather than blunder on blaming their failings on others.

But its got them where they are today, I suppose, so why change?

The M20 has been reduced to two lanes in each direction, in a contraflow, while the coastbound carriageway is turned into a luxurious lorry park for January, and the freight handling lorry park us under construction in Ashford, with work to begin on four more Kentish sites in the forthcoming months.

Meanwhile, the company the last Transport Minister, Chris "Failing" Greling contracted to operate ferries out of Ramsgate fot £15 million, has gone bust with debts of two million. They never owned or rented a ferry, let alone one that could use the narrow berths at Ramsgate.

Still, all under control.....

I realised the point of the tintle is that there are ports in Sussex, Hampshire, Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk, Humberside, Tyneside, Anglesey, Merseyside and Scotland: will they need border controls and borders for freight entering the county?

What about freight heading into Kent for local deliveries, how will that work>

Tuesday 22nd September 2020

At 14:30 it was the Autumn Equinox.

Darkness rules from now on.

Well, for three months.

But not only was it the equinox, but it was the last day of summer, in that it was hot and sunny. Or as hot as a late September day can be.

The sun rose in a haze of mist, red and angry looking as it has done every day this week. It is good just to watch the day creep over the land, and once the sun is up, the long shadows shorten and get darker.

Jools went for a walk, there are no more raspberries to harvest, so we have to make do with ones from Tesco. And with strawberries.

And then there is coffee. Strong, sweet coffee.

Changes are afoot, and there is talk of the morning meetings being scrapped, in fact I thought they had. But I was wrong, I log on at twenty to eight and the meeting had already begun. My colleagues kindly switch from Dansih to English when they see I join the meeting.

Very nice of them.

I have worked out how to change the backgrounds of Teams calls, and my new background is of the Simpson's living room. This causes much laughing.

I'm here all week.

Anyway, to work, and it seems the kings of chaos are abroad again, and I alnone wield the sword of truth, and so it it I, Prince Jelltex who has to slay the dragon of lies. Or business as usual, then.

We have cheese and dried bread for lunch. No wine.

And after the long dark afternoon of the soul, there is just time to head to Kingsdown to look for the Long Tailed Blues. Again.

And the National trust are up there attempting to get rid of the rare butterfly's food plant as it, both the butterfly and plant (everlasting pea) are not native. I explain to the workment about the rare butterfly, and they listen whilst sharpening their pea-hacking knives.

Sigh.

I see now LTBs, asdaly. And appearance could have saved them and their habitat. But they were elsewhere.

Also going on was the Government keeping a watch on theose dastardly migrants crossing the Channel. Some had a radio comms van and equipment behind the gold course clubhouse, while on the beach, three black mariahs wait in case the desperate get as far as landing. It is a quiet afternoon, and we all enjoy the sun.

I see no LTB, so walk back to the car and drive back home.

It was tea time, apparently.

So we have breaded chicken, stir fry and chips, as we had cleaned the fryer of a decade of grease and grime, filled it with new oil.

The chips were wonderful.

Not as good as the stir fry, and not as good as the chicken.

And half a pint of tripel. Which was nice.

Very nice.

Darkness comes quickly and early now. Getting dark by six, and dark by seven.

We have coffee, watch a recording of Gardener's World and the first of a new series of Only Connect.

Some things are still good and reliable.

We told you....

The Guardian published a leaked report from the pen of one Michael Gove on the upcoming chaos at Dover next January.

The “reasonable worse case scenario” is that there will be 7000 trucks and lorries a day queuing, with delays of two days. And this is at least for three months.

But this is not the Government’s fault for not preparing.

It is the hauliers fault for not preparing. Though there is little to prepare with, as the computer systems needed to get the “permit” to get into Kent, and freight clearance to proceed to Dover or the Tunnel are still in consultation, not actually being written yet.

And it is the EU’s fault for not being prepared.

Quite how Gove works this one out is beyond me. They have lorry parks, they have working IT systems.

Also the imposition of the UK having 3rd country status is as a result of international law and WTO rules, not about punishment or anything else. If the EU failed to do this, or the UK for that matter to the EU, then it would be breaking the WTO’s “Most Favoured Nation” regulations and lay the guilty country open to action under WTO rules.

Any country, must treat all other third countries the same. It is really that simple.

I heard it said that this week is when the UK Government realised there are two sides to a border.

The EU has every right to protect it’s SM and CU, and will do so by imposing rules, regulations and checks it feels it needs. Otherwise it undermines itself and the US’ businesses. No matter how much trade the EU loses with the UK, sacrificing the SW and CU would cost more. The German motor industry and Italian Prosecco makers will not ride into town at the last minute to stop this madness.

What was being labelled as “project fear” until a few months ago is now recognised by the Vote Leave Government, its just the buck they are trying to pass.

And Bloomberg also reports: “JPMorgan is moving about 200 billion euros ($230 billion) from the U.K. to Frankfurt as a result of Brexit, a shift that will make it one of the largest banks in Germany”. Something Vote Leave and Michael Gove said would not happen.

Twats

The Government, locked the country down for the first tme on March 23rd. Two weeks too late, so that 20,000 extra people died of the virus.

In not imposing a stronger lockdwn, Johnson is making the same mistake.

The logic of closing pubs and bars at then is that people get drunker just before they close, ignoring the fact people will just drink more, earlier and still break social distancing.

The Moonshot program to provide millions of quick and fast tests that the taxpayer is funding to the tune of £100 billion, seems like Johnson has remembered the details now, anyway, people will have to pay for the test, for a disease that affect the poorer most. As taxpayers we have paid once, why should we pay again?

When asked why the UK's Covid infection rate is worse than Germany and Italy he says it's because we're a "freedom loving country". I mean what does that mean; that we love freedom of choice so much we would rather die than follow rules, or that its some kind of wartime reference? Who the fuck knows with this clown.

But the truth of the matter is, that the lockdown time should have been used to build up testing capability. I mean the WHO did tell all countries that they should test, test, test. And once the infections began to drop, a working track and trace system should be in place as society opens up.

The Government have had 6 months to get it working, spaffed millions up the wall on track and trace, shoved millions to SERCO to run testing, and it is a total shambles.

And after encouraging people to drink in pubs, eat in restaurants, go back to work and go back to school, it is your fault, plebs, that the infection rate is rising like a rocket heading to the moon.

No one except the person in charge of contact tracing could have predicted a second wave in infections in the autumn.

But it is all your fault.

Or the EU's.

But not the Government's. They've done a wonderful job, Johnson keeps telling himself that. And us.