Lawnmeadow: June

June is where the promise of spring is fulfilled.

May is all about daisies and dandelions, and inbetween green shoots of the next flowers to emerge, and June is when they explode into life and colour.

After a break of two years thanks to the construction of the path and beds meant that we haven't had much red clover. But 2021 we had clover, and that means next year there'll be even more.

Two patched create a carpet, well more of a rug really. But insects live the tiny flower heads, with each spindle being an indevidual flower.

Kidney Vetch is another favourite of our native pollinators, and one monte there isn't any, next there are hundreds of plants.

Just about everything uses Kidney Vetch as a food and larval plant, but it quickly fades.

The tiny yellow stars of Herb Benet made their debut in the meadow, growing in the shadow of the easterly hedge, another new species for the garden.

And among the much more numerous Bulbous Buttercups, a few spikes of the taller, more slender Meadow Buttercups also arrived for the first time. This one was over two feet high.

Then on June 6th, Jools came running in to announce that she had found an orchid in the back garden. Could it be true?

Yes it could.

At first I thought it was a Common Fragrant, but a fried correctly ID'd it as a Pyramidal.

Still, happy with that.

And as the days and weeks went by, I recorded its progress. This weekend coming it should reach its peak, the pyramid shape turning into a cone.

Last year I bought some Corncockle seeds. Corncockle is a flower that used to florish on the edges of corn fields, but herbicides meant it has all but become extict in the countryside, but I fancied some, so sowed a packet last September, and by the middle of the month, the first flowers were opening.

In the formal beds, we een had some native invaders as a few Stinking Iris appeared and were quite happy there. We let them be for this summer at least.

This was the scene on the 21st as rain hammered down, meaning even more plants and flowers were sure to grow.

More Corncockles opened among the Ox Eyed Daisies.

We have great drifts of Ox Eyes Daisies, many of great heigt, over two feet, and flowers that have last three weeks, and magnets for bees.

Meanwhile, the Corncockle thrived in greater numbers. And two Musk Mallows appeared, doubling the number from last year.

And so July is round the corner, with one final flush of colour before all goes to seed and then it will be time to harvest the hay.

And the cycle will begin again

Tuesday 29th June 2021

In the Pacific North West, temperature records are being broken, while here in east Kent we have had fog, a cool breeze and much rain. Not very June-like at all.

At least on Tuesday the fog had mostly gone, and sometimes the clouds parted and so a shot or ten could be rattled off.

Which made up for the torture that work is, nothing works once again, and I sit looking at the fact Outlook had not updated for over 24 hours. Again.

My colleague, Henrik, told me he had the same problem, and he had the instructions on how to fix it. Apparently, as the two companies IT systems merge, the fact we have two profiles, certificates and so on on one laptop causes just too much confusion. The simple answer was to delete the MVOW Outlook account, then instal the new one.

This did mean having to restart Outlook over and over again until I was able to complete each step of the process, until I had Outlook that wasn't linked to any accounts at all. I had no mails, no calendar and no contacts. Then came the linking the new account, and wait while 11 and a half years mails downloaded.

I made breakfast, another coffee. Read a magazine.

Two hours passed, and the initial actions had taken another hour. Half the day was gone already.

I have lunch and hope I would get my enthusiasm back.

I didn't, but I did attend meetings, took notes and sounded like I knew what I was talking about. Maybe I really do. In which case not sure who it surprises more; my boss or me. In fact my boss seems to rate my experience and the stuff that tumbles out of my mouth must make some kind of sense.

Jools had been up early that morning, and by two I could feel a migraine coming on, so with me all caught up, I log off and sit on the sofa with Le Tour playing quietly on the TV with Scully beside me. She is very happy indeed, and rolls over to show me her belly and shere she would like it rubbed.

The cycling is astonishing, with Mark Cavendish winning a mad spint to win yet another stage, two years after he had been written off.

I'm not crying.

And so, to the main event: England v Germany.

A match with more baggage that an Airbus A380. The jingoism that goes with it, especially from the papers is sickening, and Brexit has ramped that up further. Don't bring politics into football, but I'll sing "No Surrender" or "2 world wars and one world cup" because it bantz.

Urgh.

I don't watch the preamble, but settle down to watch the game as the players line up, take a knee and kick off. Germany make the early running, England get into it, nearly scoring just before half time. But the half ends 0-0.

Neither team are playing that well, so it is an even-matched game, but after 7o minutes, Grealish is brought on as the Germans tire, and Sterling scores one from a cross by Shaw. And just before full time Shaw sets up Kane to head in a second and that's it. No drama at the end.

England won as they had prepared slightly better, took their chances and had depth in the squad. Not one bit of individual briliance settled it, just the slightly better team.

Sure it was a big game, but England have a bigger on on Saturday now in Rome. Germany are going home.

Wow.

Monday 28th June 2021

Is this summer?

We woke up again to thich fog and the mounful lament of the distant foghorn at Dover Harbour. It was thicker than ever, really. Anything beyond the bottom of the garden was out of view, and I new the morning commute would be a nightmare. For others, I just had to slide my seat from on part of the dining room table to the other.

Jools had the tough one, driving to Hythe. She left at ten past six so to catch up on work as its crazy this time of the year anyway, and they have less staff now to do the work. I, however, have the great IT failure to deal with.

After switching the laptop on, I get one e mail, then that's it. Nothing for the rest of the day, and everything else is so unstable as to be useless. I try to restart the laptop over and over again, hoping that the next time it will fix itself.

It doesn't.

And its not like I could go out to do something else, the fog was still thick, and then it started raining too. I took a picture out of the back door because such weather is unheard of here at the end of May. My colleagues in Denmark tell me it is hot and sunny there. Denmark has stolen our weather!

I make breakfast and another coffee and ponder the factt hat they are paying me well to work from home, though unable to do any actual work, but will get paid anyway.

Such is life.

I can take part in Teams meetings, and have a couple, during which I have yet more work to do that I can't do.

I have lunch of about half of the leftover Chinese meal from Friday. I don't feel much like work afterwards, but I review documents and try to fix the inbox.

I don't.

Outside the fig des lift at half four, just to drop down again at five. I try to go out to do some snapping. The flower shots were not up to much, but i did catch a foglet sitting on some pond weed, looking up at the sky.

Shot of the day, then.

There is football from five: Croatia from Spain at five. And was a wonderful game, eight goals over 120 minutes of gametime as it was 3-3 at full time. A howler of an own goal, Croatia scoring twice in the last five minutes, and then Spain winning it with two goals in a couple of minutes into extra time. Then France v Switzerland, another corking game, France leading 5-1 with 15 to go, then another two late goals to take into extra time. The match ended at half ten, went to penalties, and France losing out as Mbappe missing with the tenth and final spot kick before sudden death.

It was sudden death for France, who with him and Pogba are out.

On booze

Or rather, off (the) booze.

I have effectvely been on the wagon since the 2nd April with just two small beers since then; one to celebrate Norwich going up, and one three weeks ago when I thought the drugs should make a flare up of gout unlikely.

I was wrong with the second, so since then, the 4th June, I have not touched a drop.

And here is the odd thing, I don't miss it.

Like many people, I have a long relationship with booze, compounded by 15 years in the RAF. But through that I get easily drunk, am not nasty with it, and prone to find my bed to sleep it all off.

Saying that, drinking with meals was pleasureable, and since the reimposition of lockdown in November, I was drinking more. Helped by the new wine glasses Jen bought that easily can hold over half a bottle.

Most meals demanded wine or beer with them, only a fry up, banger and mash or fish and chips meant a cuppa, everything else was wine or beer.

My first real drink was in 1978, on a holiday in Scotland where children could have a drink with a meal. I was only 13, but my 14th was only a week or two away, so I had a couple of lagers with dinners.

Then, like many, I met Olde English Cider in its one litre bottle version. Someone brought it round to our house when I was allowed to have a party, which was really my male friends headbanging to heavy metal records for three hours. I had some cider, all was well until my parents came home and we were tidying up, and I was staggering down the hall, then rushing to the bathroom.

And so it began.

Drinking at weekend when I went to gigs or later when I turned all smooth and went clubbing, and during the week only having enough money for cans of Royal Dutch lager (2% proof). Drunk enough to be merry, but not too much so to get squiffy.

And then I met Mr Tequila. At a work's dinner dance, someone said why not have chasers with pints? THis never ends well.

This didn't.

Urgh, I still don't drink the stuff.

And then I joined the RAF as an armourer.

Armourers have a reputation, so we tell you, for being hard drinkers.

I drank my share, bought my fair share too, and then ran back to the block to bed.

But I could never, mostly, have more than five pints. And that was rare. I would go out with the intention of drinking until closing time, but soon after the third beer had been quickly supped, I would slow down and get sleepy.

The amount I used to drink, even then, was brought home to me when I attended a reunion in 2015, where us old timers would pretend, for an afternoon and maybe evening, that we could do the things we did when we were in the mob. I saw sense after a couple of hours and wandered off and visited more churches in Lincoln on the way back to the hotel.

The idea of the reunion is far better than the actual experience of it.

I got the taste for whisky, and used to enjoy a wee dram or two in the evenings. But even that faded. Instead really only drinking with meals, then having to try to stay awake afterwards watching the footy or Gardener's World.

And then came gout.

The first week or two was hard.

And then its fine.

And its still fine.

In the end, I would rather be able to go out for a walk, chase orchids or butterflies rather than have a glass of tripel or red plnk with chorizo hash.

Failing the Iron Maiden test

Bruce Dickenson, the onetime lead "singer" in Samson and Iron Maiden, and Brexit voter, was on TV yesterday complaining about the effects his vote and those of others who voted for Brexit was having on the entertainment and arts industries.

This didn't mean he accepted that his vote was partly responsible, just that David Frost should do something about it.

The EU has offered 90 day visa free travel for artists, and other such people, might even extend to all UK citizens, but of course that would mean the UK accepting the same conditions for EU artists and nationals coming here. And that is "not compatible with Brexit", apparently.

Though no one voted for a particular form of Brexit, but this is the form that May and Johnson chose, and are continuing to push, with the effect that it will kill off the creative arts. Not just rock and pop singers, but artists in general, musicians in orchestras, sportsmen and women all because the aim, in the end was to end freedom of movement at any cost, including all of the creative industries.

This is just one area where political dogma is going to affect many lives and livlihoods. In the end, is it worth it? No, not at all, but will political dogma change? in time.

Latest statistics show that support for the EU is growing in teens and twenties, and if that support holds up as they grow older, and the realisation that once again the older parts of society have pulled the ladder up to deny them a benefit, then the backlash may yet come. And the cost of this and Brexit in general will, in time, come to pensions. The triple-lock gold standard pension that readers of the Mail and Express treasure. Money will run out, in the end, even for that.

What if the choice is, and will be, helping the sick, infirm, disabled, poor or unemployed, or they keep their pension?

Many will choose pensions, but this is a social contract, why should the young carry on supporting the old if they have been shat upon for the last 12 years since the Tories came to power? The removal of the benefits of society from the young and healthy lieke the right to work in the EU, benefts, BBC3 and so on while forcing on them a life of debt through further education costs will bring the house of cards down.

Not lead by the science

We have a new Health Minister, friend of business, Sajid Javid.

And yesterday he promised that July 21st the final restrictions would be lifted and not reimposed.

We had to live with COVID.

Meaning those who are not vaccinated will catch it, and have to deal with the short and long term effects.

Data suggests that up to two million people have long term COVID, some kind of long term issue that will impact their lives.

Herd immunity for the young, which is what he is suggesting, will probably mean many more "long COVID" sufferers and the possibility of more mutations forming and a vaccine resistant strain emerge.

The positive signals from Javid contrast to the official fgures that showed a 69.9% increse of infections in the rolling week to week data, with 22,868 infections being recorded in te 24 hours up to four on Monday. HOwever, hospitalisations and deaths are still at low levels.

And yet several EU contries imposed restrictions on those not double vaccinated travelling from the UK, while Hong KOng has banned all flights from the UK.

The UK Government might be optomistic, other countries are not.

I want a end to lock down, but I don't want a further wave even more, and for the good of the nation's health we should be supressing infections, contacts as well as vaccines. But this is Britain: £37 spaffed on track and trace under Dido Harding, and it still doesn't work. But the Mail and Express cheer the GOvernment on, like the UK has had the best outcome gobally.

Sunday 27th June 2021

Quid pro quo.

I was asked for some information regarding orchids, and offered something in return. I would have told him anyway, but still.

I was given a grid reference.

And so on Sunday morning, after coffee and breakfast of fruit, we set off for a new location for orchiding, not sure if it was a wild goose chase or not.

Once we were off the main roads, we came across a scene on a country lane; a woman was trying to herd a sheep. Is herd the right word? Anyway, the sheep, was quite happy eating from the hedgerow, but the woman was trying get the sheep back with its flock in the field. I couldn't get past, so we stopped and we both tried to help.

None of us had a sheepdog, which was a shame.

The sheep was now nervous, and ran back and forth as we tried to block its way. It tried to get back in the field, it had clearly jumped a wooden stile, but wouldn't jump back. It then ran back into the lane and tried to get past me. One way it went, then back the other, each time quicker than I could move until it managed to jump past and ran free into the village, which, the last time we saw it, was grazing a well manicured lawn of some millionaire's mansion.

We drove on.

We parked in a small lay by a few miles on, and there was a clear track leading off onto the downs. I got my camera and we went through the gate, then up the track, going ever upwards. Round a bend, and an amphitheatre opened up, and our way was to one side.

Somewhere here were orchids, and not the CSOs we had seen on the track.

I followed one of the "ledges", and there, happily gorwing was one of the country's rarest plants: a Late Spider Orchid. A new site, and one of the least known, I only heard of it myself the day before.

I searched some more and found several more plants at the same level, and more in the ledges above. Most were clearly Late Spiders; right shape, right pattern and with the upturned lip.

I searched more up the down, and to one side, I found a new species: Bee. A close relative, but different.

A lot more Bee in fact.

What I was looking for was the hybrid between the two. It is the last week in June, very late for Ophrys, and only because the season has been so late and cold there was anything to see at all. And then, at the very last, a faded spike, with a lip shape, similar, but different. Was this what I cad come to find?

Probably.

I took lots of shots, with and without flash, then as the mist closed in and rain began to fall, we beat a retreat back down the down to the car, and as the rain got heavier, we drove back down to the main road and home.

By the time we got home the rain was falling steadily, and really did not stop until dusk. A good steady rainfall that gardeners love and will do the garden good as well as filling up the water butts.

There would be no more going out that day, no gardening, just listen to music, write, have lunch and get ready for the next pair of games in the Euros.

Holland v the Czech Republic; you'd think Holland would walk it, but they struggled, then had a player sent off, and the bouncing Czechs pounced, scoring one from a corner, then another on a break away to win 2-0 and send the Dutch home.

Later, Belgium played Portugal, really the tie of the round, but with so much resting on the game, it wasn't good as football, was was compelling. Portugal were physical, overly so, really, but Belgium scored the only goal just before half time, and held on.

That was ten in the evening, the house was in darkness and outside therewas thick sea fog once again

Hancock: gone

The Health Secretary, now former Heath Secretary, fell on his own (pork) sword yesterday, resigning after there was a deafening silence from his once fellow Cabinet Minsters.

He resigned not because of the 20,000 lives lost when hospitals were emptied back in March last year, untested and sent into the petri dishes that were care homes. Absolute carnage raged, thousands upon thousands died.

Nor has he resigned for his part in the PPE scandal, which was brought out because of the dire shortage at the start of the pandemic causing nurses and other staff to wear bin liners and reuse masks. Hundreds of staff died as a result.

He had to partly resign becasue at the time when he was calling for the public to make sacrifices, not meet family or friends, attend marriages, funerals or be able to say one last farwell to a dying loved one. Matt Hancock was kissing his mistriss, in Whitehall.

The interesting this is that someone else in Government had installed a camera in the Health Ministry, and pictures from that were used to skewer Hancock. Who put in the camera, and who leaked the images and film and what is their ulterior motive?

All played out as tens of thousands of people died, and Hancock and other Ministers were enriching their friends.

A story published today in the Sunday Times suggests that Hancock, but other Government Ministers too, used private e mails so to hide information from the Civil Service and other departments, and so to help cover up any potential inquiry.

Was he sacrificed to drown that story out?

Saturday 26th June 2021

The weekend.

I have been pondering on how to recount this tale without revealing the location.

Well, here goes.

Last year southern European Orchid was found in the UK for the first time, in East Kent no less. But the location was kept very quiet. It's reporting began in the 2020 BSBI reports for the two Kent vice-counties (eat and west). Needless to say, people asked and asked, but the location was kept secret. I received a couple of enquiries earlier this year, but I knew nothing, and talking with people better placed and I said the county recorders were not telling.

So far, so dull.

And then early this week pictures began to appear of the orchid in question. It seems that a small group of people had shared the knowledge and were going to snap it.

No one told me.

I called in a couple of half-favours, and I was told the grid reference. I did wonder wether to go Friday evening, but though better of it, and waited to Saturday for a day out taking in this orchid.

So it was that we woke up just gone six to find the shouse and whole village shrouded in fog. Most un-June like to be sure. Should be delay the trip out? I had restless feet, so we leaft home after coffee at half seven, with the fog having cleared and the sun shone from a clear blue sky.

That didn't last, and north of Ashford on the motorway I could see clouds beginning to gather, then the fog swept in, so by the time we reached the area of the orchids, it was bright, but no sun to be seen.

I pulled over to the side of the road, and after getting out of the car, I could see over the fence where there were two Tongue Orchids showing very well, rising above the other vegetation. Some who had arrived already had climbed the fence and flattend other vegetation including orchids in a five foot arc of about 60 degrees; so much destruction to snap two spikes growing next to the fence.

Leaning through I got good enough shots, not needing the 400mm lens i have brought, the macro giving good enough results.

Another car arrived behind us. Three guys got out and we exchanged nods, and they knew that we knew. We made small talk, they were down from Ipswich, they had the information.

A third car arrived, and had to park on the other side, a guy and his girlfriend got out knowing what was here too.

Sigh.

We had a quick breakfast of half a slice of cold cornbread, then drove off back towards the coast for some better know orchids: Musks.

Better known but hard to find.

For some.

The mist cleard, and I think had we stayed another few minutes the shots would have been better, but I was happy with what I had got.

Up Stone Street, then along narrow lanes that wound through dense woodlands, up and down through valleys and over the top of wooded downs, until coming out at the woodland drive leading to Park Gate. We park in the lay by, and Jools went for a walk, while I went into the reserve.

Visiting here through the season means witnessing how much it changes with each passing week. Now with the Monkey having all gone to seed, there are carpets of CSO and Common Fragrants among the long summer grass. Very little evedence of the main season orchids, with the exception of the single Lady that was now turning brown having set seed, and the single arge Greater Butterfly spike at the back of the reserve.

But I knew where to go, into the third paddock, up the right path, and about 50 yards on there was a trampled area, and in a cross made of dried cow poo were seven tiny spikes. I have trained my minions well.

I get the shots I want and wander on looking at the large colony of CSO to see if there were any pure white spikes.

I was being observed by a guy crouching down behind a bush, as I walked back towards the gate he started to follow me too. Athough I had snapped the Musks, I was looking for more, as years back there used to be a fair number of spikes, the path he was following was getting nearer to me, until he got within speaking gange.

He spoke:

Have you seen anything interesting?

Oh yes, lots.

Have you seen any Musk, I've been looking ages.

I saw a good half dozen spikes not 20m from where you're standing I said. I'll show you.

So, we walk along the track, past the faded Lady and to the next trampled area, and in the corner there was the dried cow poo and in the middle: orchids!

I looked there he explaimed, noticed the placing of the dung and failed to see the orchids!

He was rather pleased, as was the young couple who walked over. The chap, a body builder by the looks of it, looked at me sheepily and asked "Musk Orchid?" Jools had sent him over.

So I pointed to the first guy and said when he's done, they're there.

I walk back to the car where Jools was waiting, knowing that i was late because of people and talking to them.

In a change of plan we go to Western Heights in Dover so I could hunt for Small Blue butterflies and also snap some of dozens of CSOs there.

All around the car park is trash for people having late night fast food or a beer or seven. Although the car park is grim, it looks down on Dover and the Priory Station, and to the left the houses spread along Old Folkestone Road. Just up the bank is a large grassed area, full of orchid spikes. On the other side of the road, up the bank leading to the old Commandant's House there are even more, but these are easier to snap.

And inbetween I see the tiny blue butterflies. I manage to snap a couple, so achieve my goal. I collect some rubbish from between the orchids, then walk back to meet up with Jools to drive back home. Via Martin.

A report in last year's BSBI report listed the hyrid between the Lesser and Greater Butterfly Orchid had been recorded less than two miles from Chaz Jelltex. I had hunted at the end of May, but now they should be easier to find, if I was in the right place.

The wood seemed to be too small and the groud covered by a thick carpet of ivy, so we looked in three field margins, but not one orchid was found. Running out of time this season though, one to research for next year perhaps?

We drive home to have lunch and a brew.

I review my shots while we eat and listen to the radio.

Jools went out to have a haircut and get the month's cat food, so the afternoon slipped by.

At five all work stopped as the football kicked off; the beginning of the knock out phase. And first up Wales v Denmark.

And a good game that Denmark grew into, taking the lead before half time, then powering to vicotry in the 2nd. 4-0 was harsh on Wales, but Denmark were ruthless, and derved to go through.

Jools went to pick up a chinese, so we munch that during half time, wih enough left over for me to ave for lunch during the week at least one day.

In the evening it was Italy v Austria, which was a close game with Italy getting two goals into the 30 minutes of extra time, meaning that I did not get to bed until eleven, and I missed the dramtic first day in Le Tour where there were two huge crashes.

And Monday Wimbledon starts too. How are we to keep up?

Friday 25th June 2021

Six months from/to Christmas.

Get those sprouts on!

And apart from spending the day trying not to imagine what Matt Hancock's orgasm face was like, it was a pretty good day.

Jools was up before five, doing stuff, while I laid around until twenty five to six. She had a yoga class to go to, and just had to be in work at seven. Or logged on. You know.

So, she was again, a blur of action until she left at just after ten past six.

And here i am, no me tod.

Jools was to do yoga, then go swimming before coming back to be here when the doctor rang with her blood test results, which the receptionist told her were in. I mention this because when he did call, the doctor had no idea why he was ringing. All is good for Jools.

Meanwhile I logged on at work, there was an update to Windows, that installed and everything worked. Including Outlook which seemed to delight in the two day's mail I had to sort through. It keeps me off the streets.

There is the weekely COVID meeting where we share the news from where we live: me in England, half the team in Denmark, another half in India, one lady in Italy and another in Taiwan. Its mostly good news, except from jollie olde Englande where I tell them the beginnings of a third wave are being felt, with the final unlocking delayed four weeks.

But relaxing has been happening all over. At least in India vaccinations are now reaching those of working age, and are now free.

We have a team meeting to say goodbye to an old colleague, Flemming, who is leaving us to join a rival. The old team gets ever smaller.

Sadly.

Jools goes to Tesco, I stay and have a meeting. Two meetings with my boss, and with some bombshell news ringing in my ear, it is two in the afternoon and I believe the weekend should have started. Bombshell news not affecting me or us, I stress.

And that is it.

Jools had bought ice creams, so we have a peanut butter magnum sitting in the back garden now that the rain had stopped, though it was cold.

I put the radio on, Steve Lamaqc had started; it was the weekend.

And no football today either.

Sigh.

I make cornbread to go with the insalata for dinner. I added som Cardumon seeds to pep it up a bit, and it worked.

We listen to more radio, I take part in the music quiz; no luck this time, and then watch Gardener's World before going to bed at nine.

Phew.

Thursday 24th June 2021

Thursday.

Day two of the great IT clusterfuck, and I log on and find that nothing is working. Not Outlook, not Teams, not having access to my department's folders. Maybe they just fired my ass and failed to tell me?

Jools has been told that she has been working too many hours, and that obs aren't getting done. So, should she work less or work more?

Moden life's troubles.

It was to be a glorious day; lots of sunshine, light winds, although it was to turn cooler and cloudy later with rain overnight. It turned out there was just one cloud on the horizon; no football until Saturday!

How is this possible? We have had football almost every day for a year, and now we are supposed to last two who days without people falling over for no reason? How will we cope?

I don't know how I had the strength to go on to be honest, but I do.

I have breakfast and then a meeting with the ever-shrinking band of colleagues from the old company. We have a collective moaning session, it doesn't change anything, but helps saying stuff and swearing.

I restart the computer a number or times, nothing works.

So, at ten I went for a walk.

Not far, just along over the fields, heading down the diagonal path to check on the poppy field I had been told about, only to find out it had been harvested.

Too late, the hero.

Elsewhere fields were full of a mix of old crops and wildflowers, including huge amounts of Pineappleweed and Field Pansy.

I snap them all.

Back on the path I find several groups of Fumitories; not sure if they're the rare Dense Flowered or Common Ramping species. I will try to find out, though easily missed.

The butterfly glade is now so overgrown wth brambles and teasles that there is no entering it, which means that the butterflies will go unchased, which is fine, but it will soon turn to woodland and be lost.

So it goes, so it goes.

I walk up to Windy Ridge, down past the farm which is all a sea of mud thanks to the unseasonal rain we have had this spring. And no sign of it drying up really. Normally by now the chalk and mud had dried to be as hard a concrete, but not this year. So plants and flowers are thriving.

Up at Windy Ridge I snap a Meadow Brown and Holly Blue, both just paused to bask, though both flew off after I rattled of a couple of shots. Though on the way down back home I came across a Small Tortoiseshell feeding on a spear thistle, too hungry to be bothered by me. I took dozens of shots.

Back home, restart the laptop, and nothing works still.

I have my phone, so if there are urgent matters, I can be contacted.

I have lunch.

And then settle down after restarting the laptop again. I try to open a mail and Outlook freezes for the nth time that day.

And outside the sunshine wanes, a breeze builds and it gets chilly.

By six it was trying to rain, and felt like March again. I cook breaded aubergine dor dinner, being the Cgairman of the Aubergine Marketing Board, I have keep up appearances don'tcha know?

And after clearing up, we listen to the wireless, have a coffee, and relax, and with no football, I could go to bed at the sensible time of nine, with it still being almost fully light outside.

Orchidiots

I like an orchid or two, and on that I cannot lie.

I try to keep the mania within the boundaries of Kent, where possible. And try to pass on the knowldge and passion to others, mainly in my FB group, but sometimes to those I meet out "in the field".

But, the orchid world is competitive, and some want to be top dogs.

I first saw it when two friends, who both knew more than I about orchids and other plants, so who have so much in common and yet hated each other. And still do.

Who knew most, or if one made a mistake was mocked by the other.

I liked both, to be honest, and let them get on with it.

And then one demanded, demanded, I tell them the site of a reserve in Norfolk that I once visited, and how to get there. I did what I could, but that wasn't enough, so I tried to explain, but apparently I owed them.

I failed to respond to further mails, defriended them on social media sites, so they now post shots of plants claimed to have been seen in the county in the hope I will ask them. I'm guessing that's the reason, but who knows and cares, to be honest.

And then, on a related matter, though different people:

Last year a new species was found in the county, it was reported, but no one was sharing the location. News was that it was beside a motorway, and the only person who seemed to know for sure was the county recorder, who wasn't telling anyone, not even the BSBI.

And then on Tuesday, shots of it appeared on various social media. A fine looking orchid, but conditions were made of being shared the location that certain well-known people in the orchid field could not be told.

So sad, so childish.

And then one of them tried to post shots in my group.

All this leaves a sour taste in the mouth, that people I have helped in the past would actively stop each other from knowing locations of a rare orchid to show they know more.

In the end, is it worth it?

Tory "corruption made flesh" by the Health Secretary.

Health Secretary, Matt Hancock, featured on the front page of The Sun, in a clinch with his female advsor.

Who was his best friend nd universtity.

Who he employed as advsor at a cost to the public purse of £150,000 per annum.

This is the main reason for demanding he resign.

That he broke COVID regulations in meeting and kissing is secondary.

That his poor family found out on the newsstands this morning is a family tragedy. Johnson, who gets to decide f the "Ministerial Code" has been broken, a man, let us not forget, who won't say exactly how many children he has fathered. Who cheated on his cancer stricken wife, and then cheated on his wife and mistress with an "IT advisor" and provided her with over £100k of public funds. Johnson has full faith in Hancock.

A chip off the block, I'd say.

Which raises the question, what would a Minister have to do be be forced to resign or be sacked?

And the answer is , of course, nothing.

If the PM can get away with it, so can his Cabinet. Shagging, lying, corruption, bullying; all fine and not in breach of the code, apparently.

Welcome to the new Camelot.

Wednesday 23rd June 2021

Welcome to Wednesday.

Not much to report today.

I should have gone for a walk as it was sunny-ish, but my heart wasn't in it. So, did more gardening, thinned out the raspberry cames so that the fruit we will get should ripen.

What elese did happen was IT disaster. And is still going on. I opened one e mail and that was fine, the next one crashed Outlook, and needed to be closed down. I rebooted the computer, tried again with a different mail, and same thing happened.

On top of that, Teams stopped working. And other functionality of Office Online was denied.

Sigh.

I know I was expecting shit, but this was worse than I thought.

I did have three meetings in the morning, the Teams from the old company still works, so could join. But as a guest.

But it works, and we all act as spanners in the works of a functioning meeting, which is only right.

At least I have the cats. And coffee.

Poppy seems to have reached the point in which she seems happy in the house, even if it takes her half an hour to decide to actually go out the front door, rather than stare at it out like a very dull episode of The Sweeny. But with kittens. In fact, we have had them for nearly 11 months, and although Poppy has grown a little, Cleo hasn't, and still looks like a kitten.

Such joy.

I do gardening after work, pull up some more weeds. Wild carrot. Smooth Sowthistle. THen have a brew.

Dinner is breaded chicken, noodles and stir fry. Another triumph, though you'd expect nothing less, really.

And then there is football: first up Spain v Slovakia, I think. Spain were slow in the first half, then get a fluke goal when the Slovakian keeper flapped a cross into his own net. Second half it was bonkers, Spain scoring four more, missing five more too.

And then for the grand showdow, the final games of Group F: Germany v Hungary and Portugal v France. Through the game, as scores went up, all four teams in the group lead it, then as both games ended 2-2, France and Germany went through with Portugal picking up one of the best 3rd place finishes.

A mad, but brilliant evening.

We went to bed and saw the near full moon hanging away to the south east.