Friday 30th July 2021

We have reached the end of another week. I have no idea really, other than what I write in these posts, what I did to pass the day doing, other than whatever I did, it took me all day to do it. And you can trust me when I say that I only got through it was by some advanced swearing.

What with the IT issues through the week, I had to complete the report I had been handbagging all week, well, for two days anyway, but I had to finish it and send it out by the end of the day. I was going to have to be hard on myself, not having the other laptop switched on so I wouldn't listen to podcasts or following the latest Twitter thread on whatever captured my attention.

And for Jools, she was on the first day of her weekend, though on her day off she is more productive than I am when I'm at work. Once she left the house at quarter past six, she went to do a session of yoga, then walked along the prom before going shopping. Coming back, we had breakfast, then she was out again to go into town for a hair cut and shopping at Marks and Spencer.

Back home for lunch, then out for swimming.

Meanwhile, I ate toast, drank coffee and wrote my report. It might not be much, but it pays the bills, I suppose.

I take a couple of calls, from my old minions. I still care about them, even if their new boss doesn't. They are well, but fed up.

So it goes, so it goes.

I have the new set up for work. It takes up time to put it together, but it will be better for me in the long run, we just have to find somewhere to store the screen and keyboard when its not in use. For now in a box under the stairs. Seems to work, for now.

Jen calls, as asks if we were going round ehrs for dinner: we are, I said. Which means no cooking for me.

So, after lunch Jools went swimming, and I wrapped up at work and turned the computer off, put the kettle on for a brew. And in the fridge I see that she had brought some macaroons from M&S, so once she is back, another brew and half the packet.

Yummy.

The days drags out, as I wait for six and the music quiz. Time comes round, and I join. Its the same people we went to see in London the other week. I have no idea of the subject this week, but its fun to play along and swap banter than thoughts on Dusty Hill from ZZ Top who died this week. Some people in the quiz are musicians and had met Dusty!

As soon as the quiz finished, we jumped in the car to Jens where she, Sylv and John were waiting. She served up honey and mustard coated pork, meatballs and spicy oven roast potatoes. I even have wine. Red Wine. Spritzer. Two of.

Daring.

We then have a game of Meld, which with Sylv takes two hours, as she is a tad unorganised, and can't keep track of what she is doing. We take some of her money, all of about 50 pence.

It was nine, and we had an early start in the morning, so we say goodnight and we leave, driving home in almost no traffic as darkness fell.

It am the weekend.

Thursday 29th July 2021

40 years ago, the UK took the day off the celebrate and watch the wedding of Lady Diana Spencer and Prince Charles. It was a fairy tale, or so it seemed, though one which would soon turn bitter and end in tragedy.

I remember it being a hot day, one spent on the beach at my friend Simon parent's beach hut near the Clarement pier. A much better use of our time I believe. I had already become jaded with the diea of the Royal Family, a stark contrast to some eight years before when we had a day off schoold to watch Princess Anne and Captain Mark Phillips. The grandparents came round to watch it on our colour TV. I saved newspapers of these Royal events for years, weddings, births and so on, but one day, when I was in my little house in Oulton Broad, I threw them all out.

I now try to sell the Royals to my Danish colleagues as they seem to have a high opinion of their Royal Family, so maybe they could have two; one for weekdays and one for Sunday best?

Just a thought.

I marked the anniversary by going to work. I say going to work, I waited in for the deliveries of various cables and hubs so I could work and type without making mistakes and swearing.

Jools left for work, and I made a second coffee and logged on.

And all was going well until about nine there was an update, another update which the computer suggested would take some time. So, after saving my works in progress, I let it do its thing, and I went for a walk.

It was due to get breezy later, so I hoped I would see some butterflies. And that meant walking up to Windy Ridge. It is the point of the year when growth seems to be at its peak, paths that were tracks are now barely passable and paths have vanished, especially the one over the fields to Fleet House.

I walk beside the field, as everyone else dones, and notice that the wheat is ripe and pretty dry, just waiting its turn to be harvested.

There was no butterflies at the passageway, and the glade is now so overgrown that you can't get into it to inspect for Brown Argus and other blues. Teasels tower and are in flower, creeping thistles have finished flowering and the seed heads turned to cotton.

I walked down past the farm and up the slope the other side, looking at the butterflies in the hedgerows: Common Blues, Large and Small Whites, Red Admirals and lots of Gatekeepers. Up to Windy Ridge and along the track outside the wood, and the treeline was a butterfly magnet as hoped, although most were flighty.

I saw something unusual, a Lage White in cop with a Green Veined White, the larger Large White dradding the other round by its abdomen.

A single Common Darter zipped by, but settled right in front of me, allowing me to get some close ups.

Nice.

And then it was simply down the hill back to Collingwood and down the track connecting that with our street, and back home for ten, with the computer still updating away.

So, I made toast and smothered it with nutella, made a fresh brew and waited. In fact the USB hub arrived first, then an hour later the new screen lead. I set everything up, powered the laptop up once the update had finished, and the screen lit up, twice as big and clear.

Sweet.

Now there was no excuse for work.

He said.

I finish up at four, a day's work done. Kinda.

I rustle up a batch of courgette fritter batter, all ready to cook once Jools is home. Soon the kiten is filled with the scent of curry power and chilli flakes. Everytime I make them, the taste is different, and these were awesme, of course.

Outside the wind had got up, as expected, and clouds whipped across the sky, making it dark before it should have. At least I had the new WSC to read that this month came with not one, but two bonus magazines.

It doesn't get much better than that.

Laughable, really

Today's headline in the Express is that:

"Brexit Revenge: EU blocks opening up to UK tourists".

Let's get the first load of bollocks out of the way first, no punishment regarding Brexit is needed from the EU, Brexit in itself is the punishment.

And as for the EU blocking us from hoing on holiday, who would have thought that simply giving up on vaccinations, social distancing and a mask mandate would have any effects?

Only everyone apart from the fucking Cabinet.

But who is the vindictive one here?

The UK has created a special "amber plus" category from France due to an outbreak of the beta variant. On the French island of Réunion, which is, thanks to Google Maps, is off the coast of Madagascar. Réunion is a French department.

So, yesterday, idiot savant, Dominic Raab stated, in an interview, that the amber plus for France, and the additional measures were because of the outbreak on Réunion, which is French, but not in France.

Here's where it gets really stupid, as Réunion itself is on the simple amber list. Meaning you can travel to the UK from Réunion and not have to isolate, but travel from anywhere in France to the UK and you will have to isolate for ten days because of the outbreak on Réunion!

Now tell me who is seeking revenge or being vindictive?

5430

Panic on the streets of London
Panic on the streets of Birmingham
I wonder to myself
Could life ever be sane again?
The Leeds side-streets that you slip down
I wonder to myself.

The past, they say, is a different country.

I heard Panic (by The Smiths) on a Monday evening on the Richard Skinner or David Jenson's show before Peelie came on. In July, atmospheric conditions meant that the medium wave signal came and went, but the power of the song, and the fact that The Smiths had a group of children backing the song.

Before the internet if we wanted to hear a song, we had to own it or hear it on the radio. As David Hepworth says, we were far more likely to read about music than actualy hear it, which made our purchases so very precious.

To see how much has changed, I have listened to Chaise Longue by Wet Leg every day this week via YouTube, because I can. But go back twenty five years I would have to wait for a DJ to play it, or for it to appear on Top of the Pops or OGWT to see what the singer was like.

I wanted a copy of Panic, so I sat in for the next three nights for it to be played again. Amazing that it wasn't played again until Thursday night, and I taped it, although on medium wave, it would do until the record was released.

Time has changed many things, and Mr Morrissey is now a dick, and possibly a moaning racist one at that, and everything is literally at our fingertips.

The song itself was about someone in particular, afternoon DJ on Radio 1, Steve Wright, who after some dreadful news bulletin about some tragedy had made a flippant remark and played "I'm Your Man" by Wham.

News "got out" that the song was about Steve Wright, and the song became a hit, and Wright himself had to play it, knowing it was mocking him.

Hang the DJ
Hang the DJ

Wednesday 28th July 2021

It is nearly the end of July; high summer in other words, when we in east Kent should be getting the very best of the year's weather. What we have had this year is the wettest spring, May and June on record, and although there was a 10% chance of light showers, it seemed that Mother Nature had another deluge in mind.

I mean the heavy rain last for half an hour, and was impressive, but other areas, like London two nights ago had four inches of rain in an hour, and the place I audited on Tuesday was flooded out later in the afternoon as a huge storm settled over Manchester.

There is little need for watering the garden this year.

Today was the day I would power the new laptop up and see if it worked. So, once Jools left for work and I was fortified by a second coffee, I unbox it, and find the "thinkpad" had a different power connector. I thought companies were supposed to be standardising these things? Anyway, I plug it in, enter the new password.

That fails.

Then I remember its not connected to the internet yet, so type in the old password and that works.

Outlook and Teams powers up, and I have three day's amils to catch up on. And being holiday season that's about four a day. I try the intranet, the front page works, but little else does.

More of a problem is the tiny screen and smaller keyboard, which means I am making so many spelling mistakes all the time. Somewhere there is a spare screen and an external laptop. I go hunting in the attic, get out the chart books for an interview later next month, but couldn't find the box of IT stuff. I come down and look in the only other place I can think of, in the porch where the box used to be, and its not there.

I mail Jools who tells me its in the spare bedroom, so I get it out and there is the screen and keyboard, and I can use the mouse from the old laptop, but on the new computer there is just the one USB slot.

AARRRGGGHHHHHH!

I shout.

So, I go online to order a multi-socket USB hub thing, and some note books. But there is another problem, the lead from the computer to the additional screen doesn't it. There is some kind of dongle thing that came with the laptop, could that be of any use. But I decide to wait for Jools to come home to ask her advice on cables, as looking on Amazon there are about 40 pages of cables.

Sigh.

I try to cope the the laptop as it is, but it is hard.

And outside the rain begins to hammer down. So hard, I take a video of it.

Fancy.

I also make a loaf of bread, so there is something to ahve for lunch. It is easy enough and ready for the oven at half ten, out by eleven, I let it cool down for half an hour, and I have a crust with lots of butter and apricot jam. And a huge brew.

Yummy indeed.

Its not long before I have another slice, this time with nutella, as it seemed i had a sweet tooth.

Its even better if I'm honest.

Work is a grind, the font on the screen is too small,a nd I have to strain to see, which means I have a migraine brewing soon. As work was quiet, I wrap up at two and go for a lay down with Scully on the sofa.

I fall asleep.

Jools had asked for burgers for dinner, and who am I to argue. But as I start to cook the burgers, I find the rolls are going mouldy, too mouldy to do anything with. So I defrost some out of the freezer, and like magic they are all done by the time the patties were cooked. Two burgers each, a glass of cherry juice and fizzy water. Lovely. The evening is quiet. Jools sits in the garden getting some rays, and I listen to the radio inside. The cats were fed and happy, Jools and I were also fed and happy. Darkness now falls just about at nine, and there is no need really for the blackout blinds. It is the 209th day of the year.

A new front opens in the culture war

After foolishly attacking the whole of the England football team for taking a knee: gesture politics, Priti Ugly said, and then having to attack the racist comments that came after the final.

It seems that the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, a charity manned by volunteers that rescues people from the sea, is the new target.

As I understand it, and I migth be wrong, the RNLI is legally bound to rescue anyone at sea in peril. But their role in bringing mogrants to shore who had been on danger of sinking has meant that the titan of great thought that is Nigel Farage has turned his attacks on the RNLI for being a "taxi for immigrants."

So, this where we are, as a country?

Four years ago, for a few days the world was shocked at the sight of a toddler being washed up ashore in Greece. Europe saw that the waves of desperation were humans and not virmin after all. Change was promised.

All that is forgotten now.

When the UK Government blocks almost all routes to claim asylum until people have landed in the UK and then bloked almost all legal routes to get here, it is as though the preople smugglers and the Home Office are fedding off each other, and the migrants, in order to justify each other. In making it almost impossible for all bar the richest of migrants to get here legally, the rest rely on the smugglers, who the Government can then blame and use a pretex for being cruel.

This morning the donations page to the RNLI crashed due to the amount of people trying to give money.

Things is, I live a mile from the coast where these poor wretches are trying to land. A few hundred desperate people who would cost a rounding up exercise for the Government to house and educate, the same Government which has paid billions of public money to its friends and backers for endless, many times uselss, PPE.

The Government are the criminals here, but would rather you and I get angry at those with nothing, while they sell whats left of the nation's silver. Our children and grandchildren will be paying for the Tory's corruption for decades.

But let's get angry at immigration.

All over bar the shouting

Yesterday, the Daily Mail lead with the above headline, quoting an un-named "senior minister", that the worst of the pandemic was over.

Today, news that the last of restrictions on visitors from the EU and US are to be lifted,a nd cruises from UK waters were to begin again. The Mail leads with "end of pandemic "nailed on""

Let me start by saying, I hope they are right.

Although I very much doubt they are.

Yesterday's new infection rate saw a slight increase, but the rolling daily figures are still showing 30% drops. But hospitalisations and deaths, though still at fairly low increases, but are increasing. And atual number of people in hospital are at levels not seen since January, they are for mostly unvaccinated people.

The question that the continued drop (until yesterday) of the daily infection rates is, do I trust the Government figures? Maybe. But the National Audit Office (NAO) publishes figures on actual data, though there is a lag of some weeks in this, so the Government would be hiding the truth for only a few days or weeks, but enough for some positive headlines today, which evidence has showed they are more than willing to do.

The relaxation of the mandate puts the responsibility of slowing the infection on those who still wear masks, while the unmasked are unencumbered by thoughts of caring for their fellow human beings. That shouldn't surprise us.

I want this bloody war to end as much as you do, but we either reach herd immunity by vaccination or infection. The former is safer, and to do that, we need to be cautios and protect our vaccines.

Johnson is bored by COVID and wants things back to "normal", so he can wage culture wars on lawyers and the RNLI.

Tuesday 27th July 2021

Pay day.

And we woke up earlier to find it cloudier and gloomier.

We had to put the table light on.

End of July? More like October, even if it is early.

It was to be a full day for me, with the audit planned and then a new work laptop due to be delivered.

In fact, for a while I thought I would be going to Warrington to dot he audit. The audit was for the offices of our parent company, or the UK branch. It is in the building next to where we had our Offshore offices. I could have gone up, had a face to face audit, looked into the whites of their eyes as I quizzed them, and in the evening go to visit friends who live nearby.

But even with the unlocking, it didn't seem safe, and the guy in charge has most of his staff still working from home, so, via Teams it was.

In fact I have two audits I needed to be at, but being lead auditor I could only do the one, so Warrington it was. The others will just have to fend for themselves.

I hoped.

So, after breakfast and a strong third coffee, I logged on and off we went. I suppose we're the same, think of ourselves as ordinary and what we do has little effect, but as the day went on, I uncovered gaps and things that could be done better, and rather than making a big deal out of it, we all had a rather good day, and I was even thanks at the end of it. Maybe there's something in this for me?

The laptop did arrive. I open the package to see what I had, a tiny thinkpad, it's no good for a work station really.

And another delivery was seeds for next year's lawnmeadow display. I just have to wait about a month before sowing, and then leave for ten months.

Its not all hard work.

As forecasted, the wind began to blow, and thoughts of going for a walk were abandoned, and instead I looked out over the garden, to the house at the bottom and the Dip beyond then to the cliff edge a mileaway. Its not a bad place to leave, really.

For dinner I used a jar of curry paste that Jools had bought, and so I used it to marinade some defrosted pork. I gave it little thought. And once I began to cook, however, it was more like chamical warefare, I had to open the back door, the windows and the fumes given off caused me to cough and my eyes to water. Maybe it wouldn't be that spicy, I said, not really believing it.

I did some noodles and a kind of stir fry, and served it once Jools came home.

I think to be fair, it was vindaloo hot, maybe hotter. I did finish mine, but Jools gave up even after coating the pork in mayo. Just too hot.

But we had ice cream in the freezer, so we soothed our mouths with a Magnum each before throwing the leftover food into the bin.

Tomorrow, I would try to use the new laptop, I gird my loins for that.

5425

Is this real life,
or is it just fantasy,
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality.

I was the music correspondant for my junior school class from 1972 to 1976. In that I, alone, went home for lunch (or dinner, we called it dinner and the school had dinner ladies), but anyway.

On Tuesdays, I would wait until quarter to one to listen to the top five rundown on Radio 1. They would play the top five, in reverse order, then before the number 1 would do the top 40 rundown.

School restarted at one fifteen, which meant I could stay home, listen to numbers 5 to 2, the rundown and the opening bars to the number 1 and scamper back to school along Hadleigh Drive, up Woods Loke West, along the passageway that lead to the school, and be in class as the bell went.

And then along came Freddie.

We had the radio on all the time at home, Radio 1, as there was little else if you wanted to listen to pop or whatever that was modern. And, I cannot remember Bohemian Rhapsody being played before. These were the days that a record entering the charts in the top ten were almost unheard of. Slade did in 1973, I think twice, but no act had a record go straight to number 1 again until The Jam and Going Underground in 1980.

So, in at number five was Bohemian Rhapsody.

It was twice as long as all the other singles at the time, and the DJ played pretty much all of it.

I had no idea what Bohemia was, of what a rhapsody was either, for that matter. And I had to remember these two new words for as long as I got to school to tell my friends who would be waiting.

The words left my brain like a butterfly leaving a flower, I couldn't remember the title. I had to say some long record by a group I had not heard of before, Queen had gone in at number 1. I seem to remember it as summer, and running to school trying to beat the bell for start of afternoon lessons, but it was released on the last day of October, so was into Novemeber when it crashed into the charts.

By Thursday we were waiting for Top of the Pops so we could see this band play, but instead of the band miming in the studio, there was a video, the one we all know, with the three parts of the song, special effects and fancy, for then, video effects.

And it stayed arund for like ages. Number 1 for nine weeks, so much so even the BBC got bored and added their own effects to the video.

And that would have been that, the song become something of a kitch classic, a guilty pleasure and would really only get played on Simon Bates' Golden Hour, rarely on other shows. And then came Mike Myers and the song took on a whole new life for a new generation.

For me, it will always remind me of that Tuesday lunchtime, looking at the clock and wishing the bloody song was over so the rest of the top 5 would be played so I could get to school without being later.

Nothing really matters, Anyone can see,
Nothing really matters,
Nothing really matters to me
Any way the wind blows...

No confidence

You know, I'm pretty sure if the Police Federation of England and Wales had passed a otion of no confidence in the Prime Minister, Home Secretay and Chancellor, the newspapers might have made something of it.

And yet in the 24 hours since then, and the publication of a devastating three page letter sent to the three, life for Johnson and Patel has gone on as though everything is normal. In fact they were at a police college yesterday and were shown the actions of a police dog.

Johnson spoke about his dog likes to shag his leg, whilst Patel enthused about how such dogs (the police dog) could be used to attack people, thereby showing their personalities.

Both Johnson and Patel both went on to make strong speeches, another one, about being even thougher on crime with talk of chain gangs doing community work. As previously stated, if the Criminal Justic System was properly funded, the closed courst that Johnson and May closed were to be reopened, and funding to pay staff to work in these courts, then maybe, just maybe, the accused and victims might see justice.

It is lazy bit too easy to blame the backlog of cases on COVID, when the virus has addded a few percent on what was already record-breaking delays in cases coming to court. It is something like two years now, except when it is high profile of course, almost like it is window dressing.

The Police, of course, cannot go on strike, so this is the strongest they can do.

It will be ignored by the Mail, Torygraph, Express and the Government.

20,000 officers cut under the Tries since 2010, and planned to recruit 20,000, but with natural wastage due to injury and retirement, its a sticking plaster, and wouldn't be needed if the police was funded and manned.

Monday 26th July 2021

Back to work, and with the cloudy weather continuing, it is only semi-light when the alarm goes off at five, even when I get up twenty minutes Later.

Although the short summer nights and long days seem to go on forever, nights are getting longer, a little more each day the year ages. The never ending Scandic summer holiday continues, with my boss starting his three weeks off. He thinks it odd I'm not taking any time off. It's what comes with not having kids.

Jools is up and about by the time I came down to find a coffee waiting.

Nice.

She leaves for work, and I log onto to work. I get as far as powering on the laptop. I get to the desktop. And then enter my password.

Enters password.

Enter password again.

I get an error message.

I try the password to both systems, neither is accepted.

I can't get into Outlook or Teams, which would mean work options would be limited. There is the web option, I open Office online and on Tems there is a message from IT, they have reset my password as I have a new laptop coming, floow this link to reset it to something else.

Bingo.

I click on the link, and my new password is accepted first time. Cooking on gas.

I reboot the laptop, just to make sure.

I get as far as trying to open Outlook. I am prompted to enter a password. I enter the new one, and that isn't accepted.

I try over and over again, reboot the computer a few times, just to be sure.

Using the online Office, I have to enter my new password, and that is accepted. I guess it means that the credentials on my old company laptop is no longer acccepted, so I have little choice but to use the web solution until the new laptop arrives. Which means no mail, as there is no mail tab. But there is Team. So, just the one meeting.

Two and a half hours have passed.

Sigh.

I have breakfast and stare at the leptop. Its going to get no better.

I have a meeting with a colleague about training requirements for the job I do. I am told there is a process for audits and a template. There is no actual process to follow, they kind of made it up and the template. And now want me to follow this process, in my audit the next day.

Not going to happen.

Sigh.

One day, I swear, this will get better.

I suggest, with great respect that training is given to us all from the old company so we can be in complaince. I use the word "shambles" again.

If I could have had a whisky, I would have, even before eleven. Its whisky time, somewhere in the world.

Sigh.

I have lunch, bagels with cream cheese, making pretend I'm in New England at Dunkin Donuts. On holiday. Even if their coffee is too sweet and is served in bucket-sized cups.

I try to work, I really do, but it seems so pointless with so little actually working. I make it to half two, then give up.

I have to conswerve my strength as I have eight days of auditing to do on Tuesday.

I audit therefore I am.

I scarify the garden.

I rake it first, then scarify each section, gathering the dried and dead thatch into piles, and thenput it by hand, shaking any seeds out, into a bag. Repeat until the whole of the lawnmeadow was done.

When the sun was behind the clouds it was chilly, when the sun come out it was too hot. A typical summer, then.

I am all done by half four, so slice and egg and breadcrumb two small aubergines, ready to cook for when Jools came home. Cats meow, so I feed them.

A typical day.

I am finishing the cooking when Jools comes back, we exchange news as we eat.

Not much changes, really.

It is evening. There is no football. No cycling. Just music, coffee and chocolate.

Double waiting

I have a busy day today.

No really.

So here we go, two points, linked.

Since the unlocking of the economy by JOhnson on the 19th, fresh infections have falled by about 50%. This, not surprisingly, is being trumpeted by the press.

But, we know that increased interactions, mostly without masks and distancing will increase infections, its just a case of when.

For a few days, the "delete the app" hashtag has been trending, as COVID deniers hold sway. THere was a demonstration in London at the weekend where speakers compared doctors and nurses in the NHS to those in Nazi deathcamps and called for them to be hung!

The UK can do batshit crazy too, apparently.

Cases will surge, I am expecting something to show by the weekend. Not that I want to see people fall ill and go to hospital, but reality can be a killer.

And the second point is that suply chains are about to collapse all over the country.

I have read multiple blogs and reports, though little in the press other than any issues is to do with the app rather than a shortage of drivers caused by Brexit or whatever.

As there are fewer and fewer trucks and capacity in general, more and more core items will be shipped, the items of limited appeal will be the first to be disappear. It seems we won't run out of food, as such, but there will be ever little choice.

And the haulage and retail industries claim there has been little engagement from the Government regarding mitigation is ignoring pings for key workers, and thanks to Adam Wagner, it would also appear that ignoring such pings and isolating might be breaking the law. And again, no clear gudance from Government on that either.

So, the seeds have been sown for a harvest that might be bitter, or barren.

We just wait.

Sunday 25th July 2021

Day two of the weekend, and the weather was going to be pants.

Big pants.

So, no trips out planned, if the weather allowed some work to be done in the garden. Cook dinner, Jools would go swimming.

And that's it.

Really, not much to report.

I woke up and removed the earplugs, and was rewarded with 5,000 seagulls on the roof of the mobile home where the party was the night before, as I guess the bbq and so on wasn't cleared up at whatever time it all finished. But I am sure those with hangovers would't have appreciated the seagulls on their roof, a few feet above their beds, squawking to the whole wold about the food they had found and all seagulls should come along to eat.

I lay in bed listening to the gulls, and then there was silence.

I could hear cats padding about, but no fighting, no fuss. So I get up and I feed them, wait for Jools to wake and then put on the kettle and make brews. It was going to be a lazy morning, so we have first breakfast of fruit, then follow that with another coffee and croissants.

There was more than enough time for a long, lazy shower and then a shave, the weekly shave. Whether I need one or not.

Outside the rain hammers down, and seems like its set in for the day.

We have an early lunch of pork pie and slaw.

Exciting stuff.

In the afternoon I make Jools some cirried rice for her snaps during the week, then as the rain stopped, I went to cut more of the lawnmeadow and do a second cut on the areas I had done previously. Jools rakes up the grass, and the work is done.

She goes swimming at three, and I prepare dinner, rain and mist sweep along the coast outside.

We had achieved little, but the sun had come out for a while, so I go out with the camera to record our work.

And like that, the weekend came to an end.....

Constitution matters

Last week, Labour MP Dawn Butler, was ejected for the House (of Commons) for the rest of the day's business after pointing out, with actual facts, that the Prime Minister had lied. And does lie.

The ridiculous situation is that Johnson, can lie, and not suffer any consequences, either from breaking the rule of the House of Commons, Erskine May, but someone pointing out the lies can be ejected.

And until that situation is corrected, democracy will be in peril.

In Erskine May, it says, essentially, that chaps shouldn't accuse chaps, even when there is strong evidence to back that up.

But on lying, especially the PM, it says that that should be considered Contempt of Parliament, but with no actual tariff attached. Convention states, that if a Member makes a misleading statement, then they should return at the earliest opportunity to correct the record. Johnson has made many such misleading statements to the House, and never corrected the record even when he was invited to, and apparently there is nothing the Speaker can do, nor the House itself.

And the press don't seem to care. Maybe because they think he is batting for "their side", or is still useful, and those that vote for hom, know him to be a liar, and don't seem to care either.

We have a constitution here, and it hasn't made any dfference. For it to work, when someone breaks it, there has to be defined consequences, but opperating under the "good chap" assumption has meant when a bad chap gets in, he can get away with, if not murder, then manslaughter.

Two years

Alexander Boris de Piffel Johnson has been Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and leade of the Conservative and Union Party for 104 weeks. Two years.

And on the anniversary the Conservate Twitter feed proclaimed this:

"Since then we have delivered Brexit, provided £400 billion in pandemic recovery assistance, signed trade deals, boosted defence spending, recruited new police, and more:"

Brexit is not delivered. Not in total. In fact, Brexit will never be delivered, not providing the benefits Brexiteers, including Johnson and Cummings claimed. And what was agreed is now so politically toxic, especially in Northern Ireland, that Johnson wants the NIP renegotiated. Even if Johnson were to accept that, the further the UK diverges, the more negotiations will have to take place, and as NI is in the EU SM for goods, divergance will make the border down the Irish Sea harder and wider too.

The trade deals that Liz Truss has agreed have been, overwhelmingly on the same terms as we had as a member state, one (with Japan) is on worse terms, and the one with Australia throws UK farming under the big red bus. And many of those deals will have to be renegotiated in the next four years.

£400 billion in recovery assistance, mostly needed because of the hopeless way in which Johnson and his Government handled the pandemic. Locking down later, and then harder, meant worse economic hits than would have occurred if down when SAGE recommended. Many times that figure was spent on PPE and other services from friends and relations or Monsiters or their advisors, or Conservative Party donars. On top of that, something like 170,000 excess deaths, and thousands of NHS and care staff died. He clapped for them, then offered them 1% pay rise, which he backtracked to 3%.

Defence spending has increased, on US missile systems that the US holds the access codes for. And have mortgaged our children's futures to pay for.

Even if we accept that last claim, the UK is 30,000 officers down on the numbers the Conservative Party has cut over the last 11 years, and at the same time cut the criminal justice system funding by 40% thus denying the accused and their victims of justice.

Mostly though, it the lies. The bare faced lies.

Giving the Monarch unlawful advice, and there being no conswequences.

Failure to acted on repeated breaches of the Ministerial Code by his ministers and himself.

Until we take this seriously and it matters again, democracy in the UK is on a dangerous slope, while Johnson and his party claim more and more power without scrutiny.

Brexit was never about Brexit, it was about unfettered power. The only upside is that Johnson and his Government don't know what they want to do with it, who comes next will, though.

Happy Anniversary.

No sandwiches in Paris

Today's Daily Mail website has a story on the situation with the Marks and Spencer shop in Paris, that has run out of sandwiches.

Turns out its a bit of a treat for locals to pop into M&S and buy some sandwiches and snacks. Who knew?

Anyway, head of the company, former Tory MP, Archie Norman, tells how red tape means his company's sandwiches and other stock require so much paperwork they have not been able to restock the shop.

But he blames the EU for applying the rules and claims the UK Government "is doing their best".

Really?

Turns out leaving the SM and CU has consequences: who knew?

Not Johnson or Frost, apparently.

Well, they were told, but went on reguardless, and now are using their own demand to be treated as a third country as a reason to complain that the EU is treating the UK, or Britain, really, just like any other third country.

He says: "The purposes of the customs union is to prevent product that doesn't comply with EU standards coming in – and there is no risk. This is purely border bureaucracy." That's what the meeting of two regulatory regimes looks like. I mean this level of dishonesty is staggering.

Saturday 24th July 2021

All week the sun has shone down from clear blue skies, little wind had disturbed the long grasses in the formal beds at Chez Jelltex. But sure as Boris Johnson lies when he opens his mouth, once the weekend arrives, the clouds roll in and the sun vanishes.

In fact, the thunderstorm I had watch drift up the coast of Brittany all day on Friday to Jersey, made it to east Kent by dawn, and as we laid in bed, rolls of thnder could be heard.

But, as is the way, conditions that make such storms possible in the souther Channel seem to stop at the Straites of Dover, and the storm fizzled out, and within a couple of hours, blue sky could be seen through the clouds.

That left the question of what to do with the day.

In the far north of the county, there is a single reliabe and easily accessable site for Green Flowered Helleborines. In Kent we are "blessed" with a var that rarely opens as the plants self-pollinate. However, shots from friends this week showed one plant that had a single almost open flower. Its a long way to go, should we drive 75 minutes just to see this?

Silly question, pack your bags.

In fact, to make the trip worthwhile, I had found the location for Dark Green Fritillaries in the area, so if the orchiids disappoint, there was the butterflies. If the weather cleared.

This was the first weekend, the first day in fact, of the school summer holidays, and the radio was full of traffic warnings as families try to go somewhere, anywhere. This would usually mean roads leading to the port being jammed, and workrounds along country lanes needed. As it was there was little traffic, and no ferry had recently docked. But I still chose to drive out along the Alkham Valley so I could check on any possible poppy fields. Sadly, none seen, but the work done on Bushy Ruff, landscaping looks amazing with the large house looking fine now the vegetation obscuring it has been cleared. I just need time to get there to snap it.

Out along the valley, joining the A20 just before the Roundhill Tunnels and beyond the road becomes a motorway.

And still, so little traffic about. In fact, to get to the orchids, we would have to drive almost all the way to the M25 before turning off, this was a drve of about an hour, then another ten minutes or so to reach the lay by. As soon as you turn off the motorway, go down the hill and take the road west, you have left traffic long behind, and the road becomes little more than a wide lane.

Down into the valley created by the River Darrent, where an old pack bridge and a ford beside it carry traffic off the old high road. The church looks on, sadly locked.

We drive through the village, and a couple of miles on, pull into the lay by, and I could see dozens, well, maybe two dozen, spikes of the weedy orchids showing well. It was just a case of finding one with the flower open, or partially open.

I even knew where to look, and I saw the spike with one small flower hanging down, just ablout open, but not visible enough to see the lip. So I asked Jools to lift the flower up so I could snap it.

And this is what we drove 75 minutes for. Stunning, isn't it?

And we were done.

A little further on we turn off and head up the hill in search of the butterflies. But the cloud had rolled in, and there was more than a hint of rain in the air. I could see there was no point in chasing butterflies at that time. Maybe if we found somewhere to eat, by the time we were done, the clouds might have cleared?

It was worth a go, at least.

We return to the main road, and drive back to Eynsford, manage to nab the last parking space, and walk to the cafe to order a coffee and piece of carrot cake from the outside wagon. We wore masks until we were seated, while families came and went, unmasked, like things were back to normal. I mean, I know we were outside, but it felt wrong, saying that, the young lady serving was also unmasked too.

We took our time in drinking coffee and eating the cake, but the weather didn't clear, so we made the decision to go to Detling to check on more orchids, the BLH at The Larches.

Lots more traffic heading for the ports and tunnel this time. I say "ports", I mean Dover, no other ferry ports in Kent now. Anyway, up Detling Hill, turning off onto Pilgrim's Way and the traffic and moden life just melts away. After parking up, I am getting my camera out when a small spaniel trots over to show me the huge stick she had found.

Very impressive.

I have a brief chat with the owner about photoraphy and orchids before I enter the wood to find Jools waiting for me.

Through the wood, looking around for orchids, but mainly butterflies. I see none oe either, until we come to the meadow and cross to the path leading up the sides, where we find planty, including a couple of var. vrindiflora, or spikes lacking pigmantation, these were out, but into the meadow and we couldn't find the two large spikes we saw last time we were here, so walk further on to the area under the trees, and again, not many spikes here, but a few were in partial flower, including the variagted spike which was also infected with a fungal "rust".

That was the only spike in the area that remained out of a good thirty or forty.

Through the gate to the other path, and we find many, many more spikes, with some growing in the middle of the path, but larger numbers, and spikes of impressive size, at the woodland edge.

We walked back to the car, and after a quick drink, head back to the main road and drive up towards the M2, taking the coastbound side back towards Dover. It was busy, but most traffic was heading to Thanet, a day out in Margate, rather than going to the port for some continental sunshine.

We did try to call in and see Jane in her bungalow in hey, nonny, Nonnington, but there was no answer at the door, so we drove back along the narrow country lanes, windows open and the sunshine now having broken through, it was a glorious afternoon.

We arrive home and put on the kettle to make reviving brews to go with the small bars of Marks and Spencer chocolate we would also consume with them.

I review shots, do some writing, and generally allow the Saturday afternoon to slip through my fingers.

We have an early dinner of jumbo-sized lamb samosas, which were rather, if not very good.

Jools does some light gardening, and the afternoon goes into evening, where we listen to Craig on the wireless celebrating the life of Amy Winehouse who has been gone for a decade now.

The planning permission of the coke-snorting ex-mayor of Dover went through last year, and so two caravans have been placed on the once vacant land at the end of our garden. Last night they had a party.

There were screaming children, bouncy castle and a singer.

The singer was quite good, but loud.

He returned to do three more sets, one nearly at midnight. I just about got to sleep thanks to the use of earplugs. But I am noise sensitive, and I have to concentrate hard not to let the anger wind me up so much I can't find sleep on top of the noise.

Weekend COVID

We are now 5 days into Johnson's reckless gamble to unlock the economy.

At a minute past midnight on Monday, nightclubs opened, people rushed in, fireworks were let off, baloons released and people danced, hugging, sreaming.

I mean, I have no words.

Except I do.

We were so close to being in control, but it was too difficult for this Government. All they had to do was close the borders, and limit spread.

Easy.

Those who came into contact with another who was infected; isolate.

Simple.

Instead, despite the whole point, apparently, of Brexit, was controlling the border, the one time it was really needed, the Government dithered, and never did. Even from highly infected India.

The Delta variant arrived. So, stop the spread?

No.

And now I hear people saying as infections have dropped 20% since Monday that the fears were wrong. There is a seven to ten day delay before the effects will show up in positive tests, two more weeks for hospitalisations and another two for deaths.

I mean, I don't want people to die, but today 64 people died, not that long agao it was single figures. Heck, one day no one died.

People are going on holiday. By plane. The perfect environment to be strapped in for hours on end. I'm sure its fine and nothing will happen.

I mean just because you can go on holiday doesn't mean you should.

What will happen, will happen. Maybe another lockdown in a month to six weeks.

The pingdemic continues, and rather than deal with the uncontrolled spread of the virus, people are to be excused from isolating if they are pinged. These are mostly the "key" workers who we all clapped for last year, and now are so little thought of they are up for sacrifice.

Still, lorries won't drive themselves, shelves don't fill themselves, just so a few entitled folks can go around without masks.

Friday 23rd July 2021

Another week nearly done.

It my last day of the week, and Jools' first day of the weekend. She is going to do yoga, then shopping, then a haircut, then swimming. She's busier on her days off than I am at work. Though don't tell my boss!

I am still stumbling about, while Jools has packed her bag with the gear she needs, empty shopping bags, shopping list, swimming stuff. I have found the coffee she made.

And she is gone.

I review parts of the interwebs, nothing much has changed. So much stupid in my country.

So, I go to work. I slide from one chair to the other, log on and wait for another IT update. And talking of IT, the issue I have been struggling with is ongoing. Clear the cache and history IT says.

I do, doesn't work. So, I have to update the IT report "ticket". I get to the page, type in my comments, press save and the page refreshed and my comment is gone.

I do this three more times, and with the same result. As you can imagine this did wonders for my mood.

There was the weekly COVID meeting, where my colleagues in India are upbeat about the situation there as the vaccine is rolled out. When it came to me, I had to tell the truth about living here in Plague Island.

It is embarassing, and my boss can't understand what is going on. Its the leading news in Denmark what the latest mess this twat of a country is getting up too now.

Saying Boris Johnson is usually enough to explain the latest clusterfuck.

And then there is the meeting about audits. One of the meetings about audits. It is yet more frustration on my part. And where are the results from your audits, Ian? Well, no one has trained me on any of the new systems, boss I should have said.

I say yes, I will fill in the spreadsheet and another piece of me dies inside.

To call it a shambles would be kind.

At ten, Jools returns with a car full of shopping. So I help her put stuff away, toast some bagles and we have a late breakfast.

And she is off again, into town for a haircut or something, while I stare at the computer and work out how to update the IT ticket. I mean its only been six months, one shouldn't expect every sytem to be working in such a short period of time.

I rarely write about work, but this is so soul-destroying, taking so long to do the most basic of tasks, and that's when you can. I am to get a new laptop and mobile in the next week, and maybe things will get better.

Maybe.

I hear a noise and see a van stop outside of the house. It raises itself off the road on invisible legs, and by the time I get a camera and walk to the window, the guy is finishing having installed a new street light on the telegraph pole. No more sickly orange light for us, oh no.

And in less than 5 minutes he is gone, onto a different street to fix their long, dark nights.

I have to go to the chiropractor, as Ray was to interpret the results from the hospital and come up with treatment. Just down the hill, and wait in the car until called in.

He explained it in simple terms, I have a tear in my tendon leading to my forearm, and that must be protected, as if it tears all the way through that will be really painful.

He rubs, prods and rubs, then gives me some stuff to do from Monday. And I am free. It was the weekend.

We had hoped for thunderstorms. And I had spent most of the watching a huge storm drift from east of Brest, up along the coast of France. It took 12 hours to do a hundred or so miles, and no thunder here.

I cook a steak and ale pie for dinner, to use up the leftover vegetables and gravy from Sunday dinner. By the time I had taken part in the music quiz, and cooked dinner, it was seven.

Dinner was splendid, would hav been better with wine, but I made do with squash.

And that was it, really. It got dark, we went to bed to read a little then once it was dark, about nine fifteen, we turned the light out, and Cleo took up position between my feet.

Thursday 22nd July 2021

The last day of Jools' working week.

At five she will be done with the office until Monday morning. I will have Friday to work though, but then I have no commute.

Swings and roundabouts.

It is yet another glorious day in the Garden of England, though as you would expect that is going to change for the weekend when we will have thunderstorms and strong winds.

Deep joy.

Jools now takes it easy in the mornings, taking time to have a shower and spend time in the garden, but is surprised when she come in to find me already having started work.

Is it late?

Well, five past seven.

I say. She make her herbal tea and leaves for work, the cats are already on their post-breakfast snooze, though Cleo will come down a few times to ask for some more food/affection/attention. Or whatever. And is so cute doing it, I give in. Always.

There are meetings, as always. And I have to get my audit report written, they don't write themselves, apparently. And then Henrik calls: but it can't be Henrik as he is on holiday. As I tell him. He had mails, he said. Don't look at mails on holiday.

He wanted to chat, he said. Sometimes talking about frustrations with someone going through the same problems really helps.

Hello. My name is Ian, and I am a quality manager.

That first step is always the hardest.

I get a series of mails: was I interested in being a quality manager at a pre-assembly site?

OK, where?

Middlesborough the recruiter writes back instantly.

Well, if its Able Seaton, I can't work there for the customer as I work for the contractor and I know shit, and anyway, my contract doesn't allow it. Not straight away.

He never writes back.

A nother new dawn fades.

I plough on with work, writing the summary is the hardest, how to be critical without being too hard on them.

That takes two hours.

And I will sleep on it before sending in the morning.

I go for a walk.

The plan had been to walk up Station Road to the furthest track and walk along to Windy Ridge.

But as soon as I walked past the bus stop at the top of the hill I could see the combine harvester.

Now, I had thought it would be weeks before the harvest could begin due to the recent heavy rain making the ground too wet to have heavy machinery on it, but chalk downland drains quick and then dries, as I walked beside the field, kepping pace with the harvester, where two weeks ago there were mud baths, there was clay almost as hard as concrete.

I take several pictures, and again as I walked up the final slope to the wood, looking back as the machine emptied its hoppers into a waiting tractor pulled wagon.

It feels that summer is already drawing to an end.

As I walk up the hill between two fields, several clumps of knapweed had freshly emerged Painted Ladies feeding on them. They looked amazing in the sunshine, colours so bright. I take lots of shots, and one showed me its underwings.

But beyond that, I saw few other butterflies, the Gatekeepers I did see were too flighty and a Holly Blue flittered by without stopping.

I walked down the hill back to Collingwood, then down the lane to the track that leads to our house. Back in time for lunch.

Lunch is a bagel packed with cream cheese and a pint of squash. And I can report I have just about kept the gout at bay for the week, so twinges, but mostly OK.

Which is nice.

Odd now there is no football in the evening and no cycling in the afternoon, so once work is done, I mow the main part of the lawnmeadow, leaving two small areas; one where the Pyramidal is setting seed, and the other which is fill of Musk Mallows, now climbing through and over the hedge into next door.

I rake the meadow and will leave for a couple of days to dry out.

Is that the time? I make dinner, breaded chicken, fried potatoes, garlic mushrooms and creamed spinach. All the food groups.

And it is all very nice indeed.

Jools had come home via M&S, so had bought macaroons, so we have three mini ones with coffee as the light began to fade as another high summer day fades into night.

A soft yellow almost full moon rises. I take shots.

There was silence, it seemed magical.