Still clueless after six years

Yesterday, JRM published the top ideas to "make the most of Brexit"

1. Encourage fracking, shortcut rules on planning, consultation, etc, via an emergency act.

2. In at number 2! Abolish EU rules limiting vacuum clearners to 1400w. Watt?

3. Remove precautionary principle restrictions on things like experimental medicines and GM crops.

4. Abolish rules on size of vans that need an operator's licence.

5. Abolish EU limits on electrical power levels on electrically assisted cycles.

6. Allow certain medical professionals, pharmacists, paramedics, to qualify in three years.

7. Remove the requirement for agency workers to have the attributes of permanent workers.

8. Simplify the calculation of holiday pay.

9. Reduce requirements for fixed wire testing for businesses.

And that is it after six years on from the referendum, Almost every single one is about removing consumer, worker or environmental protections. And to think that the UK sacrificed 12% of trade and 4% of GDP for this!

Monday 30th May 2022

Back to work. If only for three days.

Still counts.

At least living in Europe, but who knows what lies in the future for Brexit Britain, there is no restrictions on when I take my annual vacation, so I am able to take 5 days, work three, two days public holiday and another 5 days off, and no one compains. Although I do assure my boss no more time off before the autumn now.

But for now, time enough to catch up on mails, complete the insanely complex travel expenses, and then squeeze in actual work.

Windows update.

Of course.

We were up at five fifteen. It was light well before. Poor Cleo had been sick during the night, I can kinda remember the event, but when I looked at the duvet, with was covered with dried vomit. Cleo seemed well enough to be fair.

I would keep an eye on her through the day.

Jools left for the pool at ten to six, and I put on a podcast.

First task was to scan the receipts from my trip, then put them in a mail from my home PC to my work one, then try to get the SAP app working.

Don't ask.

That's two hours of my life I won't get back, but I think I have it done, until someone looks at what I have done and rejects it.

It was after nine, and time to tackle the inbox, which is surprisingly full, and not of good cheer wither. Demands for me to do something. Demands, I kid ye not.

I have breakfast and another coffee, and then I have a 1:1 with my soon-to-be ex-boss, and the only news really was that I was back from my holibobs and would be going out in three days. But I am cheerful and in control.

Probably.

The cats are asleep, and I am working hard. I try not to think of the million and one things I could be doing rather than this. I tell myself I make a difference, then have another meeting with my boss, dealing with yet another unprofessional incident. As if this is normal.

At eleven, or just past, the Red Arrows were due to fly along the Kent coast on the way from north France to their base in Lincolnshire. I had camera and big lens ready, but saw nothing.

I had lunch. More coffee.

And back to work.

Nothing much else to report. Too cold and cloudy for a walk, or I felt. In fact my legs told me they had done enough steps last week and could do with a rest.

I agreed and so stayed in.

I made some garlic corn bread for dinner to go with the caprese. Don't shoot me. I can tell yu it was better than the sweet version I did last year. But corn bread and caprese goes to well very well. I opened some wine too.

Cheers.

No football to watch, as the season is nearly over. Nearly. I was tired by eight, so go to bed to read, and close my eyes at half eight.

Phew, rock and roll.

The end is nigh. Maybe

I am asked by my boss and colleagues, from Denmark, most weeks when we will ditch the Prime Minister.

I would love to tell them of the revolution and heads on pikes, but its not that simple.

Only the Parliamentary Conservative Party can remove the PM. First by 54 letters of no confidence having been sent to the chairman of the 1922 backbencher's committee, and then a full vote of all MPs.

This week has seen an increase in those MPs willing to say publically that they have submitted a letter, that number seems to be around 44. But the 1922 Committee seems to have indicated that revealing the numbers will wait until after the Jubilee weekend and when Parliament sits again next week.

Then there is the question of if Johnson is removed, who will take over?

With all data on the country and economy heading southwards, if someone were to take over, it would be just to the next election when Labour or a coailition probably would win.

Problems are legion, with most stemming from Government policy, no matter how hard Johnson and co try to blame the EU, COVID, or wherever.

Interesting times. Perhaps.

Sunday 29th May 2022

And so we come to the final day of my week off, and to be honest, I was even more pooped than before.

Although helped by the late ending of the Champion's League Final, I slept through until half seven. I woke up to find the sun on its chariot, charging across the sky.

We had nothing planned for the day. Nothing except cooking lunch for when Jen came over once the tennis in Paris finished it's afternoon session.

I got up, and after coffee, made bacon butties and fresh brews before getting the lamb seasoned for the evening meal.

I was going to make lamb tagine, but with a twist of my own, with lots of fruit and some honey. It was all about the preparation, as always.

That done, Jools went to the tip to drop some cardboard off, and I hopped out to check on the Bee Orchids nearby. More than a dozen spikes, but none in flower.

I wait for Jools to come back out and pick me up, the excitement over for the day.

Once back home we have a brew sitting in the garden before I prepare the next meal: breaded aubergine.

It was one high octaine event after another here at Chez Jelltex.

Then to prepare the tagine: I browned the spiced meat, sauteed the onions, made some stock, added more spices, tinned tomatoes, pured it into a large pan, and placed in a low oven for at least three hours.

Soon it began to smell divne.

There was also the Championship play-off final to watch, Huddersfield v Forest. A tense game, won by Forest just before haf time, but after, the Terriers had two good claims for a penalty turned down.

So it goes, so it goes.

At half time, Jen arrived, so I cooked the rice, and so we ate through the second half, and very delicious it was too. And enough left over for two lunches for Jools at work and me at home.

How clever I am.

And that was the weekend and a week off. But, due to bank holidays. Holidays. Only a three day week this week, and then another day off and we're actually going away.

Party on

I have not commented on the publication of the Sue Grey report, because I have not had time.

But it now seems that the report was altered before being published.

Johnson met with Grey before publication to try to get it pulled, as "the facts were already out there", or someting.

Now it appears that many gatherings were not investigated at all, and some, with photos have since been leaked. Because, when you blame the underlings, its just possible they'll leak the evidence they have.

So it happened too.

Not onl that, it seems that Johnson and other senior figures had stong legal advice on how to fill in the questionaires, or were advised not to fill them in at all, so received no FPNs at all.

Which rather has upset those who did, clearly.

In the end, Grey reported to Johnson, so the idea the report was independant was stupid, and it now appears there is an unedited version, that many want published. And there is rumours of charges of misconduct in public office, with appeals for more pictures to be supplied to the Good Law Project.

Corruption is rife, and this episode proves that, its what we, as a country can or will do about it.

Johnson changed the ministerial code this week, just as the Parliamentary Standards Committee is to look into whether he, as Prime Minister, mislead Parliament.

Saturday 29th May 2022

Another day without work, but filled with orchids instead.

I had been contacted by another farmer asking if I would like to visit his farm and look at the Southern Marsh Orchids he had growing.

I said I would, so I arranged to be there at ten, my friend, Ian and his wife and extended family were also coming.

Of course we had to go shopping first, though just five days provisions needed as we are off on our holibobs before next weekend, but enough to make it a two person forage.

We went round, getting the important stff, like coffee and milk, before paying and driving home. But there was just enough time to put the shopping away before we had to go out again, as Jools had a hair cut. I would drop her off and go to the farm, but there was enough time for me to stop off in town for breakfast.

I parked behind the church, and what used to be the town's Co-Op is now gone, just an expanse of concrete, though clearer views of the Castle behind.

I walk to Chaplins, there's only one other table taken. I could have had a small breakfast or just a sausage butty, but my mouth asked for a large breakfast with extra hash browns, which was a lot, but I can tell you did hit the spot, and as it turned out, kept me going until nearly three in the afternoon when I got home.

I paid and left, driving to the A20, then up towards Folkestone. On the other carriageway, traffic was sold from Ayclife all the way back onto the motorway where the road was closed at Junction 13, and all traffic was being sent through Folkestone. Liverpool fans in their red shirts sat in their cars, going nowhere for a while.

I hope they reached Paris by kick off time.

I cruised towards Hythe, turning off and finding myself half an hour early, parked up to wait and watch the world go by, which for the most part was a flock of newly shorn sheep in a field of buttercups.

At least they're cooler I thought.

I drove to the farm, or where the sat nav said the farm should be. It had no sign outside of it, so I settled down to wait, hoping that Alastair would come down at then as promised. Ian and hs family were stuck in traffic the otherside of Maidstone, so would be a while.

Alastair came out, so I got out to shake his hand, and after deciding not to wait for Ian, his dauhter would, we wandered off as he explained the regime at the farm, and how the orchids arriving was a by-product. I was expecting some orchids, but how many is that? What I saw were orchids everywhere, except in the fields were crops had been shown, but also round the margins.

As soil type changed, orchids thinned out, but only to return in greater numbers the other side of the wood we walked through.

Ian and family had arrived, and joined us where I was inspecting what were clearly hybrids of CSO and SMO, but some had spotted leaves, most hadn't. Sometimes its best just to say they're fine looking orchids and enjoy the sight rather than put each spike into a tight definition box.

The orchids were mostly in fields and meadows with buttercups, making a truly wonderful sight, the yellow complementing the purple of the orchids perfectly. I took lots of pictures.

A fresh Small Tortoiseshell flittered across the meadow, so the farmer's daughter and I chased with our cameras. I get a nice shot, even if the open wings are not flat on to the camera.

Alastair also has two ponds, for fish, but are a haven for dragonflies, and no one has surveyed it before. I take shots of what I think is a Four-spotted chaser and a Common blue damselfly, other species perhaps were not so cooperative.

We walked on, back to the farm, where it was suggested we go to the pub.

A fine idea.

A short drive away was The Black Horse, where Jools and I have dined out at before, but we were just here for drinks. I had a fine bottle of porter sitting out on the sundeck with the others.

Time was getting away, so I took my leave after saying many thank-yous, programmed the sat nav for home, and that's when every route came up with traffic delay warnings. There was a choice, to head across country to Stone Street, through Bridge, then to Barfrestone, Waldershare and the Langdons to home. It would take time, but quicker than sitting in traffic.

Anyway, it was a nice day for a drive in the country, and there wasn't much traffic, Norwich had finished their season, so none of that to worry about.

I drove on, getting nearer and nearer to home.

And once I was home, I checked the traffic radar and the queues the car warned me off were not there.

So it goes, so it goes.

I make carbonara quickly, it comes together in half an hour or so. I have a couple of glasses of decent red with it, and am all done for the start of the League 2 play off final. Which was pretty good. Port Vale wining 2-0.

That gave me what should have been two hours before the Champion's League Final to write, edit photos and make supper before kick off, but there were issues outside the ground and the start delayed.

It kicked off after half eight, the ground still not full, and was compelling viewing. Real won 1-0, depsite Liverpool dominating, without doing enough. It all ended at half ten, by which time Jools had gone to bed and I was on the sloe port.

Cheers.

Friday 27th May 2022

Mum's birthday.

She Would have been 78. Only she didn't reach that mark.

On the long drive(s) to the airport before my trip to Rhodes, Jools asked if I missed Mum.

I have to be honest and say that I haven't. Its been nearly three years, and once the initial shock wore off, there were tasks to complete and life went on.

The closing of her estate combined with the first lockdown, so with that done, we were able to pay off the mortgage and begin to work for ourself rather than the bank manager.

I am thankful to Mum for that, and had she not have had a shopping addicition there might have been more. But in the end, its just money, and although we had our great differences, I would rather she had lived a longer and happier life. But she made her choices, especially after her minor heart problems, then again after the quadruple bypass.

She failed to change.

I came to terms with that, and moved on.

Sometimes I guess the anger wasn't about what I was angry about, just the waste of a life, spending the last decade and a half in her armchair, smoking, eating Pringles and doing crosswords. But that's what she wanted to do, and she earned the right to make that choice, even if it was a poor one.

I have seen friend's parents fade away, as either their mind or body failed. Dad went quick, hard to bear by easier to think he suffered little.

Mum suffered for over 20 years, and yet did not change. I know I tried everything, and it didn't work. Either anger, pleading, reason did not work.

So, to Friday.

I had arranged to meet a member from the group, Graham, and take hom to see the Heath Spotteds at Hothfield and then go to the Medway Valley to see the Early Marsh. This was to be the last full day of orchiding of the holiday, as frankly, I am whacked. But can find more energy of there's an orchid invlved.

Jools went to yoga at six, I put the bins out and had breakfast, as I did not have to be at Hothfield until nine. What I hadn't banks on was the traffic, which was made at eight. It seems that traffic heading to the Duke of Yorks school backed up across the roundabout, blocking all traffic. Maybe it happens every day, maybe it was just because if the the start of the half-term get-away. But traffic was solid.

I turned down JUbilee Way and was confronted with a jam from half way down. I turned round and then had to wait ten minutes to get over the roundabout, go down to Whitfield, go down the hill and out along the Alkham Valley, along with half the town.

No problems to Ashford, and out the other side to find yet more roadworks, right on the corner where I have to turn to reach the car park. And when I arrived there was no Graham.

So, I waited, and ten minutes later he arrived, he had also been caught up in traffic.

We walked down through the parkland to the fenced reserve, and to my surprise I saw no rosettes let alone spikes of the Heath Spotted Orchids I had expected to be in flower. We reached the decking, and on the platform were two people from Nature England, who were no happy with the management of the site, almost no moving water through the bog and sapling growth unchecked for several years.

On the way back to the car, I looked again and found two tiny spikes one with a single open flower and the other with two. Around them were several rosetted, but this was it, none anywhere else in the fenced reserve.

Sigh.

We walked back to the cars, then drove along to Leeds and onto the motorway before turning off to drive up the downs to the M2, across the Medway and then down through Cuxton to the meadow.

It was a glorious day, no clouds, light wind, and lots of orchids to snap. I hoped.

We parked between the houses, then crossed the main road, walked through the industrial estate, through the grafitti-covered tunnel under the railway, and into green heaven. It was like walking through jackets at the back of a wardrobe, but instead of winter, we walked into a luminous green landscape.

My friend, Terry, said it was easier climbing over the fence into the second meadow, rather than fight our way through the first like two Victorian explorers. Which is what we did. My legs just long enough to alow me to stride over the fence and into the meadow.

Two minutes of searching brought us the four x grandis hybrids, in full flower, fully two weeks earlier than last year. Around them, three tiny spikes of that we had come to see, the Early marsh Orchids.

In the other meadow I found two more EMO, some SMO and CSO, but dozens of hybrids of all three, deciding which were the parents was impossible.

I was distracted by two moths as well, and got shots.

But after half an hour we were done.

We walked back to the cars. Me via the garage for lunch. I bought too much, but was hungry. We drove in separate directions, me heading south on the M2, along with traffic heading to the port.

I decided to go via Thanet Way and miss the A2 out totally, which I think was wide, and made for eating lunch easier as I drove. It also allowed me to call in at the butchers in Preston for some lamb steaks for a tagine on Sunday.

I drove through Deal, just to make sure I'd miss the port traffic, that I would rather deal with traffic in, er Deal, shows how bad it was.

I had only been home half an hour and had to go out to collect Jools from the car hire place after dropping the monster Hyundai off. Rather than go to their compound, I waited in the St James car park, where Jools could nip through to via an alleyway.

It was the weekend.

So, we headed home up Castle Hill, then along Reach Road, looking out over the Channel to France where Common Sense now starts.

We had time for a brew and a donut each I got from the butchers.

Yummy.

At half four we went to collect Jen, then back to the Deal road and where dinner was waiting.

After parking, we walked to the Just Reproach for a swifter. Or two.

I had a pint of "mysterious brew", which was fine enough. And afterwards was tempted by the whisky infused cider, whcih didn't taste much of whisky, but was fine enough.

Jools had booked us in at a new place (for us) called "Lanes", and was indeed down a backstreet behind the old post office. We were the only customers, and were shown to our table. We were entertained by a hen party arriving for a function upstairs, seeing youn ladies try to walk up the stairs on sky-high heeled shots and mini skirts.

The food came; a sharing tower, filled with Morroccan nibbles. We had ordered an portion of "loaded" fries, which meant we all had enough to eat along with our cocktails.

We were in town for a Barry White tribute night at the Astor, Jools wanted to go, I came along, and Jen said she's give it a go, but wasn't really her thing.

Wasn't my thing, and near the end of the support set by a Supreme tribute act, I made my excuses and left, walked to the bus station to get a cab from the rank, and was back home in ten minutes. I sat in the back garden, watching the stars and planes, sipping sloe gin.

It got dark and I sipped on.

Thursday 26th May 2022

The thing about orchids, is. No, the thing about orchidists is, they rarely agree.

I mention this as I found something yesterday. Might not be anything. Might be something.

So, I send pictures of what I saw to three people whose opinion I respect, and one said yes, one said no and the other said maybe.

So, I don't know.

Except I know what my eyes saw, and what they saw was something different.

Is that clear?

I hope so.

Which is why I came be be on the top of a down at half six in the morning, looking among tufts of grass.

Hello, is it me you're looking for?

I had asked a farmer if I could look at a field of his, as it was the right orientation, I felt, so after receiving the thumbs up, I said I would be there early on Thursday as cattle were to be let into the field later that day. I didn't have long.

I searched, trying to do as little damage as possible, but for ten minutes I found nothing. Then I saw the pink sepals.

Bingo!

Where there's one, there's more I said to myself.

I saw a second.

Bango!

And on a ledge, just looking at me was a third.

Bongo!

I climbed up and saw it unlike its neighbours. It was something different, and yet, similar. Like two species mixed up, showing some of the characteristics of both.

Which it was.

I took shots and left the field to the incoming cows.

Wow.

Such is the life of an international quality expert, freelance beer taster and orchidiot.

I had agreed to show a guy, Christian, round some sites through the day He had the usual suspect species in his sights, and I wouldn't mind a return visit to see them again. I told him I'd meet him at the Granville, and from there we would head out.

On the way up Stone Street I stopped off at the greasy spoon for double sausage and bacon for breakfast, and a cuppa, before heading on and arriving at the pub as Christian did.

We shhok hands and agreed on an agenda, so it was off to Denge we would go.

We parked at Pennypot Lane, and began the walk to the reserve, but I could see major works on the drainage ditches either side of the track had been done, and the rich vegetation scraped away and discarded.

I feel very sad about that, as some of the best butterfly banks are here. Or were. They will return, but maybe not this year.

We had to pick our way through the heavy machinery, then up the bank to the gate.

He wanted to see Dukes and Lady Orchids. I told him I was pretty confident we would see both.

IN the end, we saw more.

Even before we entered the reserve, I pointed out the two Lady spikes on guard. He was thrilled. I told him to save his battery and card space as there would be hundreds.

Having snapped a good dozen Lady around the entrance, thoughts now turned to the Dukes, and although he had seen one before, it was just one. I thought we could do better.

It takes patience, but then I saw the familiar colour of a Duke, after several false alarms caused by Small Heaths. We followed it until it settled, and snapped.

I then pointed out a Dingy Skipper, which posed nicely too. He hadn't seen one of those either.

Snap.

We walked round the lower part of the site, admiring the Lady orchids left and right. We foud two very pale spikes, not var. alba, but almost.

Snap.

We had to leave the site by the lower gate and then walk along the lane as the main logging track was blocked off, we could just get round it by taking this. I'd have got lost ages ago, said Christian. I guess he's right.

We pass the guys working on the drainage, then up the hill the mile back to the car.

This will be the longest and hardest stop I assured him. Let's go to PGD.

I have to admit in leading hm down some of the darker, narrower lanes on the way, just for effect. It worked. But is also pleasant, to have the lanes now as green tunnels boring their way through ancient woodlands. It was like being in The Italian Job, had been filmed in Kent, driven in Audis.

The car park was overflowing. I mean there's only room for four cars there, and three more in the lay by. I have never seen it that busy. Turns out it was the Hardy Orchid Society, more of those in a minute.

We paked in a bank, then walked to the site, where I show Christian a Monkey. And then another. And then another. You get the picture.

As great as they are, there's not that much variation, I have so many MOnkey shots this year, I don't take any.

We catch up with the HOC, and all bar one were not very welcoming. The leader especially.

When I said I was going to look for Musk, I was told that:

They fower in August.

And not here.

Pointing the other side of the upper path.

I assured them that I have seen them in flowr in May before, but they doubted me.

Christian, having got all the Monkey and Fly shots he needed said we could go, so we did. Next stop was the Late Spider.

We drove to the Devil's Kneading Trough, allowing Christian to park his car there, then get in with me as there is very limited parking at the site. Indeed when we arrive a large Audi was there, but just enough room for a mini-Audi to get in too.

Turns out it was a memeber of my group, Graham and his wife, Mandy, also here to see the LSOs.

We chat and take shots. Lots in flower, in fact more than there were cages for, so some when commando.

Graham asked if he could join me on my trip on Friday, so that was set in stone, and as it was half twelve, Chris and I went to the pub for a pint and some lunch.

The beer was fine, but the "deconstructed" fish and chips wasn't as good as I hoped. Still, I ate it, battered fish skin and all, though left the trapeziod of jelly, unsure of what part of a fish that might have been.

Chris was pooped. Three days orchiding and driving meant he was done. His brother in law lived the other side of the county, and instead of orchiding on Thanet, he went to Tunbridge Wells, especially once I said going to Thanet would add 45 minutes onto his trip there later, and staying there would save him half an hour the next for off his drive back to Preston.

And I turned for home, also shattered.

I drove slowly and across country, passing through familiar villages and churches. I arrived home at three, made a brew and set about reviewing my shots of the day.

Amazing day.

Dinner was to be chorizo hash, and it was all coming together well until I opened the drawer and found there was no chorizo.

I adapated, and defrosted some wile garlic sausages, fried them after cutting into slices, and made the hash as before.

And it came out very well indeed.

Yay, me.

I had a glass or two of the posh wine to celebrate.

My week off is coming to an end, but I have done most of what I wanted.

And that was that. Another day over, some excitement, and sharing the orchid passion.

Great, great day.

Wednesday 25th May 2022

I am aware that this week is a bit orchid-centric. It happens at this time of year. Might return to normal next week, but then I am planning on visiting Kenfig Reserve then, so who knows?

But then again, so read these just for orchids.

So, something for everybody, I hope. Always amazes me that people read my words to be honest. But there you go.

I had so much planned for this week, and then the weather doesn't play ball, so Mondya was a washout, half of Tuesday too. So, time for catch up.

I think I was out and abaout early as the forecast was for sunshine early on, so I wanted the best of it, and my target was Sandwich Bay and the Lizards.

My Republican mind has been settled as the estate is not owned by the 15th Earl or Baron or somewhere, but is a trust of those who live there, and the money generated by tolls ploughed back to look after the estate.

What's not to like?

Well, I became a member of the Bird Observatory this year, meaning I don't have to pay to get onto the estate at all.

Which is nice.

I drove over to Sandwich, then through the housing estate to the, er, estate, no one at the booth, but I had my pass. I drove through and parked at the observatory.

I grabbed my camera, and walked back over the main road, across the meadow, before turning right to check on any sleepy dragon or damselflies that might be waking up.

None found.

Though I did surprise a family of rabbit, nibbling at the grass. I snapped one of the babies.

Just like that.

Back to the path and across the golf course, with just a couple of hard core ball-whackers out in their plus-fours and jumpers. I nod to them and cross the fairway. In theory they have to give way to me.

I saw the first Lizards, just spikes beginning to turn green, along with three spikes of wild asparagus. I resit the temptation to break one off, no matter how sweet it might be, as it needs to mature and produce the next generation.

Also at the Bay are Broomrapes.

Broomrapes are parasitic plants that leach on the roots of other plants. Many have specialised in a particular host plant, like ivy or knapweed. But here, a very rare species have bedstraw as its host, and emit a faint smell of cloves. So have the common name, clove-scented broomrape. I find the first spike at the edge of the fairway, so I lean to to sniff the plant to confirm the clove smell, and got it confirmed.

In fact, the dunes were covered with dozens of spikes of the same plant, by far the best display I have ever seen.

Lizards are going to have a good year, as long as dog-walkers don't park their cars on them. But there are hundreds and hundreds of spikes, so no real danger of them dying out.

I walked all the way down to the entrance to the other golf course, but could find no Bee Orchids, but a few Pyramidals were out, and everywhere there were Lizards.

I walk back to the path entrance, then across the golf course where a few more golfers were about, I stopped to let a pair take their shots. I'm sure they had a great time, but not as good as me, broomrapes and orchids, and walking.

I get back tot he car, then drive off the estate, back through the town to the by-pass and back to Dover so I could have some breakfast.

The wind really got up, and cloud rolled over. It would have been easy to stay indoors for the rest of the day, but I decide to go to Braham to check on the Ladies in the woods.

First I went to the site near the old railway bridge, go up the track as I seem to remember seeing lots of Fly spikes a couple of years back. I found no fly, but over 20 White Helleborine, all in tip top condition.

I take shots of a couple, check out for any Sword-leaved, then walk back to the car and drive to the wood.

It was getting very gloomy, but I went off, found the White Lady, thought looking very sorry with many of the newer flowers having either been nibbled or fallen off.

I check a few more spikes, but to be honest, I have photographed so many Lady Orchids this season, when do you stop?

I walk back to the car, and a gentle rain was being whipped by the wind. So, I take myself back to Barham, then onto the A2 and home via Barfrestone, where a sign says that due to theft the church will remain closed for the foreseaable future.

So sad.

I get home, have a brew, and keep my coat on. I have to get the washing in as sheets of rain sweep down the valley. It felt like November.

I am getting pooped.

I make a brew, then prepare dinner; courgette fritters with an extra shake of curry powder. They come together quickly, a quick mix, a spash of lime juice, and done.

Just wait for Jools to come home and begin cooking spoonfuls of gloop into gold, crispy snacks. We eat them still hot, I open a bottle of wine, and all is wellw ith the world.

I get a message in the evening, could I show a guy round some orchid sites in the morning?

Yes. Yes I could.

Tuesday 24th May 2022

An improved day, weatherwise, but still unsettled.

But, let's see how much I could get done before the rain clouds and thunderstoms came.

After coffee, Jools went swimming, and I had breakfast and then set off for Faversham.

I had arranged to meet friends there, so we could go and see the original Monkey Orchid site. Last time I tried two weeks back, I got confused and doubted myself, but having consulted maps, I realised I was heading in the right direction after all.

So, I was to meet Fran, Ian and Terry in the car park at Sainsubury's at nine. Meaning I had a slow start, caught up on writing and editing. And at eight fifteen, after filling up the feeders, I loaded the car and set off.

Traffic was heavy, but I made it to the car park by five to nine, Terry was there and soon Fran arrived, but no Ian. Seems that he thought we would be somewhere the other side of the county, so wasn't coming. Not quickly anyway.

We all pile into my car, and drive out of the town, then down a narrow lane, parking at a narrow parking space in a small wood.

Here we are.

Terry and Fran trusted me, just as well as it looked like any other bit of wood in the area. But there was a path to follow, and then a fence. Before finally coming to a stile, and from the top of that, multiple cages could be seen.

This was the original Kent Monkey site, and although not as many spikes as last year, certainly more than on my first visit in 2016 when the Moneky x Man hybrid appeared.

So, we went from cage to cage, checking out each spike in turn, before I decide which was the best, I tke the cage off so we could all snap the spike and head.

Once we had all got our shots, we retraced our steps back to the car, then turned round to head to Folkestone.

I wanted to check on the Serapias vomeracea, so we spit into two cars, and headed back across the county, turning down ever narrower lanes until we came to the small fenced paddock, where there was a trail cam warning sign to ensure we all stayed the right side of the fence. I looked in and saw two spikes, not as far advanced as I hoped, and at least a week from opening.

We got shots, and said goodbye to Terry who headed home, and I took Fran back to Faversham, dropping her off so she could back to looking after her Mother.

What to do?

Well, it was raining in Faversham, but looked brighter to the east, so I decided to go to Pegwel Bay to check on the yellow Man Orchid and hunt for Bees.

I stopped off to fill the car and buy something for lunch, sausage roll and a Cornish pasty did it for me, which I ate as I cruised along Thanet Way, heading east. And as I drove, the clouds lifted and the sun came out. But there was a threat of rain, so I would have to be quick.

I parked at the Viking Ship, walked down the steps to the abandoned hoverport, then down to the right place, where about 30 bright yellow Man Orchids were just looking fabulous.

Although I saw no Bee nor any Southern Marsh, but I knew where I would find some of the latter nearby....

A short drive away, I parked the car and crossed the main road. Walking down the path, I was sure I would see some spies, but none. But knew where to look. An open space, I picked my way across, and found three different spikes: Common Spotted, Southern Marsh and the hybrids between the two. And amazingly, I could tell them apart, for the most part.

And that was that.

All around, huge thunderheads were forming, showers having washed dust from the atmosphere meant the light sparkled, but there was clearly some heavy rain and maybe thunder on the way. I turned for home.

I reviewed the shots taken, and made a brew.

Two brews.

For dinner, I made the brandy butter last seen on the beef of Sunday, this time for chicken, pan friend in il, then the butter added, with cooked rice poured i to soak up the juices.

A triumph.

I even opened a bottle of wine.

Cheers.

No thunder came, but we had heavy rain, snshine and rainbows.

Tired by half eight, I retired to bed, read for ten minutes and flaked out.