Thursday 30th March 2023

First of all, news about Jools's sister. She has Pneumonia​ in one lung, but the antibiotics are working. She is chippier, sitting up and facing her situation.

So, all pretty much good news.

And apart from that?

Well, wind, rain, warm temperatures and work. Always there's work.

Again Jools decided not to go to the pool, instead she left for work early as she was to end work early to, to go to the hospital.

I make a second coffee, and, well, you know the rest.

Plans as of midday yesterday were:

Easter (4 day weekend).
Valancia, Spain.
May Day weekend..
Coronation weekend.
Dublin.
Aarhus. Auditing.
Week off, general orchiding.
Tour of northen Englalnd, extreme orchiding.
May Day weekend.
Swallowtail butterfly trip to Nofolk.
Svalbard (via Oslo)

That is the next ten weeks, up to the end of the third week in June.

And then in the afternoon the trip to Denmark got scrubbed, which is just as well, really.

So, I plough through work, basing it on agreements made earlier in the week. Once completed I was told those agreements no longer held, so four hours work down the tube.

Sigh.

Even if work's not gorn well, leisure time will be.

Which is good.

Anyway, I bake some bread for my lunch, and in a show of skill, I make it all platted like. Right fancy.

I make three small slices smothered in butter disappear.

And that is it, really. Until the evening and when Jools comes back, I make fritters for dinner, we drink wine, and that's that.

Its light now until just about half seven, but the weather wasn't much for walking in, so we listen to Marc on the wireless and wait for the storm to arrive, which will be overnight.

Bloc rockin beats

The UK is poised to join the pan-Pacific Trade Bloc, CPTPP.

A quick look at the members will show how stupid this looks.

It may not be much of a surprise, maybe except to Dominic Raab, to realise the UK is thousands of miles from the Pacific, and that membership of it will not make that much difference to the slump the uK now finds itself in.

It has been suggested that in being a member of CPTPP, the UK could not rejoin the EU, so it is seen as some clever political move by the Brexiteers in Government. But of course, if a country can join a Bloc, it can leave.

At best, the UK economy will be boosed by 0.08% by joining CPTPP, a mere drop in the (Pacific) ocean compared to the damage done by Brexit.

If joining this trade Bloc to amplify our nation's voice, then the same could be said for joining, or rejoining, one much closer to home?

Wednesday 29th March 2023

Not sure how much I said over the last two days abaout Jools's sister. But, the similarities between how Mum and she have lived their lives and their respective healths have gone down, is too close to be ignored.

I spent 20 years trying to get Mum to change, without any effect. Jools has learned that over the last decide with her sister.

A friend once hated the sentiment behind "cruel to be kind", but in the end if you're not willing to take the first steps needed, then any amount of effort on the part of friends and family will not matter a jot.

Its because I have seen this before that maybe I'm so hard, but Jools sees it too.

The update on Wednesday was that she had had tests, though no results as yet.

Jools, Mike, Jen and Jo are taking it in turns to go each day. So, She gets a new visitor each day, and hopefully moving towards leaving hospital over the weekend.

But we shall see.

Otherwise it was a normal Wednesday. One on which Jools did not go swimming, as she feels a bit washed out still. So, we lay in bed until its getting light near six.

Not much to report, really.

Get up, get dressed, have coffee, and soon enough its time for work. Jools leaves and I get the computer out and log on.

And so on with the day.

It might be the last week in March, but it still feels cold, and in the garden there is precious little advance in the state of the garden plants I check each and every day. I also fill up the feeders, and in the trees around the neighbourhood, the birds squark their approval.

So, to work.

Not much to report. Just plans for the next few months to firm up. Flights and hotels to book. Although most is as yet to be confirmed, the trip to Dublin in May is ON. My Grandfather on Mum's side was of Irish descent, related to the Beamish brewers. I have never been to Ireland, bing in the RAF and being a viable target for the IRA meant we couldn't really go.

So, that's something to look forward to.

Anyway, once work was done, I decide to go for a walk, as this was supposed to be the sunniest it would be all week. Says a lot about the rest of the week.

With my back still giving me gip, I walk along the street, over the fields to Fleet House and check the lane beyond where is goes down beside the farm.

Muddy.

So, I turn round and come back along Collingwood and down the lane to home.

4,000 steps, but better than nothing.

Back home to prepare dinner which was the fine and ever dependable chorizo hash. And beer.

No football to listen to or watch this week, but things will ramp up from Friday with game on the tellybox almost every night between now and the end of May.

Tuesday 28th March 2023

A quick update on Jools's sister: She is at least in an actual bed, although no tests had been done on Tuesday. Mike did the family duty and went to visit. Not much else to say, but the fact things are going so slow shows they don't think its anything serios.

Maybe.

We laid in until five to seven, then rushed around to be ready for work, though obviously nwe were both going to be late. Jools mailed the office, ahd a shower then left.

I felt off pretty much all day, unable to be enthused with much at all to be honest.

Rain fell for most of the day, especially in the afternoon, just when I had planned to go for a walk. So I didn't.

As I said, not much to report in work, nor much at home either. Cats are more trouble when its either wet or windy, otherwise they go out, let out some of their energy, then come back in and sleep until late in the afternoon.

I watched the last of the videos in which a couple visited every railway station on the mainland UK, 2,500 or more, over the course of six months. Geoff is able to make a living from making the videos via YouTube. I have to say, although I love trains, spending three months on them to visit every station seems a bit obsessed, but then they did it.

The next flowers to bloom in the garden still hadn't popped, so I go round trying to snap something to post.

The weather closes in, so I sit on the sofa with Scully, she fell asleep purring and snoring as usual.

I cook dinner, once I know Jools is coming straight home and not via the hospital. We eat and have wine or cider, toast ourselves, and tuck in.

Another day done, with Wales in the tellybox, and me sitting beside Scully once again.

Monday 27th March 2023

Pay day.

I don't mention Jools's sister much, this is because its Jools's family, not mine. But there has been a whole load of shit going on over the last few years.

About a decade ago she had cancer, was caught just in time, she recovered and promised to change.

She didn't.

She lives her life on how she wants to, so that she doesn't scialise with the Jools or Mike, meaning we can go 12 months without seeing her.

But she has been not getting better, getting worse, for some time.

Like with my Mother, we cannot beg, demand, ask, people to change. They have to want to. Her situation is so like MUm's, its pretty scary, only she is two decades younger.

Before Christmas, things came to a head with her and her flatmate, but then they denided any issues, so we took a step back.

First thing Monday morning before Jools left for work, there was a call from Mike; their sister had fallen getting out of bed, and had been stuck beside the bed for close to 18 hours. She was waiting for an ambulamce.

Nothing we could do, so Jools went to work. On the way we were told the ambulance had arrived and she was on the way to Ashford hospital.

Monday.

And I was washed out.

Clambering up and down the bank on Saturday: mainly up the embankment if truth me known, had taken its toll on my hips, legs and lower body. On top of that, my left wrist was sprained, and my legs, arms and left side of my face covered with scratches.

Apart from that, I was fine.

And there was work.

Jools decided to lay in, which meant getting up at half six, and I was late logging on for work by ten minutes.

Jools went to bed via Tesco, and peace and quiet settled on the house.

And despite it being the nicest day of the week, I really did not feel up to going for a walk, doubly so as there had been heavy rain over the weekend, meaning the paths and tracks would be muddier than last week.

Once back home, Jools tried to call the hospital to find out about her sister: she couldn't get throug to the main reception, and A&E, the phone rang and rang. In the end, she just went over.

Her sister was stuck on a trolley in a corridor, unable to move, and not having passed water for two day. She is also mostly deaf, and the nurses couldn't make themselves understood. She needed to pass water so they could run tests.

Jools at least was able to relay inomation between her sister and the nurses, a catheter was inserted and so they had something to test.

But that is it.

When Jools left at ten, her sister was still on the trolley in the corridor, unable to drink without help.

But nothing more could be done. So, Jools came home, not getting back until 11.

I sat up, waiting, watching history shows on YouTube.

Sunday 26th March 2023

Start of British Summer Time (BST).

Which, of course, meant Mulder woke me at half five in the morning (BST) meaning it was really half four (GMT), trying to climb out of the bedroom window.

I laid in bed, but sleep would not come, so I was out of bed well before quarter to six, fed the cats, made coffee and checked on the world.

Outside the rain hammered down as predicted, this meant no walking, no photography and no music.

Not only was there very little club football, there was none of our favourite radio shows on 6 Music as they had a festival, meaning all the things I filled up my weekends with were not happening.

The day spread out before me like very thinly spread margarine. Stork Marg at that, too.

On top of that, although Jools was coming home, I had no idea when she was leaving nor when she would be back, so time weighed heavy.

Though I filled the day with something.

Writing, editing shots, breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, lunch afternoon tea.

The rain continued to fall outside.

At one, or just past, I called Jools. She was on the road, on the A34 heading north to the m40. I checked traffic all round the M25 for her and advised her the way to go.

She'd be back at about four, I guessed. Better keep the kettle freshly boiled, just in case.

I got a call at three, she was crossing the Thames on the bridge, would be going down the A2, so would be about an hour.

She arrived back at quarter past four. We swapped our muddy horror stories, then she told us of preparing pigeon, trout and rabbit for their dinners. She did the fish but could not do the others.

They had built shelters, made fire (several ways, and did the kind of things folks used to do before we had Tesco. Though modern knives were used.

Go figure.

She had a great time, though was wet, muddy and very tired. After supper of pizza and beer, she was in bed at half seven and slept through for 11 hours.,

Saturday 25th March 2023

The Robust or Giant Orchid, Himantoglossum robertianum, is a plant of the Mediterranean, I saw many on Rhodes last year, and is of the same family as the Lizard Orchids we see at Sandwich Bay.

As climate change changes the very weather we have, the plants have been moving, northward, and with some already on the other side of the Channel. We have been expecting them for a few years to appear in England, though in Kent, not on the Home Counties.

There is an explanation.

Just as well.

There might have been an orchid fanatic in the area about two decades ago, who, it seems, might have possibly sowed seed of this and Lady Orchid (these elsewhere in Oxfordshire).

Anyway, in 2007, a spike of an unusual orchid was discovered growing beside a footpath, it was identified as a Giant Orchid.

Back in those day, the internet's drum telegraph wasn't as good as it is now, and news didn't really get out, and the plant died out, or was helped to die out.

But it seems those two summers two decades ago produced seed, and those seeds produced several plants.

And these were rediscovered last year, and this time it was BIG news.

I mean not just orchids, but GIANT orchids. Three tall. And rising.

Or not.

Maybe under some conditions they reach three foot, but 18 inches seems to be the max that I have seen, on Rhodes.

The Hardy Orchid Society arranged visits this weekend, as it is a very early flowering species, and I went along.

It meant getting up at five, getting dressed, feeding the cats, making coffee and breakfast, so to be out of the house by six. I loaded the car, set the destination on the phone, and it told me it was two nad a half hours away. If there was no traffic issues, and as this meant going through the Home Counties along the M25, then ths could take up to five hours.

Not much to report, a pleasant morning driving up the M20 to Maidstone then beyond, turning west. Very little traffic on the motorway meaning I made very good time indeed. At Heathrow I turned onto the M4, past Windosr and Eton, and through Reading into Berkshire and finally up the A34 towards Oxofrd and its dreaming spires.

I had time to stop for a coffee and a Cornish pasty before the final half hour drive to the meeting point, a village hall beside an abandoned railway line. A few were already there, names were checked off the list, and at half nine, after an expaination of th history of the plants, or possible history, we set off. Across the playing fields, round the edge of a farmer's field, up the embankment and along.

The orchids are growing on a bank. A steep, grassy bank, and recent rains made it very slippery. I slipped over several times, once badly, I fell headfirst into a bramble patch. I lost my glasses and was scratched and bruised.

I followed some people down a clearish path, which was steep. I had forgotten the walking poles, but I would OK, right?

Wrong. At the end, the path turned sharp right, I put my foot down and next thing I went head first into a bramble bush, headbutting a fencepost on the way. Everything hurt.

I was in a position where I could not get out. I kept sliding back down, until a guy came and lent me a pole, so I could get some purchase and went along the path, but I was shaken.

My walking boots offered no grip, despite being quite new, and I went over again and again. And then I realised I had lost my only pair of glasses. I went back to the brambles, but could not see them.

I was now some thirty feet below one of the orchids, every attempt by me to climb up resulted in me slipping and sliding back down.

Another pole was produced, and with help I got to the orchid, took some shots, before finally someone helped me up to the top of the bank and the path.

There were other plants, but I was done. A combination of conditions, the extreme slope, poor footwear and vertigo made it a miserable visit for me. I was glad to get to the top, have a breather and then limp back to the car.

I ached all over, was covered in mud, and really quite embarassed at how useless I had been.

I drove back to the main road and then to the M4 for the long drive back home.

On the way back from Oxfordshire, I thought about stopping off somewhere to take some church shots.

I'm sure Oxfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Surrey and Sussex have fine churches just off the motorway, but one had stuck in my head, back in Kent, and that Hever.

What I didn't realise is how hard it was to get too.

I followed the sat nav, taking me off the motorway whilst still in Sussex, then along narrow and twisting main roads along the edge of the north downs, through some very fine villages, but were in Sussex.

Would I see the sign marking my return to the Garden of England?

Yes, yes I would.

Edenbridge seemed quite an unexpectedly urban place, despite its name, so I didn't stop to search for an older centre, just pressing un until I was able to turn down Hever Road.

It had taken half an hour to get here.

St Peter stands by the gate to the famous castle, a place we have yet to visit, and even on a showery Saturday in March, there was a constant stream of visitors arriving.

I asked a nice young man who was directing traffic, where I could park to visit the church. He directed me to the staff car park, meaning I was able to get this shot before going in.

The church was worth it, and very welcoming. I got my shots of the details; brasses, glass and memorials before leaving, where I found it pouring with rain again.

I dashed to the car, getting pretty wet, but had made it.

It was another 20 minutes to get back onto the motorway at Wrotham, passing a few places it would very good to revisit in the summer. But for now I just wanted to get back home.

I went to Jen's so she could drop me home and then have the car. She laughed when I told her of my misadventures. But I had done it.

Back home I fed the cats, filled the bird feeders and made a brew.

And relax.

Dinner was sausages, fried potatoes and Boston beans, but with normal radio cancelled for the weekend due to the festival, and football on an international break, not much to listen to, so I messed around until it was time to go to bed at nine.

Friday 24th March 2023

We had a car each now, at least for the weekend. And Jools was more of a blur this morning, packing the car, having a cuppa and getting showered and dressed before leaving for yoga at just gone six.

Do you have a coat, I asked, as she was heading out of the door. Oh, good idea.

Weather is always a lottery here in England, but this weekend has heavy showers and clear spells, the ground would already be muddy.

And she was gone.

It was me and the four cats, and two and a half days together.

But first, there was work.

I put the bins out and made myself busy, then set up the office and logged on, answered the urgent mails and when it was quiet, made another coffee and had breakfast.

Outside it was a glorious, sunny morning. I went out to take shots in case the forecast was right and clouds rolled in over the afternoon.

Which is what happened.

The garden is waking up more each day, with new flowers opening daily. I snap them, check in on the tadpoles, checked on our orchid, and all was well.

I had lunch, had a call with my boss. And that was that.

Now, for shopping.

Best do it before schools kicked out. In fact, it was fine, most stuff i wanted was in stock, so I whizzed round getting stuff off the list, then waiting in line at the till as I had no clubcard, packing like a pro, paying and coming home. I put all the shopping away, myself. As Jools wasn't here.

For dinner was katsu chicken curry. And wine.

Which was pretty good I had to say.

I then had to wash up, put the badger food out and the rest of the chores.

I drank more wine while watching some history shows, and then to bed at nine, as there was an early start in the morning!

Eeek!

Thursday 23rd March 2023 (part 2)

When I wrote Thursday's post yesterday evening, I had clean forgot the reason why i couldn't remember what I cooked for dinner.

As I cooked nothing.

Because Jools and I were on our travels, both to Oxfordshire over the weekend, we both needed a car as we were going off the beate track. We could either rent a car, or we could ask to borrow Jen's.

We asked Jen and she said yes, so we needed to pick up the car on Thursday evening as Jools was leaving forst thing in the morning, and Jen and John when to the Rock Rose for their weekly treat of steak and chips. We could meet them there, and either I or John could take her back home. In fact Mike and Helen were coming too, so we would all meet at half six at the Rock Rose.

Oh yes, the Rock Rose.

The Rock Rose is what is called a "family" pub. Its something about McDonalds and Burger King, but not a real pub, a new build place that does "pub fayre" at reasonable prices, so much so families are welcomed.

We drove to Whitfield in a strm, the rain came down in sheets. We parked near the door and scampered in, waiting for Mike, Helen, Jen and Jon to arrive, we were shown to our table, a table for six, down in the family end of the building. IN an area behind us, one huge family, or several families were celebrating a child's birthday, the parents ignored the children, while the children used the pub as their playground.

I suppose we could have asked to move.

And we were all children at one time or another. But as a child, I wasn't allowed to run around causing mayhem and noise for other diners. Oh no, that would not do.

Trying to ignore the noise and pretend it was a normal evening, Jools and I had a cavery, whilst the others ordered steak, meaning we had to wait for theirs to arrive before going to the counter to get our food, all dry as it was under the heating lamps. And by the time we returned, they had already half finished.

Once we had eaten, Jools took our car home, and I drove Jen's. Again the rain was hammering down and it was dark, in our car the lights come on automatically, Jen's did not.

I was halfway along the bypass when a combination of flashing lights and toots on the horn made me pull over and try to find the swtch for the lights.

None of the switches made the lights come on.

A guy had stopped behind me, and he came over. He said he was a Toyoata mechanic, he reached in and rotated a ring around the switches and the lights came on.

I drove home, unkilled and unharmed.

I'll take that as a win.

Why do every car manufacturer have to design things differently? I once sat in a Merc in a dark car park for an hour trying to find the gear shift, only for it to be on the steering wheel column.

Pah!

Thursday 23rd March 2023

Another day nearer the weekend.

But not quite the weekend.

Each day I look at my calendar until the end of week 24 and I see just two more 5 day working weeks.

Which is nice.

Andone of those is next week.

Wwah ha hah.

Jools was thinking about going swimming. But didnt go. She had a shower and a slow start to the weeken instead.

I did wake up when she did, but Cleo got off my legs, I turned over and went back to sleep for half an hour.

As you do.

She went off at seven, I started work, made a second coffee and had breakfast.

It was a day of sun and rain. Sun in the morning, rain in the afternoon. In fact a lot of rain in the afternoon. Which did mean by the time work finished, and I had tme to walk, it was pissing down.

So, in a bid to bond with Poppy, I sat in the upstairs office hoping she would come and see what I was doing, which she does when Jools beads up there. But she sat on the chest of drawers in the big bedroom the other side of the house, and did not come to say hello. Or check out what I was doing.

So I read the rest of WSC, while rain hammered down the windows outside, and there was no sign of the fox.

Dinner was fritters. Or was it hash? I have no idea now, and my muse, Jools, is on the other side of the country, so can't ask her.

I watched Englad huff and puff against Italy, winning 2-1. Not as good as it sounds.

Wednesday 22nd March 2023

January seemed to last a year.

February lasted a week.

And March is marching by at quite a lick.

Next week it will be April, and the week after that, Easter.

And soon after we shall be on our travels, off to that Spain for some culture. And butterflies. And orchids. This weekend Jools is going on a forraging course in deepest Wiltshire and will leave home to go to yoga and then work at six on Friday and not be back home until Sunday afternoon, so she needed to pack and have all her clothes washed and all the kit packed and so on, because we're eating out on Thursday for reasons.

And time would run out.

So, Wednesday evening she was busy doing all that, and during the day I had done the washing. In that I had switched the washing machine on and when that was done, transferred the wet washing to the dryer. Not like when Mum used to spend all Monday as slave to the twintub.

Anyway, a busy day, and not walking weather I decided.

Another long day at work, and I had planned to go for a walk, but late afternoon rain put a stop to that.

I went out into the garden with the compact, no new flowers blooming, but soon we will have Pasques, Snakesheads, Crown Fritillaries, tulips and Cowslips,

But not yet.

Fritters for dinner. And wine.

That was all.

Post Brexit politics

Chris Grey posed the question as to what post-Brexit politics would be like: would be continue to be as poisonous and hateful towards the EU, or would there be a more pragmatic relationship?

It is too early to tell, but almost certainly we saw if not two political deaths, then two political ends.

If that makes sense.

Most people who watched the sessions from Westminster yesterday will not be surprised if Johnson were to shrink into the political shadows, revealled as he was as someone who never takes the blame and refuses to accept the truth, even when presented with the evidence. Indeed, if Johnson had been as nimble as a cat yesterday under questioning, the front pages would have been full of his victory.

If were at cat, then it was Garfield.

Instead, the sounded triumphant, but the reality was their man took one hell of a beating. And the heaviest blows were struck by Conservatives on the seven person committee, including Harriet Harman as Chairwoman.

What yesterday did confirm was that as the nation mourned and were locked down, so not to make each other ill, in Downing Street they were patrying like it was, well, 1999. That can never be undone, and it was all done under Johnson, with his, if not approval, then he did nothing to stop the gatherings and parties.

In a political doubleheader, as well as the Fall of Johnson, there was the vote on the "Stormont Brake", renegotiated NIP. Johnson grandly announced he would be voting against the improved versio of his WA. And it is better than his, and he did indeed vote against it.

Johnson did hope that this would lead to a huge rebellion by like-minded COnservatives who would rally round his flag. The usual suspects did: Truss, JRM, Priti Patel, the DUP. Oh yes, the DUp, the only NI party to want Brexit and yet has voted against every version of it in the Commons, without coming up with a version they liked that would work.

Anyway, I digress.

So, just 20 Conservatives rebelled, and the 9 DUP MPs. That's the combined Cult of JOhnson, the ERG and the DUP. They used to have over a 100 likeminded souls. Not any more. Even the self-styled "hard man of Brexit", Steve Baker voted with the Government, of which he is now a senior member of. And he stated that all MPs should vote with the Government, even Johnson, or be a "Pound Shop Farrage".

How times change.

And they might change again, of course. But I would like to think we are all tired of fighting the Brexit Wars, and just want to retire and grow old, like all soldiers of faith and fortune do.

The first step is the hardest. That has been taken, and the Brexiteers know it. Sunak, for all his faults, has shown what being a trustworthy negotiating partner can achieve. May we never go back to Johnson and (Sir) David Frost.

The prosecution rests

DAG wrote a post a few months ago about hyper-partisanship, where a person, or newspaper, etc, will carry on unwavering support for someone else, or a political party, reporting on in favour of their chosen one, ignoring even documented evidence to the contrary.

Yesterday, Alexander Boris de Piffel Johnson was cross-examined by the Parliamentary Privileges Committee, where hour by hour his shells of lies were broken down until he was revealed as a naked lying man-baby.

But the Mail this morning, on its front page, has a piece by Sarah Vine (Gove) that says: “Harman’s face was thunder. Boris was agile as a cat. Pure box office, but after four hour nit-picking, had a single mind been changed?”

The reality was that it was revealed and accepted by Johnson that the assurances he gave at the Dispatch Box that all rules were followed were not after discussions and meetings with his legal team, medical officers, but his chief of staffs, one of which denied such a conversation had taken place, while the other said such an assurance related to just one gathering, not them all.

Johnson admitted he had mislead the House, but denied to correct the record as hand on heart, he believed he did right.

This is further contempt of Parliament and of the Committee.

He questioned the authority and aim of the Committee, insulted the Chairperson, and shouted insults near the end, his legal team headed by Lor Pannick drew a sharp intake of breath and shook his head.

Johnson did not think the rules that he told us several times a week at the nightly news conference applied to him or Downing Street, it seems that for the most part, he was the only one in the building who thought that laws and guidance had been followed at all time.

But without accurate reporting of the events, how can the public be expected to be informed? Once great papers of record are now just Tory Pravda, repeating without question the party lies.

So, did he mislead Parliament? Yes, and he admitted it, though he says he believed he was right anyway.

Did he correct the record at the earliest opportunity? No. Clearly not, and again when offered to correct the record in the Committee Room, he refused.

Because of the local elections in May, the report will not be published until after those, and then once published, The Commons will have to decide on what sanctions, if any, are appropriate.

In the end, Johnson allowed parties and social gatherings inside Downing Street while people in the rest of the country could not be at the bedside of family and loved ones when they died, beside their partners at the birth of their children because they believed it was the right thing to do, because the Government said it what was supposed to be done to protect the nation.

There were no allowances for “work bubbles”, there were no allowances for “morale boosting” gatherings as people left to join other departments. Doctors and nurses worked all hours in impossible conditions whilst watching patients die one after the other.

They had no parties.

Tuesday 21st March 2023

And so to Tuesday.

And a day on which myself and my colleague, Henrik, scored our biggest triumph since returning to the big company. Its only taken two years, and the details I cannot share with you because of work, but was every bit as fabulous and jaw-dropping as I'm making it sound.

The day started with a lay-in, then rain, breakfast, but then cleared up and by three, there was sunshine, clouds blowing the clouds away.

During what is expected to be the week's only sunny spell, out walking while listening to a football podcast, and seeing what was in flower, whilst trying not to slip over in the mud.

I walked up Station Road, past the war memorial and then down to Collingwood and down the track connecting to our street.

Not much else to report; no butterflies seen, the same wild flowers in bloom, and it was cold.

Between getting up and the walk was work: three meetings, one in which people took valid criticism as a personal slight, as I guessed they wood, and another in which the FNG sided with those of us who knew what we were talking about.

I'll take that as another win.

Dinner was chorizo hash. And beer. Or cider.

Then the first half of the Barnsley v Sheff Wednesday game before going to bed as Cleo was sitting on the stairs, all impatient, like.

I almost forgot the fox incident: during the afternoon a different fox to the tail-less one from the day before, came to eat at the ground feeder, and made short work of most of the peanuts. Then later appeared from behind the fence to the left of the back door, and just sat and stared. Jools gave him a pack of food, which it ate in short shrift, then he came to the door, so we gave him another packet of cat food, which again was eaten.

Not seen anything like it before.

Twenty years

Twenty years ago yesterday, the second Gulf War started.

I was still in the RAF then, and I knew war was coming.

I returned to work after the Christmas and New Year break, and was called into the Flight Sergeant's office, where I was told that Dave Boxhall and I were to be part of the first deployment and to go to stores to collect kit.

All change.

For the first war, the MOD had bought way too much kit, and we used lots that was out of date in drills. So, they were not going to make the same mistake second time around. There was almost no kit. One of the things we needed were non-drill cannisters for our gas masks, as the ones we had were just for drill, like with tear gas. They had enough for one each, which we would have to change if there was gas used, or the one we were using got wet.

We were assured there would be supplies "in theatre".

Hmmm.

Here's the thing about the Air Force: we are a fighting force, but its the officers in their shiny and dangerous planes that do the fighting and warring, we just maintain them, prep weapons and drink team and play Uckers. We know that if came down to the fact we had to defend our airfield than shit had gone badly wrong, and anyway, airfields were hundreds of miles, usually, behing allied lines.

So we then had to go on a crash course on patrolling, cooking 24 hour rations and the such. It was all so suddenly real. The plan was for ground forces to enter the country and take Iraqi airfrields, and we would deploy there and then conduct operations.

Sounded well dangerous.

We were told to pack pour kit and be ready to move at two hours notice. We had to have our mobile with us 24 hours a day, and there would be serious consequences if we did not respond.

I had to go to the Army and Navy shop in Norwich to get the kit I would need to be able to live: head torch, knife, etc, etc.

Then we waited.

And waited.

My friends on base who were in bomb disposal, then went and deployed, and in their armoured carrier were run over by an American tanks and were badly injured.

Back in England, we waited.

And waited.

Planes from our base could only carry one bomb, it was designed as a trainer after all, so when Turkey banned NATO planes from using its bases, pads were in short supply, so the Jags, and us had to wait.

And wait.

In the end, 73 days after standing to, we were stood down. Shock and awe had won out.

Later that year, I was on a training course in preparation for leaving the Mob, and I was talking to an Army NBC NCO who said when they went into Iraq that first night, his troop had 10 rounds on the magazine loaded, with the order to make contact with any American unit to ask for any spare they might have.

Sadly, this was the reality.

That's before we get to the lgality of it all. Don't get me started.

And then there is the tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civillians who were killed or wounded so Bush JR could have a war.

At stake

Whatever happens in the Commons committee rooms this afternoon, what is at stake is the basic premis:

That a Minister, or Prime Minister, musk make accurate and truthful submissions at the dispatch box.

Parliant debates and votes on many things, including whether to go to war. A Prime Minister, making a statement they know to be untrue or inaccurate, but happy to know that at some point in the future, once the war has begun or been waged, a statement correcting the record can be made, and that is that.

Parliament makes laws and decisions on Ministers statements, and they should be truthful.

That a known liar like Alexander Boris de Piffel Johnson made untruthful or inaccurrate statements and then failed to correct the record should surprise no one, but as the Prime Minister who stodd in front of the cameras several times a week explaining the laws and guidance we were to follow and yet he failed to see when those same laws and guidance were broken in the very building he lived and worked in, or that those rules did not apply to him, is just not credible.

Maybe like with Al Capone, it wasn't being a gangster that got him in the end, it was not paying taxes, so it might be with Johnson that it is not the lying, but the failure to correct the record that gets him.

We shall see.

Kick off is at 14:00 and is live on the UK Parliament website.

It was sixty years ago

That John, Paul, George and Ringo taught the world how to rock.

The Beatles were the first band to record their own compositions, though the first two albums had cover versions.

They were lucky enough to work with George Martin who was able to create the sounds in the studio the band wanted as the years went on.

They were a tight band due to the fact they had learned to play in the late 50s in the Quarrymen, a skiffle group, then two years in Hamburg playing eight hours a day made them a great band.

It is easy to dismiss the Beatles, but they went from Love Me Do to Let it be in under seven years.

Twist and Shout to Give Peace a Chance.

For the avoidance of doubt, Penny Lane is the greatest piece of popular music. A walk down a street in five verses.

Popular music should have given up then.

Monday 20th March 2023

The weekend was over once again.

It was to be a slow start to the week, with Jools deciding to go swining on Tuesday, so lay in to near six on Monday.

I wake soon after five, and already there is light at the window, so far we are through the year, though on Sunday the clocks go forward and we gain an extra hour of light in the evening, though mornings will be darker. For a while.

I look out of the bathroom window and see a fox feeding from the ground feeder. It was just light enough to get a shot, but oddly enough it seemed to be missing its tail, and had clearly some kind of injury to its hindquarters. It ate well, and watched us looking on from the open back door.

We have coffee, check the interwebs and find that the same shit is going on.

Jools goes for a walk, I set up the office, and so begins another working week.

Not much to report, just the same as ever, but now with not enough time to arrange travel before Easter, and after East comes our trip to Spain. In fact, this week is the first of our travels, with Jools going on a bush craft weekend in the wilds of Wiltshire, she leaves Friday lunchtime and won't be back until Sunday afternoon, while I am off on my first orchid trip of the year, seeing a new UK speaies, though planted, in Oxfordshire. So, I will be away most of Saturday, though should be back by dark.

Outside it was dull and cold again, meaning I would easily be persuaded into not going for a walk later.

I do venture intot he garden to fill the bird feeders and check on the pond. The first of the spawn had hatched, and the little wrigglers were out exploring.

We're parents again!

I wish I could say there was more interestng stuff, but this is the way of the world. I think that in the forthcoming weeks and months I will be travelling most weeks. So, not knowing if I will be coming or going.

But that is for another time.

I did finish work at three, but didn't watch any history on the tellybox, but somehow I frittered away the afternoon until it was time to cook dinner; boiled chicken and rice with smoked bacon. Somple but tasty. And filling.

No footy in the evening, just music and coffee.

One day down for the week.....

Partygate latest

Alexander Boris de Piffel Johnson's statement for the Privilidges Committee:

"I did not intentionally or recklessly mislead the House on 1 December 2021, 8 December 2021, or on any other date. I would never have dreamed of doing so,"

The liar said.

"The Committee also now appears to be alleging that it was in some way reckless for me to rely on assurances that I received from trusted advisers. That allegation is unprecedented and absurd."

He blustered.

"I was the prime minister of the country, working day and night to manage the government's response to the Covid-19 pandemic. It was self-evidently reasonable for me to rely on assurances that I received from my advisers.

"The suggestion to the contrary would have profound and debilitating implications for the future of debate in the House, and for the ability of ministers to rely on the advice of their officials when answering questions in Parliament."

He said is trying to divert blame for his own actions.

"A suggestion that we would have held events which were "obviously" contrary to the rules and guidance, and allowed those events to be immortalised by the official photographer is implausible," added the wannabe King of the World.

Or, as Russ Jones states it:

There were no parties
- Ok, there were parties but I didn't know
- I knew, but didn't attend any parties
- Yes, I attended, but only cos I was ambushed with cake
- There was no cake, but the parties were unplanned
Yes, we bought a 42 bottle fridge and had a DJ set and hot catered food at the "unplanned" party, but I didn't start it
- Yes, fine, I started it, but didn't know it broke rules
- Ok, fine, I set the rules and explained them on TV, so how was I meant to know them?
I lied a bit, but only cos nobody told me the rules
- No, not even when Sue Gray was investigating me
- Or the police were investigating me
- Or when 126 fines were handed down
- I corrected things as soon as I could
- Which is today
[ Pause ]
- I didn't kill that hooker!

Sunday 19th March 2023

Good morning.

Welcome to Sunday, and with the weather to be sunny, if not warm, what to do?

Jools wanted to do some gardening, and I wanted to get out and check on some orchid rosettes.

In other words, after spending most of the week in the house I wanted to get out of it, and Jools after spending the week out of the house, wanted to spend her day in it.

The usual paradox.

We got up late, had breakfast of fruit followed by croissants, I looked out the window and saw sunshine, and wanted to be out.

It wasn't just orchids, but other spring flowers of the woods I wanted: Wood Anemones and Bluebells to be exact, and where better than Earley Wood itself?

None.

I drove out of the village, onto the A2 and out west until I turned off and crawled through Bridge, then off past the site of the ruined station, out across the fields to Stone Street, and just over the other side through Petham, and there, on the left, is the wood.

Normally by now, the ground would be dry and firm, but two weeks of late winter rain and snow have meant mud had returned, and on the paths through the wood it would be heavy going.

I walked down to the first orchid site, taking 5 minutes to find the spotted rosettes, but in the end find a good half dozen, and only one putting up the beginning of a spike. Back along and through the glade to the much longer path, now blocked by fallen trees and branches, I made slow going as my limbo skills are somewhat lacking these days.

I did find a green carpet of Anemones, but only a few flowering, and because of the cloud, none were fully open, but I snap them anyway. And further along a few Bluebells spikes had their tips showing blue, and one or two had flowers.

After much searching I found one spike with more than two flowers, and beginning to bend over like a native plant should.

After finding three more groups of Early Purples, and checked each one, satisfied that there were all at least two weeks from flowering, I turned back for the car, walking through the wood aong a twisting track.

No point in going elsewhere, though Yockletts had been tempting, I got in the car and drove home, beacuse here in the UK it was Mother's Day, and Jen was coming to dinner. We had got steak, so was going to be nice.

A ribeye each, already seasoned and left at room temperature, all ready for cooking at one, once Jen came. Both Jools and myself have lost our Mums, so she is the next best thing.

I zap the potatoes, slice them when cooked, then slice and season the mushrooms before cooking them all to come together, all done to a turn at ten past one.

Was all rather good I have to say.

The afternoon was spent on the sofa, trying to stay awake, watching what I thought would be a dull game, Utd v Fulham, which was very much enlivened when Fulham had two players and their manager sent off within 30 seconds.

Made I laugh.

And so, that is all for this weekend. More of the same next, but hopefully warmer.

The week ahead

Not trying to raise your hopes, but.

This week Donald Judas Trump might be arrested.

While here in the UK Alexander Boris de Piffel Johnson is up before the Parliamentary Standards Committee where he might be under oath, and he could find himself suspended from Parliament and then subject to a recall petetion.

And Dooinic Raab is to face news of whether heas is to be found guilty of multiple accusations of bullying.

Its bad enough for Johnson that he faces this, but as a proven liar, its not much of a stretch to suggest and accept he might have lied at the Dispatch Box as PM. He went from asserting there were no parties to it emerging he arranged at least one of them.

There were parties.

There were gatherings.

Both were against the Law and official guidance signed off by Johnson himself.

Not only that, under Parliamentary regulations, any Minister (or PM) who makes an inaccurate statement at the Dispatch Box should correct the official record at the ealiest possibile oportunity. And it is this that could be most problematic for his, as I don't think he ever did, until after accepting the FPN from the Metropolitan Police. The earliest possible oportunity would, at the latest, have been when he received Sue Grey's initial report.

But then, after all that, the Committee which is 5/4 consited of Conservative members have to make the reccommendation, then the Commons would have to ratify that.

Would enough of the Conservative side of the House vote to suspend the former PM? The current Home Secretary has said she would not, as Johnson "is a good leader", though one she resigned from his Government urging Johnson to "resign".

Raab is as gulty as a puppy sitting beside a large pile of poo, and should reqign, but it would probably be down to Sunak to decide if, even then, the Ministerial Code still applied.

Saturday 18th March 2023

38 years ago this morning, I started work at the chicken factory. That came after three years of dole and dead end courses.

Whatever, it all lead me here, living with Jools and the cats in St Maggies.

It all worked out well in end, even if there was no plan.

And so to the weekend again. And what might be the last orchid-free weekend until well into June or even August.

So, enjoy the churches while you can.

Saturday, and not much really planned. We get up at half six with it fully light outside. The cloud and drizzle had not arrived, instead it was pretty clear and sunny.

No time for thinking about going out to take shots, as we had hunter-gathering to do.

In fact, we didn't need much, just the usual stuff to keep us going. That and the car was running on fumes. So we will that up first, and then into Tesco and round and round we go, fully the trolley up. It being Mother's Day on Saturday, we were having Jen round on Sunday, we were to have steak, so I get mushrooms.

And once back, we have breakfast then go to Preston for the actual steak, three ribeyes, all cut from the same stip. Jools had gone to look at the garden centre for ideas as we're going to dig up the raspberries, so just wondering what to put in their place.

By then the rain had come, and so we dashed back to the car, and on the way home called in at two churches.

First off was Goodnestone, just the other side of Wingham.

Its a fine estate church, covered in wonderfully knapped bricks, giving it an East Anglian feel. Before we went in, we sheltered under a tree to much on a sausage roll I had bought at the butcher, that done, we go to the church, which is open.

I have been here quite recently, five years back, and in truth no much glass to record, but I do my best, leave a fiver of the weekly collection and we drove over the fields to Eastry.

St Mary is an impressive church, with carved and decorated west face of the Norman tower, at its base an odd lean-to porch has been created, leading into the church, which does have interest other than the 35 painted medallions high in the Chancel Arch, once the backdrop to the Rood.

I snap them with the big lens, and the windows too. A warden points out what looks like a very much older painted window high among the roof timbers in the east wall of the Chancel.

I get a shot, which is good enough, but even with a 400mm lens, is some crop.

I finish up and we go home, taking it carefully along nearly flooded roads.

Being a Saturday, there is football, though nothing much of interest until three when Norwich kick off against Stoke: could they kick it on a wet Saturday afternoon in the Potteries?

No. No, they couldn't.

Ended 0-0, City second best, barely laid a glove on the Stoke goal.

And then spots galore: Ireland v England in the egg-chasing, Citeh v Burnley in the Cup and Chelsea v Everton in the league, all live on various TV channels.

I watch the first half of the rugby, then switch over when England were reduced to 14, so did enjoy the lad Haarland score another hat-trick in a 6-0 demolition.

And that was that, another day over with.....

Friday 17th March 2023

St Patrick's Day (Ireland and Boston).

So we come to the end of the week, and as has been the case for some time, a day of the week that used to have wall to wall meetings, now doesn't. In fact, when I checked my calendar, I had nothing scheduled.

Which was nice.

Very nice.

Jools didn't go to yoga due to her regular teacher being off, so knowing she woudn't enjoy it, she laid in instead.

Which was also nice.

After a shower and getting dressed, she left for work. I put the bins out and started the day. Outside it was warmer, which was all relative, but without the sun still felt chilly. I was going to go out for a walk, but in the end, didn't.

I ploughed on with work, getting stuff done, and taking calls and queries.

I had made soup earlier in the week with the leftover "Brexit" frozen vegetables. I pepped it with curry powder. Anyway, I had the last of that with the crust of the spicy bread I had also made.

Jools came back at two, and I finished for the day. We had a brew, and then watched more History fo Britain, this time about the Empire, founded on slavery, and made the motherland very rich indeed. And how it lost America defending what it thought was freedom, but was the opposite. And then went to India and completed the task of subjegating a population, brutally putting down any opposition there. There is a battle at the moment here for the truth about the empire, some critising any mention of slavery in the story of Empire.

Slavery and the owning of slaves was, of course, legal here. Even when it became illegal to own slaves here, it was still legal to trade in them elsewhere.

Sigh.

With Jools being away next Friday, we went early to Jen's for a lazy supper and then cards, at which Jools and I were triumphant. We only play for pennies: in Meld the winner (with the fewest points) wins the kitty of 40p, and in Queenie, the pot might be a couple of quid. We're not going to lose the house.

Jools drove us home, the roads quiet, and back home the cats demanding second suppers and then that we go to bed.

It was the weekend.

Thursday 16th March 2023

With the 3rd month of the year half gone, we now have been told our tasks for the year. For me it means many trips to Denmark, Spring in Dublin, summer in the South of France and even a further trip to Portugal.

Am will be going to work, to audit. My only fear is that we are being seen as magicians, to go to wave our magic audit wands to fix their problems. It won't be quite like that, but I and my friends will do our best, of course.

So these weeks at the end of winter, leading up to Easter will be the end of my salad days, end of being home each night with Jools and the cats, well, I won't be away every week, not like when I was on construction projects. But it will come as a shock. And then there is the balancing of the need to be face to face, with the costs. A four day trip to Denmark costs the company £1500, is what I do worth that expense? Doubly so when they company fights like a tiger to pretend what I find is wrong.

I will use trips to travel to meet people, to take photographs of new places and to recce out new places for Jools and I to visit.

Because it suits.

Me and us.

And then there is the possibility of us getting a pay rise. We might get one, but that such talk is now in its thrid month, I don't hold out much hope.

And so back to work, and another working week slips towards its end, and by Friday day and night will be in balance, and after that more sunlight than moonlight.

I am up to date at work, for now, so my task is to be alert, answer mails and phone calls, and be generally the model of efficiency. I also make cups of coffee and tea vanish, as well as oatcakes and the leftover two venison and cranberry sausages as well as frying up the mash too, for a fine lunch.

I could quite happily go to sleep for the rest of the day.

Then, after lunch, in the middle of a meeting with my manager, I was hit my an optical migraine. I don't get headaches, but I can't be sure when it fades each time, whether I will be drained, have a headache or be fine.

Half an hour later I had a dull headache, nothing too bad, but I sat on the sofa with Scully and half watched the story of the English Civil War and then the Glorious Revolution.

The afternoon passed, I packed up the work computer, mixed up the batter for fritters, and cooked them for when Jools came back. Its still light then, just after half five, soon we will go for a walk before dinner. We say this every year, but this year we shall follow through.

We eat, clear up and the day is done. I do little other than sit with Scully, listen to the radio, and go to bed dead on nine.

Wednesday 15th March 2023

Another day working from home.

Another week working from home.

But change is coming.

Soon.

I will be travelling to Denmark several tmes in April and May, and also Dublin, and later to the south of France. All for work, and travel for pleasure between. I think by the end of June I will be glad of a rest at home.

With the sun rising soon after six now, I suggested to Jools she might drop me off in Westcliffe on her way to the pool, and I walk back home.

Which is how I was outside St Peter just after six.

With the path beside the road on grass, we thought it might be better to walk it when frosty.

Well, the frost not so hard and deep as expected, there was a little mud, but after walking round the church and finding the grave of our neighbour and good friend, Bob, I set off along the road.

No buzzards on the poles, but a few flowers out, though the Alexanders were hunkered down due to the cold.

I made good progress and was back home by twenty to seven, enough time to make a brew and be ready for work at seven.

In the team meeting at eight, my prep work was provided as evidence of good work. I promise to never let it happen again! I mean. It was the start of some discussions, and how good a refresher in requirements can be.

The morning slipped by, with me already having done my phys. I had intended to go out again, but the thick dark clouds and cool breeze meant sitting on the sofa with Scully watching the story of Elizabeth I and Mary Queen of Scots kept me awake. That and Scully licking my hand.

Four in the afternoon and time to do the day's washing up and prepare dinner: bangers and mash and home-made Boston beans. Every good as it sounds.

I follow Norwich via Twitter, away at Huddersfield, and City play well in the 1st half but are just the one goal up at half time. Then fail to turn up for the 2nd, and score the Terrier's first goat in 800 minutes of play for them.

Darn it.

Latest on Project Fear

'OBR standing by assumption that Brexit is causing a 15% drop in trade, and 4% fall in productivity';

"We have not revised our view that productivity will be 4 per cent lower in the long run than if the UK had remained in the EU."

#project reality

Tuesday 14th March 2023

Winter is returning. At least for a day with temperatures set to drop be low freezing on Tusday night with calm winds and clear skies. The garden is paused, though some are making the effort to grow with more plants sprouting either in the beds or in the lawnmeadow. And in six weeks we will be in Spain, on our holibobs, drinking sangria and dancing the tango, rose clamped between our teeth. That's Spain, isn't it?

Anyway, we shall see.

For now its work, and for me the final day of my review of compliance requirements against the three main Standards. It seems this task has fired me, and although a third day of it ahead, I knew I had to finish it, so once Jools had left, I got down to it, powered by strong sweet coffee.

It is now getting light at half five in the morning, and the sun rises now just after six in the morning. Even if its not warm like Spring, it looks like Spring, and each morning the sun rises more to the east, so much so that it now rises right along to where Kingsdown Road passes out of view behind the hedges and bushes of our neighbours.

The morning passed really quickly, I had oatcakes and marmalade for lunch, and back to work.

Outside the ligth drizzle of the morning gave way to sunshine, so again at three in the afternoon, I put on my boots and coat and went for a walk. With the return of wet weather thurning the paths and panes back to mud, it means pretty much sticking to just the roads, so fining routes not done before, doubling back. I didn't have my pods as I'm up to date with my podcasts, so went hunting for spring flowers in bloom.

Again.

The light was fantastic, with the fields over towards Westcliffe looking very green indeed.

I took a shot.

Back home to watch another episode of History of Britain, this one all about Henry VIII and his quest to have a male heir. Another lesson in not petting all power rest in one man's hands.

I cook dinner; crispbakes, curried rice and stir fry. Quick and easy. I was singing along to "Saturday Night Beneath the Plastic Palm Trees" by Leightn Buzzards when she came home.

Made I happy.

We ate, washed up and then sat to have coffee. But with no Marc on the Radio I listened to Citeh play in the CL against Leipzig. Looked like it was going to be a close game. Needless to say, Citeh won 7-0, with the lad Haarland scoring 5.