Wednesday 5th July 2017

I woke up with an sore shoulder. Just to be expected really, but also wooly of head, as I could not be sure if it was Tuesday or Wednesday: it felt like a Tuesday, but wasn't there one yesterday?

Jools confirmed that there in fact been a Tuesday yesterday meaning this is Wednesday, halfway through the week and all that.

And I have a day of copying and pasting to look forward to. Again. And in fact, there could be weeks of this ahead, I just hope that it is useful, at least for me anyhow. Jools leaves, meaning its just me and the cats, and they go to sleep for half the day after breakfast, curled up in pools of sunshine on the beds. Yes, that would be a nice way to spend the day.

I make a batch of chili-seeded bread dough to rise through the morning, so I can have something fresh to go with the pastrami in the fridge. Thing is, come lunchtime, the rolls have been made, proved and baked, they are just plain too gorgeous to eat with anything than melted butter and apricot jam on them. THey were wonderful. I had made the rolls with the intention of making rolls in which to put in the fish cakes I had got out of the freezer, but with another roll with the last of jam eaten for a mid-afternoon snack, I was running out of rolls.

I guess I did not sleep to well after all, and come two in the afternoon I could not concentrate, so switch off the computer and sit on the sofa with the Tour de France on quietly in the background. After snoozing for a while, I watch the last 50km and thrilled to see that, bringing all the excitement of the race, and amazed that the poor commentators burble for hours on end, no wonder they end up sprouting rubbish from time to time.

We have dinner once Jools comes home; fish cakes in home made rolls, and it is a triumph, amazing how something simple can be so enjoyable, not too filling so we were able to have another slice of the tart in the evening, as Jols was watching another Dr Who.

And then it came time to pay off the flight and make the final arrangements for the trip next month. It is time for the great reveal, that we are off to the US of A next month, to Colorado and Wyoming, mainly to see the solar eclipse, but also to visit Yellowstone and Little Big Horn National Forest. It has hung in the balance for many months, and we only said we would go a couple of weeks ago. So, we now have 5 and a bit weeks before we fly, and not much time to get excited.

Yes, it is all happening. And get to order some new t shorts for the trip, film related so to be able to have conversations with film geeks. I should have grown up by now, but clealy have failed. If you have failed to grow up by the time you're 50, you shouldn't have to.

Brexit reality bites

There is a saying that the two things you cannot avoid are taxes and death. Well, a third is reality. And reality can come up pretty hard, especially if you are say a Brexiteer making statements about things you really don't understand, because in their mind, that's what makes sense.

But reality, reality is beginning to close in, for example today Micheal Barnier made the following statements which have been widely retweeted.

UK leaving either single market or customs union means goods cannot move freely across borders. By choosing to leave the EU you are deliberately moving yourself outside that border and rules.

Only the combination of a Single Market and Customs Union allows goods to move around freely.

(EU Members) benefit from frictionless trade because they participate in a Single Market and Customs Union.

Some in the UK say that you can leave the Customs Union and build frictionless trade. That is not possible.

Some in the UK say you can leave the Single Market and keep the benefits. That is not possible. I am not sure that has been fully understood in the UK.

All 3rd party countries must accept our autonomy to set standards, so UK must accept EU rules to trade. In classical negotiation "no deal" would mean status quo. In Brexit "no deal" means a return to the distant past.

100% of farm goods will be subject to border checks. One of the fundamental challenges we face. Irish border.

If UK is outside Single Market will require a system of checks to ensure compliance with European standards. If UK is outside Customs Union will require checks to determine rules of origin.

The free movement of goods, services and capital are indivisible we cannot let the Single Market unravel. You cannot leave the Single Market then opt into the sectors you like, cars, finance..

The decision taken by the UK to leave the EU will have major consequences. It is my job to say so.

The lies, or the misunderstanding that those at the heart of the Brexit process, have and still do peddle means that they are either liars or incompetent. Or possibly both. In placing her red lines during various speeches at the end of last year, and coupled with the clear and unwavering red lines from the EU, there is only really a very narrow area towards the harder end of the Brexit spectrum that is open to negotiation. This is not the painless, easy negotiations, being forced through by German Car makers and Italian fizzy wine producers. What we have, as it always was going to be, is 27 EU countries, united, and a negotiating team well prepared, whereas David Davis and his team is like me cramming six hours before my physics O level exam. Hopelessly un and under-prepared. And having to concede on almost any point.

There is an interesting scenario I thought of this morning, after coming across the term "hard remain" in a reply to a blog; what about if in a year's time, the economy tanking further, jobs in decline, European Banks and global pharmaceutical companies relocating to mainland Europe, it becomes clear that the whole thing needs stopping, but the EU say, to stop Brexit you need to give up the rebate, adopt the Euro and join the Schengen area? A Brexit forces us to integrate even further with the EU. Might be a long shot, but starting a process that you don't know if or how it can be stopped, not being prepared for the talks or even knowing what your position or aims are?

Finally, one of the architects of the Leave campaign, Dominic Cummings, took part in an exchange of Tweets with David Allen Green (@davidallengreen) in which Mr Cummings agreed that maybe the Referendum and its timing were wrong, and what has taken place since under the leadership of the PM has not been, shall we say, adequate? For some of this it is no real revelation, but for the Mail and in particular The Express, they keep up their anti-immigration agenda just in case things might slip. And Mr Farrage is in the wings, blurting out his thoughts, but not wanting to get back into front line politics, because, well, he's already lost seven by-elections and elections.

Tuesday 4th July 2017

Independance Day (USA)

You know the times when you know you're not well, so book a non-urgent appointment at the doctors, and by the time you get there you think there really isn't anything really wrong with you? So you go, you tell the doctor and he listens and prods and pokes and declares that there really isn't anything wrong, or you are overweight. Well, that all day yesterday. I had an appointment with the chiropractor in the evening, and all day I convinced myself that the pain was better and it was all in my head.

Bu then before that there was a whole day of copying and pasting to do. Yes, that's why I studied hard for five whole days at Auditor school? Apparently so. Anyway, I am getting paid a King's ransom for doing this. At home. So, things could be worse. Always could be worse.

The day before I received my lasted photographic based toy: a 2X teleconverter. Nothing flash, but as we are going to see an eclipse next month, I thought I had better have some gear to be able to actually snap it. And as the internet has lots of advice, I thought a teleconverter would help make the totality a decent size come snapping time! Anyway, once it arrived it meant that I had to road test it.

So after breakfast and before the copy and paste festival was due to begin, I attach the converter, and go into the garden. Despite it having what looked like the right electrical contacts, sadly the autofocus and IS system failed to work, but the TTL metering did, so, as I will be using it on infinity, should not be too much of an issue. I hope.

That done, it is time for work. So I make a fresh brew, have breakfast and ma ready just before eight. Or so.

As well as roadtesting the teleconverter, working I also decide that I should be baking, so through the day to break things up, I make a Limomoncello and Grappa tart, as raspberries are cheap and plentiful at the moment. I use a new recipe for sweet shortcrust pastry, which uses three egg yolks. The filling, as you may remember uses 12 more. So, a lot of shell cracking and separating to be done. But come eleven, it is in the oven, and smelling delicious. And once cooked it needs to cool, and then be chilled, but the good news is that it will be ready to test in the evening. And being a quality manager, I am qualified to judge whether it passes all quality tests.

Work goes on, either side of lunch, but come three in the afternoon my attention is waning. So, with the mobile on, I turn the laptop off, and with the clouds having rolled in through the afternoon, I swear it was chilly! Work doesn't seem bothered I am not online, so I watch Time Team, have a brew, and take things easy.

Once Jools is back at quarter to six, I have half an hour before I have to go to be told there was nothing wrong with me. We both agree the tart looks fabulous, and we can't wait to try it.

The surgery is just down the hill, a two minute drive, but across the Deal road. I am ten minutes early, so am able to watch people arrive for a pilates class. I was wondering if there was ever a pilates class for pirates. Could have helped the old sea dogs to a life of fitness of the grog.

Anyway, after a short wait, I go in, he knows about my case already, I explain where we are, and he lays his hands on me. And, turns out there is something, and bloody hell, has he squeezes, pummels and does his stuff, it begins to hurt. Swear out loud hurt. I was so surprised, because I had convinced myself there was not much wrong, but trapped muscle in my neck and shoulder.

But afterwards, it felt better. But this was just the first session in getting it better. And I have exercises to do too.

I drive back, then once home, make cheesy beans on toast, with a huge brew. This is a light meal as we are to have cream and tart for desert.

Come eight, tart, cream and coffee is served, it is a triumph, even if I say so myself, and is probably the best I have done in many attempts. Jools watches Dr Who, and I edit shots. Situation normal.

Monday 3rd July 2017

And just lie that, the weekend has passed us by once again, and it is Monday morning once more. A bright and sunny MOnday morning, and a day in which planned to do lots of work, if only the delights of all human knowledge which is available at the click of a mouse; in short, I am easily distracted by stuff on my home computer. And I believe to do this, I would have to actually switch it off when I wanted to work. And no sneaky peaks at Flickr or Twitter.

OK, only at lunchtime.

And at ten when I make a brew. And in the afternoon when I have a coffee.

But apart from that, just work, work work.

We get up, do the usual stuff, and I am on the computer, looking to see if the world was as stupid as Sunday night, and it was. Perhaps even more so, but that is to be expected I guess.

Jools leaves for work at then to seven, I have a shower, then have breakfast and more coffee. And, be strong now. Switch my computer off and turn the work PC on, and away we go. See, that wasn't hard. I'm sure the twitching and nervous tick will stop in time.

And away we go, no distractions, no music, no messages. Just pure work. One minute, two minutes pass. And then I am into the swing of it.

Come ten in the morning, I stop for coffee, and as I drink, I put mine back on; surf a bit, edit some shots. And when the cup is empty, switch it back off again.

And work.

Lunch comes, I fry up some leftover chorizo hash, mix it up and make an omelette out of it. I was tempted to have the last glass of wine in the bottle, but not a good idea on a work day. When I am working.

Molly brings me a vole in for a snack; I say thanks and pretend to eat it. I give her some special kibbles as a treat, which is what she expects and then goes out to catch another vole, or mouse.

Come half three I am done with work, copy and pasting for all my life is worth. Copying from a PDF into a Excel shot, having to insert paragraph breaks, and correcting errors. It takes ages, and after two days I ham halfway through the third document, with only 40 or so to do. A colleague says it will take three weeks. I now believe him.

I go in the garden to sit in the shelter, and I am joined by all the cats; Mulder on my lap as he is an attention-seeking tart of a cat, Scully making a nest in the raised beds, and Molly in the long grass behind, doing her best tiger impression. This is the life, sitting in our garden, surrounded by the stuff we planted. And now we have loganberries to eat; apparently they are better for cooking, but if you pick a really ripe one, it is just about edible.

Dinner is dirty pizzas. And after by comment that the ones Jools has been buying have been a bit tepid, she buys me a spicy meat and chili pizza. It is hot, has my lips tingling by the time I have eaten it all. Go for the burn.

And that, was Monday. I've had worse. And tomorrow there is the promise of chiropracticary inflicted pain, which will be for my own good. I expect.

Sunday 2nd July 2017

At least the weather over the weekend followed a patter, and was a pattern which allowed the orchid photographer who wanted to, to lay in until a little after seven, mess around on the computer, make bacon butties, clean up and still be on the road as the clouds were clearing overhead.

And that is what happened. All cats fed, photos edited, breakfast made, ate and cleared up. Camera batteries charged and all locked and loaded. And no doubt where we were heading; Maidstone, and a certain clearing on a wooded down overlooking the Medway.

Sunday mornings on the roads can be fraught, but this time we had a pleasant run up to Ashford, enjoying the sunshine breaking through, and going just fast enough to not have to overtake too much. At Maidstone the traffic got heavier, but we were going on just one more junction, before turning up the link road between Kent's two motorways.

Halfway up is our turnoff, into a small village. Or more accurately half a village as the busy road splits it in half, and good look in trying to cross to the other half, even in a car. Anyway, parking is no problem, and after getting my camera and tripod out, we go to the start of the bridleway, now almost hidden from the road, and take the meandering path through the woods to the clearing. As the view opens up, we could see large amounts of Willow Herb swaying in the breeze, and elsewhere, a multitude of butterflies and moths, all on the hunt for some late breakfast.

We take the path across the clearing, passing by basking butterflies, as I am in the orchid zone, and tel myself I can get them on the way back. I can't, because it will be too hot by then and butterflies off their heads on nectar and sunshine and with energy to burn. THis I did not realise, but do now.

Away to the right at two isolated trees, and in the shadow of both there are orchids; Broad Leaved Helleborines, and although it is early, some are already beginning to open, and a couple almost fully out.

There are impressive orchids, over two feet tall and with spikes packed with flowers ready to pop. I get down to business, snapping the best of the flowering spikes and of groups of spikes maturing together. And there are dozens of spikes, and mixed in from open meadow in full sun, to complete shade. And on the path outside meadow, more spikes are beginning to unfurl and in a week or three would be a fine sight as these spikes are very dark.

Turns out if there are only half a dozen spikes in flower, there are only so many shots you can take. Yes, it is true. And with a sigh, I realise I could do nore more, and as I alluded to earlier, the butterflies I hoped to snap on the return walk, were very much absence, apart from a very tatty Common Blue, so tatty I am in fact guessing it was a Common Blue, it being in such a bad state that the edges of the hind wings had worn away making identification difficult.

It is a steep road, at least for an A road, but now has a 50 mph speed limit and a speed camera keeping the boy, and middle aged, racers to the speed limit, and just as the road levelled out, we turn off the busy road, and like magic the slip road in a handful of metres becomes a narrow country lane, lost in the trees to the main road as it winds its way up the down.

We were here because a few visits ago I had spotted some orchid spikes growing, and had been wondering what they might grow to be. Last visit there were two or three spikes showing, but this time I lost count at 20, with the spikes seen previously nearly open. I had been harbouring the hope these might be something other than Broad Leaved Helleborines. And at first sight the spikes seemed sparse enough to be Green Flowered, and the buds themselves could even imagined to be Green Flowered. But, no doubt about those broad leaves (see what I did there?). But there were any spikes, and in a couple of weeks would be a great display.

After getting back in the car, I turn round, and as soon as we begin to drive back down the hill, I see a few spikes in the beam of the headlights. Clearly, these were not orchid, or if they were they would be Birdsnest, but even from the car they did not look right.

I reverse back, and go to investigate, and I guess (correctly), that they are Broomrapes, and probably Ivy Broomrape. And there are dozens of spikes, nesting in the undergrowth, but in groups of some in double figures. I think this is quite an unusual infestation, if it is an infestation. Broomrapes are parasites, leaching off a host plant (Ivy in this case) so not needing to chlorophyll itself, stealing what it needs from another plant.

I get back in the car, and after some discussions, we think a visit to the Ferry Inn on Harty would be an ideal place to visit on a warm sunny afternoon. Maybe have a pint and a ploughman's? Sounds great.

Sheppy is an island in the Thames, once three islands in fact, and linked to the mainland by a bridge near to Sittingbourne, a new bridge now, carrying the road smoothly over the Swale until it ends at a roundabout on the island, at which point the usual narrow main roads carries on, winding over the rolling hills of the old islands, and across the farmland on what used to be seabed, or river bed. Or something. And there is at least one prison there too. And one of the two people who founded Rolls Royce, Rolls or Royce, was killed in the first aircraft accident. Marked by a nice statue, fact fans.

Nearly at Laysdown, we take the narrow road to Harty, which was unusually busy, but we're not in a hurry. As we go past the raptor viewing point, we see a Marsh Harrier sail by, only about a hundred yards away, and I realise I have left my telephoto at home. Bugger.

Near to the pub, there was a man in a day glo tabard asking: wedding show, clay pigeon shooting or pub? Pub. OK, he let us go on. But, the pub had been taken over by a marketing company or something. And there was the wedding show taking place outside the pub, and all food was for attendees of the wedding show. But we were told all tables were booked, but we could sit on the rubbish bins and food would be brought to us in an hur. Or something.

We have a drink, non-alcoholic for me, we watch the people arriving for the wedding show, or those leaving clutching brochures on flowers, favours or venues. Or all three.

We drink up and escape, getting off the island as quick as possible and returning home. Returning home via the garden centre at Alkham. And although just needing to buy a present for someone, we end up buying a couple of foxgloves and some alpines too.

Enough with the flowers already.

And we call in to see my friend Gary at his home in River, to talk photography, travel revolving around photography, wildlife and how to photograph it, and camera gear, in particular cameras.

His wife, Julie and my wife, Julie, try to get a word in edgeways, and left unchecked we could have talked all day, and in the end decide to go out for a meal in a couple of weeks, where we can swap more photography based larks and high jinks.

We go back home, realising we had not had lunch, and with it nearly four, meaning that even if I got cracking as soon as we walked in the door, dinner was an hour away. SO we have a brew, feed the cats then I start peeling the potatoes, chopping vegetables and chorizo sausage. Meaning dinner was fish and chips. No, chorizo hash.

That night, the season that just won't die came to an end; probably, as the pre-World Cup tournament in Russia, the Confederations Cup reached it's climax. I had missed all the games thus far, but thought, why not?

Well, because many of the German and players from Chile had been playing for 11 and a half months, looked like zombies, but heck, there are medals to be won. Not a bad game, Germany score against the run of play as we pundits say, and Chile miss an ever-increasingly stupid open goals.

And, in the end, Germany win. Chileans fume and kick out.

We go to bed. The weekend was already over.

Saturday July 1st 2017

Sometimes, when I come to write a blog, it is at the end of a long, tiring day. Maybe I had a bad day at work, or my arm is giving me gip so I can't sleep. And so when I come to write, I'm not inspired, and my words just seem to be a list; did this, then this, then that. And so on.

Last week was such a week, so much to be thankful for, and be happy about. And yet, I was in a bad mood, could not concentrate, could not sleep. Urgh. So bad was it, Jools noticed and wondered if it was something she had said. It wasn't. Nothing any you have done either, just felt like crap, and was easily distracted got angry with myself for it. So, from tomorrow, a working from home day means just one computer on at a time, and between 8 and four, just the work one; crack on, get some work done and be productive.

So, I hope to work better and blog better. Onwards and upwards as they said in lift operator school.

As Jools had done most of the shopping, we were again spared Tesco on Saturday morning, which really isn't that bad, as it is mostly empty, and contrary to all outward appearances, I quite like to shop, its just dealing with other people sometimes I have trouble with.

Anyway, Up at the crack of half past six and the usual stuff in the morning, ending with coffee and croissants while we ponder what to do with the day. Turns out Jools wanted a tripod, and wanted to look at them in person like, which meant going to Canterbury to Canterbury Cameras. And as we were behind the usual schedule, we leave home on the crack of ten to drive the 20 minutes into the city, which would already be filling up. On the plus side, the camera shop is outside the city walls and on the road from Dover into town, so we could go in, shop and get out quick.

The camera shop was full of lovely things, but the subject of most talk once Jools had selected her tripod was the new ^d, which I hope to buy in the near future. What is it like, the spec and so on. But still is a two grand camera, and seems a lot. Next door is the high end hifi shop, and I went in the re to look for speakers. Speakers can cost a lot I found, some pairs come in at five grand. I'm sure you could pay more.

On balance, if I were to spend two grand on something, it would be a camera. And would have to be on 0% credit too. But I know I would use it. But we leave town with me dreaming of a new camera, and Jools playing with her new tripod, in the car. As you do.

Not much planned for the day, as the weather was supposed to only get out late in the afternoon, which made the bright sunshine we were seeing a bit unexpected to say the least. But welcome.

My only plan for the day was to go to Barham to check on the Violet Helleborines, and to go for a walk too. I mean, I do enjoy the walks, but walks where you see orchids are even better. I'm sure I'd enjoy a bike ride too, but a bike ride with orchids at the end would be spiffing.

We park in the usual place but instead of walking up the bridleway or into the beech wood, we take the footpath opposite, skirting the edge of the wood, up the gentle hill until, if you look carefully, there are a group of purple coloured stems and spikes unfurling; the Violets. And much further advanced than I dared hoped. Maybe a week away from being open. I take their shot from all angles, using my tripod which I had lugged along, and then we searched around for more spikes, in the end finding two more, but failing to find the one back down the hill beside the track. It might be seen next time we go.

I walk back to the car over the hill and through the remains of the orchid wood, still scarred by the logging that had been done, and only a handful of spikes had been able to flower and go to seed. I hope it will be better next year, but it looks grim for now. I was also looking for the holy grail of orchids; The Ghost. It has never been recorded in Kent, and so was a wild goose chase, but if one were to find a spike, national fame would follow very quickly. The Ghost has not been seen in Britain since the 1980s, and may not be seen again, but then as its single spike is small, lasts a day, they could be in the heart of a wood for years and no one would know.

I meet Jools back at the car, and with her having been asked to do a favour for Bob over the road ( more of this in a minute) we decided to have lunch out, and with the sun beating down we thought it best to sit in the beer garden, which is what we do when we get to the black Robin, and I find there is a beer festival on too! We both have fish and chips, I sup a pint or two of Gadds Cloudy IPA to wash it down. It is high summer indeed, the place gets busier as we wait for our food, more and more people coming for either or lunch or the festival.

And that was that, Jools had to be out later, going to Lydd to board an aircraft on a photographic flight along the coast. We were approached by Bob about doing the flight for hi, as he is ill and could not manage it. So, as ten years back I took shots as Jols did a flying lesson, I offered her the chance to take the pictures this time. Only I failed to pick up the signals that she wasn't keen. but me being male failed to read them. Anyway, at three she set off for the hour drive to Lydd, and I stayed behind, to write, listen to the radio and edit shots. Also, work in the garden; do some watering, pruning and so on. Sadly for Jools, the clouds rolled in just before the flight took off, meaning her shots didn't come out too well, but with some editing, they were acceptable.

Meanwhile, back home I flick through the TV channels and find the Tour de France on; stage 1 time trial, but I watch it, finding it interesting, especially in the driving rain making each turn dangerous.

Jools gets home at just gone eight, meaning late for dinner, but as we were hungry again. She talked me through the flight as we looked through the shots, deciding which ones could be salvaged.

Friday 30th June 2017

And here comes Mr End of the Week, right on time. I am so happy that you've arrived I can tell you.

And with the end of week 26, Denmark really likes the numbering of the week thing, half of Denmark goes on holiday, and through weeks 27 to 30, the rest of the country will take vacation as well. It is assumed by most at head office all are about to go on vacation, messages of "have a good vacation" and enjoy the time off circulate, even to those who will carry on working, and do carry on working each and every year. Still, it will mean that the in box will be quiet. For several weeks.

So, my boss is already on the beach, and there is a department meeting in the afternoon where the message seemed to be, come three we are all off to the beach!

But there is the usual chores to do; time registration, travel and the ringing around of the usual suspects to see how they all are. At least the day starts sunny, and I go outside after Jools has left to look at the beds of colour we have created. Jools has created, and the air alive with bees and other insects.

By the time work ends at three, the sun has gone in, but always worth sitting in the garden, and that is where I am when Jools comes home just before four with the shopping. And that means no need to hurry about come Saturday morning. Which is good, right?

Shopping put away, coffee made, and time to relax.

Some days lots happens. Some days nothing happens. This was a day when little happened.

In the evening, Monty was delayed by an hour, not starting until nine, which is very nearly bed time. We do stay awake to see it all, and much to ponder about on their feature on bees, and no matter what fancy pollen laden stuff we may plant, they do like traditional plants like trees and hedges to feed on. Much to think about there.

But the day is over, and outside darkness has fallen, as already the nights have begun to get longer. Tomorrow is July, when we must do the final planning of the great adventure to eclipse all others. Ahem.