Friday 6th March 2020

First day of the weekend. For Jools.

And as I still have to work on this day of the week, despite my not very subtle hints to my boss, I have five hours of meetings in the six hours of work.

Deep joy.

And being Friday, Jools was up at five to be ready to leave the house at six to get to yoga class. I snooze on to nearly six, so that by the time I am up and about, Jools had made me a coffee and was heading out to class.

See you later.

And I gird my loins once again and go up to do yet another session on the cross trainer, though being Friday just the one and the very last of the week. It would have been easy to say, oh me legs hurt and skip it, but I get it done.

And just the one session means I could have a nice early shower and be all clean and fresh for work.

And then to work, I realise there is a meeting starting at eight, and I did not have time to make breakfast, so I join needing coffee and breakfast. So sit there, stewing, whilst four auditors talk about auditors. I am rescued at quarter past nine as Jools couldn't go swimming as there was a gala on, so she made me a coffee before she put the shopping away.

A real life saver.

The meeting is brought to a close, so I could join another meeting.

I tell my boss this is what my life was life on operations, meetings, meetings, meetings, and no time for actual work. And I am all caught up, and so she is pleased.

I have 40 minutes in which to squeeze breakfast and more coffee in before another meeting. 90 more minutes talking about audits. Who knew audits could be so interesting. Said. No one. Ever.

Jools comes home, makes lunch and yet another brew. We auditors carry on talking.

And all work was done by half one, giving us half an hour to get to the showroom, as it was time we picked up the car.

We are in a position where we don't have to sell the old car, so we are a two car family, if only for a while. So, I drive the Corsa to Canterbury, through Thannington to the showroom.

We walk in, past a car covered in a dist sheet; some kind of new model we both thought. We were asked to take a seat, so sat with those waiting for their cars to be repaired or serviced.

Then we were collected: did you see your car? we were asked.

No.

Did you look over there, she said pointing towards the shrouded car. Beside it was a sign welcoming us to collect our car.

Do you want to unveil it?

Yes, and I will take photos. To no-one's surprise.

One, two, three. Go.

And there it is, all gleaming blue metal and paint.

Just sign here. Here. And here.

But, I have to go, to go back to Dover to collect my new glasses, so Jools will drive the new car home. I leave her being shown how the car works. Seems like its not magic.

Anyway, I drive back to the A2 then along to Dover, park at the town hall, walk to the shop and wait some more.

I am presented with a pair of varifocals, and these will take some getting used to, I was told.

That done, I drive home to wait for Jools.

And wait.

And wait.

She had gone into Canterbury, apparently.

In the new car.

She comes home at half five, time then to cook dinner, as we admire our new toy huddled in the car port as dusk descended.

Dinner was chorizo hash. And wine.

And was good.

I mean it is a fine meal, and has vegetables. So healthy, and red wine counts as one of your five a day. Or five a day as I drain the third glass.

Cheers.

Shall we go out for an evening drive? No, we shall save that for tomorrow.

Two weeks until the return of the Don, King Monty, so once that happens, spring would have arrived!

Thursday 5th March 2020

The Coronavirus is serious.

Irrespective of what you hear on Fox News or via keyboard warriors, it is serious and will kill a lot of people. And not necessarily those you thin. Such viruses can mutate and turn on the young and healthy. If the infection and mortality rates are correct, then over one million American will die. Far from being under control, it is everything but.

My employers are taking it seriously: they issue a weekly update from International SOS and that is advocating cutting out any air travel, face to face meetings, and that advice is a week old. It is likely that there will be no international travel for months, and that my audits for the summer will all be scrapped.

Coronavirus is a variant of the flu, but not like any flu you have seen. It has a mortality rate ten times that of normal flu, with the serious symptoms, a rasping cough and shortage of breath coming after the first flu-like signs.

News and advice changes on a daily basis, so any kind of planning is impossible. People have trained their whole life for a situation like this, there are plans and algorithms that people have learned and will act upon. Trump tells the US population to go to work if infected.

If followed, hundreds of thousands more people will be infected, and thousands more will die. Tonight it emerged some countries like Italy and Korea has tested tens if not hundreds of thousands of people, the US has tested 1,895 people in the 50 states. Missouri has tested nearly 17 people.

It is madness.

But with the other madness let lose, how can tell?

Thursday. Jools; last working day of the week. And for me, back on the treadmill.

Or cross trainer.

My legs ached, but only three more sessions to do for the week.

But Thursday was to be wet. Very wet. So, before the rain came, I filled the bird feeders and took out the rubbish for the dustbinmen, and then went up to the spare room to work out. Scully lay on the bed, looking at me pump lard, offering the occasional meow in support.

Its the thought that counts.

I do another twenty minutes, am all hot and bothered. So go downstairs to cool down, make breakfast and have another coffee.

And so to work. Sort mail and I find that my long term project is all approved and can now be published So good is it that it is already being used. I am marvellous. But you knew that already....

And the rain started at about nine, daylight faded and I carried on with work. Rain fell harder and harder. I took a shot out through the back door, all distorted by rain falling down it like a waterfall.

It didn't stop.

Into the afternoon.

After lunch, and at three I go and do another session, get out, cool down, have a shower and get dressed.

All done.

Dinner is courgette fritters. So I grate them, sprinkle them with salt, wring the water out of the pulp, then mix up the batter, add nuts and herbs and spices. Jools comes home and i cook.

We eat with garlic aioli and a glass of red. Or I do.

Matt comes round to service our boiler and so we swap news.

The evening is already half done.

Where does the time go?

We are all done by eight, I write and keep an eye on the Derby v Man Utd game, mainly beacuse we will meet the winner in the quarter finals. And it is Man Utd.

No fear there.

On rules of origin

I have written about rules of origin mostly in terms of chlorinated chicken and the such and what would happen if it came into the UK supply system, and that the EU would want to make sure that it could not be exported to them.

But there is another factor.

To be labelled as being made in the EU, a certain percentage of a product must have been made and/or assembled in the EU 27. When the UK was the EU28th, not a problem, but of of the EU and once the transition period ended, then a bigger problem.

If 60% of an item has been have been sourced in the EU to qualify as being EU made, then calculating whether that part or this part manufactured in the UK threatened that, then a company might just to decide, fuck it, lets get it from inside the EU.

The same thing could happen to items that you would need to label as being UK made for export, then what would happen if you could not source something within the UK?

And then there are the tariffs and non tariff barriers on things like biscuits: this is the kind of detail that international trade centres around, and most Brexiteers don't give a flying fuck about, but will be important.

Bluff and bluster won't cut it. I would like a PM who was on top of his brief and realised the issues rather than have one who looks like he doesn't know how a comb works.

Wednesday 4th March 2020

Rest day. No phys.

Jools did her phys, I drank coffee and watched the sun come up out of the back of the house. These are the small miracles we miss most days, that the sun rises, the darkness is chased away, and then birds come and sing about their joy for the coming day, and that they will eat well. Certainly once I fill up their feeders.

I put on radio 6 on the i player and listen to the history of the Monkees once again as the program the previous night was so interesting.

I have a lazy breakfast, get dressed and then set up the office.

All ready to go.

Only work isn't quite to fluid and dynamic in the audit word as it is n operations. So I have found. But I am happy dealing with things in a thorough manner, so to satsfy people's questions and expectations.

Which is good, I believe.

Work has enough going on to keep me interested and motivated, with enough time for thinking.

I go out to fill the bird feeders, and blue tits and goldfinches sit in the hedge and squawk at me at how slow I am doing things and how hungry they are. But I get it done, so I could stand at the kitchen sink and watch the birds waiting in line to eat.

Outside the clouds and mist clear, and it is bright, almost sunny. Could I sneak off for a walk? I think so....

What with the Met Office telling us the first day of spring happened on Sunday, and that it wasn't raining or blowing a gale, I thought I'd go for a walk.

Not far, just up the road, along Hardy Road, though no one tried to kiss me.

Then along to the Pig's Copse and Fleet house before doubling back over the fields. I did walk among the dog walkers, so many it was almost crowded.

Sadly, I have the camera on shutter rather than aperture, so, shots don't have the DoF you'd expect.

But close enough to illustrate a blog.

Will try to do better next time.

I reach the pig's copse, and it seems there are pg in there, just out of sight. So I shrug, take a shot and walk back towards home where I know there is a hot brew just waiting to be made.

And with a day of rest, there is no later workout session to do, no shower to be taken, so I prepare dinner, or warm up the cottage pie I had made. Cottage pie is like shepherd's pie, but with beef. I had cut up the beef in small pieces, added some gravy then made mash with butter and smoked red Leicester all mashed in. It was rather good even if I say so myself, mixed in with the "grillin' beans" left over from our trip to Texas.

The I could concentrate on the football.

The FA Cup.

Spurs v Norwich.

It has been some years since Norwich won a cup game, and this season we won two in a row, away from home, so now had Spurs away, again, in that London. Though as a cup game, Norwich were given 9,000 tickets, though I didn't go as there was a chance I would have gone to north Wales, but that fell through, but not before the match tickets were all sold out.

The FA Cup has always been huge in City's history, with Norwich winning away at Liverpool in 1909, or close to that, then getting all the way to the semi-final in 1959, and in the process beating Manchester United, Sheffield United, Tottenham Hotspurs among others.

But never got to the final.

And this year the pain would be live on the BBC.

In HD.

Oh joys.

The first half hour was painful, with Spurs all over us, and they scored after quarter of an hour from a corner.

Bugger.

But then Norwich began to play, and Spurs under Jose tried to play out the 1-0 win. Norwich came close without convincing, but then scored somehow with a crambled goal some ten minutes from time. Spurs panicked, threw everything they had at Norwich, but the game ended 1-1. And so to injury time, with both teams out on their feet, it was a war of attrition.

So, the penalties.

But Norwich had a secret weapon: goalkeeper, Tim Krul, who has a reputation for physcing out penalty takers. And so it turned out.

Norwich went 1-0 down, then drew level.

Both scored.

The Krul saved one.

Norwich scored.

Krul saved another.

Norwich scored.

Then Krul saved another shot.

City went through.

Krul ran the length of the pitch to celebrate in front of the 9,000 City fans. The fans went mad.

I screamed in delight.

I opened a new bottle of sloe gin and toasted out win.

Any old excuse in a storm

Coronavirus: well, this is a turn up.

I read about the Spanish Flu outbreak of 1918-19 to see what a real pandemic looked like, and the effects. It is scary stuff. And reading experts reports, blogs about how to contain them now, and how important it is to get control as soon as possible to prevent spread by those infected.

In the US it is already close to being a pandemic, with Trump having put Pence in charge of response, his first act was to hold a prayer session.

Testing levels have been almost non-existant, so much so that the CDC is now hiding them on its webpages. People evacuated from China shared a plane with uninfected people, then were met at the airport by untrained staff, who then went home.

This is reality, something that cannot be lied about. Although doesn't stop Trump doing it. Everyone s getting better, he claimed. Well, apart from that person who died.

And here in Europe, sports events, trade shows and so on are being postponed so to stop un-necessary travel and people mixing. Plans are in place to suspend Parliament from Easter, so MPs don't become "super-spreaders".

We saw in China that productivity in the first two months crashed, and will likely happen in Europe too.

So, what has this to do with Brexit?

Well, companies that get into trouble and fold, like Flybe, do so not because of Brexit, but because of the virus. In the case of Flybe, it was both, with the virus torpedoing the already stricken company.

But failing companies in the news will be met with claims that it wasn't Brexit, but the virus.

But another possibility is that the extension period will be extended due to the virus, it might be called something else, but at the moment, anything is possible. But as I said yesterday, a double whammy of Brexit and coronavisus could be very difficult for many if not most companies. As is every delay to Brexit that has happened and will happen.

But one thing we can always be sure of is that reality will win out.

Getting some in part 18

This is my last letter from RAF Cosford, before being let into the so-called "real" Air Force. I found out I was posted to Norfolk, RAF Marham, where I was to work in the Explosive Storage Area (ESA), and most of my friends on the course would be posted to the four corners of the UK.

Dateline:10th April 1991, AWM 218, RAF Cosford.

Dear Mum and Dad,

Well, its Friday evening, and I am in Cosford. What a bummer.

Well, it has been a very good week for me, as you know I came TOP in the finals with 85%. So, aren't I clever?

Yes I am. And I have to admit as to doing no revision before hand, which rather pisses of the senior man.

Last night was given over the celebrations, and we are now leaving here on June 10, this is because we are being kept here a week to help with the Air Show to act as crowd control.

I phoned Marham yesterday, they didn't know any of us were coming. The Flight Sergeant thinks we will be working in the EAS, that's RAF-speak for a bomb dump. He was pleased to hear we were coming, as they have rather a lot of work on, apparently.

I have not written before as there hasn't been a lot of news. We are now on the final phase of training, Composite Flight Servicing Training (CFST). Today, was spent in the crewroom. We've got to learn flight servicing; refueling, pumping up tyres, etc. We've got 5 weeks to do three and a half weeks work, so its going to be slow. For example, this afternoon all we did was walk to the hanger, look at a fire extinguisher and walk back. Rest of the time we drink coffee or I watch trains go by on the main line.

All we have to do is look interested and be safe.

To all intents and purposes, we have completed the course.

We played "all in rugby" yesterday, whilst getting pissed, and I got covered in mud so my jeans are drying on the radiator in my room. I should be going gliding tomorrow, at least I have the intention of going gliding, like I have the intention of making breakfast each morning.

About the exam results, the Flight Sergeant said "if only we could get what's in your head to reach your hands!!", but he was pleased all the same. In the four important exams I finished top three times and second, once. What a big head I am!

Well, that's all, I hope the news was to your liking,

Ian.

Stop campaigning, start governing

The PM and his ministerial team have been campaigning for the best part of four years, one referendum, two elections.

There is nothing else to campaign about, but it is all they know.

The UK is about to suffer a pincer attack by Brexit and the coronavirus, either one of which would stretch any administration. But one fighting reality, the EU, the BBC, the Judiciary, the Civil Service, the Diplomatic Service, all with a PM and Ministers promoted well above their abilities.

Don't get me wrong, Labour, the LibDems, the Greens or whoever else could have been voted in would have done little better, but looking at the Tory's front bench, there is no talent there. Labour meanwhile is going through the longest election campaign in history for a new leader, with Corbyn still there as interim leader, but there is no opposition. Not that there is much sign of Johnson either, apparently he spent the weekend finishing a book he was overdue in writing, so had to do that or pay a quarter million pounds back.

Meanwhile, the north and Severn Valley is flooded, thousands of people are homeless, and all JOhnson can says is we can cope. He can cope, others have little choice. And at the same time, numbers of infected people by the virus climbs, and getting measures in place now will decide how bad things will get.

And next week, the UK and the EU begin talks on the future relationship, with the issues we know so well still at the heart of everything.

Questions as to how the NI "Frontstop" is to be implemented. Britain is out of the EU, SM and CU, but NI is still in the SM for some goods, so there will have to be a border, a regulatory one, in the Irish sea. and this will cause paperwork, delays and costs. But both the Scttish Parliament and the NI Assembly both said today that neither would allow border infrastructure to be built at their ports.

This will be problematic, as Johnson broke the Sewel Convention and did not seek the devolved administration's approval on his WA or WAB. So, they are pissed off, and will not help. And so Johnson's bullishness to "get Brexit done" will have consequences. Just not the ones he thought of.

Lets hope Johnson channels more of his hero, Churchill, than he has so far shown.

Johnson's WA is a deal he predecessor in Number 10, May, rejected as a deal no UK PM could accept. Johnson also rejected it as a Minister, twice. And yet it is the same terms on NI as he waved through having got "it done".

The WA explicitly demands checks on goods from Britain entering NI have rules of origin checks and other paperwork carried out. And how will goods destined for just NI and those that are passing through to Eire be identified? The devil is always in the detail, and Johnson cares not for detail, but don't worry, the EU does.