Leading the world

In figures announced this morning, the UK is now only second behind the US in the number of excess deaths in the world. Over 60,000 in a report released by the FT, which has been doing this for some weeks now.

The UK has done considerably worse than Sweden, that did nothing and left all shops, bars, restaurants open. The UK did worse. A lot worse.

And figures also show that the later a country left the lockdown the worse the death rate was. The UK was the last in Europe, except Sweden, and is far ahead of Spain and Italy, who had the disease first and had less warning.

The decision when to lockdown the UK was purely a political one. And there is one person in charge of politic decisions, Coco the Clown. I mean Boris Johnson.

The UK is leading even the US in excess death rate per million.

Yay us.

And today, the Government is rolling out it test, track and quarantine plan. Evidence from those who have been eployed to trace says they have received no training, the software does not work. And this should have been in place when restrictions were loosened two weeks ago, and schools are due to return next week so local hotspots of the virus can be identified and locked down.

Without that we are playing Russian roulette.

We will know soon enough if there is a second wave of infections, but with the Government "forgetting" to publish numbers of people tested this week until it was pointed out, we will not really know how well or how poorly the new testing and trace process is working.

Johnson, as we have seen this week, is totally unsuitable to be PM, made or failed to make decisions in a timely manner, and is the person who has already decided what will happen in the next stage, even though he got it so wrong last time. Maybe he doesn't know or care what happens to tens of thousands of people? Listening to him waffling last night on the kind of detail a Prime Minister should know, and his admittance he doesn't read scientific briefings, did know about loopholes in the Governments financial support schemes, and the difficulties self-employed, those on zero hours contracts, or EU citizens who are now sleeping on the streets.

He didn't know. Or didn't care.

And still thinks we should all move on from Cummingsgate and do our duty to isolate if told to. But in exceptional circumstances don't. Or something.

Tuesday 26th May 2020

Back to work.

Five days off and we want more.

Always more.

I am awake, hear the alarm go off, then fall back to sleep. I wake up at half five or later to find the coffee Jools had made was going cold.

It would have been easy to dodge the daily phys. But I had done that four out of fve days over the weekend, so back to work, back on the phys.

I do 20 minutes.

And all is, if not well, but better. We have let things slip over the last couple of weeks, and I have put weight on.

Oh dear. So, stopping phys is not an option.

I do 20 minutes, cool down, make JOols a cuppa and get ready fr work. I have a long day ahead, including my annual appraisal.

Oh dearie, dearie me.

We have the early morning meeting, giving me time after to check my inbox for urgent mails, then it is time for the appraisal. I could not find anyone willing to say anything negative I head my boss say. Clearly, they had not tried hard enough, I could think of two or three who would have a different view. But I will take that.

I have a glowing assessment for the past year, and clear targets for the forthcoming year.

And we are done.

Wow.

I am made for this job, and I have the skills to improve things. But to hear it said bac to me is quite breathtaking.

Yay, me!

I have an early lunch, then another meeting in which I help someone. They are happy too.

I am good at this.

Apparently.

I have another brew to back up the one I had for lunch.

Come half two I have to eave and go to the doctors to collect my and Jools meds for the next month.

Nothing to be worried about, just to pick up my monthly meds.

So, why not go for a longer walk via the Dip and Cliffs, back via the surgery and be home in time for tea and medals?

Why not, and glad I was to take my camera as I fund and snapped a Clouded Yellow not half a mile from Chez Jelltex, and how impressed I am my ability to identify a butterfly species whilst at rest or in flight, and in the case of the Clouded Yellow, spotted the difference of the large butterfly on the wing showing a bright orangy-brown upper wing, of which I had not seen before.

Further on, I found a small meadow with a few sheep who were curious at me walking by. But I observed social distancing rules and let them be to their lush green afternoon snack.

By then I was looking down at The Dip, so I took shots for it's fans worldwide.

Up the other side, one step at a time, because I am not a horse, then along the cycle path to the top of Otty Bottom Road before striking out over the top of the downs.

As you do.

Across the tops of the down to the cliffs and young ladies sitting on chairs flattening wildflowers, discussing the best side to take a selfie. I could feel my braincells dying as I listened.

I looked down the coast line to Kingsdown, then walked inland, towards the quacks and then home.

Worth it, though.

I walk back through the village, to the surgery. I knock on the door and when the assistant comes, explain what I wanted. 5 minutes later, I have the meds and begin the final leg of the walk, back down to the old Red Lion and down Station Road to home.

I had no time for phys, just enough time to have a pint of squash, and get down to skinning and slicing the aubergine, egg and breadcrumbing it. And in a twist, when I run out of breadcrumbs, switch to panko, as a good friend tipped me off to that.

And how great and light were those fritters?

Lovely.

We have dinner, wash up, then have a coffee. NO ice cream though.

I am behind my editing and writing, but I had promised Jools a game of Uckers. Which I win.

Yay.

And by nine, time for bed, and some well earned zeds.

We all knew (part 2)

We assume that public schooled toffs are breastfed debates by their nannies. And so anyone who went to Eton and Cambridge would be of such high calibre that there were undefeatable.

And then, along came Johnson.

The Boris thing is an act, and underneath he is a real genius, ambitious and clever, a match for anyone.

And yes, we saw in the Conservative Leadership campaign, and the following election, a real fear of debate and scrutiny. For a graduate of the English public school sytem, debating of almost any subject is second nature. And yet almost every opportunity of actual debate ether with leaders of other parties or any serious radio or TV show was avoided.

Turns out he is no great mass-debater. He is lazy. Lazy to the point he admitted tonight he only reach scientific papers in extreme circumstances. 65,000 people or more have died through the virus. I mean, how much more serious would things have to be for Johnson to actually read a SAGE paper? Or understand the fact that many colleges and universities are facing financial ruin, or people can't get any kind of childcare and might need financial help in this.

This seemed like breaking news to the PM. As did the subject of quarantine for people flying into the country form June 1st. THis has been an issue for weeks, and yet for Johnson in front of a committee of senior MPs, it was like this was news.

How can we take anyone serious when they put the fate of his friend and advisor ahead of the public health of the very country is supposed to be leader of?

The emperor is naked and we can all laugh, but 65,000 people have died, and the same people who made the decisions that brought us here will make the decisions of the next step. It is what I have said for weeks, true then, true now.

Johnson must go, Cummings must go. And yet they have to take ownership of the decisions that got us as a country that got us here. To let them off now would be to forgive the unforgivable.

When I started witing about the virus, it was never meant to tie that crisis with that of Brexit, and yet it soon became clear that the sheer ignorance of the science and facts that took us down the hard/hardest Brexit road would lead to tens of thousands of extra COVID deaths. That must be answered for.

And when answered, maybe people will think that if Johnson and co got it so wrong on the pandemic, then maybe they were wrong about other shit too.

120,000 died as a result of austerity, and other 65,000 in the name of COVID don't matter, Think of that when you bury your Nan.

We all knew

After writing about the same spivs and chancers, that now make up the cabinet, for the last four years, I am in no way surprised after being rewarded year on year for bigger and grander lies, that they reached the end of the road when the lies, literally, became unbelievable.

Yesterday, in all seriousness, in order to keep up the lie, Michael Gove said he too had sometimes checked his eyesight by going on a long drive. I mean who hasn't? Just everybody.

When a Labour spokesman was asked who was doing their press round on Tuesday, the replied: Michael Gove.

Why put yourself out when Ministers are digger even deeper?

Indeed.

Pressure on Johnson to sack Cummings grows, a junior Scottish Minister resigned, and 38 other Tory MPs called for Cummings to resign of be sacked.

Nothing happened.

But a Government has linked its very credibility and trashed its own public health message on saving Cummings: what could he have on Johnson, Gove etc for them to risk so much?

Cummings would know "where the bodies are buried", and if he wanted could make life very difficult. But more difficult that annoying the nation? People have lost so much, sacrificed so much, only for the Government to effectively say, you did but only because you didn't love your family enough, that is a very bad message to send out.

But 60,000 dead and the risk of a second and deadlier wave? Best offer unconditional support to an unelected advisor who ignored the advice he helped formulate and write. Something very fishy about this, and seeing the pictures on beaches at places like Bournemouth over the weekend shows that most people think the threat is over and we go back to normal.

All to protect Cummings.

And people who have had fixed penalty notices (FPN) issued by police will not have them reviewed in light of Cummings' excuse and the following Ministerial support. But what is good for him should be the same for all families. Unless we're not all the same, some are more equal than others. I feel a legal challenge coming very, very soon.

Monday 25th May 2020

Bank Holiday Monday.

The 2nd Mrs Jelltex's birthday.

Estelle Hadingham (nee Braunsberg) died in about 1998, some two years after I divorced her, killing herself with diabetes, as her diabetic nurse has predicted, and the reason I left her.

Before she died, she had a stroke, lost one leg, then the other, then went blind. And died.

All avoidable if she has looked after her condition. She didn't.

Her Father also died of diabetes, maybe she wanted to join him? I have no idea. But when someone has a death wish, you can only do so much, which is why when it became clear nothing was going to make mum change course, I made clear that was her choice, and away you go.

Estelle died. Mum died. Gives me no pleasure in being proved right. But there you go, its a curse.

Last time I saw my stepson, Matthew told me Mam said I could not call you Dad any more. And, Man said I could not tell you I love you.

I would never use a child against my former partner, no matter what. I hope Estelle found peace in the end, and Matthew found happiness. He is 32 now, I have no seen hm in 20 years.

So it goes, so it goes.

There comes a point that when they want to do what they want to do, you let them.

But Bank Holiday Monday.

I sleep well until past half six, a veritable slugabed, but then it is up, drink coffee and out to visit the only acid bog in Kent. Or just about.

Hothfield is home to a fine church, a nice village and an acid bog. Something for everyone.

Thing is, I know where to park how to get to the orchids, and back in double quick time. Only regret was that the greasy spoon just outside the reserve didn't open on public holidays. So we had to stick with the bag of apricots I brought.

Sot it goes, so it goes.

Its a short walk from the car park, across the main road, through the wood and into the reserve, through the stile and near to the pond. I look for what I was expecting to be numerous spikes, but find just three or four, only one worth snapping, but that was in shade, but in sun when I left, so I snapped it then. These are all Heath Spotted,, and rare in Kent, so if you want to see 'em, you have to come here.

Also on the Heath are Cotton Grass, Lousewort and sundew. I snap them all.

And that is that.

Back to the car and drive to the second location, Stalisfield where in other years we would have a pub lunch. But not this year, as all pubs are still closed. We park on the green and walk down the lane to the field, which this year is sowed with broad beans.

Over that and into the woods, down into the shady valley and out the other side to the meadow, which I was expecting to be full of hundreds of flowering spikes of Greater Butterflies. And there are none.

Closer inspection show there to be about a dozen rosettes, but wind burnt and looking very sad, victims of a late frost and cold east wind.

Nothing to see here. Except a few Roman Snails, left over from the invasion 1400 years ago. Seriously.

And that was that. Nothing left but a hot and sweaty climb back to the field, then over to the pub and the car.

Back home via the A2, meaning we were back by half ten, time for a brew and a sit down.

And the rest of the day to fritter away.

We have caprese for lunch, washed down with red wine. You'd expect nothing less.

And then struggle to stay awake in the afternoon. The final two slices of cheesecake helped, along with a strong coffee.

And somehow the day, as warm and fine as it was, slip away.

We end with pate on toast, and the last of the digestive biscuits, and an hour of #wildflowerhour for me.

Perfect, really.

We're off to see the wizard

In the film, Dorothy travels along the yellow brick road to see the fabled wizard, to see if he would help her get home, and along the way collects a lion, scarecrow and tin man, who all feel they need something that is missing from their lives.

When they get to the Emerald City, they see the wizard as they great and angry figure who shouts at them. But then the curtain passes and it turns out the wonderful wizard was a small man with a mic and a good light rig.

Yesterday, in the rose garden of 10 Downing Street, the wizard allowed the UK press an audience, and in doing so allowed us to look behind the curtain at the self-proclaimed genius.

I won't go over details of what he said and how crazy ate shit bonkers it all was. Because it was.

An exercise in no excuses.

His initial statement was a witness statement with each short paragraph beginning either with a person (i, we, she, an elderly gentleman) or a time (on). Each line matching up with a confirmed sighting by a member of the public. No other petrol or bathroom stops, no further trips from one end of the country. Just confirming the Mirror and Guardian's stories in glorious bonkers detail.

His account even contradicted the PM's statements the previous day that the Cummingses trip to Castle Barnard was inaccurate. It was worse.

In traveling 30 miles to a tourist attraction, to "test his sight" with a short trip to see if he was safe to drive home to London, this is an admission of guilt under the s96 RTA 1988. In addition he also admitted three, at least, material breaches of the COVID-19 lockdown restrictions that he helped write and probably wrote the publicity for.

After the statement he allowed journalists to ask questions. The one question they didn't ask, but should have was, why didn't your wife drive?

If, as he claims, to be the brains of the organisation, and that the Johnson Government cannot function without him, them we are truly screwed. There are those who think his smirk at the end of the conference showed him to be some kind of psycho. Maybe he thinks he got away with lying again?

He really might be no cleverer than you or I?

He knows how to run a campaign; the referendum, Johnson elected as Tory leader and an election. But the actual business of Government, coping with two of the biggest emergencies in post-war UK history? Totally beyond him.

Johnson is all three other main characters from the Wizard of Oz; needing bravery, intelligence and humanity. The UK is Dorothy, just wanting normality.

Just click your heels together three times and things will be normal.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Oh bugger, he's still here.

It could all be smoke and mirrors and he played the whole press pack and country, and he is still laughing even now 14 hours later.

Sunday 24th March 2020

Day 4 of the 5 day weekend.

Less windy.

More orchids.

We have decided how much nicer life is without the drag of having to work. The previous three days have, if not rushed by, been filled with stuff and/or nothing that makes it feel like time has flown.

And although I have lots of orchiding, I have spaced out the trips, so its not felt like an orchid-obsessed time was enjoyed by a few. But time has slipped by, and already work feels closer than Thursday was.

But it was Sunday, we were up at twenty past five, there were orchids to get out ans snap, so may as well get up and me, for a change, make the first brews of the day.

The early morning cloud cleared, so at seven we were on the road, drving out along the A2 to Braham, then across the downs and through beech woodland to Park Gate.

Park gate is an unimproved meadow, and due to some great work in the 1950s when orchid seeds were scattered, home to the UK's largest (out of three) of Monkey Orchids. And it being peak Monkey season, best get down there before the crowds.

Almost nothing out on the roads, so we made good time the ten or so miles to Barham, turning off and then down onto Gravel Castle Road (I kid ye not), and down into the top end of the Elham Valley, where the Nailbourne is now just a few scattered stagnant pools, rather than the torrent it was four months ago.

We turn off and go up the valley sides, through a wood which the floor of is covered in wild garlic, drifts of white flowers swaying in the breeze.

We stop in the lay by, and I put the ring flash on the camera, and after getting into the site, I climb up the down to check the area for Monkey spikes. I find a few, but they get more frequent nearer to the fence. A volunteer tells me there were 27 spikes in that paddock. I have no reason to doubt her.

I walk onto the second paddock, and there are many more spikes, and no matter how rare they are, pretty much once you have seen one you've seen them all. There was pictures of a spike in France earlier in the season, just green, but no here, not this year

Into the final paddock to look for signs of Musk Orchids, Greater Butterfly and maybe a last Fly. I see no Musk, only one spike of the GBO seems to be viable this year, and that wasn't open, and all Fly bar one were dried as they had come to the end of the season. But one worth snapping, and I get a shot of the double interflorance.

And that was that.

Back to the car, and a short drive to Wye to check on the other colony of Late Spiders. The site nestles in a fold of Wye Down, out of site of the road, you have to know where to stop and climb over the fence.

But I do.

Jools goes looking around while i check on the LSO spikes. A good half dozen now out, though most small. There was one fine double spike, which I have to wait to snap for 20 minutes until the sun came out from behind a cloud.

And it seemed the sunny day we were told to expect had other plans, and I looked north and saw nothing but clouds.

Maybe we should go home?

We shall.

We drive down Stone Street, back to the motorway, then along back through Folkestone, along over Shakespeare and into Dover. And home.

All this spare time we seem to have, the garden is looking fabulous too.

I make brews.

Outside the winds blows hard again and the cloud grows thicker. In a sign I don't want to go out again and happy with that choice, I take my socks off.

We fritter away the afternoon, including start the second half of the cheesecake. I say start the second half, we have a quarter between us each day of the holiday, tomorrow it will be all gone.

The afternoon ploughs on.

I cook dinner early; salmon, creamed spinach, curried rice and sweet chili stir fried vegetables. A good and fairly healthy meal, but a lot of flavours going on.

It is another triumph, but won't win any beauty contests. And there is wine.

Always wine.

And that is it.

More Twittering in the evening, posting pictures of plants and orchids I have snapped. Simple stuff.

And that is it.

We end the day on the patio looking at bats hunting for insects. Day done.