We would be on our way to Tilbury to join the liner Marco Polo, for 17 nights of cruising to Norway and Svalbard.
Instead, we have to battle for a refund on the whole trip, as it has been cancelled.
As we enter the second week of June, I have had three days off this year, and in other years I would be weary and needing a break. And yet this year, of all years, I am fine.
Though, when to take any time off is another question.
We hope to have a week off in September, and maybe another in October, but that still leaves four weeks to take.
This is a mere trifle, obviously. And there is a good chance to carry some over for next year. And with our hopes to travel to the other side of the world, that is tempting.
Sometimes, it seems the world is getting back to normal; there are no shortages, shops are open, garages are open, KFC and McDonalds are open. But non-essential shops are closed. Pubs are closed. Hairdressers are closed. Restaurants are closed. Non-essential travel on public transport is not allowed. We have not left the county since March 13th.
Elsewhere, there is more than a chance that infection rate is climbing and there might be a second lockdown. Or not.
The Spanish Flue epidemic of 1918-19 lasted 500 days before it faded away, if COVID has the same life, then we have still nearly a year of this to cope with. Who is to stay what will be left when this is all over?
I was looking forward to the cruise, I mean, who wouldn't? Bing with Jools, Jen, Mary and her friend, all photographers and young at heart if not actually young (Jools excluded). And ending up on Svarlbard, all that midnight sun and exciting. But not now. And maybe not next year either.
People has suggested that they will head down the pub once they open. Not sure if I will be in the first rush. What will I do first? Not sure, maybe go for fish and chips in Deal, a pub meal at The Lantern? Go to a gig at The Booking Hall. Something normal. Then a pub.
Then another one.
Sunday, 7 June 2020
Saturday 6th June 2020
I am the founder and admin of a Kent Orchid group on Facebook, which has 281 members. I created it first to share the knowledge with friends who wanted to snap orchids, but has expanded now to a large group of orchidists of all kinds from all corners of Kent and beyond.
Initially, it was myself and a friend who used to be the only ones who posted, but over the last two years, it has grown more and more vibrant. What this means is that there are many pairs of eyes and ears, looking to the ground, in woods, on downland and listening for rumours of anything orchidy unusual.
On Thursday, one member of the group posted shots of an unusual Fly Orchid from near to Hythe, I, like many others wanted to go and see myself. With the weather on Saturday due to get very windy, if we wanted to find the green orchids, it would have to be early.
Which is why we were leaving the house at half six, having had just a single cup of coffee.
There is a former airfield the other side of Folkestone, some of the barracks still exist, and although the land is private, locals use it, so there seemed no issues for us going for some "exercise".
With Google Earth and Street View, it is easy to see where to park, what the entrance to the site was like, and the route to be take across the old airfield to where the orchids should be. All was set.
Although, if we believe the Government, things are getting better, the roads are less busy. Even at seven in the morning there should have been more people about, but there isn't. So we drove into town down Jubilee Way, then along Townwall Street and up past the Megger factory towards Folkestone A few lorres and trucks were arriving into town, but little else.
We're a long way from normal. Still.
Through Folkestone and onto the motorway, past the Tunnel entrance, and nothing coming from there from France and beyond.
We turn off towards Hythe, the take the turning to Lympne instead. That's Lympne, pronounced Lim, of course.
We stop on the edge of the village, walk down to the old entrance to the airfield, no blocked off by concrete blocks. I get my camera from the back of the car, and we walk into the small wood, a path leading us to the expanse of grassland beyond.
All I had to do was configure what I was seeing with the top view from Google and we would be set.
This might take some time.
A path leads left, and runs beside the old runway, I knew where I was now.
It was a bright and sunny morning, but cool. So cool I had a jacket on! And as we walked into the light breeze, I did the sip all the way up. To the left was the new industrial estate, which I knew we had to go past.
For a site that had orchids, and odd ones at that, the grassland was a little dull. Just the usual suspects, and lots of tall wavy grass. But beyond the crossway and the pile of soil and spoil left over from when the site was turned into an airfield, there was a fine mix of heathland plants; birds foot trefoil, lots of red clover and other plants.
The path turned to the right, and just along here should be the orchids.
We just have to keep going and there is one right on the path, I say confidently.
I see no orchids.
In fact, I had seen no orchids at all since we entered the old airfield.
I think if there was an orchid spike, I would have seen it. Jools would have seen them too. But we saw none.
We reached the far side of the airfield, so had to double back via another path near the perimeter fence.
Still no orchids.
It felt right, so I walk between the two paths, and there was an animal track, so I followed that, so nearly stepped on a Bee Orchid spike.
Yay,
And just further on, right in the middle of the path, was a single spike of a green Bee Orchid.
I snap it, and despite knowing there were at least 5 more round about, I was happy with that.
Time to go home for breakfast, I say. Jools agrees.
We walk back to the car, as the breeze builds, and in an hour or so, would have been to strong for macro work. So we did well.
Back in the car and a quick drive back to the motorway, through Folkestone and to Dover.
We get back home, and have a fine breakfast: fruit and yogurt followed by croissants and coffee, all to a Radcliffe and Maconie soundtrack on the wireless.
The only remaining task for the day was for me to make coq-au-vin, an easy recipe I saw on TV last week.
If only if I could remember it, and it turned out that the program website was down. But chicken, bacon, wine, mushrooms, onions seemed to be the important ingredients.
At two I begin to cook, vegetables cooked until soft, chicken thighs cooed until the skin went crispy, add bacon. Put in a pot, ass half a bottle of vin rouge, let simmer for an hour.
Serve with buttered baby new potatoes and French style peas with bacon.
Yes, more bacon.
And it was rather wonderful. A very good first attempt, lots of vegetables. And wine.
I said I would make sure the remaining wine in the bottle wouldn't go to waste and drink it. The two glasses had a right party with the glass of Belgian beer I had whilst cooking.
Once we had cleared up, my brain decided I really needed a lay down. So, I went to bed.
At this point I lost at least two hours.
I woke up at five, time for a brew and shake the cobwebs from my head.
We watch Gardener's World, listen to more radio. And have sandwiches for supper, made with the wholemeal bread I had mixed at breakfast, and let rise through the day.
That was another or them good days.
Initially, it was myself and a friend who used to be the only ones who posted, but over the last two years, it has grown more and more vibrant. What this means is that there are many pairs of eyes and ears, looking to the ground, in woods, on downland and listening for rumours of anything orchidy unusual.
On Thursday, one member of the group posted shots of an unusual Fly Orchid from near to Hythe, I, like many others wanted to go and see myself. With the weather on Saturday due to get very windy, if we wanted to find the green orchids, it would have to be early.
Which is why we were leaving the house at half six, having had just a single cup of coffee.
There is a former airfield the other side of Folkestone, some of the barracks still exist, and although the land is private, locals use it, so there seemed no issues for us going for some "exercise".
With Google Earth and Street View, it is easy to see where to park, what the entrance to the site was like, and the route to be take across the old airfield to where the orchids should be. All was set.
Although, if we believe the Government, things are getting better, the roads are less busy. Even at seven in the morning there should have been more people about, but there isn't. So we drove into town down Jubilee Way, then along Townwall Street and up past the Megger factory towards Folkestone A few lorres and trucks were arriving into town, but little else.We're a long way from normal. Still.
Through Folkestone and onto the motorway, past the Tunnel entrance, and nothing coming from there from France and beyond.
We turn off towards Hythe, the take the turning to Lympne instead. That's Lympne, pronounced Lim, of course.
We stop on the edge of the village, walk down to the old entrance to the airfield, no blocked off by concrete blocks. I get my camera from the back of the car, and we walk into the small wood, a path leading us to the expanse of grassland beyond.
All I had to do was configure what I was seeing with the top view from Google and we would be set.This might take some time.
A path leads left, and runs beside the old runway, I knew where I was now.
It was a bright and sunny morning, but cool. So cool I had a jacket on! And as we walked into the light breeze, I did the sip all the way up. To the left was the new industrial estate, which I knew we had to go past.
For a site that had orchids, and odd ones at that, the grassland was a little dull. Just the usual suspects, and lots of tall wavy grass. But beyond the crossway and the pile of soil and spoil left over from when the site was turned into an airfield, there was a fine mix of heathland plants; birds foot trefoil, lots of red clover and other plants.The path turned to the right, and just along here should be the orchids.
We just have to keep going and there is one right on the path, I say confidently.
I see no orchids.
In fact, I had seen no orchids at all since we entered the old airfield.
I think if there was an orchid spike, I would have seen it. Jools would have seen them too. But we saw none.
We reached the far side of the airfield, so had to double back via another path near the perimeter fence.
Still no orchids.
It felt right, so I walk between the two paths, and there was an animal track, so I followed that, so nearly stepped on a Bee Orchid spike.
Yay,
And just further on, right in the middle of the path, was a single spike of a green Bee Orchid.
I snap it, and despite knowing there were at least 5 more round about, I was happy with that.Time to go home for breakfast, I say. Jools agrees.
We walk back to the car, as the breeze builds, and in an hour or so, would have been to strong for macro work. So we did well.
Back in the car and a quick drive back to the motorway, through Folkestone and to Dover.
We get back home, and have a fine breakfast: fruit and yogurt followed by croissants and coffee, all to a Radcliffe and Maconie soundtrack on the wireless.
The only remaining task for the day was for me to make coq-au-vin, an easy recipe I saw on TV last week.
If only if I could remember it, and it turned out that the program website was down. But chicken, bacon, wine, mushrooms, onions seemed to be the important ingredients.
At two I begin to cook, vegetables cooked until soft, chicken thighs cooed until the skin went crispy, add bacon. Put in a pot, ass half a bottle of vin rouge, let simmer for an hour.
Serve with buttered baby new potatoes and French style peas with bacon.
Yes, more bacon.
And it was rather wonderful. A very good first attempt, lots of vegetables. And wine.
I said I would make sure the remaining wine in the bottle wouldn't go to waste and drink it. The two glasses had a right party with the glass of Belgian beer I had whilst cooking.
Once we had cleared up, my brain decided I really needed a lay down. So, I went to bed.
At this point I lost at least two hours.
I woke up at five, time for a brew and shake the cobwebs from my head.
We watch Gardener's World, listen to more radio. And have sandwiches for supper, made with the wholemeal bread I had mixed at breakfast, and let rise through the day.
That was another or them good days.
In Liz we Truss
The UK has entered into some kind of talks with the US about trade.
Liz Truss is on charge, so expect some low tariffs on cheese and jams. Or something.
We have little idea about what the UK side wants, but a little more about what the US wants. The US wants protectionism, a better deal for the US than it has with other countries. And the UK is first in its sights.
Talks are deemed to be secret, and what is agreed will remain secret once ratified.
Already MPs have voted to lower standards for food coming into the UK from the US, going against years of worthless promises from Johnson down.
The deal which will be agreed will have provisions in that will not allow future Governments to get out of parts it does not like, not without paying reparations to the US. Johnson will have us filleted up good and proper.
So, what is being negotiated in secret and out of the limelight caused by COVID will affect the UK and its citizens for decades, though we are not being told what the aim is. Business and industry isn't being told either, so they can't prepare either.
And the press are behind Johnson in complaining about keeping to the deal as agreed and what his Government was actually elected upon.
This shitshow will go on and on.
Liz Truss is on charge, so expect some low tariffs on cheese and jams. Or something.
We have little idea about what the UK side wants, but a little more about what the US wants. The US wants protectionism, a better deal for the US than it has with other countries. And the UK is first in its sights.
Talks are deemed to be secret, and what is agreed will remain secret once ratified.
Already MPs have voted to lower standards for food coming into the UK from the US, going against years of worthless promises from Johnson down.
The deal which will be agreed will have provisions in that will not allow future Governments to get out of parts it does not like, not without paying reparations to the US. Johnson will have us filleted up good and proper.
So, what is being negotiated in secret and out of the limelight caused by COVID will affect the UK and its citizens for decades, though we are not being told what the aim is. Business and industry isn't being told either, so they can't prepare either.
And the press are behind Johnson in complaining about keeping to the deal as agreed and what his Government was actually elected upon.
This shitshow will go on and on.
Saturday, 6 June 2020
Friday 5th June 2020
Constitution Day (Denmark)
Denmark is closed. All down the pub or getting their hair cut. Or getting their hair cut before going to the pub for pickled herring.
Or something.
It does mean that there is no early morning meeting to attend, so I could lay in bed all day if I wanted. Or just start late.
Although able to lay in, needless to say we were awake soon after five, all ready for the day.
Bah.
I was first down for a change, so feed the cats, although they're not too sure why its me, then I make first drinks of the day.
And as Jools gets ready for another online yoga class, I go upstairs to gird my loins for the last session the trainer this week. I can say that it has been easier this week, after the five day weekend a couple of weeks back, got me out of practice.
I listen to the radio now, try to avoid the news broadcasts, and it isn't as good as having an i pod, but I can manage.
I lay on the bed to cool down, Mulder comes to check if I am OK, and to receive a stroke on his head. I have a shower, get dressed and make breakfast once downstairs, timing it just so as its all ready when Jools finishes her class. And the big news is that next week they are going to try an outdoor class, whilst observing social distancing, of course.
Even by recent standards, it was a quiet morning. Only my UK colleagues in, so my Skype dashboard showed lots of out of office messages.
I work until midday, at which point we had received a call that our order was ready at the butchers. One last look at my empty in box and "to do" list, and I power down for the weekend.
Yay.
Things are pretty back to normal, as far as traffic is concerned, quite heavy traffic to Sandwich, the greasy spoons were open and doing brisk business, as lorry drivers need bacon butties even in a pandemic.
We head out over the marshes to Preston, through the fruit trees to the village. We park at the garden centre where all other visitors had parked in alternate spaces, not sure social distancing was needed when in cars, but there you go.
Jools goes to the garden centre and I go to the butchers where the order was all bagged up and ready. I swap a few words wil Mark. He is hopeful they have come through the worse, and have many new customers too.
I meet Jools as she comes out of the garden centre, she had been taking shots of pots for our neighbour, Waler, wh Jools did shopping for earlier.
Back home for lunch; ham rolls and a brew. Followed by fruit and cream filled choux buns. Naughty, but nice.
And that was the afternoon, really. We waited for the forecasted rain to come, which it faled to do, and then, when it should been sunny, the heavens opened, so we opened the doors and windows to let that fine smell of damp soil flood into the house. Which is called Petrichor, so now you know too.
We had courgette fritters for lunch, along with some wine, which explains our lethargy up to four in the afternoon, and the start of the weekend.
We listen to the radio, play Uckers, and I nearly eight-piece Jools, but unable to roll a 1 for a few rounds to get my last piece home.
But victory was mine!
We go to bed at nine, but I remember that the full moon was due to rise at a minute past, and should still have been in partial eclipse. So, we wait at the bathroom window to see it rise above the houses the other side of the Dip.
It was cloudy, but after 20 minutes the full moon cleared the last of the whispy clouds, and seemed to just hang in the sky, silver and large. As we watched, a fox entered our garden from Steve and Bev's, it checked the feeder, but was soon chased off by Mulder who was full of the spirit of the chase.
The fox just jumped onto the hedge next door, and looked down at Mulder, meowing and pacing around.
We left them to it.
Denmark is closed. All down the pub or getting their hair cut. Or getting their hair cut before going to the pub for pickled herring.
Or something.
It does mean that there is no early morning meeting to attend, so I could lay in bed all day if I wanted. Or just start late.
Although able to lay in, needless to say we were awake soon after five, all ready for the day.
Bah.
I was first down for a change, so feed the cats, although they're not too sure why its me, then I make first drinks of the day.
And as Jools gets ready for another online yoga class, I go upstairs to gird my loins for the last session the trainer this week. I can say that it has been easier this week, after the five day weekend a couple of weeks back, got me out of practice.
I listen to the radio now, try to avoid the news broadcasts, and it isn't as good as having an i pod, but I can manage.
I lay on the bed to cool down, Mulder comes to check if I am OK, and to receive a stroke on his head. I have a shower, get dressed and make breakfast once downstairs, timing it just so as its all ready when Jools finishes her class. And the big news is that next week they are going to try an outdoor class, whilst observing social distancing, of course.
Even by recent standards, it was a quiet morning. Only my UK colleagues in, so my Skype dashboard showed lots of out of office messages.
I work until midday, at which point we had received a call that our order was ready at the butchers. One last look at my empty in box and "to do" list, and I power down for the weekend.
Yay.
Things are pretty back to normal, as far as traffic is concerned, quite heavy traffic to Sandwich, the greasy spoons were open and doing brisk business, as lorry drivers need bacon butties even in a pandemic.
We head out over the marshes to Preston, through the fruit trees to the village. We park at the garden centre where all other visitors had parked in alternate spaces, not sure social distancing was needed when in cars, but there you go.
Jools goes to the garden centre and I go to the butchers where the order was all bagged up and ready. I swap a few words wil Mark. He is hopeful they have come through the worse, and have many new customers too.I meet Jools as she comes out of the garden centre, she had been taking shots of pots for our neighbour, Waler, wh Jools did shopping for earlier.
Back home for lunch; ham rolls and a brew. Followed by fruit and cream filled choux buns. Naughty, but nice.
And that was the afternoon, really. We waited for the forecasted rain to come, which it faled to do, and then, when it should been sunny, the heavens opened, so we opened the doors and windows to let that fine smell of damp soil flood into the house. Which is called Petrichor, so now you know too.We had courgette fritters for lunch, along with some wine, which explains our lethargy up to four in the afternoon, and the start of the weekend.
We listen to the radio, play Uckers, and I nearly eight-piece Jools, but unable to roll a 1 for a few rounds to get my last piece home.
But victory was mine!
We go to bed at nine, but I remember that the full moon was due to rise at a minute past, and should still have been in partial eclipse. So, we wait at the bathroom window to see it rise above the houses the other side of the Dip.
It was cloudy, but after 20 minutes the full moon cleared the last of the whispy clouds, and seemed to just hang in the sky, silver and large. As we watched, a fox entered our garden from Steve and Bev's, it checked the feeder, but was soon chased off by Mulder who was full of the spirit of the chase.
The fox just jumped onto the hedge next door, and looked down at Mulder, meowing and pacing around.
We left them to it.
Talking out of their Rs
The R number is the amount of infectability at a given point.
The reproduction number (R) is the average number of secondary infections produced by 1 infected person.
And then there is the COVID Alert Status: it goes from 1 to five, where 1 is not known to be present and 5 is where there is a material risk of the NHS being overwhelmed.
To move from say 4 to 3, certain things have to be present, and the R rate has to be within certain limits.
Sadly, the Government has been playing free and lose with what should and shouldn't be allowed when the alert status is still at 4 in the UK, 9 days after Johnson said it would be dropping to 3.
If this is the case, why is lockdown being loosened when the R number doesn't back this up, and in most regions the R number is nearly at 1, meaning it should be at 4. In the North West the R number almost certainly above 1, and on London it increased from 0.4 to 0.95.
Last night Matt Hancock made all sorts of new restrictions on the wearing masks on public transport an in hospitals, the latter without discussions with NHS chiefs, so the announcement at 17:00 on a Friday evening was something of a "surprise". Almost like they're making it up as they go along!
Well.
The reproduction number (R) is the average number of secondary infections produced by 1 infected person.
And then there is the COVID Alert Status: it goes from 1 to five, where 1 is not known to be present and 5 is where there is a material risk of the NHS being overwhelmed.
To move from say 4 to 3, certain things have to be present, and the R rate has to be within certain limits.
Sadly, the Government has been playing free and lose with what should and shouldn't be allowed when the alert status is still at 4 in the UK, 9 days after Johnson said it would be dropping to 3.
If this is the case, why is lockdown being loosened when the R number doesn't back this up, and in most regions the R number is nearly at 1, meaning it should be at 4. In the North West the R number almost certainly above 1, and on London it increased from 0.4 to 0.95.
Last night Matt Hancock made all sorts of new restrictions on the wearing masks on public transport an in hospitals, the latter without discussions with NHS chiefs, so the announcement at 17:00 on a Friday evening was something of a "surprise". Almost like they're making it up as they go along!
Well.
Friday, 5 June 2020
Track and trace failure
I would be hard pressed to identify which one of this Government's failures has been the worst. I mean there are so many, and it is easy to forget how hopeless Johnson and co have been.
Track and trace should have been implemented in March, had it been done, then there would have been three months work, and something would be up and running.
Or the Government could have used the off the shelf option from Google and Apple. But no, they wanted centralised data.
So, more delays and data protection issues, but this allows their friends who helped Vote Leave get their trotters in the trough.
A trial us up and running on the Isle of Wight, but there are no figures for its usage or how many people it has identified or if the public have followed the text advice. Even when given notice of a question on such data, the Government have no answers or a clue.
Meanwhile the R rate for areas of the country have been released, and some are good, some are not. The North West it is probably over 1, and in London it has gone up from 0.4 to 0.95. And there are further relaxations being planned?
Football is coming back!
Horse racing has started!
McDonalds is open in Whitfield.
350 people died yesterday in the UK taking the official total to over 40,000. So much winning.
And Johnson is proud.
Fucking proud.
Track and trace should have been implemented in March, had it been done, then there would have been three months work, and something would be up and running.
Or the Government could have used the off the shelf option from Google and Apple. But no, they wanted centralised data.
So, more delays and data protection issues, but this allows their friends who helped Vote Leave get their trotters in the trough.
A trial us up and running on the Isle of Wight, but there are no figures for its usage or how many people it has identified or if the public have followed the text advice. Even when given notice of a question on such data, the Government have no answers or a clue.
Meanwhile the R rate for areas of the country have been released, and some are good, some are not. The North West it is probably over 1, and in London it has gone up from 0.4 to 0.95. And there are further relaxations being planned?
Football is coming back!
Horse racing has started!
McDonalds is open in Whitfield.
350 people died yesterday in the UK taking the official total to over 40,000. So much winning.
And Johnson is proud.
Fucking proud.
Thursday 4th June 2020
Without COVID, we would have been preparing for hour holiday on Sunday.
Cats to round up, cameras to clean, pack and batteries charge. Maybe suitcase to pack.
But not now.
We are trying to get our money back; its a lengthy process, but we should get it back at some point.
I have five and a half weeks of vacation to take before the end of the year, with half the year nearly gone.
I'm not too knocked out by it to be honest, I would liked to have gone cruising to Norway and Svalbard, but the thought of getting on a cruise ship mostly with people older than us didn't fill be with anticipation. So, the option of getting a refund is good, even if we do have to jump through hoops to do so. People all over the world will be doing this too, I guess.
We are hoping to do something later in the year, virus depending, of course. Top of the list is a motor tour through gastronomic France, with rich food and cheap local wines. What's not to like?
If that is impossible, we may go on a boating holiday on the Broads. Me on a boat, what could go wrong?
Well, we shall see, we might be all eating each other by the autumn. Or eating the politicians.
I wake up each morning, turn on the computer and check the internets. What it has been this week is reviewing the videos of police brutality in the US. I am shocked to my core. Not that it is happening, but that it goes on even as they officers know they're being filmed and do it anyway, like they know they'll get away with it anyway. I mean, if there is this many caught on tape, imagine how many such incidents must happen across the country?
And Trump eggs the police on, creating imaginary enemies of the State so he can defend further indefensible acts. The US totters on the edge on an abyss into which it will plunge unless the brutality stops. The Chef of Staff of the Army issued a memo reminding members of the Armed Forces that their loyalty is to the Constitution not the President.
Incredible times.
In contrast, my experiences pale to nothing.
It is Thursday; back on the phys, and putting the bins out.
Then work.
This was supposed to be the day that we got what is called "rain". Apparently water can fall from the sky? So, anyway, it meant, again, no going out and yet more meetings.
Jools doesn't go for a walk, instead she dead-heads flowers in the garden. I do 20 minutes on the cross trainer, and have the best session in weeks, hardly out of breath at the end of it. Hardly worth sitting outside to cool down. But I do.
The cats sit beside me, enjoying what would probably be the only sunshine of the day, Mulder looking like his fur was on fire in the warm golden light.
But time is getting on; there is breakfast to make, coffee to brew, and Jools has to go to work.
It is a three day week in Denmark, with Friday being Constitution Day or something, so my colleagues were demob happy, and thoughts of the weekend.
We have the meeting, then on to more meetings, calls and filing the last of the travel expenses. It was for £2.50 and for a toll payment driving back from Wales in March. If I don't fill out the report, they will cancel my company credit card, or something. So I fill out the report, maybe finance's computer will be happy now?
Not much happened through the day. Not even much rain fell either, just a short shower before nine. The garden will continue to look "parched".
In the afternoon I do a second session on the trainer. Another easy one too. I have a shower and change into something clean and comfortable.
Dinner was to be a vegetable extravaganza: breaded aubergine, asparagus and creamed spinach.
It was fabulous, full of flavour and pretty healthy. As long as you don't think of the cheese and cream that went into it.
Cheese and cream: natural, innit?
It seems the earlier we go to bed, the earlier we get up. Maybe there is a pattern?
We listen to the radio, do some bird watching to see what is nicking the fat balls. We still don't know, but a raven or crow are likely.
Anway; goodnight.
Cats to round up, cameras to clean, pack and batteries charge. Maybe suitcase to pack.
But not now.
We are trying to get our money back; its a lengthy process, but we should get it back at some point.
I have five and a half weeks of vacation to take before the end of the year, with half the year nearly gone.
I'm not too knocked out by it to be honest, I would liked to have gone cruising to Norway and Svalbard, but the thought of getting on a cruise ship mostly with people older than us didn't fill be with anticipation. So, the option of getting a refund is good, even if we do have to jump through hoops to do so. People all over the world will be doing this too, I guess.
We are hoping to do something later in the year, virus depending, of course. Top of the list is a motor tour through gastronomic France, with rich food and cheap local wines. What's not to like?If that is impossible, we may go on a boating holiday on the Broads. Me on a boat, what could go wrong?
Well, we shall see, we might be all eating each other by the autumn. Or eating the politicians.
I wake up each morning, turn on the computer and check the internets. What it has been this week is reviewing the videos of police brutality in the US. I am shocked to my core. Not that it is happening, but that it goes on even as they officers know they're being filmed and do it anyway, like they know they'll get away with it anyway. I mean, if there is this many caught on tape, imagine how many such incidents must happen across the country?
And Trump eggs the police on, creating imaginary enemies of the State so he can defend further indefensible acts. The US totters on the edge on an abyss into which it will plunge unless the brutality stops. The Chef of Staff of the Army issued a memo reminding members of the Armed Forces that their loyalty is to the Constitution not the President.Incredible times.
In contrast, my experiences pale to nothing.
It is Thursday; back on the phys, and putting the bins out.
Then work.
This was supposed to be the day that we got what is called "rain". Apparently water can fall from the sky? So, anyway, it meant, again, no going out and yet more meetings.
Jools doesn't go for a walk, instead she dead-heads flowers in the garden. I do 20 minutes on the cross trainer, and have the best session in weeks, hardly out of breath at the end of it. Hardly worth sitting outside to cool down. But I do.
The cats sit beside me, enjoying what would probably be the only sunshine of the day, Mulder looking like his fur was on fire in the warm golden light.But time is getting on; there is breakfast to make, coffee to brew, and Jools has to go to work.
It is a three day week in Denmark, with Friday being Constitution Day or something, so my colleagues were demob happy, and thoughts of the weekend.
We have the meeting, then on to more meetings, calls and filing the last of the travel expenses. It was for £2.50 and for a toll payment driving back from Wales in March. If I don't fill out the report, they will cancel my company credit card, or something. So I fill out the report, maybe finance's computer will be happy now?
Not much happened through the day. Not even much rain fell either, just a short shower before nine. The garden will continue to look "parched".
In the afternoon I do a second session on the trainer. Another easy one too. I have a shower and change into something clean and comfortable.
Dinner was to be a vegetable extravaganza: breaded aubergine, asparagus and creamed spinach.
It was fabulous, full of flavour and pretty healthy. As long as you don't think of the cheese and cream that went into it.
Cheese and cream: natural, innit?
It seems the earlier we go to bed, the earlier we get up. Maybe there is a pattern?
We listen to the radio, do some bird watching to see what is nicking the fat balls. We still don't know, but a raven or crow are likely.
Anway; goodnight.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
