It began with Billy Beamish on leave from barracks in Autumn 1943, and one last night with his wife, Emma, produced, nine months later a daughter. My Mother.
Yesterday, the final act was her estate closed down all creditors having been paid. One company failed to provide a replacement cheque for about £100.00, and we have been waiting since February for that, for it to never come.
As we come to the end of the year, fourteen months after Mum passed, I gave instructions to my solicitor to close business.
As eleven yesterday the papers came to sign. I posted them back, signed. And by the end of tomorrow the file will be closed and the final payment made to me. There's not much left, but we have managed to pay the mortgage, anything else is a bonus.
Jools asked me this week if I missed Mum. I don't to be honest. As I have said before, the person who I remember as my Mum died over two decades ago. What was left was a shadow, a hint of what she was before.
Over the years I tried to get MUm to change, but it failed. So, I learned to live with it. She was old enough, and sensible enough, to know her mind, and had worked long and hard enough to decide how she would live and take the consequences.
One of those consequences was, in the last three years of her life, the weekly phone calls stopping. Mum thought I was joking, but I wasn't. What point is there of calling if there is no news. She never did anything, or if she had she failed to mention it lest it annoy me, as usually it involved her having an accident of some kind. She failed to mention numerous stays and visits to hospital, after she had fallen and the fire brigade had to be called to help her up. Ot the time she lost control of her buggy in the bank, hit the wall so hard the TV fell of the wall and cut her head open.
She failed to tell me that.
And then there was the smoking.
And the lying about it.
At least at the end she was honest about it, but not even a major heart attack changed her, and promises to me and her surgeon to not start were broken. The coffin nails was bound to get her sooner or later, and two years from that major heart attack, one final one got her.
What little I did was out of respect not for Mum, but for her cleaner, Sheila, who would have to step into the breach, visit her in hospital, go shopping or whatever Mum thought she needed, failing to pay Sheila for the work she should have been doing, and expecting her to run these errands for free.
Since Mum passed, we have seen Sheila right, no amount of money can replace the feeling of being used. And even if Sheila had seen it from other customers of hers over the years, when it is your own Mother, it is embarassing. I think we sw Sheila OK, she still speaks to us, so must be good.
So, memories fade. The pain, the heated words, the herd of elephants in the room. All of it has either faded or has gone.
There is noting else to do now. Just live our life.
Thursday, 3 December 2020
Debenhams and fishing
Since January 2020, the UK Government and the EU have been discussing fishing.
Fishing rights.
Judging from press releases and leaks this week, it seems almost no progress has been made in those 11 months.
For the UK Government is a totem on which is is detirmined to hang the rest of the UK economy from. As we have discussed before, 80% of the fish the UK catches, it exports, and 80% of the fish it eats, it imports from the EU. Including almost all cod.
Notwithstanding that, a number of UK registered fishing vessels have sold their registrations to foreign captains and/or companies. So when the UK talks about UK fishing fleet it is likely it is not all the vessels that fish in UK waters or even sail from UK ports.
In total, approx 12,000 UK citizens work in the fishing industry, on ships, ports, markets and processing plants. The UK Government is prepared, and has done, hold the rest of the economy to ransome to protect the livelihood of these 12,00 people. That is 70 million people and the businesses where they work.
All for fishing.
Just by chancem in a week of High Street failure, Debenhams has entered administration and likely will not survive. It also employs about 12,000 people, the Government hardly said a word.
How the livelihodds of one 12,000 set of people is more important than any other group of 12,000 let alone the rest of the country is another thing. But it seems that the Government is willing to throw all other areas of the economy, including services and financial servies under the bus to protect fishing, an industry that doesn't supply us with the food we eat, just what we export, and the rules of either a deal or no deal make such exports uneconomical.
It is madness.
Even writing it down just makes clear how mad all of this is.
Fishing rights.
Judging from press releases and leaks this week, it seems almost no progress has been made in those 11 months.
For the UK Government is a totem on which is is detirmined to hang the rest of the UK economy from. As we have discussed before, 80% of the fish the UK catches, it exports, and 80% of the fish it eats, it imports from the EU. Including almost all cod.
Notwithstanding that, a number of UK registered fishing vessels have sold their registrations to foreign captains and/or companies. So when the UK talks about UK fishing fleet it is likely it is not all the vessels that fish in UK waters or even sail from UK ports.
In total, approx 12,000 UK citizens work in the fishing industry, on ships, ports, markets and processing plants. The UK Government is prepared, and has done, hold the rest of the economy to ransome to protect the livelihood of these 12,00 people. That is 70 million people and the businesses where they work.
All for fishing.
Just by chancem in a week of High Street failure, Debenhams has entered administration and likely will not survive. It also employs about 12,000 people, the Government hardly said a word.
How the livelihodds of one 12,000 set of people is more important than any other group of 12,000 let alone the rest of the country is another thing. But it seems that the Government is willing to throw all other areas of the economy, including services and financial servies under the bus to protect fishing, an industry that doesn't supply us with the food we eat, just what we export, and the rules of either a deal or no deal make such exports uneconomical.
It is madness.
Even writing it down just makes clear how mad all of this is.
In Brexit, the first casualty is truth
As I wrote yesterday, many MInisters, including the Prime MInister, claimed that having left the EU meant the UK could allow the start of vaccinations using the Pfizer vaccine.
As much as I am proud of my country, that the vaccine was invented by two Turkish immigrants, funded by Germany and will be manufactured in Belgium, what the UK can claim is they bought it first.
And the purchase and approval was all done in accordance with EU rules, becasue we are in the transition period, and the UK is abiding by all such rules.
But don't let some simple facts get in the way of using nationalism to justify the bag of shit that is Brexit.
And when their bullshit is called out, they whine why are we putting the country down all the time.
It is likely the UK fast tracked purchase and approval so the vaccine gets to the UK before January 1st, when there might be delays at ports and airports.
But that's another minor matter in Brexiteers tiny brains.
The sourcing of a vaccine, several vaccines, has not been the quest of a single country, but cooperation between many countries on a vast scale, so the most vunerable around the globe can be treated first.
As much as I am proud of my country, that the vaccine was invented by two Turkish immigrants, funded by Germany and will be manufactured in Belgium, what the UK can claim is they bought it first.
And the purchase and approval was all done in accordance with EU rules, becasue we are in the transition period, and the UK is abiding by all such rules.
But don't let some simple facts get in the way of using nationalism to justify the bag of shit that is Brexit.
And when their bullshit is called out, they whine why are we putting the country down all the time.
It is likely the UK fast tracked purchase and approval so the vaccine gets to the UK before January 1st, when there might be delays at ports and airports.
But that's another minor matter in Brexiteers tiny brains.
The sourcing of a vaccine, several vaccines, has not been the quest of a single country, but cooperation between many countries on a vast scale, so the most vunerable around the globe can be treated first.
Wednesday, 2 December 2020
Tuesday 1st December 2020
I drove up to Teeside yesterday.
I chose my hotel well, so it had fine views of the transporter bridge, so I could spend all evening marvelling at its wonderful engineering.
And this morning, I drove the twenty miles to Blyth to carry out the audit. Views over the harbour were spectacular, although I was there for work, I got some shots.
And once the day was done, I drove back to the hotel to process the day and write my report.
That would have been the last two days without COVID.
As it was, I spent Tuesday at home, as I did Monday. No long drive up to Dartford, then round to the M11 and then up the A1 though Nottinghamshire, Yorkshire and Durham. No I laid in bed until the alarm went off, Jool got up, I laid in the dark, waiting for some kind of light to show at the window, not just the bathroom light from next door.
Waiting for me downstairs was a fresh cup of Java. I drink that, check the interwebs, and then as Jools is getting ready to leave the house, so a session on the cross trainer. It clanks, rattles and shakes like it was about to give up. But I see through to the end of the session.
Jools had left for work, so I am all hot and bothered, so fill up the bird feeders, make breakfast, and put th coffee pot on.
Although I had not travelled, I still have an audit to do, and will have to do it via MS Teams, which gets the job done, but isn't as good and the headphones make my ears sweat. Ear sweat is something new to worry about in 2020.
But other stuff is, like people breathing on you, or licking door knobs.
I digress.
I have breakfast, and look at my phone as our new SIM card from work should be working. Mine isn't.
I e mail IT.
Have you tried turning it off and on again?
What'd'you think, Bub?
They raise a "ticket" and I am told to wait.
I have no had a personal mobile for nearly ten years. Just the work one. I hardly use it, and don't miss it when its not working, certainly when I'm not travelling.
Can you cope? they ask.
I believe I can.
So life goes on, without a mobile. Its been two weeks since I changed the SIM and the phone stopped working. I haven't missed it.
At nine the audit begins.
An audit is a series of questions that a bloody know-it-all (me) gets to ask and the person on the other end has to answer.
We finish at three int he afternoon. I had been talking pretty much non-stop for six hours, and my throat rebelled. I could not stop coughing.
I should write the report, but I give in and make a brew. It makes no difference.
Time passes.
And the cough fades, as does the day. I had done my job, just the follow up to do now.
I should have done a session on the trainer, but my legs said to my brain, are you bloody serious? I don't argue.
Instead I have a shower and change into nice clean clothes.
It is getting dark, I fill the tray with food for the badgers, feed the cats and kittens.
Dinner was fish cakes with fried potatoes and fresh corn, though fresh corn;s days must be numbered as we move into the twelfth month.
I have the other half of the Grande Reserve, and was as good as Monday's glass.
We tidy up, and have a slice of the orange poppyseed cake I made once the audit was done.
It was excellent.
There was football, but no Norwich, so I write nad half pay attention to the game.
Bed at ten, the cats had long given up, as had Jools.
It was dark outside.
And cold.
The full moon had risen in the east, and now sone, coldly, down through light clouds onto the downland.
Night all.
I chose my hotel well, so it had fine views of the transporter bridge, so I could spend all evening marvelling at its wonderful engineering.
And this morning, I drove the twenty miles to Blyth to carry out the audit. Views over the harbour were spectacular, although I was there for work, I got some shots.
And once the day was done, I drove back to the hotel to process the day and write my report.
That would have been the last two days without COVID.
As it was, I spent Tuesday at home, as I did Monday. No long drive up to Dartford, then round to the M11 and then up the A1 though Nottinghamshire, Yorkshire and Durham. No I laid in bed until the alarm went off, Jool got up, I laid in the dark, waiting for some kind of light to show at the window, not just the bathroom light from next door.
Waiting for me downstairs was a fresh cup of Java. I drink that, check the interwebs, and then as Jools is getting ready to leave the house, so a session on the cross trainer. It clanks, rattles and shakes like it was about to give up. But I see through to the end of the session.
Jools had left for work, so I am all hot and bothered, so fill up the bird feeders, make breakfast, and put th coffee pot on.Although I had not travelled, I still have an audit to do, and will have to do it via MS Teams, which gets the job done, but isn't as good and the headphones make my ears sweat. Ear sweat is something new to worry about in 2020.
But other stuff is, like people breathing on you, or licking door knobs.
I digress.
I have breakfast, and look at my phone as our new SIM card from work should be working. Mine isn't.
I e mail IT.
Have you tried turning it off and on again?
What'd'you think, Bub?
They raise a "ticket" and I am told to wait.
I have no had a personal mobile for nearly ten years. Just the work one. I hardly use it, and don't miss it when its not working, certainly when I'm not travelling.
Can you cope? they ask.
I believe I can.
So life goes on, without a mobile. Its been two weeks since I changed the SIM and the phone stopped working. I haven't missed it.
At nine the audit begins.
An audit is a series of questions that a bloody know-it-all (me) gets to ask and the person on the other end has to answer.
We finish at three int he afternoon. I had been talking pretty much non-stop for six hours, and my throat rebelled. I could not stop coughing.
I should write the report, but I give in and make a brew. It makes no difference.
Time passes.
And the cough fades, as does the day. I had done my job, just the follow up to do now.
I should have done a session on the trainer, but my legs said to my brain, are you bloody serious? I don't argue.
Instead I have a shower and change into nice clean clothes.
It is getting dark, I fill the tray with food for the badgers, feed the cats and kittens.
Dinner was fish cakes with fried potatoes and fresh corn, though fresh corn;s days must be numbered as we move into the twelfth month.
I have the other half of the Grande Reserve, and was as good as Monday's glass.
We tidy up, and have a slice of the orange poppyseed cake I made once the audit was done.
It was excellent.
There was football, but no Norwich, so I write nad half pay attention to the game.
Bed at ten, the cats had long given up, as had Jools.
It was dark outside.
And cold.
The full moon had risen in the east, and now sone, coldly, down through light clouds onto the downland.
Night all.
Clutching at straws
A short post today. Not much on Brexit, as conflicting reports stating talks are in the tunnel not in the tunnel or what tunnel.
It matters not a jot that with each passing day things are less likely to get ratified.
Huge gaps remain on both sides, mainly on the issues as stated, but Governance is the real issue. How will adherance to what is agreed be policed and who can dole out punishment for those that break the agreement.
That it will be the UK who will be the party breaking and the EU the hurt party, the UK doesn't want any mediation to be done by any finction that as European links, or EU links.
Meanwhile the UK Government has said it will reinsert the clauses back into the IMB that "allows" the same Government to break laws, and is doing this again on another bill.
If a deal is to be done, these will have to be dropped, and not brought back into play.
Every day there is the thought that this madness cannot go on, and yet it does. Johnson looks more like Worzel Gummidge with each passing day, as the strain of leadership takes its toll. It is what he wanted. He was ripped to pieces in PMQs again today.
Yesterday, 70 Tory MPs either voted against the Government or abstained in the debate granting the all tier SI. It only passed because Labour also abstained, it did this so not to create a public health emergency, but has grave misgivings about the plan, but that is better than the legislation failing.
The Tory rebelion is growing, which does not bode well if come the end of the month or early next month a vote on a deal with the EU has to be passed. For a PM less than a year since an election with an 80 seat majority, it is quite remarkable, but even the ERG know when they have elected a clown.
Meanwhile the Heath Secretary, JRM among others clained that that the approval in the UK of the first COVID vaccine showed that Brexit had benefits as being an EU member would have slowed this down. THis is an actual lie, but that a vaccine developed by to Turks, funded by Germany and Spain, manufactured in Belgium should be an indication of UK leading the world is shamess, and yet the Government has no shame.
And although this is wonderful news, bear in mind that we need this bunch of uselss twats to be able to organise vaccinations for the whole country, 70 million plus people.
It matters not a jot that with each passing day things are less likely to get ratified.
Huge gaps remain on both sides, mainly on the issues as stated, but Governance is the real issue. How will adherance to what is agreed be policed and who can dole out punishment for those that break the agreement.
That it will be the UK who will be the party breaking and the EU the hurt party, the UK doesn't want any mediation to be done by any finction that as European links, or EU links.
Meanwhile the UK Government has said it will reinsert the clauses back into the IMB that "allows" the same Government to break laws, and is doing this again on another bill.
If a deal is to be done, these will have to be dropped, and not brought back into play.
Every day there is the thought that this madness cannot go on, and yet it does. Johnson looks more like Worzel Gummidge with each passing day, as the strain of leadership takes its toll. It is what he wanted. He was ripped to pieces in PMQs again today.
Yesterday, 70 Tory MPs either voted against the Government or abstained in the debate granting the all tier SI. It only passed because Labour also abstained, it did this so not to create a public health emergency, but has grave misgivings about the plan, but that is better than the legislation failing.
The Tory rebelion is growing, which does not bode well if come the end of the month or early next month a vote on a deal with the EU has to be passed. For a PM less than a year since an election with an 80 seat majority, it is quite remarkable, but even the ERG know when they have elected a clown.
Meanwhile the Heath Secretary, JRM among others clained that that the approval in the UK of the first COVID vaccine showed that Brexit had benefits as being an EU member would have slowed this down. THis is an actual lie, but that a vaccine developed by to Turks, funded by Germany and Spain, manufactured in Belgium should be an indication of UK leading the world is shamess, and yet the Government has no shame.
And although this is wonderful news, bear in mind that we need this bunch of uselss twats to be able to organise vaccinations for the whole country, 70 million plus people.
Tuesday, 1 December 2020
Monday 30th November 2020
Hey, hey, it's Monday again. People say we Monday around.
And so on.
Being a Monday, Jools was back to work for the first of her two working days, meaning I would left in the house, in charge of all I survey. If the cats let me.
The alarm goes off at five, I try to go back to sleep, but fail, so instead listen to the sounds of the house as it wakes up; water running in the pipes, the sound of the kettle boiling, the cat flap going. Then my body tells me that we have to get up.
So I do.
It is still dark outside, of course, and would be for nearly 90 minutes. Jools rushes around getting ready for work, while I surf the net seeing if the world had changed. And I have to say, that something have changed, and not for the worse. And yes I am talking about you, Donald.
At quarter to seven, Jools leaves the house, and I go up to do a session the cross trainer. I check the bolts and such, and in doing so find the left hand crank arm is looser than a loose thing. And no matter how tight I screw the nut on, it makes no difference. I climb on and get going, and soon am lost in my thoughts as the radio burbles away to itself.
I finish by quarter past seven, have time to go downstairs to make breakfast and a second coffee all so I can be ready to sit at the table and log on ready for the first meeting at half seven.
I do it with three minutes to spare.
We have the first half hour meeting, then jump straight into another auditors meetings, as auditors can't have enough meetings about audits apparently. That takes us to nine, and that gives me half an hour before I have to leave the house.
I had to go out to the surgery yesterday morning, so I took the quick way there, up and down Station Road before cutting through the village.
Not much change, even in lockdown, though playtime at the school, and the children's laughter and screams filled the air.
After picking up the pills, I was back through the village, then out along the Kingsdown road out into the countryside, along the top of the other side of The Dip. Just one cyclist passed me, me hearing the thrum of the tyre treads before he passed, so I could step to one side and not be mown down.
I turn down Norway Drove, with the Dip below me and Fleet House lost in the mist the other side.
At the bottom, the mud had dried enough so I could pick a path through the muddy pools before going up the final hill to Collingwood before turning for home.
Job done.
Along the final stretch I check the winter heliotropes at the junction with the small lane, and see at least half a dozen sweet smelling spikes showing above the green heart-shaped leaves. I resolve to return on the next sunny day to snap them.
I make do with a shot with the nifty fifty and walk back down the narrow path between the houses then along to home.
Dinner was the leftover corned beef hash mix, with I do cook as hash, frying it in butter in the frying pan and chopping the mix up until there was more golden crisp than soft mash.
I sprinkle with the resulting much with sea salt and frsh ground pepper and the result was stunning.
And back to work.
And I find no one had really missed me while I was away, so ready up on some documents and plan for more training courses in the new year.
The afternoon passes.
My achy legs suggest what with the workout that morning, and the walk to and from the quack's, walking back down and up the Dip meaning they convinced me not to do any afternoon phys. I have a shower instead and feel relaxed.
Dinner is to be pizza and beer. Pizza just shop-bought ones, but the beer was Belgium's finest, Chimay Grande Reserve.
And once Jools was home, I pop them in the oven and get the beer out of the fridge, not too chilled, and pop the cork which sounds like champagne.
Tastes better.
The pizzas come out of the oven, I plate them up after slicing and sample the 2020 vintage of the grande reserve. It was as good as expected.
And it was an evening of writing and football, as West Ham played Villa, I'm sure David Cameron didn't know which one to support. A fair game, with the Hammers win 2-1.
Next up: December.
And so on.
Being a Monday, Jools was back to work for the first of her two working days, meaning I would left in the house, in charge of all I survey. If the cats let me.
The alarm goes off at five, I try to go back to sleep, but fail, so instead listen to the sounds of the house as it wakes up; water running in the pipes, the sound of the kettle boiling, the cat flap going. Then my body tells me that we have to get up.
So I do.It is still dark outside, of course, and would be for nearly 90 minutes. Jools rushes around getting ready for work, while I surf the net seeing if the world had changed. And I have to say, that something have changed, and not for the worse. And yes I am talking about you, Donald.
At quarter to seven, Jools leaves the house, and I go up to do a session the cross trainer. I check the bolts and such, and in doing so find the left hand crank arm is looser than a loose thing. And no matter how tight I screw the nut on, it makes no difference. I climb on and get going, and soon am lost in my thoughts as the radio burbles away to itself.
I finish by quarter past seven, have time to go downstairs to make breakfast and a second coffee all so I can be ready to sit at the table and log on ready for the first meeting at half seven.
I do it with three minutes to spare.We have the first half hour meeting, then jump straight into another auditors meetings, as auditors can't have enough meetings about audits apparently. That takes us to nine, and that gives me half an hour before I have to leave the house.
I had to go out to the surgery yesterday morning, so I took the quick way there, up and down Station Road before cutting through the village.
Not much change, even in lockdown, though playtime at the school, and the children's laughter and screams filled the air.
After picking up the pills, I was back through the village, then out along the Kingsdown road out into the countryside, along the top of the other side of The Dip. Just one cyclist passed me, me hearing the thrum of the tyre treads before he passed, so I could step to one side and not be mown down.
I turn down Norway Drove, with the Dip below me and Fleet House lost in the mist the other side.At the bottom, the mud had dried enough so I could pick a path through the muddy pools before going up the final hill to Collingwood before turning for home.
Job done.Along the final stretch I check the winter heliotropes at the junction with the small lane, and see at least half a dozen sweet smelling spikes showing above the green heart-shaped leaves. I resolve to return on the next sunny day to snap them.
I make do with a shot with the nifty fifty and walk back down the narrow path between the houses then along to home.
Dinner was the leftover corned beef hash mix, with I do cook as hash, frying it in butter in the frying pan and chopping the mix up until there was more golden crisp than soft mash.
I sprinkle with the resulting much with sea salt and frsh ground pepper and the result was stunning.And back to work.
And I find no one had really missed me while I was away, so ready up on some documents and plan for more training courses in the new year.
The afternoon passes.My achy legs suggest what with the workout that morning, and the walk to and from the quack's, walking back down and up the Dip meaning they convinced me not to do any afternoon phys. I have a shower instead and feel relaxed.
Dinner is to be pizza and beer. Pizza just shop-bought ones, but the beer was Belgium's finest, Chimay Grande Reserve.
And once Jools was home, I pop them in the oven and get the beer out of the fridge, not too chilled, and pop the cork which sounds like champagne.Tastes better.
The pizzas come out of the oven, I plate them up after slicing and sample the 2020 vintage of the grande reserve. It was as good as expected.
And it was an evening of writing and football, as West Ham played Villa, I'm sure David Cameron didn't know which one to support. A fair game, with the Hammers win 2-1.
Next up: December.
March again
On March 2019, political Brexit was due to happen, that would have given the UK and EU 21 months to negotiate the outstanding issues.
The original palm, as by Vote leave for the referendum, was that the negotiations would happen first, all major issues agreed before the A50 note which was sent, meaning that the two year period would be a formality.
The reason this did not happen cannot all be laid at the door of the Brexiteers, DD went to meet Mr Barnier for the first time, prepared for the "battle of the summer" over the sequencing of the talks.
For some reason, DD did not fight, instead he gave into the EU on sequencing, meaning that some substansive issues would be agreed first, and only when they were done would the rest be discussed.
So, talke began, and a series of decisions by May meant that Brexit meant hard Brexit, migrants were citizens of nowhere, apart from British ex-pats, of course who were promised nothing would change for them. Leaving both the SM and CU meant hard Brexit, and really limits the deal that can be done on trade, and as ever I refer you back to the sliding scale of trade and control; the more you have of one the less you have of the other.
Though the UK has never accepted this, taking cakism to new extremes.
But the driving force in what May did, and Johnson followed was try to balance trade and deals for the country and keeping the hardline Euro-sceptic Tory backbenchers onside.
In the end, something has to give, and with each month it ws the headbangers that were pandered to. To the point now that no deal isn't hard enough, we must break laws, domestic and international, to create the illusion of a break with Europe.
Yet at the same time of breaking with the EU accepting the same or worse terms from the US, Japan and other countries.
Hope was pinned on a trade deal with the US, Trump would make it happpen, only he lost the election. He might try ever more extreme things to cling to power, but process in the US is clear, the Presidency will leave him on 20th January 2021.
And Biden has made it clear to the UK, honour your international commitments, and don't do anything to harm the GFA or peace on Ireland. Warnings came in September from Biden about this, and from the Senate that said even in a Trump victory, no trade deal if the GFA is threatened or worse.
So, here we are, 31 days away from economic Brexit, not ready for trade with the EU in most aspects, the threat of destruction of entire secotors of the economy, and the US not impressed either.
All this coupled with the UK the worse perfoming European nations, apart from Italy, in relation to infection rates, having the spent the most money on support for business, and the recession so much worse than almost any other country. The hit from COVID is going to be very bad, and worse than it would have been had lockdowns in March and November earlier so needed to be have been less strict, then Brexit will be twice as worse. And last for years, and the recovery might never catch up to where it was in June 2016.
Odd then that many Brexiteers are demanding that financial impact assessments be revealed for the three lockdown levels due to take effect from tonight, due to the worry on economy and choldren's health and prospects. The very same people who have denied the need for such impact assessments for any flavour of Brexit, and only last month all Tory MPs voted to deny the poorest children meals over the Christmas holidays, only to have to undertake another u-turn days later.
Every month since March 2019 has been just an extension, doubled with the fact that life has been on hold in the UK since 23rd March this year, and so December is just another March, but the final day will bring changes that cannot be avoided or quickly reversed.
The original palm, as by Vote leave for the referendum, was that the negotiations would happen first, all major issues agreed before the A50 note which was sent, meaning that the two year period would be a formality.
The reason this did not happen cannot all be laid at the door of the Brexiteers, DD went to meet Mr Barnier for the first time, prepared for the "battle of the summer" over the sequencing of the talks.
For some reason, DD did not fight, instead he gave into the EU on sequencing, meaning that some substansive issues would be agreed first, and only when they were done would the rest be discussed.
So, talke began, and a series of decisions by May meant that Brexit meant hard Brexit, migrants were citizens of nowhere, apart from British ex-pats, of course who were promised nothing would change for them. Leaving both the SM and CU meant hard Brexit, and really limits the deal that can be done on trade, and as ever I refer you back to the sliding scale of trade and control; the more you have of one the less you have of the other.
Though the UK has never accepted this, taking cakism to new extremes.
But the driving force in what May did, and Johnson followed was try to balance trade and deals for the country and keeping the hardline Euro-sceptic Tory backbenchers onside.
In the end, something has to give, and with each month it ws the headbangers that were pandered to. To the point now that no deal isn't hard enough, we must break laws, domestic and international, to create the illusion of a break with Europe.
Yet at the same time of breaking with the EU accepting the same or worse terms from the US, Japan and other countries.
Hope was pinned on a trade deal with the US, Trump would make it happpen, only he lost the election. He might try ever more extreme things to cling to power, but process in the US is clear, the Presidency will leave him on 20th January 2021.
And Biden has made it clear to the UK, honour your international commitments, and don't do anything to harm the GFA or peace on Ireland. Warnings came in September from Biden about this, and from the Senate that said even in a Trump victory, no trade deal if the GFA is threatened or worse.
So, here we are, 31 days away from economic Brexit, not ready for trade with the EU in most aspects, the threat of destruction of entire secotors of the economy, and the US not impressed either.
All this coupled with the UK the worse perfoming European nations, apart from Italy, in relation to infection rates, having the spent the most money on support for business, and the recession so much worse than almost any other country. The hit from COVID is going to be very bad, and worse than it would have been had lockdowns in March and November earlier so needed to be have been less strict, then Brexit will be twice as worse. And last for years, and the recovery might never catch up to where it was in June 2016.
Odd then that many Brexiteers are demanding that financial impact assessments be revealed for the three lockdown levels due to take effect from tonight, due to the worry on economy and choldren's health and prospects. The very same people who have denied the need for such impact assessments for any flavour of Brexit, and only last month all Tory MPs voted to deny the poorest children meals over the Christmas holidays, only to have to undertake another u-turn days later.
Every month since March 2019 has been just an extension, doubled with the fact that life has been on hold in the UK since 23rd March this year, and so December is just another March, but the final day will bring changes that cannot be avoided or quickly reversed.
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