Hancock: gone

The Health Secretary, now former Heath Secretary, fell on his own (pork) sword yesterday, resigning after there was a deafening silence from his once fellow Cabinet Minsters.

He resigned not because of the 20,000 lives lost when hospitals were emptied back in March last year, untested and sent into the petri dishes that were care homes. Absolute carnage raged, thousands upon thousands died.

Nor has he resigned for his part in the PPE scandal, which was brought out because of the dire shortage at the start of the pandemic causing nurses and other staff to wear bin liners and reuse masks. Hundreds of staff died as a result.

He had to partly resign becasue at the time when he was calling for the public to make sacrifices, not meet family or friends, attend marriages, funerals or be able to say one last farwell to a dying loved one. Matt Hancock was kissing his mistriss, in Whitehall.

The interesting this is that someone else in Government had installed a camera in the Health Ministry, and pictures from that were used to skewer Hancock. Who put in the camera, and who leaked the images and film and what is their ulterior motive?

All played out as tens of thousands of people died, and Hancock and other Ministers were enriching their friends.

A story published today in the Sunday Times suggests that Hancock, but other Government Ministers too, used private e mails so to hide information from the Civil Service and other departments, and so to help cover up any potential inquiry.

Was he sacrificed to drown that story out?

Saturday 26th June 2021

The weekend.

I have been pondering on how to recount this tale without revealing the location.

Well, here goes.

Last year southern European Orchid was found in the UK for the first time, in East Kent no less. But the location was kept very quiet. It's reporting began in the 2020 BSBI reports for the two Kent vice-counties (eat and west). Needless to say, people asked and asked, but the location was kept secret. I received a couple of enquiries earlier this year, but I knew nothing, and talking with people better placed and I said the county recorders were not telling.

So far, so dull.

And then early this week pictures began to appear of the orchid in question. It seems that a small group of people had shared the knowledge and were going to snap it.

No one told me.

I called in a couple of half-favours, and I was told the grid reference. I did wonder wether to go Friday evening, but though better of it, and waited to Saturday for a day out taking in this orchid.

So it was that we woke up just gone six to find the shouse and whole village shrouded in fog. Most un-June like to be sure. Should be delay the trip out? I had restless feet, so we leaft home after coffee at half seven, with the fog having cleared and the sun shone from a clear blue sky.

That didn't last, and north of Ashford on the motorway I could see clouds beginning to gather, then the fog swept in, so by the time we reached the area of the orchids, it was bright, but no sun to be seen.

I pulled over to the side of the road, and after getting out of the car, I could see over the fence where there were two Tongue Orchids showing very well, rising above the other vegetation. Some who had arrived already had climbed the fence and flattend other vegetation including orchids in a five foot arc of about 60 degrees; so much destruction to snap two spikes growing next to the fence.

Leaning through I got good enough shots, not needing the 400mm lens i have brought, the macro giving good enough results.

Another car arrived behind us. Three guys got out and we exchanged nods, and they knew that we knew. We made small talk, they were down from Ipswich, they had the information.

A third car arrived, and had to park on the other side, a guy and his girlfriend got out knowing what was here too.

Sigh.

We had a quick breakfast of half a slice of cold cornbread, then drove off back towards the coast for some better know orchids: Musks.

Better known but hard to find.

For some.

The mist cleard, and I think had we stayed another few minutes the shots would have been better, but I was happy with what I had got.

Up Stone Street, then along narrow lanes that wound through dense woodlands, up and down through valleys and over the top of wooded downs, until coming out at the woodland drive leading to Park Gate. We park in the lay by, and Jools went for a walk, while I went into the reserve.

Visiting here through the season means witnessing how much it changes with each passing week. Now with the Monkey having all gone to seed, there are carpets of CSO and Common Fragrants among the long summer grass. Very little evedence of the main season orchids, with the exception of the single Lady that was now turning brown having set seed, and the single arge Greater Butterfly spike at the back of the reserve.

But I knew where to go, into the third paddock, up the right path, and about 50 yards on there was a trampled area, and in a cross made of dried cow poo were seven tiny spikes. I have trained my minions well.

I get the shots I want and wander on looking at the large colony of CSO to see if there were any pure white spikes.

I was being observed by a guy crouching down behind a bush, as I walked back towards the gate he started to follow me too. Athough I had snapped the Musks, I was looking for more, as years back there used to be a fair number of spikes, the path he was following was getting nearer to me, until he got within speaking gange.

He spoke:

Have you seen anything interesting?

Oh yes, lots.

Have you seen any Musk, I've been looking ages.

I saw a good half dozen spikes not 20m from where you're standing I said. I'll show you.

So, we walk along the track, past the faded Lady and to the next trampled area, and in the corner there was the dried cow poo and in the middle: orchids!

I looked there he explaimed, noticed the placing of the dung and failed to see the orchids!

He was rather pleased, as was the young couple who walked over. The chap, a body builder by the looks of it, looked at me sheepily and asked "Musk Orchid?" Jools had sent him over.

So I pointed to the first guy and said when he's done, they're there.

I walk back to the car where Jools was waiting, knowing that i was late because of people and talking to them.

In a change of plan we go to Western Heights in Dover so I could hunt for Small Blue butterflies and also snap some of dozens of CSOs there.

All around the car park is trash for people having late night fast food or a beer or seven. Although the car park is grim, it looks down on Dover and the Priory Station, and to the left the houses spread along Old Folkestone Road. Just up the bank is a large grassed area, full of orchid spikes. On the other side of the road, up the bank leading to the old Commandant's House there are even more, but these are easier to snap.

And inbetween I see the tiny blue butterflies. I manage to snap a couple, so achieve my goal. I collect some rubbish from between the orchids, then walk back to meet up with Jools to drive back home. Via Martin.

A report in last year's BSBI report listed the hyrid between the Lesser and Greater Butterfly Orchid had been recorded less than two miles from Chaz Jelltex. I had hunted at the end of May, but now they should be easier to find, if I was in the right place.

The wood seemed to be too small and the groud covered by a thick carpet of ivy, so we looked in three field margins, but not one orchid was found. Running out of time this season though, one to research for next year perhaps?

We drive home to have lunch and a brew.

I review my shots while we eat and listen to the radio.

Jools went out to have a haircut and get the month's cat food, so the afternoon slipped by.

At five all work stopped as the football kicked off; the beginning of the knock out phase. And first up Wales v Denmark.

And a good game that Denmark grew into, taking the lead before half time, then powering to vicotry in the 2nd. 4-0 was harsh on Wales, but Denmark were ruthless, and derved to go through.

Jools went to pick up a chinese, so we munch that during half time, wih enough left over for me to ave for lunch during the week at least one day.

In the evening it was Italy v Austria, which was a close game with Italy getting two goals into the 30 minutes of extra time, meaning that I did not get to bed until eleven, and I missed the dramtic first day in Le Tour where there were two huge crashes.

And Monday Wimbledon starts too. How are we to keep up?

Friday 25th June 2021

Six months from/to Christmas.

Get those sprouts on!

And apart from spending the day trying not to imagine what Matt Hancock's orgasm face was like, it was a pretty good day.

Jools was up before five, doing stuff, while I laid around until twenty five to six. She had a yoga class to go to, and just had to be in work at seven. Or logged on. You know.

So, she was again, a blur of action until she left at just after ten past six.

And here i am, no me tod.

Jools was to do yoga, then go swimming before coming back to be here when the doctor rang with her blood test results, which the receptionist told her were in. I mention this because when he did call, the doctor had no idea why he was ringing. All is good for Jools.

Meanwhile I logged on at work, there was an update to Windows, that installed and everything worked. Including Outlook which seemed to delight in the two day's mail I had to sort through. It keeps me off the streets.

There is the weekely COVID meeting where we share the news from where we live: me in England, half the team in Denmark, another half in India, one lady in Italy and another in Taiwan. Its mostly good news, except from jollie olde Englande where I tell them the beginnings of a third wave are being felt, with the final unlocking delayed four weeks.

But relaxing has been happening all over. At least in India vaccinations are now reaching those of working age, and are now free.

We have a team meeting to say goodbye to an old colleague, Flemming, who is leaving us to join a rival. The old team gets ever smaller.

Sadly.

Jools goes to Tesco, I stay and have a meeting. Two meetings with my boss, and with some bombshell news ringing in my ear, it is two in the afternoon and I believe the weekend should have started. Bombshell news not affecting me or us, I stress.

And that is it.

Jools had bought ice creams, so we have a peanut butter magnum sitting in the back garden now that the rain had stopped, though it was cold.

I put the radio on, Steve Lamaqc had started; it was the weekend.

And no football today either.

Sigh.

I make cornbread to go with the insalata for dinner. I added som Cardumon seeds to pep it up a bit, and it worked.

We listen to more radio, I take part in the music quiz; no luck this time, and then watch Gardener's World before going to bed at nine.

Phew.

Thursday 24th June 2021

Thursday.

Day two of the great IT clusterfuck, and I log on and find that nothing is working. Not Outlook, not Teams, not having access to my department's folders. Maybe they just fired my ass and failed to tell me?

Jools has been told that she has been working too many hours, and that obs aren't getting done. So, should she work less or work more?

Moden life's troubles.

It was to be a glorious day; lots of sunshine, light winds, although it was to turn cooler and cloudy later with rain overnight. It turned out there was just one cloud on the horizon; no football until Saturday!

How is this possible? We have had football almost every day for a year, and now we are supposed to last two who days without people falling over for no reason? How will we cope?

I don't know how I had the strength to go on to be honest, but I do.

I have breakfast and then a meeting with the ever-shrinking band of colleagues from the old company. We have a collective moaning session, it doesn't change anything, but helps saying stuff and swearing.

I restart the computer a number or times, nothing works.

So, at ten I went for a walk.

Not far, just along over the fields, heading down the diagonal path to check on the poppy field I had been told about, only to find out it had been harvested.

Too late, the hero.

Elsewhere fields were full of a mix of old crops and wildflowers, including huge amounts of Pineappleweed and Field Pansy.

I snap them all.

Back on the path I find several groups of Fumitories; not sure if they're the rare Dense Flowered or Common Ramping species. I will try to find out, though easily missed.

The butterfly glade is now so overgrown wth brambles and teasles that there is no entering it, which means that the butterflies will go unchased, which is fine, but it will soon turn to woodland and be lost.

So it goes, so it goes.

I walk up to Windy Ridge, down past the farm which is all a sea of mud thanks to the unseasonal rain we have had this spring. And no sign of it drying up really. Normally by now the chalk and mud had dried to be as hard a concrete, but not this year. So plants and flowers are thriving.

Up at Windy Ridge I snap a Meadow Brown and Holly Blue, both just paused to bask, though both flew off after I rattled of a couple of shots. Though on the way down back home I came across a Small Tortoiseshell feeding on a spear thistle, too hungry to be bothered by me. I took dozens of shots.

Back home, restart the laptop, and nothing works still.

I have my phone, so if there are urgent matters, I can be contacted.

I have lunch.

And then settle down after restarting the laptop again. I try to open a mail and Outlook freezes for the nth time that day.

And outside the sunshine wanes, a breeze builds and it gets chilly.

By six it was trying to rain, and felt like March again. I cook breaded aubergine dor dinner, being the Cgairman of the Aubergine Marketing Board, I have keep up appearances don'tcha know?

And after clearing up, we listen to the wireless, have a coffee, and relax, and with no football, I could go to bed at the sensible time of nine, with it still being almost fully light outside.

Orchidiots

I like an orchid or two, and on that I cannot lie.

I try to keep the mania within the boundaries of Kent, where possible. And try to pass on the knowldge and passion to others, mainly in my FB group, but sometimes to those I meet out "in the field".

But, the orchid world is competitive, and some want to be top dogs.

I first saw it when two friends, who both knew more than I about orchids and other plants, so who have so much in common and yet hated each other. And still do.

Who knew most, or if one made a mistake was mocked by the other.

I liked both, to be honest, and let them get on with it.

And then one demanded, demanded, I tell them the site of a reserve in Norfolk that I once visited, and how to get there. I did what I could, but that wasn't enough, so I tried to explain, but apparently I owed them.

I failed to respond to further mails, defriended them on social media sites, so they now post shots of plants claimed to have been seen in the county in the hope I will ask them. I'm guessing that's the reason, but who knows and cares, to be honest.

And then, on a related matter, though different people:

Last year a new species was found in the county, it was reported, but no one was sharing the location. News was that it was beside a motorway, and the only person who seemed to know for sure was the county recorder, who wasn't telling anyone, not even the BSBI.

And then on Tuesday, shots of it appeared on various social media. A fine looking orchid, but conditions were made of being shared the location that certain well-known people in the orchid field could not be told.

So sad, so childish.

And then one of them tried to post shots in my group.

All this leaves a sour taste in the mouth, that people I have helped in the past would actively stop each other from knowing locations of a rare orchid to show they know more.

In the end, is it worth it?

Tory "corruption made flesh" by the Health Secretary.

Health Secretary, Matt Hancock, featured on the front page of The Sun, in a clinch with his female advsor.

Who was his best friend nd universtity.

Who he employed as advsor at a cost to the public purse of £150,000 per annum.

This is the main reason for demanding he resign.

That he broke COVID regulations in meeting and kissing is secondary.

That his poor family found out on the newsstands this morning is a family tragedy. Johnson, who gets to decide f the "Ministerial Code" has been broken, a man, let us not forget, who won't say exactly how many children he has fathered. Who cheated on his cancer stricken wife, and then cheated on his wife and mistress with an "IT advisor" and provided her with over £100k of public funds. Johnson has full faith in Hancock.

A chip off the block, I'd say.

Which raises the question, what would a Minister have to do be be forced to resign or be sacked?

And the answer is , of course, nothing.

If the PM can get away with it, so can his Cabinet. Shagging, lying, corruption, bullying; all fine and not in breach of the code, apparently.

Welcome to the new Camelot.

Wednesday 23rd June 2021

Welcome to Wednesday.

Not much to report today.

I should have gone for a walk as it was sunny-ish, but my heart wasn't in it. So, did more gardening, thinned out the raspberry cames so that the fruit we will get should ripen.

What elese did happen was IT disaster. And is still going on. I opened one e mail and that was fine, the next one crashed Outlook, and needed to be closed down. I rebooted the computer, tried again with a different mail, and same thing happened.

On top of that, Teams stopped working. And other functionality of Office Online was denied.

Sigh.

I know I was expecting shit, but this was worse than I thought.

I did have three meetings in the morning, the Teams from the old company still works, so could join. But as a guest.

But it works, and we all act as spanners in the works of a functioning meeting, which is only right.

At least I have the cats. And coffee.

Poppy seems to have reached the point in which she seems happy in the house, even if it takes her half an hour to decide to actually go out the front door, rather than stare at it out like a very dull episode of The Sweeny. But with kittens. In fact, we have had them for nearly 11 months, and although Poppy has grown a little, Cleo hasn't, and still looks like a kitten.

Such joy.

I do gardening after work, pull up some more weeds. Wild carrot. Smooth Sowthistle. THen have a brew.

Dinner is breaded chicken, noodles and stir fry. Another triumph, though you'd expect nothing less, really.

And then there is football: first up Spain v Slovakia, I think. Spain were slow in the first half, then get a fluke goal when the Slovakian keeper flapped a cross into his own net. Second half it was bonkers, Spain scoring four more, missing five more too.

And then for the grand showdow, the final games of Group F: Germany v Hungary and Portugal v France. Through the game, as scores went up, all four teams in the group lead it, then as both games ended 2-2, France and Germany went through with Portugal picking up one of the best 3rd place finishes.

A mad, but brilliant evening.

We went to bed and saw the near full moon hanging away to the south east.