Sunday 4th August 2024

For the last year, our friend Ange has been preparing to swim the Channel as part of a relay team.

Not only is the actual swim hard, the training and preparation are hard too.

There's the qualification swims, which prove to those who allow such swims that you are in fact safe to do so.

I say this, because at dusk on Sunday night, she and the other three swimmers and their support boat set off for France, across the busiest shipping lanes in the world.

As for us, the same old, same old.

And as hard as it is to believe, the orchid season is drawing to an end, and the final two Kent species to see in flower. I knew the Autumn Lady's Tresses were in flower, somewhere on the down above Dover, and hoped the Violet Helleborines I saw two weeks back would be in flower.

I went alone, meeting a new guy from the orchid group in the car park behind the old George and Dragon. He was there when I arrived, we greeted, and once I had my camera and walking pole, we set off.

Up through the woods, along the edge of the meadow, up the path in the hedge and out onto the grassy tops of the down, along the deep path, through the gate and down, down through the long grass.

Now, could I find a spike or two?

It took maybe ten minutes, but I spotted the first spike, then Damian saw a larger, almost perfect spike. So we both got shots, then up to the path, through the gates and into the paddock to look for more, and Autumn Gentians.

I was hoping we'd find loads, and soon enough we did, but not many flowers open thanks to the overcast, but bright, conditions.

No Silver Spotted Skippers though, and few other butterflies at all, just a couple of Marbled Whites and possibly a fresh Common Blue seen, though they were flighty and I could not get a shot.

We walked back to the car, on the way we discussed other things, and he said he knew a site with hundreds of Yellow Birdsnests, which happened to be near the Violet Helleborines that he wanted to see.

We drove in convoy to the A2, then to Kingston and out to a layby, and just in the wood were perhaps a hundred Yellow Birsdnest, most now past their best, but a fab find.

There was more further up, but time was against us, so stopping to snap a couple of Broad Leaved Helleborines, I lead us to the parking spaces, then up the edge of the wood, climbing all the time until we reached the top of the wooded down.

On the way, I stopped to show him where Lady could be found, and Birdsnest, and just into the wood there was another 120 Yellow Birdsnest.

I had the clumps of Violet Helleborines saved to what3words, but within 20 metres, I could see the two flowering spikes beside a mature beech tree, faintly glowing in the diffused light.

We found up to 30 spikes in all, some way behind the two flowering spikes, but showing that not all got munched by snails.

It was half eleven, I was hot and hungry and had done 10,000 steps, so I bid Damian farewell, and I walked back down to the car, then out back to the A2 and home.

We had a brew and a bar of chocolate, not too much so Jools could go swimming an hour later.

When she came back I cooked pizza and we had one each and beer/cider, then struggled to stay awake through the afternoon.

I put the moth trap out in the evening, cooked bacon butties for supper, and the weekend was done.

But for Ange, the great adventure was just beginning.

Saturday 3rd August 2024

A walk round Dover yesterday.

We had gone to Tesco first thing, I mean earlier than normal, there before seven and back home, have breakfast put the shopping away and out to town all before twenty past eight, all so Jools could have a hair cut.

This is a tale that has been repeated all over Britain: decades of poor planning by local councils, allowing large out of town retail areas have killed our town centres.

Dover isn't alone in this, and I can remember 15 years ago, having to be in town before nine to get a parking space. Biggin Street was full of shoppers, and market stalls selling fruit and veg.

But no more.

Maybe half a dozen cars in the car park, Biggin Street and the rest of the town centre like 28 Days Later, and only one other table in La Salle Verte taken when I went in for a brew and some shortbread.

Whitfield has Tesco, Lidl, B&Q, Home Bargains, Pets at Home, even its own KFC and Subway now. No need to go into town, so people don't.

I dropped Jools off in Ladywell, then drove round to the car wash place, but this was closed at half eight. So along to Stembrook, to park where we used to and have the car washed. There's not enough cars now for the business to work, just dozens of empty spaces.

I walked over Pencester Gardens to Penchester Road, where the post office used to be. Not any more, its a Poundland. But having had just the one stamp for the card, I put that in the pillar post box, and walked to Biggin Street, where a guy in a barbers was having breakfast, but had an empty chair.

Do I need to book? I ask. No. So, I sit and in 15 minutes I am shorn, not as carefully as usual, but it'll do through the warm phase, and do me until the end of the month, as we're going to be quite busy at weekends.

I walk to the car, drove to to the car wash place, which was no open, and they will do inside and out, in 40 minutes, so I leave the car and keys and walk along to St James Old Church.

St James (Old) Church is unusual, in that it survived longer than its replacement. And is only in its current ruinous state because of enemy action in the last war.

I went to take shots as it had been shrouded in scaffolding for about a year, but is now free of it, but there were a couple of tents inside, though apparently unoccupied.

The centre of Dover was once a place with a complex of ecclesiastical buildings. Most have now gone, with St Marys and St James left standing. The largest church, St Martin Le Grange, is long gone, buts its foundations can be seen from the library and visitor centre on market Square. As well as the churches, there was the Priory, the remains of which now make up the grounds and buildings of Dover College.

I take my shots and then wander through the new St James Development on the other side of the road, to the Market Square and up Biggin Street for a brew and a piece of shortbread, which about the size of a loaf of bread.

But tasty.

I collected the car, parked on Castle Street to see where Jools wanted picking up, when she appeared from a shop opposite.

The chances!

She climbed in and I drove us back home along the cliffs along Reach Road to St Maggies and home.

This is the last weekend before the football season starts, so for the last time we try to stay awake in the afternoon, have a coffee and some chocolate, before going to Jen's for supper of pizza and cards.

It is also Sylv's last weekend here, she goes home on the coach on Thursday, so its a bittersweet evening, made easier by two bottles of wine and lots of banter.

I think we all end about even, so Jools drive us home, back to the cats and a not so early night.

Friday 2nd August 2024

I am a son of Norfolk, and glory is being so. And so I know Norfolk is big, and is filled with sometimes empty spaces, sometimes vast apparently empty spaces that were never filled with anything.

and yet there are many places that time has forgotten, the same all over the country I guess, really. But North and east Norfolk coasts have been on the retreat for centuries, and in Norfolk and Suffolk, towns and villages have been lost to the hungry North Sea.

Landowners have moved villages on, so to graze sheep or to have a fine view from one of the dozens of bedrooms in their fancy new country houses.

Economics mean that it was no longer viable for a particular farming activity to continue, and those who worked the land drifted away or even the land was needed for war preparations.

This book, on the lost villages of Norfolk, has been researched and written by my friend, Cam Self, and illustrated with dozens of shots taken from the air by another friend, John Fielding, with an introduction by a third friend, John Vigar.

It is a fine book, with views that most of us will never see, and stories of villages that have come and gone, and even the land itself has forgotten and lost all trace. For others there are lumps and bumps in the turf, a partially ruined church, or a lone finger post, pointing the way to somewhere that is no longer there.

A Norfolk Brigadoon, perhaps.

A wonderful book, already I am armed with new information and a list of places to visit next time I am in the fair county.

Friday.

And hot.

Damn hot.

So, up at half five, have coffee and again, once Jools left for yoga, put out the bins, fill up the feeders and have a second coffee and be ready for work at seven.

As hard as it is to believe, summer holiday season is not yet ended, and in meetings, half those invited are still away. Whether this is a good or bad thing depends.

When I stop for breakfast, I go outside, and feeding is a Peacock, so I grab the camera. The butterfly was so focussed on breakfast, that it didn't notice me edge closer to get shots.

Three meetings either side of midday and I was done.

Literally.

I am worn out with it all. I log off, pack the laptop away, pour an ice cold tripel and sit outside in the sun, reading the book that got delivered today.

Perfect.

We're playing cards on Saturday, so we have a quiet afternoon, and for me the quiz followed by cooking chorizo hash and beer.

And that was the end of the day, and beginning of the weekend.

Brexit reality update

A month after the election, and there are signs of sensible policies from Labour on the EU.

There are talks and talks of a closer relationshipe especially in defence matters.

It is a start.

There is no chance of rejoining the SM or CU, which will upset many Remainers, but again the reality is, the EU wouldn't let us rejoin the EU or either the SM or CU. There would have to be a major shift across the main parties, so not to fact a 180 degree policy change come the next election.

Every bit of realism brings banner headlines from the Epress about Brexit being betrayed.

Brexit never was an event, it was always going to be, and so is, a process.

A process that will only end when the UK rejoins.

Each month the UK does nothing, EU regulations across a huge spectrum of subjects, goods and services change or udated, meaning divergance is happening any way, the question for the next five years is how to deal with that. As with each divergance, that could bring in new checks, compliance and paperwork.

Always with the paperwork.

Here is a tale about bottle tops.

Simple plastic bottle tops, and this will tell us about how divergance is an illusion, or an expensive folly.

As Chris Grey says in his current weekly blog:

"Even under the Tories, it was de facto accepted that the possibilities for regulatory divergence were very limited in a practical sense, which Is why they identified so few, and pursued even fewer. Moreover, as the recent example of ‘tethered plastic bottle caps’ has illustrated, to the bemusement of Brexiters like poor old Isabel Oakeshott (£), whatever the UK government may do, UK businesses will often decide to follow new EU regulations.

That’s for the fairly obvious reason that it is cheaper to produce to only one standard, especially if it is that of the larger market, but, in any case, to produce to the standard which is required by one market and is acceptable in the other market (i.e. in this case, tethered plastic bottle caps are now legally required for sale in the EU and acceptable, although not legally required, in Great Britain). Moreover, there is an additional incentive for UK manufacturers, specifically, to produce goods to a standard which will be acceptable in both Great Britain and Northern Ireland, where EU rules apply anyway (an early example being that of baby food manufacture)." https://chrisgreybrexitblog.blogspot.com/2024/08/proustian-moments-at-le-cafe-brexit.html

It is cheaper to follow EU regulations and apply them to goods for there and the UK than to have two separate lines.

This is for something simple like bottle tops, imagine something like electric cars.

Oh yes, electric cars.

There is a thing called rules of origin, and for completed goods to be be consdered made in Britain or made in UK, then a percentage, 55% for electric cars, need to be manufactired there. And rules of origin would have to be shown and how complied with at borders if companies are to continue to export to the EU.

The EU have all border infrastructure ready by the end of 2019, the UKs is still not ready as Johnson denied the requirements of the very deal he pushed for and was elected to implement. Labour will now have to decide whether to carry on kicking Brexit into the long grass or suck up the costs and consequences. All with the Brexit supporting press baying loudly.

There will be some movement closer, but not as much as Remainers hoped for, and more than Brexiteers wanted.

So it goes, round and round. Wash, rinse and repeat.

Thursday 1st August 2024

Another day, another day where forecasted thunderstorms don't reach us. Just about every city in France seems to have had at least one storm this week. We're just 23 miles away from the French coast, and we see nothing.

Only it was dark and gloomy at dawn. So dark lights had to be put on to be able to make coffee or see the keyboard.

Outside, steady rain fell, and low mist hung in the treetops the other side of The Dip, but no thunder. No lightning.

And only light winds to blow the clouds through, though by lunchtime the clouds thinned and the sun came out.

Temperatures and humidity soared, and so I opened the front door to let a breeze through and cracked on with work.

Reports to fine tune, meetings to arrange and host, and then the usual new flavour of chaos to get my head round.

I do go for a walk late in the afternoon. It was half one, and I needed my head clearing. But it was hot, humid and so after making it across the field, I turned back, and was a ball of sweat by the time I returned.

I saw a Comma, several Red Admirals and what looked like a Painted Lady, but flew off. Hedgerows are full of blooms, elderberries are already ripe, and soon blackberries and sloes will ripen too, if the farmer doesn't flay the hedges, which is what he's done the last two years.

Sigh.

I walk back home, pour a beer and sit with Scully on the patio as she snoozes and purrs, happy that she has company.

Dinner is easy: burgers in some offcuts of toasted focaccia with cheese and mushrooms, followed by the last two slices of the limoncello and grappa tart.

By half seven, we were full.

Enough with the doomscrolling, so I went and had a shower, read the season preview in WSC, and to bed.

Soon be the weekend.

Wednesday 31st July 2024

And so the weather changes.

Again.

Gone is the sunshine and cloudless skies, instead a morning so dark and gloomy it needed the table light on in the living room.

There isn't much on for me during the day, other than the fact I finished the final audit report and then remembered I needed to arrange a meeting to present it.

Sigh.

Its taken so long thus far because of the summer vacations, and even then half those who were present will still be away on Friday.

And through the day I nipped and folded a fresh batch of focaccia for dinner to go with Caprese.

I have learned the longer you give the folds to settle and fill with bubbles from the yeast, the better. And so every hour or so I oil my hands, nip and fold. Nip and fold.

The final stretch it to place in a baking tray, allow to rise again for an hour and a half, then put in to bake at five so to be ready for when Jools comes home.

I slice the tomatoes and cheese, drizzle with balsamic and olive oil, harvest yet more basil, get the baked bread out, slice and serve.

Delicious.

Ans o filling there was no room for the last two slices of tart. But there's always tomorrow.

There was the threat of thunder that never quite reached here, but during Wednesday night, there were flashes over the French coast and the distant rumble of thunder.

Maybe it'll get closer tomorrow.

The other obsession

So, it's the time of year when my mind goes to Heritage Weekend/Ride and Stride, and churches I would like to visit or revisit.

I got the list of churches up, and JOols asks, what day is it this year, remember we're going to Tuscany.

And sure enough, the main day is when we should be driving from the South of France into Italy to our apartment. So, for the first time in about 15 years, no riding or striding for me, and that means we will also be away for the second weekend of Heritage Weekend(s).

I will survive.

But here we are something like 15 years into the project, yes, 21st July 2009 is when we visited Postling for the first time. And in that time we have visited about 400 churches, in must be something like 800 visits, maybe more with the closed ones too. And here in east Kent, just really Broadstairs, Margate and Sandgate to do, then there are some urban churches in Canterbury, Medway Towns and Maidstone and Tonbridge, then west Kent.

I have done a few west Kent churches this year, calling in on seven on my way back from the Isle of Wight, but having watched a vdeo on the best Kent towns, I see Edenbridge is somewhere we need to go, as is Chiddingstone and Lamberhurst. And that's off the top of my head.

This year we have visited: Minnis Bay, Westerham, Brasted, Sundridge, Ide Hill, Otford, Kemsing Offham, Shipbourne, Plaxtol and Dode, so not a bad return for a year whch activities have been curtailed by various health problems.

Gives me something to do in the autumn and winter, I guess.

In other words, I am not going to be so driven to do something each weekend, or that is the plan. I think a trip to west Kent for some of the above churches in the next couple of months, when the weather is good, but other than that, chill out some. COming with the end of the Orchid Project, and the under thirteen months until retirement, I might be looking for some new obsession to fill my time.

But we shall see.