On good faith

Negotiations are conducted in good faith, in that one side trusts the other will honour what the other says it will do. A gentleman's word is his bond, and all that, so the EU would have thought that negotiating with the UK should have meant that once agreement was reached, then that was that, both side move on to the next stage.

Only, in Brexit, this hasn't happened. UK negotiators, in particular the Ministers responsible for Brexit, and I'm talking about you here, DD< said one thing to the EU in meetings, and then something completely different to the press back home. The EU called DD out on his claims what the WA would have meant to the NO border, and he had to make a public statement saying that the EU was correct, and in normal times then resign.

But these are not normal times.

And now the UK and EU have agreed and ratified the WA and entered into the transition, this has deep implications for NI, in particular Johnson's capitulation, painted as a Churchillian triumph in the press meant destroying the UK single market, creating a trade and regulatory border in the Irish Sea, which is why I now use the terms UK and Britain now, because at the end of the year there will be a UK in political terms only, in trade it will not be fully part of the UK or the EU.

This is the front stop, and is going to be a huge issue come January next year, especially as trade officials are not sure how it is going to work, but in stating there will be tariffs and checks on goods from the EU entering Britain, it means there will be checks on goods arriving from NI too.

Only there has been a reshuffle of Johnson's cabinet. Not really, a shuffle. But, the old NI secretary who secured a return to devolved government for NI was sacked for not being a true believer and challenging some Brexit policies. He has been replaced by Brandon Lewis.

And it was Lewis, who this week, stated there would be no border between Britain and NI. But that is what Johnson's WA states WILL happen.

If the UK wants, it could not enforce the WA, but that will have severe consequences. All other agreements would end at a stroke, shutters would come down to exports to the UK, along with all other agreements. Meaning any trade that survived the WA would be subject to further restrictions, restrictions on travel and so on and on.

And this would reduce the UK/Britain's word to nothing, any trade deal, or any other agreement would be subject to legal enforcement. Who would do a trade deal with us in the knowledge we might renege on it? Further trashing our country's reputation.

But Brexit means Brexit.

Friday 14th February 2020

St Valentine's Day.

Being a Friday, Jools is not at work, but had a day of stuff planned, meaning apart from being up half an hour earlier, so she could make the early yoga class, it was as usual for me.

Jools had made a coffee, and then she got ready, leaving the house at quarter past six, and I went up the stairs to do a session on the cross trainer before I could change my mind. And very good the session was too.

Before I went up, there was a red glow on the horizon showing where the sun was just out of sight. By the time I had finished, the sun was closer to rising, and had moved further south, but even still, when it did rise it is now a good 30 degrees further east than it was back at Christmas, sowing that spring is very near now.

I had a shower, then filled the bird feeders and make breakfast, meaning I was all ready to start work dead on eight.

And as a reward, I had two hours of meetings. Should have been half an hour, but once we quality professionals get started talking, there's no stopping us!

So, the morning passes. At midday Jools comes back home, car laden with shopping. Once that was put away, I make fresh rolls for lunch, and a fresh brew.

Cooking on gas now.

But come two it was time to pack up, as I had an appointment at the opticians, as it has been a few years.

But, and this is where I have to be honest, for the last few weeks, I have seen flashing lights in my left eye when I blinked when it was dark. The shapes are rather like that of a Winter Heliotrope, just a flash and then went.

I said nothing to anyone.

But in the passing of time, the flashes didn't go away, so, I booked an appointment. On Thursday they rang up to see if there were any issues, and I said about the flashing lights. THey were concerned, but said to come in as normal.

So I did. When I described the lights and conditions to the optician, it was decided to skip the eye test and do a medical check on my eyes. So, I had the puff of air in each eye, then a 3D photo taken of each.

Drops were applied to dilate my pupils, and the tests repeated.

Good news is that nothing was found, but, the symptoms are for a detached retina, and if the flashed got worse and were continued to be ignored, I could have gone blind.

Eeek. No need to say how bad that would be for me as a photographer.

I now know what to look for and actions to be taken if they do, and the consequences if I don't.

Phew.

With the drops making lights so bright, Jools had to drive us home, then once home I lay in the darkened living room until the drops wore off.

I was then able to make nachos for dinner, and drink well from a litre bottle of Danish beer.

It had been a long and stressful day, so we relax by watching more of Good Omens before going to bed nine.

Getting some in: part 10

Dateline: 13th February 1991, AWM 218, RAF Cosford.

Dear Mum and Dad,

Thank you for the food parcel that arrived, what a surprise. All my favourites. The flavoured chocolate went straight away. And suddenly I became very popular! Have you opened the cake yet? is the most common question.

We played football down the gym last night for two hours, and I pulled a muscle. Woke up this morning and ached all over. We did this to avoid going down the NAAFI to drink. I even bought a bottle of Ribena to drink.

Here are a few words from Mark:

Hello, how are you? Things are going quite well here, course is quite good now. We have just done release equipment, lots of laughs(!) Ian is right, he hasn't had a drink since Saturday, but I think that prohibition will end tonight! See you soon,

Mark.

Well, there you are, a man of few words. Well he is from Swindon. No, he's a good bloke. I have to say that as he's sitting next to me

Sorry I haven't phoned or written, but I have been busy and short of cash.

I got 73% in the latest exam.

My own room is lovely, I watched Aliens last night. In bed. Luxury.

There's a video shop at the local garage, so I'll go and hire a load out if I can.

Hope you've been able to get the car moved, I have cancelled the insurance.

We are all now off to play football again, must be a glutton for punishment. I'm much happier after the weekend at home, really did me good.

Hope everyone is OK: Iris, Henry, Speedy, etc. Send everyone my regards. Its a lovely day here, blue skies and even quite warm. Well, compared to recently. I think you had the worse weather.

Mark keeps stealing this letter to see what I've written; what an untrusting person he is.

There;s a new series of Red Dwarf starting tomorrow, so something to look forward to. Don't suppose I'll get any Valentine's cards tomorrow.

That's it, see you soon,

Ian

Thursday 13th February 2020

And back home.

We woke to hear wind and rain battering the back of the house, this has been normal for this winter, and over the weekend a double low pressure system is due to sweep through; one Friday night into Saturday and then Storm Dennis on Saturday night into Tuesday. Yes, Tuesday. No worries about a dry winter this year, and a winter that has brought almost no frost, no snow at all. That could change, but the spring bulbs are showing well and our daffodils are in flower now.

But as Prince sung, Sometimes it Snows in April......

Once Jools had left for work I gird my loins and head up to the spare room for more cross trainer action, and 35 minutes this time. So, while I pumped lard, the rain stopped, clouds thinned and the wind died.

I finish up and just in time to make breakfast before getting the home office up, log in and check mails and the such. The eat and drink.

And the day soon settles down to its usual format, almost like I was never away. The cats like me being home, and ask at regular intervals if it was dinnertime yet.

In the afternoon the sun comes out and so I go to the bathroom to take shots out of the window, with the backdrop of the dip and village.

I wish I could say something exciting had happened, but no, jsut a new bottle of aftershave delivered, as my current one had been going ten years. Does that count as exciting?

Or how about the 5 minutes I spent popping the bubblewrap the aftershave was packed in? I was relaxed when the last bubble popped.

I make a bowl of salsa, then season the chicken for fajitas, all ready for cooking when Jools came home. Being her last day of the week, she has to make sure she is all up to date with work before leaving, so calls at half five to let me know she was then coming home.

Once she is home, I cook the chich and peppers, warm the tortillas and pour the wine.

I'm ready.

And in ten minutes we demolish all eight of them, clear the plates of chicken and veggies.

Yum.

And that lead to an evening of radio listening, which is usual for a Thursday, and then to bed at nine to read the latest edition of WSC, and then to sleep.....

Getting some in: part 9

Dateline: 5th February 1991, AWM 218, RAF Cosford.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I hope you are both well. I enclose my car key and relevant documents.

Believe it or not, I was really miserable on the journey back, I really did not want to leave.

I move into my single room tomorrow night, and then we go straight onto gate guard.

We just completed our latest end of phase exam, and I got 82%, which isn't too bad at all.

I had a few drinks with Mark last night, its just something that we both needed.

Thanks very much for the lovely weekend, only downside is that its not long enough back home.

It loos like I will be going to Swindon again this weekend, but Mark wants to go to Gloucester Saturday evening, not surprisingly, I'm not keen. BUt he'll probably bend my arm and I'll go.

Thell Granddad that I am sorry I dd not get round to seeing him over the weekend, just not enough time.

My new room will be great, lots of shelves and power sockets and even an armchair: a real home from home. At least I won't have to put up with the smokers any more.

That's all for now, Love, Ian

Wednesday 12th February 2020

Dateline: Holywell, Flintishire, Wales. I woke at half five having had the best part of nine hours sleep, I guessed. I felt rested, I had done the audit, and all that lay ahead was some admin then the small matter of the six hour drive back south. There are worse ways to spend working I thought. And was right. So, at seven I got up, had a shower then packed and dressed. Downstairs I had breakfast then checked out. Although I don't have bacon and sausages every morning when I'm home, but here, it was something I had been looking forward to since waking up. Freshly cooked sausage and bacon, split and put in buttered fresh bread and with a huge cup of fresh coffee.

Wonderful.

I pay the bill, and am wished on my travels, as I walk out of the hotel away to my right the angry red sun rises, lighting up this fine Welsh morning, though the sun rose above England, but hey.

I drove to the harbour at Mostyn, trying to keep to the speed limit this time as I made my way past the empty yards of what was once a busy port. Maybe the speed cameras are old and not working.

He hoped.

In the office, I was asked if I wanted a brew by the service manager, but I'm good. Not so good was the endless problems I had with our IT systems; some kind of rogue script running in the background making everything act so slow it was like being back on dial up.

I do what I set otut to do in a couple of hours, so I decide to make a start for home. I bid them all goodbye, though I'll be back in May.

Maybe.

The sat nav took me along the coast road, along to Flint, past a small liner I should have stopped to take shots off, but didn't. I wanted to put as many miles behind me as quickly as possible as the weather could do anything. Just before reaching the motorway, traffic was brought to a halt by the police, making us wait quarter of an hour for some issue to be sorted and cleared away.

Then we were on our way again. Onto the motorway before turning south.

The roads were not that bad, not too busy, even through the twenty miles of roadworks before passing Stafford. I press on, and even the weather was nice. Maybe even too sunny?

Just nit-picking really.

I stop on the toll road at the services, fill up the car and let the company buy me a hot pastie, a bottle of pop and a double Wispa to eat as I drive south.

As usual, the sat nav and I had a difference of opinion on the way to take. I took the car down the A14 to Cambridge and then down the M11, thus cutting out a large chunk of the M25. After half an hour the magic box got it.

The weather was still wonderful, as I pressed on towards Cambridge, joining the new byspass from the A1, all new road until it rejoined the old alignment near to the city, and roadworks there are nearly done, and soon will be smooth again. I have been travelling this road since it changed from the A45 and widened and now widened again.

Down south now, towards London, back on familiar roads, now less than two hours from home. So close I could almost taste the first cuppa.

The car, a sporty Leon, was a pleasure to dive, not sure about the build quality, but enjoyable enough. And it had DAB too.

And into Kent and down the M20 and past the old Operation Brock area, all now gone, so no need to slow down now.

I arrive home after having driven 340 miles that day, 720 in total. Phew.

I get inside the house and the cats look and go, "meow?". So I give them some kibbles. They seem happy with that.

It was just after four, too late to do work, and anyway I was pooped. So I make a huge brew and watch the highlights, as much they were, from the weekend's games.

After feeding the cats, I prepare dinner, breaded chicken and curried rice, which was rather good. But before eating, we drop the hire car off, Jools picks me up, and we are home.

Now, that called for a wine. Or two.

And that was that. Half seven by the time we had cleared up, made a coffee and chatted about things. Enough time left to listen to some music, before going to bed at nine to read.

Good night. And good luck.

Tuesday 11th February 2020

Dateline: Holywell, Flintshire, Wales.



The hotel is fine. Just not spectacular.

There are no views over the Savannah, and herds of elephants and wilderbeast. There are views of the main road, the North Wales "expressway" and over the water to The Wirral.

But not from my room. There is just views of a flat roof and an old stone barn.

I turn on the radio and laze in bed as I don't have to be in the office until nine. So, this is the life.

At half seven, I get up and am dressed and ready for the day at eight I stop for breakfast; all bran, yoghurt and a bacon and sausage butty. And lots of coffee.

But I am all set for a hard day at the audit face.

I audit, therefore I'm an auditor.

I program the post code of the office in. The sat nav says no.

So I program in the town of Mostyn, and the sat nav tells me that will be 15 minutes.

I drive along the dual carriageway, then turn off, following narrower and narrower lanes up and over the line of hills between the road and the coast. Then down steep twisty lanes towards the coast.

I turn a corner and find a tunnel in the way. Not in the way, but the tunnel is under a house. A gate house. I recognise it from the GWUK group from years back. Before I can think I am through the tunnel the other side, but I can get back to the hotel this was, I thought.

Down through the village, bult on the side of the steep hill, past rugged looking houses and a church. A chapel, really, and down to the coast road which runs between the foot of the hill and the water separating this part of wales with The Wirral.

I have a 50:50 guess to which was to turn to the port road, and I guess right, up a hill to turn over a bridge leaping over the railway, then down into the port, once a bustling place, now just seems to exist to service the windfarms offshore.

Which is why I'm here.

I take the main road almost to the end, and there is our offices and a large parking area.

Right, let's get to work!

I go into the office and sign in. I have time to prepare my questions and leads. The auditees assemble, and we get going.

The day passes, very well in fact, I am a kind inquisitor, I prepare them for the big ordit that is to come.

The morning passes.

We break for lunch.

We audit through the afternoon, and finish with smiles and handshakes.

My job is done, just need to coordinate all the follow ups now.

I know they have work to catch up on, so I leave them to it and drove back to the hotel, back through Mostyn so I could snap the house on the tunnel.

Back to the hotel, parking up just as the sun set and the wind turned an extra ten degrees colder.

Brrrr.

Back to my room, put the radio on and relax, until half five when my stomach tells me it really would like feeding.

Now.

So, I go down to the bar, look at the menu and the only thing, other than burger again, that grabs is is ribeye. So I have that, rare with a portion of onion rings whilst I read an article on the Black Crowes reunion, and ponder whether I might have tickets for the tour. Or not.

We shall see.

Back in the room, I hear the wind whilstle through the ill-fitting windows. It sounds like winter.

And feels like it.

I call home, and get the news, and then lay on and then in the bed, listening to the radio. At nine I put on the football, but soon fall asleep for over two hours, waking up with a review of the day's news.

I go to clean my teeth and climb back into bed.