Friday 15th March 2024

Seventy five days into the year, and a Friday too.

The days are getting longer and warmer, although the threat of frost and even snow is not over yet.

Jools had the day off, but much planned, so up at six so she could go to yoga, and I put the bins out.

The rain had begun before dawn and carried on until lunchtime before easing, the the clouds cleared.

This was a Friday full of meetings, including a two hour department meeting where, again, we were told how great things are

Each morning, or when the rain stops, I go out to check the garden for new plants and flowers, so it was on when of these checks I finally noticed the grape hyacinths growing out of the lawnmeadow.

We were going to the cinema to dee Dune 2: this time its sandier. But, with the redundancies at Jools's work, there was a goodbye party for those who are leaving, so she drove to Hythe to say her goodbyes.

Its never easy.

By the time she returned, I had finished work and the kettle was boiling again. Its a 6th sense I tell you.

Not much else to tell, just the afternoon waiting for when the music quiz started. I didn't do well this week, as the works of Steve Millar are mostly unknown to me.

But by then it was the weekend, and time to relax even more.

Election extinction

After Johnson won the last election in 2019, I wrote at how odd it was he fought so hard to keep it when partygate happened, despite he having no clear skillset that made him suitable to be Prime Minister, not inclined to learning those skills, or dedicating the time and attention needed to be an effective PM.

He was follower by Liz Truss, who did something remarkable, in that she was a worse PM than Johnson was. She did only last, what, 37 days as PM, and fourteen of those the country closed down due to the death of the Queen. Truss did not have the ability to communicate, have the skills to be PM, be convinced she needed the skills and unid the checks and balances of State that enabled her and her Chancelor to push through their mini budget, with unfunded tax cuts that so spooked the markets.

She was in turn replaced by Sunak.Another politician promoted beyond his abilities, not having the skills or life experiences to be able to understand what life is like for the poor. Let us not forget his did not know how to pay for fuel in garage, had to be shown hw his swipe card works, and whose wife's family still trades in Russia and will be expempt tax even though the great unwashed are not.

All three lead a party that now cannot be lead, spit into factions, each has learned that with 30 MOs voting with the opposition, any meaningful bill or policy can be voted down, or threatened with being voted down. Thus winning concessions, and yet still wanting more and more, and still complain about it.

I also wrote if we would in the not too distant future mourn the stable days of May's time as PM, spread over the hung Parliament wracked with meaningless meaningful votes on Brexit. May had her faults, but she was a titan compared to those who followed.

And when the time comes, either next week, next month or next year to replace Sunak, what dregs will they appoint to lead the party. How hard will they have to scrape the bottom of the barrel of talent that is the modern Cnonservative Party.

It is now spooked by the bastard offspring of UKIP, The Reform Party, so lurching to the right to avoid defeat by UKIP now leaves them considering a further luch to negate the apparent threat by 30p and Reform. Its all pointless, as they will always want more, and what they do get is never enough, nor extreme enough to have been the "true" Brexit or immigration control.

Previous Conservative PMs were David Cameron, whose failure to confont the headbangers lead to him promising the referendum, then walking out when he lost. And before that it was John Major, who oversaw the largest landslide Labour victory in 1997. Before him was Thatcher, who despite her legion faults, had the clarity of vision to deliver her policies to lay waste to the UK's nationalised heavy industries, and convert the UK economy to Service.

Which Brexit then undermind.

So, what does the modern Conservative Party stand for, other than trying to out-racist Reform? Who under the age of 60 will vote for them, thanks to the loss of freedom of movement and the demonisation of what they call "woke". The country is swimming in sewage, the NHS, railways, Justice systemand much more is on its knees after a decade of austerity, and HUnt's recipe for the Nation is more austerity, cuts tot he NHS and Justice.

And cuts to the Armed Forces, just as Trump threatens to end support for Ukraine if he winds the US election, then there will bo nothing to stop Russia from threatening more of Nato, what a time to cut even more defence spending. For tax cuts for the already rich.

And yet the Conservatives want to win the election, despite all of the failures overseen in the last 14 years. Maybe there is still some family silver they have yet to pawn off to their mates.

Thursday 14th March 2024

Thursday: and Jools was back to work, though we did sleep through the alarm until twenty past six, then there was the rush to get ready after having the first coffee of the day.

And to work, with three hours of meetings from eight, while outside the sun rose at six way to the south-east, so far now that its rays now light up the side bedroom when it rises. And it seems only a couple of weeks ago the sun was rising at eight and opposite the back of the house.

I still am cautious about going out for a walk, my knee is some days better than others, but I don't want to tear the cartilage again. But one day I will have really get walking again.

One day.

Lunch was lemon pasta again. Jools isn't keen. I like the tartness of it to be honest, doubly so when mixed with sliced chillies.

The afternoon grew old, and turned to dinnertime. I made a simple lamb tagine, leaving the meat out, though coated with spices to be fried just before the fruit and vegetables, laced with honey and spices would be ready.

Just as I was about to cook the lamb, I get a phone call from Jools: she had been locked in the factory with the finance director, as the site manager failed to check in the offices upstairs. They had to wait half an hour to be let out, then she had to walk to the car and drive home.

So, the tagine stewed some more and got more flavour, once she got home, I fried the lamb and dished up.

It was splendid, also with some of the focaccia from the evening before.

Wednesday 13th March 2024

Four years ago, the world changed.

Football got cancelled, as did most sport, as did entertainment, though pub, bars and restaurants were allowed to remain open for another 10 days thanks to Johnson's dithering.

Those were some dark days, made worse for me as I re-read those posts seeing how well I forecast things would be, and turned out.

That Friday afternoon, after my journey down from North Wales, along almost deserted motorways back to Kent, was how to fill the voids in afternoons and evenings left by having no football.

Even worse wehn radio too began to be affected, and recorded shows became the norm.

If we knew what was coming, would that weekend have been harder to bear?

Like most things in life, we coped.

The nation coped.

Despite of the actions of Johnson and his Government.

News on the COVID enquiry has gone quiet, but we have learned that the Government did not follow all the science, just the science that suited them. Then griftd billions in "VIP Lane" PPE contracts. Estimates vary on how much money was wasted, there are no official figures as that would have to come from the gifters. But tens of billions of pounds, just vanished. Thirty seven billion on Dido Harding's Test and Trace system which never worked. And she has not been seen for months. And her husband, the old ant-corruption tsar.

The anniversay went pretty much unremarked on the things I listen to or watch, but my blogs record the chaos and madness of the pandemic.

Meanwhile.

Spring, if not here already is pretty close.

In two weeks daylight will equal darkness, and with each day, more flowers either bloom or sprout afresh from the soil.

Being Wednesday, Jools was back home, though had chores to run, as the tip runs come more frequent as old and tired furniture is sent to the MFI in sky, and we scour Ikea for new stuff.

The back office is now bare, walls mostly painted, but needs new carpet and then shelving and a chair to make Jools feels at home when I listen to the football downstairs.

So, she is gone at eight, and after tip onto the Romney Marsh to drop off her working desk for stripping and recoating.

Meaning I was home all day.

There is work, and outside the rain had failed to come at least for one day.

I have been checking the pond pretty much every day since the beginning of February for spawn, with no luck.

I saw frogs, a couple of weeks back three engaged in apparent mating, then on Tuesday I saw what I assumed to be a pregnant female just below the surface.

Wednesday morning, just after sunrise, I checked and she was engaged in laying eggs.

So, Spring is here. Soon the air will be filled with the sound of dozens of froglets.

Reddit.

She came home for lunch, we ate together, then she did more stuff while I applied the finishing touches to my audit report and its presentation at the end of the day.

As a treat, a railtour was due to come through east Kent, though due to reasons, the Royal Scot was not coming, and the Class 40 wasn't either.

So, an hour late, I went down to Martin Mill, climbed down the underpass and onto the down platform, so when the tour came the other way I could get shots, and more as it powered up Guston Bank.

It hoved into view soundlessly, but its headlights shining bright, I rattled off shots as she entered the station and carried on towards Dover.

88 shots in a few seconds, and for once I had the camera on the right settings.

Back home quickly so Jools could go and try a new "bounce" class, while I would stay home and entertain the cats, and have focaccia toasted, then dipped into olive oil.

Yummy.

And wine, of course.

There was football in the evening, though we went to bed at nine. Tired, and not just because I had finished the bottle of Vin Santos.

Ahem.

Tuesday 12th March 2024

So, this is where I am now.

Having moved on from standard dried pasta to ones that are shaped by a copper mould. To pasta from the refrigerated section to this: making my own.

I was expecting something smaller and lighter.

What came was a very heavy, quite large box. The weight coming from three different attachments as well as the machine itself.

And so where to store it when not in use, Precious? That is yet to be decided.

So, an afternoon spent watching YouTube videos on pasta dough making and then use of the machine.

So, next step would be to make the focaccia and then roll the dough and make spaghetti.

I hoped.

In fact the focaccia had been on the make since breakfast. I follow a "no knead" recipe, so once initially mixed, I "tucked and folded" every 30 minutes or so until two or so, then oiled it some more, turned out into a tin, let rise one more time, ass sun dried tomatoes and rosemary, then cook.

I took the dough out of the fridge, kneaded it a little to get it soft, ran a small amount through the machine to clean it.

Cutting the dough into four, I roll each quarter until each sheet was see-through, then put on what I thought was the spaghetti attachment, but as it turned out, did not cut all the way through and the thin strips needed pulling apart.

Jools and I did our best to pull them apart, but really only half was done, some were much wider than others.

I boil a pan of water, cut the guanciale, mix the egg and cheese. And bring it all together.

Not pretty, but the pasta was tasty and I think the sauce needed a little more thickening, but it'll do, and could be mopped up by the plentiful bread.

Carbtastic.

Other than that, not much to report of the day: work and more report writing, nothing but rain outside.

Football in the evening, on the wireless, but with Arsenal going to extra time then penalties before beating Porto, it was nearly 11 when I went to bed.

Monday 11th March 2024

Back in 2016 we visited Japan and after staying in a traditional ryokan (hotel), with rice paper walls and little or no decoration or objects, upon returning we began to de-clutter.

But despite getting rid of magazines, DVDs and many, many books, in the meantime we have bought more, so as Jools decorates the back room, its our chance to thin more stuff out.

Books bought with the best of intentions, especially during COVID, or with the thought that we would read more when we were retired.

I don't think I shall read more. So, books we have read, some we have not are being stacked up ready for the trip to Deal Oxfam shop on Wednesday, and the painting goes on.

And this was the first day of our house share during the day. Me working, and Jools not working.

It is now beginning to get light at half five in the morning, and sunrise before half six, so at the end of the month days will again be longer than nights, and the clocks will spring forward.

It seems last time I looked sunrise was well after seven, but now that's nearly an hour earlier, and sunset an hour later.

For work I have a monster audit report to write. The first part trying to decipher my notes into something all, including me, can understand.

Its all good apart from random words which must have meant something last week, but is no lost in the canyons of my mind.

Jools goes swimming, to the tip and to Tesco to get something for lunch, while I plough on with work.

Jools cooks lunch, which is the main meal of the day: fishcakes with bean salad and bulgur wheat.

Which gives me energy to power through the afternoon until four.

Jools comes down from painting to find the computer put away, so we have coffee and supper of buttermilk chicken in a roll, leftovers from the weekend, before she went to aquafit and I clear up, write some, and then sit down to watch the evening football: Chelsea v Newcastle.

Sadly both teams could not lose, but Newcastle did. By which time Jools was back home and gone to bed, so at quarter past ten, I join her.

Sunday 10th March 2024

Sunday.

And the good news is that with drugs, massage and taking things easy, my knee was pretty much pain free.

So we could go out for a walk and take snaps?

Yes, but the weather was to be dreadful and only likely to get worse.

Jools went swimming first thing, and so I had a shower and made breakfast, all ready for when she came home.

Not even the radio to listen to as there's a festival on 6 Music and the usual programming was suspended.

So, it was all a wait until the football started at one, with Spurs away at Villa, which ended 0-4, before the big game of the day: Liverpool v Citeh, which was a great game, every bit as anticipated.

It ended 1-1, which was about right.

We then sat down to watch Dune: Part 1.

I have not read the books, but remember David Lynch's version from over 40 years ago, and Sting in his metal alien underpants.

There is a lot of backstory and exposition to Dune, so the first half was a mess, but once they get down to the sand and spice, the film makes more sense and was enjoyable enough.

I do think the book is unfilmable due to the back story and politics, and would be better as a TV series, and whether I go to the cinema on Friday to see Part 2 is another matter.