“It feels like almost every week there is an issue with sleaze and scandal where Rishi Sunak is either implicated himself or too weak to get to grips with it (Wendy Chamberlain)
Haiga – Enigma
In the wettest March for 40 years, French Storm Mathis brought yellow rain and 70 mph winds to southern England. It was revealed water companies discharged sewage into rivers an average 825 times a day during 2022. The Environment Agency put the 19% drop from 2021 down to droughts. Yorkshire Water claimed to have a £180m plan but customers would need to contribute. Government threatened to impose unlimited fines. Labour lambasted underwhelming targets and penalties to cut sewage and storm overflow discharge way in the distant future.
‘Sorry’ for polluting rivers and seas, Water UK pledged £10bn to mend sewers and build tanks by 2030, but admitted bills would rise. Government urged them to put customers before profit – that was good coming from them! Warned not to swim in dirty water, demonstrators lined the Scarborough shoreline. Yorkshire Water boss Nicola Shaw promised to fix the problem within 2 years. Comics Lee Mack, Pail Whitehouse and Steve Coogan protested against United Utilities spewing filth into Lake Windermere.
Noa, a French storm but not official in the UK, resulted in downpours, wind and massive waves in Cornwall 12th April. A Fin whale washed up on Bridlington beach and died. The Hartlepool fishing industry at grave risk due to all the dead crustaceans, government still denied it had anything to do with dredging. Charities stepped in to provide support.
Westminster as dirty as our waterways, tory MP Scott Benton was entrapped by a lobbying video and suspended. Daniel Greenberg launched investigations into Benton for use of work e-mail and 2 fellow MPs – Henry Smith who used tax-payer funded stationery and The Cock who tried to influence enforcement of parliamentary standards. Matt was ‘shocked and surprised’ – we weren’t! The Commissioner then looked into Rishi Rich for not declaring an interest in Koru Kids in which his wife had shares and stood to benefit from the expansion of free childcare. They were belatedly added to a new ministerial interests list. Thangam Debonnaire reckoned he’d hoped the furore would blow over rather than coming clean.
Adam Tolley KC, investigating bullying allegations against Rabid Raab since November, handed a detailed report to Rishi. Complainants in limbo, a livid Dave Penman of FDA railed at a farce and liberal chief whip Wendy Chamberlain at a weak PM. The next morning, Rishi accepted Raab’s resignation ‘with regret’, confirming his spinelessness. Alex Chalk became Justice sec and Oliver Dowdy deputy PM. In a BBC interview, Raab hit out at the injustice of ‘passive aggressive activist’ civil servants ganging up on ministers they didn’t like. He wouldn’t stand at the next election.
Adam Heppinstall KC (were all KC’s called Adam?) reported that BBC chair Richard Sharp breached the government’s code of conduct over the Boris loan guarantee scandal. Saying it was a distraction, Sharp resigned. Gary Lineker tweeted government shouldn’t make the appointment, now or ever. Lucy Powell said the affair did ‘untold damage to the BBC’ and its independence was ‘seriously undermined’ by tory ‘sleaze and cronyism’. Quite – if he’d had any integrity, he’d have gone when the story broke.
In Scotland, Sturgeon’s house was searched and her husband Peter Murrell arrested then released pending further investigation into SNP finances. A similar fate befell the treasurer and a luxury campervan was seized from outside Murrell’s elderly mum’s house.
Mid-May, United Utilities discharged sewage at Fleetwood contaminating the entire Fylde Coast. Towns across Kent and Sussex without a supply, schools had to close. South East Water issued a hosepipe ban, not because of drought but because they couldn’t keep up with early summer demand, which sounded ludicrous when thunderstorms flooded Rotherham and Sheffield.
Coffee-Cup told Laura K. she was ‘fed up’ with water companies and promised new Ofwat measures would lower share dividends. It emerged Swellen was caught speeding when serving as attorney general and asked civil servants if she could sit a speed awareness course privately. On becoming home sec, she opted for points. Coffee-Cup claimed to know nothing. As too did Rishi at G7. Irritated by questions, he snapped: ‘aren’t you going to ask about the summit?’ A possible breach of the ministerial code, Swellen batted away calls to go, said she regretted speeding but did nothing untoward, and prated about focusing on the job. Rishi informed MPs he was looking into it which meant having a chat with Swellen and Laurie Magnus rather than a proper inquiry.
June officially the hottest on record by 0.9 degrees, scientists expected such temperatures every other year and farmers grew med veg. The recommended 6-month waiting period at an end, Sue Gray got the all-clear to become labour chief of staff. She was later alleged to have broken the civil service code for not disclosing contact. Denying any dirty dealings, labour whinged of a politically motivated ‘Mickey Mouse’ probe by the cabinet office.
Thames Water CE Sarah Bentley returning her bonus over sewage spills didn’t appease so she’d resigned. Struggling to find investors, ministers stood by to take over in a ‘worst case scenario’. 30 years of paying shareholders while bleeding us dry then expecting government to sort it out, Ed Millipede raged at the scandal. Early July, they were fined £3m for polluting the River Thames near Gatwick with raw sewage in 2017, killing thousands of fish. Not mentioning leakage of 602.2m litres a day, River Action’s James Wallace warned Londoners of ‘imminent’ rationing as chalk streams dried up. Interim boss Cathryn Ross complained government’s ‘Plan For Water’ didn’t go far enough and suggested changes to how we thought about water and not taking it for granted, because London was no rainier than Jerusalem – eh? Heatwaves across The Med, a British tourist died of heatstroke queueing at Rome’s colosseum. Another washout weekend in the UK, Surfers Against Sewage advised all Cornish beaches were contaminated. Sewage ‘perfectly legally’ discharged at Filey, Whitby and Scarborough, signs informed of poor water quality on the latter’s South Beach. RNLI stopped putting red flags up, confusing councillors.
A Yorkshire Water ad telling us how to save water beggared belief. Unbelievably patronising given their record on waste, it contained stock footage of a Ukrainian left-hand drive car, a Russian bar and Herefordshire hills. Mocked as ‘more Malvern than Malton’, it was pulled. July estimated to be the hottest month for 1,200 years worldwide, US scientists warned of ‘global boiling’. But Yorkshire experienced the second wettest on record. Not expected to change until mid- August, it felt pleasant enough outside – for October! I reckoned we’d had 5 dry days all month, although unseasonal conditions led to dramatic cloudscapes (see my haiga ‘Enigma’i). When Phil returned from work soaked to the skin, he exclaimed: “Look at me!” “Yes, and you said there’s nowt in the St. Swithin’s adage!”
Approving a coal mine ‘nonsense’, Climate Change Committee Chair Selwyn Gummer thought it a shame the UK no longer led on the issue. The High Court stymied 5 councils’ bid to stop Sadiq extending ULEZ to outer London boroughs. Appealing to motoring gammons, Rishi announced a review of low traffic neighbourhoods even though they were in the remit of local authorities. Backbenchers wanted a delay to the ban on petrol and diesel vehicles but The Glove-Puppet insisted the 2030 date was immoveable. Continuing to renege on promises and drive a ‘wrecking ball’ through climate commitments, Rishi announced 100 new North Sea oil and gas licenses plus carbon capture (to include The Humber), much to Thangam’s ‘disappointment’. Saying use of UK energy sources rather than shipping it halfway round the world was important, Rishi seemed oblivious that most untapped reserves consisted of oil destined for foreign markets.
A standards committee inquiry into ‘inappropriate behaviour’ meant The Pincher faced an 8 week suspension and recall petition possibly leading to yet another by-election. Parliament really was a dirty rotten cesspit!
“(Terrible events in The Channel are) another reminder that debates about asylum seekers are not about statistics, but precious human lives” (Justin Welby)
Winter of Strife
Haiga – Advent
1st December, I dreamt of an idyllic summer walk which turned weird when a museum building with a vaulted wooden portico bizarrely appeared atop remote hills. Stretching to take a photo, Phil fell and lay injured on the ground. Trying to shake the image, I heard Phil going out for an early shift and dozed off. After an Ocado delivery, I made an ‘animal advent’ album to post daily pics on Facebook. Oblivious to Phil leaving on a darkly grey Friday, I went to the co-op for a heavy load before Walking Friend called as arranged. Not keen on chocolate and no point taking them to work as they got tons this time of year, she eschewed Milk Tray but accepted a book I’d just read. Over lunch in the Mill Café, we discussed her efforts to stop smoking, my experience of HRT, the uselessness of SSRI’s and her recent walks. “Noah Dale in this cold weather?” “It was really mild.” “Mild my arse!” Perusing the flea market, a passing man asked a stallholder if she stocked regimental badges and proudly proclaimed he was in the royal protection guard. “Are we meant to be impressed? I wouldn’t mention the palace right now if I were him!” Finding a cigar box guitar in the large charity shop, I enlightened my friend on its provenance and wondered how I’d hide it from Phil. She’d nipped in the butchers when he rang, asking were we in the pub? Meant to meet us in The Square, he’d gone home. I managed to conceal the guitar and joined Phil viewing dusky light on trees in the gloaming. Phil complained it was hard dressing on a cold Saturday. I took the precaution of laying out my clothes before bathing. We tramped leafy paths past the geese into the Methodist church to browse the art fair. Photography Friend updated us on her impending move and bemoaned the terrible government. “String ‘em up!” “They’ll call you Bloody Mary.” “It wouldn’t be the first time!” Wearing a snowman-printed dress, Old Drawing Teacher agreed the market for cards and calendars was saturated. In the sanctuary, Phil had a go at the organ. Initially tentative, his keyboard skills re-emerged. “Don’t show off; they’ll have you in here on Sunday!” We strolled on the canal, admiring reflected yellow leaves and retro clothes (the nice boots were irksomely too small), and into the centre. Unknown crafters in the town hall touted over-priced jewellery. A rainbow emerged among feint sun and spitting rain on the way to the Art Studio. Buying cards from The Printer, Phil joined in the Scarborough big wheel debate. Apparently moved from the pier to Foreshore , I stood corrected! We chatted to Counsellor Friend about her charity badge and to another ex-teacher who remarked to Phil it was his turn to play shop. “Yes, but we can’t eat your wares!”
Roofs glistened wetly on a grey Sunday. I braved cold drizzle and a keen easterly for knobbly veg. Town quiet and seating wet, people huddled in doorways. On the way home, I popped into an Open Studio at the bottom of our street. As the posh printer painstakingly wrapped expensive art for a Guardian family, I grabbed a free postcard and made for the door when she glanced up. I admitted I was a nosey neighbour. I found Dunlop wellies (annoyingly also the wrong size) and shoe brushes in the recycling bins. Phil observed nobody polished shoes anymore. Maybe, but as there nothing wrong with them and recyclers wouldn’t take them, why not give them to charity? He left for the late shift. I wrote a haiga for the first time since Julyi and watched England beat Senegal in the World Cup. Flying home when his house was raided by armed robbers, Rahim Sterling missed the matched but got back in time for the quarter-final. Roasting veg for dinner, I invented a pumpkin-cutting hack but still got back ache. Plagued by heartburn and a whirring mind, I needed the meditation tape to get any sleep and felt awful on a chilly Monday. I forced myself up for warming porridge and re-read the HRT leaflet. Indigestion a possible side-effect, I suspended use until I’d spoken to a medic. Noon by the time I got round to it, I was miraculously first in the surgery queue but there were no appointments, not even phone slots so I was told to ring the chemist. On doing so, they were on an hour-long lunch. The second call dropped. When I eventually got through, the chemist reckoned I needed a different type of HRT for which I had to speak to a doctor. So I’d gone round in circles and would need to ring first thing! Phil empathised with my anxiety. He’d soon be doing likewise with is bothersome neck lump. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I never talk about that stuff.” “True.” To be honest, there’d been clues but on the other hand, when I asked how he was, he lied he was fine. He went to work. Fuggy in the head, I dismantled the freezer carton and manoeuvred it outside. The Widower came past dog-walking. I asked after his health and if he liked Milk Tray. “I’ve gone off chocolate.” “Oh.” “I know a couple of people who might.” Phew! Angry at chainsaws waking me at 7.30 Tuesday I remembered to ring the surgery, attributing tetchiness to hormone withdrawal. The sympathetic receptionist arranged a GP call-back. Attempting to contact BG, the chat bot repeatedly bombed, then I was on indeterminate hold and then another call came in, so I had to drop it (later going round in more circles to find a web complaint form). The GP asked if patches alleviated menopausal symptoms. I observed diminished hot flushes and itchiness, better sleep and, according to my partner, less moodiness, although I hadn’t noticed. Phil thought that was hilarious but it was true! The GP advised I stick to the patches and prescribed antacid. Both depressed, Phil whinged he couldn’t use his brain. “Don’t then.” “I can’t stop.” “Do meditation.” “Ohm!” “Do you want to go somewhere?” “Where?” We unexcitingly went to the co-op. Tills unstaffed, we waited at the kiosk where the woman in front dropped a visa card. With his new shop skills, Phil picked it up before I ran the trolley over it. Again not hearing Phil go to work in the frosty dark Wednesday, I worked on the journal and went out as the dazzling sun reached its zenith just above the treeline. Getting the script, it later twigged they were free as I was 60 and consulted the Age UK website to discover eye tests were too (nothing else till pension age, at least it was something). I browsed extensively for gifts. No £10 offers in the Fair Trade shop as advertised in Valley Life, many items weren’t even priced. I trudged home, took antacid, burped, then the heartburn eased off. Phil returned, fatigued but jolly. ‘No girls’, he’d larked with Male Co-worker. “I don’t know!” “Well, the ladies like to tell us what to do.” “They do sound a bit bossy.” Shivering, we lasted a remarkably long time before turning the boiler on and agreed advice to heat one room wouldn’t work with the humidity. An aptly-named Cold Moon rose at bedtime.
Man On Organ
Record-high waits for and in ambulances could explain 700 excess deaths. 13,000 stuck in hospital with nowhere to go, 13% who used medical equipment at home, cut back to save money. On BBC Breakfast Saturday, covid commemoration commission leader Nicky Morgan, said the consultation closed Monday. Only just hearing of it and not topping a google search, it took some finding.
The Cock’s diary, serialised in the Daily Mail, blamed infected staff and bad managers for covid in care homes rather than his discharging policy. National Care Association’s Nada Ahmed called him deluded and his constituency party declared him unfit to represent them meaning he’d be gone by the general election. The Times revealed China got £3m a month to store unusable PPE. Michelle Mone was accused of bullying cabinet office staff into awarding contracts to PPE Medpro, for her own financial advantage. Director hubby Doug Barrowman put £29m in a secret offshore trust fund for Mone and sprogs. As she took leave of absence from the House of Lords, Rayner demanded contract documents be released: “What have you got to hide?” DHSC subsequently sued Medpro for the full £122 million. After Chris Matheson leaving triggered a by-election, Sam Dixon kept Chester for labour with a bigger majority. Swellen’s reappointment setting a ‘dangerous precedent’, PAC chair Will Wragg said a ‘robust’ system for upholding standards “with proper sanctions for those who break the rules” was needed. Kingy donated dosh via the Felix Project for food bank refrigeration. At a Buck House charity reception, doddery lady-in-waiting and Wills’ godmother Lady Susan Hussey, moved Sistah Space founder Ngozi Fulani’s hair to read her name-badge and interrogate her on her origins. Hussey later stepping down and apologising, the issue of racism in the royal household resurfaced. Wills and Kate In the US for the Earthshot prize, said racism had no place in society but as Megxit’s Netflix trailer dropped, they were booed at baseball. QT in Aberystwyth, MS Vaughan Gethin said it was like saying you’re not one of us, Welsh sec David TC Davies agreed it was wrong and Shavanna Taj of the Welsh TUC lauded the Welsh anti-racism plan. But GB News’ Olivia Utley advocated giving the old biddy some slack – cancel culture gone mad!
Inflation fell slightly to 10.7%. Had it peaked? Branded goods up 12-13% but budget ranges 18%, the differential was noticeable. Farmers unfairly burdened by labour shortages, fertiliser and energy costs, NFU’s Minette Batters warned of sleep-walking into a food supply crisis. Hinting at more seasonal work visas, Therese Coffee-Cup cryptically didn’t want the UK to rely on non-EU workers.
Rejecting the measly 2% pay offer, 86% of PCS members in 124 government departments voted to strike. 1,000 Border Farce staff at 6 airports and the Port of Newhaven would strike 23rd-31st December. The Home Office insisted they had ‘robust systems’ in place to minimise disruption i.e., Oliver Dowdy heading a ‘winter of discontent’ Staff skipping eating and heating having no choice, Mark Serwotka slammed plans to draft squaddies in. The RDG offered 8% over 2 years and no redundancies until 2024. Meeting none of their criteria, RMT rejected it and announced more strike days. Interspersed by a reduced service ‘til 9th January, the National Rail website showed none on our line all week but a train appeared on Look North outside The Refreshment Rooms. Highways Agency and Heathrow action overlapping with rail, Swellen admitted to ‘undeniable disruption’. In co-ordinated action by Unison, GMB and Unite, ambulance workers were striking 21st & 28th December. Elsewhere, Unite members walked out from EMR for 2 days, and would again 23rd-24th Dec. Workers out every day up to Christmas, Pat Cullen agreed the strike was a tragedy but was appalled at Nads Zahawi’s ‘new low’ of saying nurses played into Vlad’s hands. Wes Streeting invited tories to steal his NHS workforce plan. Having rejected a pay offer last month, FBU marched on parliament and were balloted. Not strikes but felled power cables, caused major disruption to Avanti West Coast mainline. Rishi Rich not ruling out banning emergency worker strikes at PMQs, Keir quoted Mark Harper who said his ‘flagship legislation’ wouldn’t help current disputes, so he should stop grand-standing and sort it out. Cabinet neglected to discuss the winter of strife in favour of crime and the online safety bill. To appease backbenchers, ministers diluted house-building targets and relaxed onshore wind farm rules.
A man was arrested for chucking an egg at Kingy in Luton. As Just Stop Oil slow-marched down Old Kent Road, 2 activists were convicted of gluing themselves to The Haywain. Whitehaven coalmine approved to make coke for the steel industry, the mayor welcomed the investment and new jobs but Alook Sharma called it a backward step. Ofgem found water companies underspent on sewer upgrades and a day after the lifting of the Yorks hosepipe ban, gas mains flooded by water mains, left 2,000 properties in Stannington suburb without power. Declaring a state of emergency, Sheffield Council wanted to know why and what could be done to stop it happening again. On Politics North later in the month, Yorkshire Water CEO Nicola Shaw didn’t know what caused a fixture to move and make a hole in the water main laid in 1976 and insisted massive profits went to infrastructure not share dividends. Nobody explained how water got into the gas supply or lampposts. The UN asked nations to up emergency aid contribution by 25%, to a total £424bn. Greek MEP Eva Kaili was exposed for accepting bungs to promote the Qatari World Cup. The Trump organisation was found guilty of tax fraud and Musk’s Neuralink was accused of needlessly killing 1,500 animals in rushed tests. The arrest of 25 nutters foiled a German coup. Conspiracy-theorist Heinrich XIII recruited and trained members of Reichsbürger (Citizens of the Reich) and discussed a new world order with Russian officials. The Stranglers drummer Jet Black died. Well, at 84, he was the oldest punk rocker in town. Alternative Christmas ad The GoKart by Sam Teale from Cleckheaton, with the message ‘Christmas is made, not bought,’ got 7 million viewers globally. Andy Bunman organised a DJ battle for Manchester charity A Bed For The Night. Rayner chose 3 tracks, including Oldham’s very own N-Trance anthem. Angela Raver!
Dark Skies
Haiga – Sub-Zero
An NHS letter stupidly advised we got covid boosters – as if we hadn’t tried! No local walk-ins, I booked a pharmacy down the trainline for Thursday, set the alarm to be there in time and rose to a sparkly thick frost. Hitherto failing to speak to a doctor, Phil followed my lead, ringing at 8 and saying it was urgent. 39th in the queue, he hung on to secure a call-back. Amid a yellow ice warning, I checked trains, calculated timings, harassed Phil to get a move on, and gingerly descended to the main road. Waiting to buy tickets at the station, we found the train cancelled due to frozen points. So much for checking beforehand! I googled the pharmacy’s number to say we’d be late and Phil wandered off for a fag when the GP rang and said she’d refer him to hospital. We browsed displays in the cosy waiting room to warm up until the train arrived. Phil remarked on the 2 different models stuck together . “No-one will notice but you.” As the announcements had an echo, he intoned: “That’s what you get for mixing them up!” After a short ride and brief walk, we arrived at the pharmacy and hovered at the counter until a woman bade us to “Take a seat on the seats!” Two men joined us as we waited for The Vaccinator, behind schedule. In the tiny cubby hole, he jotted down details and, promising similar side-effects to Moderna, prepped a Pfizer vial. “Not the fancy new bivalent?” “It is bivalent.” “Good!” After a quick, sharp needle pain, Phil was next. His rucksack a tripping hazard, a pile of coins strew the floor as I picked it up. Waiting Man 1 offered to help. I said I was fine, then went dizzy. Buying some essentials at £1 each, I commented it was like Poundland but better, cos not everything in there was a pound! Returning to the station, we took photos of hoary shrubs and entered the Refreshment Rooms. Attractively adorned with posters, artefacts and curious, a friendly server offered a sadly limited menu. We plumped for coffee which was very good and rolls which weren’t. Made of cold bread and raw-looking meat, they’d been pinged not fried. Lunch inadequate, we pondered going into the town but as a train came, we jumped on. “This might be a mistake; staying out could save on heating.” “Do you want to go back in the waiting room?” “Don’t be daft!” Unhurriedly ambling home, park grass mimicked rimed seaweed. Frost covered felled foliage. A random orange was stuck in the lock. Higher ground strangely stayed green and leafy. Both suffering mild side-effects (nostril niggles and sore arms), we edited photos. Phil’s AI composed cute snowy pics. “You’ve given up serious art then!”
Still sore, I exercised carefully Friday, gave up on an unusable ipad (repeatedly indicating a dead battery even on charge and after Phil tampered), applied a patch, and belched. We spent the morning expunging bathroom mould. As the sun dipped below the treeline before noon, the kitchen (aka South Pole), was nithering. Phil went to work, I went to antiques shops, for a nice chat about Hull and gifts. Slightly above budget, I was pleased with my finds. Trudging to the main road in the near-dark, queuing bus passengers laughed at a man randomly shouting. Nobody knew what he was on about! Saturday, weak sun peaked beneath an ominous cloud bank. A dusting of snow turned the world white. Disgruntled crows perched on poles. Feeling Christmassy, I hummed the seasonal tune. The tea was cold when a tired Phil emerged. As I’d forgot the warming cloth, I pinged him a cup. “Thank you.” “The things you do for love!” Seeing a Northern Fail video of Chester on Insta, Phil was keen to visit the magical Christmas-land. Confirming strikes meant no trains running on our line Tues-Sat the following week, Phil laughed: “Get back to work!” Too bitter to go walking, I went hunting. Warmer outside than in, snow-melt drizzle created damp air. The words ‘free’ and ‘cake’ on the hoarding outside a maker’s fair were sadly unconnected. Thinking a matching bracelet would be nice, the jeweller responsible for my birthday gifts, offered to make one for me. Rather flimsy and barely wearing the jewels I had, I consulted with Phil but wasn’t fussed. The man road heaving, I muttered impatiently behind a dawdling man. He glanced back and stepped aside: “Sorry, am I in your way?” Oops! At the Baptist Chapel Christmas fair, I rummaged through a DVD pile, admired an adorable knitted nativity and discussed crochet with a volunteer. A neighbour I knew from drawing class appeared in a pinny. I suppressed surprise that she belonged to the ‘have you got a bag, dear?’ mob, to exchange pleasantries. She made kind reference to my Valley Life articles. Icy rain reverting to snow, I headed home and saw The Student, back for the hols. Her gran visiting, she kept her distance to briefly debate the crap state of affairs and her dissertation on German gay men. “I won’t make a joke, it won’t be woke!” Phi had unearthed an unused wallet (which I bought him years ago) and took stuff out of his old battered one. Loyalty cards dated 2017, it needed a clear-out! We timed dinner round footie. After Harry Kane missed a second penalty, France beat England 2-1. Well, if he’d scored, it would only have prolonged the agony.
Sunday, a weak sun rendered the scrappy snow pretty. Quentin Blake’s Clown inspired me to modify his angel for the Christmas tree. Saved on computer for yonks, I printed one to embellish. On a cloudy night, snow reflected artificial light. With the brightness, thudding heart and whirring mind, I struggled to sleep without the meditation tape. Monday, I needed a beanie hat and 2 pairs of socks to go to the South Pole – a balmy 2 degrees! Phil swore at a letter advising he do nothing unless he’d not heard by 2nd Feb. “It’s just confirmation of the referral.” “I’m worried.” “I know but try not to.” I gave him a big hug and distracted him with seagulls unusually wheeling over roofs rather than water. Taking rubbish out, I heard a strange noise when I went back in. Failing to close the lid, the kettle hadn’t turned off. It was my turn to cuss. We definitely had condensation now! He cleaned it up and fed me Milk Tray. They’d gone posher since my day – salted caramel no less! Well wrapped up and wary of black ice (not too bad on the street below but as a neighbour agreed, lethal on the small steps), I went to the co-op. Seeing Historian Neighbour, I asked how she was coping with the cold. “I’ve never known cold like it.” “Do you like Milk Tray?” “I prefer dark.” The Store Manager rang to say the heating had totally packed in and to ‘wear anything’. Phil dressed as Michelin Man. “How about a ballerina or a fairy princess?” “That’s what they’d expect from me.” “Cripes! They must be very un-PC if you’re ‘woke’ by their standards!” Throwing seeds to the birds from the doorstep, I almost hit Neighbour-From-The-Street-Below. “Soz. I can’t be arsed putting clobber on just to do this.” Phil guffawed at my cracked hands. “Call that cracked!” “Poor you. Have you still got hand cream?” “Yes, I’m using tons.” I reverted to the extra-strong stuff for some improvement. Tuesday, I limited noise while Phil slept in before a day of rest. Hearing a rap on the door, I hurried down to find a jolly man with a parcel for Phil. The box shape a giveaway (hint: no need to scour shops for ankle boots), he’d expected it to come in the usual nondescript packaging. I pretended I didn’t see it. After an unprecedented unbroken 8 hours, I started Wednesday dozy. Almost in tears with tummy pain, I declined to divulge details. Phil helped bring firtrees in and find elusive beans in the co-op with his news skills. I used member’s points for a cheap shop. Anticipating another 8 hours, I settled down earlier but had a crap night. Trying various distraction techniques, images of snowy roads were only fleetingly calming.
Stuck Orange
7.2 million waiting for operations, Phil said; “No wonder there’s a labour shortage. “It’s one reasons.” Research found Capivasertib could shrink breast tumours by blocking the cancer-driving molecule AKT, while Moderna and Merck’s cancer vaccine using mRNA tech, could mean 44% less fatalities. 15 kids dead from Strep A, home testing kits sold out and government gainsaid chemists’ claims of antibiotic shortages. 40 confirmed diphtheria cases, Hussein Haseeb Ahmed’s family discovered he died via social media.
Most QT panellists agreeing we were in Broken Britain, Guy Opperman disingenuously claimed tories supported public workers but money was tight. Isobel Oakeshot (who co-wrote The Cock’s Covid Diaries) railed at shocking public services at a time of historically high taxes. Nurses leaving or converting to costlier agency staff, Lucy Powell said not paying more was a false economy. She also observed the Whitehaven coalmine contained the wrong sort of coal and the steel industry could switch to electric arc furnaces. Isobel thought it un-green to import Russian coal and mad to import US shale. 40 backbenchers wrote Rishi he should cut taxes, scrap wasteful inclusion projects and spend more on front-line services. Owing HMRC £1m and the bank £700k, Tory MP Adam Afriyie went bankrupt but wouldn’t quit until a general election. 5 new allegations against Rabid Raab from when he was justice sec, made a total of 8. ONS stats showed the economy shrank 0.3% across all sectors. The C**t denied Brexit or the tories were to blame. IFS disagreed and Reeves said ‘managed decline’ was a choice. Almost going bust during the pandemic, Monsoon sales rose 42% and they announced 22 new shops. Less vacancies in the private sector, wage growth was 6.9% and 2.7% in the public sector. The gap at a new high but both still way below inflation, the TUC reckoned real-terms pay was cut by 3%. IT geek Jason Baldry put a map on warmspaces.org. ukii.
A decade-high 417,000 working days were lost to strikes. Royal Mail workers out again, Christmas posting dates were brought forward a week and Environment Agency staff began working to rule. Mick Lynch accused ministers of sabotaging a deal over driver-operated trains. Teacher’s pay ‘held down for a decade’, the TUC’s Kate Bell said walkouts were likely. Ed sec Gill Keegan helpfully retorted they’d resist all pay demands. Cobra meeting regularly, On Laura K., Uncleverly insisted it wasn’t for the government to negotiate, thus health strikes would proceed. He wasn’t quizzed on a lack of qualified army drivers to staff ambulances, nor on ex chief Lord Dannatt saying squaddies might think: “I joined up to be a soldier, not a strike-breaker.”
The Trondheim Troll brought an arctic blast, wintry showers and sub-zero temperatures. Amid low winds and high energy demand, households could be asked to limit usage Fridays and Saturdays. 4 kids died after falling through ice on Babbs Mill Lake, Solihull, London launched an emergency protocol for rough sleepers, freezing river foam created ice pancakes in Linn Park, Glasgow and on The Tyne at Hexham and traffic got stuck in snow on the M25 and in a herd of cows on the M62. Who needed Just stop Oil! Policing their protests cost 37.5m Oct-Dec.
Only 96 arrests for illegal entry to the UK under the Nationality and Borders Act since June, Rishi revealed a 5-point plan to clear the asylum claim backlog: a new 700-staff unit to monitor small boat crossings; stop using hotels and house asylum seekers in disused holiday parks, military sites and student halls; double the number of asylum caseworkers to assess claims; Border Farce staff at Tirana airport; redefine modern slavery to ‘make it unambiguously clear that if you enter the UK illegally, you should not be able to remain here.’ Keir dismissed his plans as ‘unworkable gimmicks’ and refugee charities as ‘cruel’ and ‘ineffective’. A dinghy capsized off the coast of Dungeness at 3.00 a.m., triggering a major incident. In a joint UK-French rescue, 43 migrants were saved but at least 4 perished in freezing water. 19 year old Ibrahima Bar was later arrested for people-trafficking. Swellen told MPs this type of tragedy was why they worked so hard to destroy the people-trafficking business model. Justin Welby tweeted that asylum seeker debates were about human lives. Tim Naor Hilton of Refugee Action, said the tragedy was predictable and inevitable, and more would die trying to reach safety if the government didn’t create more safe routes. Quite!
At the last PMQs of 2022, after offering disingenuous condolences to those who drowned in the channel and saying cancelling Avanti’s contract was subject to review, Rishi was asked why he wouldn’t intervene to avert nurse strikes. He told Keir they got a pay rise when others didn’t, plus bursaries. Keir called playing games with people’s health a badge of shame and recommended he scrap non-doms to fund the NHS. Insisting he already invested billions to clear the backlog through new diagnostic centres and surgical hubs, Rishi accused Keir of ignoring the impact of covid. SNP Westminster leader Stephen Flynn, not as funny as Ian Blackford, asked when he’d see the error of his ways and take the Scottish government lead to negotiate a settlement. Unable to turn heating on, people were scared stiff. Rishi used this as a cue to bang on about supporting household energy bills, upcoming extra cost of living payments and caring for the most vulnerable.
After a sharp drop in the value of Tesla shares, Musk was overtaken by Bernard Arnault of luxury brand LVMH as the richest man in the world. Twitter dissolved the trust and safety council – so no moderation of hate speech! As France beat Morocco in the World Cup semi-final, there was rioting in Montpelier and a boy died after being ‘violently hit’ by a car. the last Dambuster 101 year-old Johnson, died.
Do Not Travel
Haiga – Hope
Thursday 15th, hilltops glowed in sunshine and the bathroom window frozen shut. Reaching up to try opening it, a bath tap knob flew off and fell behind a storage cube. No sign of it, I retrieved errant cotton buds when a container toppled off, spilling toiletries on the floor. Angry and upset, I cleared them up but gave up purging ice, donned the bear coat and went to the market. Quiet in the cold, I got a 9-pack loo roll for first time in months and rare Cornish sardines. Even the liver healthy and tasty, Phil declared it a treat. “They’re cheap so they shouldn’t be a treat. Maybe it’s a benefit of Brexit at last, not sending them to Spain.” In The Store, I offered to help Phil direct a doddery old man but he said it wasn’t my job and buzzed Male Co-worker as I eschewed extortionate squirty cream and selected a couple of items for Phil to buy with his staff discount. In the Rival Store, I chose sweet gifts, but quadruple the expected price, dumped them at the counter and went to the Sweet Shop instead. Later complaining about my awful morning, and ice on the inside of windows even with the heating on as much as we dared, Phil was also worried by scary energy costs. Shifts updated, he’d work early NY Day. Actually more inconvenient than working Christmas Day, at least he’d be home by 1. Depressed and lacking energy, I abandoned the journal and stuck extra sparkles to the Quentin Blake angel.
Phil managed to both slam the front door and leave it unlocked Friday. Subsequently roused by interminable chainsaws, I rose grumpily and hoping the sun just peeping out in a blue sky would do the job for me, ignored icy windows after the previous debacle. Making Christmas cake and working on the laptop slow, I decided to conclude sweet gift shopping at the co-op. An impatient woman behind me at the till impeded my bag-packing. Tutting, I used an empty conveyor, plodded home and found a card from End Neighbour on the doormat. I went to say thanks and, as we weren’t sending cards this year, ask if she’d like Milk Tray. “How sweet of you! They’re very welcome actually.” “Good! I can’t believe how hard they are to get rid of. Who doesn’t want free chocs in these hard times?” Her card earlier than normal, I’d assumed she was going away but she’d been at home ill. Asking after Phil, she also thought The Store being shut Christmas Day odd. When he got home, he asked if a parcel had come. Due by 6.30, he moaned he’d have to delay resting and suggested we took turns. “Okay, but should I be seeing it?” “I’ll stay up then.” About to say something else, his phone emitted a loud burst of sound. I stomped up to bed but unable to warm my feet despite 4 pairs of socks, gave up so he could have his siesta. “I’m waiting for the delivery.” “I’m here now.” “I thought you said no.” “Well, you did order the thing but you’re tired from work so go on.” There was a door knock two minutes later – another ‘surprise’ ruined by the package’s shape! Saturday slightly above zero, clouds indicated impending snow. I unearthed a long-forgotten warm merino wool mix top before decorating the tree, accompanied by seasonal music. Phil got home with a sprout stick, took it to the kitchen then I heard clattering and foul language: “Bloody Robert The Chair!” He meant folding ones stashed at the bottom of the stairs. The kettle failed to come on. As Phil began tinkering, I snappily told him to eat and used the old stove-top one to make coffee. Later getting it to work by holding the switch down, I blamed myself for leaving the lid up and he blamed the cold. Loud honking penetrated early darkness. Was it the coca cola truck? Close: Santa’s truck. Apparently an annual tradition distributing gifts between here and Halifax, we’d never seen nor heard it before and could only think of one local garage with vehicles that big. After films and the last ever episode of Lucifer, we laughed at John Rutter talking crap on BBC 4. His Christmas music might be good but he was a knob!
Putting more decorations up Sunday, I rescued a green sprig from a dead plant. The snow already melted, nasty stuff fell from the dark sky as I dumped waste. Phil went to work and I watched the World Cup final. Argentina stunning in the first half, France made a comeback in the second. Still drawn after thrilling ET, Argentina won on penalties. Thinking it possibly the best cup final I’d ever seen, the commentator said it was the best one ever! But given the homophobia and dead construction workers, I didn’t agree with FIFA boss Gianni Infantino who declared the World Cup ‘a success on all fronts’. The Argentine squad returned to 4 million fans thronging Buenos Aires. Abandoning their open-top bus for a helicopter, riot police were deployed and 2 died. As Phil enjoyed the highlights, I stayed up to keep him company and re-watch the goals, got to bed rather late, dozed off to soothing pouring rain and overslept the next day. Wiping at dripping water on downstairs windows, I realised it was on the outside – reverse condensation! Phil had gone to the loo at 4.00 a.m. and couldn’t see out because of snowmelt fog. I posted a haigai and he shopped. Having forgotten his key, he knocked on the door, hid his purchases and sat down when there was a feeble rap. Yet another delivery! For dinner, I fried smelly camembert and ham to put on muffins, naming them Chamburgers. Phil clumping about early Tuesday, I gave up sleeping. A crescent moon shone in an indigo pre-dawn sky. Windy doing exercise, I took antacid and needed a break. After tedious chores, I installed the antique Hull tree, moved the kitchen table to retrieve cookie-cutters form the back cupboard, forgot to put other things away and annoyingly had to do it again before searching for last-minute buys. The main road shops expensive, I returned hungry to have lunch, adorn Christmas cards (getting glitter everywhere) and wrap gifts, ordering Phil to not come in the bedroom when he returned. Waking early with heartburn Wednesday, I struggled to sleep more, tried not to fret, sent messages to family and friends, upcycled glass pudding pots into candle holders, and got Phil to help make pies and fake Spekulatius. The butter hard and a binding ingredient missing from the recipe, the cookies took ages. Tasting bland, spiciness improved with age. Phil looked for the wrapping paper. “Wrapping my pressies? It’s not even Christmas Eve!”
Despite cold, smoky greyness Thursday 22nd, I opened the window and searched for clean bedding. Supposedly helping, Phil had put it in the wash. As I complained of making things harder, he countered I over-reacted. On the plus side, he reduced the Talk-Talk internet sub by around £30 a month. As he went out, I heard him say ‘hello’, then a rustle. Had he come back in? Was it a burglar or a cat? No; the window cleaners. From the threshold, I apologised again for the summer mix-up, confirmed they got our hand-delivered payment and offered Christmas greetings. Bare shelves notwithstanding, Phil secured what we needed and another pressie – so much for early wrapping! Expected for coffee and mince pies, Walking Friend texted she was going back to bed with flu. I took her a goody bag of pies, cookies, card and DVD. Presuming my knock wouldn’t be answered, she popped her head out of the window above. “If you can’t come to the mince pies, the mince pies must come to you!” Warily descending slippery steps, I hung back for a young woman coming through the snicket engrossed on her phone, getting a half-hearted sorry and thanks. Tired and achy, I had a terrible night. Unable to settle and relaxation games useless, I looked out at a peculiarly cloudy, starless but bright night sky. Friday, nasty fine rain and wind gusts punctuated the dark which didn’t lift all day. Already feeling crap from lack of sleep, I was vexed by a dripping tap in the kitchen, put the hot water back on for baths, whinged at Phil that it cost money, then conceded the tap was easy to accidently knock on. Emerging squeaky clean from a long, fluffy soak, he declared it ‘luxury’, listed his tasks then sat on the couch making pictures. As I expressed concern at quite a bit to do, he promised to help Christmas Eve. Needing bread, I went to the busy co-op. My Namesake at the till asked had I done now? “I hope so.” “Will you be here again tomorrow?” “I hope not!” “I will; I’ve got 2 days off. Happy Christmas.” “And you. Enjoy your weekend off! I cut ivy from the garden wall for the hearth. Utterly filthy, it required copious rinsing. I baked my signature veggie sausage rolls and topped the cake. Melted choc already setting as I stuck almonds and ginger on, I melted more for a pleasing drizzle effect then collapsed on the sofa with a glass of wine.
Knitted Nativity
Ex-PM Boris earned over £1m for bumbling speeches. The government unveiling a 10-point campaign for us to reduce energy bills, BBC news visited Shatts’ posh house. Come up with something that saved a grand a year, I might take note! BOE raised interest to 3.5%. Majestic booze sales up 140%, Serco profit’s outlook rose by £5m. Curry’s at a loss, TUI revenues quadrupled in the year to 30th September (after 2020-2 losses).
Treasury coffers were boosted by £85.1bn more tax including £8.3bn property tax in the past year. BCC said ‘structural problems’ with the UK-EU trade deal was damaging. Someone finally admitting Brexit was shit, on QT, Rees-Moggy still insisted it was great. On Newscast, Robert Peston revealed Truss was in floods of tears before her ill-fated 8 minute press conference. I had no clue what their ‘I ooze stamina’ T-shirts meant.
Hoping we’d blame unions not government for disruption, and resolute it was irresponsible to up public sector pay, Dowdy advised health workers to cancel strikes but Caroline Nokes advised negotiation. A mother informed Steve Barclay he was wrong blaming NHS issues on the pandemic. Accepting some of what she said, he invited union reps to meet, not to negotiate pay but to discuss emergency cover. Rishi unbelievably went to a food charity to express disappointment that nurses planned further action. During the first 999 responders strike, health chiefs couldn’t ensure patient safety and ministers warned against risky activities. Less demand suggested they were heeded. A squaddie drafted in to drive ambulances felt ‘honoured’ to be called on. What! Honoured to be a scab? A patient complained one responded to his emergency, but couldn’t drive to hospital. Sat up talking on zoom, he obviously didn’t need blue-lighting. The second strike day cancelled so people could enjoy a stress-free Christmas, they’d resume in January, a day after the anti-strike bill was set out. Pointlessly mandating minimum cover; with staff shortages, they couldn’t provide effective service any day! RCN Scotland rejected a 7.5% pay offer and would strike in the new year. Stopped trains were joined by London buses. Roads busy, scientists found dangerous particles from braking trains could lead to dementia and other health problems. Despite terrible service, Avanti incredibly got a £6.5m performance bonus. Government said it dated back to July-Sept 2021, before timetable changes. As Avanti blamed crew shortages for less trains, a software failure led to 100 TPE cancellations. Another 2-day postal strike meant no more Christmas cards. Heathrow and Eurostar strikes off, incoming travellers reported no issues during the Border Farce airport one. Mark Serwotka said troops got 5 hours training to only check passports, not look for signs of dodginess as proper staff would. Enough in the strike fund until March and a mandate for action until May, he predicted months of disruption. 130 bus companies signed up to a scheme for maximum £2 fares Jan-March 2023.
When asked, 57.7% of Musk’s followers said he should step down as head of twitter. He promised to do so, when he found someone ‘foolish enough’ to take over. Future polls would only be open to blue tick account-holders. The High court ruled the Rwanda policy lawful, but their circumstances not considered, 8 individual’s cases must be reviewed. Refugee charities later appealed. Determined flights would go ahead asap, Swellen couldn’t find any airlines to participate. Trying to get into a full Brixton Academy, fans forced open the doors and the Asake gig stopped. A fan and a security guard subsequently died, a man arrested and the Academy’s licence revoked ‘til April 2023. A gun attack at a Kurdish cultural centre injured 3 and killed 3. The culprit had just been released after attacking migrants in camps with a sword. Rioting ensued. Terry Hall of The Specials and Fun Boy 3, died aged 63. New King Charles banknotes would be in circulation by mid-2024. Patrick Thelwell who threw an egg at Kingy in York was charged with threatening behaviour. As the massive ‘AquaDom’ in the swanky Berlin Radisson Blu exploded, 1 million gallons of water gushed from the aquarium. No people hurt, 1,500 fish perished and pigeons enjoyed a boon. The cause was likely material fatigue, not the voice of Young Chorister of the Year Naomi Simon from York, who could smash glass hundreds of miles away! Chicken Mick Santa handing out sweets and teddies and collecting for New Hope Worcester Children’s Charity, refused to pay a parking fine for his sleigh aka motorbike. A slew of Christmas singles, Northallerton Allotmenteers formed of men growing veg during lockdown for a local hospice, released Sprouts (let it all out), the Half-Timer’s effort raised money for FareshareUK. and Lad Baby reached number 1 for the fifth time. Feed The UK featuring money expert Martin Lewis who could actually sing, was a damning indictment of the government!
I’m Dreaming Of A Grey Christmas
Haiga – Saturnalia
Characteristic Saturnalia light appeared on Christmas Eve. Mainly doing haircuts and food prep, I got ratty as incessant honking trucks interrupted a peaceful day; they could at least play seasonal tunes! For that, we headed to Carols in The Square. Back after 3 years of covid restrictions, it was rammed. Pressed against a shop wall, an ex-pubgoer turned canal-drinker, joyfully beamed and sang beside us. A Friend-couple asserted they owed us a meal. Drawing Teacher remarked on the lovely tradition. Crooning over, we perused hostelries and settled on a revamped Trad Pub. A wicker figure sat next to a woman in the corner of a nigh-empty room. “Is he with you?” I joked. Then a crowd piled in. “Is anyone using that chair?” I felt like Billy No-Mates until Phil brought fancy gins from the bar. Yuletide ditties endless, I sympathised with hospitality and retail workers. “Tell me about it!” laughed Phil. Hungry, we nosed in the recently opened Ex-Bank bar on the way home for a buffet-style dinner, wine and more gin. Phil remarked: “Don’t say I never treat you.” “It was indeed a treat. The whole day was nice, except the honking!
Christmas Day not white but grey, roofs shone festively. Among a generous 20 gifts, Phil got me the new Muse album on vinyl, a Victorian silver coin, a gorgeous Folktale book (although rather scholarly, story notes were often longer than the tales) and splendid black ankle boots. I gave him the sparkly card and not quite as many gifts. He was chuffed with Britannia III, the cigar-box guitar and the vintage camera even though the case screw had the wrong thread. Messages from Walking Friend thanking me for the goody bag and from Musician Friend were welcome but a plethora of intrusive family ones weren’t. Why would I want to see their dinner selfies instead of enjoying our own? I turned alerts off.
The windows streaming with sleety rain Boxing Day, there was enough in the demisting sponge to water plants. Although I’d suggested Phil not wash up, I didn’t mean leave cream to solidify on trifle bowls and Irish coffee glasses. As I grumbled, he admitted to being a tad drunk. I posted a haiga and began Film Reviews 2022iii. Not looking forward to work, at least Phil had no deliveries to deal with. Irked he’d swapped next day’s shifts he said we could go walking beforehand. I abstained from an evening tipple so I’d be up in time – a needless precaution, as it turned out. Getting freezing hands and damp pants taking rubbish out Tuesday, despite his enthusiasm, I refused an outing in the drizzle and listened to Muse’s Willy of the People – we’re all effing fucked! Phil again dithered over late drinks but feeling tired, I didn’t want one and he didn’t bother. Gassiness causing lumpiness and pointless contacting doctors until after the hols, I ditched the HRT patches. Regardless of discomfort and worry, I slept well to start Wednesday in a stupor. I belched and thought Phil was taking the mick when he did too, but he wasn’t. As promised, he helped with housework and errands, using his co-op points for cheap groceries.
Planning a trip to The City Thursday, we got over early narkiness to go to the station. Train delays confusing, an old man in front of me at the booking office hesitated then went for a bus. The clerk fiddled with his display and advised as the trains were messed up, we shouldn’t believe the boards. “I don’t care as long as one comes” Soon after, a fast service whizzed us to The City. Descending steps out, a small white thing bounced in front of us. Was it a tooth? No, an earbud. The owner disgustingly picked it up and stuck it back in his ear! Assailed by the typical biting wind, we crossed to the tiny park where a couple pointed out Phil’s shoes were undone then cadged a fag. “Nowt’s changed then!” Aiming for the Van Gogh experience in the museum, the gallery was inexplicably closed. We wandered round, avoiding noisy kids’ zones, and found a few new exhibits among the telly toys and cartoon models. Having lunch in a trendy Asian eatery, Phil ordered extras and left me his card to pay while he freshened up. I jested with the waitress: “Should I abscond?” Walking past sad dilapidation, the clock tower rang out ‘in excelsis deo’. Phil remarked it was cleverly programmable, unlike Big Ben. Climbing to the top end of the concrete shopping centre, Phil bet 10p the market would make me laugh within seconds. I was instantly in stitches at the sight of a fake Roman frieze. While I selected Primark basics, he got woollies and insisted on paying for everything. I nipped in a discount store to find toiletries and very slow staff, and he nipped in another to not find phone leads. Out the nearest exit, we immediately spotted phone shops. Asking a tenner each for the leads, I spluttered and walked out. “How much do you want to pay?” I forgot shopping here was like Turkey. Raining by then, we caught a speedy train back and dashed through the park. Having a stitch from moving too fast after a big lunch, I struggled to fetch the coffee as Phil absconded upstairs. “Not hungry?” he asked “Nope. Eat fruit if you are.”
Woken by a strange noise Friday, I couldn’t discern if it was external or in my head. Realising Phil would have gone, I forced myself up. After the strikes, we got mail for 2 days running including Christmas cards. Ickle Brother posted his 12th December. I texted: ‘Good news! Happy Christmas!’ He replied it was like the 1970’s but with better hair! Messaging Walking Friend to see if she was better, it transpired she’d had a medical emergency the other day but got help form a passer-by and the chemist who got hold of a doctor. In need of nicotine patches, I offered to get them but as she said she needed to get out, I bade she take care. I struck lucky in charity shops and went to The Store. Phil was at the counter and handed me eggs he’d bought from the butchers first thing. A man from HO came to say as weekend early opening and late closing was a waste of time, hours would be cut. Doing miles more than his contract anyway, Phil didn’t mind and he’d start later New Year’s Day so could stay up to toast 2023. Evening news featured old Scottish volunteers building the WW1 plane Sopwith Strutter. “I bet that took some time,” observed Phil. “Yep, some of them died in the process!” More recent demises involved John Bird, Pele, Vivienne Westwood, and Joseph Ratzinger (aka Benedict XVI), Pope Francis would preside over the funeral, the first time in 2,000 years that had happened. Staying in on a mangy NYE, we enjoyed a posh dinner and weak fizz. A firework boom alerting us to midnight, we clinked glasses and switched from films to the London display. The usual dodgy soundtrack was followed by the relentless Sam Ryder and raucous pissheads disturbing sleep. Shut up! Meanwhile, Thor the Walrus travelled north from Norfolk to Scarborough where fireworks were cancelled.
Flu admissions outstripping covid for the first time since the pandemic, the ‘twindemic’ put 12,000 in hospital. 267 in critical care, capacity reached 95%. After the demos, China relaxed zero-covid rules but increased police checks. Experts feared no immunity could mean 60 million infected and 2 million fatalities within months. Authorities changed official death by covid to respiratory issues only. Travel restrictions lifted and info obscured, the UK joined Italy and USA to impose extra checks on incoming Chinese– they’d require a negative test from 5th January. The Chinese called it foreign spin.
2022 officially the hottest ever, there were 10% excess deaths – was it covid, deficient access to health services during lockdowns or interminable waits for ambulances and treatment? Citing the NHS crisis, reporters didn’t mentioned lack of GP availability, but on the plus side, there were more cancer referrals. 6.9% up on 2021, record home entertainment sales reached £11.1bn. Harry Styles topped music and Top Gun Maverick topped videos. A bumper year for M&S festive food sales, World Cup fans swilling beer and munching pizza grew the UK economy 0.1% in November. Musk’s $2bn losses outstripped other rich twats, and illicit crypto cost $20.1bn.
“The gaffer picks the team, that’s how it goes and that’s how it has always gone. Frankly, I couldn’t care less about the circus of who’s in, and who’s out, who’s up, who’s down, who knew, who didn’t” (Lisa Nandy)
Reshuffle kerfuffle
Leaves in Snow
An ‘arctic shot’ brought overnight lows of -8, yellow ice warnings and a freezing start to Monday. Waking early, I planned to doze until the heating came on and fell proper asleep to be woken by Phil. After warming porridge, I made a huge effort to get moving, did nasty chores and donned the sensible boots and bear coat to take a sample to the surgery before the noon deadline. Black ice lurked on partially-cleared pavements and partially-gritted roads. Small crunchy drifts huddled against brickwork. Clumps of frilly leaves shivered off by the cold, settled prettily on iced shrubs. Irked Phil hadn’t made coffee for my return, I stomped down to the South Pole to fetch it and slumped on the sofa, posted blogs and worked on the next episode of the journal. As the temperature rose late evening, the snow disappeared as if by magic. At bedtime, I had a EHS episode which sounded like an actual explosion and I recalled a few recent incidents but not the dates.
Lampooners pointed out Omicron was an anagram of moronic. 11 confirmed cases in the UK and the mutant’s resistance to vaccines a mystery, JCVI maintained we were still better protected with boosters and recommended all adults got one after 3 months rather than 6. 12-15 year olds would be offered a second dose of Pfizer. More cases also found in Belgium, Austria, Denmark, France, Holland and Australia, G7 health ministers met. Rose Allin-Khan berated the government for the limited mandating of face-masks: ‘Does covid not spread in pubs?’ In the wake of Storm Arwen during which 3 died, people were stuck in the Tan Hill Inn for 3 days with an oasis tribute band and the I’m a Celeb set was damaged. At a ceremony to mark Barbados becoming an independent republic, Dame Sandra Mason was sworn in as president, Rihanna became a national hero and Bonny Prince Charlie appeared as a figurehead. In a shadow cabinet reshuffle, Yvette Coop was made shadow home secretary, David Lammy shadow foreign secretary and Lisa Nandy would shadow The Glove-Puppet on ‘levelling up’.* Outlining plans for overhauling rules and procedures on politicians’ behaviour, Rayner appeared unaware of the moves leading to speculation she was blindsided. Lisa ‘couldn’t care less’ about the ‘reshuffle kerfuffle’.
I was up with the 8 o’clock alarm Tuesday. A text link allowed me to track the gas engineer but required a log in. I left it until after exercise, by which time I’d missed a call from the guy himself. I phoned him to be told he’d be 20 minutes and got dressed just in time. We directed him to the boiler upstairs and I tidied some tools away downstairs so we didn’t get sued for injury. I’d just gone back up when he wanted to know where the timer was meaning I had to go back down again, then he asked where the gas metre was. I escorted him to the cubby hole and hung around in the South Pole until he’d done. He said everything was okay but advised on age and efficiency as usual. We assured him we knew but couldn’t afford a replacement until it wore out. In the co-op later, the fresh food aisles were almost bare thanks to yet another power cut. I had a member’s offer of a quid off prosecco and biccies. I got the fizz but eschewed the Fox’s fabulously biscuits – what was festive about jammy dodgers? At the kiosk, only the furthest till was open with a notice claiming it was to keep staff safe, but two of them stood chatting with no social distancing. Being served, I was deafened and stressed out by an awful fire alarm test.
My member’s points not added, the receipt said there was a problem with my card and I had to ring the freephone number. I rang later and was subsequently asked for feedback on the call. They stupidly wanted to know why I hadn’t use the website. It wasn’t an option, you morons!
The latest restrictions came into force at 4.00 a.m., mandating PCR tests for all returning travellers, 10 days’ isolation for anyone in contact, even if vaccinated, and face-coverings on public transport and in retail settings. Secondary schoolkids were ‘strongly advised’ to wear them in communal areas. Dr. Philippa Whitford MP pointed out the 2-day wait for a PCR result was confusingly less than the virus’ incubation period In a late vote, MPs extended the measures to March 2022. The 1922 committee feared a return to a ‘pingdemic’ while labour wanted to go further and require working from home. Doing the media rounds, Jenny Harries advised minimising social contacts to slow the spread of Omicron but amid concerns of the impact on hospitality, Boris contradicted her, saying there was no need to “change the overall guidance about how people should be living their lives.” At a press conference, he promised a booster within two months to everyone eligible thanks to help from the army and new vax centres. Amanda Pritchard pleaded for more volunteers. Pfizer CE Albert Bourla said they’d already started to develop a new vaccine which would be ready in 95 days. Gérald Darmanin suggested more talks with the UK to discuss proposals for a ‘balanced agreement’ to tackle the migrant crisis were imminent. Inflation in the eurozone reached 4.9%, the highest since 1997 and TSB were to shut 70 branches.
Nonsensical
Crazy Café Shelves
Unlike the previous day, the alarm didn’t rouse me immediately Wednesday. Preparing to go out, it started teeming down leading to a rapid change of outerwear and a mild panic before going to the bus stop. In the next town, we made a few purchases from B&M, including the Fox’s fabulously biscuits. Phil disagreed that jammy dodgers weren’t festive and they were cheaper than the co-op even with the member’s offer. Heading into the Market Hall café, The Poet hurried in and out again. I gave a hasty greeting and wondered if we had to wear masks – some people did, some didn’t. Waiting for food, I perused the mad wall art and crazy junk shelves. Adding up the bill took ages. As they were short-staffed, I posited it was normally the job of an absentee.
Arriving at the health centre slightly early, there was no queue outside. But inside, a snaky red line led to a series of differently coloured stripes and thence to treatment rooms. We shared jokes with staff about it being like the game twister and nobody knowing if vaccines worked against new variants. Allowed in together, I had my booster first. The needle hard to get in my arm, the doctor remarked: “that was quite tough.” ‘Thanks’, I thought, ‘that’ll really hurt later!’ During the compulsory 15- minute sit in the waiting room, I noted the brand stamped on our cards. Affecting a booming film voice I declared: “Moderna Spikevax! That sounds like it could fight Omicron!” We left via the back door. I was bursting for a pee. “You can have a piddle in Lidl!” quipped Phil. We got a smattering of traditional Christmas fayre from the German supermarket, then considered going in TOFs but Phil felt weird and I was knackered. A longer wait for the bus back, we gazed up at late sunlight on the hills, skeins of geese flying past pink clouds and the rescue helicopter following the ridge – was someone lost on the pike? Back home, Phil had to go back out, leaving me to heft rucksacks to the kitchen. Collapsing on the sofa, I reviewed lists and decided we’d done quite well. Phil’s reaction to Spikevax even queerer, my arm ached as expected and I developed a headache and nausea. We cheered up eating the last of the Halloween drumsticks. I sucked mine into a pixie mushroom shape. “It’s impossible to be grown up eating a lolly.” “If everyone ate lollies, there’d be world peace.” Feeling progressively worse throughout the evening, at bedtime I took ibuprofen, shuffled the pillows to make a hollow for my painful arm and settled down for a mediocre night.
UKHSA identified another 9 cases of Omicron, making a total of 22 and tried to establish links with travel from South Africa. Leaked minutes from a sage meeting revealed fears of rising infections before the booster programme was fully implemented. Andrew Hayward advised going to Plan B rather than having to endure more severe measures later on. Goblin Saj urged festive partygoers to get an LTF before revelling. Deputy CE of NHS Providers Saffron Cordery said some organisations had asked staff ‘not to mix in big groups’. Daily Mirror reported there were 2 parties at Number 10 in the run-up to Christmas 2020 against lockdown rules. Quizzed at PMQs, Boris didn’t deny they took place but said no rules were broken. Keir spluttered: “Both of those things can’t be true, prime minister. He is taking the British public for fools.” Ian Blackford added: “How are people possibly expected to trust the PM when he thinks it’s one rule for him and one rule for everybody else.” Boris retorted he was “talking total nonsense”. LFTs no longer sufficient, holiday-makers heading to Spain now had to show vaccine passes.
Snog, Attend, Avoid
Haiga – Beady Eye
Both ailing on Thursday, I managed a few exercises, skipping ones that hurt my arm and took Echinacea, with no idea if it would do any good. Checking the NHS website for booster side-effects, ours were all normal apart from Phil’s mouth tasting of rusty nails. They suggested he might actually have covid. It soon became apparent he didn’t. I braved the cold to open the window and shake blankets out before changing sheets. I then worked on the laptop until I felt very ropey with a raised temperature. During a longer siesta than usual, I had a ½ hour with my eyes shut and struggled to rise. After dinner, the symptoms felt decidedly flu-like. Unable to keep my head up, I went to bed to watch a crap telly film.
At 53,945, UK daily cases were the highest for 4 months. 73,000 new infections in Germany, the unvaccinated were banned from public places such as non-essential shops. JVCI bod Prof Finn awaited approval from MHRA on jabs for 5-12 year olds. Dr. Albert Bourla of Pfizer said it was a good idea. Well, he would, wouldn’t he? On top of 35m extra doses of Pfizer, 60m Novavax and 7.5m GSK/Sanofi, government ordered another 114 m doses of Pfizer and Moderna in preparation for annual jabs during the next 2 years. Contracts allowed modification to tackle new mutants. 79% effective against serious illness, GSK’s anti-viral drug Sotrovimb was approved for use on the obese and diabetics over 60. Therese Coffee-cup advised against ‘snogging under the mistletoe’ and George Freeman suggested we keep Christmas parties small. Downing Street responded that wasn’t in the guidance. Anger mounted at reports Micron called Boris a clown and a knucklehead. They wouldn’t be snogging under the mistletoe, then! On Newscast, Sadiq Kahn defended the trad fir tree gift from Norway against complaints of scrawniness. He wouldn’t have ‘a word said against it’. Meanwhile, the Tesco Covid Pass Santa ad was deemed okay.
Phil still struggling Friday, my flu-like symptoms had gone apart from a snuffle. The jabbed arm less sore, I did exercise and went to the co-op. Gaps in the chiller sections persisted after the power cut but I found what we needed before Phil caught me up at the till to help with carrying. During lunch, I knocked a glassful of water all over the small coffee table and dug out a Christmas-themed lampshade cover to replace the one that got wet. While Phil cut his hair, I fruitlessly searched the internet for gifts.
After the BMA encouraged people to ‘avoid large groups’ and Prof Openshaw said he wouldn’t feel comfortable going to Christmas parties, labour cancelled theirs but tories didn’t. Oliver Dowdy advised: ‘keep calm and carry on’. So, you had to wear a mask travelling in a bus or taxi to a party, but you could snog a complete stranger under the mistletoe when you got there!
A South African study showed reinfection with Omicron was possible but weren’t sure if that was the case among a heavily-vaccinated population. CovBoost found that the body’s T cell immune response after a booster could offer good protection from hospitalisation and death although it wasn’t yet tested on Omicron. Moderna came out top. Obviously that Spikevax! Homes still without power a week after Storm Arwen, the army were sent to help households in North East Scotland and County Durham and Ofgem launched an urgent review into the response of power suppliers. From the metro news quiz, we learnt young female Afghan footballers rescued by Kim Kardashian, practiced at Elland Road. “I won’t have a word said against her now,” declared Phil. “Yes, she’s not completely useless!”
Dark, cold and wet with wintry showers Saturday, I stayed in, finished the Christmas card and sorted the spice cupboard. I combined duplicates, expunged mystery bits, and told Phil which to buy from the shop. Town deserted for once, he found no fresh stuff and got another duplicate dried condiment instead. The first taste of German gingerbread took me right back to childhood and I moronically crooned: “It’s beginning to taste a bit like Christmas.”
Sunday drier and brighter, I rose early and waited impatiently for Phil to wake. The geese had recently taken to wandering onto the street below to peck at moss and eye the lovely grass of the flat’s garden. Thwarted by the gate, there was lots of squawking. Phil seemed amazed when they went down the steps. “Why not?” I asked, “they’re not daleks.” “They are a bit like daleks.” “Yes, Exterminate! Exterminate!” I put recycling out, swore at neighbours parked right outside the door, and went to town. People stuffing food in their gobs made the farmer’s market resemble a food court, but then the whole town was like that most weekends. Not heaving, the knobbly veg stall-holders said it was at 9.00 a.m. Go figure! The Winter Art Fair also quiet, arty mates agreed the lack of punters was weird. In the Art Mill, I chatted to Photography Friend and her partner. Verging on adulthood, she’d reluctantly let her son to go to a party in Huddersfield. Phil came to join us and we perused an exhibition. He was quite taken by techniques used on the expensive monochrome photos. On the way home, beady-eyed jackdaws coveted a pie being eaten on a riverside bench, inspiring a haigai. While the corner pub was deserted, the pavements on the main road were oddly crammed. Twilight glowing orange through the living room window, Phil called it ‘lambent light’. A new one on me, it sounded like a clever photographer’s term. I blamed the posh exhibition.
Omicron Death Star
86 new cases of Omicron in the UK, the 246 total were concentrated in London and Scotland where they were linked to a Steps concert. More travel restrictions required pre-departure tests for incoming travellers from Tuesday and Nigeria was added to the red list. They called it ‘travel apartheid’. The Observer depicted Omicron as a Death Star. Molnupiravir aka Lagevria, was approved for vulnerable people with severe symptoms to take at home.
On the Marr, South African scientist Willem Hanekom confirmed the mutant spread very fast, was now dominant, caused re-infection but milder illness, and mainly affected unvaccinated younger people. UK scientific adviser Mark Woolhouse said the travel rules were “shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted’. Willem agreed it was a waste of time and damaging to the South African economy. The Pope went to Lesbos to meet migrants and criticise Europe for indifference to the suffering of desperate people.
*the catchily re-named Department for Levelling Up, Housing and Communities
“This was the first test of ‘levelling up’ and the government has completely failed and let down everybody in the north” (Keir Starmer)
Hitting The Buffers
Haiga – Sitting Pretty
No way I could do anything Monday morning, I crawled back in bed. Frustrated at hitting the buffers again, I kept occupied posting blogs and writing, until the inevitable head fug set in. Phil’s crafty homemade bread looked hefty. Very tasty, it got eaten before becoming a Midsomer murders weapon! After dinner, we watched part of the World Cup qualifier. England slaughtered San Marino 10-0 in a ridiculous match. Why were the tiny team even in the running?
16-17 year olds to get a second dose, Goblin Saj said he’d take advice on boosters for the under 40’s. Boris repeated “storm clouds were gathering over Europe” and Oliver Dowdy said it was up to us to prevent a lockdown Christmas. But festive dinners were back on the menu as thousands of foreign workers were recruited. Only half the available visas taken up before the deadline, it was judged enough to kill turkeys. Labour called for publication of papers on Owen Paterson’s advocacy for Randox and details of government contracts awarded. They also planned to investigate time spent on second jobs and force a vote to ban MPs from paid consultancies or directorships. Boris later copied them. Keir hailed it as a victory. A PM spokesman called Belarus forcing a migrant crisis and trying to undermine the EU ‘abhorrent’ and vowed to hold the Lukashenko regime accountable. After a taxi exploded outside Liverpool women’s hospital Sunday, cobra raised the terror threat level to severe. The passenger asked to be driven to the hospital just before 11 a.m., when remembrance services took place. Later named as Emad Al Swealmeen, he blew himself up. Driver David Perry escaped uninjured. Anti-terror officers questioned 4 people and conducted forensic searches. It emerged the bomb contained ball bearings which could have inflicted serious injury.
I slept deeply well into Tuesday morning until roused by Phil. “Is it late?” “Yes. Shall I open the budgie curtains?” “No, I can do it. You shouldn’t really wake me when I’m ill. “Sorry; just making sure you’re alright.” Less fatigued but sneezy, I worked on the journal all morning. While Phil went to the co-op, I took washing out the of machine, struggled taking the basket upstairs and collapsed on the bed to read the nature trail booklet I got in the charity shop last week, when the phone rang. A very nice Dr. Jekyll arranged for a self-test kit to be left at the surgery reception for me. Quiet time wasn’t quiet at all as the chainsaws predictably started up at dusk. It was also a struggle to sleep at night-time.
ONS reported 995 deaths w/e 5th November, the highest since w/e 12th March. Jeremy Vine said 94% of Singaporeans were vaccinated and estimated 5 million refuseniks in the UK. Where did he get that from? The Tesco Christmas ad garnered 3,000 complaints as Santa brandished a Covid Pass. Politico revealed 47 companies got PPE contracts via the ‘VIP lane’ as recommendations from ministers and top civil servants were seen as ‘more credible’. Russia blew up a satellite, ISS astronauts had to shelter and the USA said they were weaponising space. Unemployment down to 4.3%, employment and vacancies were up. How come? Were they made up jobs? The Nord Stream 2 Pipeline was held up by a need to be registered as a German company. Recalling Phil’s experience of trying to navigate their complicated system, I exclaimed: “Mein got! Good luck with that!” Phil chuckled: “You must go to the post office in Stuttgart…”
The Great Train Robbery
The Great Train Robbery
Forced up after hardly any sleep Wednesday, I felt really crap. Phil half asleep, I fetched brekkie from a freezing kitchen, got back in bed, wrote ‘Autumn Medley’ for Cool Placesi and watched PMQs.
The tory MPs who bothered to turn up, appeared in masks. Keir asked had Boris broken his promise on Crossrail for the North? Boris replied: ‘wait and see’, as the IRP* signalled ‘the biggest programme of investment in rail for a century’ and levelling up across the UK. Turning to another broken promise, Keir asked the PM to confirm scrapping the eastern leg of HS2. Boris blathered that northern people would benefit massively. Keir noted he’d still not said yes. Going onto Owen Paterson, he advised the PM to do the decent thing and say sorry for giving the green light to corruption. Boris reiterated the need for a cross-party approach to ensure nobody exploited their position and asked Kier how he earned money from law firm Mishcon de Reya before becoming leader. Lindsay Hoyle admonished, it was for him to answer, not ask questions. Keir called him “a coward, not a leader.” Spending weeks defending sleaze, “waving one white flag won’t be enough to restore trust.” (he subsequently retracted ‘coward’ as unparliamentary language). Boris went on about working together, addressing the appeals process and accused Keir of trying to prosecute others for actions he’d taken himself. Hoyle waded in again: “We play by the rules, don’t we?” and Keir added: “Upholding standards didn’t last long…when someone in my party breaks the rules, I kick them out. He tries to get them off the hook.” A full independent investigation was the only way to get to the bottom of how Paterson helped Randox get £600 million in contracts. Boris later told the commons liaison committee it was a mistake to try to save Paterson and suggested he was misled by colleagues.
Unable to get to shops, I placed an Ocado order, adding some Christmas stuff, and bought a couple of things from evil Amazon. The café owner texted asking Phil to take his pictures down. “Maybe you’re not the best artist in town after all!” I jibed. Actually, it was to make space for tinsel. He also received an invite for a booster. Where was mine? Had it failed to come because my phone was updating all day? I looked on the NHS central system but the local health centre not an option, I left it.
Due to energy, fuel, food and hospitality costs, inflation reached 2% in October, twice the BOE target and the highest in a decade. Lidl to increase wages by 6% from March, they’d be the best-paying supermarket. BBC news went to Belfast where Lord Frosty Gammon was after an agreement to alter the protocol. If that wasn’t possible, he’d use article 16 to suspend the parts he didn’t like. Acknowledging difficulties, the EU had already come up with a ‘reasonable package’ but Frosty wanted more radical change. Nasty Patel said a ‘dysfunctional asylum system’ allowed the likes of Al Swealmeen to remain and carry out terror attacks. That’s your fault! As Thangam Debonnaire pointed out, tories had been in charge for 11 years!
Still crap Thursday, I became exhausted after bathing, changing sheets and fetching coffee and dossed in bed before working on the takeover blog for The Researcher. It looked better than I remembered since leaving it when overtaken by life events last month. Phi went to the co-op and noticed the front door had been washed. From the landing window I saw the window cleaner’s van and advised Phil to be ready for the knock. He went to the kitchen but sure enough, the window cleaner rapped on the door. I shouted down, to be answered by the window cleaner. Eventually Phil heard me, paid and went back to making lunch. Getting afternoon coffee, I noted Phil had scrubbed the washing up bowl to blinding effect.
Saj promised the NHS Federation they’d get what they needed. The Environment Agency were investigating 2,000 sewage treatment works with findings possibly leading to prosecution and fines. Shats announced the IRP aka The Great Train Robbery. As expected, he scrapped HS2 to Leeds and Northern Powerhouse Rail (NPR). Instead, there’d be £96bn to upgrade the East Coast mainline and improve existing track (£42bn of which was already committed to HS2 between London and Birmingham). Tracy Brabin at Leeds station said it wasn’t what was promised. Anger from the Northern Research Group and in the commons, Keir said Boris had ripped up promises and failed the north: “You can’t believe a word the PM says.” Idiotically dressed up in orange at a Network Rail logistics hub near Selby, Boris retorted that was ‘total rubbish’: “Those extra high-speed lines take decades, and they don’t deliver the commuter benefits…we will eventually do them.” Money for Leeds super-tram was confirmed and Khan asked for another £1.9 bn for TfL.
On Question Time, Stephen Flynn, SNP labelled the debacle just another broken promise to add to a long list: ‘just look at the record’. Tory Mims Davies insisted they’d been honest. Stella Creasey guffawed, her own backbenchers were red-faced with shame. Creasey criticised Nasty Patel’s’ divisive immigration language and said we didn’t know if those arriving on boats were ‘illegal’. As 125,000 asylum-seekers awaited decisions, they always looked for someone else to blame. Mims asked Steve why Scotland didn’t take refugees. He snapped back, because they didn’t get any money to pay for it, adding the swell of refugees was our fault for warring in the Middle East and we had a duty to look after them. Discussing MPs second jobs, lawyer Nazi Afzal suggested they pick fruit and stack shelves. Good idea! I’d add clean toilets! A brainless Canadian psychologist said only 3% of the population were psychopathic and being corrupt was counter-productive. An audience member shouted: “why are the 3% in charge then?” creating much mirth.
Laura K interviewed Irish PM Micheal Martin for Newscast. He blamed all the problems on Brexit. The agreement signed in good faith, there weren’t ‘an abundance of checks’ at the border and the EU sincerely wanted to engage and get a solution; possible with goodwill on both sides. Previously saying it’d be ‘reckless’ to trigger article 16, he was encouraged by dialogue between Frosty and Maros Sefcovic and diplomatically pleaded: ‘don’t make it another nightmare Christmas!’
Backtracking
Yellow Trees
Very bright early Friday morning, I peeped through the curtains to view a bright dawn with blue sky and arty clouds, but the sun didn’t last long. Feeling slightly better but still fatigued, it took a while to come round. I worked on blogs and spotted a message saying the amazon package would arrive later. I told Phil not to answer the door. “Why? Is it a nutter?” It came when he was at the co-op, disturbing my quiet time. I stuck a hoodie to stand at the bottom of the stairs while a young man handed me the parcel. I faffed with packaging, hid the contents, lay back down again, then Phil returned, rousing me again. In the evening, we drank wine moderately, watched films and the first episode of the big new Prime release. We spent the first half hour of Wheel of Time laughing at hammy acting but it was suitable viewing after a few glasses.
Keir came on BBC Breakfast to complain the betrayal of the north proved ‘levelling up’ was just words. Re-announcing NPR 60 times, everything was a mess under this government. Holyrood was to crack down on mask-wearing while a plethora of measures continued to be implemented across Europe. Over 65,000 covid cases reported in a day, Germany banned communal working for those without antibodies and Belgians had to work at home 4 days a week. Upper Austria and Salzburg imposed lockdowns, followed Monday by the whole country for 20 days. Vaccinations would be compulsory from February. Chancellor Schallenberg called it ‘very painful’. Doctors welcomed the move. A demo against proposed mandatory vaccines and a ban on New Year fireworks turned into a riot in Rotterdam. Protestors threw rocks and fireworks and set cop cars on fire. Seven were injured including at least 2 shot by police. The Czechia and Slovakia locked down the unvaccinated. National news asked: was the UK on a different track? 1:65 infected, the trend was down on the previous week. Lukashenko admitted troops were helping migrants to the Polish border and refused to stop the flow. He didn’t give a shit! New culture sec Nads Doris said social media was hijacked by left-wing snowflakes.
I’d hoped to be better by the weekend but alas, I not much. After a mediocre night, I failed to lie in Saturday. Really bright again, the first frost of the season amplified brilliant sunlight. I went down for brekkie then returned to bed and worked on the laptop until head fug set in.
Breakfast a palaver Sunday, I got stressed, and a series of niggles led to harsh words and foul moods. When Phil asked if I wanted to go for a walk, I yelled “I’m not well!” and stomped off back to bed. Upset and fed up still being stuck indoors, I wanted to simultaneously cry and scream but forced myself to write. He came to make amends, apologised for rowing and managed to make me laugh. He then stood at the foot of the bed in distracting fashion. I told him to go out. I read the winter issue of Valley Life Magazine, took photos through the window of yellow trees across the valley, wrote a haiga using a photo of a late hawkweedii, and worked on the Christmas card. Bad feelings gradually waned but I was still depressed. Phil went in search of inspiration and came back with bargain mincemeat. The town centre was rammed of course, as I’d guessed from parked cars snaking up the road opposite. Loads of Christmas markets cancelled, I joked: “That’s because they’re all here!” Phil agreed: “It’s already like one out there!”
Boris caught mask-less on trains again, Mick Lynch of RMT said he sent ‘all the wrong signals’. Riots in Brussels, Vienna and across Holland led to injuries, 3 bullet wounds and 51 arrests in Rotterdam. WHO worried about the situation in Europe. Prof Pollard told Marr it was unlikely we’d see the same sharp rise as UK rates had been climbing since summer and boosters would reduce transmission. But as people in poorer countries still weren’t vaccinated, it remained a ‘major global public health problem’. Goblin Saj spouted a load of numbers, including claims protection increased from 50-90% with boosters; the key to us not going the way of Europe. Extended to 40-49 year olds in the coming week, I still didn’t have my invite. Maros Sefcovic said the EU was trying to help curb spiralling infections by encouraging vaccine take-up and thought hesitancy was caused by problems at the start of year, followed by a better picture in summer, leading to a sense of complacency. On Brexit, he felt some progress was made but not on process. While implying urgency, Lord Frosty made no counter-proposals to the ones from the EU in June.
Tesla drivers were locked out of their own cars and as the wheels came off Manchester United, Phil laughed at yet another heavy defeat. A sacked Ole Gunnar Solskjaer gave the ‘we’ve let ourselves down’ speech.
“The Thatcher years might have been a spiffing time for Johnson, who was busy partying in the elite Bullingdon Club, but in the real world Thatcher devastated communities across Scotland” (Owen Thompson)
A Load of Hot Air
Haiga – Palimpsest
Following a bad night, I felt exhausted Monday morning and got back in bed. As my last bout of debilitation over a month ago lasted less than 3 days, I hoped this one would be similar. Alas, it dragged on for over a week leading to deepening depression. Phil tried to cheer me up with funny dancing. However, as my eyes wouldn’t focus, they made me dizzy. He carried the breakfast tray down and returned for the washing. I bathed, donned a sarong and teetered downstairs for coffee and the laptop. Internet issues now into the third week, I managed to post a haiga but doing the journal was impossible. Going back down for lunch, I noticed the machine was on a drying cycle. Fearing for our smalls, Phil frantically pressed buttons until it stopped. Still struggling with unfocused eyes and head fug, I tried to motivate myself to write or do art but didn’t feel like doing anything at all. Very unlike me, even when ill, the mere thought of computer work made me feel sick. I watched an awful telly film and lay down to read. Eyes shutting, I hoped to catch up on some sleep. Sadly not, although I lay with closed eyes for half an hour which slightly helped my vision.
The TIT app was tweaked to only ping if contact had been within 2 days rather than 5. Changes didn’t affect sensitivity or risk threshold. A month-long study by Imperial College reassuringly found no covid on the train network. To encourage vaccine uptake, young people were bribed with taxi rides and kebabs from the likes of Uber and Deliveroo. Kebab-a-Jab was one of a range of schemes across the globe – rollmops in the Netherlands, sausages in Germany, mici in Romania*, popcorn in Australia, a chicken in Indonesia, a lottery to win a gold bar in Hong Kong, and a joint in Washington state (assumingly on top of the $100).
Initially refreshed after more sleep Tuesday, I wobbled on rising and got back in bed. Phil offered to get the mid-morning coffee then disappeared. He then embarked on an arty project which made a nice change from the mind-numbing monotony of his gig economy job. Pissed off missing a sunny day, I opened the window and worked on the laptop. Someone was only just asking the local Facebook group if there were issues with the internet. It beggared belief they’d sit there for 3 weeks without contacting their ISP! I suggested everyone affected lodged complaints to speed up repairs at the exchange. A couple of members responded they had, including a friend, making Phil feel less alone. Early evening, emergency vehicles sped up the hill opposite as helicopters wheeled over the valley. It transpired there were reports of a hot air balloon crashing and bursting into flames. It turned out to be a party balloon. Was the string on fire?
Cases dropping to around 22,000 a day as opposed to the predicted 100,000, Christina Pagel wanted to know why. Mike Tildesley put it down to people being cautious. Prof. Paul Hunter said hospital cases were ‘over the peak’ but 138 deaths was the most since 17th March. An Imperial College React study found 2 jabs cut the chances of catching covid to 3.8%. JCVI now said the risk of myocardia was low and in balancing that against the benefits, offered 16-17 year olds a single jab as soon as practical, with possible roll- out to 12-15 year olds later. Peter Kyle complained they’d squandered the summer.
The ‘Key to NYC’ pass for indoor activities would launch 17th August, to be fully implemented by 13th September. 3 cases identified, all Wuhan citizens were tested for the Delta variant and a slight fall in Indian cases led to some opening up in Mumbai and Maharashtra. Iran suspected of a drone attack on oil tanker Mercer Street killing a Brit and a Rumanian last week, Rabid Raab summoned the ambassador. In a second incident, 9 armed men boarded the Asphalt Princess in the Gulf of Oman and ordered it to sail to Iran.
Seeing Red
The Flying Farage
Although very sleepy, I needed the meditation soundtrack to settle Tuesday night. I then woke several times in the early hours and subsequently dawdled over morning tea and bathing Wednesday morning. I tidied the bed, fetched coffee and worked on the laptop. Speedily backing up photos on OneDrive, I wondered if the internet was fixed. Phil in Leeds, I had no way of checking. I hoped he’d be back in time to enjoy his favourite quick pasta dish with me but he wasn’t. Sun replaced by cloud and occasional showers, he appeared slightly damp.
Ahead of changes to traffic lights, rumours of an ‘amber watchlist’ caused consternation and were later ditched. Amidst a cabinet fallout, Shatts was blamed. Which? reported on tour companies with the best and worst covid policies and encouraged sun-seekers to check the FCO list as well as the lights; were there discrepancies? A GoFundMe page aimed to purchase the RNLI a hovercraft dubbed The Flying Farage. If the target was exceeded, they planned to buy another vessel named Katie Hopkins or Darren Grimes (whoever he was). Drugs deaths up 3.8% in England and Wales and 4.8% in Scotland during 2020, Eytan Alexander of the UK Addiction Treatment Group called it a ‘parallel pandemic’ that had ‘worsened due to the virus’. Ministers denied cuts were to blame, saying they were investing £148m to tackle drug misuse. Belarus opposition leader Svetlana Tiskhavounskya met The Bumbler at Number 10 asking for more support against the despot Lukashenko, after an activist was found hanged in a Kyiv park and Olympian Krystina Tsimanskaya defected. Poland rescued the athlete at Tokyo airport. Meanwhile, the first trans woman to compete failed to win the weightlifting, belying claims of unfair advantage. 13 year old Sky Brown skateboarded to bronze. Already on TV ads, she didn’t say “I don’t feel like it today.” There’d been a lot of that during Shonkyo including Simone Biles withdrawing from team events and Adam Peaty declaring he needed a break.
Awoken by diggers on the canal Thursday morning, I gave up trying to sleep, managed a few small chores and got back into bed to catch up on online ordering. Having confirmed the internet was finally fixed, Phil received a belated call from Talk-Talk to that effect. Dinner taking too long to cook, I collapsed on the sofa to watch Netflix for the first time in ages but retired early for another mediocre night.
PHE said vaccines averted 66,9000 hospital admissions but according to Amanda Pritchard, of 5,000 ‘seriously ill’ patients, a fifth were aged 18-34. She urged young people to ‘not delay’ sorting their jabs. Traffic light changes turned Mexico red requiring airborne travellers to come home within 2 days or pay increased quarantine hotel costs of £2,285. Germany, Norway, Romania, Austria, Latvia, Slovenia and Slovakia went green. Spain stayed amber with PCR tests advised before returning. Qatar, Bahrain and UAE moved to amber, as did India but not Pakistan. MPs Naz Shah and Yasmin Qureshi saw red at unclear criteria and the government rewarding countries that offered economic benefits to the UK. On GMB, Shats insisted the changes only happened every 3 weeks leading to more stability, and were based on various factors and advice from the joint Biosecurity Centre. Was that the same JBC whose boss resigned over the ‘watchlist’ debacle?
90,000 EU citizens left UK hospitality jobs due to Brexit and covid as a new daily record of 482 people crossing The Channel made a total so far of 10,000 in 2021. Meanwhile, almost 60,000 arrived in Europe with 1,016 dead or missing. Steve Valdez-Symonds of Amnesty International UK said: “the reason people are putting themselves in serious danger…is that there are simply no safe alternatives open to them.” He urged French and UK governments to come together to fulfil their responsibilities: “On a global scale, very few people seek asylum in the UK and politicians need to stop peddling myths and stoking hostility towards often vulnerable people who’ve experienced persecution and trauma.” 11 people arrested over the racial abuse of Rashford, Sancho and Saka, the police promised more would follow. After wrecking rooms, the Shonkyo Australian rugby team raided drinks, threw up and ruined the bog on a JAL flight home.
Inferno
Park Psychedelia
Turning cold and rainy for the next few days, it seemed positively autumnal. Friday, I posted a psychedelic version of a photo of summery park blooms for Elder Sis’ birthday and the journal entry delayed from Monday, then backed up files but wished I hadn’t. Later copying notes over, I discovered a week’s journal work lost. I must have overwritten the wrong ones! On a brighter note, I booked a reasonably priced short break. Hitherto finding costs in my preferred choice destination astronomical, I considered Blackpool when I came across reference to a site we’d used some years back. Cottages in the last-minute bargain section were even cheaper when I plumped for later dates. Problems at the end of the verifying process led to an anxious 20 minutes hanging on the phone to speak to a person and be assured the booking had gone through. Dinner taking ages again, I got very tired and knocked a wine glass off the top. Sweeping up what fragments I could see on the kitchen floor, one scooted under the fridge. impossible to tell if I’d missed any small shards, I warned Phil not to walk about bare-footed until we’d hoovered.
ONS found a 39% drop in cases with infections down across the UK except Northern Ireland where they were the highest since 23rd January and the first 16-year-old got a Pfizer jab. In Australia, Victoria state started a week-long lockdown and NSW entered a seventh week after 5 deaths, one of whom was vaccinated. “They did it wrong. Not enough herd immunity.” Intoned Phil. Hypocrite minister and chair of COP26 Alok Sharma flew to 30 countries since February and didn’t isolate after trips to red-listed Bolivia and Brazil. David Lammy called the amount of travel ‘bizarre’. Munira Wilson said: “It seems incredible that this government never seems to learn the lesson; it simply cannot be one rule for them and one rule for everyone else.” Sharma also reportedly met Prince Charles indoors mask-less and visited a primary school. Fatty Soames’ Serco saw profits up 31%, thanks in part to 17% of the company’s contracts being covid related. BOE forecasted 4% inflation by the end of 2021 but expecting it to be temporary, left interest base rates at 0.1%. A 50% rise in wholesale energy led Ofgem to raise the cap on variable tariffs from 1st October.
In Scotland not visiting the first minister, Boris laughed that Thatcher gave us a ‘big early start’ on dealing with climate change by shutting coal mines. Sturgeon exclaimed his comment was ‘crass and deeply insensitive’ and SNP MP Owen Thompson observed they might have been spiffing for the PM, but in the real world, the Thatcher years devastated communities.
Thanks to moderate drinking, I wasn’t hungover Saturday morning but felt woefully unrested. Making the morning cuppa, I found a tiny spider in a mug. The poor thing went round and round in a circle. I stood on the doorstep, shook it onto the replanted rose, said ‘hello world’ and retreated back indoors. Realising it had probably hatched under the living room floorboards and dropped down to the kitchen on a string, I reflected there could be millions living there. Phil concurred, then spotted a larger spider brazenly sauntering across the bedroom floor. Another rescue ensued. Fed up of niggles interrupting my dossing, I thought I might as well have breakfast. Returning to bed, I replenished lost journal notes and used a colourful photo from Brighouse for a haigai. Phil cleaned the kitchen, disposing of glass shards, went to the shop and cooked dinner. I had a terrible night. The heavy rain initially soothing, I fell asleep briefly then woke to toss and turn until 4.15 a.m. Becoming anxious by the relentless downpour, I almost burst into tears before eventually getting a few hours aided by the meditation soundtrack.
Still wet Sunday morning, at least the rain wasn’t as bad. More than could be said of me. Phil asked “Are you better?” “No, I feel awful. I told you I hardly slept!” He stroked me comfortingly as though I were a kitten and suggested we go charity shopping Monday. “What for?” “I thought you wanted to.” “I never said that. It must’ve been a boring dream.” “Yep. That sounds about right.” Back upstairs, I soaked a shirt I’d managed to spill drink on and cleaned the bath before going back to bed to draft-post the journal. Despite assurances, I was still receiving e-mails telling me to complete the holiday cottage booking. I sent a message back and trusting all would be okay, researched things to do in the area. Phil cut his hair and emerged looking like arch-druid Veran from Britannia, minus the tattooed runes. He then made a variation of his signature austerity roast for dinner. While again needing sleep aids, it was a distinct improvement on the previous night.
Cases now falling except among 18-29 year olds, Heaven offered vaccines to nightclubbers leading to totals of 89% adults having one jab and 74% having two. In a short-term fix, Operation Rescript put army lorry drivers on 5 day notice to help out with the HGV shortage. A string of wildfires created an inferno across southern Europe. 21 British fire & rescue personnel were sent to Greece, 1,000 were evacuated from the island of Evia and a volunteer was killed. In Sardinia, a sheepdog died of burns after protecting his flock.
*Mici – a type of sausage which Phil said he’d prefer above all the other bribes
“There are hazards in everything one does, but there are greater hazards in doing nothing” (Shirley Williams)
Rishi Frit
Haiga – Psychedelic
Another tedious few days bedridden with severe fatigue coincided with the warmest and sunniest week of the year so far. Unable to contact friends or get out of the house, my mood plummeted. But I kept occupied writing until head fug took over, and managed small chores, with Phil’s help.
Kids back at school in all 4 UK nations, the second stage of the ‘waymark’ for England saw hairdressers, beer gardens (some since midnight), and non-essential shops (with extended hours up to 10 p.m.) re-opening as well as zoos, gyms and domestic self-catering. 2 designated visitors were allowed in care homes, and we could go to Wales but would find gyms and pubs shut. On the day that Shirley Williams, famous for splitting from labour as part of the gang of 4 died, an emergency toadying session in the commons fawned over the dead duke. The Bumbler forewent a pint to appear with a haircut. A record number of Covid cases and deaths marked a huge surge in India (177,150 fatalities – the second highest in the world). This didn’t deter people attending the Kumbh Mela festival on the Ganges or Boris from planning a trade mission. Nor did a new ‘variant of concern’. B1.617 bore 2 mutations on the spike protein possibly making vaccines less effective. 77 case were found in Britain. Duante Wright was the latest black person to be killed by US police, 10 miles from the trial of Chauvin in Minnesota. The trigger-happy cop, Kimberley Ann Potter, claimed it was ‘a mistake’; she’d meant to use her taser not her gun. How on earth could she get them mixed up?
As I settled down to sleep, it seemed very quiet for the first pub drinking day since December, when I heard a few people staggering back. Fortunately, they didn’t linger.
Unfortunately, canal engineering works started soon after 8 Tuesday. I tried to ignore the racket and though still very achy and tired, performed a few stretches then had to get back in bed and stayed there all day. Reading at night, I couldn’t keep my eyes open and fell asleep despite continuous droning outside only to wake a few minutes later, when it stopped.
The top 9 priority groups now all offered a jab, 94% of over 50’s and 92% of the clinically vulnerable had one. 45-49 year olds were invited next. The central booking website promptly crashed. Somewhat mitigating the predicted shortage, the Moderna vaccine was rolled out but approval for Janssen was delayed over blood clot concerns. While revellers swarmed in Soho and an 82 year old woman got fined for partying, Boris said immunisation did a great job although coming out of lockdown would inevitably mean more deaths. Universities were told they couldn’t re-start face-to-face teaching until the next waymark of 17th May; 6 weeks before the end of the academic year – what a waste of time! Sturgeon confirmed freedom to travel and some outdoor mixing for Scotland from Friday. As it emerged the former head of procurement Bill Crothers became a Greensill adviser while still a senior civil servant, Rishi Rich sent junior minister Paul Scully to face the commons to predictably say it was all above board. Rishi was accused of being ‘frit’.
Fits and Starts
Shirley Carter, off Eastenders
Slightly improved Wednesday, I managed 10 minutes exercise and a few small chores. Energy sapped, I got back in bed to write and watch telly. The Bumbler’s’ hair already a mess 2 days since the barbers, PMQs was dominated by the Camoron scandal. After former premier Gordon Brown said ex-PMs shouldn’t lobby for commercial organisations (at least for 5 years), labour called for a full review instead of the wishy-washy inquiry Boris had promised. Led by Nigel Boardman, the same lawyer who advised on loosening lobbying laws, Keir complained it wouldn’t even look at the rules and was indicative of cronyism: “(there is) a revolving door, indeed an open door, between the conservative government and paid lobbying…The Greensill scandal is just the tip of the iceberg…Dodgy contracts, privileged access, jobs for their mates, this is the return of tory sleaze…The more I listen…the more I think Ted Hastings and AC-12 is needed to get to the bottom of this one.” The Bumbler deflected with: “we’re getting on with rooting out bent coppers,” and went on about labour killing the police bill. The Speaker said he should at least answer the question on opposing the labour motion to widen the probe. He refused, but a plethora of enquiries were later announced.
It subsequently emerged Camoron had discussions with the head of NHSX for a Greensill contract to provide a dodgy app allowing access to patients’ personal details. And mainstream news eventually picked up on another cronyism story revealed by Guido Fawkes. Topwood Limited, in which The Cock owned 15% of shares and his sister Emily Gilruth and mum Shirley Carter (off Eastenders) happened to run, was on the framework for NHS contracts. They were contracted by NHS Wales to shred documents.
Referring to Boris asking the Supreme Court to see if Holyrood went beyond its powers by incorporating the UN convention on the Rights of the Child and the European Charter of local self-government into Scottish law, Ian Blackford had a fit over plans to take them to court over children’s rights.
So-called ‘quiet time’ severely hampered by noisy canal works and pissed off being stuck indoors during gorgeous weather, I cheered up with a laugh over people’s excitement at going out drinking and barbecuing. I suggested Phil go and “sizzle a sausage. Or better yet, nick one someone else has sizzled. You could be the barbecue bandit!”
The Kent Virus was found to spread more but not be more severe or lead to more long Covid. Prof Harnden of JCVI warned: “…we all want to enjoy ourselves again, but we must be cautious and do this slowly. Otherwise we’ll get back to square one.” The Oxford Vaccine Group started trials using different vaccines for first and second doses. Open to anyone over 50 who’d had a first jab and willing to travel to a regional site, Phil looked set to go until it transpired he’d have to go to Hull.
Too wobbly for exercise Thursday morning, I made a big effort to bathe and expunge dust from the bedroom before working on my novel for the first time in months. I did quite well until I had to stop with head fug. Depression deepening at missing the sunshine, I consoled myself that at least I wasn’t mingling with face-lickers in beer gardens!
As SA surge testing started in the London areas of Lambeth, Wandsworth, Southwark and Finchley, Gethin Jones isolated at home and appeared via zoom on Morning Live from a very nice kitchen. With 4000,000 Covid victims hospitalised last year, the NHS waiting list stood at 4.7m but 2m had been treated during the ‘winter wave’. DHSC consulted on mandatory vaccines for elderly care home staff, while the EHRC said Covid Passes had the “potential for discrimination, or for infringement of civil liberties…and the creation of a 2 tier society whereby only certain groups are able to fully enjoy their rights.”
Sweden had the second highest infection rate in Europe but lower death rates (1.7 compared to the Euro average of 4.3 per day). Citing the vaccine barrier, I reflected hardly any Europeans had had one. Carolyn Harris brought forward a bill to force an MP vote on the NHS 1% wage rise and Lord Frost went to Brussels to talk about NI border checks – I wished them both lots of luck!
The QT panel were asked ‘should lobbying be illegal?’ Labour MP Rosie Duffield said it had its uses, Bernard Jenkins didn’t defend fellow tories, saying later in the week the scandal risked dismantling the ‘blue wall’. An erstwhile civil servant in the audience reminded us of The Nolan Committee’s Standards in Public Life. In her day, she was scared to have a cuppa and a biscuit when visiting companies. Now, businessmen who didn’t understand the culture were parachuted in. In any other profession, they’d be sacked. Self-styled right-wing comedian Geoff Norcott admitted he ‘held his nose’ when voting conservative. So why did you, I asked on twitter, to no reply. It was time he split from his misguided working class tory mates!
Awful droning (which I decided was a generator) presaged another terrible night. Trying various distraction techniques, I eventually dropped into a fitful sleep with an earplug in one ear and the meditation soundtrack in the other.
Hissy Fits
Pathetic Barriers
Feeling dreadful after hardly any kip, I forced myself to rouse Friday morning and removed the earplug when the horrendous noise started up again! My head set to split, I burst into tears: “I can’t stand it anymore! I’m hardly getting any sleep with that that din. It’s ruining my life!” At a loss what to do, Phil suggested a cuppa would help. “Yes, it might!” I retorted more sharply than necessary and hid under the covers. More fatigued and depressed than ever, I made a big effort to get washed and half-dressed before picking up the laptop. Despite the racket, we opened the bedroom window to let the fresh spring air in.
7 reviews into the Camoron affair imminent, I googled news sites, becoming confused at their similar remits.*
Venturing downstairs for lunch, Phil gave me a big hug and advised I sit out in the sun. “I can’t face having to interact with anybody. If we had a private garden, I would.” I stayed in the living room awhile then went back up, cleaned the bathroom and collapsed on the bed with exhaustion while he went to the co-op. Having ceased earlier in the afternoon, the loud works recommenced as my head hit the pillow. During evening telly, we guffawed at an ad where a woman appeared to jump on piles of landfill. “If we set up a website called landfill.com, would people still buy plastic crap they didn’t need?” “Yes! “Let’s do it”
With 1.6m cases per week, the WHO said there’d been 1m Covid deaths in Europe, but were cut by 30% among the over 80’s because of vaccines. The R rate down to 0.7-1, the ONS estimated the virus affected 1:480 people in England; the lowest since September. It decreased even more in the other 3 UK nations.
I fell asleep quickly that night only to wake a couple of hours later, assailed by various disturbances. To top it all, the engineering works kicked off at 8 o’clock Saturday morning I tossed and turned with both ears plugged but it was useless. Two nights of hardly any sleep did nothing to improve my fatigue or mood. Sunny and warm again, by the time we’d bathed and breakfasted half the day was gone. Phil declared he was going out. Knowing I’d be even more depressed indoors on my own, I strove to make myself presentable and headed out with him. A flimsy barrier topped with flowers outside the flats – presumably a sop by the developers to the unrelenting hissy fits of the local action group – looked pathetic.
Grave Stones
We took the picturesque route to the small clough to find makeshift firepits in new clearings, delicate flowers and fungi in various states of decay, providing inspiration for my weekly haiga.i A woman sat on a bench reading. Chatting as we past, I suddenly realised we were disturbing the peace and shut up for a while. Tiny fish shone in the low waters. Birds flitted in treetops and dipped in the waterfall. A small heap of stones seemingly marked the grave of a small animal (a beloved pet or a wood dweller?) A small patch of wild garlic exuded pungency. “I’ll just pick a bit for tonight’s curry.” “You sound like a right Guardianista!” Phil giggled.
The change of scenery prompted us to reflect on the state of things. Less anxious a month after our first jabs, I wanted assurance on the reduced risk of severe Covid. Phil explained the maths. I couldn’t follow it all but got the gist. Nevertheless, as we walked home, the sight of swarms on the opposite side of the old bridge made me glad we’d avoided the town centre. Seating sprawled from a new cocktail bar along the pedestrianised street to accommodate drinking hordes. Far too busy for my liking!
Expecting respite that night, the generator kicked in at 2.30 a.m. With the help of earplugs and because I was dead tired, I slept regardless. Sunday morning, buzzing of a different kind emanated from behind the bedroom curtains. Unable to see what it was, I kept them drawn. Phil investigated to find a bee. Of course, it obediently went outside straight away due to his ‘bee whispering’ skills! Useless George appeared on the Marr to defend Camoron. Politics North provided details on the powers of the West Yorks metro mayor whom we’d be voting for in May. “It could be quite good as long as they’re not from Leeds and forget about the rest of the county. There’ll be stiff e-mails about local buses!” I predicted.
Unsure what to do on a bright but hazy day, I opted for DIY. The paint I applied a year ago to a bathroom storage cube was already flaking off and I decided to top it with tiles. It took an hour to rummage in the coal hole for the materials and equipment, strip the flaky paint and resurrect solidified tile adhesive, before the fun bit of sticking the tiles on which took 5 minutes. Phil went to town for baccy and returned with yet another camera from the charity shop. Back in time to help mix the adhesive, I shooed him away from usurping my project to play music. Cleaning up afterwards took almost as long as the prep. Feeling grimy I went up early for a bath. Phil came up after watching footie with news of a Euro super league, set to become a big story over the next few days.
Crowded pubs over the weekend incredulously led to debate on whether youngsters should be offered jabs in preference to older folk. Reportedly only 23% of hospitality was open, as eateries struggled with outside seating, even though councils allowed tables to straddle pavements and even streets. Witnessed in our small town, Leeds and Soho took it to ludicrous levels, judging by media images. As Oxford university were starting a second ‘human challenge’ trial on young people, I suggested they could just send them to the pub! The Events Research Programme (ERP) trialled spectators at the boring snooker and FA cup semi-finals. In France, only 1.25% of cops and teachers took up the offer of an AZ vaccine. A centre planned to be open all weekend, shut 1 p.m. Saturday due to lack of takers. Macron was blamed for his irresponsible comments and urged to launch a publicity campaign to boost take-up.
Settling down that night, the droning recommenced. Even the earplugs and meditation soundtrack combo failed to block it out allowing only a few fractious hours’ sleep.
*The 7 reviews and inquiries sparked by the Camoron lobbying scandal, as far as I could tell:
Boardman inquiry- so-called independent inquiry into the role of Lex Greensill as an adviser, use of supply chain finance and lobbying efforts of Greensill. May also investigate how Bill Crothers could work for Greensill while still a civil servant
Treasury Select Committee – ‘on the regulatory lessons from the failure of Greensill Capital and the appropriateness of HM Treasury’s response to lobbying …’
-Public Admin and Constitutional Affairs Committee (PACAQ) – into ‘the topical matters around Greensill’. A focus on lobbying regulations and civil service rules. Dubbed ‘The AC-12 of Whitehall’
Public Accounts Committee – into supply chain financing and how Covid loans were offered to companies
Committee on Standards in Public Life – into the ‘the institutions, procedures and policies in place to uphold high standards of conduct’. Likely to propose policy changes
Cabinet Office review of the Lobbying Act
Simon Case double jobs review – all senior civil servants to declare outside jobs/roles that may conflict with their work.
“In the event that I am reincarnated, I would like to return as a deadly virus, to contribute to solving overpopulation” (Prince Philip)
Barking Mad
Haiga – Pastorale i
Patches of white lay atop roofs on a sunny Easter Monday. Phil slept in while I exercised and did free puzzles in Metro. After a late breakfast of toasted hot cross buns, I posted blogs, just finishing as the skies turned changeable. Itching to go out, we debated whether to visit town for a burnt snack and the virtual duck race, thought better of it and agreed to escape ‘up tops’ instead. Things became a bit fraught as we prepared to leave the house, and I feared we’d miss the next bus. I needn’t have worried. Although it had sounded quieter than the previous 2 insanely busy days, cars streamed on the main road. A traffic jam stretched to bridge. “That’s people not going to the virtual duck race,” I quipped.
Predictably late as a consequence, a few other passengers rode the bus, all alighting in the first village. We got off at the junction of a country lane where adorable spring lambs eyed us curiously from patchwork fields as we passed. At the farm shop, only one customer was allowed in at a time. I waited to buy pop and we stood in a patch of sun, well away from a couple drinking beer and a picnicking family. A large sow snuffled at straw inside the barn behind us. Manic squealing ensued as a litter of piglets clambered and tugged at each other to feed. Mindful of social distancing, we in turn jockeyed for position with small children and a pair of women also peered over the metal gate to witness the spectacle.
Walking down to the clough, we were chased by dogs where the path crossed farmland. I yelled at the woman who’d appeared near the farmhouse: “It’s not on! This is a public right of way!” Shaken by the encounter, we got off their land as quickly as possible. In the clough, straggling family groups and elderly men impeded our progress to the garlic fields for the second forage of the season.
Proceeding home via the bridleway, a horse rider thanked us for standing on the verge for her to pass. A woman accompanied by 2 kids and 2 spaniels walked the opposite way. “Oh no, it’s the stupidest, craziest of all dog breeds,” Phil tittered. One of the dogs broke from the group and bounded towards us.
Braced for another stressful experience, it veered off the path, apparently chasing a deer. I suggested to the woman she put her dogs on leads. “What?” “You need to put your dogs on leads. There are deer here.” “I live here!” she responded. “Your dog just chased a deer!” “Ooh, scary!” she laughed. Angered by the incident and by inconsiderate dog-owners in general, I asked Phil: “I live here? What the hell does that mean?“ “That she owns the place? “Well, she should care more about the bloody wildlife then, shouldn’t she. Cold-hearted bitch!” Recalling the horse rider, I considered it barking mad that dogs didn’t have to be kept on leads on a bridleway. However, owners were required to control them so they didn’t intimidate animals, or people for that matter, on any public right of way. (for a fuller description of the walk, see Cool Placesii).
In the evening, our walking friend texted to ask if we fancied going to another garlic spot the next day. Although we’d just got a pile, I was always up for a new harvesting place and said yes. At bedtime, I was troubled by recurring thoughts of encounters with dogs and the drone of railway engineering works. Hard to sleep, I tried earplugs, then the meditation tape, then the noise suddenly stopped enabling a few fitful hours.
Covid cases dropped 44% and hospitalisations by a quarter in the past week. The Boris Briefing confirmed the next step (or ‘waymark’) on the roadmap would proceed next week. Hairdressers, beer gardens and shops could re-open, with extended hours up to 10 p.m. but social distancing still in place. Covid Status Certification set to be trialled, The Bumbler promised we wouldn’t need them for “the shops, pub garden or hairdressers on Monday.” He stopped short of saying they wouldn’t be required inside pubs in May. 70 MPs set to vote against the Covid Passes, including 40 tories, Rachel Reeves said Labour didn’t see the point with the success of the vaccine programme. Boris made no pledges on travel but confirmed a traffic lights system with more details due later in the week. From Friday, everyone could have 2 tests per week. While we wondered what the point was and where the cash was going, the government said it would be paid for out of the existing TIT budget. So was it a ruse to justify Dildo’s existence? Allyson Pollock of Newcastle University called it a “scandalous waste of money” and warned that as cases fell, false-positives would rise and people forced to needlessly self-isolate.
Egged On
Floral Splendour
After a freezing night, Tuesday also started sunny and cold with a sprinkling of white. Chores done, we planned an early lunch before meeting our walking friend. Suddenly, small snowflakes started to fall. I rang her to say there was no chance of going garlic-picking and parried her efforts to persuade me otherwise. “I knew something like this would happen,” she said, “I thought one flake of snow, and Mary will cry off.” “And I knew you’d try and talk me into it!” We had a laugh and nattered about her new semi-retired life, antibodies, vaccines, and meeting up soon. As a mixture of wintry showers plagued the afternoon, the temperature plummeted. Glad I’d stood firm, it also gave me chance to catch up on editing photos and writing. The din of night-time engineering was replaced by caterwauling on the street below. Thankfully, it didn’t interfere with sleep as much.
As the blood clot issue re-surfaced, Boris went to the AZ* plant in Macclesfield to be quizzed on concerns the vaccine caused CVT*. He directed us to the MHRA* where studies were ongoing but trials on youngsters were halted. He insisted there was ‘no data’ to suggest deviating from the roadmap out of lockdown while SPI-M* warned of a rise at the final stage in June. The Cock claimed Valneva produced a ‘strong immune response’ although this was only based on a study of 153 people. Cases in Chile rose even though 37% of the population had at least 1 dose of Sinovax. Reportedly due to complacency, travel in or out of the country was banned for a month. Concerns over the Chinese vaccine would emerge later in the week. Australia and NZ* agreed to allow travel between the two without quarantine. Here, Border Force claimed 40% of 40,000 fliers into the UK* and 90% of travellers on Eurostar were tourists. The government denied it. Airline bosses moaned that holidays would ‘costa packet’, with up to 6 PCR* tests required (lab analysis making them better at detecting variants than rapid flow tests). Irene Hays appeared on BBC Breakfast to laud ‘sea-cations’ (aka Brexit cruises). The latest Yorkshire fire entailed a recycling pile in Doncaster – what was it with daft fires in this county?
A similar picture Wednesday, I hoovered, wrote and went to the co-op for a hefty top-up shop. School holidays still on, hordes hithered and dithered in the aisles. Obviously too cold for coffee-cupping today! Already stressed, I swore at a young man behind me at the till who didn’t wait for me to move before slamming a box of beer down on the conveyor belt. I rushed to the end where the cashier asked me if I was alright. “Some people just don’t give a shit,” I complained, to which she nodded. On exiting, I removed my face mask. My specs promptly fell on the pavement making me swear again. Hands full, I struggled to the zebra and glared at a speeding driver. He screeched to a halt. I paused at the corner to sort myself out when Geordie Neighbour approached. We walked and talked back to our street, about the weather and the discomfort of extreme walking. I mentioned the ace job his partner had done on the community garden and told him some of the history of the land; we’d collaborated with a couple of neighbours and councillors to rescue it from auction some years ago. Developing neck pain later, I cursed myself for using dam rucksacks when shopping. A massage and shifting into a more comfy position helped somewhat at bedtime.
The MHRA issued new guidance to not use AZ on those under 30. Though not confirmed it caused clots, Jenny Raine said the evidence was ‘firming up’. An estimated 6,000 lives saved and only 19 deaths out of 20 million vaccines given, The EMA* wanted the ‘very rare side effects’ listed on packs and people with blood disorders to consult their doctor. JCVI’s* Anthony Harnden assured us detection of the possible link showed the ‘yellow card’ system worked and it was no more risky than pregnancy, taking the contraceptive pill, or taking a long-haul flight. As the SNP* and Labour ruled out backing proposals on Covid Passes, Keir called messaging a mess: “only a few weeks ago the prime minister was saying he was thinking of vaccine passports to go to the pub – now he says isn’t. One day he’s talking about tests – then certificates. It’s a complete mess.” Ian Blackford added: “the tory position has been mired in confusion and contradiction.” CRG* deputy chair Steve Baker warned the proposed document would lead to a “miserable dystopia of Checkpoint Britain.” However, domestic certificates would likely be wrapped up with nigh inevitable international covid passports, to garner more votes. With only 8% of Brazilians vaccinated, the P1 variant led to 4,000 deaths in a day. More transmissible and infecting young people, it spread throughout South America and across the globe. Deliveroo denied IWGB* claims that hundreds took part in strike action, saying their drivers were happy. Shares rose slightly after a shaky start last week.
Another boring day, Thursday I aimed to do yoga in the afternoon but by the time a heap of chores were done, I’d had enough and lay down to rest instead. The roses Phil bought me at Easter had bloomed into a fabulous floral splendour, providing a splash of colour to a dull midweek.
18,000 new trains were arriving in time for Monday’s non-essential shopping trips. A study of 150,000 people indicated jabs broke the link between Covid and death but the number of hearts on the wall alongside St. Thomas’ Hospital still grew. It was odd I didn’t ever walk that way when I worked there many moons ago. Philippine president Duerte shielded from his staff who all had Covid. As ‘the troubles’ rumbled on, Stormont held an emergency sitting and Brad Lewis went to Belfast for urgent talks. Wednesday night, a bus was hijacked and burnt, and factions clashed either side of a gate on the so-called peace wall, between Shankill Road and Springfield Road. Teenagers threw missiles and petrol bombs. PSNI* fired rubber bullets and water cannons, just like the old days. The next night, community workers formed a human chain to prevent rioters reaching the gate at Lanark Way. Commentators cited a number of causes including a backlash against an IRA funeral last summer, the Brexit border in the Irish Sea and ‘increased rancour in the political sphere’. Loyalists were accused of egging on rioting youths. Interviewed on BBC news, a young man called Joel said people saw Sinn Fein winning and Loyalists under attack.
Adding to the 4 known forces of physics (gravity, electromagnetism, the strong force and the weak force) a new one was allegedly found. When muons were fired into a circular magnetic track, they wobbled. The elliptical result prompted Phil to call them ‘eggons’. The STFC* said it gave: “strong evidence for the existence of an undiscovered sub-atomic particle or new force” but not conclusive proof. Smiley Prof. Brian Cox enthused: “It would be the biggest discovery in particle physics for many years.” Shamelessly touting his upcoming Horizons tour, I laughed: “he’s nicked Count Arthur Strong’s idea. Well, that’s one way of dealing with merciless piss-taking!”
The Final Wipe-Down
Blue Snow
Starting to feel ill the night before, I tried a few stretches Friday morning before succumbing to the inevitable. Back in bed, I worked on the laptop to post a composite of the last 2 foraging trips on Cool Places. Phil worked downstairs, brought me lunch and went to the co-op for weekend supplies. Hoping to catch afternoon quiz shows, I turned the telly on to discover that Prince Philip had died. Incessant news coverage ensued, leading to 1000,000 official complaints. I whinged to an empty room. Accepting they had to do this stuff, I didn’t see why it had to be on all the channels, all the time. The endless cycle of toadying didn’t even include any of the Duke of Edinburgh’s famous gaffes (see example above).
Launching his ‘framework for travel’, Shats used classic double-speak, NOT saying don’t book foreign holidays. The DfT* refused to confirm they’d be allowed from 17th May, said there’d be an initial assessment early May and a review 28th June to see if ‘measures could be rolled back’. Shats admitted PCR tests were expensive and was trying to bring costs down. Jet2 extended the suspension of flights until June due to a lack of clarity. As UCL* modelling predicted herd immunity would be reached in time for pub and shop re-opening Monday, Debenhams was holding a fire sale at 97 stores. Vaccine hesitancy amongst ethnic minorities reportedly dropped to 6%, the Kent virus was now dominant in the USA*, and Slovakia said the Russian Sputnik V vaccine was rubbish.
I managed a few hours kip that night but woke in the early light at 6.00 a.m. Car doors slammed and people prattled inanely. Either the shed people or the flat residents had apparently been to an all-nighter.
Still ailing at the weekend, I only ventured downstairs for short spells. Most of the time, I sat abed, writing and watching telly. BBC 1 still showed interminable coverage of the dead duke including a noon gun salute and a remembrance service, but at least it wasn’t all the channels like Friday. Saturday, I tried to ignore the unremitting chatter of the flat residents in their garden. On his return from shopping, I told Phil it was doing my nut in and suspected it was them I’d heard coming home at 6.00 a.m. “We used to be like that when we were young,” he reminded me. “Yes, but not in a time of Covid!”
Sunday began startlingly bright as overnight snowfall dramatically reflected a blue sky. It was beautiful but hurt my eyes, especially as I attempted to capture the stunning scene on camera. By the time we’d bathed and breakfasted, most of the snow had melted. It became grey and cold as the sun went in. Freezing and achy, I went back to bed and draft-posted the next instalment of the journal. More snow fell later, but the soggy flakes didn’t stick. Although not unusual to have wintry showers in April, I’d never known it snow this late before.
Spoof Poster
Phil ventured to the convenience store in a clear spell, reporting town inevitably busy in anticipation of pubs opening in the morning. News media dubbed it ‘the final wipe-down’ and featured extra outdoor seating sprawled across pub carparks and pavements. “It’s all looking a bit medieval,” he laughed. Inspired to mock the latest government campaigns, my spoof poster only got one laugh on Facebook – what was wrong with people?
I stayed up to watch Line of Duty – or Line of Acronyms as we now called it – just about keeping apace of the lingo as they prated about AC-12, CHIS, OCG and MIT*. I returned to bed with a heavy head as though a weight pressed down above my eyes. The drone of railway engineering works again mitigated attempts to sleep. Using earplugs and the meditation tape, I eventually dropped into fractious slumber.
As vaccinations reached 32m and 7.5m had 2 doses, Phil said only 7 people died of Covid. I agreed that seemed negligible, but figures at the weekend were always lower due to reporting lags. George Fu Gao, head of the CCDCI* said something needed to be done to address the poor efficacy of Sinovax, just above 50%. After his comments went viral, social media posts were deleted and Gao later claimed his comments were misinterpreted.
Rishi’s text replies to David Camoron on the Greensill issue were published; he was ‘pushing for alternatives’ but with ‘no guarantees.’ It then emerged that in 2019, the ex-PM lobbied for Greensill to be given NHS contracts. Drinks with Matt Cock were apparently ‘a social occasion’ so didn’t have to be reported, and broke no rules. Would that be the rules Camoron drew up? He later said he should have used the proper channels. Labour replied that if rules weren’t broken, it was because they weren’t strict enough. In advance of publication Thursday, former tory minister Alan Duncan’s memoirs had already been serialised in The Daily Mail. He hilariously called The Glove-Puppet an unctuous freak, Gavin Salesman a venomous self-seeking little shit, Nasty Patel a nightmare, and The Bumbler an embarrassing buffoon.
*Lines of acronyms:
AZ – Astra-Zeneca
CVT – Cerebral Venous Thrombosis
MHRA – Medicines and Health Products Regulatory Agency
SPI-M – Scientific Pandemic Influenza Group on Modelling
NZ – New Zealand
UK – United Kingdom
PCR – Polymerase Chain Reaction
EMA – European Medicines Agency
JCVI – Joint Committee for Immunisation and Vaccination
SNP – Scottish Nationalist Party
CRG – Covid Recovery Group
IWGB – Independent Workers of Great Britain
PSNI – Police Service Northern Ireland
STFC – Science and Technology Facilities Council
DFT – Department for Transport
UCL – University College London
USA – United Sates of America
AC (as in AC-12) – Anti Corruption
CHIS – Covert Human Intelligence Source
OCG – Organised Crime Group
MIT – Murder Investigation Team
CCDCI – Chinese Centre for Disease Control and Infection
“I squarely believe we ought to be trading liberally around the world. If we restrict it to countries with ECHR-level standards of human rights, we’re not going to do many trade deals with the growth markets of the future” (Dominic Raab)
Dodgy Manoeuvres
Haiga – Pentangle
After posting blogs Monday, I read updates from the researcher explaining why she’d been quiet lately. I offered to provide a guest post for her blog and reiterated a willingness to be interviewed. I started drafting the next instalment of the journal when the window cleaner rapped loudly at the door. On sitting back down, we were disturbed again; by texts from our GP surgery, offering more local vaccine appointments. Booking for 2 days hence, I cancelled my slot at the regional centre (not as easy as you’d think) but how did they know I wasn’t double-booked? A trip to the co-op involved dodging loitering teenagers near the entrance and an uncomfortably close hippy. Phil cleaned the living room while I was out. After sorting groceries, I collapsed gratefully on a freshened sofa.
Cases of the SA variant led to surge testing in the London areas of Camberwell, Southwark and Harrow. A suspected link to blood clots found in Norway, the list of countries suspending use of AZ grew to an epidemic from Denmark to Thailand. The WHO, EMA and MHRA all assured us there was no connection. Prof. Pollard said: “if we have no vaccination and we come out of lockdown in this country, we will expect tens of thousands of more deaths…a number of countries around Europe are now seeing an increase in cases.” One year on from the start of the pandemic, MP’s reported the government didn’t act early enough – no shit Sherlock! A record 74 protestors were killed in Myanmar while here, a second demo aimed at The Met took place at Parliament Square but Boris backed Chief Dick. The Crime and Justice Taskforce promised an extra £20m for street lighting and CCTV. The Police Bill* giving more powers to cops to stop protests due in parliament. Labour planned to oppose it for being ‘poorly thought out’ and containing lots on statues and hardly anything on protecting women. Rape cases not tried on merit, the court of appeal defended the ‘bookie’ system.
The EU instigated formal legal action over the UK’s ‘grace period’ decision. As a letter to government complained allowing shops to open before hospitality was unfair, Phil discovered pubs were fully booked from 12th April indoors and 17th May outdoors for up to 10 weeks. Puzzled, I pointed out “by then it will be August and they should all be open anyway, if there aren’t any blocks in the stupid road map. And how do punters know if they’ll need a Covid Pass or not?”
Overnight, I fretted over our pending jabs and possible blood clots. A chat with Phil Tuesday morning dispelled some anxiety. “The EU have blown it totally out of proportion – nowt to do with Brexit!” A couple of days later, the EMA confirmed there was no link between AZ and thrombosis. But the questionably political manoeuvres had already done damage to Europe’s vaccine plans.
A rainy night led to a grey start, becoming warm and sunny later. After a series of morning chores and tedious life admin, I took advantage of the lovely afternoon to clear dead growth from the garden, surrounded by the sounds of tweety birds as flocks of crows flew over. Decorating neighbour wandered up and down the street, complaining of bad parking and his broken down car. “The geese are coming,” he intoned, “I’ve just seen them on the corner.” “They do like having a wander,” I replied, “even the Canada Geese are doing it now.” “Yes, I’ve noticed that. They’re very tasty. I had one in Canada.” “Well, there’s nothing to stop you eating these ones.” As he looked bemused, I assured him it was perfectly legal. The elderly couple embarked on an afternoon stroll, pausing to compare health notes. I informed them Phil was photographing birds at the riverside to add to his current project but he could have stayed home for that. Sweeping up detritus, I thought I’d dodged dog poo but irritatingly got some on my shoes. By the time I’d cleaned it off, I was exhausted and slumped on the sofa.
The Prince and Monty
On the anniversary of the first daily plague briefing, a survey found half the population still didn’t wash their hands after going shopping and disgustingly more bacteria on kettle handles, remote controls and door knobs than on toilets! Despite profit losses, Greggs still planned to open 100 new shops, ‘entering empty spaces with low rent’; I.e., capitalising on the demise of rival high street traders.
An inquest into the actual cause of Sarah Everard’s death would open on Thursday and Wayne Couzens’ court date was set for October. Prince Philip emerged from a month in hospital, resembling Monty Burns from The Simpsons.
A year-long study culminating in the ‘most comprehensive’ (and possibly the most long-windedly titled) defence review since the cold war, was presented in the commons. The ‘Integrated Review of Security, Defence, Development and Foreign Policy’ shifted focus to the Indo-Pacific region as ‘increasingly the geopolitical centre of the world’, muted an increase in nuclear warheads, a cyber force move to the North West (likely the shiny GCHQ building in Manchester) and a counter-terrorism operations centre – asserting the main threats were from Islamist, Northern Irish, far-right, far-left and anarchist terrorists. A lifetime since the Angry Brigades, I wondered did they mean the anti-5g-ers? I knew no anarchists who bought into that nonsense but thinking back to my youth, there were conspiracy-theorists in the mix who ironically failed to grasp the basic concept of the capitalist conspiracy.
Lightning Speed
Narcissi
I set the alarm for 8.00 a.m. Wednesday but woke at 8.20 to the drone of canal work. The radio volume too low, I was glad of the interminable workmen for once! We left the house in good time and laughed at temperamental geese on the church lawn behind the bus-stop. In the next town, we scooted round the market and scoffed pasties from the bakers stall. 2 people loitered outside a locked health centre. Nipping in Boots for emergency mouthwash, I waited ages to be served as the staff were all gassing. Coming out, I found an actual queue. Phil in the middle of the carpark on his phone, hadn’t saved a place. It took a couple of minutes for people to cotton on when the centre’s doors opened at 1 o’clock, but the process soon sped up. Our appointments a ½ hour apart, reception let us proceed together, to wait on adjacent coloured lines. In the small room, an HCA checked my details until the doctor arrived. I told her I was unnerved by the blood clot scare. She mouthed platitudes, fired out some questions then snapped: “are you having it or what?” “Well, I’m here now.” After the lightning-quick injection, I followed lines to the back door, waiting in a patch of sun while Phil donned his layers. “I feel odd,” he said, “but it might be psychological.” “Me too.” I remarked: “the injection is so speedy you could jab people without them knowing. And the needle is too tiny for a chip.” He giggled at the idea of going round stabbing hippies. “The latest claim is it contains water.” “What’s the point of that?” “To kill gammons.” “Thousands would be dead already if that was true.” In Lidl, Phil started to feel worse so we headed over to the bus-stop. I was thankful for my face-covering on the bus where a mask-less, reeking man dropped his butty on the floor, picked it up and ate it – ugh!
Shopping sorted, we had a cuppa and sugary snack to make up for lack of a lolly (or sticker, for that matter). Dozing on the sofa, I was unsure if the fatigue was a side-effect of AZ or from the trip which would tire me anyway. Cleaning the bathroom, I discovered the back window covered in black mould, only a year since I decorated! Phil struggled to eat dinner, feeling nauseous and spaced out. I said “it’s a common side effect to have a touch of the flu.” Although it was only the first dose and would be a while until protection kicked in, I felt psychologically better but the jabbed arm ached at bed-time. I took ibuprofen and shifted around to prevent putting pressure on it.
Our efforts added to a total of 25m inoculations to date. Rabid Raab gave the plague briefing to warn of reduced supplies until the end April and no new appointments after 31st March. Phil worried we wouldn’t get our second one. “I’m sure they’ll have factored that in.” Adolf Von De Leyen again threatened to block exports to countries with higher coverage rates than the EU, i.e., the UK. Hazarding that may be the cause of the shortage, the official line was a batch ordered from an AZ factory in India wasn’t coming. The Scumbag appeared before the S&T committee to claim the mess at the start of the pandemic was because DHSC was a ‘smoking ruin’. He took credit for the vaccine success as along with Prof. Valance, he’d urged Boris to take it out of the hands of civil servants (whom he hated) and set up a separate Taskforce. All hail Dominic! (sic). Downing Street defended the DHSC for establishing ‘one of the biggest diagnostic networks in UK history’ and procurement efforts. It was hard to determine who told the worst whoppers. Referring to Aria (Advanced Research and Invention Agency) with a £800m budget to invest in ‘high risk, high reward’ projects, The Scumbag said it needed ‘extreme freedom’ to act with no ‘horrific bureaucracy’ of procurement or Treasury rules. Not to mention it would mean his mates could get more dosh! Nasty Patel’s proposal to send asylum seekers awaiting a decision offshore was branded heartless and inhumane. Processing centres muted on the IOM, IOW and Gibraltar, they said no way, but allegedly Turkey agreed to it. Liverpudlians celebrated St. Patricks Day with an illegal bash in Sefton Park.
Although recording misogyny as a hate crime was a welcome move, the £45m for Project Vigilante to keep women safe in bars was derided by Jess Philips as cops ‘in skinny jeans’ Reclaim These Streets said it didn’t tackle ‘institutional problems of misogyny and racism’. While the European Commission discussed their Covid pass, P&O would require confirmation of 2 jabs from patrons. Sailing round the UK coast with no ports of call, it really was a Brexit Island cruise! They could at least make stops at interesting docks like Goole and Tilbury. Uber announced all employees would get the minimum wage, holiday pay and pensions. Mick Rix, GMB said it: “…opens the door for…better pay and conditions at companies across the gig economy.” But the TUC wanted it to go further; without full employment rights, there wasn’t parity.
Waking at 8 on Thursday, I railed ‘why didn’t that happen yesterday?’ I completed the 2021 census on-line. Postponed in Scotland until 2022, it seemed an odd time to do it. Allegedly used to plan public services, with everyone working at home, they’d probably conclude we didn’t need any. Prof. Danny Dorling of Oxford University said it would show up inequalities made stark by the pandemic. After lunch, I went to the co-op and managed not to get stressed despite half-empty shelves and screeching kids. On the way back I came across German Friend hoovering her car and stopped to chat. Vaccinated last week, she also suffered an achy arm. Classed vulnerable, she’d indignantly rang the GP to complain of not having it sooner and to get a local appointment. She told me a mutual friend was doing well a year after a serious operation and the friend’s daughter enjoyed her new job as assistant manager at a new supermarket in the next town. Telling me she met up with a couple of pub mates weekly, I took a breath before asking “are you a bubble?” “Sort of. Well, we’re all elderly.” “Piss off! You’re the same age as me!” We shared gripes on the travails in Europe affecting relatives, coffee-cuppers, conspiracy-theorists and tourists infesting the place. Taking my leave, shed boy and lass hovered on their doorstep. I gave them a wide berth. Still ailing, Phil took an extended siesta but had more of an appetite at dinner.
2 days previously, Huff post reported on a leaked q&a session with FCDO staff, wherein Rabid Raab suggested trade deals were more important than human rights (see quote above). Lisa Nandy said “it is the latest example of a government entirely devoid of a moral compass and riddled with inconsistency; happy to say one thing in public and another behind closed doors” In the commons, Rees-Moggy claimed the comments had been “shockingly distorted by low-quality journalism.” Huff Post called it a blatant use of parliamentary privilege, defaming the journalist who was unable to sue.
No stranger to libel cases, Ian Hislop said on QT that the EU’s stance on vaccine nationalism was ‘embarrassing’ for remainers like him and Jess Philips was flummoxed by actions that endangered their own people. On tackling violence against women, Minister for Safeguarding Thicky Atkins recited a list of crappy measures to which Jess Philips replied you couldn’t just have one meeting and say it was sorted, and she could have told them what to do 10 years ago. Hislop observed we’d never again believe it when the government told us there’s no money: “why can’t we have it all?” Discussing the defence review, Ian and Jess found it a strange time to increase stockpiles of WMD when the biggest threat was cyber. As a Scot living near Faslane, Kirsten Oswald, SNP, was not happy. Thicky Atkins hilariously replied hi-tech work also took place but we didn’t know about the cyber force because they ‘work in secret.’ Splutter!
Monochrome Walk
Down the Street
Doing exercises Friday morning I skipped those with too much arm movement. Phil still experienced flu-like symptoms but bravely soldiered on. I spent the morning on the computer and headed to town in the afternoon. Stopping on the steps to take photos of daffodils, I checked nobody was coming up but didn’t spot a woman patiently wating at the bottom. I apologised but she assured me it was no bother. Hurrying down to the junction, a couple rounding the corner looked like they were about to speak to me. I hesitated not wanting to get close, when they indicated carrier bags I’d dropped in my haste. Across the road, a crocodile of small kids streamed out of school. In Boots to collect an order, I swerved a meandering couple and retreated to the windowfront to decant the delivery. A member of staff helpfully took the box away for me. I rushed through a busy square and detoured across the less-populous old bridge to find dinky narcissi nestled at the bottom of a stone wall. Trying to rest later, shed boy annoyingly conversed loudly outside for a full 10 minutes before getting in his car. In the evening, I had a funny turn. Sudden pains and a hot arm sent me into a panic. I told myself it was a hot flush, then felt really spacey. As my heart rate increased, I tried to calm down with steady breathing. Phil assured me I’d be fine. I was, but still perturbed, I speculated on anti-bodies kicking in.
In the midst of a third wave, European countries went into lockdown including Poland and Italy, but some re-started use of AZ, including French PM Jean Castex. Prof. Pollard called it: “…reassuring…we’re not really in a battle with each other or the vaccine, we’re battling a ruthless killer that within the European Union has killed 6000,000 people in the past year.” Excess deaths among over 65’s up 7.7% in 2020, the UK was second only to Bulgaria. PHE research found travel corridors were to blame for rate rises late summer. Prof. Ferguson said the SA variant needed to be kept at bay and would be the focus of modified vaccines next winter while Oliver Dowdy hinted at Covid Passes for events with big crowds such as the FA cup final.
Saturday marked the spring solstice but was cold and grey. I cooked and attempted another creation in Photoshop. Phil went to the shop, to see the contents of the hippy co-op pub drinking tinnies on the riverside among the coffee-cuppers. He also came across an old friend, looking healthy since losing a lot of weight. She’d also had the vaccine but was hesitant about attending the local club’s re-opening night in May. “I don’t blame her. I might never go there again!””
26m, half the adult UK population, now had one dose of vaccine. Amidst ‘legal uncertainty’ creating a fiasco at the Sarah Everard vigil, 60 MPs wrote a letter about the right to protest. The government insisted it was illegal but would be allowed from 29th March as ‘small gatherings’. Mike Tildsley warned foreign summer holidays were still unlikely as Grant Shats told us they’d decide at a Global Travel Taskforce in April.
We consulted world maps to locate the highest number of vaccinations (Israel, UEA, UK, Serbia, with the USA catching up) and the lowest infection rates (NZ, Australia, and most dot islands apart from the Virgin Islands – remember that?) Commercial breaks full of holiday ads, I said “for Australia fair enough, but Turkey!!! Rates are going up and only yesterday, we were told going there this summer is unlikely. Jet2 and Turkish Airlines should be banned for encouraging and misleading people.”
Starting bright, Sunday soon reverted to grey. In need of fresh air, we walked west on the renewed towpath to the basin. My attempts to emulate Phil’s geese portraits were hit and miss but I got a few decent shots of flowers, reflections, barge features and small streets. A sheep’s head adorned by a pentagram inspired my next haigai while a monochrome terrace got a record number of likes on Instagram. Returning partly on roadway, I popped in the co-op where my mate at the kiosk whinged about ‘bloody tourists’.
On the Marr, Defence Sec Ben Wally said he hadn’t booked a holiday this year. He wouldn’t comment much on the defence ‘command paper’ before publication but claimed people voted for an increase in nuclear warheads. Err, no we didn’t! Asked about a surveillance ship being built to protect undersea cables, we speculated they could be used to find mines dumped in the sea after WW2, before building the bridge to Northern Ireland.
A peaceful Kill the Bill demo in Bristol turned violent. Cop shops were besieged, vans set alight, 20 bobbies injured and 7 protestors arrested. Nasty Patel called it “Thuggery” while the mayor said it didn’t represent the city.
On a sunny Monday, I forced myself up to do exercise, in spite of tummy ache. Posting blogs took ages as WordPress changed the format to something called ‘block editor’. Unable to see how to align photos, I thought of changing back to ‘classic editor’, but that cost money. I almost cried with frustration! Eventually, Phil helped figure it out. Allegedly the change was to make inserted pictures look better but I couldn’t see any difference. The morning gone, I really wanted some rays but had to wait a while for the gripes to subside. By the time we were ready to go out it was 3.30. As usual, Phil needed the shop. As we made our way to town, insisted on picking berries from a meagre crop of blackberries near the old builder’s yard. In the always-busy centre, we visited a couple of shops and lingered awhile near the river. Back home, a pile of kids were clambering over our garden bench. I told them off, then hovered to make sure they behaved, while a woman emerged from next door (probably the mother). As she started taking photos of the kids posing in front of the wall, I said pointedly: “when you’ve quite finished with my garden, I was going to clean up.” This was half-true; I had thought earlier of sweeping dead weeds into a binbag before the rubbish was collected early next morning but hadn’t felt up to it. I forgo a siesta in an effort to shift the interlopers. it didn’t! I swept up regardless and eventually they did move off, with the residents of next door, only to loiter further down the street. Phil came out and made to help but I advised against it I was almost done and he had clean hands. Stuffing a bargain quiche in the freezer, I discovered squishy Magnums. We ate the messy but tasty treats outside to avoid spillages.
Watching catch-up on My5 in the evening, the internet bombed repeatedly. And each time the programme resumed, we had to watch adverts, including for the thing we were trying to watch! As the internet flaked out again right near the end of the last episode, we gave up.
Tuesday, I rose slightly later after a decent sleep, performed a few chores and was just about to sit with a cuppa, when the British Gas engineer rang to say he’d be half an hour. A responsible, physically-distanced visit concluded with him informing us the central heating was functioning well. Of course he had to give us the spiel about it being an old boiler and offering a quote for a new one. “We Can’t afford it”. We said in unison. “Who’s got money for that type of thing right now?” I added.
I worked on the journal in the afternoon but became unable to focus. I briefly rested my eyes then switched to smaller tasks, including trying to book an Ocado delivery to find no decent slots, and texted some friends. Needing a complete break from technology, I went upstairs, did yoga, and lay down to read and relax. A variety of external noise made repose impossible. With the arrival of Storm Francis, traffic splashed through surface water on the main road, goods trains careered by, and works vans revved. Local news reported that heavy rain had caused flood sirens to sound but amongst the other racket, I didn’t hear them. In fact, we seemed to get off quite lightly again compared to other areas of the country. Not that that would be the case with the Co-op bank branch closures. The lay-offs were bound to badly affect this region.
Boris called the BBC ‘wet’ for announcing they would not be singing the words to patriotic songs at the prom finale. That was rich from the biggest wet going! The WHO now advised all people over 12 to wear face-coverings. Compulsory in school corridors north of the border, Tory MP Marcus WetFish called it ‘scientifically illiterate guff’ while our government refused to change the guidance. Later, ministers announced a partial U-turn saying that in ‘areas of national intervention’, masks should be worn in transition areas. Heads rolled in the form of Sally Collier, head of Ofqual (clearly a scapegoat for the recent debacle) followed the next day by DFE Permanent Secretary Jon Slater, with Boris passing the buck on a ‘mutant algorithm’ for the exam results fiasco.
A good day for Astra-Zeneca, they started trials of the catchily-named drug AZD7442. Consisting of 2 monoclonal antibodies, extracted from people who’d had Covid-19, it was a preventative for those exposed and a curative for those infected with coronavirus, possibly effective for 6 months. Meanwhile, Trump planned emergency authorisation for the vaccine developed by AZ and Oxford University.
A Brexit Interlude
Brexit Turnip
Newsnight reported on Brexit including a leaked dossier from the Cabinet Office. Disaster planning included food drops on the Channel Islands, massively increased PPE and testing capacity (sic) and troops on the streets, to mitigate shortages and rioting. This prompted much mirth at the prospect of turnips for Christmas dinner and a post on ‘Brexit Island’ for the first time in a while.
A Slightly Sad Day for Pie Fans
Overgrown Grocer’s Yard
Tummy issues re-surfaced on Wednesday. Not helped by watching Jeremy Vine as I became incensed at Carol Gammon not getting challenged on her terrible mask ‘science’ with no one citing the recent research on their effectiveness. My tweet went unacknowledged. Cleaning the living room rendered me exhausted and irritable. After a coffee break, I worked on the journal until lunchtime. Phil said he needed to go to the shop and asked if I wanted to come. Still feeling uncomfortable, I agreed. On the way, we saw the elusive courgette grower for the first time, pruning his raised beds which take up whole chunks of pavement. Errands done, we wandered round town and noticed the old grocer’s yard was very overgrown with the cobbles almost indiscernible beneath opportunistic grass and weeds. Round the corner, we bumped into an old friend for the first time this year. With similar mental health issues, we chatted about liking lockdown and fighting the system (having both recently won battles).
Last Sunday evening in Kenosha, Wisconsin, Jacob Blake had been shot seven times in the back by police as he entered his car where his children sat. His family said he was paralysed from waist down. Protests continued in several US cities and 2 people were shot dead by a white vigilante. Melania Trump called for calm and not judging people on colour (sentiments not echoed by her husband).
Thursday started better. A submission for the next issue of Valley Life magazine was due. I worked on a draft and was quite pleased with ‘Autumn Symphony’ if I say so myself! On the market, I waited ages at the fish van as the queue hardly moved. I would never get how some people could afford to buy up practically everything on the stall, with the price of fish these days! It made my bit of trout look meagre.
The government announced payments of £13 per day for people on benefits asked to self-isolate in the ‘high risk areas’ of Blackburn, Pendle and Oldham, with possible roll-out if the pilot worked. Council leaders called the nudge a ‘slap in the face’. Czechia, Switzerland and Jamaica were added to the travel quarantine list, starting at the now habitual time of 4.00 a.m. Saturday. A pamphlet was issued saying 5g was safe. I doubted the hippies would take any notice. It was a sad day for pie-eaters as a Covid-19 outbreak hit Greggs distribution in Leeds. And a sad day for latte-drinkers. Pret A Manger shed branches and staff, confirming our prediction that all the economic nudging to keep coffee shops afloat was a waste of money.
A Very Sad Day for Marvel Fans
RIP Black Panther
Friday was positively yukky. Suitably attired for the stormy conditions, I embarked on the weekly co-op shop. A woman reached into the chiller cabinet, picked up packs of humus, peered at them for ages then put them back. Waiting on the other side of the aisle, impatience got the better of me. As she moved slightly to the side, I took a large stride and reached in to quickly grab what I wanted saying “before you touch very single one!” Inevitably done in when I got back, I took time to recover before starting work on a 2021 calendar based on my haigas.
Local restrictions were due to be eased from weds 2nd September, for most of Bradford, Calderdale and Kirklees, but not Halifax, Batley, Dewsbury, Bradford City or Keighley. With the picture also patchy in the GMC area, it looked blatantly racist. Big news in Metro but not even mentioned on telly news, fast-tracking of licensing was proposed to enable the use of vaccines before the end of the year. To coincide with the new school term, and with 9/10 people wanting to stay working at home, government planned adverts aimed at getting people back to workplaces. Announced by Grant Shatts, hypocritically from his house, ‘Inside the Nudge Unit’ took pride of place on the bookshelf behind him. Obviously where he got all his tips. Printed media reported that they’d threatened redundancy if people stayed away from the office. The last time I looked, the government had no jurisdiction over individual workplace policies, thus had no right to say that. Labour MP Lucy Powell called the comments ‘unconscionable’ and Sturgeon said workers should not be intimidated into going into offices. Indy Sage accused the government of abdicating responsibility, saying what was really needed was a functioning TIT and a ‘workplace charter’ to ensure safety: “Threats and slogans won’t get us out of this pandemic.”
Sadly, Chadwick Boseman aka Black Panther, died aged 43. He’d suffered with bowel cancer for 4 years but continued working – a great loss to the comic film industry.
A Rude Awakening
Haiga – Impressions i
Saturday morning, I tried to sleep late but had to get up for the loo. Bad enough having to go so early, there was then a very loud impatient rapping on the front door. Phil belatedly started down the stairs, asking “did someone knock?” “It’s probably kids. Ignore it. They’ll be gone by now anyway.” Phil went back to bed. I went down to fetch tea and saw a Post Office card for him with illegible sorting office collection times. He’d been invited to take part in a trial. Also from Imperial College, but different to mine, it was to see if he actually had Covid-19. Having filled in the on-line questionnaire he awaited the testing kit which was probably the contents of the package.
As dismal weather persisted, I worked on the journal and 2021 calendar. Then I made a banana and date loaf (eating some warm out of the oven with lunch), and Phil cut my hair. I was just cleaning up afterwards when he shouted down to the kitchen very loudly, making me jump! Thinking something bad had happened, he mildly asked what we still needed from the shops. Gone ages, he eventually returned to say town was packed with drunks outside all the pubs. The traditional bank holiday weekend shenanigans, despite the awful weather.
Bright at first, Sunday soon reverted to type. I had a terrible night. Coupled with dismal conditions, I was disinclined to go out, and Phil equally so. I continued 2021 calendar designs and nicked the new cover haiku for use in my weekly blog. The rest of the time, I watched telly, bemoaning the severe lack of Bank Holiday specials – not like the old days!
Days before the new term yet more guidance for schools was issued with different tiers: tier 1 – all in school. Tier 2 – rota system for secondary pupils, (if a rise in cases). Tier 3 – secondary pupils work at home. Tier 4 – full lockdown (last resort). Meanwhile, universities warned that students returning risked a ‘second wave’. They should have thought of that earlier. ‘Unite for Freedom’, an anti-lockdown protest inhabited Trafalgar Square and coppers broke up illegal gatherings. There was a huge rave in wales and in WY police issued 8 £10k fines, mostly in Leeds. A flight from Zante contained infected people. Appalled fellow passengers claimed TUI didn’t enforce mask-wearing and failed to inform people for 5 days. In response, the company said a full investigation would take place.
The Corvus Diaries 