Part 105 – Jubilation?

“The PM has repeatedly shown he is unable to uphold (British) values and the reaction of the public at St Paul’s showed they know it too” (Lucy Powell)

Imperial Nonsense

Haiga – Reflections

The wee hours of 1st June, I dreamt of sitting in an ambulance wearing a face-mask.  Odd having a covid dream after so long, was it a premonition of another wave?  OneDrive did 500,000 ‘processes’.  No idea what the heck they were, Phil managed to stop them so I could use the laptop.  Bank statements revealed my benefit increased mid-April by a mega £3.50 a week – not even enough for a pint!  Putting stuff in cupboards, a small pot fell out to land in the cafetiere.  Another one bites the dust!  Thank god for the spare.

In his annual report, Lord Geidt said whether Boris’ fine broke the ministerial code, was a ‘legitimate question’.  The Bumbler replied he took full responsibility, had apologised to The House, there was no intent to break rules, paying a FPN wasn’t a criminal offence and quitting over ‘miserable’ Partygate was irresponsible amid ‘huge pressure’ on the economy, war and a ‘massive agenda’ he was elected to deliver.  Did he mean Brexit?  Rabid Raab insisted a confidence vote wasn’t imminent.  Lisa Nandy called it ‘a damning indictment’ of the PMs leadership: “that successive ethics advisers…feel they can’t trust (his) integrity…This is a government that is rotten to the core, that the rot (sic) starts from the top.”  Airport chaos worse during half-term, Tui cancelled 200 Manchester flights.  Sharon Graham said aviation bosses slashing wages and sacking staff during the pandemic, got rich on high profits and low pay.  Reaping what they’d sown, they should hang their heads in shame.  Quite!  Why book people on holidays they couldn’t get to?  In defence, Airlines UK said they didn’t know exactly when all restrictions would be lifted nor how much travel would be possible by summer.  Raab demanded airlines, airports and ground handlers met him to discuss over-booking and ill-preparedness.  Dreadful Doris announced Bradford as UK City of Culture 2025.  Maybe they’d clean up the Odeon and fill in the big hole for the festival of dire youff poetry.

Sun tempted me to don the new dress and open windows Thursday.  News stopped for Platty Joobs, we joked the so-called pageant would be the largest handmade parade in history, remembered jubblys (still available) and invented retro 1950’s dishes such as jubilee potato – just potato.  YouGov found only 9% of young people thought the royals relevant.  Nevertheless, we broke the rule of no lunchtime telly for the flypast.  Definitely the highlight of the day’s celebrations with all the planes and helicopters, Queenie with selected family on Buck House’s balcony, seemed impressed by the forming of a ‘70’ in the sky.   Enough nonsense, I hung washing out.  The Woman Next Door assured me it wouldn’t rain but the day didn’t live up to the billing of wall-to-wall sunshine.  Increasingly convinced the forecast was a conspiracy, maybe I shouldn’t have told her that!  The only sign of royalism in the co-op a woman wearing a cheap t-shirt emblazoned with ‘happy jubilee’, Phil found an infestation of red gammons in town.  They didn’t need sun, just beer!  Making a courgette and lemon cake was easy except I grated my thumb knuckle.  Icing it the next day, I wished I’d remembered the unopened Sicilian lemon essence earlier.

Oldies at a Jeremy Vine jubilee party Friday, I guffawed at an engrossed Phil but agreed their reminiscences were sociologically interesting.  Putting the telly back on for St Paul’s chimes, we mistimed it to see Boris speaking.  He and Carrie got booed going to the thanksgiving service.  Too much after the excitement of the flypast, Queenie missed it.  Justin Welby and Randy Andy missed it as they had covid – ha! ha!  We left the bells ringing for 4 hours to visit a favoured clough.  Coming back, we found a roll of old maps at a street corner and the town centre chocka; like any weekend except for the odd bit of bunting and flags in shop windows creating a patriotic enclave near the micro pub (see Cool Placesi).

A consultation began on restoring the crown to pint glasses and pounds and ounces in shops.  Chris Philp ((aka American Psycho Patrick Bateman) said imperial measures were universally understood and would bring ‘a bit of our national culture and heritage back on the top shelf’.  Alicia Kearns called it a load of imperial nonsense, Asda boss Lord Rose called it ‘utter nonsense’, National Market Traders Fed said it’d just create hassle and historian Mary Beard termed the debate a ‘nostalgia war’.  Harry Styles at number 1, the Sex Pistols didn’t get in the top 10.  We didn’t bother digging out those Stuff The Jubilee badges!  100 days since the invasion, Russia controlled 1/5 of Ukraine.  Uncle Joe pledged more weapons and urged a change in US gun laws after mass shootings in May killed Texan primary schoolkids.

Saturday, we investigated the route of Younger Brothers’ sponsored Leeds-Liverpool canal bike ride next weekend.  Doubting we’d be up on time to cheer him, Phil was keen to visit the wonder of the ‘straight mile’ sometime.  The smattering of stalls and displays at the art launch rather underwhelming, it did include our crossings workshop poems. 

Ben The Caterpillar

We had a bash at Tetra Pak printing with The Printer.  No tracing option, I called over to my old drawing teacher nearby: “You know how rubbish my drawing is!”  She chuckled.  Using styli, I etched a lopsided butterfly and Phil a very detailed bee, the antenna drooping as he ran out of space.  He again whinged kids’ efforts were better, especially Ben The Caterpillar.  We washed ink off our hands and wandered up the riverside.

Rippling with colour, tiny bugs with transparent wings hid on leafy stems; only visible on zoomed-in photos.  Surprised to see the crap market on, we battled through a packed square to ask for lavender oil at the aromatherapy stall.  The price almost doubled in 2 years, I gave it a miss.  We found a few bargains in convenience stores, browsed the new witch bookshop (aka Harry Potter emporium) and waylaid an erstwhile pub mate going to a trad pub for a Jive Bunny disco.

Phil’s back pain worse Sunday, I thought it maybe from hunching over the etching or going out the house 2 days running.  Cold, grey and damp, we stayed in.  20 years ago we might have gone for Gin and Pimm’s at the canalside pub before nicking cake at the parish church garden party.  More sedate these days, I wrote a haigaii and tackled the landing.  Planning to clean the rug, by the time I’d hoovered and rebuilt a tripod storage basket which predictably collapsed, I was knackered.  A blissfully unaware Phil didn’t hear the clattering and swearing!  Sleep mediocre, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a decent night.

Shats told Sophie Raworth other countries had airport staff shortages.  Nowt to do with Brexit, there’d be no special visas for foreign workers.  Touring with Jeff Beck, a ‘humble’ Johnny Depp spent £50,000 on a Brummie curry.  After 4 days’ hard toadying by her subjects, Queenie appeared on Buck House’ balcony.  Saying she was ‘humbled’, took the biscuit!  Lucy Powell wrote in The Guardian that as labour captured British values, cherished institutions and believed our best days were ahead, they enshrined patriotic principles more than tories.  Short-term ‘red meat’ policies like selling Channel 4 and reverting to imperial measures, diminished our global reputation, cost jobs and denied us ‘moments of togetherness’.  Grimsby Town returned to league football and Wales beat Ukraine to reach the world cup.  A jubilant Gareth Bale said the ‘crazy journey’ was ‘literally what dreams are made of’.

Monday mostly spent on admin, I thanked The Researcher for posting my takeover blog and discovered the main Crossings expo was at the town hall next Saturday, for one day only until it moved elsewhere. Why such short notice?  I read a letter from NHS pensions and registered to access details online.  Unsure if getting the paltry amount now would affect my benefit, I rang and spoke to a nice Geordie.  He didn’t know but clarified I could draw on it anytime after my next birthday.  As it would go up with inflation, I decided to leave it ‘til I really needed it, which might not be long the way things were going!

Thousands stranded by cancelled flights at the end of half-term and Platty Joobs, those who made it back faced Yorkshire bus and London tube strikes.  Jesse Norman published his letter to Boris saying the Gray report showed he ‘presided over a culture of casual law-breaking’ and to describe himself as ‘vindicated’ was ‘grotesque’.  He also lambasted the Rwanda policy, selling channel 4, the ‘foolhardy and illegal’ Northern Ireland policy, banning noisy protests and no ‘sense of mission’.  In letters to the 1922 committee, MPs cited the St Pauls booing and jitters before 2 byelections.  Some post-dated until after the long weekend, the threshold of 54 was reached.  Hoping to ‘draw a line’ under it, Boris wrote to all his MPs and addressed the committee before the evening’s confidence vote.  He won by a mere 68.  As reporters stupidly stood in Downing Street at teatime, they ignored a woman in a taffeta dress posing at the shiny door and in the evening, Bella Ciao blasting in the background.  Pressure Drop Brewery reduced staff work time from 5 to 4 days for the same pay.  ONS reckoned UK coronavirus restrictions led to £140bn ‘forced savings’.  I bet tories hated that!  Twitter failing to supply fake account info, Elon Musk threatened to pull out of the deal.

Waking with a claggy throat Tuesday, I moped and almost stayed abed but didn’t.  Opening a pack of coffee, I discovered Ocado sent beans instead of granules.  Grinding them tedious, I dossed with a cuppa and started draft-posting the journal before going to the co-op.  Previously just grabbing essential milk, I red shelf labels to note a 4-pinter was almost ½ price by volume.  How had I missed that money saver?

Heartless tory Brendan Clark-Smith moaned to Jeremy Vine that people used ‘personal tragedy’ to try ousting the PM.  Speculation continuing on his future, Boris thanked cabinet for their support and vowed to get on with the people’s business, level up, cut government spending and taxes.  He told them to look at ways to reduce costs and drive reform.  PAC reported Levelling Up decisions gambled taxpayers’ money on slogans.  Will Haigh likened the PM to a mad pilot who’d locked himself in the cockpit and being inducted into the Order of the Bath, Pat Vallance was ‘disappointed’ by the rule-flouting.  Labour urged The House to vote for committee for standards in public life recommendations giving Geidt powers to initiate investigations into ministerial code breaches.  79 migrants brought ashore, 10,000 made dodgy channel crossings so far this year.  Russia in control of ½ Donbas, Vlod said ‘heroic’ defence of the region continued.  Calling him a concrete friend to Ukraine, he was jubilant Boris survived the confidence vote.  Talks failing, RMT announced another tube strike 21st June and the first national action in 30 years affecting Network Rail and 13 TOCs on 3 days later in June.  Monkeypox became a notifiable disease.

Downward Spiral

Haiga – Showtime

Overnight indigestion persisting into Wednesday, I exercised through discomfort, moved tons of clothes (drying ridiculously slowly for June) and vacuumed the living room, finding an easter chick beneath the sofa and a wine stain on the throw.  On the front bench at PMQs, Trussed-Up Liz resembled a corpse.  Saying the confidence vote showed his own party loathed the PM, Angela Eagle asked if they didn’t trust him, why should we?  Boris harped on about those imaginary high-wage, high-skilled jobs.  Ian Blackford referenced Monty Python’s Black Knight: ‘it’s only a flesh wound’.  Rather than laying into the PM, Keir dwelt on the NHS’s GP shortage, decrepit buildings, waiting times and ambulances arriving after patients died.  I hated to agree with Boris that the line of attack wasn’t working.  Goblin Saj later waded into a row on NHS Digital removing the word ‘woman’ from advice on cervical and ovarian cancer.  As if there weren’t bigger things to worry about!  Costs spiralling out of control, the HS2 West Coast mainline link was cancelled, thus rendering the project an expensive Brummie commuter line.  Esther McVey wanted it scrapped altogether.

Buzzing Flowers

I posted a journal entry and again baffled by the short notice, shared a Crossings expo poster attached to an e-mail.  Fatigue, aches and pains mitigated against a planned trip to Shopping Town but Phil wanted gentle back exercise.  Strolling down the street, he photographed doors.  A neighbour entered her house as he took a snap.  “Do you like my door?”  Noting the lovely entrance tiles, she asked did he want another pic?  “No, just the door!”  She didn’t think we were nuts at all!

We wandered terraced backstreets for more doors and spectacular grasses until needing refreshment, we got pop from the shop and sat on the riverside.  On the way back, we chatted over the wall to New Gran drinking outside the corner pub, about jubilee weekend antics and her recent birthday.  Having disappeared from her profile, I wasn’t sure of the exact date.

UK GDP stagnating, the OECD growth forecast dropped to 3.64% for 2022 and 0% for 2023. Minimum pricing in Scotland backfired as drinkers stinted on food to buy alcohol.  Was that what pub-goers round here did?  Network Rail contingency planning, the RMT said they were open to ‘meaningful discussions’.  Admitting a vacancy freeze, TfL insisted there’d be no redundancies or pension changes.  The WTO warned of a global food crisis due to the blockade.  The UN held talks in Turkey for a grain corridor and Russia demanded Ukraine removed mines first.

Shopping on Thursday, even reduced stuff was beyond budget.  I wasn’t surprised hard-up families skipped meals, according to charities.  I jested with My Mate at the till that Phil’s back problem conveniently meant he couldn’t carry shopping.  On the way back, 3 geese waddled down the road with a pair of adorable fluffy yellow goslings.  Unconsciously exclaiming ‘aww!’ I observed nobody else stopped to look – miserable gits!

Speaking in Blackpool, Boris maintained we couldn’t spend our way out of the cost of living crisis and higher wages would push up prices, leading to a 1970’s-style spiral of stagflation.  Unions decried abandonment of the high-wage, high-skilled economy pledge.  The latest wheeze to shore up support was extending ‘right to buy’.  Including housing associations, housing benefit could be used to pay off or apply for mortgages, with a ‘help to buy ISA’ – good luck saving a deposit on the crap interest rate!  He vowed a house would be built for everyone sold.  Not the 30,000 formerly promised, Keir cited a pilot in Small Heath where homes weren’t rebuilt as it cost more than what they sold for.  The re-hashed plans ‘baffling, unworkable and a dangerous gimmick’, Shelter’s Polly Neafe predicted we’d be “stuck in the same destructive cycle of selling off and knocking down 1,000s more social homes than get built.”  On QT, Psycho Bateman said every house sold meant a family off the waiting list.  Care4Calais, Detention Action and PCSU* asked the high court for an injunction to stop the first Rwanda flight.  Bonnie Prince Charlie called the policy ‘appalling’ and a caller to Jeremy Vine advocated unused boats intercept and process migrants in The Channel and blow them up!  The case lost, an appeal was due Monday.  Aslef drivers striking on different dates late June, TSSA balloted Avanti West Coast staff.  PAC criticised DHSC for burning unused PPE from the start of the pandemic.  Europe’s largest Spinosaurus was discovered on the Isle Of Wight.

Worried a headache presaged illness Friday morning, I minimised exercise and chores, posted a blog and managed an afternoon walk.  We crossed to the church garden where one gosling slept and the other hid beneath an adult’s wing, before heading up to woods and farmland (see Cool Places).  Coming back on the towpath, the Canal Dweller loudly declared he loved my Valley Life articles and a man resembling Dave Angel walked ahead of us, prompting a chorus of Moonlight Shadow.

Due to increased transmissibility of the 2 newest Omicron variants (BA.4 and BA.5), covid rates in England went up for the first time since April.  Unable to wait for council tax rebate cheques to clear, the hard-up queued to cash them at pawnbrokers, losing £15 if not turned away.  ONS found 52% used less domestic energy, 46%, bought less food and 40% made less non-essential car journeys – not such a bad thing.  Minister Heather Wheeler apologised for calling Birmingham and Blackpool godawful places, saying the comment didn’t reflect her actual views.

About to leave the house Saturday, a sudden downpour necessitated the anorak.  At the Crossings expo, we spoke to Drawing Teacher at the door and watched the photo slideshow.  Overlong with too many from organisers, Phil fidgeted as we waited for mine appear.  After seeing all but one, the laptop froze.  We left Drawing Teacher and co-volunteers fiddling with it.  The square packed with al fresco quaffers, I quipped: “the cost of living crisis biting hard!”  Phil said it felt ominous.  Did he mean the pub vibe?  No, the air.  Sure enough, another sharp shower descended.  Finding the cake I made last weekend mouldy, I sulked.  Phil fed the green stuff to crows and the pigeon squatters and bought one from the co-op to cheer me up.

Loud voices and a revving car woke me early Sunday.  Brekkie should’ve been a breeze but a splattered tomato, broken egg, blinding sun and a crashing lid stressed me out.  Phil came to the rescue.  I insisted we prioritise incomplete chores that he offered to do Thursday, then edited photos, added to the ‘spring animals’ Facebook album, made one of orange and pink flowers and watched telly.  Deciding we still liked Waterworld, we wondered if the film got panned 30 years ago because it was ahead of its time.

Commentators all agreeing everything was going to shit, CBI boss Tony Danker said households were going into recession this year; i.e., buying less shit.  Leaked before publication Monday, the food strategy contained vague words like ‘initiative’ and ‘liaison’ and no direct interventions such as sugar tax.  Getting us to eat venison was the only concrete idea.  Schools were ‘deeply disappointed’ at no extension of free meals.  22% of kids eligible, Julie McCulloch of the Assoc. of School and College Leaders said poverty affected closer to 30%.  McDonalds re-opened in Russia as Tasty: That’s It.  In the US, demos demanded gun law changes to stop the murder of kids and Google engineer Blake Lemoine claimed his AI Lamda was sentient.  It considered itself human and feared being turned off, comparing it to death.  Accused of anthropomorphism, Lemoine was suspended, but what if he was right?

Relaxation techniques failing to distract me from tummy ache, I slept fitfully and still felt iffy on Monday.  Hanging damp towels out in a breeze, neighbours sympathised with the travails of drying laundry in the unheated indoors.  Tired from activity, I dossed before posting the haiga and writing.  In the co-op later, I could hardly hear myself think – I’d forgotten how noisy it was after school!  Using leftover lentils to make surprisingly good pâté, we reminisced about hippy cafés and Phil posted a 1970’s-style art.

The UK economy shrank in April for the second month in a row, further risking recession.  The government blamed the negative -0.3% on covid recovery and extra spending.  As the Northern Ireland protocol bill was published, Boris went to wear a Hi-Viz and drive a tractor at a farm in Hayle, Cornwall and Micheal Teashop called it a new low point.  After all the palaver and whingeing last year, ALW sent a message to the last stage performance of Cinderella that it was a ‘costly mistake.’

After I wasted Tuesday morning applying hot water and defrosting spray to an ice lump in the fridge, Phil hacked it off.   Going to the garden, I tripped over the empty dustbin left at the front door and waited for the window cleaner to move his hose, snaking round the corner, so I could put the bin back.  I planted sprouted veg ends then attacked overgrown shrubs and creeping weeds.  Warmer than it looked from inside, I was about to give up with a hot thirst when Phil emerged wearing a jacket.  “Are you off somewhere?” “No.”  Realising it wasn’t cold, he took it off and helped sweep debris.  Yorkshire ostensibly the best place to see the full Strawberry Supermoon, it was so low here that it hid behind hills.

Wages fell 4.5% in the last quarter when 9% inflation was taken into account.  Unemployment was up slightly but vacancies reached a record 1.3 million.  8.8 million inactive due to older workers retiring early during the pandemic, Jon Ashworth accused ministers of ‘utter complacency’.  As persistent staff shortages fated airports to more chaos, DfT and CAA instructed airlines to cancel summer flights.  Which? told the commons business committee the industry and government must jointly shoulder blame.  Petrol at a record high 191.2p per litre, government pulled the plug on the electric car discount.  Losing their appeal, Detention Action and PCSU called sending people to Rwanda before a full judicial review in July ‘scandalous’ and the UN High Commission for Refugees said it was ‘all wrong’.  Judges assessing the move necessary to deter dangerous crossings could be construed as political.  Boris cited criticism from Charlie and CofE grandees and reproached lawyers representing migrants for ‘abetting’ criminal gangs.  Instead of the 100 deportations originally planned, Individual case hearings brought the figure down to 12, then 7 then 1.  The ECHR stepped in to completely ground the Tuesday night flight to Kigali, saying before establishing legitimacy, there was no legal route back.  Undeterred, Rwanda stood ready to welcome migrants and the UK started planning another flight.  Two refugees later claimed to have been beaten up and dragged to the plane.  Meanwhile, 440 arrived in dinghies.  Whitby council banned second homes and the unearthed Blue Peter time capsule from 1981 was opened live on This Morning to reveal a pile of slime – slime capsule!

Coronation Chicken Kiev

Haiga – Pasture-ised

The next day starting better than the last few, we made the twice-postponed trip to Shopping Town (see Cool Places 2iii).  A shame we missed PMQs, as data showing the UK had the second lowest growth rate globally with only Russia worse, Keir went on the attack.  He obviously took Rayner’s advice to ‘put more welly into it’!  Boris was rebuked for claiming labour were on the side of people traffickers.  Nasty Patel Believed the Rwanda plot was fully compliant with domestic and international obligations.  Disappointed and surprised by the ECHR decision, she blamed the ‘usual suspects’ and the opposition for thwarting her efforts against the willy of the people.  She told MPs prohibitions on flights to Kigali wasn’t an absolute bar and those ordered to be freed would be tagged while relocation was ‘progressed’.  Furious tories called for secession from the meddling ECHR.  Did they not know The Council of Europe was set up after WWII and had nowt to do with the EU?  And I bet they didn’t mind the ECHR intervening in the case of captured Brits fighting in the Donbas sentenced to death!  Yvette Coop called it ‘government by gimmick’.  Yep, gimmicks for gammons!  Lord Geidt resigned.  Not saying why in a short public statement, a letter to Boris disclosed later, indicated the final straw wasn’t Partygate but being asked to offer a view on government measures risking ‘a deliberate and purposeful breach of the ministerial code’.  Deemed to concern tariffs on Chinese steel, Phil thought it bogus.  A fortnight later, government extended the tariffs for 2 years, against WTO rules.  The EU triggered further legal action over the NI protocol.  Maros Sefcovic said the UK’s unilateral act had ‘no legal nor political justification’.  One of the biggest Anglo-Saxon burial sites was uncovered on the HS2 route.  At least some good came out of the glorified commuter line!

Cleaning the bedroom Thursday, Phil crawled under the bed to screw a detached leg in place, despite his back. After hoovering, I worked on the journal and pegged bedding out.  The Woman Next Door and a friend chatted on her doorstep then promptly went inside –  did they fear eavesdropping?  In the quiet co-op, my basket totalled just short to use a coupon.  The cashier let me grab one more thing for a low-cost shop.  I trudged home in blazing sun and persuaded Phil out to the garden.  Clearing another debris pile, we observed the myriad life including what he called springtails.  Sure they were to blame for my bites, he thought it unlikely as they were a kind of shrimp.  Fatigued and overheated again, I lay down.

Expecting GDP to drop by 0.3% this quarter, BOE sent a letter to Rishi stating the obvious on a succession of large economic shocks and raised the interest rate to 1.25%.  British Chambers of Commerce moaned it wouldn’t address the global causes of increased business costs and labour worried of the impact on families.  Shutting down ½ the rail network, Shats said strikes endangered thousands of jobs and promised legislation to enable the use of agency workers.  Unions said that was unsafe and recruitment firms fretted they’d be held responsible for putting temps crossing pickets in harm’s way.  On QT, the useless red wall tory said nowt and Thangam Debonnaire claimed the Rwanda ploy already wasn’t working as it didn’t deter dangerous channel crossings.  Former ethics adviser Alex Allen told Newscast failure to sack Patel wasn’t the reason he resigned but didn’t explain what was.  Sad his mate Geidt was put in a difficult position, he had no plans to re-apply for the post – currently on hold.

The laptop excruciatingly slow after a restart Friday, I didn’t get very far drafting blogs.  As I hung another load on the line, The Woman Next Door outside reading, remarked I was always washing.  “No; just making use of the good weather.”  We walked up to a hillside settlement, enjoying a picnic en route (See Cool Places) and returned via the predictably rammed town centre.  Boozing gammons deterred us from a pint.  Sweaty and smelly, I showered and lay down to rest.  Officially a heatwave, it was greyly muggy when I fetched the laundry in.  A dog-walking neighbour agreed it felt like it might rain – it didn’t; for almost a week.

The jubilee bank holiday was blamed for coronavirus spreading across the UK.  More hospitalisations but low ICU cases and death, total fatalities stood at 179,363.  Boris avoided a conference organised by red wall tories in Doncaster by going to Ukraine, prompting the moniker Chicken Kiev.  Newspaper ‘I’ aligned his calls to Vlod with dates bad news broke including Partygate and the confidence vote.  Paul Scuzzball said airport staff should work longer hours.  Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill knocked Harry Styles off number 1 thanks to Stranger Things.  Phil advocated burning a gannet colony infested with bird flu on Bass Rock.

Listening to music Saturday, Black Star made me sad.  Not because it was Bowie’s last album but because it was 6 years since the Brexit vote, Jo Cox’s murder, the death of Eldest Brother and Mum going into hospital.  I put something cheerier on, edited photos and went to the co-op, spotting a reduced chicken and an old pub mate for the third time in as many weeks after not doing so for years.  He did say that would keep happening!  Served by a young man at the kiosk, My Mate on the adjacent till stared into space.  Not bored, but having a moment.  A merc indicating to turn right stopped for me at the zebra and parked on the street below.  As I caught up, Councillor Friend got out.  “I didn’t recognise you in that posh car!”  It was her boss’, who lived in Spain.  She’d given it a run to go canvassing in sunny Wakefield (unlike the overcast upper valley).

Plans to tag migrants arriving by boat was condemned for treating those fleeing persecution as criminals. New ambassador for women’s health, Dame Lesley Regan wanted one-stop community hubs and new cost of living tsar David Buttress said private companies must help with rising prices.  Saying they did what they could, nice capitalist Richard Walker couldn’t increase wages but gave staff an ‘unprecedented’ 15% discount on Iceland products.

Although wobbly first thing Sunday, I arrived at the market slightly earlier than usual.  Stopping to chat with a neighbour untangling roots from a large pot, we had no idea why her normally friendly dog ferociously barked at me.  Besides knobbly veg, I found 2 books in the phone-box and bargain herbs in the convenience store.  After washing the filthy veg, I collapsed on the sofa to recover and write.

Told on Sunday Morning airline bosses said he didn’t know what he was talking about, Shats sniggered and side-stepped blame for opening and closing borders during the pandemic.  After accusing unions of bribing rail workers to strike, he took no responsibility even though he’d not spoken to them for a month, erroneously griped they’d gone on a demo instead of meeting bosses, refused to intervene, dismissed RMT calls for him to do so as a stunt and said there was no class war.  Keir reckoned he ‘fed off’ the division.  TSSA complained TOCs hadn’t shared plans to shut ticket offices.  New army boss Gen Sanders wrote to all soldiers that we needed an army ready to fight Russia.  Heatwaves saw 400C temperatures in Europe and monsoon floods killed at least 70 in Bangladesh.  US kids aged over 6 months ridiculously qualified for covid jabs.

Chilly after a cold night, Monday became warm and sunny.  I ignored a slight headache to strip the chicken carcass before putting food waste out.  B&B Man stood on the communal wall pegging sheets, hampering recycling bin access.  Still struggling after lunch, Phil suggested sitting in the sun.  I snapped back shopping needed doing and some help would be good.  He hung washing up while I went to the co-op for a heavy load and recovered with a cuppa outside.  Phil joined me the garden bench, made gazebo-like by overhanging freesia.  I lazily pulled at weeds and pruned, almost bumping into The Widower on his fourth walk-past.  I then attacked an overgrown buddleia on the adjacent steps.  Phil helped sweep before a doze amid the sounds of birds and bees, interrupted by Phil chuntering and Walking Friend’s hello, on her way to meet The Poet.  I sleepily lay on the bed and briefly nodded off with book in hand.  Phil sighing loudly in the evening, I asked what was up.  He wasn’t making enough money.  The war actually partly responsible for Shitterstock work drying up, he decided to give up the Leeds studio.  With hindsight, he could’ve done so ages ago but who knew things would be this shit 2 years on?  He rang the council next morning to arrange to vacate within 3 months.  Coronation Chicken was a couple of weeks late but made a delicious retro dinner.

2 million with long-covid, Kings College found 50% less chance from Omicron as opposed to Delta.  Sufferer Terence Burke won a case to be classed as disabled, clearing the way for an unfair dismissal claim.  Last ditch talks to avert strikes fruitless, Psycho Patrick Bateman defended Boris on Newsnight, calling rail practices Spanish and 19th century.  Still refusing to intervene, banging on about modernisation could be seen as incitement.  Halfords offered free bike hire.  Luggage piling up, Heathrow imposed a cap.  EasyJet cut summer flights by 10% and Ryanair promised rescue flights.  Their Stanstead base not as badly hit, O’Leary attributed ground staff shortages to Brexit.

Slightly more sleep led to a better start Tuesday.  A waning half-moon and sun blazing through the landing window, I wondered was it a solstice phenomenon?  English Heritage ludicrously placed netting on Stonehenge to bar nesting jackdaws.  We researched local standing stones for our own midsummer jaunt but went to a clough instead.  Even in the shade, we struggled with heat and dehydration (see Cool Places).

On the first day of the strike, Keir wrote to shadow ministers telling them not to join RMT picket lines.  Diane Abbot was one of several labour MPs to defy him.  A Cloudflare crash affected millions of coffee-cuppers working from home.  Metro reported on Londoners struggling to work on buses.  Lucky for them they weren’t Arriva, in the 3rd week of striking up north.  NEU to ballot teachers on possible industrial action in the autumn unless offered a pay rise above 3%, NHS, fire and postal workers could also strike, after new inflation figures Wednesday and Boris babbling about ‘staying the course’ but promising a return to triple lock pensions meaning a 9.1% increase.  Where was the parity?  Unite said ‘cost of living’ bonuses up to £3,000 offered to Lloyds and Rolls Royce staff, fell short of what was needed.

No Reasons To Be Cheerful

Haiga – High Summer

After lengthily cleaning the kitchen Wednesday, I collapsed on the sofa for PMQs.  Not answering a question on allegedly requesting an official appointment for Carrie, Boris wittered about high employment.  Keir wanted to know how many meetings ministers held to avert strikes?  An evasive PM insisted they were the party of the railways.  Keir answered the question – none – yet Boris had time to attend a lavish do and sell a £120,000 meeting.  To claims the government blamed everyone else, contradicted each other on pay rises and cuts, rolled over on banker’s bonuses and slashed nurses’ pay, Boris attacked picketing labour MPs and spouted the usual crud on taking tough decisions.

Hanging upstairs rugs on the line to expunge dust, The Widower happened to pass.  “Do you have a carpet-beater?” “Somewhere.”  While he looked, I used a telescopic duster and Phil used his fists.  The Widower not finding the beater, I said: “We’re improvising. Phil’s pretending it’s Boris Johnson, or any other tory of your choice!”  Old upholstery spray cleaner meant for cars was effective and quick-drying in the hot sun.  Refreshing with homemade pop, I greeted The Decorator backing into the last parking space.  The Woman Next Door then stopped right in front of us.  In the middle of doing stuff, I politely asked her not to.  She said she’d just unload and left the engine running, forcing me to move from the bench.  A lovely early evening, the sun briefly reached the nearer bench.  I sat with the Kindle watching news until the sun moved out of range and BBC London came on.  Planning mushroom pasta for dinner, 2/3 of a value box had gone fuzzy.  Not a bargain if you chucked most of them!  I thought substitute chilli was ample for 2 days but there wasn’t much left.  Phil denied being a greedy git.

NAO reckoned Ofgem added £94 to every household gas bill by letting weak suppliers into the market, leading to collapse.  After accusing the government of lying on Newsnight, Mick Lynch asked Carole Gammone on Jeremy Vine ‘what are you even saying?’  Quite!  She was in favour of the pensions rise as nobody could live on £250 a week.  They and me, lived on half that!  Only 50% of northern trains running between strike days, TSSA settled for an extra 7.2% but RMT talks broke down. Lynch said Shats wrecked negotiations ‘by not allowing Network Rail to withdraw their letter threatening redundancy for 2,900 of our members’.  Until the government unshackled them and TOCs, there’d be no settlement.  Delightfully-named Network Rail negotiator Tim Shovellor insisted the majority of job losses would come from ‘voluntary redundancy and natural wastage’.  Were his ancestors steam engine firemen?  A clause was hastily added to the Bill of Rights to ignore ECHR injunctions before Rabid Raab presented it to the commons (ref Rwanda).  Vaccine-derived polio virus detected in London sewers sparked a nationwide hunt for the culprit and calls for parents to get their sprogs immunised.  An Afghanistan earthquake killed 1,000.  The useless Taliban halted a search for survivors the next day.

Though warm and still Thursday, cloudy skies deterred me from painting windowsills.  Hefting shopping back from the co-op, I was startled by a dog behind a hippy van on the street below barking.  Not at me but Next-Door-But-One ahead of me on the steps.  Already nervy, my bad mood intensified when the handle on the so-called bag for life broke, tumbling loose mushrooms to the floor.  Rain came in the form of a light shower at siesta time, lulling me into a 15 minute snooze.

Brexit Day Cartoon

On the 2nd day of the rail strike, the local mill café owner whinged of no customers to Look North and Kwasi Modo said using agency staff wouldn’t undermine safety.  Unions disagreed.  BA check-in staff threatened peak season strikes at Heathrow if pay reductions made during covid restrictions weren’t reinstated.  Not even asking for an increase, bosses claimed some staff were offered the 10% back – yeah, managers! 

No bunting or parties to celebrate 6 years since the referendum results were declared, I turned off Newscast when Nasty Nigel appeared and found an apt cartoon for Brexit Island asking: how’s that going?  Meanwhile, the EU started a 10-year process to admit Ukraine.  A UK rise in racially-aggravated assault was attributed to Euro 2020.  Over the pond, Owen Diaz turned down $12m compensation for racism at Tesla.

Friday, I tackled the kitchen runner.  The spray ineffective, woven chickens re-appeared after applying liquid cleaner.  I went outside in sultry afternoon warmth before more rain came (fine drizzle rather than predicted yellow thunder, a distant rumble was heard) and hacked at rhododendron near the back wall, accidentally lopping off quince branches.  Resting was disturbed by Shed Boy and  mate communicating unintelligibly.

An estimated 23% rise on the previous week, 1:35 with covid worried health experts.  The unjabbed were urged to get one, the elderly to be boosted, and the infected to not spread it.  Imperial College found vaccines saved 19.8 million lives; in rich countries.  The tories lost by-elections in Wakefield to Labour and Tiverton where Lib Dems overturned a seismic 24,000 margin.  A ‘distressed and disappointed’ Oliver Dowdy resigned as party chair at 5.30 a.m.  Hobnobbing at CHOGM** in Kigali while Carrie and Camilla had a nice chat, Boris said he’d keep going and address concerns of voters who wanted him to get on with the job.  Err, no; they wanted you to jog on!  Dreadful Doris tweeted he faced the worst cost of living crisis since WW11.  Perhaps that was the one preceding Halo.  Reviewing the new Paramount+ series, Jeremy Vine queried why in futuristic sci-fi’s, the world was always a desert – duh!  National debt interest reached a record £7.6 billion.  Outgoing CBI chair Bilimoria advised tax cuts.  The US supreme court ended the constitutional right to abortion.  Pro-lifers rejoiced, others warned of back-street terminations and death.  Together with allowing gun-toting in the streets and coalpits to choke the air, The Trump might as well still be in charge.  A choked Amy Garcia announced the sudden death of former Look North colleague Harry Gration.

Shed Boy noisily scraping out weeds woke me early Saturday.  Inevitably followed by pressure washing, we’d wondered how long they’d let the joyful blooms flourish!  At The Great Get-Together in the park, we perused stalls, picked up worthy freebies and joked with Councillor Friend and her Partner that a unit of beer on alcohol measuring cups wasn’t even a ½ pint.  When did that happen?  Maybe the cup should be expandable or telescopic!  Not much for adults, no free cake left and music deafening, we headed to the quiet of a riverside bench and searched for fish, espying piles of rubbish instead.  Gusts of wind and spots of rain ominous, we went home along the canal.  At the river bridge, trout swam in the languorous shallows topped by car pollution.  Shed Boy sweeping up, I asked if he’d take detritus I’d cleared from the steps along with his stuff to the tip.  He said yes, if he got someone to take him.  Thanking him, I silently queried why he couldn’t use his own transport.  As the sun re-emerged, I topped up the binbags with more veg matter from the steps.

On Sunday Morning, Swiss Toni spouted the usual tory crap.  Sharon Graham called David Lammy refusing to support BA strikes a new low for labour.  Politics North extrapolated from the Wakefield by-election, most Yorkshire seats turning red.  The laptop inexplicably turning itself off overnight, I restarted to post my brother’s birthday card on Facebook and write a haiga.  Sewing the rest of the day made my fingers sore.

As Russia resumed bombing Kyiv, the G7 meeting in Bavaria put a price cap on their oil, banned their gold and joked about emulating Putin’s posing.  Putin advised working on themselves before baring all.  Boris bantered with Justin on who had the bigger plane.  Chris Bryant called his hubris deranged.  Prince Charlie accepting $3m cash donations in carrier bags from Qatar raised questions of undue influence.  A suspected terrorist attack killed 2 men in Oslo.  Pride events cancelled, some defiantly marched a couple of days later.

Barely able to keep my eyes open, it took a while to sleep and I woke after 2 hours feeling woozy and my Monday morning, I had pain across my forehead.  I managed to fetch the laptop to post the haiga and write in bed.  Depressed by debilitation, maybe it wasn’t such a surprise as I’d done many different things in the 6 weeks since the last bout, which was quite good-going.  Fetching my lunch, an empty cereal box balancing on the tray for the recycling pile, fell under my feet on the stairs.  Unable to move, I shouted for Phil’s help and fell back in bed exhausted.  He disposed of rubbish and went to the co-op for basics plus reduced ham.  Repose disturbed by the now daily ritual of geese in the street below, I looked out to see the growing goslings picking at moss between cobbles, as adults kept watch for cats and cars and Shed Girl tried to tempt them with grass for phone pics.

A recommended 15% rise in legal aid fees not implemented, barristers went on strike.  A juniors salary of £12,000 more like that of a barista, did they mix up the job descriptions?  Cruise missiles killed at least 20 when they hit a shopping centre in Kremenchuk.  Decrying a war crime, Vlod asked G7 for more defence systems.  In response to Russian aggression, relevant leaders went straight from Bavaria to Madrid to agree a boost to NATO’s Allied Reaction Force on the eastern flank.  Boris pledged UK military spending would increase to 2.5% of GDP by 2028.  In Westminster, the NI protocol bill passed the first commons vote and Dreadful Doris hosted a summit of broadband and mobile providers who made ‘stay connected’ pledges.  A man shot dead an Atlanta Subway worker over too much mayo on his butty and 48 migrants boiled to death in an abandoned truck outside San Antonio.  Another 2 later died in hospital and 3 men were arrested.

Rarely rising from my sickbed Tuesday, diggers beeping ‘stand clear’ and sirens screeching down the valley joined the squawking geese to hamper rest.  Phil catered.  His special omelette with ham, mushrooms and cheese was reminiscent of Greek holiday lunches!

2021 Census results showed the population in England and Wales grew 6%, less than expected, with 1:6 over 65.  Baroness Heather Hallett began the delayed Covid-19 public inquiry.  7,000 in hospital, Jeremy Vine and Storm both had covid.  Stand-ins asked was it time to reintroduce measures?  Nobody would take any notice!  Doctor Sarah advised face-masks in crowded places.  MP/barrister turned commentator Gerry Hayes said the court system had ‘fallen apart’ and the cabinet were spineless.  With ‘substantial and persistent concerns’ The Met were on special measures.  That didn’t stop 20 cops arresting Stop Brexit man Steve Bray, on the day the Police, Crime, Sentencing & Courts Act came into force.  BMA members urged to ‘channel their inner Mick Lynch’, it was hard to sympathise with GPs on £100k demanding an extra 30%.

After a bad night, I watched PMQs in bed Wednesday.  The Bumbler still galivanting, Rabid Raab faced Rayner in Kung Fu Panda heels.  Spouting the usual codswallop, he cheekily winked and jibed at her.  She asked, with Boris vowing to stay on until 2030, would the party prop him up that long?  Raab quipped he’d last longer than her leader to which she retorted, we couldn’t stomach him for 8 minutes, never mind 8 years.  She was closer to the truth, as it turned out.

Unexpectedly charged another month’s studio rent, Phil stopped the direct debit and headed for Leeds. I thought it’d do him good to feel active, but he was so skint I had to give him the train fare.  Seeing him off, the trellis strew the pavement again.  It wasn’t even windy!  I shooed him away and went out in my dressing gown to prop the dam thing up, glad the weather was slightly better than the previous two days.  Left to my own devices, I brooded on the dire financial situation to be interrupted by Phil phoning to ask if I needed anything from Wilkos.  I told him to get glue to fix a fragile old book I was reading.  Stocks so low customers asked were they closing down and a 9 week wait for supplies, was it from Ukraine?  Fuzzy from another short afternoon sleep, I juggled with dinner, irked when Phil rang from the return train.  Forgetting to eat and drink all day, he scoffed food and gulped liquids.  He’d made friends with a guy from an old Leeds rock band who took loads of the pesky furniture for his music studio.

After 6 months suspension on full pay, a written warning and a FPN for partying during lockdown, Sheffield council boss Kate Josephs apologised and returned to work.  Harriet Harman would lead the Privileges Committee investigation into Boris’ lies.

During a terrible night, external humming and brightness vied with the stupid flashing laptop.  Mediation led to fitful sleep.  Thus Thursday started badly.  Phil was also tired, from lugging furniture.  Off to Leeds again, I griped at lack of communication and not being told anything until reaching crisis point. “I didn’t want to worry you.”  No warning even more stressful, I asked: “Were you going to wait ‘til we were literally choosing between heating and eating?”  Considering options, he searched for local part-time jobs.  What the hell was a food production operative?  Depressed because he’d tried hard to make self-employment work, he declared himself a loser.  “No you’re not. You couldn’t know about covid or the war.”  I made him a butty to take, nipped out to peg fusty towels on the line and went back to bed.  Very warm, I opened the window as the racket which had plagued me since Monday abated and picked up the laptop when Phil called from Leeds, panicking he’d left an empty wheelie case in the park.  Irked I’d have to go for it, I saw it near the door and rang him back. “Sorry, my mind’s all over the place.” “Calm down,” I screamed ironically.  Mollified by an apology, I said at least he hadn’t lost the case.  Too jittery to write, I hoovered the bedroom and brought the towels in as a woman walked a beautiful shiny black Labrador ‘puppy in training’ past.

Chris The Pincher resigned as tory whip after getting pissed and groping men at the Carlton Club.  Labelled a Pound Shop Harvey Weinstein in 2017 by Alex Story, an official complaint and suspension from the party came the next day.  Piers Corbyn got a fine for organising the Trafalgar Square anti-lockdown demos.  An upgrade to the Trans-Pennine line between Huddersfield and Dewsbury was finally announced – already pretty good, what about the crap line we relied on?  Ukraine claimed to have re-taken the tiny but strategic Black Sea Snake Island.  Russia said they withdrew as a gesture of goodwill.  Unlikely to alleviate the grain crisis, nobody was jubilant.

* PCSU – Public Communications Service Union

**CHOGM – Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting

References:

i. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/

ii. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

iii. My Cool Places 2 blog:: https://wordpress.com/posts/hepdenerose2.wordpress.com

Part 93 – Ominous

”We’re in the most difficult, most uncertain time, perhaps of the whole pandemic, certainly since March 2020” (Jeremy Farrar)

Haiga – Enchanted

The laptop irritatingly noisy since Sunday evening, I delayed a restart until I’d posted blogs.  Opening mail, we giggled at auntie’s lovely Christmas card of Jesus and the holy virgin Mary.  I took recycling out, to be assailed by a keen icy wind then turned the laptop back on to work on the journal but as the racket returned, I fumed, developed head fug, wrapped Phil’s presents and rested.  He later sorted the issue, giving instructions for next time it happened.

Ravi Gupta called 12,000 Omicron cases a ‘really critical situation’.  On BBC Breakfast, Stephen Reicher cited polls showing 60% thought nightclubs should shut and while awaiting government action, curbed Christmas parties.  He advised not gathering before festive dinners: “The more we wait, the more we’ll have to do.”  The queen cancelled Christmas at Sandringham.  At a (not) emergency cabinet meeting, Witless and Vallance briefed ministers.  They considered options from limiting contact to curfews to full lockdown but imposed none.  A spokesperson said there was a balance between lives and livelihoods and Boris promised he wouldn’t hesitate if required.  “You already are!” I ranted  Some predicted lockdown #4 from 25th December.  The wuss wouldn’t dare do it at Christmas.  Rishi Rich not keen, Keir wanted plans to keep schools open and help hospitality businesses who demanded immediate support.  As images emerged of a Downing Street ‘garden party’ 15th May 2020, Rabid Raab insisted, it wasn’t a party as they wore suits; only a bit of cheese and wine ‘after a long day’.  Others declared it a work meeting and the garden a workplace.  Rachel Reeves called it unacceptable and Jo Goodman of Bereaved Families railed the ‘constant, flagrant disregard’ was exhausting,  Germany imposed a 2-week quarantine for UK travellers.  Utopia 56 brought a law suit against French and British coastguards for allowing 27 people to drown in a dinghy.  Allegedly not answering distress calls, police later watched more flimsy boats sail into the channel.  XR locked themselves together at the home office in Glasgow demanding an end to the ‘hostile environment policy towards migrants’.  New Chilean president Gabriel Bolic vowed to tackle poverty, inequality and climate change.

Tiny Yellow Plant

The winter solstice portentously fell on 21.12.21.  I went to the co-op for a sizeable shop so I didn’t have to go back later in the week.  Everything but chestnuts, I crossed to the organic shop for just enough of the extortionate things for actual Christmas dinner.  Getting head fug again in the afternoon, I abandoned writing, finalised the secret card (see ‘Snow Crows’ below) and selected images to adorn gifts.  Printing was hampered when the laptop declared the printer offline, the desktop was excruciatingly slow, and the colour ink already low!  I actually slept for a ½ half in the afternoon, woke groggy and rallied with coffee.  I’d just gone to the loo when there was a quiet rap at the door.  At a second one, I shouted and clattered down  the stairs so they didn’t disappear.  A young man from Community Carers bore gifts.  “I already got one. A card with wildflower seeds.” “Have another.”  The Festive bag contained a tiny yellow plant, crackers, mince pies, 2 small wrapped gifts and a card made by kids.  It really brightened an otherwise tedious day!

Transmission of Omicron ‘eye-wateringly high’, Jeremy Farrar of the Wellcome Foundation warned it was the most difficult and uncertain time of the whole pandemic.  But Paul Hunter said as people changed behaviour and workplaces ‘broke up’ (sic) for Christmas, the increase slowed, predictions of 10 million cases by New Year were unlikely, there was no need for lockdown and further restrictions would only delay illness and prolong impact on health services and wellbeing.  The highest number in Lambeth, 20 year olds were blamed.  Refusing to rule out extra measures before Christmas, Rishi announced more money for hospitality – £1bn included cash grants of up to £6,000 per premises, help with sick pay for SMEs and a £30m culture recovery fund for theatres and cinemas.  £150m would go to devolved administrations.  Later, Boris proclaimed we could go ahead with Christmas.  Prof. Reicher called the decision ‘unhinged’.  Rail operators cancelled trains because of staff sickness and isolation.  Problems were expected to last until 3rd January.  Wales banned spectators from sporting events.  This would also be the case in Scotland from Boxing Day where Hogmanay was off.  Extra money went to Yorkshire cities to ramp up the booster prog.  John Apter, chair of the Police Federation who spoke out against the ‘canteen culture’ of misogyny in the force, was suspended amidst sexual harassment claims.

Warning Signs

Red Dawn

Bitingly cold and grey, I awoke to an ominous red dawn Wednesday.  Unrested after a crap night, I managed a few exercises, fetched brekkie and worked on the journal before calling on Elderly Neighbours.  The Husband said they were delayed returning from hospital due to traffic Sunday evening, explaining the mystery of carers getting no reply.  They were with The Wife right now.  Glad she was home for Christmas, I asked him to convey our regards.  I hacked at greenery to bring in while Phil went mystery shopping.

Over 100,000 new cases, Boris was urged to outline a post-Christmas covid strategy.  Health minister Gillian Keegan banally said “we can’t predict what the data is going to tell us before we’ve got the data.”  Jon Ashworth responded: “People need to know where they stand. Businesses have got to make decisions about what stock to get in in the runup to new year’s eve…we’ve still got confusion.”  Tony Blair attacked the government for gambling and the unvaccinated for irresponsibility.  The requirement to self-isolate was reduced from 10 to 7 days with a proviso of negative LFTs on days 6 & 7.  Dr. Simon Clarke told Jeremy Vine cases fell because testing capacity was at saturation point rather than because they’d past the peak.  5-12 year olds could get a 1/3 dose of vaccine while 16-17 year olds could get boosted.  The WHO called for prioritisation of boosters to the vulnerable worldwide to address inequities.  On Channel 4 news, Catherine Smallwood said richer countries needed to stop buying them all up and do more to roll vaccines out globally.  the emergence of Omicron proved it was in their interests to do so.  Jonathan Chew who accosted Witless in June, appeared in court via video link wearing a dressing gown and claiming he had covid.  The judge called him cavalier to which Chew replied, ‘what does that mean?’  Was he thick or having a laugh?

A break in metro news from Thursday, I did the free puzzles and spent the rest of the day cleaning, posting cards to neighbours, sending greetings to Facebook friends and baking.  The puff pastry acted really weird. I used what I could to make sausage rolls then made mince pies, panicking when they stuck to the oven shelf.  Phil had popped to the shops again.  He returned to help free the pies, manipulate leftover pastry into cute stars and decorate the cake (see Yummy Cake below).

119,789 new cases, 2/3 of people in hospital hadn’t been vaccinated.  Covidiots begged for the jab when it was too late!  Based on early real-world data, UKHSA confirmed Omicron caused milder illness than Delta and boosters gave extra protection, but waned after 10 weeks.  Were we in for endless top-ups?  Homelessness Prevention Grants of £316 million were made available to local authorities.  Andy Bunman came on BBC breakfast to say the scheme in Manchester really helped the homeless and the government made the right decision not going into lockdown at Christmas.  I wasn’t sure his boss agreed.  Wholesale gas prices reached another record high, meaning domestic customers could pay 50% more next year.  Yikes!

Slightly iffy Friday, I perked up with echinacea.  After breakfast with apple stars, we prepped the bedroom for Phil to do my hair; a bit cramped but warmer than the South Pole.  I then hung a few final decorations, pre-cooked veg and took a pile of rubbish out.  Phil went secret shopping for a final time and wrapped my pressies, while I painted my nails, watched posh carols from Kings, and listened to Dvorak symphony no. 9 in E minor (the one with the Hovis song).  In the evening, we drank wine, watched films including the traditional Nightmare Before Christmas and marked midnight by munching celebrations.

A record 122,186 new cases, 1:35 Brits and 1:20 Londoners were infected.  But a mini-wave of first and second jabs was reported 15-21 December.  Lad Baby’s single achieved an historic 4th successive Yuletide number in the pop charts.

Blustery all night, Christmas Day started windy and grey. Our day began in customary fashion with more posh music, a delicious breakfast and gift-giving.  The Queen talked of a difficult year losing those close, the importance of celebrating the season, valuing what we had and looking forward to her platinum jubilee year.  The photo-montage studiously avoided snaps of Andrew, Harry & Megan.  Dinner a lot of effort despite the prep, I timed it for after Mary Poppins Returns.  Of course it wasn’t.  Gone 6 by the time the Lidl duck was cooked, it was very tasty.  We followed it with Prosecco, trifle, chocolates and Irish coffee.  Snow magically fell at 11.55, so sort of a white Christmas.  A shame it wasn’t the night before like on the telly!

Yummy Cake

The snow stuck but very grey, foggy and freezing, we stayed in Boxing Day.  I edited the journal and took photos of wintry scenes through the window.  Prettily fronted by money plant blooms, it provided haiga materiali .  Late afternoon, I felt really weird and almost fell asleep despite the coffee and yummy cake.  Tackling the duck carcass difficult, Phil came to the rescue.  I rested on the sofa and improved slightly to make stock.

Sitting down for dinner, Phil found his seat soaking wet. As he hurried off to change, I realised I’d spilt stock on the table and it’d dripped onto the chair. Afterwards he seemed cold with shock.  Apologising for the trauma, I cheered him up with tangerine faces on the trifle.

Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland all brought in new restrictions for hospitality and leisure, with limits on numbers and social-distancing.  Prominent deaths included Janice Long (Christmas day) and Desmond Tutu (Boxing Day).  A week of mourning for the Archbishop entailed bell-tolling and table mountain lit up in purple.  The EFL had decided to keep all premier league fixtures but no weekend Leeds game as 5 players tested positive for covid, Phil cried “Hurrah!”

Bank holiday Monday (confusingly also called Boxing Day), was foggy and cold after the snowmelt.  I switched on the bedroom telly for the 1954 version of A Star Is Born which predictably roused Phil.  Both feeling peculiar, we doubted it was the small amount of whiskey we’d drunk.  After posting blogs, I disposed of rubbish, giving me chance to nosey at new people in the house below.  Also visible through the kitchen window, net curtains were soon drawn but not before I eyed the heavy archaic furniture.  Were they family heirlooms?  Stunned from the excessively rich weekend food, I used the stock to make healthy soup adding leftover stuffing balls which I called ‘crumplings’.  I slept well for a few hours that night, only to wake early Tuesday with a sore throat and snotty nose.  I should have heeded the warning signs of the preceding days.

Boris met scientific advisers to go over the stats and decide on extra measures.  Subsequently ruling them out before the end of the year, Goblin Saj said they ‘wouldn’t hesitate’ (again!) and told us to celebrate NYE outdoors.  Labour demanded sight of the data informing the decision.  All over 12’s In New York had to be vaccinated to access indoor entertainment.

Prophet of Doom

Snow Crows

Definitely afflicted by classic sinusitis Tuesday, It didn’t bode well for the end of 2021.  Phil made porridge with water to conserve depleted milk supplies.  The glue-like softness eased my throat.  After bathing, I put PJs back on, made coffee and fetched the laptop.  Depressed and annoyed at being bedridden, especially as the temperature rose and it would have been nice to get outside, I killed time writing, compiled ‘Top Films 2021’ ii and slept briefly late afternoon.  Phil went to the co-op for basic supplies and catered.  At least the weather was crap Wednesday so we wouldn’t have gone to the carousel in Halifax anyway.  Warning his mushroom pasta dish might be different to mine, Phil’s version was decidedly more roux-ified.  He just couldn’t help channelling the great man.

Consequences of Christmas mixing not yet seen, new covid cases didn’t rise as much as last week.  Evidence emerged that Omicron led to less hospitalisations with ICU bed-occupancy well ‘below threshold’.  Even so, 10,500 hospital cases was an increase of 2,000 on the previous day with 1,300 daily admissions compared to 900 last week.  Doctors and chemists warned of a lack of tests due to increased demand.  The shortages threatened to render ‘key workers’ unable to work in hospitals and schools   Staff isolation impacting, Hopson said NHS providers redeployed staff to compensate.  Government continued to keep a ‘close eye’ on the data.  The Chinese space station twice avoided collision with Elon Musk’s junk.  A good job they had their eyes on!

Thursday, I was glad of Phil’s help changing sheets so I could rest in a clean bed.  It took me the rest of the day to finish cleaning the bedroom in small chunks and put old postcards he got me round the mirror.  Phil went shopping.  The butchers shut all week (who knew?) he bought a rather large lump of lamb from the co-op for the weekend.  In the evening, I tried to stay up to watch a telly film but had to go back upstairs halfway through.  I woke several times during the night, freaked out by weird curtain shadows.

Both disorientated by the darkness Friday morning, I had improved slightly and ditched the PJs for floppy clothes, but stayed mainly abed working on the laptop.  In anticipation of not being well enough to meet on her birthday, Phil framed prints for Walking Friend and I wrapped the gifts before lunch in bed.  We took turns prepping dinner in the afternoon but predictably it was me who ended up putting the joint in the oven meaning a long spell out of bed that evening.  Of course, the lamb took miles longer to cook than indicated and he managed to burn cabbage in the microwave but it was edible with lashings of gravy and mint sauce.  We drank pink cava, ate pudding and watched films, pausing when we heard fireworks to look out the window and see some above chimneys.  We switched to BBC 1 for the big bongs and Thames display entailing too much VR and an awful music melange.  Why couldn’t they put a nice symphony on instead of that ADHD stuff?   Very tired, we pathetically failed to even finish the wine before retiring.

40% of NHS staff off sick, 1:30 Brits were infected the week before Christmas.  On the warmest NYE on record, Trafalgar Square was cordoned off and Northern Ireland banned dancing.  “What’s new?” Guffawed Phil.  The Scots and Welsh were warned not to travel to England.  Able to walk across borders in some places, they probably wouldn’t be affected by the Cross Country trains strike.

Nostradamus’ predictions for 2022 included increasing food prices, droughts and floods, the rise of AI and cryptocurrency.  The corvids would have a laugh at that, unlike the end of November when they huddled in trees perturbed by the snow!

Still ailing on NYD, the top of my leg really hurt.  Over coffee in the living room, we tried to decipher an old map Phil got me.  18th century sat-nav was very hard to decipher!  I went back to bed, worked on the laptop and texted Walking Friend saying we might not be well enough to meet for her birthday and offered to take her out another time.  Not the most exciting start to 2022, we reminisced about new years of ages past.  I remembered one involving drugs, lots of whiskey, staying up until 6.00 a.m., rising at 4.00 p.m. and eating only a piece of bread.  He recalled another where we sat opposite the marina as it was getting light.  “I don’t remember that. But I’m not surprised; I must have drunk gallons if we were still out at that time!”

Cheers!

Later, we watched Death to 2022.  Not containing as many laughs as the prequel, it would have been funnier if it was focused on Britain rather than the USA.  Mind you, it was hard to satirise the years’ events.   On the eve of the grace period ending, there was absolutely no mention of it on mainstream media, civil servants were banned from using ‘the B word’ and The Bumbler omitted any mention of Northern Ireland and red tape, boasting of crown stamps on pint glasses.  Cheers!

Achiness persisting, at least my legs were less painful Sunday.  Sunny and warm first thing, Phil quizzed me on seeing Walking Friend.  Feeling harangued, I texted birthday greetings and suggested meeting for a drink later.  She predicted rain (correctly as it turned out) and wasn’t sure they’d be out long.  I invited her to call round for her gifts.  Almost on cue, a fine drizzle descended.  I brought the laptop down which was progress from staying abed.  I edited the journal and as I reminisced on the one short break of 2021, used an evocative photo of Ulverston Canal rolling bridge for a haiga.  We listened to the new Stranglers record I got Phil (good but old-mannish in places).  Thinking I heard a door knock, I saw no one and Phil said it was a crackle on the vinyl.  Then I noticed 2 missed texts off Walking Friend.  I rang to be told she’d knocked and gone home.  Truly sorry I missed her, I offered to take gifts up but she said come out Wednesday instead.

The Omicron wave over its peak in South Africa, a fire caused extensive damage to the parliament building.  Cyril called it devastating, but at least he was out of isolation.  The mutant expected to disrupt UK supply chains (nowt to do with Brexit!), ministers instructed the public sector to prepare for staff absences of up to 25%.  As secondary pupils were told to wear face-masks, teachers demanded more such as air cleaning units and help with testing to stop the cancellation of exams for a third year running.

Snowy Panorama

References:

i. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

ii. Top films 2021: https://maryc1000.blogspot.com

Part 81 – Hell on Earth

“This is the playbook we see from them every crisis. Deny there’s a problem, fail to plan, blame the public, blame someone else, then call in the army. It’s utter incompetence” (Luke Pollard)

Land of Fire

Fractures

Both fatigued Monday I struggled with the mundane chores. Putting recycling out, I was stressed out at almost being trapped against the wall by an inconsiderate UPS deliverer.  Posting the journal took hours and gave me a headache, compounded by sudden blinding sunlight streaming through the windows on a blustery day.  I came up with a new technique to make editing subsequent chapters quicker.  Still sunny early evening, I considered going out to the garden but depressed at no sun on that side, I gave up the idea: a shame since the rest of the week was wet and grey.

66% of adults now double-jabbed, the UK was catching up with Canada, Chile, Singapore, Italy, Belgium, Ireland, Spain and Portugal (at 84%).  In a hellish conference week for Keir, Andy McDonald resigned very publicly from the shadow cabinet.  Fuelled by the petrol crisis, tube travel increased 7%, bus 2%, and rail 6%, where flexi-tickets further incentivised passengers.  Amidst a plethora of idiotic acts, motorists stockpiled petrol, filled plastic bottles and bags to sell on Facebook, vandalised cars to syphon tanks and fought on forecourts.  A cyclist taunted queueing drivers and a cavalcade at a shut garage in Wimbledon created gridlock.  Care workers called for priority access to available stocks.  A mini tornado ripped through Thorngumbald and Humberston in East Yorkshire while an earthquake near Heraklion killed 1 and injured 20 in Crete.

Discussing fuel issues on Newsnight, Richard Walker said the temp visas effective from mid-October would make little difference.  As he mentioned voting for Brexit, I went off him.  Phil said “some nice people voted leave.” “Hmm!”  Michel Barnier promoted his long-awaited Secret Brexit Diaries in an interview.  Repeatedly wishing the UK well, he said we must face the consequences of leaving but the EU were ready to find solutions within the NI protocol framework (not outside of it); the conditions of which should be ‘no surprise’ as “Boris knew what he signed.”  He obviously didn’t!  Ahead of running for President, he called for a French referendum on immigration to ‘regain legal sovereignty’ on key issues, but maintained free movement within the EU wasn’t  at stake.

The headache returned Tuesday morning. I must have looked pained as Phil asked what was up. “It’s hard today” “I’ll have to shoot you.” “That’s helpful!” “What can I do?” “Be nice for a start!”  Rain arrived just in time for a trip to the co-op with the usual gaps on shelves  and nothing in the reduced section.

Boris met Covid-19 Bereaved Families for Justice, promising they’d have a role in the public inquiry and to appoint a chair by Christmas.  He also endorsed the memorial wall opposite parliament as a permanent national emblem.  The petrol situation improved slightly but pumps still under 50% full, the MOD approved ‘Operation Escalin’, putting the army on standby to step in for HGV drivers.  Phil pointed out they were all TAs so probably worked as drivers anyway.  BOE boss Andy Bailey derided comments about a lack of wind affecting the supply chain: “when is the plague of locusts due?” Luke Pollard said it illustrated the incompetence of the government.  South Eastern was stripped of its franchise and effectively nationalised, even though it paid back £25m of undeclared taxpayers money.  Aldi announced 100 new stores creating 2,000 jobs.  53 Insulate Britain protesters were released from custody despite the injunction.

Late telly-watching led to a bad night.  Unable to sleep, I looked out the window to see blazing lights.  Sifting through a jumble of stuff whizzing round my mind, concluded I was fed up with the mundanity of life but was devoid of ideas on how to change it.  I eventually dropped off to the meditation soundtrack.

Fire And Brimstone

Chasing Ducks

Feeling unrested Wednesday, I hoped Phil’s weekend hoovering would make cleaning the living room quick.  Sadly not.  On a showery afternoon, I went to town via the street below to avoid a crane at the mill development straddling our street.  German Friend stood on her doorstep and told me she’d taken tests to ensure her cold symptoms weren’t covid.  Prevaricating about going to work, I advised she look after herself.  After errands, I loitered at the wavy steps to be chased by ducks, mistaking the rustle of plastic bags for bread.  I escaped through the carpark and along to the new bridge.  New Gran sheltered under an awning of the corner pub, with her daughter and grandson.  The only drinkers outside, I called: “hello diehards!”  We chatted over the wall about the baby’s fulsome barnet, him being taken to gigs and mum’s graduation in Liverpool.  I’d arranged to meet Phil at the café and noticed he’d appeared on the other side of the busy main road, tricky to navigate.  Going in the café, I wore a mask; nobody else did.  Surprisingly busy, I wondered why they’d asked him to go at that time to take some prints away.  We retreated to the back until the owner returned from an errand.  He paid Phil for 2 sold pictures (at least 1 was Leeds-themed, belying the critics), dithered over which ones he wanted removed then decided they could all stay until the end of October.  “That was an easy work!” Phil giggled.  “Yes. I expected to be there at least long enough to take my anorak off. I even put a clean top on!” “Me too!”

Institute for Public Policy North found 3 times more deaths in the North East compared to the least-affected South East, since lockdown ended 19th July.  Blaming poor working and living conditions, the rift between north and south was stark.  Fended off hecklers by saying he usually got heckled by tories at PMQs on a Wednesday, Keir gave his first live keynote speech since becoming leader to mock The Bumbler: “we have a fuel crisis, a pay crisis, a goods crisis and a cost of living crisis all at the same time. Level up? You cannot even fuel up.”  He thought Boris wasn’t a bad man but a trivial showman, “a trickster who has performed his one trick.” i.e., Brexit.  He could have added Boris wanted to be PM for the sake of it: once he got the job, he had no idea it would involve actual work.  Not staying to sing the traditional Red Flag at the end of conference, we recalled it was banned under Blair.  Would the two side of the party ever be reconciled?  Might the die-hard lefties split and effectively leave a social democratic party of Nouveau Guardianistas?  Did someone say Gang of Four?

After bathing Thursday, I tried to remove a nail shard from my big toe, in the exact spot where a chiropodist had cut it too short 3 years ago,  I never returned after that.  I worked on the journal and went to the market in the cold rain.  Jolly veg man had price labels up, so over-charging was less likely.  In the afternoon, I started editing holiday notes for Cool Places 2, became knackered and lay down.  Characteristically unable to relax, at least I got warm in bed.  Phil re-surfaced sooner than normal, not snoozing for once.  “You’re lucky you can sleep in the afternoon.” “Not when I’m collapsing with fatigue.” “Makes no difference to me!”

On the last day of the furlough scheme, almost 1 million workers were still on it.  Heartless tory git Simon Clarke said job losses were ‘a part of the process’ of support ending.  Amidst mounting criticism of the Universal Credit cut, government announced a £500 million Household Support Fund, enabling councils to give grants to needy families.  Therese Coffee-cup said it would help meet “essential costs as we push through the last stages of our recovery from the pandemic.”  Rishi Rich surfaced in Selby to say it’d ‘make a real difference’.  But Helen Barnard of the Joseph Rowntree Foundation countered it didn’t come close “to meeting the scale of the challenge facing millions of families on low incomes as a cost of living crisis looms and our social security system is cut down to inadequate levels…(admitting) families will need to apply for emergency grants to meet the cost of basics like food and heating through winter, it’s clear the chancellor knows the damage (it) will cause.”  At Wayne Couzen’s 2-day sentencing hearing, gory details of Sarah Everard’s murder were summarised in court as: ‘deception, kidnap, rape, strangulation and fire’.  He was given a whole life sentence and would die in jail (and hopefully burn in hell if there was one).  Kate Wilson won her human rights case against the Met for being duped into a relationship with undercover cop Mark Kennedy aka Stone.

After 3 more unheard-of energy companies went bust, a reserve fleet of tankers headed to Yorkshire where petrol shortages were worst.  No surprise as 10% of the UK’s pollutants emanated from the county.  Rabid Raab suggested using ex-cons.  Now, what could go wrong there?  On Question Time, Useless George denied ‘turbulence in the supply chain’ was anything to do with Brexit, saying fuel demand up 50% last weekend, was now improving.  Karan Bilimaria of Cobra beer ‘felt sick’ by the shortages and said the government wouldn’t listen to the immigration advisory board or CBI months ago.  Ella Whelan, Spiked magazine, said there were long-standing problems of HGV drivers sleeping in cabs and peeing on the roadside.  Flight attendant-turned-reality star Amy Hart referred to short-term visas as unfair: “You can’t treat people that way.”  Useless said it would ensure driver capacity for the busy Christmas period, as too would 5,500 poultry workers.  Referring to the Couzens trial, Wes Streeting said changing the police culture of ‘letting things go’ needed action not words.  Amid renewed calls for Caressa Dick to resign, ex inspector Zoe Billingham was asked on BBC Breakfast next day why misogynists were allowed in the force to form WhatsApp groups and jokingly call colleagues ‘rapists’?  She maintained it was a small minority and she’d been working on it for 9 years.  It shouldn’t happen at all, you useless Coffee-cupper!  Met advice to women approached by lone officers such as flagging down a bus, running to a house or dialling 999 were lambasted as ‘derisory’.  North Yorks PCC Philip Allot advised women to be more streetwise about powers of arrest.  Flabbergasted by the insulting comments, we wondered how anybody was meant to know what the Coronavirus Laws were when Sarah Everard was kidnapped during the first lockdown.  Not even the police did, and arguably still didn’t!  Subsequent retraction of the comments didn’t stop Keir wanting Allot to resign or York MP Rachel Maskell calling his position ‘untenable’.

Tierra Del Fuego

Hell Heron

Friday still showery, at least we didn’t get a deluge like in other places.  Heavy rain caused flooding in Greater Manchester, commuter issues in London and delayed installation of a temporary TV mast in North Yorkshire.  More gales over the weekend prompted yellow warnings.  I did some writing and went to the co-op.  Phil caught me up in the last aisle to guffaw at ‘dots’ aka micro-doughnuts and empty freezer shelves.

We investigated recent dinosaur discoveries.  A week after a 165 million year old new Ankylosaur was found in Morocco, evidence of two more dinosaurs emerged on the Isle of Wight.  The 125 million year old carnivorous Riparovenator minerae and Ceratosuchops inferodios aka ‘Hell Heron’ attacked visitors, according to The Sun.  We wondered why on earth anyone would go there back then as an artist’s impression depicted the holiday hotspot as hell on earth.

New covid cases up 18% week on week, the sharpest rise in 11-15 year olds returning to school, rates were still lower than the second wave in January.  12 hours before the Scottish Covid Pass went live, the app was launched.  People complained of system errors but Sturgeon stuck to her guns and cited the 2-week grace period during which there’d be no prosecutions.  ONS figures showed economic growth 5.5% April to June, but only 0.1% in July.  Expectations for August were revised down to 2.1% because of supply chain problems.  H&M profits tripled, Boohoo sales increased 20%, the energy price cap went up and Virgin Money shut 31 branches as more people banked online during the pandemic.  Australia would lift the 18-month travel ban sometime in November when 80% of Aussies over 16 were fully vaccinated.  Qantas to start flights from Sydney to London and Los Angeles 14th November, no date was given for when we’d be welcome.

No improvement in the weekend weather, I stayed in Saturday and used a surplus of oats to make goodies.  Taking miles longer to bake than the recipes indicated, the cookies had soggy bottoms and the flapjacks were too sticky to remove from the tin.  “This is why I’m not a patisserie chef!“  Cold overnight, I slept badly and spent a fatigued Sunday draft-posting the journal, writing a haigai and posting ‘Views over Sands’ on Cool Places 2ii.  Phil registered for more gig work on ‘click jobs’ which sounded hilariously like ‘clickbait’.  Declaring it time, I fetched bedspreads out of storage for a toastier sleep.

In the South East, another injunction was granted to stop Insulate Britain protestors blocking major roads.  Petrol shortages now worse than Yorkshire, the army started deliveries from Hemel Hempstead while Watford Town went north to be beaten by Leeds United 1-0 (their first win of the season).  At the start of the tory party conference, Boris went to a Manchester gym sporting ridiculous boxing gloves emblazoned with ‘build back better’.  They’d had almost a decade to do that!  Setting the bar high (not), he told Andrew Marr Christmas would be better than last year.  The Bunman said The Glove-puppet was good for ‘levelling up’ as he got things done like with education.  Eh?  He made a right mess of that!  IDS wanted the cut to Universal Credit delayed but Gordy Brown wanted it scrapped, citing a report by York university on how it affected families.  The Joseph Rowntree Foundation found Bradford West hardest hit with 81% on the benefit.  Encouraged by the conviction of Wayne Couzens, a woman came forward to accuse a fellow Met officer of rape.  David Carrick strenuously denied all charges.  New fissures in the Cumbre Vieja volcano sent fresh rivers of fire across La Palma.  Maybe they should rename it Tierra Del Fuego.

Haiga – Barbed

References:

i. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

ii. My Cool Place 2 blog: https://wordpress.com/posts/hepdenerose2.wordpress.com

Part 69 – Winds of Change

“Every game, no matter the opposition, has the potential to create a lifelong memory for an England fan somewhere” (Gareth Southgate)

Sterling Summer

Starry Rotten Apple

Wobbly Monday morning, I could hardly lift my heavy limbs off the bed or focus my eyes.  I craved more sleep but nature called.  After crawling over the bed to open curtains, I looked upon grey mizzle and succumbed to the chronic fatigue – only for a couple of days this time.  I worked on the laptop until my eyes became blurry again and managed a few small chores with Phil’s help, legs aching as I ascended back upstairs.  After applying weeks ago, DVLA sent  a reminder to renew my license, a day before it arrived.  The ugly thing sported the old photo off my passport, a lurid union jack and mysterious symbols which Phil had to interpret.  But the hologram was clever.  Railing against coffee-cupper incompetence, I later discovered there were issues with unsafe covid practices and strikes at the Swansea office.

Needing extra veg to accompany leftover wartime roast for dinner, I was still wary of using the microwave even though Phil declared it fine.  Thinking a pile of tins on top made it overheat, he temporarily removed them.  They needed a better home but there was nowhere else to put them.  In the footie, Switzerland scored a stonking late goal.  The match went to extra time and penalties where they beat France 5-4.  Mbappe missing the last one, I observed they had some great players but a lot of prima donnas and didn’t play as a team.  A bit too exciting for that time of night, I went back to bed and watched boring Newsnight.  I fell asleep quickly but woke a couple of hours later to lie in a stupor sweating cobs.

PHE reckoned vaccines saved 27,000 lives and prevented 7m infections.  Prof. Matthew Snape of Oxford Uni and chief investigator in the Com-Cov trial found mixing AZ and Pfizer jabs gave a robust immune response.  In his first statement to The House as health sec, Goblin Saj said they were on course to lift restrictions by 19th July; it wasn’t the end of the line, but the start of an exciting new journey, no date came with no risk and we must learn to live with the virus.  The Bumbler went to Batley to idiotically pose in hi-viz and hard hat and claim credit for Cock’s resignation: “that’s why when I saw the story on Friday we had a new secretary of state in on Saturday.”   Downing Street officials contradicted his version of events saying he accepted Cock’s resignation after Saturday’s discussions.  Did he ever stop lying?  Angela Rayner said there were serious unanswered questions.  “A fish rots from the head down. And by failing to sack the former health secretary, Johnson proved he doesn’t have the leadership qualities or judgement required to be prime minister.”  As the PM denied ministers used private e-mails for official business, she brandished print-outs of the messages.  Amid concerns of the Delta variant, Portugal, Spain, Malta and Hong Kong imposed new restrictions on UK tourists.  A 14 day quarantine for Portugal except Madeira, was effective immediately,.   From Wednesday, Malta would only accept fully-vaccinated travellers and negative PCR test were needed to get into The Balearics, the same day they’d be added to the green list.  Hong Kong put the UK on a ‘very high risk’ list.  All direct flights were banned from Thursday as well as arrivals except residents and relatives.

Still mostly abed on a warm, sunny Tuesday, I ventured downstairs to watch the big telly at 5.  I felt more nervous than excited as along with 20 million fellow-viewers, we saw England face Germany.  In a goalless first half, 2 yellow cards were issued including to Kalvin Philips.  “He loves a tackle,” observed the commentator.  “Yes, that’s why he plays for Leeds!” I quipped.  Sterling broke the duck well into the second half, Muller missed by miles, then Kane came to life to clinch a 2-0 victory.  Boris watched the game with Carrie and moronically cheered then asked: ‘was that a goal?  Stick to rugger, posh boy!  Cue memes of him watching the Cock snog and ‘hands, face, bum’ captions.  In the post-match interview, Gareth Southgate was pleased they gave to joy to the nation but said it was all for nothing if they didn’t win the next games.  No it wasn’t!  You beat Germany!  The rollercoaster over, we both admitted thinking England would win but didn’t want to jinx it.  After all, they were a great team, Germany weren’t anymore and it was at Wembley.  Rome next for a quarter final against Ukraine (who beat Sweden in extra time), fans were warned not to travel – a 5-day quarantine meant they wouldn’t be free until Sunday.

After making crumble on Saturday, a few decaying apples remained.  I cut into them to see if any parts were edible to find one made an arty rotten star.  At half-time, I flung pieces from the doorstep for the crows.  One landed appropriately on the Christmas tree.  Enjoying the feel of a summer’s eve, I sat on the bench a while to absorb Vitamin D.  On going back inside, a sudden cold draft and distant thunder suggested storms a-coming. “Winds of change!” intoned Phil.  I was very sleepy after being up so long and hoped it augured well.  However, it took some time to drop off, and I again woke hot and sweaty in the night.

Gen Sir Nick Carter testing positive, other top commanders and Ben Wally self-isolated.  Cases rose in Scotland and they lifted the travel ban to the North West, after reviewing data and talking.  There’d been no deaths in Wales for a week.   With 5.1% of pupils absent, Goblin Saj looked at replacing bubbles with daily testing in schools.  The Salesman subsequently announced bubbles would be scrapped at the end of the summer term, coinciding with stage 4 of the roadmap.  Prof Finn claimed kids didn’t get ill much.  Yes, but they could still pass it on!  john Edmunds said recommending vaccines for kids needed careful consideration.  The Salesman also suggested ways to increase discipline such as banning mobile phones in classrooms.  Hockridge denied harassing Nick Watt because ‘traitor’ wasn’t an abusive term and accused the BBC of spreading fear and lies.  Australia imposed lockdowns on Sydney, Darwin, Perth and Brisbane.  Blame fell on the Delta variant leaking from poor air circulation in quarantine hotels and ‘weak border spots’ allowing workers to travel.  FRC* investigated Saffrey Champness and PWC audits of Greensill Capital and Weylands Bank.  The queen’s platinum jubilee do was billed as a ‘reopening ceremony for the UK’.  Bands, street theatre, circus acts and puppets would clog central London.

Head Wind

Bad Spelling

Feeling heavy again Wednesday morning, I crawled across the bed to open the curtains and slumped back down.  Another lovely day, I opened the window and tried not to be depressed at missing out, especially as we’d planned a rare daytrip by train.  We shared a laugh at Beverley Swivel-head arguing with Nina Guardian on Jeremy Vine.  Banging on about ivermectin, she claimed the anti-parasitic drug cured covid and referred to YouTube guidelines – because that was the best source of medical knowledge obs!

Phil worked downstairs while I sat on the bed rather than in it, worked on the journal and watched  PMQs.  Keir asked why The Bumbler hadn’t sacked The Cock immediately.  He replied there was a new health sec by Saturday.  Repeating this fact 4 times, he missed the point – it wasn’t about moving fast but taking the lead.  What did you have to do to get sacked?  Keir called it a ridiculous answer and persisted: did you sack The Cock or ask him to resign?  Boris deflected by saying Keir had fired and re-hired his own deputy.  Keir pressed the PM on Matt’s girlfriend also being his aide; according to his own guidance, he should challenge such obvious conflicts of interest.  Boris blathered.  Keir proceeding to reference people who’d died, Boris totally dismissed the question, saying he was concentrating on vaccines not the ‘Westminster Bubble’.  Was that the bubble he lived in?  Viewing sleaze as a ‘bubble story’ again showed what a bunch of hypocrites they were!  Keir suggested he retract the totally inappropriate response and asked him if he quizzed The Cock on breaking other rules.  Again getting no answer, he concluded ‘no questions asked Friday, no questions answered today’ and observed a pattern: Boris backed The Scumbag, The Jerk, Nasty Patel and now The Cock, reinforcing the message it was ‘one rule for them, another for everybody else’.

In the afternoon I sorted a backlog of phone photos.  Saved to umpteen locations, I connected it to the laptop to view folders which inevitably entailed a software update. Before dinner, Phil remarked “It’s nice out. I might go for a walk.”  Tempted, I rallied to join him for an evening stroll.  Spotting Walking Friend and her companion drinking at the corner pub, we chatted from the other side of the wall about my bright pink cardi, their hike to interesting stones further afield and mutual acquaintances. A fellow participant in the research project, he’d never set eyes on the researcher even though they lived in the same village.  We crossed to the canal and were accosted by a woman on the tea barge.  “Where did you get that colour?”  Thinking she meant the lurid cardi, she indicated my recently refreshed orange hair.  We proceeded into the park.  Teasels framed the football pitch where small groups of teenagers socialised.  Bright blooms sprouted from wildflower patches.  Badly-spelled graffiti raised a chuckle.  Over the lock bridge, we were hailed by drunkards.  Realising we knew them from pub days of yore, Phil joked “It’s the new local!”  Passing the co-op carpark, we ran into an ex-neighbour.  Now only living 5 minutes away, it was strange how little we saw her.  “You never know, maybe we’ll see each other in Corfu. Do you remember?” she asked.  I did indeed recall the encounter several years ago but doubted it would happen again in the near future.  Back home, I headed straight to the kitchen to make soup.  Annoyed at the lack of help, I told Phil: “I’m never doing an evening walk again, getting home knackered and hungry, if I get no help with dinner.”  “Sorry.”

A ‘levelling up’ survey revealed schools in deprived areas lost money to the better-off.  Deaths from covid 25% higher in Manchester, local health leaders said the wider issues of education, deprivation and housing needed to be addressed in childhood.  Overseas business leaders from amber list countries no longer had to go to quarantine hotels but had to isolate when not dealing.  Hospital cases rose to 1,525 with 245 on ventilators.  Still lots lower than the second peak in January, a PM spokesman told us the rise was expected and prepared for but Stephen Reicher warned of repeating last summer’s mistakes when the government suggested it was our patriotic duty to go to work and the pub.  If infections never got low enough to deal with later spikes, there’d be more lockdowns in autumn and a dismal winter: ”vaccination has made a huge difference, but the danger is, if we overstate it, and we over-rely on it…we undermine its good effects…so it’s belt and braces…it doesn’t mean you forget about everything else.”  He wanted more support for people self-isolating, improved ventilation and public health measures and a faster TIT system.  JCVI still not yet clear if it was necessary, early plans for autumn boosters were revealed: Stage 1 – the elderly, vulnerable, NHS and care staff (given with the flu jab). Stage 2 – over 50’s and over 18’s ‘at risk’.  The Counter Terrorism Operations Centre opened in West London.  The 328ft, 28 storey HQ was a revamp of the 1962 Empress State Building, complete with revolving restaurant.  Newsnight featured conspiracy theorist telegram groups, letting them air their cretinous views that coronavirus was a nefarious plot to implant us with tiny chips and de-populate the planet.  I failed to see the point of the package.

Stormy Thursday

The Wurst is Not Over

Better on Thursday, I did a few exercises and fetched brekkie.  Phil helped change the bed and left me to hoover until I got hot and tired.  I took the laptop down to work in the living room, hung sheets on the line and headed out.  The elderly woman, not distraught today, shouted down the street “lovely article!” referring to Valley Life which landed on doorsteps that morning.  Thanking her, I briefly told her about the picnic kerfuffle and hurried onto the market.  Town busy, shopping entailed a close encounter with a fat man at the toiletries stall (at least they were there) and the jolly veg man trying to overcharge me again (for the second time running).  On the way home, I went via the ironmongers in search of exterior paint to realise I had no mask.  I returned after lunch.  Not having the right sort of paint, I went to the site of a former decorating shop, forgetting it turned into an Asian grocers ages ago, and looked for the animal-loving vegan café on the same road.   Definitely closed as Phil had read on socials, I had no idea where the birds had gone.  Taking a short-cut between the back of 2 pubs, the narrow backstreet was lined with tables and chairs just like the Med!

Hot and tired, I dossed on the sofa before assessing garden furniture while Phil fetched wood planks from the attic to use for repairs.  Too big to fix the near bench, he went searching on the mill re-development site but got nowt.  Meanwhile, I removed dry rot.   He  asked if I had any anti-freeze from my car-owning days and found a full can.  No idea it could revitalise the dry slats, he informed me it’s what they used on the Mary Rose.  Sometimes random knowledge comes in handy.  The woman next door seemed impressed too,  We then scraped peeling varnish off the far bench and applied wood stain.  Decorating neighbour came by and congratulated us on doing it right.  Overheating again, we retreated indoors for Magnums and coffee.

26,068 news cases were found in England, over 3,00 in Scotland; 2,00 traced to the Euros and 1,294 caused by Scots fans going to the derby in London.  WHO estimated the footie led to global cases rising 10%.  Germany complained of irresponsibly large crowds at venues like Wembley.  TV doctors listed new symptoms associated with the variant.  Suffering most of them every day, should I worry?  Did I have long-covid?

1st July marked the first day of the second half of the year and the cut-off for EU citizens who’d failed to navigate the complicated system, to be able to stay in the UK.  Furlough would start tapering off, the business rates holiday would end, and VAT and stamp duty would rise. Gary Smith of GMB cried: “Ministers are seriously misguided if they think we can suddenly revert to business as usual.” A record 6,000 migrants crossing the English Channel since 1st January, charities accused government of creating a ‘people smuggler’s dream’ in a quest to build ‘Fortress Britain’.  In Sunderland, Nissan built a new electric car and a huge battery plant, with financial support from The Treasury.  Boris went to wear a stupid silver racing jacket labelled PM and hinted some restrictions might stay after 19th July.  After a vicious by-election campaign involving the odious George Galloway and canvassers requiring police protection due to harassment and egging, labour clung onto Batley & Spen by a shrunken majority of 323.  The leftie vote split by The Workers Party (closely aligned to CPGP), tories allegedly defected over The Cock affair and silence on dirty tactics.  Kim Leadbeater claimed it was a vote of hope over division. Vegan poet Benjamin Zephaniah noted he was the only anarchist ever invited onto the QT panel and said we couldn’t go back to normal as that was what caused the pandemic in the first place  i.e., eating animals.

Still achy but much less fatigued on Friday, I researched HQ Creative Industries lab mentioned in Metro.   This division of Harper Collins aimed to support under-represented groups.  Thinking I had a chance of qualifying as socio-economically disadvantaged, I flicked through some of my old writing for submission ideasi.  After shopping and lunch, I applied another layer of anti-freeze on the near bench but thought varnishing a bit chancy with leaden skies.  Next door’s gardener introduced herself and remarked on the restoration project.  “I learnt the hard way that it’s much better to rehydrate dry wood rather than slap paint on. It just peels off again.”  Discussing recent lack of rain and the challenges of growing plants in the South Pennines, she kindly offered to expunge some of our creeping buttercup and crocosmia.  As a prelude to the evening’s footie, I read ‘Dear England’ by Gareth Southgate.  I agreed with Phil it was rather goodii.  In the first quarter-final of Euro 2020, Switzerland and Spain drew 1 all.  As a Swiss player was sent off, Phil said it would be easy for Spain.  They did win but only after extra time and a scrappy penalty shoot-out.  They’d face Italy in the semi next week.  After films, we watched an episode of Apparitions.  Not sure how we missed it when it was on normal telly, Phil assured me the exorcism details were quite accurate.

Estate agent Lewis Hughes was charged with common assault on Chris Witless and lost his job.  UK cases of the Delta variant quadrupled in less than a month and rose 46% in a week.  The day of the launch of the EU Digital Covid Certificate, it turned out the EMA hadn’t yet approved the Indian Covishield version of Astra-Zeneca meaning those jabbed with it couldn’t go to Europe.  The batch numbers matching our first dose, it was just as well we were resigned to not going abroad this year.  Boris played down the issue and an expert called it an admin error that should be quickly resolved.  Banger wars averted for 2 months, a long-term solution to the Northern Ireland protocol was still needed.  The Merkel meeting The Bumbler at Chequers, was optimistic ‘pragmatic solutions’ could be brokered.  Was the wurst behind us?  I thought not.  She said double-vaccinated Brits would be welcome in ‘the foreseeable future’ without quarantine but repeated concerns about Wembley crowds.  Popular German brand Haribo struggled to get sweets to Britain.  30,000 delayed HGV tests and drivers returning to their home countries after Brexit led to a shortage of hauliers.  Sales were up at Primark, JB Sports and Revolution bars (originating in my home town).

Thunder Head

Haiga – The Beautiful Game

Mostly grey on Saturday, I stayed home, draft-posted the journal, spent ages getting rid of cobwebs behind kitchen cupboards and took recycling out in a bright spell as lesser-seen neighbours came by.  They told me they were moving to Barnard Castle, because you couldn’t buy white goods here anymore.  It takes all sorts!  Having moaned their huge garden was too much work now he’d retired, he then made a snooty comment about our tiny garden.  Knowing them slightly from a dance class a few years ago, I never knew they were so snobby!  Phil went shopping in town.  Not too busy, we guessed everyone was saving themselves to go mad during the footie later even though he only spotted 1 pub with a telly.  Dinner not quite ready before the game, we watched the first few minutes on the kindle while eating, but still managed to miss the first goal due to a delay.  England beat Ukraine by a stunning 4-0.  More fans than expected in Rome, they were allegedly expats.  We suspected some got there in roundabout ways.  The next game would be a semi-final against Denmark at Wembley.  Phil quiet all night, a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder prompted him to confess he’d suffered from the air pressure.  “Aah! Thunder head!”  Alas, the downpour didn’t follow and his migraine persisted.

Sunday breakfast was hampered by clutter and mouldy bread making me stressed and panicky.  Phil characteristically arrived the moment I’d done it all.  Sick of food waste, I vowed not to use recycled bags ever again.  A flash of lightning and a loud thunderbolt this time presaged a massive thunderstorm.  Phil had thunder head again and bad hand cramp.  Feeling disabled, he persisted in working on the computer.  Photographer friend posted on Facebook that her studio was flooded but I saw reports of nothing elsewhere.  I wrote a haiga with a topical football themeiii and tagged the journal.  Mistakenly adding a whole paragraph, I found a quicker way of editing tags and spent all day on it.

According to a React 2 study, long-covid affected 2 million people.  On the Marr, Stephen Powis said it encompassed a range of symptoms, clinics were treating them, and kids got it even if they hadn’t been very ill with the virus itself.  Rachel Reeves came on to say ‘The Science’ a lot and that the government needed to present evidence to parliament instead of to the press.  She agreed with Stephen that not sorting out social care put pressure on the NHS and accused Boris of ‘neglect and failure.  IDS and 5 other ex-chancellors wanted the extra £20 on UC to stay.  I agreed, but it was rich coming from the guy who invented it!  After an EU summit and a week in isolation with covid, Luxembourg PM Xavier Bettel went to hospital.

* Financial Reporting Council

References:

i. HQ Creative Industries lab  https://harpercollins.co.uk/pages/hqcil

ii. Dear England by Gareth Southgate: https://www.theplayerstribune.com/posts/dear-england-gareth-southgate-euros-soccer

iii. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

Part 56 – Whitewash and Sleaze

“Comments about the slave trade being a ‘Caribbean experience’, as though it’s some kind of holiday… (is) completely out of kilter with where British society is” (Halima Begum)

Coming Unstuck

Mythical Stone

A return of the stiff neck made it hard to get going Monday morning. However, I persevered with exercise, blogging and chores.  Taking the recycling out, I exchanged pleasantries with neighbours.  The young mum in the next terrace was in the community garden.  I complemented her efforts to clear it up after 2 years of neglect.  A woman from across the street joined me at the bins, commenting on the strong wind.  I agreed it was rather blustery in spite of the sunshine.  As the wind dropped mid-afternoon, I pottered in the garden.  Three old pals I didn’t know were mutually acquainted, came walking past.  We compared thoughts on coping with lockdowns, vaccines and the self-entitled government.  “We’ll never get rid of them now!” we concurred.  In the evening, an Ocado delivery arrived bang on time.  It was good to be able to return carrier bags but they gave me a ridiculous number back, including 2 containing 1 item each!

The Daily Plague briefing was broadcast from the new press office, complete with union flags.  Pat Valance presented data showing a drop in Covid hospitalisations from 30 to 6 per 100,000.  The ‘stay at home order’ for England was replaced by ‘stay local’.  We could meet in groups of 6 and do sport outdoors.  Cock didn’t rule out foreign travel in summer even though he’d already booked his UK holiday.  Scientists weren’t keen.  Prof. Dame Anne Johnson, UCL said: “I’m for staycations.”  Prof. Sir Mark Walport of UKRI* intoned: “the numbers (in Europe) speak for themselves.”  A Panorama report on the Milton Keynes Lighthouse mega-lab discovered PCR tests in a gloopy mess.  Belying predictions it would be there for weeks, the Ever Given came unstuck from the mud thus unblocking the Suez Canal..  Nevertheless, they’re gonna need a bigger canal!

The thermometer reached 25 Celsius, making Tuesday officially the hottest March day since 1968.  Struggling to come round, I took it slow with gentle exercise and a bath before we set off on a rare trip to the nearest moor, via town for pasties from the bakers and to catch a bus up.  Although we’d not visited for some years, we remembered the route and soon reached the ridge dotted with mysterious archaeology.  Sitting near a standing stone to eat our pasties, huge sheep approached and stared us out so we didn’t linger.  After exploring the landscape, we were fairly certain of the way down but double-checked with an energetic-looking couple striding along.  When it looked like our path was barred, Phil insisted we had to climb further up.  As we huffed and puffed, a Tornado jet came so close I ducked!  I then spotted a jogger jumping a stile below and gleefully headed down the slope.  As we reached the road, a bus sped past.  We continued down to the country inn, looked into a friend’s garden to see if she was home and fell into conversation with the couple we’d seen on the moor.  It turned out they now ran the inn and gave some gen on arrangements for re-opening and using the erstwhile pig field for extra outdoor seating.  On telling us where the pigs had gone, we said “They’ve probably been turned into sausages!”  Very thirsty, we squatted on the wall opposite to drink from our bottles.

“Is this the right place for the bus?”  asked Phil.  “No. I don’t know when the next one is. We can go up to the corner if you want.”  At that moment, one trundled along the road.  “Shit!”  We gathered our stuff and tried to run but it was useless.  Moodily, we walked down.  In spite of being tired, dehydrated and at risk of heatstroke, we quickly reached town.  An old biker we knew drank tinnies with a mate near the closed market.  He asked us for prints of photos we’d taken of his barge adornments the other week.

After a  quick call to the convenience store, we wearily trudged home.  My bad ankle had been playing up on the tussocky moors and I subsequently developed sharp knee pains. Still in a huff, Phil blamed me for missing the even though I didn’t know the times back.  I made a mental note to check next time so we didn’t come unstuck.  (for a fuller description of the walk, see Cool Placesi).

That night, I dreamt we went on holiday to a gammon hotel where I had swimsuit dilemmas.  I took it as a message to check my old ones still fit.  Having lost weight in the 2 years since I last wore one, I could come unstuck in the pool!

A Nice Day for a Whitewash

Black and White Blossom

The milestone of 150,000 Covid deaths in the UK, actually reached 18th March, was only just released by the ONS due to a ‘data lag’.  However, half the population now had antibodies.  A much-anticipated WHO report on the origin of the Wuhan outbreak concluded the virus most likely jumped from bats to another animal, but didn’t specify the pangolin.  To guard against global supply issues, Novavax would be processed in County Durham, while 24 countries committed to the idea of a treaty for the next pandemic, based on WHO principles.  China and the USA notably absent, Dr. Tedros expected all to sign up during negotiations.  The Met unsurprisingly exonerated after an investigation by the police into the Clapham Common debacle, they admitted it was a PR disaster.  The report revealed 1,500 anti-lockdowners turned up at the vigil including Piers Corbyn.  Brexit pub chain Wetherspoons planned to invest £145m on new pubs and upgrades after lockdown, including Newport Pagnell.  Was there anything there apart from a motorway service station?  Melvin Bean was adamant the Leeds festival would go ahead: “I’m  taking the PM at his word.”  We’ll see about that, Mr. Bean!

Achy after Tuesday’s walk, we stayed round the house on Wednesday.  Warm with sunny spells, it was a nice day to hang washing on the line, which I did for the first time this year.  After lunch, I got stuck trying to come up with titles for the next journal entry, developed head fug and had to stop.  Looking grimy in sunlight, we dusted the living room and Phil fetched the analogue clock down from behind the telly to get it going again.  Stopped for months, it was strange to hear the tick again.  I arranged some twigs to hang Eastern European eggs on and placed mad chickens round the hearth.

The number of second jabs given in a day exceeded first doses.  How long immunity lasted, the chances of re-infection and the impact of variants, were all still unclear.  However, scientists said the vaccine provided ‘optimal chance’ of effective anti-bodies.  Germany allowed use of AZ on over 60’s only while Macron apparently ignored scientists, considering himself an ‘expert’.  Spain announced that masks were required on all beaches throughout the country (count me out!)  UK citizens wasted no time enjoying the spring heatwave, descending on public spaces and leaving piles of litter in their wake.  Councils closed parks.  Launching on the LSE, Deliveroo shares tanked by 30%.  Leading fund managers such as Legal & General and Aviva rejected the listing over issues with the company’s business model, workers’ rights and regulatory concerns.  A scrap metal yard fire in Sheffield would rage for days.  How on earth did metal set ablaze?

The Commission for Race and Ethnic Disparities (Crud) report led by Tony Sewage, was a complete whitewash.  It found the UK was an integrated society with no institutional racism and the system not rigged against minorities.  No surprise with the Crud team hand-picked by fellow denier Munira Mirza.  Among its recommendations were increased scrutiny of police footage of stop and search, more ethnic minority recruits and training.  Roundly condemned, Halima Begum of Runnymede Trust railed: “Frankly, by denying the evidence of institutional racism and tinkering with issues like unconscious bias training and use of the term ‘BAME’…they’ve insulted every ethnic minority in this country – the people who continue to experience racism on a daily basis.”  She added: “comments about the slave trade being a ‘Caribbean experience’, as though it’s some kind of holiday… (is) completely out of kilter with where British society is.”  Dr. Sewage responded that suggesting the report was “trying to downplay the evil of the slave trade (was) absurd.”

Labour said the conclusions were a ‘divisive polemic’ and downplayed institutional racism.  Unions called it ‘deeply cynical’ and said it denied black workers’ experiences.  NHS providers claimed there was ‘clear and unmistakable’ evidence that minority ethnic staff had worse experiences and faced more barriers than whites and that denying links between structural racism and health inequalities was ‘damaging.’  They demanded concrete action to tackle bias and discrimination across public services.  Sam Kasumo resigned as a top government ethnic minority adviser; Downing Street of course downplayed  a connection.

No Jokes, Sleaze; We’re British

Pussy Willow

The Guardian’s report of building another Suez Canal sounded like a great idea.  We had visions of a holiday pootling about on small boats while container ships used the bigger one.  Alas, it was an April Fool’s joke.  The weather was no joke.  Grey and cold, a nithering easterly made it feel like winter again.  I hurried to town where pussy willow hung over steely waters near the old bridge.  The market packed with wandering hippies and not distanced gammons, I waited ages at the fish van and almost kicked a wanker behind in the queue as he edged uncomfortably close.  At the toiletries stall, a woman gassed to the stallholders, making paying awkward.  On the way home, I paused to take pictures of a beautiful white cherry tree in the carpark.  A passing old man smiled at me: “Isn’t it lovely!”  “Yes, but I’m not sure it’ll come out on my photos.”  Actually, they weren’t too bad and leant themselves to monochrome rather well (see above).  Working on the journal, I came up with headings and declared the first draft done at long last.  I experienced another odd night, struggling to get to sleep for ages and then waking very early.

Mainly immunised, vulnerable groups no longer needed to shield.  A BMJ report found only 1 in 5 people with symptoms requested a test, and the effect of TIT ‘limited’.  Matt Cock was ‘very worried’ that 13.7% of those affected by the virus had long Covid.  Layla Moran said it should be treated as an occupational disease and appropriate support given.  Vaccine hesitancy dropped from 44% to 22% among ethnic minorities in spite of claims it broke upcoming Ramadan fasting rules (it didn’t); possibly thanks to campaigning by Lenny Henry and other celebs.  France shut down schools, shops and non-local travel.  Brazil borrowed £665m for vaccines and health care.  Trials in the USA declared the Pfizer inoculation 100% effective on 12-15 year olds.  It was later found equally effective in South Africa and to prompt a huge immune response on all variants.

Liberty Steel boss Sanjeev Gupta insisted he wasn’t closing plants.  Owing billions to now-failed Greensill Capital, he was refused a government loan – they reportedly hadn’t ruled out nationalisation.  Links to David Cameron emerged.  Lex Greensill acted as an adviser to the former PM and subsequently, Cameron worked for Greensill, lobbying for Covid contracts on his behalf.  The Office of Registrar of Consultant Lobbyists cleared him of wrongdoing because as an employee, it didn’t formally constitute lobbying.  Labour’s Dodds and Reeves repeated demands for an inquiry.  In the olden days, we called that type of thing sleaze.

Easter in White

Easter White Cherry by Phil Openshaw

Good Friday started cool but as the sun re-appeared, became much nicer than forecast.  I failed to sleep in to make up for crappy nights and did free puzzles provided by Metro in lieu of news.  No Pace Egg play for the second year running, Phil declared it a normal workday and was kept busy for much of it (strangely,  a lot of gig work seemed to come on a Friday). Concocting a slightly different version of Aussie chocolate fruit cake, I almost forgot to add eggs and made a right mess spooning the gloopy batter out of the tin to re-mix it.  But it turned out okay.  While it was baking, I worked on a very slow computer, had coffee and stuffed a fig roll in my gob when there was a knock at the door.  A volunteer from the local covid support group stood outside with an Easter treat bag of yellow and white daffodils, a chocolate egg and a cute card courtesy of school kids.  How nice!  Expressing thanks, I apologised for talking with my mouth full.  “That’s alright. Fig rolls are my favourite.”  “Sorry, it’s my last one.  If I’d known you were coming…”  “You’d have baked a cake.”  “I’ve got one in the oven right now. Come back later!”  I wrote up Tuesday’s walk for Cool Places and watched a suitably seasonal film.  King of Kings was now so ubiquitous I could recite the dialogue.  Phil cut his hair and cleaned the bathroom while I coated the cake with chocolate, properly melted this time,  buttons, jazzies and mini eggs.  On sampling, I asked Phil how it compared to the one I made for his birthday “I like marzipan.”  Hmm!

As the Scottish ‘stay at home’ order was replaced by ‘stay local’. National Clinical Director Jason Leitch rambled on BBC Breakfast about the different rules of the 4 nations and dithered over answers on when we could travel freely around the UK.  It was no surprise the so-called expert struggled with a maze of regulations across the UK.  In Scotland, 4 people from 2 households could meet, outdoor non-contact sport, group exercise and communal worship (by up to 50) was already allowed.  In Wales, the ‘stay local’ order was lifted on 27th March permitting travel across Wales for the Welsh only, 4 people from 2 households were already allowed to meet and outdoor sports facilities had been open since 13th March.  In Northern Ireland, 6 people from 2 households could meet outdoors and 10 from no more than 2 households could do outdoor sport (including golf but not go into club houses).  I doubted the Belfast rioters took any notice.

3 p.m. by the time I’d finished a series of niggly jobs Saturday, I felt glum being stuck indoors.  For the second day running, it was much sunnier and warmer than expected, although some areas did experience a white Easter.  At least I caught a some rays with a trip the co-op.  As I headed back, Phil headed out to the convenience store.  Differing requirements meant we’d had to split the shopping which irked me until he returned with an armful of roses!.  It prompted us to finish cleaning the living room to make room for a vase and more mad chickens.  Afternoon telly dreadful, we listened to music instead.  I finally finished the Easter card I’d made him, but had a right faff printing it out.

Bunting for Jesus

Sunday started badly with a coffee pot disaster.  The plunger of the cafetiere fell apart, promptly sinking into the hot liquid.  What a palaver!  Thankfully, Phil came to the rescue.  Things improved as we exchanged gifts.  I gave him the homemade card and an egg containing a mini bunny.  On top of the roses, he’d got me prosecco truffles and made me a digital art.  ‘Easter White Cherry’ represented a much better version of the blossom in the carpark than I’d managed.  Early sun consumed by cloud, we ventured out regardless to pursue Phil’s mission to photograph more blossom.

Out on the street, a young neighbour washed his car after it got egged by kids.  “The only egg I’ve had,” he wailed, “but I was a little bastard myself once.”  “Well,” I observed, “there’s not much entertainment at the moment. They have to make their own.”

We crossed the main road, amused by bunting hanging in the Methodist church’s garden.  “It was only a matter of time before Jesus and the egg came together,” Laughed Phil.  Climbing above the canal, we espied angry geese chasing an interloper, a disturbing leprechaun effigy and a family trying to navigate ruined houses.  Further up, a woman and girl looked for a celeb grave.  “You’re on the wrong side of the valley.”  As I gave directions, their dog barked ferociously and strained at the leash at the sight of a cat.  Grateful it was on a lead, we continued to find colourful spring flowers, blossom and fencing.  A group chatting took up the pavement and half the road, forcing us to cross.  Descending near the station, the catkins of a tree growing out of a wall turned from furry to fuzzy.  In the park, a delighted family posed below cherry trees.  “They’ll be on Insta pretending they’re in Japan rather than West Yorkshire!” I joked.   The delicate petals waved about in gusty draughts, making them very difficult to photograph.  Phil berated himself: “what a stupid day to suggest a blossom mission. I might come back on a less windy day.” “You’d better be quick. It doesn’t last long.”  In front of the café, families picnicked very close to the path as a large line snaked towards the serving hatch.  We popped in the town centre shop, warily approached the white cherry in the carpark and gawped at people queueing at a plethora of smoky street food stalls, dawdling coffee-cuppers and a crowd in the middle of the pedestrian street dancing and singing along to a busker.  “That’s all you need for a festival – a man with guitar, a kebab and a can of beer!”  “It’s such a contrast to last Easter during lockdown 1. Do you remember dancing in traffic-free streets?”  Meanwhile, Elder Sis posted pictures of her walk through a deserted central London.  Thinking the world had descended on our little town, I later discovered there’d been a Kill the Bill demo (and also in Birmingham and  Bristol, with inevitable crowds and arrests), so maybe all the Cockneys were in Finsbury Park.

Back home, Phil wrangled the bread without touching the wrapping at all like a total ninja so we could have butties for lunch.  I was shocked that I’d taken tons more photos than on a country walk.  Many featured blurry blossom and went straight in the bin but I found inspiration for a haigaii.  At bedtime, an incredibly loud wind whipped up the second my head hit the pillow.  It took some time to drop off.  I dreamt I was pregnant but in denial.  On waking I recalled this was often a metaphor for new projects then realised it was probably because the book I was reading featured a pregnant girl!

In his Easter message from Canterbury cathedral with a distanced choir, arch Welby said we could go with the light of Jesus and choose a better future for all.  St. Peter’s square eerily empty, The Pope took mass inside the basilica.  Vaccines reached 31.5m and 5.3m had a second dose.  On the eve of a cabinet meeting and a Boris briefing there was speculation on traffic lights for travel and Covid passport trials (at events later in April including the FA cup final and Snooker). Tory MP Nigel Huddle said it may enable venues to open without social distancing but David Daves moaned it wasn’t ‘freedom to have a normal life’ – whatever that was…

Haiga – Delusion

*UK Research and Innovation

References:

i. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/

ii My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

Part 52 – Balancing Act

“Vaccine, vaccine, vaccine, vaccine. I’m begging of you please don’t hesitate. Vaccine, vaccine, vaccine, vaccine. Because once you’re dead then it’s a bit too late” (Dolly Parton)

A Game of Percentages

Haiga – Force of Nature i

My sleep was disturbed Monday morning by a racket emanating from waste ground near the canal.  The workmen barely discernible beneath cold, grey fog, it seemed the recent spring-like feel was a blip.  Phil made porridge.  It subsequently took half an hour to wash up.  Recovering with coffee, I posted blogs and worked on the next chapter of the journal.  Unable to rest in the afternoon, I considered if random birthday gifts stashed under the bed were adequate.  Inadequate exercise and repose prompted me to do some late yoga, as recommended by the latest research suggesting light to moderate activity an hour before bedtime.  It definitely helped with relaxation and kip.

Hospital admissions for Covid among the over 80’s fell by 80%.  The PA news agency reported falling infection rates across the 4 UK nations although by less in England.  Boris insisted we had “one of the toughest border regimes anywhere in the world.”  Keir disagreed: “(we hadn’t) secured our borders in the way we should have…it demonstrates the slowness of the government to close off even the major routes…(and) unwillingness to confront the fact that the virus doesn’t travel by direct flights.”  Yvette Coop added: “These cases…arrived a month after the Brazil variant was first identified and we were raising with the government the need for stronger action.”  Large queues at Heathrow made me wonder: ‘if it’s like this with travel restrictions, what will it be like in May when holidays are allowed?’  While the EU discussed a ‘digital green passport’, the DoT wanted a common approach.  The Restaurant Group were ‘burning through’ £5.5m per month but ‘strong trading’ for take-away deliveries hiked share prices.  Northern-based restaurant chain Tomahawk Steakhouse asked workers to loan them 10% of their furlough monies.  Was that even legal?  GMB regional sec Neil Derrick said: “It’s never been easier or cheaper for businesses to borrow money…but (they) want it for free and they have solved their cash flow problem by giving a cash flow problem to their staff.”  A week later, Tomahawk gave the dosh back.  Derrick maintained that wouldn’t have happened without attention being brought to the matter.

In the first public sighting since her house arrest, Ang San Suu Kyi appeared in a Myanmar court via video link to have 2 more trumped up charges added to those already levied.  Meanwhile, a meteor was seen whizzing over Barnsley and landed somewhere in Gloucestershire.

Although more rested on Tuesday, I suffered achiness and a sore throat.  Ignoring it, I submitted my article to Valley Life Magazineii and worked on the journal before going to the co-op.  A sizeable shop proved rather stressful with screeching kids and dithering hikers impeding the aisles.  One hit me with his bag as he reached into an adjacent cold cabinet – accidentally on purpose?  I took a deep breath and contained my annoyance.  Cowbag staffed the only open till but we exchanged pleasantries rather than bickering.  Back home, I hid perishable treats and instructed Phil not to nosy around in the kitchen.  He’d cleaned the cooker and floor while I was out which was nice, especially as he’d had an awful day work-wise and had to reset the internet.  Powerless to help, I made sympathetic noises.  The Marcella double-bill finale annoyingly split by ITV news, meant forgoing pre-bed yoga and I awoke several times during an odd night.

UK deaths from the virus halved every day and decreased by 25% in the past week- the lowest since January.  As the P1 variant mystery search was narrowed to 379 households in South East England, studies revealed 25%- 61% of Manaus residents were susceptible to re-infection.  Sharon Peacock, Cog-UK, said it was now found in 25 countries but couldn’t speculate on how it would ‘pan out’ and focus was still on the prevalent Kent Virus.  PHE real-world data on the effectiveness of the AZ and Pfizer vaccines showed they provided 60% protection in the over 70’s with 80% less hospitalisations in the over 80’s.  Andrew Pollard of Ox Vax proclaimed it ‘stunning’ and a wake-up call for Europe: “it shows how critical it is to improve public confidence across the continent about the vaccines.”

Rishi Rich reportedly worked 24/7, spoke to the queen and made his own promotional video in the budget run-up.  Previews included a public sector debt of £2.1 trillion and an extension of furlough to 30th September (but with larger employer contributions).  The CBI said it would “keep millions more in work and let businesses catch their breath as we carefully exit lockdown.”  Shadow Treasury Sec Bridget Phillipson countered: “announcing this the night before shows the focus on Rishi Sunak getting his moment in the sun rather than protecting jobs and livelihoods.”  Jon Ashworth tweeted ‘The ego has landed’.

Weighing Things Up

Rishi’s Balancing Act (Cartoon by Guy Venables)

Wednesday morning, I adapted an Australian chocolate fruit cake recipe for Phil’s birthday.  With all the measuring and weighing it took a full hour to get it in the oven.  While it was baking, we watched events in parliament.  On the anniversary of the government publishing a 27-page document insisting the UK was ‘well prepared’ for the pandemic, only to announce lockdown 3 weeks later, Keir started PMQs by asking why the UK sold arms to Saudi and slashed aid to Yemen by half.  In a tory backlash, Jeremy C**t called it ”incredibly disappointing,” and Andrew Mitchell said it was “a strategic mistake with deadly consequences.”  UN Sec Gen Guterres declared the cut a “death sentence” for hungry children amidst possibly the worst humanitarian crisis ever.

The budget presentation ensued.  Rishi dished it out with an additional £65bn for Covid measures, £150m for a community fund (to help locals buy their local), extension of furlough as expected and characteristically complicated help for the self-employed.  The UC uplift would stay for 6 months and the living wage increase to £8.91.  Apprenticeship employer incentives rose to £3,000 and new re-start grants for businesses came in April.  The business rate holiday would end in June, then be discounted by 60% to the end of the fiscal year.  Similarly, the 5% VAT rate would stay until September and then be 12.5% for the next 6 months.  Stamp duty changes were extended and big lenders confirmed they’d offer loans under the mortgage guarantee scheme.

Commitment to green growth included a ‘green bond’ and investment in offshore wind.  Regional growth plans involved more funding for devolved administrations, an infrastructure bank in Leeds, a northern ‘economic campus’ (i.e., Treasury office), and port infrastructure in Teesside and Humberside.  8 freeports with favourable tax and duty rates would be created: East Midlands airport, Felixstowe & Harwich, The Humber (Goole), Liverpool, Plymouth Solent, Thames, and Teesside (Redcar).

Good to see money spent on the north for once, there was a definite ‘blue wall’ bias.  Leeds was dismissed as the location of the Treasury office in favour of Darlington (near to Rishi’s Richmond patch), freeports weren’t evenly spread and of the £1bn new ‘town deal’ areas, 40 out of 45 had tory MPs.  Only 3 of the constituencies covered voted remain in the Brexit referendum.

Other schemes to boost productivity and growth included a retail savings bond, management training, visa reforms to attract scientific and tech migrants, and free digital training and new software discounts for SMEs.  The ambition to be a ‘scientific super-power’ was ‘not hubristic, but realistic’, he claimed, as demonstrated by the success of vaccine roll-out.  Was the extra £1.6 bn to continue this and to ‘improve future preparedness’ part of the £65bn?  What was the rest for?

Counting The Cost

Cute Animal Collage

Reeling off the biggest borrowing figures since WW2, the chancellor warned they’d continue to be high before falling, and Interest rates may not stay low.  Thus he planned to achieve ‘sustainable public finances’ and not borrow to pay for everyday spending but invest in capital projects.  Anticipated tax rises took the form of a freeze on personal tax thresholds in 2022 and a hike in corporation tax to 25% in 2023.  There would be a smaller profits rate of 19% for SMEs, tapers above £50,000 and a business tax ‘super-deduction’ for re-investment, to boost jobs and economic recovery.

He didn’t mention a card swipe limit rise to £100, and while there was no tax hike on fuel, beer or baccy, air passenger duty for long-haul flights would increase.  More significantly, he failed to draw attention to a lack of extra money for schools or a cut in NHS and social care funding.  Responding that it wasn’t a budget for ordinary people, Labour cited an ‘astonishing’ £30.1bn cut in day-to day DOHSC spending ‘buried in the small print’.  Keir said it papered “over the cracks” rather than rebuilding the economy and Rishi totally ignored public sector workers while indulging in social media gimmicks at tax-payers’ expense.  Disregarding a waiting list backlog, Ministers countered they’d put tons of money in during the pandemic.  Boris justified a derisory 1% pay increase for NHS staff by saying most carers worked in the private sector and were covered by the increase in the living wage – splutter!

Head spinning with arithmetic, I got stuck into cleaning.  In spite of mental and physical exhaustion, I had a terrible night.  Unable to settle, I wanted to try a BBC Headroom soundtrack but required to sign in, I had no chance of remembering the password at 1.40 a.m.  I used the meditation soundtrack, and fell in and out of broken sleep.  Phil also struggled and dreamt he went in a rocket.  Thankfully, it wasn’t the evil Musk’s Space X Starship 10 which hilariously blew up on landing later in the week!

In other news, Sturgeon told Scots she’d consider accelerating exit from lockdown, but criteria for moving down the levels would tighten from late April.  Builder Taylor Wimpey pledged £125m to replace dangerous cladding and conduct fire safety work on properties constructed within the last 20 years, including blocks under 59ft tall excluded from the government fund

Achy again on Thursday, I performed morning exercise before turning to writing.  Attempting to solve the ‘blue sandstone’ mystery from the last walk, I researched geological maps but they all cost money – bloody geologists!  I set off to spend a small fortune on Phil’s favourite meaty treats from the butchers, and a bit less on a last-minute gift from the chemist.  He was upstairs on my return so I could hide purchases unseen.  Deciding it was enough presents, I wrapped them before attempting a siesta, to be disturbed by a noisy generator on the waste-ground leaving me tired and stressed.  Phil said: “You don’t have to do all that stuff for my birthday.” “I know, but I feel I should, to make up for not going anywhere.”  He tittered.

An ONS survey suggested 48% of over 80’s who’d had a jab broke lockdown rules by meeting someone outside of their family or bubble.  The MHRA were given permission to fast-track vaccine approval to deal with mutants.  As France, Belgium, Italy and Germany approved AZ for the over 65’s, a German doctor offered Phil a spare via social media.  “Beware of drugs dished out on Facebook!”  Biden said there was enough vaccine for all American adults to be injected by May, and Dolly Parton sang to the tune of Jolene while having hers (see above).

On QT, business minister Kwasi Kwarteng more or less said ‘ never mind the mistakes, we have the vaccines’ and justified the dearth of public sector pay rises by saying the private sector was badly hit by the pandemic.  It would have been even worse if the carers and key workers hadn’t stepped up, you wanker!   Entrepreneur Theo Paphitis called Tit ‘appalling’ and Labour’s Lisa Nandy exclaimed “not learnt the lessons” a lot.

Barmy Birthday Cake

Friday, I went a bit mad decorating the cake.  The cooking chocolate failed to melt properly.  I turned it into lumpy frosting and hid the mess with a melange of crystallized ginger, nut flakes, chocolate bits and candles.  I checked the proof from Valley Life, wrote ‘turning seasons’ for Cool Places and got the co-op’s freezer deal for a birthday eve carb-fest.  Printing the card later, I’d completely forgotten about the cute animal collage I made weeks ago.  Railing against the cost of ink, I was irked the colours didn’t reproduce well in print.  We spent the evening watching the highly anticipated Deutschland ’89 and films, drinking Mateus and toasting Phil’s birthday.

The P1 mystery person was found in Croydon, thankfully in quarantine.  Nads Doris did a round of interviews to defend the 1% NHS pay rise, insisting it was all they could afford.  Unions up in arms, the GMB called it “dismissive and insulting,” Unison were balloting members on industrial action, and the RCN set up a £35m strike fund.  Cyprus and Portugal planned to welcome UK vaccinated vacationers by 1st May, but we weren’t allowed to go until at least the 17th.  40 days after Nasty Patel announced it, fliers were mandated to complete a ‘declaration of travel’.  From Monday, a costly £2,000 fine would ensue for failure to produce the document.

Paying The Price

Along the Sustrans Path

On the big day, I assembled Phil’s birthday gifts and treats and cooked a fat meaty brunch before the unwrapping.  He seemed to like the random selection!  His sister rang him for a chat.  As a teacher in Hull, she had worked throughout in a school never less than 50% full even in total lockdown.  An indication of the demography of the workforce, unsurprisingly leading to a much higher infection rate than the UK average.

Turning back to pleasant distractions, we decided on a walk.  With few options open to us without breaking the law, it was either that or coffee-cupping.  Luckily, appearance of the sun coincided with the mid-afternoon outing to his favourite wood.  Crossing at the traffic lights, we gave a cheery wave to a mate walking her dog, navigated the busy park, and went along the Sustrans path.  Low river waters revealed detritus and mysterious posts sticking out of sandy banks.  On a green bridge, pixie cups sprouted on mossy walls.  Near the farm, robins hopped between garden shrubs.  A man gardening commented on the number of small birds thereabouts.  A lovely grassy lane took us down to the old quarry, where a couple of boys rode mountain bikes.  I prodded an old bottle filled with green growth.  Thinking it could have art potential, I safely used a spare carrier to place it in my rucksack.  We rested at a small waterfall and enjoyed the calm rumble of water underfoot until a cloud of midges emerged!  Continuing through the unpeopled wood, we were serenaded by flocks of finches and yet more robins on the final stretch onto roadway.  Taking steps down to the canal, the lock bridge was crowded, requiring some dodging. (for a fuller description of the walk, see Cool Placesiii).

The barmy-looking cake was scrummy.  While out, I received several comments on the photo I’d posted on Facebook.  Referring to the candles, one friend said ‘I see Phil is 6’  ‘Err, 7 actually!’  Barely hungry, we forced ourselves to order an Indian take-away for dinner.  The deliverer rang to say he couldn’t find the house.  I stood on the doorstep and waved at a figure prowling the street.  He’d been looking for a number that didn’t exist.  On approach, he wore a mask on his chin.  Why bother if you took if off your face when you got to the customer’s house?  Not having dealt with a plague era take-away before, I considered the logistics.  I lay all the containers out on the kitchen table, removed the lids then washed my hands for serving, later cleansing the table and containers to put leftovers in the fridge.  Apart from cold bhajis, it tasted great but I wondered if it was worth the money now I could cook a decent curry myself.   Phil said it was, for the variety.  He had seconds but I could hardly move after 1 plateful! We drank cava and watched a DVD movie double-bill.  My Way mad because it’s true, Doomsday because it isn’t.  The Neil Marshall offering from 2008 wrongly predicted how people would act in the midst of a pandemic, lockdown and Brexit but his fictional plague was far more interesting than the real one!

On a cold, grey Sunday, we stayed in.  Feeling whacked, I apologised for being boring but tried to stay upbeat.  Writing and telly-watching was punctuated by eating yummy leftovers.  Despite severe fatigue, I struggled to sleep, doubtless due to the weekend’s excesses.  Night-time brightness didn’t help.  I peeked through the curtains at shiny white clouds, then used the meditation soundtrack to fall into a fractious sleep.

Vaccinations reached 22k.  As part of the over 55 age group, we’d be next.  Susan Hopkins, PHE said the UK was in for a ‘hard winter’ with surges in flu and ‘other respiratory pathogens’ because lack of a recent flu season reduced immunity.  But wouldn’t that slow the spread and reduce the risk of mutations, as they argued for Covid?  NHS workers claimed a higher pay offer was already ‘baked in’, held demos and threatened court action.  Boris still insisted 1% was all the government could afford (but it could change when the offer was considered by the NHS Pay Review Body).  As Europe warned of legal action, Lord Frost wrote in The Torygraph to tell them to stop sulking over the UK’s unilateral decision to extend the ‘grace period’ until October.  Using the EU rule put in place 30th January*, France and Italy churlishly blocked AZ exports to Australia.  A record 2.9m Americans were inoculated on Saturday making a total of 90m.   The Pope spent the weekend in Iraq and held a poignant Sunday mass among the ruins of Mosul.

* Vaccine export transparency mechanism; subsequently extended to the end of June 2021.

References:

i. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

ii. Valley Life Magazine: http://valleylifemagazine.co.uk/

iii. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/

Part 42 – The Nightmare Before Christmas

“Your baby is the miracle the whole world has been waiting for” (Jasper Palmer, Children of Men)

Dashing Through The Drizzle

Haiga -Limbo i

Aptly dark for the shortest day, misty drizzle virtually obscured the outside world on the winter solstice.  We had no chance of seeing the conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter.  My insomnia paled into insignificance as Phil suffered a painful flare-up of his slipped disc problem.  I spent the day cleaning, shopping and baking Christmas cake.  Phil helped with spekulatius biscuits. Made using a BBC recipe, they looked and tasted good but not quite like the childhood treats I remembered.  Predicting a nightmare 2021, Elder Sis joked in a message about looking forward to a diet of potato and leek soup.  I replied we were thinking up new and exciting ways to stuff a turnip! Going to the co-op, I found the main road rammed with traffic and gaps on shelves.  Nevertheless, I still filled my basket and struggled home damp and weary.  I decorated ‘Hull tree’ for the small room.  Phil’s heirloom, purchased in Woolworths in the 1960’s, could win a contest for oldest Christmas tree still in use, but it never gets installed early enough to hit the headlines.

We relaxed watching telly until The Bumbler appeared for a stupid briefing, following a Cobra meeting.  40 countries had now banned flights from the UK, the Eurotunnel shut and Dover was a giant carpark. Instead of addressing the most pressing matters of the new coronavirus variant now present in most of the UK, he boasted that half a million people had received the first dose of the Pfizer vaccine, delivery of which was still on track as container transport was unaffected by the blockade.  While the EU called for a Europe-wide protocol, Boris phoned Mini Mackerel on his birthday to try and resolve issues of freight handled or driven by humans and said it would be sorted within a few hours; it wasn’t.  Meanwhile, Shatts lauded the post-Brexit port preparation, saying the crisis proved it worked.  “So that’s the prep is it?  Massive truck parks?”  I asked.  “Yes but at least you don’t have to shit on the bus.”  Remarked Phil.

On a bright, cold Tuesday, it was late morning by the time I ventured downstairs.  After working on the journal, I set off for last-minute gift shopping.  Although the roads were busy again and some shops were packed, others were deserted or shut which seemed odd.  The assistant in the hippy shop was surprisingly unaware of the viral-repelling properties of copper.  Unable to find a copper ring in Phil’s size, I chose one made from an old shilling.  The antiques shop staff helpfully directed me to the relevant section for photography paraphernalia.  Finding a couple of items to fill the camera case, I declared job done.  On my return, I wrapped gifts for my walking friend and sorted cards for neighbours before a brief rest.  I made stir-fry for dinner using what I thought might be the last broccoli we’d see for a while.  “I won’t miss it,” declared Phil.  “Hmm, you say that now!”

Due to the rapid spread of the mutant virus, Indy Sage said the whole nation should be in tier 4.  World media called the UK ‘plague island’ as 700 lorries were now stuck in Kent.  There was finally a breakthrough with France late evening.  Transit would be allowed if drivers tested negative.  The NHS and army were mobilised to carry out rapid flow testing from 6.00 a.m. Wednesday.  Anticipated to be days before the backlog was cleared, chaos still reigned with truckers stuck in queues.  Many didn’t get home for Christmas.  What a nightmare!  Production stopped at Toyota due to supply issues and big supermarkets limited the amount of certain items customers could buy – the usual suspects of bog roll, pasta and rice featured high on the list.  Guy Verhofstadt tweeted: ‘now you know what Brexit will be like’.  Quite!

Wednesday, I forced myself up despite mediocre sleep and an achy shoulder.  Presented with stodgy mounds of porridge, I was rather ungracious but later apologised.  I texted my walking friend for her to collect her gifts.  She was on her way to work and arrangements were left open-ended.  Scouring the co-op for fresh cream and bread, I found none and returned home to try and work on the journal, but interrupted and distracted, I declared it too much and gave it up for a couple of days.  I retreated to the kitchen to make pastry and decorate the cake.  Phil went to Leeds so I took the opportunity to wrap his pressies.  I’d just finished when he got back.  “You weren’t  kidding about not being long!”  He said he’d ran all over the dead city.  Reading the evening metro, I noted it was the last issue until 4th Jan – what would I do without my morning fix?  Phil helped make pies and rolls while I simultaneously cooked dinner.  It all took ages and we wondered if something was wrong with the gas.

In the latest briefing, Cock announced another new strain of coronavirus identified in South Africa.  Here, more areas of South East England would move up to tier 4 from Boxing Day.  Levels were raised elsewhere leaving nowhere in tier 2 and only the Silly Isles in Tier 1.

That night, the common theme of a house with many rooms, populated by friends and relatives, alive and deceased, dominated my dreams. While not unpleasant, it invoked the pre-Christmas nightmare of attending a brother’s funeral on 23rd December 6 years ago.

An Almost-White Christmas

Free At Last

Christmas Eve started frosty but sunny.  Pink clouds indicated snow was possible.  Braving the cold, I posted cards through neighbours’ doors.  The elderly lady popped her head out, not looking at all well.  We chatted briefly and I hoped she’d be better soon.  I cut sprigs of greenery from the garden and created attractive displays including a rather fetching ivy arrangement for the living room door.  Phil collected the duck and also succeeded in sourcing fresh bread.  He then wrapped my gifts while I did a whizz-round clean and sent Christmas messages.

Following frenzied speculation, a Brexit deal was announced late afternoon.  Ursula said it was a: “good deal… fair, balanced.”  Boris bragged it was: “everything we promised.”  What a liar!  Heavily weighted in favour of the EU, they were meeting Christmas Day to agree in principle.  MPs would return to parliament for one day the following week to vote.  Keir said Labour would back it.  Disinclined to read the massive document, I gleaned a few details.  Services were excluded (to much criticism) but there would be tariff-free trade albeit with extra checks and paperwork.  The Kermit would actually be a thing! * Any changes for example to employment law, would go to an independent panel.  The EHIC card would be valid until expiry and then be replaced by a similar healthcare scheme.  Later in the week, I found a good summary from the FTii.  As the talks came down to specific fish, my plans to call the next blog entry ‘so long and thanks for all the fish…’ were scuppered.  On the plus side, my Brexit Island page got a record 132 engagements.  I posted a cartoon from the NY Times, ‘free at last’, to celebrate

In the evening, we watched films including a double bill of our favourite festive movies – The Nightmare Before Christmas and the extremely prophetic Children of Men.  It even mentioned ‘the great flu pandemic’.  Due to an awful year and the impending Brexit, the harrowing scenes affected me more than usual.  Although very tired, I struggled to sleep that night.

Christmas Day also began frosty and bright.  Becoming cloudy later, there was even some soggy snow but it didn’t stick – not quite a white Christmas.  I rose late, realised I had forgotten to message a good friend and posted a card to her wall.   I then saw a post that her partner had broken his arm and had to go to hospital on Christmas Eve.  It turned out they were thoughtfully on the way to deliver cards to us, amongst others.  We enjoyed all our usual Christmas traditions, including a posh brekkie, exchanging gifts, a late roast dinner, prosecco, Irish coffee and trifle. Thankfully, the antique camera I bought online wasn’t broken.  In fact, Phil was so chuffed he spent ages polishing the thing.  I’d trust my gut instincts more in future.  He got me a shiny new phone so I no longer had to fear imminent death of the old one – hurray!

The Weather Outside Is Frightful

Ivy Arrangement

After overnight drizzle, Boxing Day was a grey affair.  Storm Bella caused flooding further south and although it reached us later, we luckily escaped a repeat of the great Boxing Day flood of 2015.  A bit hungover, I revived with tea and a bath.  Disinclined to go out in the cold, I planned to set up my new phone.  However, I ended up working on the journal all day.

Phil bravely made a short foray to the shop and reported streets deserted. Implementation of the revised tiers meant no shopping in London but local news showed a busy Leeds with the sales in full swing.  A sharp contrast to the pre-Christmas scenes, the turnaround was obviously due to people going bargain-hunting..

Sunday, I felt as crap as the weather.  Following Christmas flooding and winds of 106 mph recorded in the south, a yellow snow warning was issued for Wales and NW England.  Resigned to another day indoors, I finalised blogs and set up the new phone.  File transfer with google seemed easy enough but it failed to import my contacts.  Lots of fiddling and swearing at Android ensued, until Phil worked it out using MS launcher.  Predictably, visuals weren’t as I wanted them but I got used it over the next few days.  On the plus side, it had a large screen and 3 cameras!

As cases of coronavirus still soared, so did pressure on hospitals.  In the USA, 14 million risked losing unemployment benefit when The Trump peevishly refused to sign the ‘support package’ bill.  Biden talked of ‘devastating consequences unless a ‘veto override’ succeeded.  So it wasn’t only the truckers stuck in the UK that suffered a Christmas nightmare!

*Note – Kermit – nickname for the permit required to enter Kent. I’d already commented on the irony of needing a passport to enter the Brexiteer county from the rest of the UK!

References:

i. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

ii. Brexit summary: https://www.ft.com/content/bd71fda3-0a34-4b52-ae98-4769848cb628

Part 25 – The Nudge Unit

A Flurry of Wets

Storm Francis Hits Landfall

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.

References:

i. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

Part 24 – Omnishambles

Turkeys Voting For Christmas

A Turkey Voting For Christmas

I continued to be mainly bed-ridden for the first half of the week, observing a mainly grey scene occasionally broken up by thunder and rain.  Phil looked better but left exhausted from pain over the weekend.  Monday, I posted blogs and rested in the afternoon, unusually sleeping for 20 minutes.  Feeling marginally better, I was cheered further by another huge government U-turn, on the A level results fiasco – bullied by a bunch of teenagers having a march!  Phil said it boded well for negotiating trade deals with hard-faced Republicans after a no-deal Brexit!  Gavin Salesman didn’t get sacked although rumours circulated that he had tendered his resignation, to be refused by Boris.  I guessed the Bumbler was waiting for more fiascos with the GCSE results and schools re-opening in September: then Gavin would be for the chop ( as already hinted at).  Later in the week, it emerged Ofqual had made the decision on the A level grades, but Gavin claimed it was his idea.  They just couldn’t stop lying!  Pathological!  

The Railcard people asked for screenshots of full-priced tickets I’d purchased. I sent them on Tuesday, hoping for a refund.  While not promised, why else would they ask? 

I’d been annoyed at the lack of help at mealtimes, for which Phil apologised, saying he was busy.  I kept schtum but if he would  keep working all the time…  while I stayed abed in the afternoon, he embarked on errands, which made him wobbly.  I was really fed up and miserable at us both being ill.  A woman from the other end of the street called round.  While she talked to Phil on the doorstep, I eavesdropped out of view at the top of stairs and caught the odd word; ‘old mill development’ ‘ builders’ ‘ asbestos removal’.  He agreed to be on the e-mail list.  At about 10.00 p.m., she circulated a letter from the Street Action Group (SAG) to the developers, requesting comments by 5 p.m. the next day.  Much too late for me, I planned to look in the morning, but forgot.  I sat up watching Prime, then struggled to stand and berated myself for being out of bed so long.  Regardless of fatigue, I tossed and turned with mind-churn.  Thoughts randomly included the neighbour stuff (why were we only being included in the group now?  Were we an afterthought?)  The meditation soundtrack lulled me in and out of sleep but I didn’t settle properly until 4.00 a.m.

The news that PHE was to be abolished had seeped into the press overnight Sunday/Monday.  In a move to deflect blame from the government, Matt Cock said their pandemic activities would merge with TIT in a new National Institute for Health Protection, effective from next month.  And who got to head up this shiny new body?  Yep.  The incompetent posh Tory wife, Dildo Harding!  The Cock denied cronyism, saying she was the best person for the job.  Even the right-wing press proclaimed ‘omnishambles’.  Where next for Gammons?  If they wouldn’t stand for it, would backbench Tories rebel?  Wasn’t that turkeys voting for Christmas? I predicted a resurgence of Brexit parties if the government collapsed and forced another election.

Moonshot

Haiga – Feeding Time i

Wednesday, I really struggled after only a few hours’ sleep, but forced myself to get changed as my PJ’s stank.  I straightened the bed and opened the window for some fresh air but had to close it sharpish as the dismal weather merged into tropical storm Ellen.   I spent the rest of the day working on the laptop including a ‘response’ to StandUpX.  New research showed face coverings reduced exposure to droplets by x10k, providing more ammunition and a useful illustration.  Not that it stopped the hippies and gammons continuing to protest and spread misinformation about mask-wearing. (See image below).

The Cock hit the headlines again, bleating about mass population testing.  The ‘moonshot’ tag made no sense.  What the hell did that mean?  Blair resurfaced to say the government were ‘running out of time’ to avoid a ‘second wave’.  In Greater Manchester, the organiser of a Gorton house party last Saturday claimed only 20 people were invited but she had a massive gazebo in the garden.  A ‘closure order’ banned anyone visiting for 3 months; effectively a ‘house lockdown’.  Oldham faced possible pub closures while the mayor said it was pointless as people would just go to other areas within GMC and Yorks (was that why our town was always packed?)

Warm sun made a brief return on Thursday.  Somewhat recovered and less fatigued after a better night, I performed a few stretching exercises in spite of the persistent achiness and tummy issues.  Phil queried the rules about wearing masks in cinemas but not if eating: “so you could just continuously scoff popcorn.  Then you wouldn’t need to wear one”.   I spent the morning sat on the bed dealing with admin on the laptop.  The Researcher had sent a mini-update on the project to which I replied but heard nothing further.  I jotted down a very short list of presents for my birthday in a few weeks’ time.  The thing about not buying stuff is you realise you don’t need any of it!

Wild Carrot

Lunchtime, I felt up to getting out in the sun and suggested going to a café with outdoor seating.  The town centre inevitably heaved.  We wandered up to the outdoor market.  A dismal affair.  Useful stallholders were absent, the gaps filled with pointless crap – on the one day it was meant to be real stuff!

We found a table outside the Turkish place and basked in sunshine.  Eating al fresco at the med-style café as people strolled up and down in summer garb and buskers played, gave a holiday feel. 

We visited a couple of charity shops. Phil found an old camera and I bought books (I got through novels at break-neck speed this year).  After some aimless wandering, we sat on a bench near the old bridge.  A crop of wild carrots studded with red poppies and yellow flowers attracted my attention, but the stench of dog poo and a fly infestation made me retreat from taking close-ups.  Across the river, kids in baseball caps threw food at ducks.  A small filming crew of a woman and two men came and stood by the railings. “Are we disturbing you?” they asked “No, we were going anyway.” One of the men said: “you don’t have to on our account.  You won’t be in it and if you are, we’ll glam you up with the make-up kit.”  “Are you saying we need glamming up?”  I asked.  “I meant him.” (indicating Phil).  “I meant him too!”   Phil asked what they were filming and the woman told us it was a short film about businesses’ flood resilience.  A good location for that.  Back home, I lay down again but unbale to rest, I went out to potter in the garden and bring flowers in.  An earwig wove round the petals of a hydrangea bloom so I had to take it out again.

U Turn If U Want To…

U Turn

Scientists at UCL claimed contact-tracing apps were unlikely to reduce the spread of coronavirus.  Even if 80% of us used them, other measures were needed such as closure of indoor spaces.   Meanwhile, kids were revealed as silent ‘super-spreaders’.  They carried more virus when apparently healthy than seriously ill adults.  Portugal was removed from the quarantine list but Croatia, Austria and Trinidad & Tobago were added.  The government ignored Simon Calder’s plea to give more notice: effective from 04.00 Sunday, no flights were due to leave Croatia until after that time.  Having been caught out himself, Shatts said things changed quickly and only travel if you are content to be quarantined when you come back.

It was reported that a boy of 16  from Sudan died crossing the channel in a dinghy, with a shovel for an oar. It later transpired he was a man of 26, but still a tragic casualty.  Nasty Patel was accused of heartlessness. Pierre-Henri Dumont, National Assembly representative for the Calais region exclaimed: “How much will it take for the British to regain an ounce of humanity?”  Detention Action, said: “We have repeatedly warned (Patel) it was only a matter of time before her toxic policy to deny safe and legal routes to the UK would cost lives. This death lies firmly at her door.”

Back on the exams front, record high GCSE grades were awarded following yet another U-turn and another reprieve for Gavin Salesman.  Pearson’s delayed BTEC results, allegedly to be in line with higher A level marks.

Friday morning, Phil received a flurry of messages from SAG.  All the neighbours were going outside at 9.30 to berate the developers for placing the asbestos suction machine too far into the road.  What on earth did they expect them to do?  Years ago, we attended a meeting to challenge the old mill development.  The woman now leading the SAG’s main gripe was that people in the proposed flats opposite would see her knickers.  A local expert on the matter informed her this would not be enough to overturn the planning permission, but a lack of infrastructure and parking might.  A few of us agreed to take photos of the street at different times of the day to demonstrate how little space there was.  As far as I know, I was the only one that did.  Anyway, we lost that battle.  I was glad I’d been left out of it this time!   I tackled the worst of the grime in the kitchen and went to the co-op.  We needed quite a big shop so Phil came to help carry stuff back.  Dry when we set off, a ton of rain suddenly threw itself down.  A man just about to exit swore: “where the fuck did that come from?”  “The sky,” Phil giggled.  We waited inside until the deluge abated somewhat and made our soggy way home.  Things got fraught, sorting the purchases, washing bottles, and stuffing things in the fridge.  Exhausted, I collapsed on the sofa.  After lunch, I researched places to stay in Southport for my birthday.  The favoured Clifton Spa was shut until further notice, which was a pain. I’d expected the large hotel to be safely open and anticipated a dip in the pool should the weather be too inclement for walking.  Further searching uncovered a small self-catering apartment which I reserved.

As the R rate increased to as much as 1.1, restrictions were lifted in Wigan, Rossendale, and Darwen, but increased in Oldham, Blackburn and Pendle (no socialising or non-essential travel, but pubs stayed open).  I hoped we didn’t face a similar scenario, disrupting birthday trip plans (at least we could cancel our accommodation for free up to 4th Sept.).  The M&S sandwich factory in Northants shut and The Cock rabbited about fines for non-compliance with quarantine. The tenant eviction ban was extended by 4 weeks; nowhere near enough to avoid an increase in homelessness in time for Christmas.  Government debt reached £2 trillion, more than GDP, while Apple hit a net worth of £1.5 trillion.  Almost enough to buy us out!

A Series of Slightly Unfortunate Events

Response To StandUpX

On a changeable Saturday characterised by miniscule sunny spells amidst squally showers, I stayed home, wrote a haiku and fixed things – dead watches, jewellery and a phone stylus.  Phil joined in the maintenance to replace overhead bulbs in the kitchen so we had light at last, and bodged the bedroom door which kept sticking (taking longer than anticipated of course).  He also popped to the shop amid an alarming shower.  As the rain became heavier, it was positively scary-sounding late into the night.

Sunday, I awoke fuzzy from mediocre sleep and watched aghast as a stupid woman on Sunday Morning Live said not everyone wanted a coronavirus vaccine as they might get tracked.  This reference to the idiotic Bill Gates conspiracy nonsense went unchallenged!

Witless claimed the risks from kids missing school was greater than the adverse effects from coronavirus.  Police reported more than 100 illegal gatherings over the weekend, including a rave in Deighton, Huddersfield.  Boris planned to increase fines of up to £1,000 in time for the bank holiday weekend.  I doubted that would stop them!

Unsure what to do on another wet day, I cleaned the bathroom leading to a series of slightly unfortunate events.  As I shook rugs out the window, bits of hair and grit went everywhere creating another chore, then I managed to drag a scarf under my foot from the bedroom to the bathroom meaning I had to handwash it, then the tap fell to bits!  Exacerbated, I noted the sun momentarily made an appearance and I considered going outdoors, when clouds immediately returned.  I switched to sewing and settled in front of the telly, to be irritated further by an intermittent signal!  Thoroughly fed up, I then developed a nasty stitch in my side just before dinner.  It eased of slightly after eating but I could barely keep my eyes open and went to bed early.  Regardless of the tiredness, sleep eluded me for some time.

Reference:

i. My  haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

Part 23 – Down in The Dumps

The First Pint

Haiga – Contraption i

The week started warm, muggy and overcast but rain only materialised in a pathetic dribble overnight.  A dismal day of chores was brightened by a phone chat with the friend who’d messaged about mum last week.  I was interested to learn that while the majority of her client contacts continued on a remote basis, she had started seeing them face-to-face in her role as a social worker.

Tuesday, I found a nasty spill in the fridge.  Caused by defrosting prawns, the stinky pink goo seeped right down to the bottom shelf, making a helluvah yukky job to clean it out. I’d booked an annual boiler service, with a time-slot of 10-2.  The phone rang several times duringthe day, usually stopping before we could pick up.  Twice I caught it in time, to hear a robot tell us our Prime subscription was about to be renewed.  Phil had already done it weeks ago!  At 12.20, British Gas finally rang to say the engineer was running late and would arrive after 2.  I told them it was not acceptable after waiting in all morning and changed the date so we could to go out for the afternoon.  I planned to put the washing lines up first, but the window cleaner’s van arrived, making it impossible.  Instead, I chatted to our elderly neighbour, thanking her for the condolence card.  I related details of mum’s funeral and issues with Big Sis.  In spite of my neighbour’s earlier claims she’d had Covid-19 years ago, she was surprisingly in agreement with me that it was better to err on the side of caution.  Whingeing about having to wear a mask to visit the doctors, she accepted it as a courtesy for the protection of others.

We set off on a walk, through shady woodland to hillside settlements and dithered before cautiously approaching a country inn.  Hitherto not open mid-week daytime, we espied a couple of punters with glasses in hand.  Phil suggested a pint.  I hesitantly agreed.  This would be our first pub visit since lockdown!  The front entrance extolled social-distancing and the application of hand-gel.  Did I use the dispenser before or after turning the door handle?  Chairs with more signage and gel bade us wait to be seated.  A young lad directed us through the occupied beer garden to extra tables in the carpark.  A short wait ensued for the table to be cleared and beer to be brought.

Pub Toilet Sign

Although the pub instigated the majority of suggested measures, I was surprised that they didn’t clean the tables when people vacated, and the staff wore no PPE.  I also realised later they hadn’t taken our details for ‘track and trace’.  A fellow pub-goer of years gone by shouted over from the beer garden.  We laughed as she said Phil looked like a significantly older regular at our one-time local.  She then asked “is he still alive?”  None of us had any idea!  Predictably, Phil wanted food after one drink. 

The lad went to fetch menus then told us they were fully booked for dinner.  The draw of the mid-week Dishi Rishi meal deal!

The temperature dropped slightly as a gust of wind blew grey clouds upwards from the misty valley.  A car pulled up and the landlady emerged, grimacing at the humidity.  She agreed with me that a storm might come: “I like the proper ones.”  We used the Covid-secure facilities littered with more hygiene notices before departing.

We walked back along tarmac, veering off lower down for the coolness of trees once more.  Skirting the town centre, we considered eating at the Italian restaurant but pre-booking was essential.  Dinner out scuppered, we went to the co-op for quick tea inspiration.  (For a description of the walk, see Cool Placesii)

The return of hot sun on the speedy descent, made me rather fraught.  Phil insisted on stuffing the groceries into his shoulder bag even though I had carriers for the purpose.  Back home, I became angry as he slung the shoulder bag on top of a clean hand-towel I’d only put out that morning!  I calmed down with a cooling ice lolly and reviving coffee.

Phil unearthed a story about Liz Truss spannering trade talks with Japan over Stilton cheese, demonstrating an incredulous lack of cultural awareness.  Let’s not forget her 2014 tirade about the British cheese trade deficit being a ‘disgrace’.   She really needed to let go of the cheese obsession!

The sound of soft rain and distant thunder at bedtime was quite relaxing hut failed to lull me to sleep.  I  sifted through crap in my head.  All Covid-related, it encompassed the conversation with the neighbour and the pub visit. Unable to pinpoint specific concerns, I used the meditation soundtrack and eventually fell asleep but woke far too early.

Slumps And Slides

Melting Helios

Hot and thirsty Wednesday morning I was unable to sleep in. I put a pair of shorts on for the first time in years.  Slightly too small for me when purchased last year and thus never worn, they now hung off my waist!  I spent the morning on boring housework, seething at hapless men every time I looked outside.  A flabby, topless bloke sorted a binbag full of socks in front of the house, then another parked under our window, before driving right through freshly laundered towels.  I’d only just put the dam things on the line!

We ventured out in the burning afternoon sun.  Following a few errands, I suggested a visit to the park and bought ice cream cones from the café hatch.  As we sat on the grass eating the fast-melting treats, I noticed Helios in the flowerbeds also melting.  Their petals endearingly curled downwards in the heat.  Walking back along the canal, it became even hotter on the aqueduct where a heron stalked on the island.  In the shade of home, I lay on the bed hoping to catch up on sleep, but the bedroom seethed like The Med!  Still unbearably humid in the evening, grey cloud cover suggested a proper storm might be in the offing at last.  This would be a welcome relief as long as it was not too heavy – flooding and landslides caused havoc elsewhere, including a train derailment near Stonehaven in Scotland, leaving 3 dead.

UK deaths from Covid-19 and other causes were down, allegedly due to social distancing, hand-washing and mask-wearing.  I’d always said don’t go to work if you have a cold!

On the other side of the planet, Auckland totally locked down after 4 confirmed cases – even I thought that was OTT, especially as the infected were all members of 1 family.  None of them had travelled abroad and investigators were seeing if the virus arrived in NZ via freight.   A well-known local conspiracy-theorist entered into a spat with our councillor, leading to some witty retorts on Twitter.

In other news, the expected recession was official.  The April-June 20.4% slump was the worst in history and the worst of all developed countries.  ‘World beating’ again!

The migrant wrangle continued throughout the week.  On Monday, the MOD said it was ‘potty’ to use the Navy against desperate people while Boris promised  to change the law to stop them coming, with no details on how.

Wednesday, government minister Chris Philpot went to Paris to discuss ‘measures’, again not spelt out. 

Detention Action said no. 10 were ‘misleading the public’ and ‘must create a safe, legal route.’  The deputy mayor of Calais said ‘British hypocrisy’ was to blame – migrants came to the UK as it was easy to work in the black economy (ouch!)  Nasty Patel retorted that dinghies crossed the channel because the French were racist – how to win friends and influence people!

I struggled to stay awake after dinner.  With the severe lack of sleep recently, I hoped that was the cause and not that I was getting ill again.  Thankfully, I had a much better night.

Thursday morning, it was cloudy and cooler, but storms had still not come. The Ocado delivery arrived as arranged.  The driver moaned at length about the lack of turning space in our cul-de-sac, eventually conceding it was his problem.  When he moved off, I hung bedsheets on the line for the first time in weeks. Sad it may be, but I’d missed the sweet smell of air-dried bedding  A couple of hours later, I glanced out the window to see the washing pole at a dangerous angle. I went out planning to secure it, finding the sheets already dry, and delightfully scented.

News was dominated by the A level results debacle.  Failing to learn the lessons from Scotland, the fireplace-salesman-turned-education minister Gavin Williamson, had come up with a bewildering selection of solutions for students unhappy with their grades, as moderated by an algorithm.  As some grades dropped from a teacher-predicted A to a U, the government said appeals would be free.  Students still marched on Westminster over the weekend, leading to the most spectacular U-turn yet.

BTEC students at Leeds City College had to wait until evening for their results due to a computer glitch.  It served the college right for getting rid of all the people who could do stuff (including Phil).

In plague world, quarantine was finally imposed on travellers from France as well as Malta, Monaco, NL, Aruba and Turks & Caicos.  Official stats changed to downplay deaths from Covid-19 while infections were not reported due to more ‘tech issues’, whatever that meant.  A food factory in Northants which supplied butties to famous high-street chain M&S, had 200 cases of the virus – yuk!

With figures up in Bradford, Kirklees and almost everywhere else in Yorks (although slightly down in Calderdale and Leeds), local restrictions remained.  Not that anyone took a blind bit of notice.  Elsewhere, Boris announced further easement from Saturday, involving indoor theatres and music venues, casinos, bowling alleys, skating rinks, close contact beauty and soft play areas.  Bemused by the crucial nature of such activities to the economy, I asked Phil: “what are you waiting for?  Get out there to get your eyebrows threaded and jump in a ball pool!”  Wedding receptions of up to 30 guests were also now permitted and piloting of sporting events with spectators including the world snooker final and some conferences could take place.

Friday morning, I woke tired and achy after another crap night, bur forced myself out to the co-op. I brandished a voucher for something called ‘Echo Falls raspberry and lavender.’  A helpful assistant directed me to the seasonal shelf.  “Oh.  It’s one of them wines with no alcohol in it.” I said.  Laughing, she replied “It’s got 5%.  You know, for daytime.” “I don’t do daytime drinking.” “it’s about time you started!”

In the afternoon, I wrote a blog for Cool Places and pottered in the garden.  The young neighbour’s small child ran amok, pulling leaves off shrubs.  As he came dangerously close and attacked my hydrangea, I told him not to take things without asking.  Tongue-in-cheek, I called over to dad: “Oi!  Haven’t you taught your toddler social distancing?” Knowing  full well they had no such concept.

Malaise

Facts

At the weekend, the weather reverted to type: cool, damp and overcast.  Saturday cloud was forecast to lift but it didn’t.  I felt really tired, and Phil had terrible pain.  I eventually took painkillers which made him drowsy.  He resisted the urge to sleep even though it would have done him good.  He lolled on the sofa, going slightly doolally.  I baked a chocolate and orange cake.  Adapted from an easy BBC recipe, I whisked until there were bubbles in the mixture but it still didn’t rise much.  It tasted great though,  if I say so myself.  I took a pile of recycling to the bins.   The young couple looked as though they’d invited their entire extended family for a barbecue in the middle of the street – following the local restrictions to the letter (not!)  Phil fought through the drug-induced loopiness to cook dinner.  “I’m wiped out after that.” “ I know how that goes when you’re not well.”   The bargain bottle of Echo Falls tasted light and fruity.  The co-op woman was right; it would be perfect for an afternoon picnic.

Sunday I felt wobbly.  Unlikely it was caused by the weak wine, I conceded I was ill again!  I bathed and made breakfast but had to go back to bed.  Thankfully, Phil wasn’t in as much pain so I was glad for him but miserable for myself (with only just over a week free of the sinus lark).  I told him off for making me laugh when I wanted to be miserable, like the weather.

Stuart Christie

Working on the laptop, I designed a birthday card for Brother 1 and undertook some research.  A news report at the start of the week about a demo by StandUpXiii, prompted me to finally look into what these conspiracy-theorists actually believed.  Admittedly, much of the ‘facts’ they referenced about coronavirus are not incorrect.  But as I maintained from the start, their slant on the pandemic (that only old and ill people died) smacked of self-interested sociopathism.  As did their anti-mask, anti-vac and anti-TIT stance.  They also believed 5g emitted harmful radiation and was needed for when we all got implanted with micro-chips, being developed by The Gates Foundation, so we could be tracked at all times.  Did the idiots not realise their every move was already tracked from their own personal tracking device (i.e. the smartphone in their pocket)?  Not Unsurprisingly, the loony David Icke was behind a lot of this bollocks.  I started to assemble the facts I’d garnered over the past few weeks into something that made sense.  This took all day.  ‘Theories and beliefs’ were still to be dissected.

Talking of beliefs, the Scottish anarchist, Stuart Christie died aged 74.   A legend in his own lifetime, and most famous for his part in a failed plot to assassinate Franco, he never lost his belief in true freedom.  As one commentator observed ‘God or the devil, better be ready for a right good argument… ‘

References:

i. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com

ii. Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/

iii. StandUpX: https://www.standupx.info/