Part 103 – Ship Of Fools

“(They) broke the law and took us all for mugs. If they had any decency they would be gone by tonight” (Lobby Akinnola)

April Fools

Haiga – Threshold

The world ran by a bunch of fools, we didn’t mark the 1st of the month with April Fools jokes.  The grocery bill was mercifully not too hefty but the bags were.  I cursed not asking for Phil’s help lugging them home.  Motivated by persons unknown sweeping the steps at the side of the house, I cleared the gutter Saturday, failing to unblock the end.  Cloudy all weekend, at least it didn’t rain during the free Crossings walk and workshop Sunday.  In the art shed carpark, The Leader made introductions and dished out notebooks.  We set off on familiar paths, noting a profusion of daffodils absent from the riverside 2 weeks ago, along with wood anemones.  Returning on the lesser-travelled Crows path, a walker’s action volunteer related its rescue from developers by residents 12 years ago.  Back at base, we got free tea and cake.  Amazed such project funding still existed, Phil ate 3 pieces.  The workshop proved inspiring although I remained sceptical about the over-use of descriptions.  Featuring heavily in creative writing these days, I suspected it featured in university courses.  Later, I selected photos for the project showcase including a haiga.i

The covid rate at 1:13, Prof Naismith said we were all likely to have BA.2 by summer.  Easter hols starting for some, chaos ensued at ferry terminals and airports.  Officially blamed on absence and covid checks, the shortages were also due to furloughed staff leaving.  Security checks on 220 new recruits awaited, passengers missed flights at Manchester airport and boss Karen Not-So-Smart resigned.  45 buses and 2 Red Cross trucks headed to besieged Mariupol.  Evacuation underway at last, a photo-journalist got shot.  The Pope criticised ‘dictatorial leaders’ and said the world couldn’t ignore the migrant crisis.  As the Oscars academy continued with disciplinary procedures, Will Smith resigned.

Barely able to move Monday morning, after 10 minutes stretching, I got back in bed.  Phil looked offended when I didn’t laugh at his larks but I felt too awful.  I made a big effort to fetch coffee and the laptop.  Going up and downstairs exhausting, pains shot through my head and I became tearful.  Covid infections still rising, the list of symptoms now included fatigue, exhaustion, aching, headaches, sore throats, shortness of breath, blocked or runny nose, loss of appetite, diarrhoea and nausea.  So all of them!  Wondering if I had it, Phil reckoned they were symptoms of living in England.  In fact, additions were to stop people going to work with flu.  Feeling overwhelmed by a ‘to do’ list, I posted the haiga, dispatched photos for the showcase, and worked on blogs.  Except mealtimes, I stayed abed for 3 dull days.

5-11 year olds were offered low dose jabs.  Oil terminal blockades by Just Stop Oil and XR into a third day, 100 protestors were arrested in Kingsbury.  Lucy Powell called the privatisation of Channel 4 ‘cultural vandalism’.  Tracy Brabin feared for Leeds jobs and ‘We Own It’ told Dreadful Doris to keep her hands off.

Less head pain and a bit cheerier Tuesday, I posted an entry on Cool Placesii , stopping writing when head fug set in.  Phil went to the co-op.  Another power cut meant no fresh milk or veg.

The covid Situation in Shanghai ‘extremely grim’, citizens suffered lockdowns and online food shortages.  After visiting Bucha, Vlod addressed the UN security council, saying the worst war crimes since WW2 merited Nuremberg-style trials.  Russian rep Vasily Nebenzya dismissed footage as fake and pro-Putin broadcaster Vlad Solovyov said they chose the name because it sounded like butcher.  Red paint was poured in the propagandist’s Italian villa pools.  Back after a glitch, Jeremy Vine appeared with hand-written signs. As Cuadrilla were given another year to explore fracking in Lancashire, Mike Gammon claimed reports of tremors were Russian propaganda.  Err, no, it’s you believing in conspiracy nonsense!

Eking the last of the fresh milk, Phil made porridge on Wednesday and went to the other shop.  Working on ‘Home from Home’ (see Cool Places 2iii) took most of my day.  After ineffectual quiet time, I went to the kitchen and panicked when I saw no milk, then spotted it in a bag.  Prepping dinner together a bit fraught, I left him to it and dossed on the sofa.  As he sent off photos for the showcase, he asked me to check details but I said it was far too late to think and went back to bed.

While Boris defended the National Insurance rise to fund the NHS and Goblin Saj pressed patients to return, 6 Yorkshire hospitals warned them to stay away from A&E, unless dying.  In the latest sanctions, the UK added 8 Russian oligarchs to the list, froze Sberbank and Credit Bank of Moscow’s assets, banned outward investment and iron and steel imports, and vowed to stop coal imports by the end of the year.  Sanctioning Russian PM Mikhail Mishustin and Putin’s 2 daughters Maryia Putina and Katerina Tikhonova, the US also cut off links with Sberbank as well as Alfa Bank.

Better but lacking energy Thursday, we were sat on the sofa when Phil noticed a reply from the Crossings workshop leader, even though he’d only sent his photos the night before.  I was incensed until I saw she’d e-mailed me too.  Supplies low, I headed to the market in the nithering wind.  What a load of rubbish!  No loo roll or fish, I got a few veg and went in the convenience store to find reduced chicken and bacon, so not a completely wasted trip.

The energy strategy mainly featured hydrogen, offshore wind and nuclear power.  Great British Nuclear had a target to fulfil 25% of demand by 2060, building a power station a year.  There was a £30m competition to make heat pumps, and a new round of licensing for north sea oil and gas from autumn, despite UN calls for rapid cuts in fossil fuel use.  Onshore wind unpopular, it was encouraged with discounts for affected communities.  Keir called it too little too late and: “a cobbled together list of things that should have been done over the last 10 to 12 years…(and) doesn’t even tackle important things like insulating homes…”  Kwarteng had already ordered a report into the science and impact of fracking, but said the pause in extraction would stay unless new evidence showed it was ‘safe, sustainable and of minimal disturbance…’  A 23-mile lorry queue at Dover caused chaos on roads surrounding the M20.  Suspended P&O crossings were blamed – nowt to do with Brexit!  UNHRC threw Russia out.  Ukrainian Foreign minister Dmytro Kuleba begged for weapons to save lives and prevent the war spilling over into other territories.  Beloved Mr Ben creator David McKee died.  My tiny kid-fish brain never clocked there were only 13 episodes!

No Joke

Haiga – The Artist

Friday, I worked on the journal and waited impatiently in the co-op for a man dithering and a cashier fiddling with buttons.  Coming to help, Phil had a cheeky search for long-gone chocolate slabs on the easter display.  Finding none, he said he’d have to go elsewhere but with 3 bars at home, I told him not to bother.  Rising from a siesta, a marked drop in temperature presaged a loud crack of thunder followed by large balls of ice – thunder hail!  It soon turned to rain.  Enjoyment of dinner was marred by Phil telling me Rishi Rich was technically a US resident until recently, thus not paying UK tax.  The scum held a Green Card until October 2021!  He demanded an enquiry into the source of the leak.  The opposition demanded ministers declared their residency status.  Meanwhile, Ms. Murthy said she “understood the British sense of fairness”, coughed up UK tax on her income but remained a non-dom.

Covid rates still high across the UK, they rose in the Yorkshire region to 1:12, but fell slightly in Scotland.  Thousands in hospital but not on ventilators, ONS said it was too soon to say infections were levelling off.  A Russian missile hit a train station in Kramatorsk, killing 50 trying to evacuate before a full-scale offensive.

Phil answered a door knock early Saturday to be handed an easter ‘goody bag’ from the local carers’ group.  Containing a fleece blanket, thermometer, first aid kit, jelly sweets, greetings card, fluffy chick and chocolate bar (making 4 in total), it resembled an elderly care package.  Phil joked about sticking the thermometer up his bum.  I cleaned the living room and he overhauled the kitchen lights, then rested in a bid to ease tummy ache.  His discomfort persisted into Sunday.  That didn’t stop him coming foraging in nearby woods.  At the wild garlic patch, two women approached from below.  Fearing competition, I pretended to take aim but they didn’t stop.  Celandine nestled among the extended crop, creating a salad of yellow and green.  After filling a bag, I picked up a couple of excellent twisty red branches, perfect for hanging decorative easter eggs.  Keeping to the lower meandering path, we magically saw a couple of deer chasing each other.  The Victorian stairways carpeted with crunchy leaves inspired the week’s haiga (for a fuller description, see Cool Places).

P&O said there’d be no Dover ferries until at least Friday.  Stuck in queues and losing thousands a day, meat exporters called for the prioritisation of fresh produce.  Boris went to walk the streets with Vlod and wave – why was he so popular in Kyiv?  As he travelled by car, helicopter, military plane and train, a convoy of Russian tanks headed for Donbas.  The Oscars harshly banned Will Smith for 10 years.

After posting the haiga Monday,  Phil helped evict a mini zoo of larvae and spiders from the bathroom.  Having not fixed the mini mixer, he made wild garlic pesto in the pestle and mortar.

High infection rates having a ‘major impact’, The NHS Confederation felt abandoned and urged government to rethink the ‘living with covid’ plan, reintroduce mitigation, and reinvigorate the public info campaign with renewed focus on mask-wearing and gathering outdoors.  A Number 10 spokesperson said no; thanks to vaccinations, treatments and better understanding, it could be managed similarly to other viruses.

The Tuesday top-up shop was astronomical again.  Was it due to small seasonal additions or rampant inflation?  The Widower looked bemused by easter eggs.  I advised on vegan options for his granddaughter.  The weighty bags made my shoulder ache but it eased off after an unusual 5 minutes afternoon kip.

Smart Energy GB found rising costs led to habit changes and a UCL survey found us more worried by money (38%) than covid (33%).  Anxiety and depression levels the highest for 11 months, 51% didn’t feel in control of their mental health.  Unemployment fell to 3.8%, but with 76,000 economically inactive, there weren’t more jobs.  The Met issued 30 more Partygate FPNs – Boris, Rishi and Carrie Antoinette were included for The Bumbler’s birthday bash.  Apologising, he said he only went for 10 minutes and didn’t know it was a party.  “He should contest the fine then,” advised Phil, “that would be hilarious in court!”  The first sitting PM ever to be exposed breaking the law, the most Covid fines issued in a single street or workplace and more to come, it confirmed Downing Street was full of crooks.  Keir said they’d broken the law, repeatedly lied to the British public, were totally unfit to govern and should resign.  Lobby Akinnola of Bereaved Families agreed they had no authority, took us all for mugs and would be gone by nightfall if they had any decency.  Approval ratings plummeting, Boris reportedly begged Rishi to stay to save Big Dog.  Operation Red Meat looked more like mincemeat!  Evil kids cartoon villain Michael Fabricant subsequently compared it to nurses having a cheeky post-shift drink, justice minister Lord Wolfson resigned and our MP Craigy Babe said they must go.  They didn’t.

Wednesday, I baked an easter cake and wrote.  Not seeming long since the last submission, a message from Valley Life had taken me by surprise.  I considered the feature almost finished but sifting e-mails later in the week, noticed a word limit increase.  How had I missed that for a whole year?  I checked with The Owner who also passed on lovely feedback from ‘a neighbour’.  Probing revealed it to be The Widower.  As earlier rain cleared, I’d have loved an evening walk if I wasn’t dead tired.  Instead, we watched a programme on BBC4 about Stonehenge’s removal from Wales – not stolen as the Welsh claimed, but taken by migrants.

Inflation rose to 7%.  With pre-tax profits of £2.03 billion, Tesco gave staff 1.5% ‘thank you’ bonuses for coping with pandemic, supply chain and inflation challenges.  Pay rises would come in July.  Uncle Joe accused Putin of genocide and the presidents of Poland, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia visited Vlod.

Waking with a scratchy throat for the third morning running Thursday, Echinacea banished it.  Opening the bedroom window, I heard then saw 2 typhoon jets zig-zagging over the next hill.  The laptop misbehaving even after a restart, I persevered with writing but got head fug and hung washing on the line.  Decorating Neighbour was sweeping the street.  I asked if he’d done the steps.  “I don’t go that far.” The co-op bustling, I forgot essential items.  Counsellor Friend was stocking up before joining the great easter getaway.  With no P&O ferries, railway engineering and airport queues, I wished her luck!  Having a nightmare with veg falling on the floor and a cluttered sink, Phil eventually helped.  Knackered, I bemoaned an almost-gone afternoon.  An item in metro on easter laughter disappointingly contained no actual jokes.

UK covid infections fell except Wales, for the first time in 6 weeks, suggesting the surge of BA.2 had passed the peak.  Bonnie Prince Charlie gave out Maundy Money on behalf of the queen.  The latest madcap scheme to deal with dinghy crossings involved putting the navy in charge of the channel and sending migrants to Rwanda.  Copied off Denmark, there were only 100 places under the ‘migration and economic development partnership’ aka offshoring single black men.  Boris said the plan was possible because of Brexit freedoms but conceded it could be legally challenged.  Keir called it unworkable, extortionate and an attempt to distract from Partygate.  Phil mused it might not put people off: “After all, we’re always being told to ‘Visit Rwanda’ on the footie!”  However, interviewees in a Dunkirk camp maintained the crossing was risky but they’d risked much already and pointed out accepting Ukrainians into our homes was double-standards – touché!  The First of stricter UK reception centres at RAF Linton-on-Ouse slated to ‘open soon’, bewildered villagers were up in arms at no consultation.  More sanctions were announced by the UK and EU, against Russian oligarchs who propped up the so-called Donetsk and Luhansk People’s Republic. Imports of iron and steel and exports of quantum tech were banned.

Bridge of Sighs

Haiga – Inner Voice

After I was asked if the photos I sent for the Crossings expo were mine even with my name on, Good Friday, Phil was asked which object he’d written about.  “Can that writing woman not read?” I sighed.  He went shopping for the items I’d forgotten and flowers.  As he tried to put them in a vase, I took over while he toasted hot cross buns for a hasty lunch.  The beautiful roses stayed fresh-looking for over 2 weeks.  Wending up to the upland village, we stopped in the playing fields where Phil allowed a rare snap, later garnering several ‘likes’ on FB.  In time for a mid-afternoon performance, It was lovely to see the Pace Egg play after a 2-year absence, and also the kids and grandkids of Deceased Friend, for their traditional family get-together.  Viewing obstructed, hearing became impossible during the final act because of the chattering classes.  What was the point of going if they were more interested in bragging about themselves than listening?  We made a hasty getaway and were heading downhill when Phil decided he needed a snack from the burger stall outside the pub.  Hearing music, we wandered into the beer garden.  Phil commandeered the one free table while I got the second pints of the day.  As the novelty act doing bad cover versions wore thin, we retreated to the penfold.  A man with 2 dogs hovered at the entrance before letting one loose to run round in an ellipse.  He denied that explained rutted soil beneath a picnic bench.  Methinks he lied!  Despite extreme tiredness, night-time sleep was mediocre.

The next day, the Crossings expo preview invite landed in my in-box but not Phil’s.  Narked at doing ‘work’ at the weekend, Phil said it wasn’t work. “It is for them, and on Easter Saturday to boot!”  Still tired, I stayed home, hung sheets on the line and cleaned.  Meaning to garden in the nice weather, I seemed to run out of time and mislaid flower seed packets.  Phil popped to the shops.  Town rammed with drinkers but no more than expected, we didn’t understand why this weekend was picked to hold a hipster beer festival.  While he was out, I hastily made him a card featuring early spring blooms.

Spring Blooms Card

Birds tweeted in grey pre-dawn light Sunday.  I sighed grumpily, wondering what they had to be so cheerful about and turned over until hazy sunlight made sleeping impossible.  Dull-headed, I forgot it was easter, then remembered to print the card and give it to Phil with a pack of Haribo’s.  He felt bad getting me no confectionary until I reminded him we had stacks of chocolate and he got me flowers.

To refresh fuddled brains, we took a leisurely stroll west on the canal, avoiding squawking geese protecting their nests, admiring showy tulips and chatting to The Biker outside his houseboat.  Complementing the restoration of his granddad’s plane, we agreed they didn’t make tools like that anymore.  A sign on the chicken farm honesty box helpfully informed us turkey eggs were like hens eggs but bigger!  Tempted by a promise of refreshments in the pavilion, we stepped onto the diminutive stone bridge to the cricket club.  No match on, it was closed.  We rested on an equally picturesque bridge near the lock.  Serving also as a crossing point, an arrow indicating Warland, prompted Phil to invent a film plot wherein puritan villagers refused to accept the civil war was over.

Archbishop Welby called the Rwanda ploy ‘ungodly’.  Responding in The Times, Nasty Patel said it was ‘bold and innovative’ and challenged anyone to come up with a better idea.  How about opening safe, legal routes for migrants?  Charities lambasted the Nationality and Borders Bill for not preventing child trafficking.  Theresa May later added she couldn’t support the policy on the grounds of ‘legality, practicality and efficacy’ as it split families and encouraged trafficking of women and children.  Patel refused to reveal eligibility criteria.  Gammons were incensed at small print allowing Rwandans to come to the UK in exchange.

The laptop very noisy Monday, Phil stopped the daft MS newsfeed.  Accompanied by music, I started spring cleaning the study, finding the mislaid wildflower seeds behind the desk.  Outside planting one in a pot, a neighbour from across the way asked if I knew which cat visited her garden.  “They all look the same to me!”  Unbelievably, The Great Escape was the best bank holiday film on telly all weekend, apart from Barabbas.

Face-masks no longer mandatory but ‘strongly advised’ in Scotland, spotted without one at a barbers, Sturgeon was again called a hypocrite.  Police had words.  In their latest covid wave, Shanghai reported 3 deaths bringing the overall total to 4,641 – still lots less than the UK.  Shats launched the gimmicky half-price rail tickets wheeze with a cheesy YouTube videoiv.

Tuesday a boring round of chores, writing and shopping, in the evening, I returned a missed call from Aunty.  She liked the old postcards of her locality I’d sent her with easter greetings.  Found in a charity shop, I promised to send more if they turned up.  Using the last of the bargain chicken to make soup, we’d got 4 dinners for £2.50  (and a lunch).  The affordable alternative to veganism!

Swiss Toni said Boris’ FPN was like getting a speeding ticket.  Ed Davey spluttered that was ‘an insult to bereaved families’.  Alastair Campbell contested the claim Blair got a speeding fine while in office, pointing out security disallowed driving.  It later emerged The Bumbler racked up £4,000 in speeding tickets while at GQ magazine.  In the commons, he repeatedly apologised to MPs, acknowledged the ‘hurt and anger caused’, but insisted it didn’t occur to him it breached rules.  Keir said he dragged everyone down to his level.  Saying he wasn’t worthy of holding office, Mark Harper publicised a letter to the 1922 committee.  Referral to the Privileges Committee and more fines imminent, ministers repeated pleas to await the full Sue Gray report.  The economic forecast bleak with the war and covid, the IMF judged the impact on the UK particularly severe with growth down to 1.2% in 2023 because of the ‘triple whammy’ of fuel, food and tax rises.  ¾ of civil servants still working from home, Rees Moggy told them to go back to the office.  The missive including tables of who was working where, FDA union’s Dave Penman said ministers were ‘vindictive’ and behaving like luddites’, when the private sector embraced flexible working.

On PMQs Wednesday, Boris conveyed 96th birthday greetings to the queen and informed us he was going to India.  Keir said once the cameras were off for the public apology, Boris went to his backbenchers to privately blame everyone else and say Welby wasn’t critical enough of Putin, when actually the archbishop said the Ukraine invasion was ‘an act of great evil’.  He invited the PM to apologise for slander, getting a flat ‘no’ in response.   Ian Blackford claimed 82% of Scots thought Boris lied.  While the commons debated the Buildings Safety Bill, protestors complained it didn’t help everyone affected by the cladding scandal.

The NOA found government departments uncoordinated on foreign travel rules with no assessment of the impact on the industry.  1:9 workers in insecure jobs, Frances O’Grady joined Zero Hours Justice’s Julian Richer and Living Wage Foundation’s Katharine Chapman to criticise delaying the Employment Bill announced in 2019: “Boris Johnson has done nothing to show he is serious about upgrading workers’ rights,” she said.  1.5 million cancelled streaming subs.  Prime and Netflix the last to go, did it explain splitting the current season of popular Ozark?  Just Eat and gambling firm 888 also haemorrhaged customers. A longitudinal study confirmed what I already knew – anti-depressants didn’t improve long-term quality of life.

Holed up in the Azovstal Steel works, Mariupol die-hards worried they were in their final hours and Vlod offered to exchange them for captured Russian soldiers.  The next day, Putin claimed victory in the city and ordered a ring around the steel plant.  Moscow tested a new ICBM to make anyone threatening them ‘think twice’.  Satan 2 wasn’t yet ready for deployment.  The Inflow of oil and gas profits bolstering the Rouble, Germany planned to stop using Russian energy products by the end of the year.  Wimbledon banned Russian and Belarussian tennis players.

Thursday, I tweaked the Valley Life article, cleaned the bedroom and hung sheets on the line.  Bright and breezy, they twisted up but dried quick.  Phil went to Leeds just after I went to town for a whizz round shops.  Picking up bin-end wine and a ½-price easter egg, I waited in the convenience store for a man chucking stuff in a sack.  What looked like a big shop, was actually parcels for delivery.  Wanting to linger in sun, pedestrian areas were fully occupied thanks to school hols.  A dumb couple stood on the bridge, commenting on the number of bridges.  ‘Err, there are rivers, you morons!’ I muttered.  I went home to weed the garden.  The Widower walked his dog past.  Enquiring how he was coping, he replied ‘okay’.  The underlying sigh belied his brave face. Thanking him for his nice words to Valley Life, he said they weren’t ‘nice’, but true.  How lovely!  Out of breath and fatigued, I went to lie down and retired early for a bath that night.  Suffering insomnia, the meditation tape eventually sent me into unrefreshing sleep.

The Valneva vaccine was approved for UK use, making 6 in total.  A man tested covid-positive on 505 consecutive days before dying, suggesting variants could evolve in persistent cases.  Medics wanted better treatments for the vulnerable.  While Boris posed in a turban, William Wragg echoed other back-benchers sick of defending the indefensible.  A motion to refer Boris to the Privileges Committee carried without a vote.  Designs to put the investigation on hold until police inquires concluded, were scrapped.  The Met said no fines would be issued before elections 5th May because of ‘restrictions around communicating’.  Local candidates included Freedom Alliance – Stop the Great Reset.  Their concerns of a global public-private partnership had some validity but not the conspiracy view that covid was a mechanism to control us all!

Sinking Ships

Crossings Exhibit – Installation

Phil had even less shuteye so we both felt unrest Friday.  Rushing out, we barely paused to greet new people on the street or admire profusive spring flowers.  At the Crossings show preview, project workers and the workshop leader directed us to our group’s work on the outer walls of small sheds.  We acknowledged fellow participants and extricated ourselves from an over-friendly acquaintance.  Of other exhibits, children’s print work stood out.  One kid made a print of Blackpool, cos nothing says nature like Blackpool!

Crossings Exhibit – Blackpool Print

We congratulated the friendly printer responsible on training the next generation.  Outdoor displays featuring wood, natural paint and ceramics, were much easier to photograph than indoors where pictures were defaced by reflections.

Art appreciation over, we followed a sign to ‘The Crags’.  Previously unexplored, we climbed the curated curious before a protracted return route.  A flagging Phil griped of miles to go so we switched to an upper path.  I went home to unshod hot, tired feet.  He went to the shop, ran into the over-friendly acquaintance again and got yet more ½-price easter eggs (for a fuller description, see Cool Places).

Wanting a trade deal by Diwali, Boris hinted at more immigration from India into high skilled jobs in return for reduced tariffs on British machinery.  He also pledged to help them build fighter jets to lessen reliance on Russia but didn’t push Nodi on neutrality.  At the JCB plant in Gujarat, owned by tory donor Lord Bamford, he didn’t mention the destruction of Muslim’s homes by their bulldozers.

Drained after a long afternoon out, I stayed home Saturday apart from a trip to the co-op.  Very quiet for a weekend, there was hardly any veg but plenty of oil, despite reports of rationing.  Along with potatoes, cereal and chicken feed, it apparently all came from Ukraine.  Nowt to do with Brexit or P&O ferries!  Was the war also responsible for HRT shortages?  At the kiosk, my mate’s eyebrows shot up as a colleague told him his pregnant partner wanted a gender reveal party.  I observed: “but what if it doesn’t want to be that gender? ‘How very dare you assume my gender before I’m even born?’ It would say.”  An eavesdropping woman added: “Nothing surprises me anymore!”(see Tales from the Co-opv).

On Sunday Morning, the hideous Piers Morgan said firms had a dilemma balancing staff being in offices and at home.  Oliver Dowdy maintained Boris gave a ‘clear explanation’ of events leading to fines and we should balance that with other matters.  In an unfortunate analogy, he said the PM still had ‘fuel in the tank to deliver for this country’.  Asked how much more of the ‘drip, drip’ they could withstand, he blathered about focusing on the national security crisis.  What was he on about? The war was in Ukraine not the UK!

We went in search of blossom in the park.  At various stages of growth, some had already blown off and dandelions outnumbered the cherry.  Having noted the music café was rebranded ‘Charlie’s – not attracting the young hip crowd, but OAPs supping a nice cup of tea – we investigated other changes in town.  With a closed bank now a daft pub, several ice cream sellers and a pointless melts outlet, Phil remarked: “It’s full of people from out of town selling crap to people from out of town – like a northern Cotswolds!”  However, we got more bin-end wine and bargain easter eggs (the most I’d ever had, even in childhood).  Coming back, we came across German Friend and empathised on the struggles of processing the passing of friends.

Some tories told MOS that Rayner, lacking Boris’ Etonian debating skills, distracted him by crossing and uncrossing her legs at PMQs.  What tripe!  She could make mincemeat of him!  She tweeted: ‘Women in politics face sexism and misogyny every day…This is the latest dose of gutter journalism..”  She later added it was classist too.  A colleague said: “Just when you think the Conservative party can’t get any lower they outdo themselves. (They) clearly have a problem with women in public life.”  Even Boris decried the piece.  Meanwhile, 56 sex misconduct allegations included 3 cabinet ministers and 2 shadows.  As ship Albatroz sunk, 47 barrels of diesel created  a slick, threatening The Galapagos’ giant turtles.

Haiga – Impressions

Wobbly and heavy headed, I started to exercise Monday morning, when a throat niggle progressed to my ear and nose.  Annoyed at a second bout of illness that month, Phil reckoned I’d caught covid at the art show.  Feasible, seeing as the last one immediately followed the workshop, but vile phlegm implied the usual sinus lark. 

Either way, it rendered me bed-ridden for much of the week, apart from essential chores and spells on the sofa. 

After posting a haiga and Cool Places updates, I got head fug and settled down with a book when Phil noisily announced he was going for a rest.  I ask you!  I slept for 1 minute.

Idiot Epstein informed Jeremy Vine that Rishi was rich because he was good with money.  Hmm – It’s easy to be good with money when you have piles to start with!  Rees-Moggy put memos on empty Whitehall desks saying ‘I look forward to seeing you in the office soon’.  In a rare moment of not talking claptrap, Dreadful Doris called the passive-aggressive bullying ‘Dickensian’.  Life expectancy down in deprived areas over the last 3 years, covid was partly blamed.  In Kyiv, Lloyd Austin and Anthony Blinken said ‘Ukraine is succeeding’ and promised more munitions.  Following weekend attacks on the Azovstal steel plant, Russian strikes targeted fuel and rail facilities.  After Micron was re-elected president of France, cops killed 3 protestors.

Tuesday, I okayed the Valley Life proof and worked on blogs.  Suffering brain fog, I stopped writing and submitted photos to the larger arts festival exhibition.  Phil went to the co-op.  Disturbed by the door slamming on his return and loud talking on the street below, so-called ‘quiet time’ was a write-off.  As he’d bought 3 kinds of spuds, I cooked loads for dinner, getting backache and narky.

The Bumbler convened Cabinet to invent ideas to address the cost of living crisis without spending extra money.  They came up with encouraging more uptake of child and pension credits, cutting import tariffs and childcare ratios and extending MOT’s to 2 years.  The Guardian accused them of trashing health and safety.  Boris threatened to privatise DVLA and the passport office.  Delightfully-named Ian Snowball, landlord of the Showtime bar, Huddersfield, faced a £6,000 fine for allowing a punter to sip ale while standing to play beer pong during restrictions.  Talk about disproportionality!  IPPR reported 400,000 quitting work due to ill health, leading to ‘terminally low productivity’.  Elon Musk bought twitter for $44 bn.  Right-wingers thrilled by the promise of less moderation, others feared more fake news, bigotry and conspiracy drivel.  After The Insolvency Service began criminal and civil proceedings over redundancies, shit-show P&O failed to further reduce wages.  Intending to restart the Dover-Calais ferry Spirit of Britain for freight from Wednesday, The European Causeway lost power half an hour from Larne and limped back.  As more weapons were sent to Ukraine, Serge warned of ‘world war by proxy’ and again raised the prospect of nuclear attacks.  Antonio Guterres went to Moscow, incensing Vlod by not visiting Kyiv first.

Barrels of Fun

Unappreciated Dandelions

Wednesday, I fetched the coffee, for which Phil tossed me 10p.  It disappeared like a crap magic trick.  At PMQs, Keir attacked the government’s approach to the cost of living crisis.  Boris threw out figures and metaphors.  Keir quipped that was his fab debating skills we’d heard about!  He then asked ironically if being the only country to raise taxes had made things better or worse?  Ian Blackford cited Trussell Trust research that 830,000 children depended on food parcels and urged him to look for ideas beyond the cabinet, such as raising child payments like in Scotland.  He could also have cited food parcel demand (up 44% in Yorkshire), 59% of the population making lifestyle changes to cut spending and 18% having no disposable income.  Cathy Gardner and Fay Harris won a high court case against PHE and The Cock for discharging untested patients to care homes where their dads’ died of covid.  Invited by Daisy Cooper to apologise, Boris insisted they didn’t know the virus was transmitted asymptomatically.  Court evidence proved otherwise.  A PHE paper passed to Sage early 2020 concluded ‘asymptomatic transmission cannot be ruled out’, another warned ‘pre-symptomatic transmission…constituted a very substantial proportion of all transmission,’ and top medic Pat Vallance said likewise on the Today Programme, 13th March.

Fatigued by the antics, I rested.  At least external noise was more ambient this time.  At coffee time, Phil cadged from my depleting filter supplies, saying he’d buy me more if I gave him 50p.  A bargain, I said he could have the 10p back, which had turned up among the sheets.

Rayner called Lord Geidt clearing Rishi of any wrongdoing an ‘utter whitewash’.  Editor David Dillon refused to meet Lindsay Hoyle.  Carol Brexit informed Jeremy Vine that 4 tories heard the Ashton MP jest about using her legs to distract Boris.  The Chief Whip promised action against a tory caught watching porn.  After letting rumours accusing others to circulate, Neil Parish was suspended Friday, said he got onto the porn site by accident looking for tractors but re-visited it, then resigned Saturday.  Following more EU sanctions against 50 oligarchs and companies including Gazprom, Russia cut the gas off to Bulgaria and Poland.  How did you sanction a company you traded with?  Greenpeace called imports of 1.9 million oil barrels since the start of the war, ‘utterly disingenuous’ when the UK vowed less reliance on Russian supplies.  GSK reported a £9.8 billion turnover in the first quarter, thanks in part to anti-viral drug Xevudy.  Meanwhile, treatments for tremors involved zapping neurons and the first person treated for Parkinson’s with a Deep Brain Stimulation implant, declared a miracle.  York councillors divested Prince Andy of Freedom of the City.

Eyes shutting while reading, I hoped to be less fatigued Thursday.  Sadly not.  Phil went to the market for bog paper (only loose rolls available) and fishy bits.  The shrimps were from Holland.  Full import checks on European goods further delayed, supermarkets were happy, but exporters facing red tape and ports having built unnecessary infrastructure, weren’t.  The benefits of Brexit eh, Moggy?  Was that taking back control?

A tweeter thought it fun to relabel BA ‘British Wokeways’ for refusing to fly migrants to Rwanda over fears of a backlash.  Charter flights would add to an already astronomical £120 million for the scheme.  A whopping £30,000 each, Phil reckoned it’d be cheaper to give people the money to go home.  In more commons sleaze, Jamie Wallis was charged with a hit and run, Imran Khan belatedly submitted a resignation letter (after getting another full month’s pay), Liam Byrne was suspended for 2 days, and a female MP was called ‘a secret weapon’ as all the men wanted to sleep with her.  Ben Wally said they should avoid ‘toxic bars’ and Sue Braverman claimed there wasn’t a ‘pervasive culture’ of misogyny but some bad apples.  Yes, but it only took one to rot the whole barrel!  Keir said he took all allegations seriously and hoped colleagues had confidence in the complaints procedure.  On QT, Jon Ashworth agreed the cost of living was the most important issue but connected to Partygate because tories were disconnected and dismissed people’s real concerns as ‘silly’.  Mims Davies wittered about jobs and floundered trying the defend the migrant policy against accusations of being ‘pick and choose’.  After telling Iain Dale Channel 5 had thrived when it was privatised (it was never public!) an unusually sober Dreadful Doris came on Newscast to prate about impartiality and privatising Channel 4 even though 96% were against it.

Friday, Phil said he needed a haircut: “I look like I’m from a Britpop band.” “No you don’t. Mines’ worse.” “It does need colouring in.” “Thanks!” I sat abed writing until hungry and hot, considered getting lunch but he brought it to me.  Perhaps staying put was a good thing, because I felt much better on a bright Saturday.  I went to the rag market to buy haberdashery from friendly stall-holders then waited for Phil to come to an exhibition of historic photos by a local celeb.  On the way, we were waylaid by falling blossom and dandelions.  I later created a Facebook album but the dazzling yellow blooms went unappreciated.  Balking at a £5 suggested donation, we contributed by purchasing juice.  Phil’s photography mate had planned the showing for 2020.  They bemoaned work being on hold since covid and I sympathised with his travails being interviewed for a documentary.  I could talk for England but stick me in front of camera, I was dumbstruck!

550 Network Rail upgrade projects over the bank holiday weekend, cleaners and conductors’ strikes meant TPE only ran a small number of (dirty) services.  Roads were predicted to be quiet.  A good job with herds of animals on the M62 at Eccles and Brighouse.  Madelaine McTernan who worked on the covid vaccine rollout, was appointed HRT tsar.  Demand up thanks to The Davina Effect, I felt I was missing out not taking it.

References:

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

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

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

iv. Shat’s gimmicky rail sale video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iheo0km3xHE

v. Tales from the Co-op: Notes on life, the universe and stuff that sucks: Tales from the Co-op Vol 5 (maryc1000.blogspot.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 9 – Lexicography

Flouters and Charlatans

1 - Art in the Making
Art in the Making

Tuesday morning, we both felt slightly unwell.  The persistent scratchy throat and heavy feeling in my gut signalled heightened anxiety, with no apparent specific cause.  I forced myself to get up.  The university researcher’s brief looked interesting.  I indicated consent to contribute and amended documents to include my name and copyright.  This took a while but were now formatted for potential future uses.  , I managed some more work on the journal but my head became heavy. I went for a lie down.  Inevitably, noisy socialising on the street below prevented proper rest.  As the evening trees were touched by soft light, my annoyance and depression at still feeling ill and fatigued grew. I desperately needed to get out for fresh air, vitamins, and exercise – my legs were seizing up!

Fatal cases of Covid-19 hit 32k in the UK, overtaking Italy to become the second highest globally.  Matt Cock still wittered about different counting methods making the data incomparable.  He would have been wise to shut his gob; many deaths in care homes had not been recorded as Coronavirus-related, so the rate was probably even higher.  Amid much vaunting, the Contact Tracing app, NHSX,, was piloted on the Isle of Wight.  Amnesty International warned it opened ‘the door to pervasive state surveillance’.  The  local MP, Silly Bob, dismissed concerns associated with the use of personal data and how the app would work in practice, patronisingly saying “it’s simples!”

Wednesday brought some improvements as the throat discomfiture changed from a scratch to a tight feeling.  Morning news revealed a couple of high-profile lockdown flouters.  A SAGE boffin, involved in setting the rules, resigned as his girlfriend was caught visiting his home.  Nasty Nigel was filmed pointing at ‘illegal immigrants’ sailing on dinghies into Dover. With characteristic bare-faced cheek, he claimed to be ‘an essential journalist’ when in fact, he is nought but a charlatan!  Matt Cock told MP DR Allin-Khan to ‘change her tone’ as she quizzed him on the lack of testing leading to lost lives.  So, the opposition was not allowed to ask factual questions without being patronised?  Yet more evidence, if any were needed, of the sheer conceitedness of the self-righteous right-wing!

The morning flew by as I worked on the journal, placed an Ocado order and watched PMQ’s.  Bumbling Boris arrogantly arrived late and declared a target of 200,000 tests a day by the end of May even though the current 100,00 target was only met for one day last week.

2 - Supermoon in a Pink Sky
Supermoon Rising

At the start of the week, Phil cast about for an excuse to go out.  With no shop requirements, he suggested going to look for goslings, snapped by a fellow photographer on the marina.  Hoping they’d still be there we set off in the late afternoon sun.  Kids’ chalk drawings on the pavement suggested a home-school project in progress.

We waited for a neighbour coming up the steps.  “It’s so strange walking round (toy town*) now, she remarked, “but I quite like it.  Apart from missing the charity shops. I’ve got no summer clothes.” I sympathised as I also missed them, but little else (see below).

As she reached the top step, a slipper-wearing man with a mini dog rudely overtook us.  The usual hippies milled about on the main road.  At the marina, we spotted geese, pigeons, a wagtail, a pile of pallets and a small family sat on the cobbles, but no goslings.  In the memorial gardens, displaced pub-goers socialised on benches while in the park, children weaved about on bikes.  The ‘wild flower’ patch was a riot of dandelions.  On the less-trod playing field, they sprouted alongside daisies.  Exiting onto the towpath, signs redolent of Royston Vasey proclaimed ‘local use only’.  Fish swam beneath bright ripples in the canal, but still no sign of goslings.

At twilight we took simple pleasure in the last full supermoon of the year rising into a pink sky.

Vagaries of Easement

3 - IBM Summit Supercomputer
IBM Summit Supercomputer

Press speculation abounded on the ‘Exit Roadmap’ due Thursday.  ‘Easement’ added to the lexicography of lockdown.  Predicted to include permitting more outdoor activity in England, Sturgeon’s ’blueprint’ for Scotland included the idea of a social ‘bubble’ allowing mixing within wider circles.  The ping-pong on masks continued with Keir Hardy saying they were inevitable in confined spaces and public transport.  Medical ‘experts’ remained vague, with arguments on whether the risk from aerosol transmission of the virus was a real risk, compared to droplets from the infected.  A woman from IBM (whose Summit supercomputer was being used for project to fight the virus) mused on different future models of working; that would be ‘the new normal’ then!  Interestingly, the Newsnight presenter echoed my observation that people had finally realised we didn’t need all that consumption or to fly about willy-nilly.

My now habitual early shopping expedition entailed a short wait at the co-op, with 1 person ahead of me.  Inside, it was moderately busy but relatively stress-free.  Possibly due to less dawdlers, or to a new system for coding my list by section making it easier to find things on each aisle.  Not getting everything I needed, I scored reduced scampi.   Phil said we should have it with chips and tinnies outside, to replicate a pub dinner.  Of course we didn’t – the scampi wasn’t as good as the pub anyway.

I expected coffee to be waiting for me on my return, but Phil had been ‘rescuing’ a beetle from the bathroom.  I’d noticed it indoors the night before and assumed it had been carried on our jeans from the park.  However, it returned to the house over the weekend, so maybe it belonged here.  As I tried to deal with the groceries in the kitchen, he started washing up . I became angry and shouted “ get out of my way!”  He stomped upstairs, retorting: “There’s no point being in here is there?  And you’ve been less than half an hour!”  I checked myself, not realising the errands had been so quick, and apologised.

Hanging washing out, I met the woman and young girl staying next door for the first time.  I introduced myself in a neighbourly way, prompting for the courtesy to be reciprocated.  (The girl’s unusual name gave me an idea for ‘Felling Oakes’).  The woman said they’d moved from ‘up tops’ to be nearer town during lockdown but added “It looks like we’re coming out of it now.”  “Err, no we’re not!” I replied.

I finally got rid of the pesky last bit of mould on the bathroom window.  During my rest, I enjoyed the scent of clean sheets that had dried outside, but didn’t really relax.  Although quiet outside for a change, my mind churned with mundane crap.  If it wasn’t one thing it was the other!  In an effort to deal with at least 1 small issue and replenish dwindling bathing supplies, I placed a Boots order online, spending enough to qualify for free home delivery – a good job with collect in store no longer an option.

It turned out the PPE ordered by the government from Turkey was rubbish, after waiting days for an RAF flight to fetch it!  Evening figures showed coronavirus infections up again In England (specifically in care homes) and still rising in Scotland.  Data suggested morbidity was 4 times higher among ethnic minorities.  Although full analysis hadn’t taken place, socio-economic and geographical factors were likely the main reasons.  No doubt compounded by the fact that a disproportionately high number worked in low-paid and public sector jobs.  Regardless of this backdrop, cabinet meeting discussions continued to suggest ‘easement’ with people allowed to go on longer walks and have picnics from next week.  With the imminent bank holiday, I predicted pre-emptive flouting.  Phil said everyone had enough of lockdown and they’d just start to ignore it. He frequently whinged about the restrictions but I quite liked some aspects of it.

Watching Jeremy Vine the next day, he asked ‘was it wrong to say you’re enjoying lockdown?’  I tweeted that while bragging or gloating about the joys of lockdown smacked of smugness, I didn’t mind it.  Suffering from chronic fatigue and other health issues for several years, my life hadn’t changed much and I’d developed lots of coping strategies.  A supportive partner who made me laugh several times a day helped massively.  And for once, I was actually better off than a lot of working people – unlike some people’s income, my ESA would continue (although I had to fight for over a year to have it re-instated just before Christmas).  The situation also took a lot of pressure off to go to appointments for example (the prospect of another ATOS assessment seemed very remote).  While missing the charity shops, I hated grocery shopping with the stupid random shortages and mindless idiots wandering about.  It really heightened my stress and anxiety levels.  What I really missed was seeing friends and not being able to plan trips out.

On Question Time, Useless George couldn’t answer questions on the practicalities of contact-tracing.  Challenged on why the government loved the graphs when they showed the UK doing well compared to other countries but now showed the opposite, he parroted claims that the data was unreliable and comparisons couldn’t be made – more flannel and deflection.  A few days later, they stopped showing the graphs altogether!

VE Day In The Bubble

4 - Pathetic Bunting
Pathetic Bunting

Rising on Friday morning, I felt woozy and the scratchy throat returned, albeit mild.  Forgetting it was VE day until I put the telly on, I wondered why the footage of celebrations always showed London.  What happened elsewhere?

Computer work took up most of the morning; far from super.  Unable get a re-worked ‘Corvus Bingo’  to display properly, I became very annoyed, gave up and hung washing on the line instead.  The pole was stuck and as I tried to loosen it, the end broke off raising my anger.  Phil set about fixing it in spite of my protests.  I wanted to leave it in favour of lunch and a walk in the sun.  I stomped off to clean up and make butties, by which time he’d fixed the pole; so no need to get worked up (again!)  Predictably late afternoon by the time we ventured out, we didn’t get far.

5 - Hippies in Anti-Lockdown Demo
Hippies in Anti-Lockdown Demo

Jolly laughter, bursts of terrible music and milling about implied people on the street below were actually having a party – still ongoing into the evening.  Evidence of beer-swigging emerged a few days later as the crashing sound of empty bottles being tipped into the recycling collection cart lasted several minutes.

 

On our street, neighbours of the adjacent terrace socialised in their own self-created ‘bubble’.  Mr. Fast n Furious raced up and parked in the middle of the thoroughfare for no apparent reason, stood there a few minutes with engine idling, then reversed out with equal speed.  We gave all a wide berth and walked through clouds of floating dandelion seeds on the long way into town, giggling at pathetic bunting in ‘Brexit Close’. A sole person occupied a bench in the square.  I discovered a couple of days later that we’d avoided an anti-lockdown demo. Some Googling unearthed a photo of 8 hippies, including the stupid arty German couple (the man had proudly used it as his updated profile pic).  I recalled the encounter a few weeks ago and was not surprised they were part of the small band of ‘covidiots’!  Supportive comments on social media included sociopaths asserting that only old people, smokers, the obese and diabetics died of Covid-19.  So it was alright to let whole sections of the population perish then was it?  And they called us the Nazis!   Incensed local dignitaries railed back, branding them selfish and arrogant.

I’d always said toy town was like a bubble, with residents having no clue about the real world outside the valley (confirmed by the supreme shock and disbelief displayed at the result of the 2016 Brexit referendum). Thus the several pockets of flouters, conspiracy-theorists and deniers hadn’t surprised me.

Getting a few errands, we popped in the fancy wine shop to smirk at the exorbitant prices and dance to Sister Sledge.  After purchasing the fabled goat meat from the very local butchers, we aimlessly wandered towards the people’s pizza van.  The smoky wood smell was a big draw but competed with the stink of draw towards the aqueduct.  We crossed to the other side of the lock to avoid the idiotic bank holiday smokers and drinkers, enjoying a quiet patch of sunlight.  Along the towpath, the angry white geese noisily defended their territory against half-breed ducks.  One, a mix of mallard and runner duck, swam in an ungainly fashion, struggling to keep its long neck up .  At the next exit point, we spotted another wagtail in the river.  Nearby, we hailed a couple of friends in their garden, chatting safely from the other side of the wall.  He had been furloughed and she’d sensibly given up work as a self-employed painter for the duration, enjoying the rest. That made at least two other people liking the slower pace of life!

In a change from most days, VE Day celebrations topped the evening news, with footage shot outside London for once, including a Polish war hero living in the next village – who knew!  Latest reports on the expected relaxing of lockdown included some small changes likely for Wales while Sturgeon insisted her hand would not be forced, regardless of what happened in other UK nations.  The government warned against expecting much change in England. Too late!  The right-wing press had already reported the unconfirmed broadcasts in a warped way (amid rumours of deliberate leakage).  And look what happened in toy town!  I said it was asking for trouble announcing the announcement.

Idiocracy

6 - Haiga - Know Your Limits
Haiga – Know Your Limits i

Busy indoors Saturday, I didn’t benefit from the persistent sunshine. Phil still suffered from back pain and continued with his gig-economy job.  He made $300 for the week for the first time since he started it ‘for Christmas’ – not bad going seeing as he only got $1 per question.

The brown soda bread I made looked a little over-baked but tasted good with a cakey texture.  As it contained a touch of honey, I thought I’d add sunflower seeds next time; if I could find more wholemeal flour, not seen for the past 6 weeks.   Phil cut and dyed my hair.  Long overdue, it had turned ‘nothing colour’ (aka grey) and the fringe fell over my eyes.  I felt a stone lighter afterwards. Finally managing to format ‘corvus bingo’, I then had trouble posting it on Facebook.  Annoyed again, l almost threw the laptop across the room!

Phil finally got round to his DIY task in the bathroom.  The full tube of sealant we had struggled to find last weekend, was totally gunked up.  Having already gouged out the old stuff, it left a hole behind the washbasin.  Why are these things never straight-forward?

As Sunday turned cold, and we awaited a new tube of sealant to arrive, I decided to start the painting.  I found a veritable spider’s nest behind the far bathroom cupboard, testament to how rarely I bothered to move it.  I also discovered more mould between the bath and sink.  I applied the treatment then spent ages searching for the right paint, even though I had dug it out a week ago and left it in an obvious place –  it had fallen into a carrier bag.  After all the prep, it took 10 minutes to paint the offending wall.  Meanwhile, Phil made us a small lunch of ‘hors d’oeuvres’ (i.e., Ritz crackers topped with humus, sliced olives and cheese triangles – very 1970’s!)

Previews of Bumbling Boris’ statement being vague, I watched it live.  He blathered and blustered for the most part, insisting the strategy (sic) had “prevented catastrophe” of 10m deaths (what happened to 20k being a ‘good outcome?).  The hitherto clear message to ‘stay home’ was replaced by the vague ‘stay alert’ (As one doctor said, that could mean not being asleep!)  In fact, the whole slogan had been re-worded to: ‘Stay alert; Control the virus; Save lives.  Inevitable memes took the piss.  He wittered on about a ’shape of a plan’ and promised more details on the “way ahead” in parliament the next day, with questions from the public during the briefing (there were already tons!)  “We could do lots of things”, he continued, “but cannot risk going back to square one” before repeating the 5 key tests and banging on about a Covid Alert System.  He promised to reverse the epidemic in care homes and the NHS with a ‘world beating’ test and trace system and to detect flare-ups in local areas.  At last, he got to the crux of the matter saying it was “not the time to lift lockdown (but) to modify measures”, to be done initially in 3 steps.

‘From tomorrow… go to work if you cannot work from home’.  In fact it was ‘actively encouraged’ while  being discouraged from using public transport.  As they were still ‘working on’ guidance for employers, people were expected to travel to work in potentially unsafe conditions, to potentially unsafe workplaces.  It smacked of a cynical ploy to stop ‘dependency’ on furlough and benefits; forcing people back to work after telling them not to for the past 6 weeks!

From Wednesday, unlimited time outdoors was allowed, including golf, fishing and skateboarding and driving to places, as long as you came back on the same day and obeyed social distancing rules, with increased fines for flouters.

From 1st June, there would be a phased re-opening of shops and schools; starting with primary years 1 and 6.  They were ‘setting out’ guidance for the education sector.  How on earth did he expect 5-year olds to social distance?  Phil remarked he’d run away from all his sprogs so far, thus having no idea how kids behaved!

Sometime in July, some hospitality would re-open.  All steps were ‘ conditional on following advice and rules’ and would be monitored.  Quarantine would also ‘soon’ be imposed on those flying into the UK (making me re-ask why this had not already been done.  Predictably, airlines went up in arms).

More argument ensued over the coming days as it was branded ‘vague, confusing and disappointing’. Keir Hardy said it raised ‘more questions than answers’ Apparently, Boris didn’t tell cabinet, let alone parliament, what he was going to say.  Another;  product of Scumbag Cumberbatch or just total disregard for democracy?

Monday morning, noise in the early hours woke me several  times.  Honking geese started up about 4.00 a.m.  The cacophony of their ‘dawn chorus’ jarred, unlike that of the tweety birds.  Then various works started up.  Some people did not waste time when the rules changed!  Between these interruptions, I had vivid dreams involving going to a weird holiday place.  While observing social distancing, much running amok took place.  I spent the morning posting blogs.  By coincidence, the red windows reflected in the canal on the photo I used, were painted by the friend I’d chatted to on Fridayi.

In the news, Matt Cock’s neck was on the line, following a furious row with number 10. He was blamed for failures in the system including shortages of PPE, strengthening speculation that he would be the fall guy.

Later in parliament,  the government was challenged on claims that the new guidance was ‘clear’ and ‘good old-fashioned British common sense’.  The promised 50 page document had huge gaps.

Keir made a statement insisting we still needed clarity, re-assurance and detail on unanswered questions: Do people go to go to work or school without a guarantee of safety?  Was there a clear direction for the sketchy ‘roadmap’? Would public transport be safe? When could we see our loved ones? How were employees meant to balance childcare with working? How would the police enforce the rules? (they are after all, guidance, not laws!)   He also drew attention to the daft situation of different rules in different nations of the UK and said he was ‘determined to build better society’ when all this was over; we couldn’t go back to ‘business as usual’ with NHS staff not being valued and care homes treated as second class.  ‘Getting through’ would be due to the courage of key workers, and the resilience and human spirit of ordinary people, not the blithering idiots in power.

Bumbling Boris led the briefing with questions from the public, but I’d had enough by then.  Subsequent commentaries expounded the view the vagueness was a cynical ploy to shift blame from the government to the voters.  A friend posted a link on Facebook to a petition to sue the government on how they’d handled the pandemic.  I added my signature, fully aware that it was a waste of time – after all, they are the ones with the power and vast teams of lawyers behind them, enabling them to wheedle their way through the loopholes!

*A note on ‘toy town’ – an old private joke

References:

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

Part 5 – A Moveable Feast

Game of Thrones

1 - Haiga – Clocking It
Haiga – Clocking It i

Tuesday 7th April stayed bright and sunny.  I also felt brighter after a full 8 hours sleep, but Phil seemed subdued.  On asking what was wrong, he initially said “nothing”, then re-thought and said “everything”.  He sneezed, indicating hay-fever had kicked in.  I forced a tissue and antihistamines on him.

Although less fatigued, my mind kept going blank and I had to stop and think what I was doing in the middle of writing.  The internet moved at glacial speed, making me quite irate.  Phil eventually managed to sort it out so I could at last post an entry on ‘Cool Places’. ii

Late afternoon, we had a brief spell in the garden.  He planted Christmas tree seeds while I pruned shrubs and put the prettiest cuttings in vases, ready to be adorned with Easter egg ornaments.  A young neighbour  I’d not seen for a few months appeared, back home from university.  She was just finishing her first year at Cambridge when all exams got cancelled due to for lockdown.  She, was devasted of course!  Phil popped to the shop, bought all the groceries on the list, and washed them.  As previously mentioned, he’d become an expert at this type of shopping.  It suited him to buy a few items at a time “like the old days.”

In the evening, we peered out the window at the very bright ‘pink supermoon’ (not pink at all) and made the first of several meals utilising the wild garlic (barley risotto) The garlic-themed dinners continued throughout the week, including fishcakes with garlic sauce, tortilla and chips with garlic mayo, weekend roast with garlic pesto potatoes, and spaghetti pesto.

Bumbling Boris had been put in ICU but not on a ventilator.  A call for an evening ‘clap for Boris’ was apparently not a piss-take.  Talk about toadying!  Rabid Raab took charge during his absence. Elsewhere, reports emerged of Nerola village, Italy being totally isolated with all residents tested and contact-traced.  Valuable research or hideous experiment?   Tigers in NY zoo had tested positive for Covid-19.  Pet owners inevitably fretted.  Clarity on guidance for cats followed: they could go out as long as nobody in the house had symptoms.

Wednesday morning, Gormless Gove began self-isolation as someone in his household allegedly had symptoms.  More likely he was biding his time, waiting for The Boris and The Rabid One to fall so he could take over, like Unpretty Patel.  It was all getting a bit Game of Thrones.  A sculptor from Cornwall made a bust of Chris Witless as ‘he has an interesting face and is very sensible’.  Already hilarious, ‘stay home’ written in crayon on a scrap of paper beneath it had me in stitches!

Confined Walk

2 - Loitering Workmen
Loitering Roadworkers

Phil cast about for a reason to leave the house: “what excuse do I have to go out today?” With no urgent grocery needs, he randomly decided “I need cornflour and a mars bar”

I agreed to a walk in the warm, sunny afternoon.  Down on the main road, an impatient driver beeped us at the zebra, even though the road was clear.

 

Walking along the canal and through the almost-empty park, waiting and weaving was required to avoid dawdlers and cyclists.  Towards the station, dandelion clocks dominated the verge. Men loitered by roadworks on the access road and clambered noisily upon the roof as refurbishment continued.  More lingering ensued trying to get onto the Sustrans path, while a man dithered with his phone for several minutes.  But the hindrances did not mar delight in colourful spring flora. On our return, the towpath looked clear when a pair of joggers almost ran into us under the bridge, causing great annoyance. I noted that in Paris, jogging had been banned between 10-7.  Dog-walking and one-hour strolls were puzzlingly allowed ‘within half a mile of home’.  Safer back in the park, we walked across the pitch to avoid weed smokers, running past yet more loiterers at the lock gates.ii

The evening news told us almost 1.000 people had died in the last 24 hours.  Rabid Raab was very vague about the lockdown review due next Monday,  while experts declared it too early to lift restrictions.  Rishi Rich dished out £750m to charities: Hopefully, it wouldn’t be as hard to access as the emergency loans for small businesses.

First thing Thursday I felt confused and woozy with tummy cramp. Morning chores left me exhausted and achy.  The Ocado delivery I’d booked 2 weeks ago arrived bang on time.  To overcome the logistical problem of washing everything, I left the items not needed for a few days in bags.  An earlier text suggested there would be a high number of missing items. However, most had been substituted by alternatives.  Tinned cherry tomatoes are a thing, it turned out (normal plum tomatoes obviously not good enough for  Waitrose customers!)

In the afternoon, I sourced crucial new ipad leads from the evil Amazon. Buying the toiletries I needed proved impossible.  On ringing Mum, she actually answered, said “I can’t talk now” and promptly put the phone down.  Exacerbated, I sent her an Easter card instead.  Over the weekend, brother 1 took cupcakes to the care home and spoke to mum through the window.  Good to hear she was fine, if frail

Confusion continued following the pointless daily briefing.  Ministers wittered about a Cobra meeting which was in fact a meeting about a meeting due next week to ‘decide how the review will be conducted’.  An extension to the lockdown seemed inevitable.  Some idiot suggested lifting restrictions for young people, seen as at less risk – forgetting they were the ones spreading germs about with no concept of ‘social distancing’!  Police took characteristic glee at the prospect of clamping down over the Easter weekend.  In Northants, they planned to set up roadblocks and search shopping trolleys.  Visions of them confiscating Easter eggs came to mind: “’ello, ‘ello. ‘ello. Is that non-essential items you have purchased?”  The Cambs force patrolled shopping aisles and caravaners were turned around on the A38 going to Cornwall.  Daleks were seen patrolling the streets of North Yorks – at least that suggested a sense of humour.  The government continued to trust they used ‘discretion’; Was that consistent discretion? (sic).

Brandon Whatsit got tied up in knots when asked on Question Time why people could go for a walk in the park or on the beach but could not sit down or sunbathe for 10 minutes.   Prof Openshaw (no relation) said as extra vitamins were essential and the virus didn’t like sun, it was a good thing to do.

Bumbling Boris was now ‘sitting up and chatting’. The next day, he left ICU.  We joked that he would miraculously rise  on Easter Sunday.

Easter Treats

3 - My apple art - Woodland Floor
My apple art – Woodland Floor

Good Friday, I woke very early, unable to sleep due to anxiety and ferocious hunger. I tossed and turned until 7.30.  I got the breakfast cereal and made an apple art.  Berries in the granola suggested a woodland floor.  Phil was the real apple artist; my phone photos of his creations had a small but enthusiastic bunch of followers on social media.  Would anyone spot the difference?  Answer: Yes!.  Still, there was no need for him to laugh so raucously at my attempt.

It felt so warm, I donned a pair of  summer jeans  set off for the co-op, suddenly realising I had no jacket on.  Early enough for no queue and not too busy, issues remained with people not understanding what 2 yards was, including staff.  I had to bypass the fruit shelves as a member of staff stocked up the bananas and inevitably I found no hot cross buns.

4 - Hand Finished Chocolate Cake
Hand Finished Chocolate Cake

In lieu of cancelled events, I posted pace egg photos from last year, receiving several likes via the town’s page.   Phil baked  bread while I made a chocolate cake.  The mixture looked very sloppy, took ages to bake and didn’t rise much even though I whisked it for ages (I would never get the hang of that sponge cake lark).

The addition of buttercream frosting and drizzled Bournville improved the presentation somewhat – hand-finished!

 

The evening bulletin informed us there had been almost 1,000 deaths in the UK again.  While less people in London were in ICU, there were more in Yorks.  Scaling on the daft graphs changed as per usual, to make UK figures look less worse compared to the rest of the world.  With 8,000 deaths in the USA, a mass grave had been dug on ‘Heart Island’ in the Bronx.

Reiterating the rules on going out, the announcer proclaimed there was ‘no time limit on outdoor exercise as long as it was close to home’.  So why did I keep hearing it was an hour?  And how many times did we have to be told not to go out over the Easter weekend?

After another crap sleep, I forced myself up on Saturday, to discover my ipad had de-charged to critical overnight even though I turned it off before going to bed – I hoped the Amazon delivery would arrive soon.

Not really inclined to venture out, I worked on the journal and watched telly, avoiding plague news.  However, it would have been worth watching by all accounts.  Taking advantage of the absence of The Bumbler and the Gormless One, UnPretty Patel emerged, insisting she’d been working ‘hard’.  In classically heartless style, she said she was “sorry if people feel there have been failings” (totally side-stepping the issue of NHS staff dying due to a lack of PPE).  Making a complete hash of the numbers, she claimed 300,000; 34; 974,000 tests had been carried out.iii  Talk about thick!  And evil with it – the worst combo of human traits, and typical of bullies.

I got some sun doing a spot of weeding in the garden,.  A container had appeared near the back wall (possibly an evictee from the community garden), handy for sweeping the weeds into.  I overheard The Decorator asking next-door-but-one for phone advice and added my twopenneth about uploading contacts to the cloud and the virtues of Huawei.  This led to comments on the Chinese stealing our data “It’s the Americans you want to worry about”, I said.  Phil emerged, off to stretch his legs. I asked: “if you pass a shop, get me a turnip or swede (no joke!)”  When he returned, he went straight upstairs; I guessed to hide something.  He then announced he had got a turnip; in fact it was a swede.

Easter Desert

5 - Easter Eggs in Chalk
Easter Eggs in Chalk

Easter Sunday, Bumbling Boris had indeed risen – it’s a miracle!  He went straight to his country pile while Gormless Gove was seen out jogging – more hypocrisy!

Phil presented me with a co-op chocolate slab, almost identical to one I gave him at Christmas, with the chocolate raisins replaced by small golden eggs. I got him nowt. I’d intended to make him an art but with all the writing, cooking and baking, didn’t get round to it.  The hand-finished chocolate cake would have to suffice.

We had a fix of seasonal holiness from morning telly.  The top archbishop spoke from his kitchen about the impossibility of society going back to normal after the crisis, saying we must continue to value ‘key workers’.  The Pope’s traditional address took place in a weirdly empty basilica save for a few cardinals practicing extreme social distancing.  He also emphasised the need to value people above money and prayed that the homeless and refugees would not be abandoned.

References:

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

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

iii. From The Independent: https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/coronavirus-priti-patel-ppe-uk-nhs-update-cases-a9460886.html

6 - Haiga - Life Goes On
Haiga – Life Goes On i