Corvus Bulletin 11:Mind Your Pi’s and Rho’s (Covid Inquiry June-Dec 2023)

“I am listening to them. Their loss will be recognised” (Baroness Hallett)

The UK covid inquiry officially began August 2022. After the resignation of Lady Poole and 4 senior lawyers, the Scottish inquiry finally got underway 22^nd October 2023. Chair Lord Brailsford pledged to place the impact on people’s lives central. Ahead of UK public hearings mid-June, Prof. Pollard of Ox Vax (remember him?) told Newsnight not enough was being done to prepare for future pandemics. On QT, Ayesha said we must learn lessons, Lord Sumpter complained Sweden had already done theirs and government didn’t have a legal leg to stand on and, Cabinet Office (CO) bidding to block their release, weirdo tory minister Lee Rowley claimed WhatsApp messages were irrelevant.

Baroness Halibut started by promising an ‘investigation the nation deserves’ with answers to the 3 main questions of preparedness, response and lessons for the future*. ‘Excluded from sharing key evidence’, Bereaved Families lined up outside holding photos of deceased relatives. Praising their ‘dignified vigil’, Halibut assured them she listened but hoped they’d understand the difficult balance she had to strike.

On preparedness, David Cameroon didn’t accept previous underinvestment in the NHS but confessed to prioritising flu over other respiratory viruses. George Osborne didn’t regret austerity, while former CMO Sally Davies said there weren’t enough medical staff and lockdowns damaged a whole generation of children. Mark Drakeford blamed issues in Welsh care homes on Brexit dominating cabinet meetings.

Amidst the interminable blame-game, The Cock turned into the new Captain Hindsight. He deflected questions by putting the onus on everyone else for unreadiness and lack of medicines. Saying a no-deal Brexit was a distraction, he apologised for all fatalities and understood why people didn’t accept that. He then went to talk to Bereaved Families leaving actress Lorelei King, whose brother died of covid, in tears. The next day he attested that with the benefit of hindsight, an earlier first lockdown could have saved many lives, regretted not overruling advice on asymptomatic transmission and denied lying but admitted the evidence was now clear that Van Dam was right to say the ‘protective ring around care homes’ was a broken circle. Pointing to a toxic culture for needing someone to blame, he called The Scumbag a ‘malign actor’. The Scumbag tweeted he spoke rubbish. Ex-NHS CE Simon Stevens subsequently declared The Cock wanted to decide who lived and died rather than top medics.

At Phase 2 in November, former deputy CO sec Helen MacNamara who Scumbag called a cunt**, said government had no real-life experience or ‘business as usual’ model early 2020. No input from women in Number 10 nor CO meant they became effectively ‘invisible overnight’ and covid policy gaps (e.g., childcare). Told there was a plan 10 days before lockdown, she hadn’t seen one and feared thousands dead, akin to a ‘dystopian nightmare’. She returned from having covid 2^nd April to find Boris absent with it and drafted a document on how to manage when he was ill. She stated restrictions were never followed in Downing St. but as she was fined for attending a lockdown party and brought the karaoke machine to aide Hannah Young’s leaving do 18^th June 2020 as featured in the Channel 4 Partygate film, should have known better!

Lord Mark Sedwill, CO sec until autumn 2020, apologised for recommending ‘chicken pox’ parties to boost herd immunity and, so far up Bori’s arse, ‘his ankles were brown’, had pressed The Bumbler to sack The Cock. He was replaced by Simon Case who likened working in Number 10 to ‘taming wild animals’.

The Glove-Puppet apologised to Bereaved Families for mistakes, agreed lockdowns came too late, criticised tiers and said the impact on children wasn’t considered. Loath to criticise Boris in retrospect, he felt they all deserved a share. Rabid Raab disagreed with Saj that The Scumbag made Bori’s decisions. Thicky Harries admitted infected patients were discharged to care homes and claimed she warned government to safeguard kids. On Newscast, ex-civil servant Jill Rutter found ‘precautionary principles’ interesting; politicians wanting certainty before acting effectively dumped on scientists and PHE. Health threats not treated the same as others like terrorism, it was suggested that UKHSA should sit on the National Security Council.

As part of module 2, the inquiry asked if measures such as social restrictions and lockdowns were in the public interest. Pat Vallance’s diary revealed ‘Number 10 in chaos as usual’ and Boris viewed the pandemic as nature’s way of getting rid of old people. He also dismissed long-covid as ‘bollocks’. Ex mandarin Alex Thomas described an ‘anxious, chaotic and divided’ relationship between CO and No. 10 in the early days. Illustrating dysfunctionality at heart of government, Hugo Keith QC disclosed messages between Simon Case and Boris, autumn 2020: SC: always told Dom real PM but Carrie really in charge.BJ: How true, Smiley face. SC: We look like a terrible joke, I can’t cope with this. I’m going home.

The PM ‘changing strategic direction every day’, Case reached the end of his tether, took sick leave and didn’t attend the inquiry due to a ‘medical issue’ ‘Deeply sorry’ for sending the BYOB garden party e-mail May 2020, former PP Martin Reynolds said government couldn’t deal with the crisis and wrote in his diary that Boris was a weak and ineffective PM. He revealed a ‘shit list’ of people for the chop – it was shit because Scumbag wasn’t on it! Agreeing there was no plan, Boris dithered and took too long imposing lockdown, Lee Cain said it was the wrong crisis for the PMs skillset (whatever that was) but it was a huge undertaking. Keith read The Scumbag’s messages out calling government ‘useless fuck-pigs, cunts and morons’. Dom replied that minister’s incompetence was far worse than his Pi’s and Rho’s. Lord Lister disclosed Boris volunteered to be jabbed with covid live on TV. Meanwhile, claiming to have changed his phone several times and not backed them up, Rishi Rich failed to handover messages from his time as chancellor.

All the bods appeared in what was dubbed Science Week, to reveal the burden of overwork and death threats. Vallance said Boris was bamboozled by The Science and ignored advice on restrictions, believed tiers ineffective and ‘eat out to help out’ which he wasn’t consulted on, helped the spread. The Scumbag ‘happy to see people die’, diary notes showed ministers’ surprise when the CMO piped up. Chris Witless agreed the pandemic preparedness plan wasn’t useful, although lack of data and testing early March 2020 was the big problem. Lockdown #1 a bit late, there were no good options and he advised Van Dam to wait for more data before declaring an epidemic. With hindsight, they could have done things differently. ‘Absolutely not’ consulted on ‘eat out to help out’, Van Dam found out about it on telly and felt allowing mass gatherings spring 2020 ‘unhelpful’. At PMQs, Gareth Thomas asked why Vallance said Rishi didn’t take his advice but 2 years ago, Boris declared they always followed The Science. Rishi spouted the usual lies.

Mass media coverage patchy, a BBC News presenter speaking MLE (Multicultural London English) was almost unintelligible. On Newscast, Laura K. thought the inquiry confirmed how bad things were with government almost imploding, Brexit creating factions and civil servants struggling to grapple with policy. Jo Co asked her Daily Politics panel: who was to blame for the toxic culture – Boris or The Scumbag? Err, the PM appointed them! Due to the 3-cunt rule, HIGNFY used country house instead to ridicule the goings-on. Positing the inquiry was a waste of time, Jeremy Vine queried why it didn’t investigate if covid originated in a Chinese lab. Because that’s not what it’s about you idiot! Even more idiotic, a caller declared the hearings a disgrace and an insult to the bereaved and hoped they didn’t get paid. I suggested she didn’t know what an inquiry was, but Phil reckoned many people didn’t want to contemplate culpability. Others had all-but forgotten about it as evinced by my visit to an elderly neighbour. When I knocked on her door in October, she felt unwell. “Can I help?” “No, I’m waiting for it to work through; it’s one of those things; you know, that thing everyone had 3 years ago and we had to wear masks.” “Covid?” “That’s it!”

Still being grilled in December, The Cock said he resigned over his affair with Gina Colander as he was accountable for not following the rules and that sooner lockdowns could have prevented school closures Jan 2021. He praised Liverpool mayor Joe Anderson for cooperation and regretted he was no longer with us – Joe tweeted he just took his pulse and was still here! Criticising Bunman for putting politics before health by failing to agree a support package, Bunman retorted the problem was with Cock. Attending in person, Bunman complained of London-centric decision-making and fellow Metro Mayor Khan whinged of exclusion.

Allegedly preparing for a year, Boris appeared at the inquiry for 2 days early December, arriving under cover of darkness at 7.00 a.m. sporting a GTFC bobble hat – much to the chagrin of Grimbarians. ‘Deeply sorry’ for pain, loss and suffering, 4 protestors brandishing papers reading ‘the dead can’t hear your apologies’ were ejected. The Bumbler admitted to male-dominated meetings and misjudging scale: “It would certainly be fair to say of me, the entire Whitehall establishment, scientific community…we underestimated the scale and the pace of the challenge…We should have collectively twigged much sooner. I should have twigged.” Defending the overall approach, he denied excess UK deaths second only to Italy, said he didn’t sack The Cock (who’d gone off to do ‘Who Dares Wins’) because he was ‘intellectually able’ and doing his best, conceded tiers didn’t work leading to lockdown #2, was perplexed at scientists’ claims of being unaware of ‘eat out to help out’ and denied advocating letting the virus rip. Not reconciled with deaths, he knew from experience how horrid it was and focused on saving lives. Regretful of Partygate, he claimed public perception of events was a million miles from what actually happened. CO losing its legal challenge to block full release of his documents, a pleased Halibut expected to receive material pronto, but Boris forgot his old phone’s passcode. Needing help to retrieve it, he couldn’t explain why messages disappeared and blathered about WhatsApp going down and coming back up again with data erased.

Rishi apologised to all sufferers but defended ‘eat out to help out’ which he didn’t believe was risky and denied not consulting medics. Panned for putting money before lives, some claimed it saved the hospitality sector, others that it made little difference. Unaware The Treasury was called a death squad, he repeatedly said ‘I don’t recall’ before the inquiry was adjourned until 2024.

Outside the inquiry, a plethora of evidence emerged, proving cronies still got away with it. A study by the Best for Britain group found government wasted £100bn over 4 years on ‘crony contracts’, ‘duff deals’ and ‘outrageous outgoings’ including £15bn on unusable PPE, £140m on the unlawful Rwanda deal, £2bn scrapping HS2, and ½ bn on unused post-Brexit custom inspection sites. £14.9bn PPE written off, plus £3.3bn for TIT, PAC found no proper controls and an inventory impossible 3 years on. Chair Meg Hillier understood pressures at the pandemic’s outset, but lax controls and finance didn’t help, creating a huge challenge of what to do with stockpiles. Finding UKHSA unable to prepare auditable accounts and Jenny Harries lacking ‘technical experience’, Jenny countered she was working with DHSC to overcome ‘inherited’ financial challenges.

On a Medi pro documentary, Michelle Moan confessed she knew about the PPE deal but it was nowt to do with her. She then informed Laura K. that while she lied, she did nothing wrong or illegal. Hubby Doug Barrowman confirmed Moan could be a beneficiary of the £60m profit:’ that’s what you do when you make money’ (splutter!) Wondering who thought the interview was a good idea, Wes Streeting railed at people getting away with ripping the country off and reiterated labour plans for a covid corruption commissioner. Amidst a criminal suit, Oliver Dowdy insisted there was no cronyism in awarding contracts. Rishi said he took the issue incredibly seriously and denied Moan had told government of her involvement. Keir called it ‘a shocking disgrace from top to bottom’.

Babylon Healthcare, which The Cock gave £20m DOH money to for the ‘doctor in your pocket’ app, went bust. There were calls to investigate Leeds company Clipper Logistics £130m subcontracts to distribute PPE. A spokesperson insisted there was no connection to boss Mr Parkin personally donating dosh to the tories. Tom Moore charity trustee and daughter Hannah Ingram-Moore was paid ‘thousands’ to attend charity events. The money went to Maytrix Group (her and hubbies’ company). Instructed to demolish the Captain Tom Foundation Building in their garden, she was reduced to using public spas.

In other news, The Met belatedly issued 24 fines over the Jingle & Mingle do and paid compo to 2 women arrested at the Clapham Common vigil for breaking coronavirus laws. Patsy Stevenson and Dania Al-Obeid didn’t know they’d met there.

Plans for annual covid boosters were unveiled in August. Despite limited info, not yet a variant of concern and only 3 UK cases, Omicron version BA.2.86 aka Pirola, caused covid and flu jabs to be brought forward to 11^th September. Not being over 65, immunosuppressed or care workers, we didn’t qualify and couldn’t buy it even if we could afford to, as Mike Gammon seemed to think we should (at least not yet). The NHS whinged of short notice and begged government to plan better next year. As the number of cases rose to 36, most in a Norfolk care home (one hospitalised, all recovered), UKHSA believed there was some community transmission and urged the eligible to get jabbed. Telly doctor Chris re-emerged to tell BBC Breakfast Pirola had 30 mutations and might bypass immunity but be less hazardous to health. By November, subvariant JN.1had spread to 12 countries. Originating in Denmark, the name Pirola combined Greek letters Pi and Rho, and also happened to be Spanish Galician slang for male anatomy!

Covid and flu still rose in the UK at the end of 2023 but there was less than 2022. Meanwhile, China’s first winter without lockdown since 2020 brought low immunity, lots of flu and inundated hospitals. WHO demanded they release data. Covid vaccine mRNA developers Katalin Kariko and Drew Weissman shared the Nobel prize for medicine. Moderna planned dual vaccines by 2025, and treble ones the year after. Prompted by the emergence of long covid, further research uncovered long colds causing coughing, tummy ache and diarrhoea for up to 4 weeks. As we were ill most of December, I wondered if we had it.

The NHS’ 75^th anniversary was celebrated in July with a service at Westminster Abbey, a Tom Hardy bedtime story and suspension of the hardship fund and counselling service due to overwhelming demand. Mary Parsons who administered the first covid vaccine, wished people recognised it was ‘such a treasure’: “We don’t know what we’ve lost until we lose it.” First NHS baby Aneira Thomas agreed we took it for granted. Meanwhile, millions waited for treatment as Rishi’s promise to reduce the lists floundered, alongside his other daft priorities.

*Covid inquiry areas and modules- 4 underway:

Resilience and preparedness
Core UK decision-making and political governance
Impact on healthcare systems
Vaccines and therapeutics (including anti-virals)

Others to be announced included: The care sector, PPE procurement, Test and trace, Government business and financial response, Health inequalities and the impact of Covid-19, Education, children and young people, Other public services (including frontline delivery by key workers).

**Scumbag said of MacNamara “I don’t care how it’s done but that woman must be out of our hair – we cannot keep dealing with this horrific meltdown of the British state while dodging stilettos from that cunt.” Disappointed Boris didn’t pull Cummings up on his ‘violent and misogynistic language’, MacNamara responded: ‘It’s horrible to read, and both surprising and not surprising.‘

The Corvus Papers 3: The Rocky Horror Show

“To use a non-technical term, that’s pretty much bollocks” (Gillian Tett)

Unknowable

Saturday breakfast stressful, Phil took over. Accusations of inefficiency were a tad unfair given his new job. Still doing extra hours, he didn’t know for how long, but at least he enjoyed my lamb tagine after late weekend shifts. “I should hope so! I made it special so you’d have something tasty and warm.” Unfortunately, I couldn’t help with fatigue. Tired for different reasons, I pushed myself along the canal and round the park Sunday, found flowers and foliage, an edible apple among munched windfall and the squat boarded up. They Anarchists were gone by November. In the co-op, I got reduced items and a cheery greeting from Geordie ex-neighbour. Back home, I developed a headache but at least I’d had fresh air.

About to bathe Monday morning, Phil said I should’ve done so an hour ago. “Fascist!” I wrote until unable to focus and fuggy-headed and did yoga. Waking lots early Tuesday, I ended up oversleeping and became despondent at so many chores to do. Needing supplies again, I headed out. The alt therapy woman walked a few paces ahead, engrossed on her mobile and waving imperiously. In the co-op, she curated her basket in a way suggesting she wasn’t struggling like some of us – strawberries in October, FFS! A man fiddling under chiller shelves meant I couldn’t even get basic veg but did find a large bottle of cooking oil cheaper. Calling the surgery again, the answerphone said they were shut for staff training with no info as to when they’d re-open. Phil got home for a late lunch, saying he’d brought the rain with him. “Don’t sing another song!” Radio 2 on all day in The Store, he couldn’t help himself.

Pouring all night, low mood made it hard to be bothered about anything on a damp Wednesday. Phil again harassed me into bathing then interrupted my writing to say he’d better get ready for work. I’d forgot he was starting early, hastened lunch, and visited Walking Friend. The pretty fallen leaves made the steep steps slippy even in sturdy boots. I found her knitting, handed over the clean scrunchy and listened to her work woes over a cup of Earl Grey. Martin Green of Care England said without a complete restructure of the social care system, millions could be left without support and the NHS would be ‘on its knees’, so I wasn’t surprised to hear of low morale, exacerbated by increased workloads and pointless online training. I made suggestions and diverted her with other topics, when a text arrived saying she had a staff meeting on her day off. “You always have a choice, you could walk into another job tomorrow if you wanted.” I shared what I’d learnt about state pension eligibility to discover she wasn’t paying National Insurance. Now also on a low wage, Phil agreed the system was rigged to disenfranchise people and she should opt back in. Feeling sleepy, I accepted a second cuppa before dodging dog-walkers on the steps. Phil slept in the next 2 days. I took over breakfast apple art. Gracious about the browning butterflies Thursday, he unkindly laughed at Friday’s effort.

Having arranged to meet at The Tearooms, Walking Friend cancelled to hike with The Poet. We decided to go out anyway. I went ahead to buy cinema tickets for the first time in 3 years. Unable to process an extra discount at the box-office, they said they no longer recognised the PTL orange dot. Who knew what it was good for now? They kindly granted me the concession and gave me a CCA form for next time but I was ineligible – quelle surprise! I hung around for Phil and we perused the Greasy Spoon menu. Unsure if they served all-day brekkie, we opted for pies instead, listening sympathetically to Deli Woman’s travails of filling a vacancy. You just couldn’t get the staff nowadays! We ate in the park and ascended to woodland. A bumper year for conkers, we found none but plenty of toadstools (see Cool Placesⁱ). On a wet and grey Friday, I did boring admin and the weekend shop. Phil went to the kiosk while I paid at the till. The reader wouldn’t scan my MasterCard or accept the PIN for some unknown reason. As a man stood right behind me, I got flustered, lost confidence in knowing the number and used a different card. In my panic, I missed Phil sneakily picking up all the bags which he insisted on carrying as practice for work.

Baroness Halibut promised victims would be at the heart of the covid public inquiry. Rising 14% in a week, it was unknown if 1.3m cases was a winter wave. Increasing among over 70’s, we should avoid the vulnerable and get boosted. Of 1 million Brits with long-covid, 514,000 had it for 2 years. Growing since lockdowns, Councillor Friend told Look North there’d be changes to hazardous street furniture in Toy Town. Ostensibly turning pink for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Girls Aloud launched Primark nightwear.

Larry the cat eschewed a stroking from Trussed-Up as she met the Danish PM outside Number 10. In Brum for the tory conference, she admitted to Laura K the kamikaze budget caused disruption, and shock announcements could’ve been handled better but repeated it was everyone else’s fault, threw Kwasi Modo under the bus saying he decided to scrap the top income tax rate and attend a hedge fund managers’ champagne reception the evening before the pound tanked: ‘I don’t control his diary’. She didn’t mention Melton Mowbray pork pies going under. NOT taking back control of pork markets? That. Is. A. Disgrace!

Noncommittal on benefit cuts, she said Coffee-Cup was looking at it and Kwasi was sorting everything else. The Glove-puppet and Shatts both lambasted ‘Trussonomics’; the latter predicting a commons revolt. A U-turn on the top tax rate and release of forecasts came after a late-night meeting. Only knocking £2bn off the bill and other unknowns in the pipeline, markets remained jittery. Having a tough Monday, Kwasi reiterated commitment to growth, evaded a direct apology but ‘humbly’ accepted cutting high earner’s taxes was ill-judged. Meanwhile, Tory chair Jake Berry told Sky News the answer to soaring bills was to ‘either cut consumption, get a higher salary or go out there and get that new job.’ Chris Bryant retorted: ‘Do tories think people haven’t tried this?’ Division in the ranks, Mordor said benefits should go up with inflation rather than wages, Swellen accused them of coup-plotting and Trussed-Up repeated they hadn’t decided before posing in a hard hat and Hi-Viz at a Selly Oak factory. At fringe meetings, Swellen couldn’t wait to deny migrants arriving in dinghies the right to seek asylum: it was her dream to see a plane-load heading for Rwanda on The Torygraph cover before Christmas! POA called Manston processing centre a ‘pressure cooker’, with channel-crossers illegally held for a week rather than 48 hours, running out of food and water and police called. Rees-Moggy urged shoppers to ignore a new law banning sweets near supermarket tills to save the choc orange. Good to see him focused on important issues, he probably disapproved of Quality Street ditching iconic plastic wrappers too!

Striking Post office staff were joined later in the week by 999 call-handlers. Yorkshire bus services cut, government capitulated on Northern Poorhouse rail going to Bradford. South Eastern would axe first-class carriages and water jets would clear pesky autumn leaves from Northern Rail lines in Yorkshire but not here. Warned it needed to ‘drastically improve services’, Avanti West Coast was given a 6-month extension. How bad did they have to be to lose the franchise? Tories left Brum early Wednesday before Trussed-Up’s address. Allegedly due to the biggest rail strike yet, postponed from September, or because they were fed up of the febrile atmosphere. Playing dress-up in a red frock like Emma Thompson’s Years and Years right-wing PM, Truss said she was willing to take difficult decisions to get the economy moving and change meant disruption but would benefit everyone. The short-lived abolition of the top tax rate a ‘distraction’, she’d listened to people and wouldn’t allow the ‘anti-growth coalition’ to hold her back. She sounded like a right tin-foiler, lumping together Labour, Lid Dems, ‘militant’ unions, Brexit-deniers, XR and Greenpeace (who were ejected for intrusion) and aped Thatcher saying they were ‘wrong, wrong, wrong’. Cabinet ministers cock-a-hoop, M People founder Mike Pickering was ‘livid’ at her entrance to Moving On Up, advising she heed the lyrics: ‘go and pack your bags and get out.’ Jeffrey Archer told Jeremy Vine she picked ministers based on friendship not talent, unlike Thatcher who only had 4 mates in Cabinet. Conor Burns was sacked as trade minister for serious misconduct (inappropriate behaviour towards a young man at conference). He’d ‘fully co-operate’ with an inquiry to clear his name. Spice Girl Mel B tweeted: ‘Really?? Your shocked about this complaint??? Let me remind you what you said me in lift…’ Not knowing if it was arrogance or disrespect, Nicola Sturgeon complained it was ‘absurd’ Truss hadn’t rung a month into the job.

Dropping over summer, Fareshare urged supermarkets to donate more surplus food. It’d be better if government faced the fact that people couldn’t afford groceries. Prices soaring, service sector growth stalled, Tesco half-year profits fell 10% and average mortgage interest reached a 14 year high 6.07%. The IFS predicting Trussonomics would make 99% worse off, Shell boss Ben van Beurden wanted to be taxed more to prevent damage to ‘significant parts of society’. Later revealing last quarter profits of £8.2bn (a £26bn total for 2022 so far), they’d paid no windfall tax as profits weren’t technically made in the UK. Amidst unknown variables, Ofgem warned of a winter gas emergency and prepared scenarios (rationing and blackouts). National Grid later said it’d probably be alright and On QT, Nads Zahawi said 3-hour outages were a worst case scenario. Why scaremonger then? Not wishing to tell us what to do, Downing Street refused to launch a public info campaign, but telly ads appeared the following week. Northern PowerGrid e-mailed a priority list and onesie sales rocketed. As Nads said inflation was all Putin’s fault, Piers Morgan had heard it all; even the dead queen was more culpable of crashing the economy than tories! Also delayed by Queenie dying, Kingy and Camilla went to Dunblane as the erstwhile Scottish capital was belatedly conferred city status. Despite the sham poll, Ukrainians retook the town of Lyman in Donetsk. Bags of drugs labelled Dior turned up on a Welsh beach. Cocaine galore!

Trick or Cheat?

Overnight rain led to window condensation Saturday. Not dispersing in sunshine, the chamois turned black doing the box room. Phil admitted it needed a proper clean. Despite moderate drinking, I had a slight headache. After coffee, Phil asked had I got over my binge – ha, ha! He agreed it wasn’t ideal working weekends but it did get us out of the habit of wine-drinking every Friday and feeling crap Saturdays. Taking an age to do blogs amid brightness and interruptions, I lost my thread, got angry, developed head fug and considered gardening when a cool wind arrived. Phil’s haircutting stalled when the clippers broke again. We thought we might need a trip to Big Town for new ones. We ate a hasty dinner to find the cinema had tricked us on the start time. I bought tiny cans of beer from The Oil Painter, remarking on artists resorting to menial jobs – It’s a shit business! We took our booked seats to watch a parade of ads and trailers before the main feature, Moonage Daydream. While some montages were a bit weird and tracks truncated, the David Bowie doc wasn’t the mish-mash Phil expected. I advised he stop reading Guardian reviews. Unseen footage featured La La La Human Steps practicing dance moves. Phil reckoned Bowie turned up to play 2 notes at their performance we saw years ago. So I had seen Bowie live and didn’t know it. “Now you tell me!” It was Phil’s turn to feel fuzzy Sunday. Was it the small beer or the brightly-colourful cinematic experience messing with his head? As he prepared for a late shift, I headed to town, hailed The Woman Next Door with a man near the old bridge, collected fallen leaves and went to an art exhibition. Hoping to see Welsh Art Friend, I saw only The Printer. We discussed her seaside prints until some of her mates turned up. I went charity shopping for books, DVDs and a throw. Phil brought home out-of-date bread destined for the bin.

Waking with a claggy throat Monday, I made soothing porridge, forgot spoons and irritated Phil straightening out bedding. A bad start to the week, I soldiered on, washed the throw to dry quickly on the line, getting knackered clambering up and down stairs. Tuesday, I cleaned rusty marks from plumbing tools on the landing windowsill. I left them upstairs to adjust the stiff bath tap but when Phil returned from an early shift, he tetchily blamed my technique. “Don’t talk to me like that!” “Okay, I’ll have a look.” A cricket landed on me at the co-op ATM. As I attempted a rescue, the small queue crowded round. “Is it a grasshopper?” Only in Toy Town – I’d be tutted at in the city! Inside, my namesake hunted for reduced face cream when a colleague said she’d bought it all. What a mean trick! A group of lanyard-wearing teenagers laughed in the aisles, ironically singing ‘praise Jesus’. I lugged the heavy, pricey items home as Phil got back, yawning and sighing: “I’m tired.” “Really? I wasn’t getting that!”

Early Wednesday, a niggly nose joined the sore throat. Succumbing to illness, I took Echinacea and sucked a pastille. Phil eventually asked what was wrong. “It could be the cold you’ve been in denial about all week.” “It’s not a cold, it’s a cough.” “Well, it could be the usual sinus lark. I haven’t had it for 3 months.” I wondered if the record gap was due to more antibodies, the hot dry summer, or DIY. “Doing stuff is good.” “Yeah, but I’ve felt iffy a few times since. Maybe it was bubbling under. I’m staying abed so don’t hassle me, but I need a bath.” “You’ll have to get up for that.” Cleansed, I fetched coffee and the laptop and watched PMQs. Absurdly only Trussed-Up’s second began with tributes to David Amess a year since his murder and 10 victims of a petrol station explosion in Creeslough Donegal. A backbencher guessed spooking the markets was incompetent not malevolent, but reneging on no-fault evictions was vicious. A less forgiving Keir asked if Truss agreed with Rees-Moggy telling us the crisis was nowt to do with her fiscal plans. She replied with the usual guff on taking decisive action, protecting the economy, higher growth and lower inflation. Kier spluttered she was lost in denial, with mortgages sky-rocketing, the public wouldn’t forgive or forget and nor should they; it was time to stop the kamikaze budget causing so much pain. After parroting herself, she blamed Vlad for global price rises, Keir for not supporting the energy price guarantee (he reminded her it was initially labour’s idea) and said he had a Damascus moment supporting the National Insurance reversal (which he always opposed). Asked if she’d stick to no cuts, she promised to spend wisely instead. One step behind the Shell boss on windfall taxes, he wondered why she insisted on tax cuts for the rich? After more resay, she whinged his union mates stopped people getting to work. Ian Blackford asked if the incompetent PM would give up her plan to save the chancellor by scapegoating the BOE – completely losing control, the only things growing were mortgages, rents and bills; was that what she meant by growing the economy? As she threw queries back (unchallenged by The Speaker who scolded Boris all the time for that), Blackford sniped if she wanted to ask him questions, they could swap places, to much mirth.

Phil fed me cute cheese on toast faces, like a nursery tea. Unable to go to Big Town, I spent ages ordering from the cranky Boots website A singing Phil irksomely woke me at 5.50 a.m. Thursday. I slept fitfully until 9, cleaned the bedroom and doubled up the long and narrow new throw into a bedspread. Hot, tired and legs leaden, I worked on blogs. About to upload, the laptop decided there was no internet. I turned it off and waited eons for stupid MS to update and re-start, only to be bugged again the next day. Phil returned from a shelf- stacking shift wearing his lovely new logoed sweatshirt (he had a fleece too). After resting, he asked if he’d missed any news. “Tories saying we’re all doomed!” Friday, lovely orangey-pink dawn clouds tempted me up. Phil offered to help with the weekend shop. With a short list, I said I’d be ok, but it was an ordeal with heavy bags and the reader not authorising my card again. Oblivious to my huffing and puffing, Phil went to work and I went back to bed. Getting home promptly from the late shift, he didn’t know why they bothered for a few drunks and stoners.

Kuoni’s Thai bookings 87% higher than pre-pandemic levels, covid tripled during a week-long Chinese holiday, meaning more lockdowns and travel restrictions. 1.7m infected by the UK’s 4^th wave this year, admissions increased 76% and 30% caught it in hospital, like in 2020. Stephen Griffin of Indy Sage fretted about NHS pressure. Reasonable uptake of autumn boosters, all over 50’s could book one (in theory) but Griffin wanted more eligibility.

NAO’s latest assessment put covid support losses at £4.5bn. PAC chair Meg Hillier urged government ‘get a grip‘ on fraud and loose controls. David Jason revealed he couldn’t move his limbs when he collapsed with covid during the summer.

ONS data showed wages fell 2.9% in real terms. Banker’s bonuses rising twice as fast since the 2008 crash, The TUC said government should raise the minimum wage to £15, give public sector workers more and encourage fair pay deals for others. Acknowledging the gap, a wheeled out Coffee-Cup repeated the hollow mantra of helping families with the cost of living. Unemployment at 3.5% but record vacancies, people were too ill or stopped applying for hard low-wage jobs like social care. CQC found 300,000 empty posts, leaving 1 million needy adults without care and 3 in 5 blocking hospital beds. As the economy shrank, consumers bought wonky fruit and veg, air fryers, electric dryers and candles, cutting bills and risking fire. School meal costs up 30% and 91% of providers experiencing food shortages, Laca wanted more money for a sector ‘on its knees’. Promising ideas on how and support, Ofgem ridiculously advised we reduce energy consumption. French EDF and Total workers on strike, Micron said they should be paid more. While M&S sped up closure of 110 larger stores, Pret A Manger staff would get a third pay rise of 5% in December. Strikes into a second week, Hull Stagecoach drivers paid less than colleagues in other regions were offered 14%, They wanted 17%. ACAS fruitlessly stepped in but Network Rail’s Tim Shovellor saw a glimmer of hope in talks with unions. Rejecting 2% and a £345 lump sum, Environment Agency staff were balloted.

In Scotland for the SNP conference, ex-chancellor Alistair Darling told Laura K. the government’s actions were ‘a textbook example of everything you shouldn’t do in difficult times’, economic turmoil was self-inflicted, they trashed the UK’s reputation and cost us dear. Nads Zahawi called Sturgeon saying she detested tories and everything they stood for, ‘really dangerous language’. Good grief! It’d be hate speech to hate Fascists next! He advised the ranks unite behind Truss, or risk a hideous labour/SNP coalition. Jon Ashworth spluttered that was ‘complete and utter nonsense and desperate.’ Vowing to hold a ref 19^th October 2023, Sturgeon told conference independence was vital with labour: “willing to chuck Scotland under Boris Johnson’s Brexit bus to get the keys to Downing Street.” In The House, the government won the National Insurance vote but select committee chair Mel Stride, warned Kwasi Modo he had to win over MPs to prevent more alarm. Dubbed ’Operation Re-assurance’, Modo’s growth plan and the OBR’s economic assessment were forwarded a month to 31^st October. Halloween too late to settle spooked markets, Rayner tweeted it was more like Trick or Cheat: ‘the tory horror show rattles on’. IFS reckoned they needed £60bn in spending cuts, Citigroup predicted a worse crisis than 1976 and we observed tories were always in power when the lights went out! Meanwhile, Trussed-Up went to play footie with the Lionesses.

Accepting the global energy crisis affected Europe more, the IMF again criticised Modo’s plans as a slow-down would follow any short-term growth, and likened the UK government and BOE to 2 drivers ‘trying to steer the car in different directions’. Aides combing through the mini-budget line by line to see what could be changed, a cap on renewable energy firm revenues was mooted – not a windfall tax thus not a U-turn. Phil reckoned non-renewables weren’t covered as a sop to their rich mates. BOE bought more gilts to prop up the shambling economy but wouldn’t extend the scheme beyond Friday. The pound plummeted. Modo blamed the war and pension funds for risky purchases. Err, that’d be dodgy government bonds then, you moron! Rachel Reeves hit back: “This is a British crisis made in Downing Street. No other government is sabotaging their own country’s economic credibility…”

Rees-Moggy accused Michal Hussein of breaching BBC impartiality saying the mini-budget crashed the economy and gaslighted the BOE for not raising interest rates enough. FT journalist Gillian Tett told Channel 4 news: “‘to use a non-technical term, that’s pretty much bollocks.” He was also contradicted by Kwasi Modo at the IMF in Washington Thursday. Admitting he’d made markets nervous, he wasn’t going anywhere as the G7 all had similar problems. IMF MD Kristalina Georgieva told him and Andrew Bailey they needed clear policy coherence and communication to prevent more jitters in a jittery environment: “fiscal policy should not undermine monetary policy…(or) the task of monetary policy…becomes harder and it translates into…further increases of rates and tightening of financial conditions…If the evidence is that you need to recalibrate, don’t prolong the pain.” A cacophony of backbenchers screaming: ‘it’s checkmate’, ‘we’re stuffed’, ‘it’s dire’, ‘we’re done for’ and frantic calls across the pond, Modo hid in the toilet then flew back to London. Traders betted on a U-turn, Kwasi gone by the weekend and Trussed-Up finished within weeks. James Uncleverly said it’d be a bad idea and Alistair Campbell said an out-of-depth Truss couldn’t do the job. She went to see Kingy, who chortled: ‘Back again? Dear, oh dear!’ and sacked Modo Friday, making The C**t the fourth chancellor since July. Saying they’d moved too fast, they kept the corporation tax rise, as Rishi planned. Spreadsheet Phil reproached them for throwing away years of hard work and Reeves said: “Another change isn’t the answer…it’s time for a labour government.”

On a lighter note, Coffee-Cup evaded questions on scrapping smoke free targets, saying she was concentrating on her ABCD. Blood transfusion levels critical, B should stand for ‘blood’. Wes Streeting called her ‘clueless and hopeless’. Artist robot Ai-Da answered pre-prepared questions in The Lords saying AI in creative industries were a threat and an opportunity. NZ proposed a tax on animal burps and pee. Did they not want food production? Farmers later held street demos. Staid conservation groups the National Trust, RSPB and Wildlife Trusts united to protest violation of the countryside, write letters and ‘all options on the table’, didn’t rule out direct action. Motorists dragged Just Stop Oil protestors off London roads, 24 were arrested and 1 went to hospital. 300 involved by the 11^th day of action, an irate electric taxi driver told road-blockers he was doing his bit. As they blocked The Mall, Mark Rowley said they’d not yet caused sufficient ‘serious disruption’ to warrant forcible removal. Anglian Water planned to build the UK’s first new reservoir in 30 years. About bloody time!

Cops co-ordinated operations to smash 172 county lines, find 321 weapons and £2.7m in drugs and make 1.360 arrests, including for modern slavery. The Met investigated 625 sex and domestic abuse claims. Ahead of Asylum Aid’s Rwanda High Court hearing, 1,604 channel crossings Sunday-Monday made 2,232 for the month and 35,000 for the year. In a dig at Giorgio Melon, Popeye called the exclusion of migrants ‘scandalous, disgusting and sinful’. Saturday, The Kerch Bridge linking Russia to Crimea, blew up when an exploding lorry set oil tankers alight. Vlad ordered a full investigation and Russian media blamed Ukrainian ‘terrorists’. Err, there’s a war on! Retaliative shelling of Ukrainian cities including Kyiv and memes of battle dolphins ensued. The bridge was fixed by Wednesday and 8 suspects detained. Japan’s Epsilon 6 rocket was ordered to self-destruct after launch. JAXA apologised and investigated. X-ray radiation from a gamma ray, the brightest ever discovered, still emitted an afterglow of rings weeks later. One-time WRP member Vanessa REDrgave became a dame, Ant & Dec missed yet another NTA due to covid, and Gaslight inventor Angela Lansbury died. Glasgow cheated, Liverpool would host Eurovision 2023.

Jokers and Wasters

Saturday, Phil joked: “Is she gone yet?” “No, but The C**t was on BBC Breakfast.” Marking an end to Trussonomics, he said they’d be judged on the next 18 months, not the past 18 weeks, blamed the usual culprits of the war and energy meaning no fast tax cuts or increased spending and all departments making efficiency savings. 4 chancellors since July (Saj, Nads, Kwasi Modo, The C**t), resembled the 4 stooges. “They’re running out of credible people. If it goes on like this, I envisage a crap Netflix.” “Yep. The Downfall UK. A satirical comedy with fake ‘where are they now’s’ at the end: in a loony bin; in the sea; in an Amazon warehouse; working for Deliveroo!” “I bet lots of them red-wallers want it to end so they can go back to sane jobs.” Still ailing, I tried not to be depressed as sun chased away a watery chill to reveal a lovely autumn window scene, posted the final Scarborough blog and figured a way to share it on Insta (see Cool Places 2ⁱⁱ). Wearier and achier Sunday, I stayed abed reading and writing. My Valley Life article buried among the ads, kind words from Phil and Decorating neighbour dissuaded me from packing it in next year. Phil returned from the late shift with sausages and mini brownies. Tussling brightness and indigestion, I took Gaviscon, drew curtains left open by Phil and used the meditation soundtrack to drift into bad sleep.

Monday, I felt like I’d been hit round the head. Ignoring my pleas to delay chores, Phil accepted the Boots delivery and assembled rubbish. I unpacked toiletries, added cardboard to the pile and went back to bed. He brought me brownies with the coffee. “I don’t want them,” I snapped. As he took them away, I apologised: “It’s not you, it’s depression at still being ill, especially in nice weather.” I posted September’s journal entry while he went to the co-op and work, bringing home food rescued from waste. Grateful for any freebies, I could’ve done with the ready salads earlier. Hot flushes added to another crap night. My nose running Tuesday, Phil asked: “Are you still sniffly?” “Yes, but the fatigue is worse.” “Cheer up.” “No!” “I’ll pull funny faces.” “God no!” My mind wandering until he made moves, I leapt up to sort washing for him to add work clothes, bathed, ignored kitchen clutter and plodded back up with coffee. Too hot and bright to write with sun streaming in, I’d had enough of being bedbound, opened the window, put a dress on and went down for lunch. Phil related tales from The Store, explaining how well-packed herbs sometimes arrived damaged. Otherwise, there was little waste. I thought it’d reduced loads over the past 2 years, but declared it enough shop talk. “I literally am talking shop!” I joined him on a short canal walk in mellowing light, returning with backache and jelly-legs but cheerierⁱ.

Woken Wednesday by Phil rising for work and noisy traffic, I ignored aches and fatigue for some exercise and tidying before PMQs. Going on errands, I noted an unlocked front door and a felled trellis, hastened to town in a nithering wind and spotted Phil leaving The Store. As I tried catching up, he moved uncannily fast after a long shift, into the sweet shop. “Gotcher!” “No you haven’t. It’s for someone else.” Walking home, I imparted the bad trellis news. “Pah! Call that bad news?” He tied it up, then panicked over his mislaid phone “You need to eat.” “I can’t think about that now!” “I’ll ring it for you.” “It’s on silent so that’s no good.” I called the number. It vibrated. “See, no need for all that stress!” Thursday, I dithered over shopping. Trees across the valley making rain clouds, it was too foul for the market, so it was the co-op again. Having noticed the microwave clock at zero for the second time that week, a short power-cut was confirmed by half-empty shelves. You’d never get that level of waste in the Store! I eschewed outrageously-priced toiletries, miserably slogged home and went back to bed.

Text reminders told us to book covid boosters with a GP or local pharmacy. Finally getting his shift patterns, I rang Friday. 6^th in the queue, I actually managed to get slots early November but we couldn’t go due to colds. I also asked about HRT. The nice receptionist sent the doctor a ‘task’, advising I call back Monday. Waitrose reported increased fish-head and lamb neck sales for use in slow cookers. We couldn’t decide whether to buy one. Eating the last of my birthday chocolates, Phil whined that he’d not had as many. “Excuse me. You can’t buy me chocs then whinge you’ve been diddled!” But I gave him the last one.

High covid levels peaked but deaths were up to 400 week ending October 7^th, ahead of winter, adding to NHS pressure. The Moderna bivalent vaccine was found to be ‘good’ for a mere 3 months. Speaking to Laura K., the couple who developed the BioNTech version, still wore masks and advised we all did, especially if mixing with travellers. Building on what they’d learnt, they hoped for a cancer vaccine by 2030.

Laura asked The Cock if Truss should go. He replied a reshuffle was needed to make use of backbench ‘talent’(!) but nobody wanted another protracted leadership race. No: some wanted Rishi, some wanted Boris and Unison’s Christina McAnea wanted a general election. Depressed public sector pay could mean 1 million taking co-ordinated action. Nasty rhetoric and Therese Coffee-Cup telling nurses fed-up of the NHS to leave, didn’t help. If they got more, they’d spend it in local shops and Tesco. UK GDP 30 places behind Ireland, Tesco Boss did what he could to help customers and 300,000 shopfloor staff. Uncle Joe licked ice cream in Oregon. ‘Sick and tired’ of trickle-down economics, he disagreed with tax cuts for the super-wealthy but that was up to Britain. EU newspapers compared the UK to loser countries and Rob Halfon accused government of acting like ‘Libertarian Jihadists’ with us as guinea pigs. Yes, in an experiment based on ‘Britannia Unchained’ by Truss et al of the Thatcherite Free Enterprise Group. No costings or income streams apart from borrowing, made it a wish list, not a budget. Post-Brexit, post-covid, soaring energy costs, rampant inflation and a recession looming, it was the worst time for their madcap free market drivel*.

After a weekend ensconced at Chequers, Truss tried to shore up ministerial support and The C**t tried settling markets by scrapping all Kwasi’s measures except National Insurance and stamp duty cuts, bigger bankers’ bonuses, and, irresponsible to expose government to price volatility, muted an end to the energy cap in April. No benefit increases until then, ‘eye-watering’ cost-savings and more ‘difficult decisions’ on spending to come, everything was on the table. Borrowing still higher than before the kamikaze budget, the IFS and Sturgeon feared a return to austerity and Keir attempted to haul Truss in for urgent questions over long-term damage. Sent in her stead, Mordor said through gritted teeth, her boss was ‘detained on urgent business’. Amid the derision, Stella Creasy joked she hid under the desk. She actually met Graham Brady then shuffled onto the frontbench at 4.30. It wouldn’t be long ‘til she shuffled off again. Chris Mason asked was Rishi right? She replied she was sorry, had to reflect, ensure economic stability and advised fellow tories to not spend tough times talking about the party.

At PMQs, Justin Madders wondered why Truss sacked Kwasi Modo and not herself? She parroted an apology and guff on delivery. Keir wittily cited a Truss biography. Out by Christmas, was that the release date or the title? In fact, she was out by November**. Spouting crap, she said she’d taken more action than him after 2½ years in the job (err, he wasn’t the PM!) He queried how she could be held to account when she wasn’t in charge and the point of making promises that didn’t last a week – cuts loomed for one reason only; they crashed the economy but her only response was to say sorry. She said he backed strikers, she backed strivers. He retorted, with a mandate based on nothing and credibility gone, why was she still here? She screeched “I’m a fighter, not a quitter,” acting in the interests of the nation while he presented no alternative. After 10 U-turns in 2 weeks, Ian Blackford feared pensioners were in the tory cut frontline. Thinking it better seeing the PM behind a desk rather than under it, Stella Creasy asked a daft question on rights to watch sport, leaving Philippa Whitford and Sarah Owen to suggest she do the decent thing. An economist on Daily Politics said the growth plan was gone and a labour government meant even higher spending. Lisa Nandy replied theirs was growth plan, they’d be careful with every penny of public money and put more in people’s pockets. Stephen Baker denied they’d wrecked the economy and ignored Lisa’s quizzing on listening to the OBR. She spluttered, how dare you talk about waste when this government wasted billions, set fire to unusable PPE and wrote off covid fraud? As he spewed more lies that society was to blame and nowt to do with 12 years of the tories, Lisa couldn’t believe what she heard. After an interview with Baker, Channel 4 news anchor Kris Guru-Murthy muttered “what a cunt.” Taken off air for a week, Baker said sacking him would be a public service but then accepted an apology.

In a fatal blow, Swellen resigned over sending official docs from her private e-mail and wrote she owned her mistake, unlike the PM: “pretending we haven’t made mistakes, carrying on as if everyone can’t see we have made them…hoping things magically come right is not serious politics.” Phil erroneously thought it showed integrity. 43 days as Home Sec the least since the Duke of Wellington, Grant Shats, who’d criticised Truss 2 days before, stepped in. Seen as a confidence vote, tories were whipped to oppose a labour bill banning fracking Wednesday evening. Amid fracking chaos, Rees-Moggy marched MPs through the ‘no’ lane. Chris Bryant accused him of bullying. Chief whip Wendy Morton and deputy Craigy Babe (declaring “I don’t give a fuck anymore”) resigned. On Jeremy Vine Thursday, 13-year old Casper grasped politics better than grown-ups saying: “If you don’t have a government with integrity, how can they govern properly?” The fracas culminated in Truss standing at the lectern at 1.00 p.m. Unable to deliver the mandate members elected her to deliver, she’d spoken to Kingy and resigned. So much for fighting, not quitting! ‘To maintain stability and continuity’(sic), she and Graham Brady agreed an expediated leadership election within a week – the shortest-serving PM ever didn’t even last that long. Asked was it a dog’s dinner, Brady stammered, “Well, it’s certainly not a circumstance I would wish to see.” Candidates needing at least 100 backers, there’d be only 2 by Monday. Truss’ popularity at -70%, realising what a fuck-up they’d made, it was just as well members didn’t get to vote with 1/3 braying for Boris (whose popularity low was -55%). International leaders had a good laugh and QT was shown live. Rachel Johnson observed the Jeremy Vine lettuce outlived Truss. Even the carefully-curated audience called for a general election except 4 calling for Boris, who had a proper mandate and was ‘hounded out’. Tony Danker said if tories put country and economy first and stuck to C**t’s plan (which we didn’t yet know), they might have a chance. Camilla Cavendish, FT, favoured Rishi as he went all the way with Truss! All agreeing Keir was credible, he’d have no money to implement bold plans which Graham Stuart called unaffordable and unrealistic. Jess Philips was flabbergasted a minister said labour would crash the economy when they’d just crashed the economy. While true they didn’t know what they could afford thanks to Truss, they’d borrow to invest, not to cut the rich’s taxes.

Government loan interest at £7.7bn, inflation was back at 10.1%. Food up 14.5%, it’d be more if it weren’t for petrol. Shop sales dipped below pre-pandemic levels. Calling it junk food, The Guardian featured web sellers of discounted out-of-date groceriesⁱⁱⁱ. Wittily alluding to Swellen whingeing about support for strikers, they asked for money from ‘tofu-eating workerati’ (obviously part of the anti-growth coalition!) At her last TUC conference, Frances O’Grady was angry at toxic tories, aka ‘Robin Hood in reverse’. NHS and care workers leaving for better-paid jobs, those left couldn’t cope and were balloted. More rail and tube strikes were announced for early November. Anne-Marie Trevelyan wheeled out ostensibly to discuss laws enforcing minimum service on strike days, Mick Lynch advised she get on with sorting out the dispute. CWU said PO strikes weren’t about pay but T&C changes, ‘uberising’ staff in secure, well-paid jobs into a ‘casualised, financially precarious workforce overnight’. CGT asking for 10% rises, French oil, rail, teaching and hospital workers struck. South Yorks trams would revert to public control in 2024. 6 towns already writing bids, drafting of the Great British Railways bill stopped – delayed or cancelled? Keighley trialled noise-detecting cameras to spot needless engine revving and a joker chucked a microwave at a car in Gainsborough. A crackdown on protests planned, TfL sought injunctions when Just Stop Oil blocked Park Lane Sunday and 2 protestors climbed up the QE bridge above the M25 Tuesday, to have fireworks thrown at them and get arrested when they descended, making a total of 150 during 2 weeks’ action. On Jeremy Vine, Anne Widdecombe was in favour of running them over rather than shutting the road. Friday, Harrods was sprayed orange and it was revealed Aileen Getty donated £900,000 to a Climate Emergency Fund giving some activists a ‘small income’.

The Pentagon wavering on funding Starlink, Elon Musk still gave the Ukrainian internet service £17.8m a month. 23 Iranian kamikaze drones shot down over Kyiv, 5 hit the ground. The EU were ‘following closely’ as it may have broken the Iran nuclear deal. 30% of Ukrainian power stations hit, Vlod said negotiating with Vlad was no longer an option. Martial law was declared in the 4 ‘Russian’ regions and civilians evacuated as Ukrainians advanced. Suspended for sexual misconduct, labour MP Christian Matheson resigned. Kevin Spacey was cleared in a civil case and faced a legal prosecution. Daniel Craig became a Champion of The Order of St Michael & St George, emulating Ian Fleming – he’d come a long way from the feckless Geordie in Our Friends in the North. An artisan at the National Glass Centre, Sunderland made a glass pumpkin. Much better than firing real ones from a canon, like Essex farmer Ross McGowan. What a waste!

Scary Monsters, Super Creeps

A stunning morning, wet roofs glistened and trees echoed an orange-yellow dawn Saturday 22^nd. Phil finished an early shift in time for a colourful woods walkⁱ. Knackered after a total 20,000 steps, he rested. Aching all over, I could’ve used one too but instead, edited photos and read family WhatsApp messages which crashed my phone. A headache unfair after moderate drinking, I cheered up Sunday laughing at creepy Rees-Moggy living in the 18^th century. More overnight rain led to a dank day. Disinclined to visit the pumpkin festival, I installed the Halloween tree and devised a Christmas card while Phil worked. I had to shield him 3 times from spoilers of the feature-length Dr. Who until he’d watched it on iPlayer.

dull Monday spent on the phone to the surgery and British Gas, I haggled and stripped down the cover to halve the homecare quote. Head done in by admin, I ironed piles of summer clothes. The Metro app failed to load Tuesday, then updated to resemble all the other crap news sites. Phil found a way to access puzzles but the dimensions were all wrong. He disrupted kitchen chores bounding down the stairs shouting “there’s a chunk out the sun!” No forewarning of an eclipse, I hurried up to view a semi-circular disc like a Pac-man bite. Despite clouds and lens filters, my eyes became sore. I switched to infra-red turning the sky magenta. I left Phil preparing for work and ambled to the surgery wearing too many layers in unexpected warmth. The GP had advised I see a nurse before a tele-appointment, but I got a different story from the receptionist. The follow-up to discuss HRT would be with another nurse. God knew how you got to actually see a GP nowadays! Wearing a mask in the waiting room, no other patients did. When the nurse eventually appeared, she informed me they were only compulsory for staff, asked a few questions and took my vitals. Weighing less than last time, I said I’d been good, unlike with smoking. My only worrying vice and not causing a cough, she posited “if you stop, you might get one.” “You’re not supposed to say that. You should encourage me!” As she babbled on, I wasn’t surprised there’d been a delay – she could talk for England. I dawdled to the co-op where gaps included the fab cheap exotic stuff -had it run out? Paying at the kiosk, a fly crept along the counter. “That came out of your wallet.” My Mate jibed. “Cheeky! What are you saying!” Back home, I was startled by an e-mail from Valley Life. The next deadline in a week’s time, it didn’t seem 5 mins since the last one. Phil returned with a huge goody bag as the Ex-Landlady had stuffed in extras. “She must think you need feeding up!” We decadently ate some of the cream glut with tinned peaches.

Planning an earlier start, I’d set the alarm to be jolted from disturbed sleep Wednesday. The trees glowed gold above parched fields. Lolling on the couch, Phil whinged Shutterstock used the AI pic generator to mash up his photos then was magically ready – irksome as I’d rushed round all morning preparing for an outing. We swerved roadworks where the workman was hard at it, drinking Lucozade and tapping his phone, crossed to the bus stop, paid £2 flat fares and chatted on the ride Up Tops. Observing we’d miss the new PM’s first PMQs, we predicted a disparate cabinet descending into chaos, a reshuffle consisting of arse-licking creeps and another coup – watch this space! We alighted to walk into The Crags, admire effervescent woodland, bag almost-free apples and see a heron catching a fishⁱ. The longest jaunt for some time left us footsore, achy and muddy. As I removed clarted jeans, I feared mucky bits on the rug came off me. I was glad of leftovers and more peaches and cream for dinner.

Blissfully asleep until Phil rose early Thursday, I dozed, felt iffy, changed bedding, recovered with coffee, edited the Valley Life article and went out with Walking Friend, dissuading her from heron-spotting in favour of the market. A waste of time, I found a mere 2 of the sought toiletry items and was piqued by the man taking ages serving a couple. In the Med Café, busy with half-term families, we discussed spice preferences and recent walks, including her misadventures with The Poet, over versions of brekkie.

Phil rang after work to see where we were and pull faces through the window. His brekkie came quick and disappeared in his gob quick. Doing more errands, we saw a heron on the weir – no need to go hunting after all! In the large charity shop, we found a monopod and Armani jeans. A tired Phil took then home. My friend and I visited more charity shops and laughed at Noir crap. “I can’t look. It hurts my eyes. People buy that shit. Scary!” Walking her to the bus stop, I advised she opted into NI payments. Overwhelmed by stuff to do Friday, I got upset struggling with the bath tap. Phil came to help: “I thought you were actually crying.” “I was!” Doing admin after lunch got fractious. Trying to log onto online banking, the annoyingly hot, slow laptop found no internet. I gave up and stomped to the kitchen to make apple cake and chutney. Phil came to stir it up and prep jars. Feeling calmer, we totted up household outgoings, freaked by the unavoidable sums.

Wobbly during the last weekend of October, I stayed in. Saturday, we made butter from souring cream, taking turns shaking a jar until a butterball formed. I left buttermilk straining through a filter paper to use for Yorkshire pud batter, while Phil did my hair. Lunch involved a veritable country kitchen of 4 homemade items! Sniffy all day, Phil took a hot lemon drink up for an afternoon rest before a seasonal dinner and creepy films. Rain put me off going for knobbly veg Sunday. Instead, I edited photos, worked on the Valley Life article, got head fug and cleaned the bathroom in fading light as the stupid bulb popped. Phil got home from The Store with another bag of stuff – the benefits of working a late Sunday shift!

On Halloween, BBC breakfast said we should’ve got the first £66 under the energy bills support scheme. Many on pre-paid meters hadn’t received vouchers, but I couldn’t fathom ours. I re-checked accounts and rang BG to be in a 1½ hour queue. On the 3^rd attempt, an unintelligible Asian woman said I’d been transferred to BG evolve whatever that was. On hold again, this time with no clue for how long, I conceded defeat, sent off the Valley Life article and posted blogs. Then we both went out, him to work, me to the co-op. Barely able to think with a cacophony of screeching kids, I raced out the back door. A two-way traffic jam round the roadworks had cleared leaving an eerily empty road. With no trick or treaters, I ate a lolly from a selection bag. Late evening, my nose clogged and head drooped. Phil asked why I pulled faces. “I’m getting a cold. Your cold!” Expunging nasty gunk overnight, proved me right this time.

Numbers stable, hospital admissions fell, 10 million had autumn boosters and statins reduced deaths from severe covid by 37%. Flu down the last 2 years due to less face-licking, the 2022 season started early. High rates for under 5’s. those eligible were urged to get jabs. Taking over Llandudno and evading contraception during covid restrictions, the increased goat population ate hedges, slept in bus shelters and brawled in carparks. The council set up a task force to move them back up the Great Orme but they clearly preferred town life. 30 new cases this month, 2.3m farm birds infected with Avian flu by their wild cousins were culled, a nationwide prevention zone imposed and vaccines researched.

Boris flew back from yet another Caribbean holiday Monday 24^th to drop out of the leaders race, saying he had support but it wasn’t the right time and he couldn’t unite the party. Yeah right! Nowt to do with the privileges committee inquiry! Rishi became the first British Asian PM by default on Diwali. Mainstream media didn’t mention the partial solar eclipse (another bad omen) as Trussed-UP inanely spoke Tuesday, not ruing dragging us to the brink: ‘I’m right you’re all wrong’. Off to the funny farm, Liz!

Rishi met Kingy. Orating on unity and stability in tough times, he ‘fully appreciated’ how hard things were, pledged “a stronger NHS, better schools, safer streets, control of our borders, protecting our environment, supporting our armed forces and levelling up.” David Farquharson made a Truss dog toy. Shipped at a cost of £3,500 after she resigned, it served him right for getting them from China! He hoped ‘politically incorrect’ retailers would buy them.

Brexiteers on Romford market wanted Boris back and Scarborough chippies whinged staff shortages curbed opening hours, even in peak season.

The C**t, Wally, Babadook and Uncleverly stayed in post, Glove-Puppet returned to level up, Steve Barclay became health sec and Coffee-Cup moved to environment. Rees-Moggy was replaced by Shats, Dowdy became cabinet sec, Gillian Keegan ed sec, and Rabid Raab deputy PM and justice sec- replacing Swiss Toni who sorted out the barristers dispute created by Raab (not widely reported, they got the 15% pay rise) and Swellen returned as home sec. Labour crowed, Boris might not be back but his cabinet was. Accused of doing a grubby deal, Rishi defended her re-appointment. As Jake Berry revealed she broke the code lots, labour called on Simon Case to investigate. On QT, David Lammy said Rishi had no mandate, awful Hartley-Brewer said the NHS couldn’t save lives, and Lucy Fraser lied there were 46 new hospitals. A nurse in the audience wanted better facilities not more hospitals. Armand Iannucci wondered where the social care plan Boris had at the start of his tenure was, blamed Brexit for staff shortages and 16-year-old interns for writing bad policy. Newscast replaced by another programme of nattering men in suits, I watched last week’s on iPlayer wherein Keir said it was better to be boring rather than exciting and create a scary Truss-like mess.

The Glove-puppet took a weekend off clubbing to tell Laura K. Swellen had integrity, would be great at her job, and make promises on extra help for households. Excerpts from the biography revealed that as foreign sec, Trussed-Up was more interested in selfies for socials than being briefed before meetings. Laughing at her rider comprising posh espresso, chilled Sauvignon Blanc and no mayo, Spreadsheet Phil preferred to go with the flow. At a special Stormont sitting on deadline day, Michelle O’Neil complained Jeffrey Donaldson’s refusal to power-share ‘til the Northern Ireland protocol was scrapped, a ‘failure of leadership’.

The Halloween fiscal statement delayed, the Beeb went to Creepy Crawley and Rabid Raab insisted it’d ensure it ‘stood the test of time’ and OBR forecast accuracy. They predicted the total cost of the government bail-out would’ve been £2.2 bn. On the day Kingy 50p coins were minted, former BOE boss Lord Mervyn King blamed the bigger boys, i.e., global banks, for printing money and over-borrowing during the pandemic. In favour of slow growth, he feared cuts worsening the situation. Octopus bought Bulb which collapsed last November. Ofcom encouraged internet providers to put customers before profits. Dipping into reserves for day-to-day costs, schools were running out of money. Threatened with legal action by South Yorks mayor for asset-stripping Robin Hood airport, Peel Group denied claims of a ‘credible buyer’. Ambulance workers joined nurse ballots, while an NHS recruitment drive aimed to replace 40,000 who quit last year. 2,000 Scotrail drivers and Avanti managers struck over rosters, Stagecoach staged more talks in Hull, Co-op Funeralcare coffin-makers in Glasgow started a week’s strike and announced more in November.

Only 29 of 193 countries meeting COP26 commitments, Guterres feared global catastrophe but was optimistic rumours of UK targets being ditched weren’t true. Rishi said he wouldn’t go to COP27 due to more ‘pressing domestic commitments’. What on earth was more important? Labour called ousting Alok Sharma from cabinet, despite going to hand over the presidency, a failure of leadership, and Caroline Green said it made a mockery of government claims on climate leadership. Coffee-cup disrespectfully told LBC: “The UK continues to show global leadership as opposed to just a gathering of people in Egypt.” Dead crustaceans littered the North East coast (was it algae or pollution?) and Southern Water spewed sewage into the sea at St. Agnes, Cornwall. Frank Spencer spewed platitudes on making progress.

More of the foreign aid budget spent on refugees in the UK than abroad, none of the 38,000 channel-crossers had asylum decisions. The Home Office unable to cope, conditions at Manston processing centre left inspector David Neal ‘speechless’. 66 year-old Andrew Leak threw petrol bombs and fireworks at the Western Jet Foil camp in Dover then killed himself. Islamophobic rants found on his Facebook page, terror police investigated. Amid fire damage, 700 were bussed to Manston, plagued by MRSA, scabies and diphtheria. Children screamed ‘freedom!’ over the fence. In the Commons, Yvette Coop accused Swellen of ‘working outside the law’ not providing extra hotel accommodation. Swellen retorted we needed to know which party was serious about stopping the ‘invasion’. Many of them allegedly recruited by criminal gangs in French camps, we should ‘stop pretending’ they were refugees in distress. How did she know if they weren’t processed? Swellen promised the 10,000 Albanians would be dealt with ‘within days’. The system broken and illegal migration ‘out of control’, she was on the side of getting a grip. The opposition guffawed at her incompetence. Also quizzed on breaking the ministerial code, Tulip Siddiq referred Swellen to FCA.

Xi Jinping became the first Chinese leader re-elected for a third term since Mao. Sergey Naryshkin of the Russian spy service denied Kremlin nuclear bombast, saying it was all Western rhetoric. He’d warned colleagues in Turkey, USA and France of Ukrainian plans to use ‘dirty bombs’. With no evidence, it was an obvious red flag. A huge Israeli raid in Nablus, West Bank wounded 21 Palestinians and killed 5. 3 were members of The Lion’s Den independent militia. Trump was subpoenaed over the Capitol Hill debacle, 6^th January 2021. Bolsonaro lost the Brazil presidency to Da Silva but didn’t concede defeat, a la Trump. At the biggest Halloween fest since before the pandemic in Seoul, 150,000 including a K-Pop star, died crushing to see a celeb. Riots and fireworks set Dundee on fire. Great Balls of Fire crooner Jerry Lee Lewis died. The dirtiest man in the world perished after having a wash. Villagers in Dejgah, Iran, persuaded 94 year old hermit ‘Amou Haji’ who ate roadkill and smoked animal poo, to shower. Musk’s Twitter take-over complete, he sacked execs and promised radical change (i.e., allowing toxic ‘free speech’ and charging for blue ticks). Adidas ended their deal with Ye over antisemitism. Losing his billionaire status, he was worth a mere £400m. Yesus! My heart bleeds!

Notes:

*Britannia Unchained: Global Lessons For Growth And Prosperity. Kwasi Kwarteng, Pritti Patel, Dominic Raab, Chris Skidmore & Liz Truss

**Out of The Blue: The Inside Story of the Unexpected Rise and Rapid Fall of Liz Truss. Harry Cole & James Heale

References:

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

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

iii. Cheap food links: https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2022/oct/15/cheap-deli9cious-and-only-three-years-out-of-date-my-week-of-eating-food-past-its-best-before; https://cheapfood.co.uk/; https://www.rogerswholesalefoods.co.uk/

Part 106 – Clownfall

“Too many people are losing the battle to keep a roof over their heads – struggling to pay rent and put food in their mouths…the next Prime Minister needs to get a grip on this crisis, and fast” (Polly Neate)

Liar, Liar!

July 1^st, I managed a full day out of bed, hung washing in sunshine and nipped in the art shop for an open studios brochure on the way to the co-op. As I danced in the aisles to ‘The Chelsea Song’*, someone said “nice moves, Mary!” I turned and smiled before recognising Bully Ex-neighbour. That was the end of blanking her, then! A rain shower eased as I walked back alongside Irish Neighbour who predicted it’d stop altogether when we got home. Alas, it didn’t. As it got wetter, Phil dashed out to fetch the laundry. Sun returning, I started to peg it back, but darkening skies made me abandon the idea. The Widower chatted to The Woman Next Door. His unleashed dog roamed the street, weed near our door and jumped up to plant 2 matching muddy paw prints on my light summer jeans. The Widower apologised and offered to wash them. I said it was okay, then went in to rant and soak the jeans.

ONS estimated covid went up another 32%, with 1:35 infected in Yorkshire and 1:25 in Calderdale. Prof Linda Bauld blamed holidaymakers returning from Portugal. Shats unveiled a 22 point plan for air flights. Scottish cops withdrew ‘goodwill’. The work to rule was triggered by a ‘derisory’ offer of £564 extra pay.

Waking early with a cough Saturday, I sucked a pastille and fell back asleep. Both tired, we stayed in. Phil cut my hair and tackled the greasy kitchen then rested while I cleaned floors and went to the co-op for beer. Bantering with My Mate at the kiosk, a woman randomly mentioned Crackerjack. “It’s Friday, it’s 5 to 5…” I quoted. “Oops! I’m showing my age. I know I don’t look it!” Hitherto cloudy, I strolled back in the gorgeous evening and stopped to chat with German Friend warming in sunshine outside her house. Her next-door’s makeshift patio an improvement on the caravan, I desisted in calling it a bit gammon when she said they were nice neighbours. Bemoaning a lack of parking space, set to worsen with the mill development, she planned to bring it up at their upcoming street party. Wondering what good that would do, Phil agreed the fallacy it was a private street gave them delusions of authority! The Woman Next Door had parked in the middle of our street. When End Neighbour arrived, I banged on next door and faked fear of being run over as she backed up. The Widower similarly struggled to park then discovered he’d brought the wrong keys out and had to enter a daft code to get spares from a box. I stayed out to soak up rays, swept cobwebs off the window and lopped the rosebush to prevent eye pokes.

Arriva bus services resumed during talks but the strike was back on a week later. 1,000 confirmed cases, mostly in London, Pride revellers were told to stay home if they had monkeypox symptoms and vaccine was offered to contacts.

Quorn sausage instead of meat Sunday, felt like a treat. That mightn’t last as farmers losing £30 per pig threatened to stop production. Phil said “The government can’t admit Brexit’s a mess and there’s no money coming in through trade.” “What about VAT? If they don’t do something, it’ll be more costly when we all die of malnutrition!” Bunman reckoned this was more of a health risk than the pandemic.

Phil having no luck job-hunting, I proposed offering IT skills to artists. Open Studios a good place to start, we visited the main venues. In the first, a woman created charming bird paintings and inspiring collages. Phil offered to take photos of her pictures so she could sell prints online. Mysteriously seeing nobody we knew in the next studio, we climbed steep steps to the upper art mill floors where Photography Friend chuckled: “About time you showed up!” We discussed selling her greetings cards online and the trials of videoing. Browsing jewellery, I was greeted by the silversmith who turned out to be End Neighbour’s daughter.

After visiting a couple of charity shops, we crossed a square busy with bikers and other motley folk to get pop, and supped it near the wavy steps. Lads built a fort on duck island, a boy disgustingly picked up birdseed to hand-feed pigeons, and a misfit black and white mallard mixed with waterfowl until a dog splashed into the water.

It emerged Boris used a government jet to holiday in Cornwall last month. An ill-briefed Thérèse Coffee-Cup was wheeled out to parrot Number 10 press office lines. Most covid infections caused by the BA.5 Omicron subvariant, Thicko Dr. Jenny Harries resurrected the old ‘hands, face, space’ mantra, advised face-masks in busy indoor places and those with respiratory illnesses stayed home. As Russia took control of Lysychansk and accused Ukraine of missile strikes on Belgorod, Gen Mark Milley made parallels between Russian invasions and Nazi Germany but NATO stronger than ever, didn’t think we were on the road to war. Lord Brownnose allegedly got his knighthood for rescuing Bonny Prince Charlie’s daft Dumfries eco homes plan.

Iffy with twinges Monday, I resolved to not stay abed, posted a haiga, drafted blogs, and went to the co-op. The Bonkers woman fretted with a friend over what she could afford for tea. Things were bad if the middle classes were worried! I eschewed pricey items for a low-cost top-up. The young cashier very fast, I asked did he work at Lidl before? “No, kitchens.” I dumped bags near the front door, filled the watering can from the outside tap and jumped at a “Hello Mary.” I hadn’t seen The Woman Next Door on her doorstep. It was hard to keep a straight face as she held a bonger in one hand and traced circles round her face with a tuning fork in the other. Phil guessed it was some zen shit. DIY tuning fork therapy, actually. He was in stiches at a woman on Look North who clearly bought her furnishings from Noir: “And look at that gammon tan!” Thinking he said ‘Gammantine’, I asked if that was a new décor style.

Having said they had no evidence, the BBC admitted 6 complaints against DJ Tim Westwood who police spoke to once. Downing Street stated that aware of ‘reports and speculation’, Boris referred to the ex-whip as ‘Pincher by name, Pincher by nature’, but didn’t know of any substantiated allegations. The National Gallery was evacuated when Just Stop Oil protesters superimposed an apocalyptic future vision onto Constable’s Haywain and glued themselves to the frame. The next day, they augmented The Last Supper at the Royal Academy. Motorists staged country-wide motorway go-slows. Yorkshire cops deployed stingers and chilled-out Bristol cops provided an escort, but arrested 12 for blocking the Prince of Wales Bridge. Due to local food costs, school caterers switched from chicken to turkey and beef to gammon, largely imported. No fuel for teachers, Sri Lanka extended school closures another week. Suspecting bird flu killed chicks on the Farne Isles, NT banned boat trips. 6 were massacred and 36 injured during a Chicago Independence Day parade. Culprit and wannabee rapper Robert E. Crimo III posted cartoons of himself doing the shooting.

Waking frequently, I ended up oversleeping Tuesday. Phil sorted stuff still in bags from Leeds and gave me a posh ruler for to-scale measuring: handy for all that model-building I did! Feeling sleepy, I quit writing for active chores to be stymied by him nabbing the hoover.

Wage growth below inflation, The Resolution Foundation warned 1:4 people’s savings wouldn’t last a month if they lost their job. Lynch told the RMT conference the current strike was the fight of a lifetime. Offered 6%, Bosch Rexworth factory workers in Fife walked out. High street coffee almost £3 a cup, Pret a Manger returned to profit. Hundreds of BA flights cancelled, EasyJet COO Peter Bellew quit over chaos. 40% of travel insurance policies gave insufficient strike or covid cover. At 7.00 a.m., former top FCO civil servant Lord Simon McDonald, published a letter telling Kathryn Stone Boris knew about The Pincher in 2019, belying claims allegations were ‘unsubstantiated’. It was news to ex-foreign minister Rabid Raab. Boris blathered to Chris Mason it was a mistake to make The Pincher a whip. Barely sensical, he ‘tried to explain’ he was ‘focused on other things’. Yeah! Saving your own skin! MPs in constituencies over the weekend asked how many boys they’d touched up and ministers sick of looking stupid fire-fighting for their boss, Rishi and Goblin Saj resigned early evening. The Goblin said: “I can no longer, in good conscience, continue to serve in this government.” Rishi wrote: “The public rightly expect government to be conducted properly, competently and seriously.” Nads Zahawi hilariously became Chancellor on the spot. Tarzan Heseltine told Newsnight it was the end. Instrumental in ousting Thatcher, he should know. 12 overnight resignations included solicitor general Alex Chalk. Boris predictably phoned Vlod.

Again up late Wednesday, I worked on the journal and watched PMQs. Keir said promoting The Pincher despite known predatory behaviour was serious; the PM handed him power and was propped up by a party defending the indefensible. A ‘charge of the very light brigade’, we needed rid of the ‘zed list cast of nodding dogs’. Boris reiterated labour had no plan, rudely pointed at the shadow cabinet and disbelieved Keir’s vow to not re-join the EU against the will of the people which had incensed Guardianistas. Ian Blackford guffawed at Boris’ hope of 3 terms in office: “If a week is a long time in politics, 10 days is a lifetime.” Instead of discussing the cost of living and Brexit, as usual, it was all about Boris. Rather than the Monty Python Black Knight, he was the dead parrot. Liz Saville said as the PM always put his political survival before the country’s interests, he was the best recruitment sergeant for independence they could wish for. Tory backbenchers on the attack, was it time to do the decent thing and resign? Lindsay Hoyle told applauding MPs they should be ashamed. Delivering a resignation statement, Goblin Saj said he wasn’t one of life’s quitters, cared deeply about public service, it was a privilege to be trusted in a tough role, nothing mattered more than people’s health, and paid tribute to all in health and social care motivated by the national interest. But they couldn’t allow division to become entrenched, treading a tightrope between loyalty and integrity was now impossible and it was unfair to be made to defend ‘lies’. He’d given the benefit of the doubt over Partygate but enough was enough, problems started at the top, that wouldn’t change, and the choice to stay in the cabinet was an active decision.

Phil headed for Leeds and I for errands in nasty drizzle, getting inflated cough sweets and PJs, £1 crop pants to use for patches on worn-out ones, and DVDs in charity shops. I stopped to reminisce with New Gran and Partner babysitting outside Corner Pub about when it resembled an after-school club.

The RCN said the end of special NHS covid leave showed how little the government cared about staff. Hospitals re-introduced mask-wearing. Unaware it’d gone away, did it explain last months’ dream? On the day of the NI threshold rise, the pound dropped against the dollar. 38 resignations by teatime the most within 24 hours in history, a cabinet delegation plus Graham Brady, waited to tell the PM time was up, as he told the public liaison committee he was getting on with governing the country. Refusing to go, he called the Glove-Puppet a snake and sacked him. Reporters stood in Downing Street battling chants of ‘Boris out!’

On the market Thursday, a customer discussed lobsters with the fishmonger. ”What about langoustines?” I asked, to get a tirade about the only Fleetwood trawler being foreign-owned. I didn’t ask did he vote Brexit! I continued onto the co-op after lunch, gardened in warm sun when Walking Friend came by on her way to town and invited me for a drink. She sat on the bench while I cleared up and The Widower walked his shorn dog past. “Has she had a haircut?” In reply, he removed his hat to display a buzzcut. “That’s dramatic!” I waited outside the pet shop then in a seething square while she erranded. Cafés shutting, I consented to Corner Pub where New Gran and Partner promptly left. “Typical! The one time I’m stopping!” I joked. Walking Friend bought us pints and herself a nibble. Saying she often sat home alone when not working or walking, I invited her for coffee anytime. We’d left Phil doing a work for Alexa. I texted ‘3 guesses’ to which he replied: ‘I only need 1!’ When he arrived, she insisted on buying another round while he ate her congealed garlic bread and made friends with a dog. Behind on the drinking, he wanted another pint, then got hungry. Her bus due, we bade thanks and goodbye. Drowsy after the beer, sleep eluded me until tinnitus suddenly stopped and the world went quiet.

Reporters had reason to stand in Downing Street for once. After a tsunami of 60 government resignations, Boris finally quit, as party leader, not PM. Deflecting blame onto his colleagues, he hastily reshuffled cabinet into a ‘caretaker government’, promising no ‘major change of direction’ ‘til election of a new leader. Phil remarked on the typical Britishness of The Pincher being the final straw after a tsunami of lies! Andrea Jenkyns gave the finger on her way to become education minister. “What a great example to young people!” I exclaimed. “It’s like a corrupt government of a loser country. They all need shoving against the wall!” John Major said the PM should go immediately and Keir threatened a confidence vote if he didn’t. Leadership contenders reaching 11 within days, Boris didn’t endorse any in case it scuppered their chances. Vlod sad, the EU were glad and hoped to ‘reset’ the relationship with the UK. NCA arrested people-traffickers and seized dinghies and paraphernalia from warehouses across Europe. Foreigners allowed at Hajj for the first time in 2 years, 1 million selected by lottery had to be under 65, vaccinated and test negative for covid. Former Japanese PM Shinzo Abe was assassinated while campaigning and Rollerball legend James Khan died.

Erase and Rewind?

A knock on the door Friday signalled Walking Friend dropping off a promised item. She asked was I alright after the pub. “Yes and no; it was lovely but there was loads of stuff I didn’t get done.” “I know. We’ll plan it next time.” Intending to go for a walk after I‘d draft-posted the journal, it was rather late and I still felt tired. Instead, I raked leaves and helped Phil rescue confused bees. Among the comings and goings, Decorating Neighbour asked if we knew anything about End Neighbour. Meant to be holidaying, she had covid. “I’ve no idea. Her daughter said nothing when we saw her Sunday” After drinking rather a lot of wine, I slept reasonably well and had a long episodic dream involving weird office-related crap.

NatWest staff on under £32,000 offered a 4% rise, Unite said it was better than a one-off payment. Oil prices up again, wind power was the cheapest ever. Keir and Rayner were cleared of breaking covid laws during beergate. Gammons whinged about woke Durham cops. Yep, just like Bristol!

Woken by mild leg cramp and loud talking outside, I rose drowsily Saturday. Making brekkie stressful in a cluttered kitchen even though I’d washed up Friday night, I wondered where the hell it all came from? Phil related a mildly racist joke (actually tweeted by Alistair Campbell in April): An Englishman, an American and an Indian walk into a bar. The barman says, ‘the usual Mr. Sunak?’ Putting recycling out, Welsh Art Friend was collecting the baby from young neighbours’ house for an outing. A recent operation explained her absence from Open Studios but she was recovering well. Other artists we’d expected to see all had covid apparently. We got lucky there after all the art events we’d attended recently! She offered to put fliers up to promote Phil’s IT services when we got round to doing them. A bit of a breeze made the warmth bearable enough to repeat my birthday walk during which we admired bright skies and blooms, ate pasties at the farm shop and gathered a few wimberries (see Cool Placesⁱⁱ).

Hardly any breeze, Sunday became hot. Suffering dodgy guts, I wondered was it caused by the beer? The cheap bacon tasty but 2 rashers short of a weekend, Phil said it sounded like I’d devised an expression. Not the first neologism we’d invented. The laptop proclaimed no internet. I waited ages to send birthday greetings to a cousin, edit photos and write a haiga. On the way back from the co-op, a couple of women on the street below who’d put water out for geese, were surrounded. “You’ll never get rid of them now!” I chuckled. Sitting on the garden bench, I saw a plate of mushrooms in front of the mini-greenhouse and asked The Woman Next Door on her step were they hers? “Yes.” “What are they doing there?” “Drying.” “Well, I need access and they’re not in the sun.” She moved them to her wall. The way clear, I checked the celery to discover munched leaves and placed shards round the stalks to put the slugs off. It didn’t. Phil brought ancient chilli seeds out to pot and helped clear up. A strange man laden with eggs and berries, visited The Woman Next Door. He’d parked in the middle of street but guided him into a space before they went out. “Who’s that?” asked Phil. “How the hell should I know?” Seeing him early the next day, I speculated it was a boyfriend. We ate lunch outside, dozed, and moved from shade to sun but still hot at 6, retreated indoors. Exhausted, I wrestled with sleep in the hot, bright night and got up to gaze at stars, minimise the light, then tossed and turned to the meditation soundtrack.

On Politics North, new Levelling Up minister Lia Nici repeated the misogynistic slur that Rayner opened her legs in The House, leading to a row with Naz Shah. Widely condemned, why hadn’t the presenter called Nasty Nici out on the spot? Anticipating summer travel chaos, Operation Brock restarted in Kent. After an interminable 2 weeks, Novax won the tennis.

Already sunny at 6.30 a.m. Monday, I opened the bathroom window to let a bug out and went back to bed. interrupted my writing for a counter-signature on his high street store contract. Assuring me scribing with the laptop touchpad was easy, my signature came out as a worse scrawl than usual! We had better luck using the ipad. I performed niggly chores, greeted Next Door and Strange Man and suppressed annoyance at a lack of help (Monday was often busy for Phil too). Assembling various materials to clean a kitchen chair outside, whatever I tried, the blotches kept re-appearing. Phil had a go during a break in google work but it looked worse than ever. I decided the posh paint had gone funny, found nothing suitable in the coal-hole, searched fruitlessly online for new, and said I’d try locally. Falling asleep outside during the longest heatwave for 50 years, I showered and rested on the bed. Although muggy, I slept well that night.

Scotrail drivers agreed on 5% but Aslef voted for summer strikes. A 24 hour Post Office strike with more predicted, bosses whinged they lost £1m a day due to bad relations. Migrants carried a dinghy across a French beach and 442 later arrived in Kent. Sick of criticism for providing a taxi service, the navy didn’t want to take the lead in dealing with channel crossings. A covid lockdown shut all casinos in the Chinese gambling enclave of Macau. The 1922 committee drew up leadership race rules. Candidates needed the backing of 20 MPs and there’d be a new PM by 5^th September. Steve Barclay, tory party favourite Ben Wally, Goblin Saj (amidst tax evasion allegations), Grant Shats and unheard-of Rehman Chisti, dropped out, leaving 8 in the race Tuesday: Rishi Rich (releasing slick video Friday), Trussed-Up Liz, Tom Tughat, Penny Mordar (who withdrew her video when Johnny Peacock objected to inclusion), Kemi Babadook (who wanted to abolish teaching assistants because proles didn’t need educating), Swellen (saying she’d cut taxes as there were too many able people on benefits), The C**t and Nads Zahawi (amid yet more scandal).

Overcast but still warm, writing was hard Tuesday. As head fug and achy eyes set in, I called a halt and went to town for errands and a boogie to radio 2 in the convenience store. Two women queuing in front of me also jigged, remarking we didn’t go out dancing anymore. Heading for what used to be the paint shop, I realised it was now an Asian food store. I thought the fresh air would be invigorating but possibly due to mugginess, my head drooped as I plodded home. Noisy all day, canal works finally packed in for 10 mins peace. I measured the crop pants, cut material off the legs and made PJ patches. Still fatigued, as the sun emerged early evening, we nipped outside for some vit. D and midge bites!

Every ambulance service on red alert, trusts declared a state of emergency due to covid admissions and the heatwave. Meanwhile, Queenie awarded the NHS the George Cross. May Parsons who administered the first covid jab, was among representatives from all 4 UK nations. Heathrow told airlines to ‘stop selling summer tickets’. Now lasting until 11^th September, no wonder we could never find cheap deals anymore. Mo Farah was praised for revealing he wasn’t a child refugee but a trafficked domestic slave. The home office graciously announced they’d take no action but would investigate. £1 now worth $1.19, the Euro fell to just below $1. The war was blamed. NASA showcased cosmic pictures by the James Webb space telescope. The next day, the Chinese said they’d detected a FRB** like a heartbeat, in space.

Wednesday, Phil had an appointment for someone to collect his Leeds studio fridge. I made him a bottle of pop to take and myself coffee and watched shenanigans. On Daily Politics, Tony Danker, CBI wanted less business tax and Heather WTF Whately came out with the same old rubbish: ’I love Rishi!’ Pandemonium at the start of PMQs, Lindsay Hoyle shouted: ‘shut up! order, order!’ Alba MPs Neale Hanvey and Kenny Macaskill were marched out of the chamber to murmurs of insurrection. Keir suggested a demob happy PM free of shackles, could say what he truly thought and forget about following the rules, so was it time to scrap non-dom status? Boris not changing his response, Keir went onto a ‘simpler question’ concerning offshore schemes letting people avoid tax. The Bumbler bizarrely responded any of the leadership candidates could wipe the floor with ‘captain crasherooney snoozefest‘. What was the clown on? Keir persisting on the tories benefiting from tax scams, Boris spouted lies about tax and benefits to a line of nodding dogs on the front bench wearing white and green Srebrenica flowers. Ian Blackford boringly made no jokes.

Warmth tempered by a breeze, I ate lunch outside, cleaned under the garden bench and chatted to a woman walking her elderly cat. Interminable beeping stopped just in time for a rest. Considering going outside again, Phil’s head loomed at the window. I opened the door and replenished the coffee. He followed me to the kitchen, doing my head in jabbering excitedly about his new mate and using the music studio for his photography. About to work on the journal, he asked for assistance making videos for a google work, set up a white screen, screwed his phone on a large tripod and taught me how to record. Quick when it worked, a faff when it didn’t, we called a halt for dinner.

Bereaved families called 200,000 covid deaths ‘a damning milestone’. Resolution Foundation found the richest 10% of Brits owned 29% of disposable income. Only Greece and Cyprus had worse economic deterioration. BOE told banks to double the buffer in case of hardship. Wetherspoons lost £30m – nowt to do with Brexit, eh Tim! The SCE monster was installed in an old lido on Weston beach as part of Unboxed. Formerly known as the Festival of Brexit, there was no mention of Brexit! An extreme weather warning extended to next Tuesday, the army set fire to Salisbury Plain, competing with French and Iberian wildfires. Official buildings and posh homes invaded, instead of resigning, the Sri Lankan president fled, appointed the PM acting president, declared a state of emergency, and a curfew in the western region encompassing Colombo. Protestors then overtook the PM’s compound as grim-faced police fired tear gas and water cannons. The gold walls of a politician interviewed on Newsnight looked pricey enough to cover the national debt. A French inquiry concluded Liverpool fans weren’t to blame for the Paris match debacle 28^th May.

In the co-op Thursday, a few extras brought me above budget but I got free redcurrants from the community garden wall and saw a ringed butterfly for the first time. Storing groceries, I noticed we were low on essentials which I should’ve bought instead of luxuries. Irked by another Windows update leading to lack of productiveness and being indoors on a sunny afternoon, I announced I was going to the park.

Descending the steps reminded Phil he’d seen geese ascend the previous evening. I thought they used the zebra crossing! Today, they were all on the church lawn. We walked along the blooming towpath, where even the island below the aqueduct was festooned. The park busy after school, we bought café ice creams and squatted on stools to munch and watch an entourage of kids pursuing cyclists dressed as sloths. AS they packed up, I discovered they were advertising for festival work. Taking a long route home, we stopped to admire a buddleia when an old art classmate walked by. She stopped to chat further up. Back home, we took coffee outside and Phil fixed pegs while I faffed with a rickety folding chair before extricating broken pots from overgrown ivy. Next Door But One put currants on Next Door’s folding table, explaining the mystery. The Woman Next Door told me about the new age therapy stuff she was studying and the value of ‘precious’ wimberries and came to look at a frog on the edge of the open compost bin. I called Phil to do a rescue but it disappeared in the ivy.

Hit the Ground

Having given up the night before, editing photos and blogging was thankfully faster Friday. As I prepared to clean the bathroom, Phil nabbed the hoover for the attic. Sick of tripping over photography gear, I offered to help sort the clutter but he insisted on doing some cleaning first. Dumping dead flowers in warm drizzle (did that count as rain on St Swithin’s?), the sun came out when I went back in.

1:18 infected, JCVI advised autumn boosters be offered to the clinically vulnerable, health & care workers and the over 50’s. About time! A TUC study revealed the UK had the worst ‘real wage squeeze’ of all G7 countries. Unite’s Sharon Graham said employers making huge profits must pay workers more. On the first televised tory leadership debate, Tom Tughat was the only one who agreed Boris wasn’t honest. The others evaded the question. Asked did they trust politicians, not one audience member raised a hand. Not from Bury market then! Accused of lying over self-ID by Babadook, Mordor got in a muddle. Only capable of working from script, she proved to be quite thick beneath the veneer, supporting Lord Frosty’s claim she was useless! A red ‘extreme heat’ weather warning prompted Downing Street to declare a national emergency for next week. Phil snorted: “this country is lame!”

He got to the kitchen after I’d broken my Saturday brekkie egg and commented cooking eggs was quick. Yeah, when someone else has done all the work! I thought. Warm sun tempered by a breeze, we went on a foraging walk before the dangerous red heat arrived. Popping in the co-op, we stalked the aisles for 3 for 2 snack food which had moved. My Mate at the kiosk said something derogatory about an old man who always wore cowboy gear. “Be nice!” I admonished and let him serve The Cowboy first before he whinged about the coming heatwave. “Are you working? It’s cool in here.” “Yes but it’s getting here.” We ascended fields to a lane lined with wimberry shrubs, picked, munched pastries and admired views before discovering an easier way down (See Cool Placesⁱⁱ). Recovering from the exertions, Phil complained he was too hot. “What do you expect?” I admonished, “You don’t drink water or wear a hat or shades.”

An effort to get going Sunday, I composed a haiga and improvised redcurrant relish. Phil sorted attic stuff. Allegedly still too cluttered for me to go up, I helped dispose of boxes. Cooler and cloudy to start, he reiterated the red heat warning was a load of pants but it became fiercely sunny in the afternoon. We ate lunch al fresco and stayed out a couple of hours, avoiding buzzing bees. An old art teacher came past with his dog. He’d semi-retired and passed on event co-ordination to The Printer, and admin to Welsh Art Friend. As he knew them both, it was definitely worth Phil sticking up fliers.

Boris accused of partying and going up in an RAF tornado instead of chairing cobra meetings, Rayner said he should step down now. The home office select committee found the Rwanda ploy no deterrent. Labour shortages predicted to cost the economy £30bn a year, there were calls to reset Brexit. How did that work? 2 billion vaccinated, covid cases rose in India to a 4-month high of 20,528. The second leadership debate on ITV an hour of in-fighting, the third due to air on Sky was cancelled when Rishi Rich and Trussed-Up declined to take part. 10 armed robbers raided the Apple store in Covent Garden.

After an unusually good night’s sleep, I donned minimal clothing Monday, did small chores, saved dumped items near the recycling and undrunk tea (very nice with ice and lemon on the very hot day), and posted the haiga. The co-op top-up cheap, My Mate was keeping cool but feared travelling home. Phil interrupted my afternoon writing by melodramatically declaring a sink blockage. Fizzing the crud of limited effect, a plunger worked marvellously. Still boiling after a cold shower, resting was impossible but it was comfortable enough to sit out by 7. I asked The Widower how he was faring. Okay so far, he dreaded grandchild’s grad ceremony in Manchester the next day.

ONS data showed when 9.4% inflation was taken into account, pay fell the fastest March-May since records began. Wages grew in the public sector by only 1.5% as opposed to 7.2% in the private sector. Public sector pay offers between 4 and 5%, and no extra cash for the NHS, doctors, dentists and cops would get the most. The labour motion rejected as it would’ve forced tories to state they had confidence in Boris to avoid a general election, the government won another, strangely brought by themselves. Boris accused Keir and ‘the deep state’ of plotting to reverse Brexit. What conspiracy site had he been on? Keir said the delusion was never-ending. On the 10^th day of temperatures above 40⁰C, forest fires surrounded a train in Zamora, Spain. The UK heatwave brought record highs to Wales, slower trains on buckled rails, car breakdowns, power cuts, grounded RAF jets at Brize Norton and planes at Luton due to a ‘heat incident’ (aka melting tarmac). The ‘common sense’ brigade on Jeremy Vine joined by Charlie Mullet from his Spanish villa, guffawed at TUC advice to work from home. Notts cop chief Caroline Henry was banned from driving. Vlod sacked 60 alleged spies from the Ukrainian security service and SBU.

25.9⁰C overnight on Emley Moor, Tuesday started hot. Glare making computer work hard, I climbed step ladders to tape a space blanket over the window. Ineffective, Phil’s reflector worked better. A sirocco-type wind hit me as I opened the door; so scorching I needed a hat to put washing out! It was bone-dry by early afternoon. Phil stood in the full-on heat then sat on the bench and played plinky holiday music on his phone while I squatted on the doorstep enjoying a breeze on my neck until sweating, I retreated indoors. Phil declared even the shade too hot and pinned up the crops for me to make shorts. As the sun disappeared, the temperature dropped a few degrees but still warm and oppressive, southern showers freakily evaporated before reaching the ground.

Unsurprisingly, records were smashed all over. 37⁰C here, Bramham recorded 40⁰C, Coningsby, Lincs. 40.3 and Aysgarth Falls ran dry. Wildfires sparked major incidents in Sheffield and London where the fire service had their busiest day since WW2 and combusted horse poo in a compost heap engulfed houses in Wennington. Felled overhead powerlines at Peterborough halted East Coast mainline trains. Shats admitted the network couldn’t cope. Temperatures in Spain down to 39⁰C, they reached 41 in France. Tughat was knocked out of the leadership race in the third round of voting and Babadook in the fourth. At his last cabinet meeting, Boris got a leaving gift of Winston Churchill war books and declared himself great. Keir called him a ‘bullshitter’.

Having coped with the mega heatwave, hot flushes and sweats woke me at 5 a.m. Wednesday. It took a while to shake off wooziness. Contrary to predictions, Boris turned up for the last PMQs before summer jollies. Confidence in politicians at an all-time low, Kim Leadbeater wanted to know what advice he’d give to his successor? Boris replied he’d use the next few weeks to drive forward the agenda of uniting and levelling up and that was why they’d win again. Staying on to party and holiday more like! Keir followed up with another question of trust to which Boris waved his arms like a loon and called labour pointless plastic bollards round roadworks, with no plans of their own while the tories were outlawing wildcat strikes. Eh? They were already illegal! After falsely bragging of the ‘fastest economic growth in the G7’, his parting words were ‘hasta la vista, baby’. Heaven forfend!

Extreme heat over but still warm, we went out for fresh air, unintentionally retraced the Crossings Workshop walk and caught a glimpse of the misfit mallard (See Cool Placesⁱⁱ).

A women’s health strategy intended to address a range of issues with no money. Shats advised Doncaster council took over Robin Hood airport from Peel Group like in Teesside. As EDF got the go-ahead to build Sizewell C, five Just Stop Oil protestors who climbed gantries on the M25 were arrested. Mordor dropped, 160,000 tory members would choose between Rishi and Trussed-Up Liz. 36% aged 50-64 and 39% over 65, a tribe of ageing gammons would decide our next PM. Trussed-Up said she’d ‘hit the ground’. If only!

Fine drizzle late evening made for a fresher start Thursday. Leaden skies presaged fine afternoon sprinkles. By 5 p.m., it was as dark as winter. I drafted blogs and headed to the co-op, spotting an old pub mate for the 3^rd time in 2 weeks and scored the free trolley. Fridge failures during the heatwave meant literally not a sausage in the reduced meat section. I weaved past geese pecking at the odd green shoot amid still-dry moss between cobbles on the street below. I could only discern the youngers by dark patches on burgeoning wings and a squeak rather than a squawk. Walking Friend came round as arranged. We perused the old maps we’d found on a street corner, discussed the heatwave and Phil offered to look at her maintenance issues next week. She proposed drinks at the community pub afterwards. When she spotted our wall clock still showed GMT, Phil decided to alter it. She took her leave and I apologised for being boring. “You’re not boring.” “Yes we are. Doing domestics!” Rest impossible with beeping machinery, revving engines and screeching kids, exhaustion, tummy ache and hot flushes made me thoroughly miserable by bedtime, leading to fitful sleep and hazy dreams.

Baroness Harlot promised lessons would be learnt to inform future pandemics, in a ‘fair and robust’ covid inquiry. Witnesses compelled to submit evidence from September, public hearings would start next spring. Did she want satirical qualitative data? Testing positive for covid, Uncle Joe was doing ‘well’ isolated in the White House and taking anti-viral Paxlovid. State borrowing at an all-time high and consumer Tory leadership contenders focused on the economy. Rishi concentrated on balancing the books but Trussed-Up promised a different path, saying he and previous chancellors didn’t deliver growth, even though she’d previously endorsed their policies. Examining her pledges against a backdrop of inflation, low growth and high taxes, IFS found reversing the NI rise, cancelling the planned corporation tax rise and a moratorium on the green energy levy would cost a total of £34bn; (£4bn above current budget targets). A report by chief inspector of borders and immigration David Neel, said the home office response to the surge in channel crossings was poor, 200 absconded within 4 months of arrival and vulnerable migrants were left at risk in processing centres. As the government published its critical minerals strategy and gave Pensana £850m from the automotive transformation fund, Kwasi Modo visited the Salt End rare earth plant in Hull. Netflix lost 970,000 subscribers April-June. Subs up, maybe they shouldn’t have made their most expensive film ever, The Grey Man, wherein Ryan Gosling globe-trots and wrecks Prague.

Pride Comes Before A Fall

After cold showers all week, we luxuriated in baths Friday. I blogged while Phil spent an age getting through to Vodaphone. It was worth the wait to get unlimited texts, calls and data, for less money. Head fug setting in, I abandoned writing for a spot of housework. Chilly and darkly grey, fine rain made the crows soggy and us chilly by early evening.

As it was revealed he paid himself via tax haven assets from his hedge fund, Rishi faced more questions over his finances. Meanwhile, Trussed-Up said being a Lib Dem and supporting remain was a mistake and leaving the EU had been a huge success. The start of the summer holidays, BA staff offered an 8% rise called off industrial action, an accident on the M20 led to 14-hour queues and The Port of Dover declared a ‘critical incident’. The French blamed for ‘woefully inadequately resourcing’ 100% checks leading to 4-hour waits to clear customs, they in turn blamed a glitch in the Eurotunnel. Authorities there said it had nowt to do with it. The benefits of Brexit, eh, Liz? An ‘emotional’ Antonio Guterres brokered a deal between Russia and Ukraine to alleviate the grain crisis. Hours later, Russian missiles hit Odesa. Ukraine vowed to get the grain out regardless. Gazprom re-started Nord Stream 2 gas deliveries, at 30% of previous levels.

Saturday morning, I wasn’t sure if vertigo was from moderate drinking, a manifestation of fatigue or illness. Both flaky, we stayed home watching Midsomer Murders as there was nowt else on telly. I took recycling out and shared health issues with Decorating Neighbour who sympathised with me. Better himself, he was back working which was good. I worked on the new shorts until my fingers became sore from sewing. After dinner, Phil ran to the shop for tonic, only finding lemonade to go with gin.

A rise of 7% rather than 30%, marked the start of a dip in the latest covid wave. On BBC Breakfast, Doctors Bauld and Smith told us 1/3 were reinfections. According to the WHO, subvariants BA.4 and 5 had been rising since June. Figures released later exposed 810 covid deaths the last week of July, the smallest increase since June. An Antipodean flu epidemic was unsurprising after their extended lockdowns.

Fine rain interspersed with sun Sunday, I searched for rainbows. Seeing none, I got knobbly veg and joked with a fellow punter my cabbage would be a good Midsomer Murder weapon: “You could eat the evidence! I watch far too much of them.” “I’m not judging!” chuckled the young server. Stopping to redistribute heavy bags on the way home, I risked being run over when an onion rolled behind a reversing car and saw a ‘we are open’ sign at the erstwhile grocers. Sure I heard voices, Phil went out early evening to be offered a sausage roll by crusty vegans. Opinions divided on the local Facebook page, some said the squat was earmarked as a café bar or ice cream parlour, and others that disturbed asbestos made it unsafe.

Queuing to enter the Eurotunnel, 600 lorries waited for up to 15 hours. A fire on Lenham Heath was visible from the M20. Bill Alexander bravely ploughed a firebreak in a fellow farmer’s spring barley crop to stop the flames getting any further. Trussed-Up and Rishi Rich (in Grantham) said the Rwanda ploy was a good idea. Both seeking to emulate Thatcher, albeit from different eras, Keir laughed at ‘Thatcherite Cosplay’.

Still wobbly Monday, I posted a haiga and blocked a heap of American military trolls stacked up in Facebook ‘friend requests’. Taking rubbish out, the trellis had collapsed again and fell to bits when I picked it up. I yelled for Phil to do a quick bodge. Carrying the lunch tray, I tripped and fell forward on the kitchen steps. Screaming, I managed to keep hold and avoid breakage. Phil asked if it was a flip-flop related incident. “It’s a first if it is.” Fuming he hadn’t asked if I was hurt, I said I hated Mondays. “Why?” “They’re shit! There’s always loads to do and then even more on top of that!” ”I don’t like them either.” “So why are you asking?” “Trying to be helpful.” “Well, its’ not!” I wiped a splotch off my jeans and rolled the leg up. Expecting a bruised knee, I found an angry graze which bled when cleaned it.

A health & social care committee workforce report said with over 99,000 vacancies in the NHS and 105,000 in social care, the government failed to plan or take decisive action. A rise in childhood hepatitis in 35 countries was linked to covid lockdowns as kids hadn’t built up immunity to 2 common viruses. OBR calculated Brexit cost the economy £50 billion so far. Still in denial, Brexiteers on Jeremy Vine claimed we already had to get passport stamps when we were in the EU. Not for France we didn’t! The C**t said it was revenge for mucking up plans of a united Europe. As Tory gammons called for Boris to be put on the ballot paper, the BBC staged a head-to-head debate in red wall Stoke. Rishi criticised Trussed-Up’s idea to delay tax rises by not paying off covid debts for 3 years, as it’d lose them the next election. Keir seemed to agree, calling Trussed-Up the latest graduate from the school of ‘magic money tree economics’ and pledged a new Industrial Strategy Council to bring economic growth, proving he was just as much a global capitalist as the rest of the wankers. Confusion over whether this meant they’d ditch nationalisation, shadow ministers Rachel Reeves and Sam Tarry waded in. Keir later confirmed rail would become public as contracts ran out, but not utilities, as that meant paying compensation, according to We Own It. If you thought it was bad the Blackpool illumination red Indian display was only just junked, an arcade game allowed players to sit on a horse and shoot them. Calling it a ‘legacy piece’, it was removed from Weston’s Grand Pier after Emily Crossing complained. Eurovision 2023 would be staged in the UK. Quite right, seeing as we should’ve won!

Feeling thoroughly crap and tearful Tuesday, Phil commiserated and agreed HRT might be a good idea. Menopause symptoms compounded by money worries, it was hard to concentrate and after snapping at him over a daft niggle, I admitted the anger was really about the dire financial situation. After some harsh words, we managed to calm down to share thoughts and feelings, discuss options, laugh and hug. Seeing a payment from BG on a bank statement, I checked the energy account to find the small amount was for leccy and DD was slightly reduced, but gas payments were set to treble! I called and spoke to a barely intelligible man, eventually getting it down to double. The GP surgery only taking emergency calls in the morning, I rang after lunch and was offered an appointment next week 4 miles away. I didn’t even know the place! An ‘embargo’ on local appointments, I asked what did I need to do to get one? Phone at 8 and ‘pretend’ it’s urgent! Thinking intense night-time itching was an insect bite, the discomfort extended to other areas which felt hot even though I couldn’t see anything.

The driest summer since 1976 and the driest July since 1836 in the South East, the National Drought Group met urgently and asked customers to use less water to avoid restrictions. Another head-to-head leaders’ debate on Talk TV was halted when host Kate McCann feinted; or fell into a coma at the sheer inanity of Truss and Rishi! He later hinted at a U-turn on energy VAT. IMF growth forecasts were downgraded to 2.9% globally, 1.2% for the Eurozone, 1% in the USA and .5% in the UK because of gas prices and ‘lack of investment in skills and infrastructure’. Only Russia worse, so much for Boris’ hubris! As Italy planned to spend an extra £12bn shielding consumers from energy costs, the EU rationed gas.

Hearing a moth waking early Wednesday, I saw no sign of it. Itchiness persisting, Phil said that was why he never lied about medical urgency in case it came true! I fetched brekkie and rang the GPs. 19^th in the queue, I eventually spoke to a receptionist. About to book me the last slot at the local surgery, he exclaimed: “Oh, it’s just gone!” and arranged an advice call. The duty doctor agreed the symptoms may be menopausal but advised blood tests to rule out anything else before considering HRT. Which of course meant ringing back after 2. Being told to use antihistamines and cream, I took a pill, applied E45 (of limited help) and caught up on housework. I helped Phil design a flier for his artist’s services. “I enjoyed that,” I said. “What?” “Working together on something. Far more constructive than arguing.” “True.” Walking Friend not replying to a text, I called her to hear strange noises. About to go up regardless, my mobile rang but there was nothing at the other end. She then phoned from her landline. Informed she’d have no internet all day, that evidently meant no service at all. At her house, me and her chatted while Phil sorted maintenance issues. She asked if we wanted to go for beer. Too weary for the pub, instead, we drank freshly-ground espresso and arranged tea at ours followed by a pint Sunday. Bedtime reading was disturbed by noisy drunkards and a large moth fluttering on the lamp. The pesky blighter must’ve been there all day!

Spending not tracked and only 2% of international arrivals quarantined having covid, The PAC found it was impossible to know if the traffic lights system was worth £486m of taxpayers’ money. They also reported that £777m covid testing contracts awarded to Randox didn’t follow basic procedures and officials did nothing to address potential conflicts of interest even though they knew Owen Pattycake had direct contact with The Cock. Randox called their conclusions ‘deeply flawed and wrong’. Joining RMT pickets in the latest rail strikes, shadow transport minister Sam Tarry was sacked. Keir claimed it was over unauthorised media appearances. Owen Jones spluttered he’d had enough of Waitrose Boy Keir and John McDonnell said it was time for co-ordinated action (aka a national strike). People incensed at Maccy D price rises, I thought they were far too cheap anyway and we had bigger things to worry about, such as the practice of deducting money from UC payments to pay off debts which the Joseph Rowntree Foundation wanted scrapped.

Knackered and sweaty from cleaning the bedroom Thursday, I was forced to go to the co-op to replenish basics, where the usual foray proved even more stressful and time-consuming as they’d shifted stock and hid gaps with beer and cola – let them drink boke! The freezer deal costing more than expected, on the way out, I realised it was now 6 items for a fiver. Only 5 in the cabinet, I returned to the till and was told with carte d’or sold out, I was meant to have 2 Vienetta. “I’ll take it!” A palaver ensued of scanning for a refund, then again with the 6 items. Having seen the window cleaners’ van, I thought ours weren’t due but on slogging home, the house front was dripping. Phil said they insisted it was our turn. I raged at the inconvenience and he said I was hangry.

We ate a hasty lunch, then Walking Friend rang to say she had a problem Sunday. “Oh. I’ve just bought the stuff.” “I can still come for tea, but not the pub.” {What a shame – not!} “Come eat Vienetta!” After lodging a complaint to the co-op about shifting stock and amending it for a ‘Tales’ blogⁱⁱⁱ, I railed at lack of productiveness and looked for a late summer holiday let, eventually finding a bargain. Paying a low deposit, they cheekily took the balance the next day. Trying to rest, it dawned on me the window cleaners were right. Aware it was daft, I couldn’t stop fretting and sent them a straight-forward apology via Facebook. Their reply shirty, I reiterated it was a genuine mistake on our part and added a smiley face. Very itchy at bedtime, I researched DIY treatments and tried intensive hand cream containing glycerine which worked immediately. I later discovered sensitive bodywash helped too.

2 separate scientific studies found ‘compelling evidence’ 2 coronavirus variants originated at the Wuhan fish market late 2019. With 4 asymptomatic cases, Jiangxi district re-entered lockdown. Announcing £5.1bn quarterly revenue on the eve of a 2-day strike, CWU accused BT of ‘gaslighting’. Of 74,230 households homeless or at risk, 10,560 worked fulltime. Shelter’s Polly Neate said record-high rents and crippling bills sent people working every hour, ‘over the edge’. She called on the new PM to ‘get a grip,’ unfreeze housing benefit and build decent social homes with rents pegged to local incomes, to end homelessness for good. Maybe they could live in the Saudi Line – the vertical city to house 9 million resembled a dystopian sci-fi.

Sleep disrupted by anxiety and discomfort, I was on the verge of tears Friday. Sure the itchiness was menopausal, Phil said I should’ve had HRT years ago. “Look who’s talking, Captain Hindsight!“ I added graphics to Phil’s flier and printed a draft. Puzzled by sizing issues, we gave up and went to town, finding cough drops had gone up again, as had sweet bags. Sweet Shop Man explained the bags were bigger to fit labels on, for which the printer cost a staggering 3 grand. Phil loitered while I stood in a slow Boots queue. 2 crusties (perhaps from the squat) mocked middle-class vegans (look who’s talking!) The cashier served 1 customer and handed over change at snail’s pace. I abandoned my items and stormed out. “Surprised you lasted that long!” Laughed Phil. Sitting riverside, we discussed posters on the old grocers inciting the squatting of Air BnB’s. Town awash with 200, was it practical? Were they businesses or residential? Back home, we solved the flier misprint by converting the file format. Flitting between laptop and printer, the pocket of my combats ripped when it caught on the sofa arm. Just as I’d finished a pile of stitching!

ONS estimated 1:20 people had coronavirus in the week up to 20 July, compared to 1:17 the week before. Hospital admissions decreased from 18.2 per 100,000 to 16.3. Centrica profits 1.3bn, Shell £11.5bn and BP £6.9bn, details of fuel bill rebates revealed we’d get £66 off direct debits October and November, then £67 until March. Martin Lewis said the zombie government should do more and the rich bragged about the size of their bills. AQA began strike action, potentially affecting the release of exam results.

Saturday greyly mizzly, we predicted soggy dressing up at Pride Party in the Park. Otherwise, we’d have gone to see the Kate Bush tribute. Instead, I cleared piles of clutter in the kitchen and stitched the combats.

Sleep interrupted by raucous drunks at 3 a.m. Sunday, I stuck earplugs in, rose flushed and crampy, fetched tea and noted chilli plants on the kitchen windowsill needed thinning out. Looking for space to put them, I saw paper peeling from the living room ceiling and chunks of plaster on the sofa. I yelled up to Phil who cleared the plaster lumps, googled DIY fixes, ruminated over supplies and made the ceiling safe until he could get to a trad hardware shop in the next village . I moved furniture so we could sit on the sofa, washed and air-dried a stinky throw and picked crocosmia for a kitchen vase before a trip to the co-op. The normal scant affair, I searched for wines to use a member discount. Seeing none, I got cheap plonk. I swept up dust, showered and changed and reinstalled the throw, enjoying the late sun’s warmth before a lovely evening with Walking Friend during which we ate, drank and exhausted our 1970’s CD music collection.

Resignation honours a list of donors, JCB tory donor Lord Bamford hosted a belated wedding party for Boris and Carrie. Steve Bray stood outside Daylesford House with a banner reading: ‘corrupt tory government’. Dreadful Doris was lambasted for re-tweeting a pic of Rishi stabbing Boris in the back.

It was revealed the Prince of Wales charitable trust accepted donations from the Bin Laden family, leading to more questions. Giving no details of how they’d violated conditions of purchase, Gazprom suspended Latvia’s gas supply. England beat Germany 2-1 in the Women’s Euro Final. Winland academy advertised jobs on LinkedIn to write applications for Chinese students. A shame they were caught; I could do that!

Thanks for reading Corvus Diaries. Updates will follow later in the year.

Hasta La Vista!

*The Liquidator, Harry J Allstars

**Frequent Radio Burst

References:

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

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

iii. 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 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

The wee hours of 1^st 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.

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 21^st 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

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.

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

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 19^th 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 3^rd 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

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.

On the 2^nd 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 101 – End of An Era?

“Under the Tories, a sewer of dirty Russian money has been allowed to flow under London for years.” (Ian Blackford)

Open and Shut

The howling wind waking me repeatedly in the early hours Monday, I dropped off again until late. After brekkie, I expunged a nasty lump of debris festooning the hearth, did small chores and sparked the laptop up only for the dam thing to shut down! I fumed at the delay until I could post blogs; the journal took until afternoon. Phil offered to dispose of rubbish but as he groaned at a wind-felled trellis, I went to help and retrieved the bin lid from the bottom of the steps before going to the co-op. At the kiosk, I waited impatiently for an elderly woman to pack her bag. My mate laughed when I threw my stuff back in the wheeled basket. I said it was much easier to sort afterwards and allowed someone else access to the till. Was that a bit passive-aggressive? Exhausted by a whirlwind of tasks, I flopped on the sofa then on the bed.

Off last week due to hilariously falling off his penny farthing, Jeremy Vine still sported a black eye. Marina Purkiss argued with James Gammon over Brexit and orders to return to offices saying it only profited property magnates. And coffee shops! The queen had covid. Suffering ‘minor cold symptoms’, she isolated at Windsor and continued ‘light duties’. Undeterred by the news, Boris told MPs it was time to ‘live with covid’ and treat it like ‘flu. Mandated self-isolation of the infected would end Thursday in England along with payments, obligations to tell employers, and contact-tracing. Changes to SSP and ESA would end 24^th March. Mass free testing to be scaled back from 1^st April, except for the vulnerable, they’d also get another booster in spring. Referring to a funding disagreement between The Goblin and Rishi Rich leading to a delayed cabinet meeting, Keir lambasted ‘more chaos and disarray’: “he thinks living with covid means ignoring it…If you’re 2-1 up with 10 minutes to go, you don’t sub off one of your best defenders.” Ian Blackford railed it was ‘bereft of science’. On Boris asking people to exercise personal responsibility and still isolate for 5 days, Wes Streeting chuckled: “give me a break!” Witless and Vallance used a press conference to warn coronavirus wasn’t over but Boris denied a division. Linda Bauld said while hospitalisations and deaths were down, community infection remained high, so it wasn’t: ‘a free ticket to not worry at all’. On Newsnight, Prof. Openshaw counselled ‘don’t throw your mask away’ and agreed with Witless on caution, saying infection surveys were vital early warning systems of new variants which might be more dangerous.

In the wake of Storm Franklin, floodwater inundated Tadcaster streets and Doncaster rail station, destroyed defences under construction on the River Aire and cracked a bridge in Boston Spa meaning a 7 mile trip to get across town. Most providers advising against travel, all Northern trains were suspended. Saying last week names couldn’t be released, PCs Jonathan Cobban and William Neville and ex-cop Joel Borders were unveiled as the 3 Met staff who’d shared nasty WhatsApp chat with Wayne Couzens.

Opening the curtains Tuesday, the pole promptly fell on my head. Yelling in shock, I sat down with water until a hot flush passed. Trains still a mess and 80 flood warnings in place, I postponed a planned trip to Manchester, sent a submission to Valley Lifeⁱ, and posted the date 22.02.22. on Facebook. Walking Friend added 22.02.2022. How did I miss the palindrome? Resuming the kitchen spring clean, I discovered a pile of jars clarted in cobwebs and freaked out when a spider skin fell on my hand. Unable to rest on the bed as Phil fixed the curtain pole, I relaxed on the sofa with a book when he declared he was going on a quest for marge. “Okay, but leave me in peace!” I lay down for breathing exercises. He apologised for interrupting m again on his return but I’d given up by then. Though sunny during a changeable day, it was too cold to properly relax. And I appreciated that he’d rang his Leeds mate while out so her dulcet tones didn’t disturb me further! As he’d taken both bedroom curtains down, I put them in the wash and used the spares.

The backlash against the ‘living with covid’ plan continued. Schools predicted more cases and further classroom disruption, devolved administrations lambasted the end of financial support, and the BMA complained of failure ‘to protect those at highest risk’. Drugs lauded as the future for tackling outbreaks, Adam Finn thought annual jabs alongside flu likely. Calling ending routine testing in England ‘inexcusable negligence’, Sturgeon announced it would stay in Scotland – albeit scaled down. The Scottish covid pass would be scrapped 28^th Feb. followed by other measures 21^st March.

Lethargic on Wednesday, I slowly opened curtains to a watery sun. Phil made porridge to take off the morning’s chill. After cleaning a bitty living room, I saw the laptop had updated and shutdown overnight and waited impatiently to be able to type. I set the DVR to record PMQs and went out, just as the weather turned showery. Spotting Welsh Friends’ step-daughter pushing a pram, I introduced myself at long last to be acquainted with the baby. Greeting her partner on the next street down, I was unsure if he recognised me. At the far end of town, I got nowt in the crap Boots. Signs unsurprisingly revealed a shutdown. More luck in the charity shops, I spent ages rifling through a box of old postcards. Lunchtime by then, I hurried along the riverside to the other Boots which also looked about to close due to a lack of stock during reorganisation. Having propped up the felled trellis on the way out and on the way back, I became exacerbated. The woman next door sympathised. Trying to affix it later, Phil gave up in the stiff wind.

The recording of PMQs shocking quality, at least I could fast-forward boring bits. Focussed on sanctions against Russia, Keir asked why Boris didn’t immediately impose the full package, seeing as there’d already been an invasion. The Bumbler responded it was vital that after the first barrage, they worked in lockstep with allies to squeeze Vlad, sanctions would be escalated, and he was grateful for the opposition’s support thus far. On defeating the campaign of lies and misinformation, he said Dreadful Doris had asked Ofcom to review RT licences but the decision was up to them. Sturgeon led calls for Alex Salmon to quit his show on the Russian channel. As Boris reverted to incomprehensible gibberish, Keir pointed out political donations were allowed from anywhere to which Boris wittered about labour links to the Chinese communist party. Refusing to be deflected, Keir insisted they stood united and not provide ‘homes for their loot’. Ian Blackford added ‘a sewer of dirty Russian money’ flowed under London. $20.8 billion amounted to corruption on an industrial scale, oligarchs with golden handshakes were welcomed and dosh had ‘found its way into tory coffers’. A block to stronger sanctions, he asked Boris if he’d finally commit to giving it up? Caroline Lucas put in that as foreign sec, Boris didn’t deny Russian interference in elections and asked why he turned a blind eye to disruption allegations? Margaret Hodge called the sanctions response a mess. Adamant they’d impact the entire regime, Boris said there’d be a major move to stop their dollars coming into London. On other issues, Bradford MP Imran Hussain’s question on promoting an alleged perpetrator of Islamophobia was ruled inappropriate, Ian Byrne got the party line on tackling food poverty, and queries on support for Liberty Steel, private carers and the vulnerable amid the lifting of covid restrictions, were answered with drivelling platitudes. Asked on Daily Politics if 14 labour MPs who thought NATO the aggressor should be expelled, Luke Pollard replied they were ‘a broad church’ but committed to NATO.

Ignoring feeble knocks during siesta time, Phil answered to accept a parcel for next door. I lay awhile with my eyes shut, stitched a hole in the bedspread, and fumed at unwashed pots. Apparently distracted by putting tools away, Phil struggled to say what he meant. “Mixing your words and your tasks! There’s no hope!” I laughed.

£6.1 billion public debt interest in January, the PAC report revealed poor record-keeping and lack of transparency led to £15 billion lost in covid error and fraud. In a rare fit of praise later in the week, they called the vaccine roll-out a ‘real success’ and NAO said the £5.6 billion was ‘money well spent.’ In response to a letter from MET deputy commissioner Stephen House, the London mayor’s office denied lack of due process in getting rid of Dick. Flooding still affected areas of Worcestershire and Shropshire near the River Severn. With Ironbridge underwater, households evacuated and levels peaking in Bewdley, communities were urged to stay vigilant and there were clamours for permanent solutions. As Russia celebrated Day of the Fatherland in Rostov on Don (down the road from Sheffield!) Ukraine got more weapons and protections against cyber-attacks were stepped up. Ben Wally saying he’d gone ‘full Tonto’, Vlad stuck to his guns, telling Kyiv the only way out was to demilitarise and abandon their NATO ambitions.

A Call to Arms

Thursday, Phil changed the bedding while I bathed. He then lay abed with cushions and blankets askew. Irked, I chased him off. Putting sheets in the machine, I searched for a butterfly back from an earring that fell out in the bath and found a hairgrip. More fits ensued at stuff dangerously stacked in cupboards and the coal-hole. Ocado carrier bags trapped beneath the Christmas tree stand, freeing them was hampered by an ancient bulb taking several minutes to light up. We awaited the Ocado delivery and looked at changing weather through the window. There was a lot of it! Hail overnight, we got sleet, then sun, more hail and squally mixed hail/sleet showers. Renewed yellow warnings of wind, snow and lightning for Scotland and Northern Ireland, there was no thundersnow and reports disagreed on if it was Storm Gladys. I reviewed the proof from Valley Life and worked on the journal. The bedroom curtains the wrong way round, lack of overlap left a gap in the middle. Phil helped remedy the issue and affixed the decorative knob. Finishing the hoovering after lunch, I kept finding more dross, got tired, and rested. Cooking dinner, the oven door handle door came loose. Fed up with things going wrong in the stupid weather, we left more DIY for another day.

An Ipsos poll found people divided on whether it was the right time to relax restrictions but 61% didn’t support the decision to end free testing. Home Office figures showed a record 28,526 people crossed the English Channel in dinghies during 2021. Still ill with covid, the queen postponed virtual audiences. Would she make it to her jubilee party? Meanwhile, Prince Willy secretly visited MI6. Hours later, Vlad released a rambling pre-recorded statement. Claiming he aimed to stop the genocide of innocent people by Nazis, he sent troops over Ukrainian borders at 3.00 a.m. local time. As airbases were attacked, Ukraine said they shot 5 planes down, enlisted reservists into the regular army, and declared martial law encouraging citizens to take up arms and make Molotov cocktails. Sirens blasting, an exodus of Kyiv began. Woken in the night, Boris spoke to Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky, convened cobra and addressed the nation, saying they’d agreed a ‘massive package’ of sanctions with allies to ‘hobble the Russian economy’. No embargo yet on gas or Swift, money still flowed into Kremlin coffers. UN security council pleas to stop the aggression fell on deaf ears. No wonder seeing as it was chaired by a Ruskie. After summits involving the UK, US , EU and G7, Boris made a statement to the commons, uncommonly united in condemning the imperialist. RAF typhoons patrolled Polish and Romanian borders, Grant Shats instructed CAA to ensure airlines avoided Ukraine airspace, Aeroflot UK landings were banned, stock markets fell and oil prices rocketed. Vlad insisted they only targeted military assets but explosions were heard in Kyiv, Odesa and Kharkiv, where an apartment block was bombed and they took Chernobyl causing much alarm. Russian opponents of the aggression bravely held demos, 1,7000 were arrested and 150 officials wrote an open letter condemning the ‘atrocity’. Extensive coverage of the now real invasion made me depressed and fretful, leading to mediocre sleep.

The Darkest Hour

Clumpy noises annoyingly roused me Friday morning, created by a fat truck with flashing yellow lights crawling up the hillside. Making use of the forced early start, I took a rare trip to the co-op before coffee. Lovely and sunny out after the mixed weather, I greeted the Turkish barber cleaning his windows and wished I could get out before noon more often. Shopping Incident-free, bacon shelves were still bare. Coming back, I heard young mum in the community garden ask the toddler if he wanted to take something to the new house. “Have you got a new house?” Providing details she added: “Moving’s a nightmare with a toddler.” “I bet. He’ll be into everything now!” I sorted groceries, collapsed on the sofa with coffee, discussed nasty Russians with Phil and got scared at the very idea of going for a drink in case they put Novichok in my beer.

After a hasty lunch, I headed to town, dumped a bag of crap at the animal charity shop and ripped the box reaching up for cough drops in the sweet shop. He contritely said he should move it lower down. “As long as you don’t charge me for damage.” “Good idea!” he quipped. Trying both butchers, the first was temporarily shut and the second had no bacon. I whizzed round the flea market to banter and barter with dealers then returned to the first butchers for the elusive bacon. He teased he’d been stockpiling it. An awful pirate busker in the square, I retreated to the bridge for some quiet but it was insanely busy with traffic and pedestrians. I met The Researcher as arranged and suggested the town hall. A dementia and covid project display by a rival university provided food for thought and an interesting take on dark times. She kindly bought us coffee and cake In the café where I grabbed a scarce table. The terrace unusable due to the crappiest ice rink in the world, signs declared it open from 23^rd but they were still setting up! We discussed ideas for showcasing her project, further contributions to her blog and my plans to pause Corvus Diaries. War dominating the news, she was terrified and said it was the third day in her life she’d watched TV all day. The other two being the death of Diana and 9/11, I felt old! For our generation, it evoked the constant fear of nuclear war but I believed there was some hope: it might be the end of Vlad, ordinary Russians opposed invading their neighbours and mutiny was possible. Sharing personal stuff, we discovered a similar age gap between our parents and mutual publishing ambitions. Chairs being put atop tables signified closing time. A member of staff brought a doggy bag so I could take home the uneaten half of the gigantic cake slice. “That’s the first time I’ve been chucked out of the town hall!” We browsed the free library and laughed over West Country accents and a broken door before saying our goodbyes.

In plans for HE, DoE lowered the student loans threshold and extended the payment period so it’d be 40 years until debts were written off and graduates would pay more, for longer. A consultation on admission thresholds proposed minimum English & maths grades to access loans which government said would stop students enrolling on poor courses while critics said it disproportionately affected poor kids. Believing HE students should have a decent level of literacy, I wondered at the timing after effectively 2 years of on-off schooling during the pandemic.

Fierce fighting across Ukraine, Russian ‘operatives’ were in Kyiv by dawn and tanks in the northern suburb of Obolon. While NATO presence beefed up in Eastern Europe, EC foreign policy chief Josep Borrell intoned it was the darkest hour since WW2, the US and EU imposed more sanctions but still prevaricated over the toughest ones. Was it time for the iron curtain to be redrawn? Urging the Ukrainian military to surrender, Vlad said “we would find it easier to agree with you than with that gang of drug addicts and neo-Nazis who have holed up in Kyiv.” Jewish ex-comic turned president Vlod angrily dismissed the claims, said he was top of the Russian hit list and offered to negotiate on NATO ambitions. Serge said it was too late for that. A woman gave a Russian soldier sunflower seeds to put in his pocket so blooms would grow when he fell dead on her homeland soil, and crowds descended on rail stations aiming for Poland and Rumania. UEFA moved the champion’s league final from St. Petersburg to Paris and F1 cancelled the Sochi Grand Prix.

Metro featured an ace photo of a WW2 mural discovered renovating a house in Bispham. I suggested Phil ask to see it during an upcoming trip (see above).

Getting pizza from the freezer for dinner, I realised I’d disposed of cooking instructions. Phil said he’d come up with a mnemonic to remember timings but had forgotten it! Drinking too much wine, I blamed the added stress of war in our time. Phil interrupting film-viewing with rhetorical advice for Uncle Joe didn’t help!

After a crap night, Shed Boy noisily lobbed a van-load of trash in a skip early Saturday. I gave up trying to lie in and switched the telly on to discover Kyiv under attack from airstrikes, heavy gunfire and rockets. Reports of higher than expected Russian casualties, Ukrainian equipment was badly hit. 20,000 refugees arrived in Poland. Remaining citizens holed up in deep underground stations during the 13-hour curfew. Speaking from uninvaded streets, plucky Vlod scotched rumours of surrender. Demos took place across the UK. All very depressing, I avoided news for the rest of the day.

Making brekkie, my eyes went funny. Struggling to discern numbers on the kettle and microwave, my vision soon adjusted. Another symptom of excess, Phil explained wine over-relaxed the cells and recommended eye exercise. We discussed how unlike his condition, mine was temporary but it made me empathise and appreciate how quickly our brains adapted to make sense of the world. The SD card being arsy, I rescued a few photos and re-formatted it, worked on the journal, and pottered. Phil cut and dyed my hair. Really cold in the South Pole, I got scared of hypothermia. He also fixed the oven door, cleaned the bathroom and went to the shop, finding the twilight streets littered with drunks, just like the old days! Evening viewing included the third Oscar-nominated Netflix film so far this year. Phil often inventing modern operas, I said he should be inspired by Tick, Tick, Boom: “You literally CAN write a song about anything!”

Waking early Sunday with familiar symptoms, I sucked a pastille, slept fitfully ‘til 9, took Echinacea, wobbled down for a cuppa and got riled at a messy kitchen. Sulking on the bed, I told Phil I wasn’t well. “Is it the beer?” “1½ pints? Don’t be daft. It’s the usual sinus lark, probably due to sitting in a freezing kitchen with wet hair.” After his cooked brekkie, I considered going back to bed but stayed in the living room. Very sunny and warm despite early frost, I’d hoped to go for a walk. Obviously not up to it, I was fed up being ill again. I worked on the journal, finished a secret card and wrote a haigaⁱⁱ based on a photo from the previous weekend. Phil repaired a camera and went to the shop for more veg to accompany his austerity roast. Helping with prep, it took 40 minutes to peel and cube a bargainous butternut squash. It felt like a workout! I slumped back on the sofa and left him to it, getting impatient when it wasn’t ready at the appointed time. Finding the gravy tasteless, he insisted he’d used tons of mustard. I railed at undercooked parsnips then realised it was because of overfilling the oven with squash.

On Sunday Morning, ambassador to the UK Vadym Prystaiko talked of an international legion of fighters, and likened the invasion to 1918 when unable to take Kyiv, Bolsheviks took the second city Kharkiv, declared it the new capital then moved on Kyiv. Unconvinced the ‘special operation’ only took place in Donbas, 60% of Russians polled, opposed it and mums worried for their young conscript sons, forced to sign contracts so they could fight. With global protests, 4,000 Russians were reportedly detained for partaking and 1 million signed an anti-war petition. During the weekend curfew, Ex-boxing Kyiv mayor Vitali Klitschko said anyone outside was a saboteur. BP exited Rosneft while the EU shipped more weapons to The Ukraine, eased asylum processes, totally banned Russian planes from their airspace and froze them out of money markets. Unable to access overseas reserves, the rouble fell by 1/3^rd, leading to bank runs, and an interest rate hike to stop the currency collapsing. Cyber-attacks hit Ukrainian embassies and Russian media. Trussed-up Liz said the economic crime bill would stop the money flow into the UK and stupidly, that those heeding the call to arms had her support. Illegal (when it suited them), Ben Wally later contradicted her. A sombre day for football, Abramovich stepped back from Chelsea and Bielsa was sacked, ending an era at Leeds United.

Head drooping, I was determined to prevent debilitation, took a loaded hot lemon drink to bed and quaffed cough mixture. Drifting off, I thought I was asleep but I’d lain in a stupor, uncertain if it was for minutes or hours. Fever breaking, I fell in and out of consciousness during a weird night. Did I have too many drugs?

Only marginally better Monday, Phil added cinnamon to the porridge. I couldn’t taste it but the soft consistency eased my throat. After bathing, I prevaricated about staying abed, decided to go downstairs, got annoyed at an overfull draining board and retreated to the sofa to post the haiga and work on the journal. In the afternoon, I gathered recycling which Phil took out in the nasty rain, even though he was falling asleep, did some secret stuff and had a siesta. I didn’t rest but finished a book. Leftover roast for dinner, I put the anaemic veg back in the oven and he added more mustard to the gravy which I could actually taste. I took this as a sign of improvement but to be safe, I went up early with hot lemon, and fell asleep quickly for a blessedly decent night.

As ex-boxer Vitali ended the Kyiv curfew, besieged citizens queued for food. 500,000 Ukrainians fled and Nasty Patel caused confusion over visas and leave to remain for relatives of UK settlers. Russian tanks approached from the north, east and south towards Mariupol. Cluster bombs allegedly used on Kharkiv, the UN decried war crimes. Vlad sent his culture adviser to negotiate with the Ukrainian defence minister in an old palace in Gomel on the Belarus border, predictably achieving nothing. Belarus forces set to join the fighting, veteran Stepanovych urged mutiny. Russia was banned from international football and FIFA cut ties with Gazprom, as did petrol giant Shell along with links to Nord Stream 2. Escalating the conflict, a beleaguered Vlad linked increased sanctions to his decision to put nuclear forces on high alert, citing ‘aggressive statements’ by NATO. Wally dismissed the threat as ‘battle rhetoric’. Commentators suggested 2 years in a bunker with long-covid, brain fog and paranoia, turned Vlad mad. Others thought that was what he wanted us to think. When would people learn? Megalomaniacs always ended up with hubris syndrome!

On the pandemic front, Omicron ‘lost its grip’, carpark Nightingale facilities were dismantled and more trains ran but would cost more from 1^st March. Masks no longer mandatory in many indoor Welsh spaces, they remained mandatory for public transport, retail and healthcare settings. The next review was due 4^th March. Spy tech getting ‘out of control’ during lockdowns, the TUC wanted the employment bill to ensure union consultation and worker protection from intrusive AI. Reported rapes and sexual assaults up significantly since Sarah Everard’s murder, the ONS thought it was due to increased publicity and easing of restrictions but the number of girls hiding ‘deep distress’ rose.

Coronavirus taking a back seat with bigger things going on in the world, Corvus Diaries was turning into The War Diaries. I decided to take a break.

Thanks for reading. I’ll be back!

Part 85 – Things That Go Bump In The Night

“Working people are being asked to pay more for less, for three simple reasons: economic mismanagement, an unfair tax system and wasteful spending” (Rachel Reeves)

A Bumpy Ride

Still tired and achy Monday, Phil helped with chores and manically cut his hair while I posted blogs. Attempting to get errands done, I went to the co-op to find it shut due to a power-cut. Staff guarding the door told me it was the second outage that day. Despite tummy ache, Phil went to town in the evening for supplies. Anxious about next day’s appointment, I took a pill to aid sleep.

As expected, kids on half-term could get jabbed at centres. Stephen Powis advised working from home but on Jeremy Vine, Charlie Mullet said it was bad parenting akin to being a benefits cheat. Prof Openshaw found 1:55 infected unacceptable and “connected with the lack of clear messaging about sensible measures (we could take)…to reduce (spread).” Warwick University reported 11% of covid clusters last summer were caused by ‘eat out to help out’. No comment from Rishi Rich, premature budget details presaged national wage rises and an end to the public sector pay freeze. Unhappy at the leaks, Lindsay Hoyle scolded: “At one time, ministers did the right thing if they briefed before budget – they walked.” He accused them of treating MPs discourteously: “This house will not be taken for granted. It’s not right for everybody to be briefed, it’s not more important to go on the news in the morning, it’s more important to come here.” WMO* warned CO2 levels rose at a faster rate in 2020, the pandemic made little impact and there was ‘no time to lose’. Petteri Taalas called the upward trend ‘way off track’. As too was Boris as he told children recycling plastic was a waste of time and he didn’t think COP26 would achieve anything. Number 10 hastily issued a correction. Extinction Rebellion blocked the City of London, the Met cleared it by midday and arrested 53. In the fifth week of the volcanic eruption, a giant lava fountain spewed from Cumbre Vieja.

Tuesday afternoon we caught a cross-country bus for my appointment. Distrustful of the handwritten update to the out-of-date Tuesday afternoon we caught a cross-country bus for the dreaded appointment. Distrustful of the handwritten update to the out-of-date timetable, Phil worried it was the wrong stop and wandered off to the main one. I gave chased shouting: “it can’t possibly be that one! I checked google 3 times!” We distracted ourselves from the stress by admiring willow curlews made by schoolkids installed in the chapel gardens (see below) until the bus arrived. An elderly couple tried to get on to be told drivers were changing over and it wasn’t leaving for 10 minutes. Obviously regulars, we should have asked them to confirm the stop. When the new driver turned up, he was rebuked for tardiness. The elderly couple chatted to the driver for ages then I had to repeat our destination 3 times! But it was a very cheap and scenic ride in the autumn sun. At the other end, we were assaulted by vicious wind and I was assaulted by anxiety and unpleasantness while Phil waited patiently. In time to catch the last bus back, it took a different route, bypassing settlements to crazily speed over desolate moors in the gloaming and arrive in darkness. Exhausted after the bumpy ride, I was glad of Phil’s support and his naughty but nice fry-up dinner.

Prof Pollard said the UK’s high covid rates were due to 10 times more testing than ‘some countries’. Owen Patterson was found to have broken lobbying rules on behalf of Lynn’s Country Foods and Randox (awarded testing kit contracts). Meanwhile, PAC found TIT outcomes were ‘muddled‘, aims ‘under-achieved’ and an £37 bn budget badly managed with over-reliance on consultants. Idiot Jenny Harries said they played “an essential role in saving lives every day.” The United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) said current plans would only cut greenhouse gases 7.3% by 2030, nowhere near the 55% needed. Inger Anderson barked: “The world has to wake up to the imminent peril we face as a species.” Tory MPs blocking an amendment to the Environment Bill making it illegal for water companies to tip sewage into rivers, were named and shamed. Boris hastily reversed the decision. Bezos planned the Orbital Reef space station as a ‘mixed use business park’. Jeez!

Big Bumps

Wednesday brought a Westminster marathon – PMQs, the budget & spending review and response. Keir isolating again and Angela Rayner on bereavement leave, Ed Millipede led PMQs, to raucous applause. He started on the need to halve emissions this decade and cited the UNEP report: “does the PM acknowledge how far we are from the action required?” Boris insisted commitments were made, it was too early to tell if they were enough and we should recognise how far we’d moved. Red Ed said it was easy making promises for 30 years’ time but harder to make them for now. COP26 wasn’t a photo-op, or about climate delay, they mustn’t shift the goalposts and had to focus on 2030, not the end of the century.

Rishi Rich began by bigging up the economy’s strength and growth, proving their plan was working. He said the budget was about investment in a high-skilled economy and levelling up. Increases for all departments and devolved administrations included more dosh for housing, the removal of unsafe cladding and a reduction of rough sleeping by 1/3 (why not 3/3?) The anticipated re-invention of Sure Start took the form of A Start for Life and extending The Holiday Activity and Food Programme indicated caving into Rashford. More money would also come for SEN school places, youth clubs, football pitches and pocket parks, whatever they were – all viewed as inadequate to address missed education during lockdowns. Levelling up entailed projects in 100 towns across the UK including Ashton. It was a shame Rayner wasn’t there to ask if that meant she got a pocket park! His so-called ‘infrastructure revolution’ entailed investment in innovation and R&D. More money was pledged for core science, FE, T levels, the lifetime skills guarantee and ‘multiply’ to tackle innumeracy – which would be unnecessary if they hadn’t stripped basic skills bare under austerity. And what about literacy? “They don’t want more literate people realising what a load of rubbish they are!” observed Phil. On top of increases in the national wage and unfreezing public sector pay, Universal Credit claimants would keep more of their earnings. Other giveaways entailed a UK prosperity fund to match EU funding, less domestic air passenger duty, cancellation of a fuel duty rise, slashed bank profit tax, extended tax relief for museums, lower business rates for retail, hospitality and leisure and cheaper registration of boats under the UK flag (pirate rejoice!). Alcohol duty was ‘streamlined’ with more tax on high-strength booze and less on fizzy wine, draught beer and cider. “Hipster relief!” we cried. Rishi said this was all possible because we’d left the EU. It didn’t escape notice that he spent more time talking about booze than climate change, and failed to mention rail, care, the unemployed or violence against women.

Rachel Reeves accused Rishi of living in a parallel universe, saying with the cut in fizz and bank taxes: “at least bankers on short-haul flights sipping champagne will be cheering this budget today.” They wouldn’t be paying for “the highest sustained tax burden in peace time”, nor would property speculators. No; it would be working people. Well, I observed, tories would always do anything other than tax their rich mates! Wage rises were slated for not keeping pace with soaring energy prices and taxes. GMB Sec Gary Smith said the announcements were ‘vague at best’ and ‘it all reeks of vacuous gesture politics’ Was he thinking about Rishi’s budget-eve Insta pics in sliders? The next day, the OBR warned the cost of living could be the highest for 30 years and IFS advised living standards would fall with low wages and high prices causing ‘real pain’ to the lower paid. Paul Johnson said: “this is not a set of priorities which looks consistent with long-term growth or indeed levelling up.” The Resolution Foundation added that the poorest fifth would be £280 a year worse off. Meanwhile, Rishi went to Bury market, bought sweets and called it Burnley. Addressing criticism of the fuel duty cut, he vacuously said there were “lots of different ways” to tackle climate change.

The interminable proceedings made lunch long overdue. I was offered a follow-up appointment, conveniently in Tod next Monday, and went to the co-op. Shelves patchy after the outages, I just got essentials. A Woman almost bumped into me at the till. The cashier asked her to retreat. “I’m sorry,” said the woman. “I forgot my mask.” “Everyone forgets sometimes but distance would be good,” I replied.

Severely unrested Thursday, I awoke in darkness to the sound of pouring rain. Phil noticed a dripping hot tap. Thinking he blamed me, I listed faux pas I’d let slide. “You were saving them up. That’s what women do!” he jibed. “No, I was trying to avoid arguments.” I’d just settled with coffee when the jolly Ocado deliverer arrived. Blustery all day, it felt cold going to town in the afternoon. The market depleted due to half-term and lateness of the hour, I chatted to Councillor Friend at the cheese stall, pleased the pain from her knee replacement 5 weeks ago had eased. In the convenience store, I caught the end of a staff gossip: “I thought Boris had announced another lockdown.” I suspected sarcasm about day-trippers. Sweet Shop Man said my throat sweets were scarce, advised stocking up and complained everything was hard to get. “And you can’t get the staff either!” he quipped. Two shop-girls pretended not to hear. I hurried home, became tired and wondered why I was rushing. Maybe it was the cold, although the quick scoot did warm me up. The sink full again, I had a gripe. “I’m busy!” Phil retorted “Okay, but don’t put a cast iron pan on top of breakfast bowls!” He sprung into action, washed up and helped hang washing.

On BBC Breakfast, Pat Valance told us to eat less meat and fly less. He should tell Rishi! Government scrapped the red list in time for COP26. From Monday, double-vaccinated travellers needed to self-isolate but not in quarantine hotels. Some scientists said it was too soon – 90% of people still had antibodies but they were waning. Devi Sridhar expected more cases in Glasgow due to the summit but couldn’t say if it’d be a bump or a wave. Clement Beaune took ‘retaliatory action’ for Britain not sticking to The Trade and Co-operation Agreement. A fishing boat was fined and scallop vessel Cornelis ordered to Le Havre, detained and instructed to attend court at a later date. Macduff Shellfish insisted they’d fished legally. The French subsequently threatened to not let British boats land, Useless George said two could play that game and Liz Truss summoned the French ambassador. Richard Hughes of OBR informed us Brexit would reduce GDP by 4% in the long term, more than the pandemic at 2%. The Brazilian senate unsurprisingly voted to prosecute Bonzo but as it was up to chief prosecutor Augusto Aras, it probably wouldn’t happen.

On Question Time, airhead Lucy Frazer insisted we were £500 a year better off after the budget. How did she work that out? She said cutting domestic flight duty was nothing to do with climate change while entrepreneur Jenny Campbell claimed she listened to David Attenborough but somethings had to wait until the economy got going again. We can’t wait, you moron! Discussing the fishing spat with France, Maitta Fahnbulleh of New Economics Foundation called the post-Brexit bumps ‘big bumps’.

Bangs and Crashes

Iffy again on a darkly dull Friday, I managed a few exercises and some housework, drafted the journal and made traditional Lancashire parkin – messy but yummy!

Although hospitalisations were up, Prof Ferguson said covid infections were dropping so we didn’t need plan B. But the ONS found rising rates across the UK and 1:50 had the virus last week, the same number as in the second wave. The Prof also said the 6-month gap for boosters was arbitrary. Err, I thought it was based on the science! Reflecting on her choice of language, Rayner apologised unreservedly for calling tories scum. Arnie came on BBC Breakfast to say we could terminate climate change and Greta Thunberg joined protestors outside Standard Chartered Bank in the City of London to demand big finance stop funding fossil fuels. Jeremy Vine asked: should we give kids fruit instead of sweets on Halloween? Brandishing a bag of wiggly worms, we hoped they didn’t contain cannabis. “I wouldn’t put it past him to buy the wrong ones!” Police later warned parents in Rochdale to be on the lookout for laced sweets.

Fortunately, flooding didn’t reach our area over the rainy weekend. Phil doing my hair took most of Saturday. Chopping knobbly veg for dinner proved hard work even with a joint effort and took ages to cook. As the clocks went back, I looked forward to the extra hour but slept badly.

Thus I struggled to Thus I struggled to rise Sunday and dossed for hours. So much for the extra hour! In contrast, Phil slept loads but had tummy ache again. I wrote a haigaⁱ, draft-posted blogs, worked on a Christmas card, and helped him make cinder toffee. A first outing for the sugar thermometer, we watched eagerly for the red line to hit ‘hard crack’. “We could sell that!” he joked. The mixture bubbling insanely when the bicarb was added, we left it to settle before tasting – spot on! I prepared bowls of sweets and fruit in case of trick or treaters but we got none. No surprise with the heavy rain although that didn’t deter residents of the posh hall across the valley banging off fireworks.

Commuter journeys less than half, leisure trips were 90% of pre-pandemic levels. On the eve of COP26, WMO reported the last 7 years were the hottest ever recorded globally. The G20 met In Rome where Boris told leaders it was ‘last chance saloon’ for climate commitments. This saving the planet lark involved a lot of flying about! He admitted ‘turbulence’ with France over fishing, saying they might be in breach of EU law. Look who’s talking! Macron retorted it was a test of British credibility. The next day, Number 10 denied an end to the war, Boris said it was up to the French and Lord Frosty Gammon considered legal action.

With Bulb Energy on the edge of collapse, Red Ed told Marr we needed a different model for managing the supply chain. Interviewing Greta Thunberg, she was less concerned about not being invited to speak at COP26 than under-representation of poor countries. She said leaders said things to sound good and look good, putting all their eggs in the new tech basket was naïve and there was a pattern of governments proving climate action wasn’t a priority for them. (e.g., reducing air tax). Parts of Cumbria and Hawick flooded, residents were evacuated and trains couldn’t get to Glasgow. Two trains collided at a Y-shaped junction at Fisherton Tunnel, Salisbury. The crash hurt 13 passengers and left a driver with ‘life changing’ injuries. Cause unknown, the line would be closed for several days.

I went up early and set the alarm for Monday’s appointment. During a turbulent night, I had a funny dream entailing the cross-country bus and an uphill walk. “What are we doing?” I asked Phil, “we’re meant to be going to Tod.” The dream proved prophetic…

*WMO – World Meteorological Organisation

Reference:

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

Part 72 – Get A Grip

“Ministers mix messages, change approach and water down proposals when the public and businesses need clarity and certainty” (Justin Madders)

#Freedumbday

The heatwave continued. Determined not to be rushed Monday morning, I took my time even as Phil took the breakfast tray away but with washing and rubbish to take down, wished he hadn’t disappeared. Internet issues persisted the whole week and beyond. I managed to post blogs working round the signal drops. Phil checked all our telecoms equipment before ringing Talk-Talk again. On repeating they’d monitor it, I exclaimed: “They said that on Saturday. They’ll say anything to not fix it!” “Yep. That’s what they do.” Taking recycling out, elderly Neighbour came up to chat. Finding it hard to follow her stream of consciousness, I nodded politely. In the co-op later, the aisles were now both salad-free and markings-free. Face-coverings optional, I wore one.

Unlike some on ‘Freedom Day’ or #Freedumbday. Clubbers queued from midnight. Heaven looked like hell on a video posted by party-loving journo Benjamin Button. Alarm bells sounding, The Bumbler warned proof of 2 jabs may be required for entry to crowded indoor spaces from September. Scotland cautiously moved to Level 0. Social distancing was reduced to 1 metre but nightclubs wouldn’t open, bars had to shut at midnight, only 15 people could mix outdoors, masks stayed mandatory and the order to work from home continued. JCVI said there’d be no mass vaccination of kids as the benefits didn’t outweigh the risks of myocarditis. Pfizer would be offered to immunocompromised 12-15 year olds (or those living with vulnerable people) ‘as soon as possible’.

A long-overdue Ocado order impossible on the crap internet, we searched town Tuesday afternoon for salad items. The convenience store surprisingly had some, but no cucumber. Would we ever see it again? As a queue outside the sweet shop died down, I hovered until deeming it safe to buy pop. We refreshed on a shady riverside bench. Ducks sheltering from the boiling sun resembled rocks until they scarpered from the heron. On the way home, we waved to The Biker outside the corner pub and noted BT engineers fiddling with telegraph wires on the street below, hoping they were fixing the internet. “How come nobody else ever reports problems?“ I asked Phil. “God knows. I went door-knocking once and no one knew what I was on about. One neighbour even asked was it the same as the telly?!” Unfortunately the problem persisted so whatever they did hadn’t done the trick. I’d forgotten to get exterior primer from the hardware store but Phil said melamine primer I found in the cupboard would work. The ancient stuff dried almost on contact with the repaired planter. Grubby and sweaty, we freshened up with bedtime baths but they didn’t help with sleep in the sweltering heat.

Cases rising nationally 40% week-on-week, the average in Yorkshire was 60%. Daily cases reached 46,558 and deaths 96. A million school pupils were absent in the last week, the highest since March. ALW’s Cinderella show was cancelled when a staff member got covid and the rest had to self-isolate. Inevitable whingeing ensued, even though it negated his arguments. I’d shut up if I was him. Business minister Paul Scuzz-ball said it was up to individuals and employers whether to isolate if pinged. Downing Street scrambled out a message it was ‘crucial’ to do so. Shadow health minister Justin Madders accused the government of making it up as they went along, saying we were in the realms of ‘dangerous farce’. Some exemptions granted for ‘essential workers’, criteria were unclear.

Laura K, interviewed The Scumbag who declared his mission to bring down the government and claimed he stopped Boris going to see the queen in case he killed her. Unbelievably, he admitted he wasn’t sure if Brexit was a good idea! 400 yesterday brought the total of migrants crossing the Channel since January to 8,000, almost as many as the whole of 2020.

Hours after Nasty Patel bribed Paris to increase patrols, Mini Macron no doubt had a good laugh as a French navy gunboat forced a dinghy into UK waters. She told the home affairs committee the agreement wasn’t meaningless and border policy failure wasn’t responsible for letting in the Delta variant.

Newsnight mentioned a suggested extra 1% on National Insurance to fund social care. Ministers maintained it was unpopular but many people thought it sensible. Maybe Boris and Rishi believed it would go against them in the next election or was it yet another example of pandering to backbenchers? Jeff Bezos outdid Branston in the billionaire space race. New Shepard rocket went up 66 miles. Unimpressed with him thanking Amazon staff and customers who got him to the edge of space, critics screamed ‘pay your bloody taxes!’

Fail, And Fail Again

On a humid Wednesday, we took another rail trip – to Brighouse. Market day created lunchtime bustle. Phil got fish and chips from Blakely’s while I found seats on attractive new decking overlooking the Calder & Hebble Navigation. Facing towards sun so he’d spot me, I planned to move round when a pair of elderly women plonked themselves behind us; their coughing and their dog’s begging slightly spoiling the treat. We shifted to a further bench under cover of trees to gaze on water and pick herbs from incredible edible boxes. Further exploration of the shopping area revealed old buildings, squares and mainly independent shops selling everything you could need. We chatted to a lovely old man about architecture, craftsmanship and people not appreciating what was on their doorstep before buying elusive items including hammarite paint, cucumber and pasties for an easy tea. We walked to the beautiful canal basin, drank pop and strolled round. Industrial-looking craft from two years ago were replaced by trip barges, cabin cruisers, twee houseboats and what appeared to be a submarine conversion. After-school teenagers congregated at the dangerous confluence of the canal and river. Almost crawling back up to the station, it was 20 minutes ‘til the next train. We retreated to the shade of the old co-op building where Phil espied an engraving of a skep above the door, recalling pictures from the Pioneer’s Museum. Back home, I took food to the kitchen. Phil searched his bag and cried: “where are the pies?” “Don’t panic! I’ve got the pies, you’ve got the paint.” (For a fuller description, see Cool Places 2ⁱ)

As I collapsed on the sofa, Phil plugged the router straight into the socket without the extension. The internet signal seemed to improve, then failed again. He picked up the phone to Talk-Talk, but feeling hot and bothered, realised he’d lose his grip so left it until morning. We managed to watch Netflix by pausing when the red light came on the router (approximately every 20 minutes) and re-starting.

The retail and haulier sectors again warned the pingdemic meant empty shelves. British Meat Processors Association CE Nick Allen said food supply chains were ‘starting to fail’ and criticised minister’s ‘confusing messages’. At PMQs, Keir mocked the latest government slogan ‘Keep Life Moving’ and suggested it be replaced with ‘Get A Grip’. He went onto accuse a virtual Boris of superspreading confusion on the rules then immediately isolated himself after his sprog tested positive for coronavirus, although he’d tested negative. The NHS pay review body recommended a 3% rise. Minister Helen Waffle failing to tell the commons, the government later said they’d pay it to most staff. As the EU refused to renegotiate the Northern Ireland protocol, Lord Frost complained ‘we can’t go like this’. So what now, you idiot? Liverpool lost its UNESCO World Heritage Status. City councillors were surprised but no-one else was. We thought Brighouse had a better claim. Severe floods in China left 25 dead including 12 trapped in tube trains.

After another uncomfortable and fractious night, I felt wobbly and unable to focus my eyes Thursday morning. I forced myself to perform a few stretches which must have got some endorphins going because my mood improved. I took my time over the morning cuppa, even as Phil made to take the tray away, and asked for help with the washing. I went to the market, finding fish and a few veg but no toiletries again. German Friend dawdled up the steps ahead of me on the way back. As I caught up, I joked “is it hot enough for you?” We strolled to her front door where I gave her tips on fixing her bench. Phil had been on the phone to Talk-Talk. After a rant, they promised to send engineers the next day – pointless but maybe they’d establish the issue wasn’t in the house. Later, I saw discussion on a local Facebook group confirming the intermittent service affected the whole town. I proclaimed Talk-Talk lying bastards’ Phil’s anger resurfaced. “I thought it would reassure you that you weren’t going mad.” “Can I have that in writing?” “Yes, I’ll make you a certificate!” But I agreed it was frustrating that people posted on comment pages rather than reporting the problem. During a spell outside, Phil continued with his tiny work while I applied waterproof paint to the planters. Having located a website on exciting days out on the Calder & Hebble navigation, I asked him where next? Just then, the hippy who lived on a barge emerged from next door. I told him of our excursion to Brighouse on which he shared interesting snippets, and picked his brains on other waterway locations worth visiting. Early evening, rain started to fall. Initially light, it soon turned into a deluge. BBC 4 showed decent films so we didn’t have to endure interrupted streaming for our evening’s viewing. Eyes shutting while reading, I dropped off quickly only to wake in the early hours.

Reports that 9 out of 10 people had coronavirus antibodies but weren’t all immune, did not compute. 618,903 pinged by TIT in the previous week, 1.77m self-isolated. Jeremy C**t again called for government to bring forward rule changes or they’d lose “social consent for this very, very important weapon against the virus.” The BMA maintained that more pings indicated very high infection rates and deleting the app was like disabling the fire alarm. Ravi Gupta of Nervtag said the ‘mixed bag of measures’ created ‘confusion and havoc’ by making individuals isolate when large crowds attended sporting events. Kwasi Kwarteng promised a longer list of exempt sectors soon and urged firms to stick to the rules but food distribution company Bidfood told staff to take tests and carry on working while Iceland advised customers not to panic over food shortages (it should be ministers panicking). Tobias Ellwood wanted Cobra to enlist the army.

The Boardman report on Greensill, said Lex enjoyed an ‘extraordinarily privileged’ relationship with Camoron who could have been clearer but didn’t break current lobbying rules so ‘his actions were not unlawful’. Angela Rayner called it a classic whitewash. Dawn Butler had to leave the commons for naming Boris a liar – apparently not allowed even when blatantly true. Australia and NZ withdrew from the rugby world cup due to safety concerns. A day before the official start of Shonkyo 2020, the opening ceremony director was sacked. Kentaro Kobayashi made jokes about the holocaust when he was a comic. This followed creative chief Horishi Sasaki resigning in March after apologising for calling large lady Naomi Watanabe ‘Olympig’ and a composer quitting earlier in the week when it emerged he’d bullied schoolkids.

Yes, We Have No Tomatoes!

Friday morning, an exhausted Phil fell briefly back to sleep after brekkie. I drafted blog entries for Cool Places 2 but posting was impossible. ‘Bright Sparks’ engineers rang Phil saying they were on the way. Two men arrived in separate vans, blocking the road. Phil explained the problem didn’t affect just us. I chimed in with gen from social media, noted one of them wore a mask over his mouth but not his nose, and left them to it for the weekend shop. Still very little veg, signs on shelves promised supply issues would be resolved shortly. At the kiosk, I repeated what I wanted 3 times to a new staff member and she still got it wrong! On returning, the engineers departed. They’d replaced the router and all the wiring, thus eliminating any possibility of problems in the house. The internet worked for an hour before bombing. Barely keeping a grip, Phil again rang Talk-Talk who eventually said a BT van would come next Tuesday. “Not good enough!” I railed. I later noticed the red light didn’t come on the new router when the signal dropped. “They’ve fixed if then, ha, ha!” Phil went to the other shop and I asked him to look for salad stuff. He returned singing: “Yes, we have no tomatoes!” Watching old films on DVD, we managed not to drink too much wine and had quite an early night for a Friday.

Train services and petrol stations joined the list of services hit by the pingdemic. Useless George said exemptions for critical workers meant 10,000 could carry on working in food and other key industries. Dr. Chaand Nagpaul of BMA called it a “desperate and potentially unsafe policy that does not address the root problem…(exceptions) should only happen in the absolute rarest of cases and with rigorous infection control measures and assurances of safety.” 30 drownings in British waterways over the week included a mother and son in Loch Lomond, a 16 year old boxer in the River Dee at Chester, a young footballer in Salford Quays, and 6 men and boys in Yorkshire.

Suspecting the jolly veg man had cheated me, I weighed the mushrooms before cooking Saturday breakfast. The alleged half-pound came to 5.7 oz. Phil suggested they’d shrunk but if not, he should be put in the stocks for deceiving customers. Phil managed to do some uploading but I avoided the internet completely, writing and photo-editing. Brighouse shots lent themselves to monochrome and inspired the weekly haigaⁱⁱ. I also took a pile of recycling out, having to sort neighbours’ detritus. Phil popped to the co-op to find no beer as mask-less 30 somethings wandered the aisles.

A mere 20^oC on Sunday, I braved the market for knobbly veg and got quite a selection, including the last 4 tomatoes. Town packed, visitors cluttered the streets, queues snaked from charity shops, and kids and dogs paddled under the old bridge where a low dam had been constructed. Phil considering joining me, I rang to say don’t bother. On the way home, I saw The Poet and suggested he avoid the centre as it was full of bloody tourists. “Don’t worry, I’m going straight to the bus stop.” Noting the leafy stalks sticking out of my bag, he commented, “I can’t remember the last time I ate celery.”

Wanting to finish painting the planters, I noticed gaps in the bottom allowing soil to escape. I sawed a small piece of wood to size and hammered it on. Phil looked impressed as he watched. “I can do things, you know!” Decorating Neighbour came to see what the noise was and shared notes on the trials of painting, overhanging bushes messing his car up, and parking disputes. Phil found another small bit of wood to finish the bodge. I applied primer to the additions and paint to a plastic planter that now housed a rose.

Look North featured a local family we knew. The now very tall 11 year old son started walking to Westminster for the Zero Carbon petition, accompanied by parents in a campervan. At 10 miles per day it would take him 3 weeks.

No data on deaths released for a second day running due to tech issues, Goblin Saj tweeted ‘don’t cower from the virus’. Covid Bereaved Families for Justice incensed at the insensitivity, The Goblin deleted the tweet and apologised for a ‘poor choice of words’. What a cock! PAC reported dealing with the pandemic cost £370bn so far. £10bn wasted on PPE ‘not fit for purpose’, £6.7m per week was still being spent on storage. Phil came up with a solution: “Burn it!” At a rally in Trafalgar Square Saturday, covid-denier Kate Shemerani likened NHS staff to Nazis. The ex-nurse had been struck off for dangerous views on vaccines, social distancing and PPE. PHE said vaccines prevented at least 52.600 deaths (later revised to 60,000).

Mr. Ben claimed the Latitude festival was the safest place on the planet. Revellers required to show proof of 2 jabs or a negative test result, we wondered why on earth that couldn’t be the case all round. Public opinion increasingly in favour of Covid Passes, The Bumbler shied away from them and instead urged common sense. How was it ‘common sense’ to allow hundreds of people to cram into discos, possibly infecting each other, rather than proving they didn’t have the disease? Answer: Boris didn’t want to upset so-called libertarian backbenchers and in doing so, mis-read the public mood.

Unable to settle, the meditation soundtrack enabled a few hours’ sleep. Musings of a possible birthday trip in September led to dreaming of a train journey to the seaside. I stared out the window at a dark and rainy scene while Phil concentrated on his phone. Elder Sis and Youngest Brother materialised. He pressed a guide book on me as we alighted intoning: “You’ll need this.” Out on the road, other people surrounded us. Striving to outpace them, I lost sight of Phil. I awoke wondering if it was a message. Dropping off again, I had a follow-up dream; too indistinct to get a grip on details.

References:

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

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

Part 70 – Free For All

“Allowing community transmission to surge is like building new ‘variant factories’ at a very fast rate” (Susan Michie)

Go Your Own Way

Overnight rain led to more showers on Monday. A good day to do a pile of ironing. At dinnertime, I pre-cooked veg in the microwave and transferred them to the oven for roasting, stupidly forgetting to take the plastic lid off the Pyrex dish. Inevitably it melting and unsalvageable, at least it didn’t get on the food. Unable to keep my eyes open reading that night, I unusually fell asleep before I’d even turned over.

ONS reported 153,000 total deaths and WHO revealed 6 of 10 European covid hotspots were in Scotland. Walk-in in centres popped up in all regions and Labour MSP Anas Sarwar wanted the gap between jabs reduced to 4 weeks. For the 73^rd anniversary of the NHS, nauseating Thank You Day events took place all weekend. On Monday, the queen awarded them the George Cross. Princess Kate went into isolation so missed the Big Tea and St Pauls’ thanksgiving service which Simon Stevens called ‘emotional’. The Jerk’s Building Safety Bill gave homeowners 15 years to chase builders for unsafe homes. It failed to address how people were meant to afford to do so, resolve leaseholders’ issues or force guilty parties to pay up. Why wasn’t the government suing developers and getting them to repay The Treasury?

The pandemic ‘far from over’, as predicted, The Bumbler’s briefing on step 4 of the roadmap echoed Goblin Saj’s message on ‘learning to live with the virus’, telling MPs hospitalisations rose at a slower rate and deaths were 1% compared to ‘the peak’. We had to manage our own risk, exercise our own judgement and reconcile ourselves to more infections (at least 50,000 a day), hospital cases and fatalities. Stating ‘If not now, when?’ the PM gambled on vaccine protection and reduced the gap between 1^st and 2^nd jabs for under 40’s to 8 weeks. Going much further than hinted at, the ‘Rule of 6’ would end, there’d be no social contact limits, the legal mandate to wear masks was replaced by ‘guidance’ on where to use them and the instruction to work from home and the named care home visitor requirements ceased. Pubs could serve at the bar, nightclubs could open and audience limits were ditched. There’d be no compulsory use of covid passes but firms could use them and the scan code thingy if they wished. TIT would be ‘proportionate’, whatever that meant, with a different self-isolation system for fully-vaccinated adults and children to follow. The 1 metre plus rule only applying at borders to separate red list travellers, ‘tough border controls’ were to stay but government would work with the travel industry to remove the need for inoculated travellers from amber countries to quarantine. Promising ‘continual monitoring of the data’, the emphasis was on strengthened guidance rather than restrictions if cases rose autumn/winter. 19^th July wasn’t officially confirmed as the date until rubber-stamping next week.

Amid widespread concern of repeating last summer’s mistakes, Unite labelled the move on face-coverings which protected others ‘gross negligence’ and Jon Ashworth called it ‘irresponsible’. Yorkshire mayors Jarvis and Brabin joined the chorus of disapproval along with some scientists. Stephen Reicher wanted continuing ‘support and proportionate mitigations to keep us safe’ and Susan Michie said it amounted to building new ‘variant factories’. On Newsnight, Nathalie McDermott of King’s College claimed people took no notice when it was law so definitely wouldn’t when it became advice. She cited a rise in other illnesses due to the virus (e.g., diabetes, thyroid issues and long-covid) and favoured a delay until all adults were fully vaccinated. Ben Bradshaw supported less restrictions but felt ministers spoilt the message by lifting safeguards. Tory Laura Francis inanely told us they’d publish guidance. When asked if there’d be another lockdown in autumn, she replied ‘Who knows? It depends on future variants.’ Very re-assuring – not! UKHospitality seemed to be the only ones thrilled by the news; at least until the implications of rising cases hit home. Sick to death of tories banging on about mandated mask-wearing infringing civil liberties and the BBC saying the ‘common sense’ approach was a shift in emphasis, I screamed at the telly: “NO IT’S NOT! it’s what they’ve done every time they’ve lifted lockdowns!”

Phil told me kids used pop and orange juice to fake lateral flow tests (LFTs). Mark Lorch from Hull University explained. The soft drinks were highly acidic and affected proteins thus the antibodies’ sensitivity to the virus was lost. Immobilised antibodies stuck to gold particles at the T line and gave a false-positive result. If washed, the LFT kit regained normal function and the true result unveiled. He suggested ingenious kids devise experiments to further explore his hypothesis.

Risky Business

Becoming breathless during exercise Tuesday morning, Phil also appeared pained and later whinged the heavy weather caused migraine again. The Researcher texted to consult on how to refer to me on the project blog. As I still owned the data she’d use, we settled on ‘contributor’. Currently with her parents in Somerset, they were nervous after The Bumbler’s announcement. Yep, here we go again! ‘Genuinely aghast’ the PM admitted more cases and deaths, her mum saw it as mob rule: the elderly and vulnerable sent back indoors so beer drinking ‘ENGERLAND’ get to have ‘Freedom Day’. To prove the point, pubs were allowed to stay open ‘til 11.15 Sunday night. Finding several reduced items in the co-op, I returned laden. Phil had cleared kitchen surfaces which helped deal with extra purchases. Fatigued, I failed to rest and went to the garden, potted a mint sprig and tidied a few bits up. The Toddler ran up and down the street, chased by Young Mum. “Is he too fast to catch yet? I asked. “Nearly!” In the first Euro 2020 semi-final, Italy and Spain drew 1-1 after 90 minutes. No goals in extra time, Italy won on penalties. Phil observed: “it took them a long to win that!” But I agreed with pundits who said Spain played better. Whatever the outcome, I thought we’d watched the ultimate victors of the tournament (disloyal as that seemed).

Now confessing cases could reach 100,000 a day over summer, Prof Semple called it a ‘calculated risk’. In more mixed messaging, Witless told the LGA long-covid would go up, especially among younger people and urged all to ‘push hell for leather’ to reduce rates. How, if all restrictions were lifted? He added we’d have a ‘difficult winter’ and not return to normal until spring. Nevertheless, ministers unveiled promised further details to MPs. The Salesman scrapped school bubbles from 19^th July, ‘transferring contact-tracing to the NHS TIT system’. Saying they must balance risks from the virus with risks to ’health, social and economic hardship due to restrictions’, and the long-term protection of vaccines meant they could restore ‘the freedoms we all cherish’, Goblin Saj divulged under 18’s and the double-jabbed need not self-isolate after contact from 16^th August unless the ‘advised’ PCR test proved positive. Shats would later provide an update on the same for arrivals from amber list countries. Jon Ashworth called for a U-turn on masks and better sick pay to unlock in a ‘safe and sustainable way’. While Neil Ferguson was ‘moderately optimistic’, NHS providers worried about the impact on managing capacity, mental health and the backlog. Jonathan Chew joined Lewis Hughes in being charged with the assault on the Witless. OBR warned Britain faced ‘potentially catastrophic’ risks from the pandemic, climate change, a debt mountain and a £10b black hole even with economic recovery by mid-2022. Lord Bethel was under investigation by the Lords Commissioner for Standards, for sponsoring Gina’s parliamentary pass – against the rules because she didn’t directly work for him. As it was revealed 676 migrants made their way to Britain on dinghies 1-4 July, the Nationality and Borders Bill proposed a draconian 4 years in prison for illegal immigrants and 14 years for smugglers.

No idea why there was a pool of water at the bottom of fridge Wednesday morning, I checked the plug, turned the knob up, listened for the familiar hum and deduced it was the funny weather playing tricks again. I worked on the journal and watched PMQs.

Keir said summer infections of 100,00 a day begged key questions on hospitalisations, deaths and long-covid. Boris told him to look at the Spi-M graph which showed the projection was based on the Delta wave and erroneously, that vaccines ‘severed the link’ between cases and serious illness. He asked if labour supported ‘progress of this country?’ The Speaker reminded him it was for him to answer, not pose questions. Keir corrected Boris; the link was weakened not broken, berated him for evasion, repeated accusations of letting the Delta variant into the UK and recklessness for removing all restrictions in one go, risking further mutations and more pressure on the NHS. Was the PM comfortable with that? Boris said because vaccines gave 90% protection, they could go ahead with easement and challenged Keir on supporting the plan earlier in the week. Keir retorted opening up should be controlled with masks, ventilation and proper pay for self-isolation. Boris couldn’t just ‘wish away the practical problems’ of hundreds of thousands pinged by TIT to self-isolate (forecast to reach 3m a week by 19^th August) meaning huge disruption to families and businesses. How many did the PM expect to be infected? Boris inanely thanked all who self-isolated and insisted the move towards testing was a ’prudent approach’ as more people were vaccinated. Keir said by not answering, he ignored the next big problem; it won’t feel like freedom day to those who can’t go to the pub, sports day or on holiday. Yes, I thought, and what about countries that used infection rates as a reason to block entry? Not that I cared but those going bonkers in the pub watching footie, wouldn’t be happy when they couldn’t go to the Costas next month! Companies already warning of carnage, Keir predicted people deleting the TIT app to avoid being pinged thus undermining the system ‘he spent billions on’. Boris reiterated they were ‘moving prudently from legal diktat to people taking responsibility for their own actions’. Keir claimed it was actually about him losing a health sec and a by-election and getting flak from his own MPs. He did what he always did; gave into pressure, which would lead to a summer of chaos and confusion. Boris unbelievably maintained decisions were taken in a balanced way, and it took ‘a great deal of drive and leadership to get things done’.

After that bun-fest, Phil went to Leeds, I went to the large charity shop. Hovering to deposit donations, the cashier chatted to a customer about acquiring art space and getting Banksy to come. Stifling a guffaw, I commented: “How would we know it was him?” On the lookout for microwave pots, I found a spare cafetiere, glanced at the photo equipment then whizzed round 2 more shops and bought groceries. A profusion of wildflowers almost obliterated stone steps on the way home. I assembled a buffet-style TV dinner and Phil returned just in time for the footie. Hype all day over the Euro 2020 semi-final between England and Denmark, I looked forward to it as much as the next person, but you’d think nothing else happened in the world! In another rollercoaster, 24 million of us saw Denmark score first. England looked jittery but settled down and equalised as Sterling forced an own goal, falling forward into the net in comedic Sunday league style. In extra time, Kane scored a penalty on the rebound (lucky or calculated?) sending England through to the final against Italy. The keen-eyed spotted Mick Jagger in the crowd without quarantining, and a laser pen distracting Kasper Schmeichel. UEFA threatened to fine the FA. Elated players sang Sweet Caroline along with fans. I had no idea why it had become the new national anthem! 23 were arrested for hooliganism in London.

Case numbers the highest since 23^rd January, there were 33 deaths. ONS said 90% of adults had antibodies, up 10% from last month. A REACT study showed jabs cut the odds of even mild infection. Therese Coffee-Cup confirmed the Universal Credit uplift would end in September and incompetently ‘guessed’ at the exact date. Rishi Rich later defended withdrawal of the extra £20 and hinted at an end to triple-lock pensions, predicted to go up next year because of covid. All 11 English cricket team members embarrassingly self-isolated, insisting they followed safe practices.

Make Your Mind Up

I awoke several times in the night, visions of the game spinning round my mind. About to hang sheets out in Thursday sunshine, Walking Friend arrived. The line snapped and she offered a hand but I left the task to Phil as we went for lunch. The centre packed on market day, outside space was scant and the town hall offered a scant menu. We settled on the old mill shop. The first time I’d been asked to provide contact details for months, I filled in a slip before we ordered at the counter and sat out back by the river. “Apparently, there was a football match last night,” I joked. Laughing, she agreed media hype was ridiculous. Discussing earlier with Phil why I got into it when other sports bored me stiff, we concluded it was cultural. Ingrained since an early age, she attended Valley Road from age 12. She still found it entertaining, exciting, and inclusive. Costing nothing to have a kick-about in backstreets, anyone could get spotted, join an academy and go onto a professional career. It was about the only thing toffs hadn’t usurped (or ‘Ruperts’ as Phil called them, although they got to go to live games while ordinary people couldn’t afford it). We took our time drinking tea, enjoying soothing water sounds as a cheeky juvenile jackdaw came begging. Our plates empty, it hopped impatiently atop the fence waiting to scavenge as soon as tables were vacated. We visited a couple of charity shops where I acquired posh flip-flops before she headed to work for the late shift.

Phil sat on the near bench musing on whether to varnish. I rested on the far bench until heat forced me inside. About to do some work on the laptop, he roped me into hunting for turps and sticking up post-its in case passers-by had a mind to sit on tacky benches even if the 16 hour drying time was significantly cut by the warm sun.

The Dildo told the commons public accounts committee TIT was a great success, admitting we’d find that hard to believe. Indeed; especially as sage observed it had marginal effects on reducing infections. Shats said transport operators could make up their own minds whether to insist on mask-wearing when no longer illegal, as airlines BA, EasyJet and Ryanair had. In a trial of fast-track lanes for the double-jabbed at Heathrow, passengers could upload covid passes. 10-days’ isolation for fully vaccinated arrivals from amber countries and advice not to travel lifted from 19^th July, tests had to be taken 3 days before returning. Carriers welcomed the change but BA chief Sean Doyle wanted it extended to all vaccinated travellers, a reciprocal deal with the US, more countries on the green list and reduced need for ‘unnecessary, expensive tests’. The commons standards commissioner concluded Boris’ Caribbean jaunt breached the code of conduct but MPs overruled the finding. Sturgeon hinted the planned move to level 0 on 19^th July in Scotland and further easing 9^th August, might be stalled due to rising cases. After a surge in India, over 400,000 deaths and criticism of his handling of the crisis, Nodi fired 12 cabinet members. Although manufacturing vaccine, millions were unprotected. The opposition called them ‘fall guys’. Following Sarah Gilbert writing a book about it, Astra-Zeneca researchers received an NHS parliamentary award for Excellence. A Petition reaching 1000,000 signatories, Boris said making next Monday an emergency Bank Holiday, tempted fate. What? More than wearing an England shirt over your suit and tie? Men 30% more likely to test positive, Euro 2020 was blamed. A state of emergency was declared in Tokyo and Olympic spectators banned.

Asleep fast, I felt inordinately refreshed Friday morning. Phil slept straight through but it had the opposite effect, meaning he felt dozy. Getting weekend essentials in the co-op, I thought I’d proper lost my mind when I couldn’t see the second bottle of wine at the till. The friendly cashier saw It had slid to the other side of the slope. Phew! Awaiting Phil outside, I realised I’d dropped my mask bag and left the shopping with him to retrieve it from the end of an aisle. Deciding it wasn’t going to rain that afternoon, he applied another coat of varnish on the garden benches; unadvisedly as it turned out.

The R rate now 1.2-1.5, 122 scientists and doctors including David King of indy sage and the BMA wrote a letter accusing government of ‘dangerous and unethical experiments’ leading to deliberately infecting kids. Skyscanner saying holiday bookings up 53% within 30 minutes of announcements, Shats warned of airport queues due to additional checks, especially at return departure points. Lucy Moreton of ISU said waits could be up to 6 hours because not all electronic gates at UK airports were adapted: “It’s a political decision to check 100% of covid arrivals and that largely is the problem here.” Quarantine exemptions only applicable to NHS-administered jabs, ministers were ‘actively working’ on accepting certificates from other countries. In a welcome change of mind, Wayne Couzens pleaded guilty to the murder of Sarah Everard, on top of kidnap and rape.

The Fall

Over breakfast on Saturday, we randomly discussed cultural food. Neither of us ever sampling a Wigan pie sandwich or parmo. I pointed out his home city where we met after I graduated, boasted a plethora of delicacies. Mostly sliced meats such as haslet, it struck me as odd for a former fishing port. “We had the fish finger!” he declared, “and the best chips in the world at Hull market.” “I don’t remember that.” I spent a typical Saturday draft-posting the journal and took recycling out to see splotches on the benches where overnight rain had penetrated the varnish. So not a great job after all. Early mist replaced by drizzle then hazy sun, It felt pleasant out albeit humid. Making a trip to town shops, Phil found streets inevitably heaving and drunken girls pub-crawling in their finery. One projectile-vomited into the river and declared “that’s better.” Charming! Especially in broad daylight with kids about.

On a grey Sunday, we visited Open Studios. I headed canalside to find too many hippies and not much art but spotted a heron below the aqueduct. On the busy pedestrian street, the German sociopath and 2 other anti-maskers hunched round a crappy sign scrawled with the words ‘covid lies’. I muttered ‘eff off’ and hurried past. I waited at the foot of the fire escape until I was beckoned up to sign in and made a beeline to chat with Welsh Friend. She informed me her pregnant step-daughter and partner were now our neighbours – that solved a mystery. Phil rang as arranged and I waited for him back near the door. We caught up with another friend, whizzed round other exhibits, exited and crossed to the art mill to be directed to a display of posh photos and a mind-boggling installation. The top floor contained a few interesting pieces but £350 price tags for poxy oil paintings of fruit like you did in art class bemused us. We traipsed the whole building to locate Photography Friend, kept company by her teenage son. She gave details of the recent flooding. Water poured through the ceiling and landlords now argued over who paid for repairs. We took a back route to the large charity shop via the dilapidated substation, the grounds overrun by tall grasses and ragwort providing material for my weekly haiga. Phil perused the photo gear, tempted by an underwater camera and amused by a digital model so arcane it had a floppy disc slot. I examined a bag full of random leads and print-outs but no actual camera. On querying the shop workers reckoned it had been nicked and sold me the case for £4.

The Euro 2020 final finally arrived. Luke Shaw scored for England after 2 minutes. Too soon! Failing to get another in the first half, the team fell to bits in the second and Italy inevitably equalised. In extra time, England rallied but still goalless, dreaded penalties ensued. Italy missed 2 but England missed 3: Rashford, Sancho and an inconsolable Saka. Daft putting a 19 year old under that pressure; as Gareth Southgate accepted, taking full responsibility for the selection. Seeing every subsequent win after they beat Germany as a bonus, we ate a few celebrations anyway. The young team did very well to get to the final and had 18 months before the world cup to work on a balance between youthful ‘fearlessness’ and mature experience.

87% of adults now vaccinated (66% fully), anti-vaxxers surrounded a bus in Brighton so it had to stop inoculating. Nads Zahawi told Marr there was an ‘expectation’ to wear masks indoors from 19^th July and Goblin Saj said it was ‘irresponsible’ not to. Jon Ashworth spluttered the lifting of restrictions was irresponsible. A woman in Belgium, infected with both the Kent and SA variants, died while a death in Sydney led to lockdown extension. Treasury phones conveniently wiped ‘by accident’, Tom Scholar couldn’t pass on messages from Camoron. The Dildo reportedly unlikely to get the NHS England job., Douglas Gurr of Amazon UK was interviewed. Sharon Graham of Unite likened it to putting ‘the fox in charge of the henhouse’. Truss went to talk trade in the US and Richard Branston went to the edge of space in Virgin Galactic’s VSS unity.

The extended, exhausting football led to a terrible night. I tossed and turned with art and footie churning round my head and reached for the meditation soundtrack. The MP3 battery was flat even though I hadn’t used it since the last charge. Using my own relaxation techniques, I managed some sleep but nowhere near enough.

Reference:

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

Part 64 – Liars and Fantasists

“The prime minister brought a fantasist and a liar into the heart of Downing Street” (Jonathan Ashworth)

Under Duress

In the midst of Monday chores, a small glass bottle stopper went up the hoover. I emptied the thing and scoured through dust to retrieve it. Worn out, I lay on the bed to enjoy a good half hour feeling warm and drowsy. The moon almost full, we watched it cross the darkening sky but by the time Phil went out to take photos at 11 o’clock, it was raining.

Medical Detection Dogs spotted coronavirus with 94.3% accuracy. Reading about them a year ago, I wondered what took so long? Mini Macron and The Merkel pledged the WHO more support to enable better pandemic future planning and suggested a global health threat council. An extra 10,000 in the past month, Indian deaths hit 300,000. Japan launched 2 centres as part of a mass vaccination drive before the Olympics. Unenthusiastic citizens called it too little too late. Nasty Patel launched the Electronic Travel Authorisation (ETA) for UK visitors who didn’t hold a visa or immigration status, and promised a ‘fully digital border’ within 5 years. Roman Protasevich appeared on video to lie, under duress, about being well-treated. Rabid Raab instructed airlines not to fly over Belarus and suspended Belavia’s operating permit. The EU followed suit. TUI cancelled holidays to amber countries. After the collapse of Greensill Capital, Liberty Steel were closing 7 plants and jobseekers searched vacancies in social care as existing staff resigned.

Waking in the early hours Tuesday, I recalled a solitary detail from many dreams. Was telling someone the journal was ‘really important’ hubris or a message from the gods? Mostly cold and grey, I spent all morning writing and invented a new sandwich for lunch. Pitta filled with spam, tomato, camembert and red onion, and sprinkled with pea-shoots, was rather good! The cacophonous flood alarm sirens were tested several times causing severe disturbance in the afternoon. I went to the co-op to find gaps on the shelves, busy aisles and a mate mulling over flatbread. During a brief chat, he told me he’d also had 2 jabs and didn’t fancy a third so wouldn’t be volunteering for the Covboost trial. Taking groceries to the kitchen, I discovered Phil had washed up but annoyingly left the bowl full of water and the draining board stacked. A second kitchen trauma ensued later when I opened the freezer to find a split bag of sweetcorn. In the process of rescuing what I could, I made a bigger rip so the pesky tiny veg went all over the place and I had to sweep it into the bin. Inordinately upset, I collapsed on the sofa. Hearing my screams from upstairs, Phil came to sympathise.

Will Shakespeare, the first man to get the Pfizer vaccine, died of an ‘unrelated illness’. One the of busiest days ever at Bolton ED saw 41 admissions and 8 in critical care. With only 15 positive cases out of 58,000 participants, Oliver Dowdy hailed the test event pilots a success.

ONS data showed trade between the UK and the EU fell 23% Jan-March. Mainly due to Brexit, the ongoing recession and pandemic also played a part. One year since the murder of George Floyd, his family went to the Whitehouse and Biden gave his daughter ice-cream.

The Cabinet Office were accused of ‘local lockdown by stealth’ as It emerged they extended measures on Friday night for Kirklees, Bedford, Burnley, Leicester, Hounslow, North Tyneside, Bolton and Blackburn . Not mentioned in any formal announcements or ministerial briefings, local authorities complained of no consultation and finding out by accident. Tracy Brabin came on BBC Breakfast to call it ‘a bit shabby’ and Yasmin Qureshi was ‘gobsmacked’. Residents of affected zones were advised not to meet inside, keep 2 metres apart and avoid non-essential travel out of area. In urgent questions, Jon Ashworth called on ministers to “withdraw the guidance now…(The Cock) doesn’t even have the courtesy to tell us.” Under duress, Nads Zahawi defended the government: “we want the country to move out of these restrictions together and we’re trusting people to be responsible and to act with caution and common sense.” They argued the recommendations were first issued 14^th May when Boris told us to be ‘extra cautious’ before formal web publishing a week later. The site stated the rules were ‘underpinned by law’ but The Cock said the guidance was ‘not statutory’. I tweeted to ask him to explain the contradiction but got no answer. The guidance was later changed to ‘advice’.

Phantasmagorical

Wednesday morning, I really struggled to come round. Getting up and bathed required a huge effort. A pile of mail prompted me into boring life admin while watching PMQs. After lunch, I worked on the journal then sorted winter coats. Planning to put them away, I discovered 2 needed a wash first and stuck them in the machine before steaming woollens. Seeming quick and easy at the time, the task rendered me breathless. The evening Ocado delivery was badly packed and I got cheated out of 2 bags – no joke now they cost 10p each. Panorama featured AI and informed us Alexa used to be a British robot called Evie – another example of Brits selling stuff to the Yanks for peanuts!

ONS data based on sample blood test results, suggested over 75% of adults had covid anti-bodies. The UK leaders’ covid summit was postponed as Sturgeon and Drakeford wanted more time to prepare so it would be ‘meaningful’ and dismissed a rough agenda from Number 10 before key topics were agreed. Exactly a year since his trip to Barnard Castle and ahead of appearing before 2 commons committees (Health & Social Care and Science & Technology), The Scumbag posted around 50 tweets, including barely legible scribbles on a whiteboard outlining ‘Plan B’, suggesting ditching ‘herd immunity’ was all down to him when general opinion last year was he pushed for it. He told MPs that The Bumbler dismissed the pandemic as a scare story, said it only killed 80-year-olds, and volunteered to be jabbed with covid on live TV by Chris Witless. One of the more bizarre claims was that cobra had been derailed 12^th March 2020 by trump asking them to bomb Iraq and Carrie Antionette having a fit over her dog, comparing the scene to the film Independence Day. Other statements echoed what we all knew; that failures cost thousands of lives and ministers ignored scientific advice in September due to economic concerns. In scathing attacks, he criticised The Cock’s policies on care homes, PPE, and testing targets leading to disruption in Whitehall, and said he should have been sacked 15-20 times for persistent lying.

On PMQs, Keir used all 3 questions on the row between Boris and his former aide and concluded that if The Scumbag was fibbing, it showed poor judgement by the PM. Meanwhile, York MP Rachael Maskell asked about reneging on help for charities. The government decision not to match public donations also featured on Newsnight where on behalf of War Child, actress Carey Mulligan said it meant 3,000 Afghani children were at risk of being trafficked.

The next day, The Cock went to the commons to answer urgent questions and deny Scumbag’s claims. Quizzed on care homes, he admitted testing capacity wasn’t in place when he promised a ‘protective ring’, but insisted he’d gone away to work on it. Jon Ashworth said if the allegations of lying were true, they broke the ministerial code, and if false, Boris brought ‘a fantasist and a liar’ into Downing Street. Jeremy C**t pointed out the accusations were unproven and Boris maintained his actions hadn’t caused more deaths: “Some of the commentary…doesn’t bear any relation to reality…At every stage we have been governed by a determination to protect life, to save life, to ensure our NHS is not overwhelmed and followed the data and guidance we had.” But on radio 4, Prof. Ferguson said it was ‘unarguable’ that the delay in imposing the first lockdown caused 30,000 extra deaths: “The epidemic doubled every 3 or 4 days in weeks March 13 to 23. Had we moved the interventions back a week we would have saved many lives.” Prof. Susan Michie of sage said the change from the 2m to 1m plus rule was one of “several examples where scientific advice wasn’t followed.” She echoed Keir’s calls for the public inquiry to be brought forward.

Discussing the Scumbag’s revelations later, Phil thought he might have partially told the truth. “Yeah. The bits we already knew and he’s still a scumbag. They’re all as bad as each other. If people were more engaged in politics, they wouldn’t put up with useless leaders!”

Thursday morning, I drafted an article for the summer issue of Valley Life magazine before preparing to go out. Lunchtime by the time dithering was done, we hurried into town and dodged the market day throngs to get pies from the bakers. We crossed over to the park, also busy, where Phil found a free patch of grass while I bought pop from the café, baulking at the cost; they could at least provide tables for that price. More of a take-away with café prices! After eating our pastries, we walked east on the canal to see verges carpeted with daisies and hawthorn blooming at long last. Among gaggles of geese, sizeable goslings were already losing their fluff. Beyond the next village, attractive flood alleviation works were integrated with a new wetland nature reserve and the football pitch which always flooded, had been moved and protected by levees. We rested at a pretty lock and watched gammons on a barge navigate through. Phil overheard them complaining about unpainted houseboats. “Said them on their expensive rental cruiser. Snobs!” Rather tired, we decided to continue to the next town and catch a bus. The stifling journey back was prolonged by roadworks but at least the bus took us all the way home. While I didn’t find weariness unexpected, Phil complained of the vaccine making him post-virally weak. (For a fuller description of the walk, see ‘Cool Places’ⁱ).

Daily Covid infections hit 3,180, the highest since 2^nd April but The Cock said inoculation severed the link to hospitalisation and death . As Indian variant cases rose to 5,000, Prof. Ferguson cited it as the dominant strain and hinted full re-opening on 21^st June hung in the balance. The Bumbler gainsaid: ”I don’t see anything currently in the data to suggest that we have to deviate from the roadmap.” After administering over 17,000 jabs in a week, there were signs the surge in Bolton was capping off. The Cock called it ‘phenomenal’. That didn’t stop Yasmin Qureshi calling for the government to be investigated for corporate manslaughter.

Thousands flocked to the Westminster vaccine bus in London’s Chinatown where no ID was required (how did they know who’d been done?) The Glove-Puppet told the commons public admin committee the covid pass might be delayed or not happen at all while France imposed a 7 day quarantine for arrivals, excepting hauliers. Grant Shats confirmed HS2 would go all the way to Leeds. Beloved children’s author Eric Carle died, aged 91.

In the evening, we watched a telly film and newsy stuff. Appearing on Newscast, Arlene Foster proved much jollier in real life. It prompted us to return to earlier discussions on politicisation and apathy. I thought putting up with useless leaders was particularly an issue in England. Citizens of NI and Scotland tended to be more engaged, probably for historical reasons. At bed-time, I was assailed by the noise of the droning generator and a shouting chav. Even with earplugs, it took ages to get any sleep.

Layers of Lies

The crap night led to a later start Friday. Taking the breakfast tray down, I balanced it a moment on the way to the kitchen, when the whole thing tipped up. The handle on Phil’s ‘winter wonderland’ mug broke in half and dregs spilt all over the throws. I chucked them in the wash and dug out old cups with pleasing olive designs, not sure why they were consigned to a cupboard. Appearing after the mess was cleared, Phil asked what the crash was. “Spot the difference.” “With my eye sight! You’ll have to tell me,” he chortled. Indicating the changed throw and olive mugs, I braced for a telling off but he continued laughing. “I never get annoyed.” “Liar!” “I hate breaking things but I don’t get annoyed.” “Breaking stuff is part of life and it’s been one of those weeks.” Still fatigued, he struggled to come round. I went to the co-op, not noticing the drizzle until I got out the door. Copious traffic suggested people taking advantage of the good weather forecast and upcoming spring bank holiday weekend. A less bustling supermarket confirmed the assumption. My mate let me pay for a trolley-load at the kiosk, which was nice. Phil asked why I hadn’t requested help with the shopping but agreed I’d have been stood waiting in the rain and I was quicker doing it myself. He then offered to carry bags to the kitchen but disappeared upstairs, not coming to my aid until groceries were all-but sorted. Slicing cabbage for slaw that evening, I managed to slice my thumb. I screamed in shock and pain and collapsed on a chair. As I ranted, Phil told me to calm down. “What part of being in shock don’t you get?” “Never had it.” “More lies!” I eventually settled down but dropped my fork during dinner making me fume again. It really had been a crap week!

The R rate up to 1-1.1, there were 10 deaths and 4,182 new infections – an increase of 25% in a week and the highest since 1^st April. Hospitalisations rising in some areas, PHE said only 3% of those infected by the Indian variant and 5 out of 201 who went to A&E, were inoculated. Kwasi Kwarteng saw no reason not to re-open on 21^st June, but warned data could change warranting ‘flexibility’. Kate Nicholls of UK Hospitality said it was ‘absolutely critical’ to stick to the date, yet Christina Pagel of indy sage wanted to wait: “If we can just delay international travel, delay stage 4 of the road map until…(more people are) vaccinated with 2 doses, we’re in a much, much better position. We’re only 2 months away from that, it’s not long to wait. What I don’t want is for us to have new restrictions.” A young woman died from a blood clot after one jab of AZ and the MHRA approved the one-shot Janssen. 20m doses on order and due to arrive by the end of 2021, JCVI would provide guidance on who should get it; likely proposing hard-to-reach groups. After months of delay, Lord Geidt released his first report on minister’s interests. He said Boris was ‘unaware’ that tory donor Lord Brownlow settled the bill for the flat refurb, and ‘unwisely’ let it go ahead without ‘more rigorous regard’ for how it would be funded. More care should have been taken over the financial arrangements and officials weren’t rigorous enough in examining the proposed Downing Street Trust’s ability to pay, but this was a ‘minor breach’ of the ministerial code. I remained puzzled that the trust was legal in the first place.

Fatigue caught up with me the next day. I spent a typical Saturday at home, draft-posted the journal, and got rid of loads of recycling and more of the creeping buttercup in the garden until the small stone path emerged from the undergrowth. I exchanged pleasantries with neighbours and re-directed a couple about to climb steps into private gardens. I had to stop my labours when the sun emerged from behind clouds, sweat dripping down my face in the rising heat. I gulped water and started to clean up the debris. Phil returned from the shop to report town predictably heaving. He squatted on the kerb to chat and I recalled an article in Metro about rich Californian cyber-geeks spending millions on implants thinking they’d live forever. For dinner he made kofta for the first time – another delicious meal invented. That night I dropped off, book in hand and bedside lamp still on, to wake a few minutes later and sleep fractiously thereafter.

The Bumbler married Carrie Antionette in Westminster Cathedral. Twice divorced, permission was granted because his previous marriages weren’t catholic ceremonies so didn’t count. Technically, that made his elder kids bastards. The obvious distraction ploy by the duplicitous Papist git outraged Catholics and those who’d had to put their weddings on hold during the pandemic in equal measure.

Early mist soon burned off Sunday to be replaced by warm sunshine. Layers of tory lies persisted as Nads Zahawi told Marr a pile of untruths trying to defend The Cock’s claims of ‘putting a ring around care homes’.

Setting off for a walk, I popped in the co-op for packed lunches. The scrum in front of the meal deal shelf suggested it wasn’t an original idea. From the opposite bank, the riverside steps were as crowded as the beach! We continued upstream, assailed by scents of baking loam and wild flowers. Creeping buttercup looked much better in verges than in the garden. Dappled light made arty shadows on the weir. Yet more families pretended it was the seaside. We climbed onto tarmac then into a lush clough. As we descended to a brook, felled trees cluttered a shingled shore we’d hoped to rest on. We squatted on a low bridge to eat and check the map for a route up to a monument. Unable to see a path, we proceeded upwards and glanced back to see the structure emerge below. Disinclined to back-track, we continued up the road to a hamlet and found a free bench outside the local pub. As we supped pints, traffic continually streamed in both directions. The cycling couple on the adjacent table made a move and we wondered how their small dog rode a bike. They then put the pooch in a bag. ‘Doggy bag!’ We struck up a conversation encompassing the joys of pet ownership, the state of the world and limited travel options, concluding there were worse places to be stuck. Taking roadway down was tricky with speeding vehicles and no pavement but shaded by extensive woodland. At the edge of town, a long flight of steps provided a short-cut. I’d always assumed unusual roofs on terraces were dormers added later but Phil informed me they were Dutch houses. The longer day out in extended sunshine had been very enjoyable while stops for sustenance ensured against severe fatigue – or so it seemed at the time. (For a fuller description of the walk, see ‘Cool Places’ⁱ).

I even managed to edit photos and write a haiku after dinnerⁱⁱ. Mind you, I had a crap night. Unable to sleep, I looked out to see hundreds of stars including rarely spotted feinter ones. I eventually dropped off with the help of the meditation tape.

References:

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

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

Part 59 – The English Game

“A good news story at last…struggling Westminster family rescued from ‘John Lewis nightmare’ by generous anonymous donor” (Barry Sheerman)

The English Langwage

Waking in the bright early dawn Monday, I turned over and slept ‘til 9. Jeremy Vine featured a campaign to make English words easier to spell. It had us in stitches. Examples included ‘wosh’, ‘Receev’ and ‘guud iedei’. Wondering who’d come up with this guff, it turned out to be the result of 3 years intense coffee-cupping by The Spelling Societyⁱ. Inspired, we came up with our own, without the need for umpteen focus groups. E.g.: langwage; alfabet; soop; shop-bort; komershull; vakseen; actchewal; dementure.

After blog posting and grotty chores, I grouted the tiles on the bathroom cube and planted wild garlic bulbs. Uprooted by accident when picking, we now had 6 plants in tubs. I’d forgotten I’d made a pile of detritus 2 weeks ago and filled a black bag with it, while a wasp annoyingly buzzed round my head. Hot and thirsty, I retreated indoors for water and a lie down.

Vaccinations reached 43m, of which 33m were first and 10m second jabs. As cases in India still soared and the majority of the 103 variant cases in the UK were linked to travel, New Delhi went into a week’s lockdown and the whole country went onto the travel red list. Effective from 4.00 a.m. Friday, Boris was forced to cancel his trade trip. The European Super League confirmed late Sunday night, the big 6 English clubs were set to join along with 3 Italian and 3 Spanish teams. Much condemnation and consternation ensued. Greedy owners were lambasted by ‘legacy’ fans. UEFA called it ‘disgraceful’ and ‘self-serving’. JP Morgan underwrote loans for The Super League Company who instigated legal action so UEFA couldn’t stop players partaking in other international competitions. Number 10 looked at options such as fan ownership or clawing back Covid loans and Jose Mourinho was sacked from Spurs. Rishi Rich announced a digital currency taskforce, denying it meant the end of English cash. Perseverance flew the Ingenuity helicopter on Mars. The two NASA bots endearingly took photos of each other.

Phil had struggled with his vision all day making him quite depressed but perked up in the evening. Watching our customary Monday night film, I could hardly keep my peepers open. Hoping for a decent night, the droning generator meant it took ages to get any sleep, even with earplugs and the meditation tape. Wakened by an almighty crashing and clanging at 4. 50 a.m., I was absolutely furious. And then it was only 3 hours until the engineering works re-commenced!

Tuesday morning, I felt back at square one with extreme fatigue and a headache. At the end of my tether, I fumed in bed while Phil fetched breakfast and tried to cheer me up. I forced a chuckle as he pulled funny faces. Wobbling downstairs for chores and writing, I opened the living room window for fresh air to promptly re-close it as the incessant din reached a crescendo. The forecast good, we’d planned a walk but the sun disappeared and I wasn’t up to it anyway. Desperate for respite, I took valerian before a siesta. Slightly chilled out, I didn’t fully relax, gave up and placed an Ocado order.

On the campaign trail Monday, Keir was invited to the Raven in Bath by one of the co-owners. In a rage that Labour hadn’t opposed lockdowns, the other owner, Rod Humphris, screamed: “get out of my pub!” The sociopath came on Jeremy Vine Tuesday morning saying ‘look at Sweden’. It was incredulous the likes of him still got a platform to spout their nonsense after a year of suffering and death! Lucy Moreton of the Immigration Services Union said 100 fake covid passes were detected at UK borders every day, airports were breeding grounds as arrivals from different countries were confined indoors and mixed in queues with no social-distancing, and there was no way to know if they quarantined as required.

English Pastimes

The night quieter, I anticipated noise disturbance any minute but it didn’t come until 8.20 Wednesday morning; mercifully not as loud as the previous day. A communique on the mayoral elections did nothing to change my opinion of the motley crew. Most were Leeds-based, the English Democrat candidate’s address wasn’t even in Yorkshire, and Reform UK (nee The Brexit Party) were anti-lockdown nutters (no wonder Anne Widdecombe was in it!) Similarly, the fruit-loop Freedom Alliance standing for the local council, spouted a load of conspiracy guff. A leaflet pushed through the letterbox later in the week had literally been hand-rolled on a Gestetner. The reek of old-fashioned ink took me back to early anarchist group days!

After the inevitable happy birthday to the queen, Keir led PMQ’s by referencing texts from the Bumbler to James Brexit Dyson. In response to Dyson’s lobbying, the PM personally promised he’d fix an issue over the tax status of workers returning to make ventilators at the start of the pandemic (which never materialised). Days later, Rishi announced workers coming to the UK wouldn’t have their tax status changed. “One rule for those that have got the prime ministers’ phone number, another for everybody else.” Keir railed, “if a nurse had (his) phone number would they get the 4% pay rise?” Boris replied: “I make absolutely no apology at all for shifting heaven and earth…to secure ventilators for the people of this country.” Keir batted back with accusations of tax breaks for tory chums, pushing colleagues to help Greensill and dodgy PPE deals. With new allegations every day, it was “sleaze, sleaze, sleaze…all on his watch!” Boris typically evasive, played the old Captain Hindsight card. A labour spokesman later said there was evidence the ministerial code was breached and further ammunition came from Transparency International UK who identified 73 crony contracts, and possible criminality.

For the first time since cafes and pubs were allowed to have seating, we had lunch out. It looked pleasant from indoors but as we set off, the sun hid behind clouds and a cool breeze whipped up. We sat outside the Turkish café for a chilly al-fresco lunch – a very English pastime! German Friend came by and asked me to share pre-diabetic tips sometime. She’d booked a table at the pub on the square for herself and a mutual friend (whom we’d last seen March 2020; just before she went into hospital at the start of lockdown #1). I went in the sweet shop for some non-essential shopping while Phil loitered outside the animal charity shop. We perused a seemingly interesting display of kitchen gadgets but came away empty-handed.

Stopping to say hello to our friends outside the pub, they persuaded us to join them. The two women sat opposite each other at the far end while an old fellow pub mate sat at the other end, leaving plenty of space for us. Before getting stuck into a one-time regular pastime of supping ale, I nipped across the square to finish errands before enjoying an hour in company. Although fun, it felt odd being with other people and the staff flitted between tables far too much for my liking. Comparing notes on the various lockdowns, we had a laugh at the geese and corvids taking over during the first one.

After 1 pint, we felt really cold and said our goodbyes. Phil still had one more purchase to make. I strolled homewards until he caught me up and persuaded me to take a bunch of free sage from a table in the lower street a very English herb.

Daily press conferences by Boris scrapped, Oliver Dowdy was wheeled out to defend the decision to use the room in Downing Street, specially refurbished at tax-payers’ expense, for ministerial press conferences instead. Indian cases and deaths still rising, hospitals were full, the number of variant cases in the UK doubled, and 200 people a day arrived to beat the Qs before Friday. Boris announced a Covid-19 taskforce to find effective anti-virals. More legislation muted to foil the European Super League such as changing competition laws, the big 6 English teams all pulled out, as did Inter Milan. Was the move in anticipation of changes to the Champions League which the big clubs didn’t think went far enough, or a ruse to get more money out of the FA? John Barnes appeared on BBC Breakfast to say it was. As Derek Chauvin was rightly convicted of the George Floyd murder, it emerged teenager Ma’Khia Bryant was shot by a cop minutes before the verdict. Would anything ever change? After a Tesla car missed a turning, crashed into a tree and burst into flames killing the 2 occupants, police said no one was driving. Evil Musk tweeted: “Data logs recovered so far show autopilot was not enabled” A likely story seeing as 27 crashes in the past month were being investigated in the USA.

English Mythology

Frost gave way to sunshine on Thursday. Phil wanted to find more mythical archaeology and I agreed to go in search of a standing stone near the hilltop village. We caught a bus up to the boundary with the next hamlet, utilised a picturesque bench to eat a pasty lunch and consulted directions before looking for the mystical stone. On eventually finding it, we realised we’d past it several times on the way to the crags. How did we miss those huge holly bushes? Inaccessibly set into a wall and obscured by barbed wire, we peered over to realise a line of stones crossing a horse field led directly to it and mused on possible links to structures on the moor. Continuing down, a trio ascending considerately attached their dog’s lead. At the bottom, we turned onto the leafy road for an easy walk back. The trio with the dog re-appeared and asked for directions to town. Near home, we chatted to my old art teacher. He’d had a family holiday in Cornwall the previous week. Postponed from last year, they’d had a good time but found it impossible to eat out in the evenings. (For a fuller description of the walk, see Cool Placesⁱⁱ).

On another quiet night, I struggled to sleep. My mind full of the day’s findings, I recalled a neighbour once told us the whole town was surrounded by a stone circle. Was it true? Was that why we kept finding mysterious stones? It would be awesome if so – like the mythical Wiltshire village of Avebury!

95% of over 50’s now vaccinated, Margaret Keenan looked forward to a jolly. Covid passports promised soon, she could go to desperado Spain and wear a mask on the beach. The Cabinet Office were probing the source of the leaky texts between Boris and Dyson. Labour wanted a Commons Liaison Committee enquiry. The Good Law Project court hearing on PPE scams unveiled a VIP route to the PM. Civil Servants had complained of drowning in a quagmire of contract requests that didn’t pass due diligence. Hapless drug dealer Ali Hilmi was hilariously convicted after trying to get into the Projekt Nightclub, Burnley with fake £20 notes that said Poond. Phil discovered they could be bought on Amazon but had sold out. The misspellings harked back to the daft spelling society campaign, but the English pronunciation was Pownd, wasn’t it? Maybe he was Scottish, like Les McKeown of the Bay City Rollers who died suddenly.

The English Saint

Woken again by engineering work Friday morning, I battled heavy limbs and a headache for a trip to the co-op, luckily quiet and stressless. I took a break from writing in the afternoon to embark on a ‘deep clean’ of the bathroom, expunging mould from the back window and evicting a family of spiders from beneath the back cupboard. Through the open window, I heard a child calling “pappa!” Not even the English middle-class used that word. They must have been proper posh! I suspected they might be slumming it in a camper van recently parked up on the street below. That evening, we spotted the shed people returning from a game of golf – no-one knew why that was a popular pastime!

Local news wished us happy St. George’s Day. Rather pointlessly, seeing as no special events were allowed and he wasn’t even English. Some sage bods said vaccines did a lot of the ‘heavy lifting’ so we could forgo face-masks over summer but may need them come autumn. 1 dose of AZ or Pfizer gave 74% protection according to the latest study, while the EU planned to sue AZ over ‘contract failure’. The PAC inquiry into supply chain financing revealed that Camoron bombarded BOE gov John Cunliffe with letters. Treasury PS Tom Scholar said he arranged 9 meetings with Charles Roxburgh as it was ‘natural’ to talk to an ex-PM. ONS figures showed the public deficit was 14.5% in the last fiscal year, the highest since 1946. A computer chip shortage caused by people working at home halted car production. Post Masters were acquitted of theft convictions as crap Fujitsu Horizon computers were proven to be responsible for discrepancies. Having covered up the scandal for years, and not telling the accused they weren’t alone, former PO chief Paula Vennells belatedly apologised, resigning from her roles on the boards of Morrisons and Dunelm and as a church minister.

Getting clean clothes out Saturday morning, a drawer in the fitted cupboard collapsed. Annoyed at taking everything out to find the cardi I wanted wasn’t even there, I bad-temperedly hurled woollens on the bed and covered them with a dust sheet before Phil fixed the offending article with glue and screws. It seemed a good time to wash bedroom rugs and I hung them outside to take advantage of fine, breezy weather. Young student neighbour appeared, seemingly overdressed but denied being hot. She was returning to uni soon. Due to royal charter, Cambridge had special term-times over which the government had no authority. I popped to the co-op for a couple of items to find the shelves stripped of salads and dips. Maybe everyone was having barbecues to belatedly celebrate the not-English patron saint. Next-Door-But One’s fella waited for me to come back up the steps. Conversing for the first time ever, he turned out to be even more neurotic than me about the effectiveness of vaccines and said the whole household had shielded and not even entered a shop for over a year. I didn’t mention spotting them going places in the car. Young Student came by and declared “I’m off to the pub,” marking a dramatic change in attitude. Maybe she believed herd immunity was now sufficient to protect us oldies. I scrubbed the bathroom floor and installed the newly-tiled cube, then set about upcycling an old Ikea table. Found a couple of years ago, the garish pink thing spent a summer outside until it became warped in the rain. After some bodging, it occupied a corner of the living room, covered with a cloth. More fixing required, Phil got the glue and screws back out. I considered tiling the top for outdoor use but calculated I’d need loads and decided painting would be easier. By then, my back ached and I’d had enough so.

Fallout from the fast-failing Euro Super League continued. Pundits from across Europe on Football Focus said football wasn’t viewed the same on the continent. To them, it was just 90 minutes whereas the English saw the game as essential to life. Apparent that rich owners didn’t understand its cultural importance, player and fan involvement was seen as the only way forward. Former PM Gordy Brown called the episode a turning point, after which “people will not support greed.”

In spite of backache, Phil consented to a Sunday forage. Pretty sure the garlic patch our Walking Friend mentioned was the place we visited a year ago, we climbed up the ridge. I tried to trace likely lines of the fabled stone circle surrounding town. “But why would anyone bother?” asked Phil, “it was a muddy bog in ancient times.” “Good point.” In the dark wood, we found the crop larger than last April, but top leaves looked dusty. We each filled a bag and rested on a mossy rock beside a twisty path and walked between gnarly trees to arrive at a path last trodden in autumn. Now both flagging with back pain, we had to stop again on the way home. I began to give the leaves a thoroughly good rinse to find Phil’s haul full of grit and left it for him to tackle. Over coffee and cake, I came up with a haiga based on Thursday’s walkⁱⁱⁱ.

Whingeing on the Marr about Brexit, Sturgeon promised no border if Scotland became independent – well, we all knew how well that went in Ireland! The Indian crisis worsened: the number of infections broke the world record 4 days in a row, hospitals ran out of oxygen and Modi was blamed for slow vaccine roll-out even though they made loads. Stephen Reicher criticised a group of ‘siren scientists’ calling for lifting of measures while in Germany, restrictions would last ‘til June. Anti-lockdown demos in London were attended by mayoral candidate and all-round wanker Lawrence Fox. Clashes led to 2 cop injuries and 5 arrests. Hard to figure what they hoped to achieve with lockdown almost over, on Jeremy Vine the next morning, Beverly Swivel-insisted protestors acted responsibly unlike pub-goers in Soho – I rest my case!

The Scumbag reported to be the Chatty Rat who leaked the Bumbler/Dyson texts, he denied it. He also refuted claims he’d leaked full details of lockdown mark 2 before the official announcement, via a WhatsApp message from Downing Street and accused Boris of wanting to stop an ‘embarrassing’ inquiry into the real source. Boris phoned news bosses to sprag on his former spin doctor, a move destined to backfire. Allegations that The Bumbler used tory donors to pay for renovations to his flat were dismissed by Liz Truss as ‘tittle-tattle’. She was more concerned with trade deals than this petty stuff. Apparently Carrie Antionette insisted on a revamp after Theresa May left ‘a John Lewis nightmare’. Most people considering John Lewis upmarket, not to mention it smacked of yet another piece in the cronyism jigsaw, the comments showed how out of touch they really were. Barry Sheerman joked on twitter: “A good news story at last!”

The night quiet but bright with an almost-full moon, I revelled in a semi-stupor until I fell into a deep slumber only to wake 2 hours later with snippets of dreams flitting through my mind.

References:

i. The Spelling Society: https://www.spellingsociety.org/; http://spellingsociety.org/uploaded_views/traditional-spelling-revised-personal-view.pdf

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

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

The Corvus Diaries

A Journal of the Coronavirus

Commons Public Accounts Committee