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 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 84 – Safe As Houses

“The simple truth is that the so-called wall of defence we’ve built up with vaccination is now crumbling” (Jonathan Ashworth)

Crumbling Walls

Wobbly and dizzy Monday, I resigned myself to bedrest. Phil took charge of chores, cooking and fetch me the laptop. Posting blogs took most of my day.

Vaccine take-up in schools was as low as 5% in parts of England, possibly because high infection rates led to absence. 50% in Scotland where kids could use walk-in centres, speculation mounted that would soon happen south of the border. Former US secretary of state Colin Powell died of Covid complications, even though he had 2 jabs. In a packed house of commons to pay tribute to David Amess, Boris announced city status for Southend.

Very dark Tuesday morning, I thought it was the middle of the night. I dropped off again until I heard Phil moving, half-heartedly called out then dozed some more. He offered to open the ‘budgie’ curtains but I managed it by crawling across the bed. I drafted the journal and used the USB lead for some phone housekeeping, inevitably entailing another Xperia update.

UK covid rates the second highest globally, 223 deaths were recorded. New delta mutant AY4-2 was being monitored. Prof Ferguson urged speeding up boosters. Amanda Pritchard told MPs invites were going out as soon as people were eligible but take-up was slower than previous jab drives. Prof. Hayward wanted other measures. Besieged by anti-vaxxers, Glove-Puppet was escorted safely into ‘a building’ by police. The French reported Valneva showed better results than AstraZeneca but gave no data. Adolf Von De Leyen said 1bn vaccine doses were exported from the EU to 150 countries since December. Largely sent to wealthier nations, there were plans to send 500m to poorer countries. Poland declared national laws took precedence over EU law. Most Poles wanted to stay in the EU but some sought ‘Polexit’ – they needed a catchier name. The Bumbler announced the UK would be carbon-neutral by 2050 thanks to the Breakthrough Energy Catalyst partnership with Bill Gates, nuclear power plants, grants for electric cars and heat pumps. The Home Energy Scheme to start April 2022 for 3 years, entailed only enough money to replace 900,000 of 25 million domestic gas boilers. Initiatives criticised as too little too late, lacking detail on how they’d be delivered, not benefitting everyone and not properly costed, Red Ed Miliband called it “a meagre, unambitious and wholly inadequate response.” Amidst cost of living pressures: “people can’t warm their homes with yet more of Boris Johnson’s hot air, but that is all that is on offer.”

Rousing shockingly late again Wednesday, I did a few stretches to prevent seizing up, but realised I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I did succeed in getting morning coffee, puffed and panted back upstairs, then collapsed back on the bed with backache and fatigue. I got a text for a new appointment the following week. at an even earlier time than the one I missed last Friday, there was no way I’d make it. I rang to be told they couldn’t offer me anything else but I stood my ground and eventually got offered an afternoon slot, 2 days’ prior to the original.

I worked on writing and watched shenanigans from Westminster. Daily Politics asked: is it time for Plan B plus? Siobhan McDonagh exclaimed “Plan A isn’t even working!” (i.e., boosters and schoolkid jabs). Disgusted Sage only met monthly, she called for a return of the daily briefings. Please no! Witless and Kwarteng had advised sticking to existing advice and respecting others. Goblin Saj and Witless later held the first evening press conference in 2 months, announcing ½ million doses of Maersk Molnpiravar and Pfizer PF-073 had been bought, even though the covid treatments didn’t have regulatory approval. Warning infections could reach 100,000 a day, The Goblin urged everyone to get vaccinated, stay vigilant and employ measures to fight the virus ( e.g., wear masks in crowds). Saying Plan B wouldn’t be activated unless there was unsustainable pressure on the NHS, sounded like a veiled threat: if restrictions were imposed it was our fault – again! Jon Ashworth observed the wall of defence was crumbling and Prof Pagel screamed: “Just effing make them (masks) government policy then!” Matthew Taylor of the NHS Confederation said we risked a ‘perfect storm’ and ‘stumbling into a winter crisis’ if Plan B wasn’t implemented immediately.

Following several reports of students unable to remember the night before, Patel ordered police to investigate women being spiked in nightclubs. PMQs not held for months, the first question was on Women’s safety and confidence in police. Boris replied convictions needed to be ensured. Keir used all his questions to interrogate action on violent extremism and getting things done. Boris said the Online Safety Bill was an important tool to crack down on dangerous content and guaranteed it’d pass into law before Christmas. Keir retorted Telegram was the ‘app of choice’ for extremists, allowing access to footage of murders of MPs, Jews and LGBTQ. Tough sanctions were all very well but directors of platforms wouldn’t face criminal action, a big problem of the government strategy. He said they could stop harmful material if the whole house worked together to strengthen the legislation.

Due to rising cases, Morocco banned flights to and from the UK, Holland and Germany effective from 11.59 p.m. In Brazil, a 6-month hearing into Bonzo concluded he was guilty of crimes against humanity, fake news and misuse of public funds. The senate would vote next week.

A combination of a bright full moon, painful wind and whirring mind made for a difficult night. I used the meditation soundtrack for some fitful sleep.

Big Mess

As was often the case, I thought I might be better by Thursday, but I was exhausted after the rough night. Depressed at missing another sunny day, I worked on writing while Phil went to the market for fish. The cut looking small, I decided on fish pie. Initially annoyed because I thought it would take ages, it was actually pretty quick thanks to a few cheats and very tasty.

52,009 daily covid cases (most in the under 20’s), was the highest since mid-July. Chris Smith said as 50% were asymptomatic, it was probably already 100,000. Prof Finn spluttered 200 deaths a day ‘was not okay’. Keir predicted it’d be March by the time the booster programme was complete. Anti-vaxxers went to Colchester Hospital, told staff they broke the law and the Nuremberg code, and the pope was the head of global business. Back to that Opus Dei conspiracy rot again!

On Newsnight, Brian Cox (not Count Arthur’s arch-enemy but fellow actor) called government handling of rising infections “a mess.” 10 year old tory Andy Bowie said MPs should wear masks in parliament to set an example. Kate Forbes retorted that wearing masks was basic, and infections were falling in Scotland where they stayed mandatory. After being corrected that cases were plateauing, Anas Sawar told her Scottish deaths were too high, they weren’t getting testing right, and there were spikes in schools with teachers and pupils still unvaccinated. Lamenting a larger Glasgow audience than the group she was allowed to teach, Prof Heather McGregor wished for fewer restrictions, not more and bafflingly, ‘to work with the virus’.

On Newscast, The C**t said infection rates and slow jab take-up among schoolkids was most worrying. WHO Dr. Maria Van Kerkhove, advised masks, social distancing, crowd-avoidance and working from home were simple measures. Recognising the challenge of exponential growth, she called for a moratorium on boosters until people in poor countries had at least 1 dose as only protecting our own population led to a false sense of security. Global social mobility allowed mutants to emerge and prolonged the pandemic, now projected to last until at least the end of 2022. She praised UK scientists for outstanding work, especially on variants. The C**t replied her advice was all very well but the NHS frontline was under pressure, cases WERE translating into hospitalisations (1,000 admissions on one day), we could see a ‘really bad situation’ over winter and government should act now to ‘turbo-charge teen vaccinations’. Fergus Walsh reminded us 5 million adults also hadn’t had a jab and accounted for 2/3 hospital cases.

Noisy traffic on a wet road woke me early Friday. Feeling slightly less ill, I did 10 minutes exercise then lay down again. As rain turned to sunshine, I turned to writing. I attempted to draft the guest blog and an article for the next issue of Valley Life magazine. Phil went to the co-op, after suggesting I should go with him to get out of the house. Vexed he seemed heedless of my debilitation, I retorted: “What a stupid thing to say! I would I if could!”

Over 8,000 in hospital and 180 deaths reported, sage bods said it wouldn’t be as bad as January but urged government to do the policy work now and be ready for rapid deployment of Plan B, to prevent the need for tougher measures. Boris maintained they weren’t yet ready to put the plan into action but it was under constant review and repeated we should all get the jab. Adam Finn of JCVI said something had to be done to prevent getting into a bad mess again. Ahead of COP26, Greenpeace Unearthed revealed lobbying by a number of countries to dilute climate change pledges; Australia and Saudi Arabia sought weaker targets for eliminating fossil fuels, Argentina and Brazil didn’t want people to stop eating meat.

On the set of Rust near Albuquerque, Alec Baldwin shot 2 crew members with a prop gun. Cinematographer Halyna Hutchins died and director Joel Souza was in a critical condition. A distraught Baldwin said no words could convey his shock and sadness. Shannon Lee, sister of Brandon (shot dead on the set of The Crow), said it should never happen. It later transpired it was only Hannah Gutierrez’s second film as armourer, there’d previously been near-misses, and crew members may have used the gun for target practice then failed to check for live rounds.

Smashing Pumpkins

Still tired and irritated by lack of sleep Saturday, I rose on wobbly legs to get tea then dossed on the bed. Phil making no moves either, I asked if he was hungry. “No, but I’ll do brekkie.” I spent the day editing the journal and Valley Life article and started to design a Christmas card. All the cutting out on Photoshop gave me head fug so I had to stop.

The town’s pumpkin festival all over telly Friday, the BBC Breakfast weatherman came to stand on the marina and a local reporter descended at teatime. The festivals’ climate change theme gave the friends’ son who’d walked to London a high profile with a pumpkin carved in his image and a chance to talk about the petition he handed in to Number 10, to be debated in The House 30^th November.

Feeling less fatigued Sunday, I made a big effort to go to town. Predictably rammed after the media coverage, I dodged my way to the market for 2 bagsful of knobbly veg including pumpkin, and weaved among punters in the packed square to watch the carving of a cheetah. A volunteer with trail maps tried to give one to a visitor, asking where he was from. “Darlington” “That’s some way. Did you see it on telly?” “Yes.” “People have come from everywhere this weekend.” I butted in to request a map and couldn’t resist adding: “I live here. Do you know we’ve got one of the highest covid rates in the country?” The volunteer nonchalantly replied he did.*

Fuming that no one gave a shit anymore, I went down the pedestrian street, over to the memorial gardens, past the cinema with appropriate coffee-cup pumpkins and onto the marina. A buzzing pocket indicated missed calls from Phil, who was in the square. Aching from carrying heavy shopping, I rested on a bench until he joined me for further perusal of the sculptures. In the park, small children gleefully vandalised an installation, nicking a top hat and bashing the defenceless fruits. Retreating via the canal, autumn detritus floated artily on the water and mushrooms sprouted from a makeshift compost heap. Looking edible, I wasn’t willing to risk it. Phil nipped in the co-op while I struggled home with the bags and cleaned the filthy produce. Phil offered to help when he got back so I asked him to dispose of a pile of recycling I’d created. Knackered, I slumped on the sofa. “Never mind, he said, “at least you got out.” “True. And the colours are very nice now.” So nice, it was hard to choose a photo for a haiga. I eventually settled on bright red leaves^I.

Peter Openshaw of NERVTAG fretted about another lockdown if we didn’t all get jabs and boosters. Budget & Spending Review leaks reported £7bn for city region transport, on top of £3bn for buses (although this later transpired to not be new money). A decision on the northern leg of HS2 still not made, some expected Rishi Rich to announce that too. Labour called the predicted re-invention of Sure Start a ‘sticking plaster’. Rishi came on Marr to say he was always ‘humble’ in the face of the virus. Refusing to commit help with the cost of living, he said he didn’t have a magic wand and we had to transition to normality after all the extra support such as furlough and school dinners – but would he give into Rashford’s repeated demands? Rachel Reeves wanted a VAT cut for utility bills. Politics North reminded us it was 7 years since the invention of the Northern Powerhouse. Politicians complained of no real plans for ‘levelling up’ and a tory MP said he was elected on a pledge to get Brexit done, but now what?

*Official figures indicated a spike in the area, particularly among younger people. Local media alarmingly labelled the town ‘anti-vax’ capital.

Reference:

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

Part 68 – Smash and Grab

“The point is that 60,000 people at the match sends a message to 60m, which is, ‘well, if they can meet together, why can’t we? If they’re rammed together and leaping up and down and hugging each other when a goal is scored, why shouldn’t we?” (Stephen Reicher)

As befitted the summer solstice, Monday was cold, grey and drizzly. The live-feed from Stonehenge was pulled as hundreds ignored advice not to go. I slept late until I heard Phil in the bathroom, did a few exercises and developed a strange muscle spasm in my back. When it eased off, we hugged and joked about his scratchy flowing locks. After chores and blog-posting, I darted round a strangely quiet co-op. Even though Phil had cleared kitchen surfaces, it took a while to sort groceries. Knackered, I collapsed on the sofa when there was a knock at the door. A man tried to flog us cavity insulation. I informed him we didn’t have cavities to fill. Phil cut his hair into a severe buzzcut. “You should have done that yesterday, tattooed runes on your forehead and danced on a hill at sunrise. That would scare people!”

Posing like a knob in a white coat at a vaccination centre, The Bumbler said 19^th July looked good for ‘Freedom Day’ thanks to vaccines. Covboost results expected by the end of August, plans for autumn boosters would come soon. Many questions arose: what age groups? were children included? which brands? could they be combined with flu jabs? Chris Hopson expressed ‘increasing optimism’ that inoculation had broken the chain between infection and hospitalisation. But queries over future variants remained. Not happy with a travel ban from Scotland to the North West without consultation, The Burnman whinged the whole world would hear Manchester and Salford weren’t safe and demanded compo. Sturgeon retorted she wasn’t interested in a spat and he could just pick up the phone. A meeting of social care leaders with Boris, The Cock and Rishi Rich reportedly postponed, they called for publication of proposed reforms before the summer recess, immediate cash ‘to avoid serious risks to support’ and further investment to be hastened.

Backache replaced by tummy ache Tuesday, it was an effort to get off the bed. I wrote off a planned extended outing and got depressed at missing a bright day. I worked on the journal and cleaned the kitchen. As I tackled the sink overflow, Phil came to disparage my methods. “When you do most of the cleaning, then you can criticise!” I yelled. “Tell me what needs doing and I’ll do it.” Not wanting to escalate the argument, I kept schtum. Phil had suggested a short walk but no improvement in my mood or fatigue, I dismissed the idea of going anywhere. “You’re enervated,” he observed. “Is that right? It’s one of them words that sounds the opposite of its meaning.” A min-update from the researcher revealed she’d indulged in ‘ethnographic noticing’ during 2 weeks off. “Staring out the window?” Phil chortled, “I do that a lot!”

We rushed dinner to watch the footie. Rahim Sterling scored the only legal goal. England beat the Czechs and finished top of the group. Meanwhile, Scotland lost to Croatia 3-1 and were going home. England would face Germany, France or Portugal from ‘the group of death’ in the first knock-out stage at Wembley a week hence. Trying to work out third place permutations defeated me. Some clever coffee-cupper likely responsible, it would be much simpler with 8 groups rather than 6. Phil suggested I tell UEFA. “Yeah, cos everyone’s a football manager! They’re probably inundated with that crap all the time.”

The almost-full moon rose above the treeline. We nipped out to take photos as the hippy with the dog (who now came to sniff us instead of barking) came by. A young neighbour gripping a brace of beer bottles slurred: “I can never take decent pictures of the moon on my phone.” I deduced he was smashed from celebrating the footie win. As Phil went back inside, atmospheric clouds lent a moody aspect to my final shots.

PCR tests in Yorkshire were extended to Sowerby Bridge, parts of Halifax and Leeds. Wakefield was added later. Authorities in Calderdale said they were almost top of the county league table as they tested more than other areas. The Cock promised pilots to scrap 10-day quarantine for the double-jabbed who’d been in contact with infected persons and for travellers from amber list countries (using daily testing instead) as soon as ‘reasonable to do so’. Not yet ‘clinically advised’, he couldn’t give a date. The Scumbag held a Q&A for paying subscribers on Substack. He said Boris saw ‘focus’ as a menace to his own freedom and we’d all head for bunkers in the hills if we knew how bad it was. So why didn’t he stay in the one on his in-laws’ Barnard Castle estate last year? Ahead of the Euro 2020 games, a member of the Scottish squad tested positive for covid and missed the match. His teammates weren’t required to isolate but 2 English players did because they chinwagged with him in the tunnel. Arguments ensued as to why football wasn’t defined as a ‘close contact’ sport. What about the sweaty dressing rooms? In Scotland, a move down to the lowest tier was delayed to at least 19^th July with possible lifting of restrictions by 9^th August, if vaccination milestones and other criteria were met. Lord Frost accused the EU of a lack of ‘pragmatism’ to make the Northern Ireland protocol work. DUP in-fighting led to leader Edwin Poots being forced out after 21 days, to be replaced by the only candidate, Jeffrey Donaldson.

Smashing It

Somewhat better but still fatigued Wednesday, I spent ages expunging dust in the living room. Preparing to go out in the Somewhat better but still fatigued Wednesday, I spent ages expunging dust in the living room. Preparing to go out in the afternoon also took ages and we were only going to town! Phil stood fiddling with his phone in the middle of the street. Waving ‘bye!’ I walked on and greeted an elderly neighbour. From the opposite riverbank, we heard the familiar sounds of busking. “What’s on the acoustic stage today?” quipped Phil. The hipster guitarist who’d disturbed our Saturday night, played to a small group by the water. Was it an exclusive backstage gig for groupies? After-school kids prowled the streets. Getting essentials in the convenience store, we danced to the radio. An Agatha Christie look-a-like ignoring the one-way system came and straight at us. Phil said she was a ghost. “How come we both saw her?” “Magic conjured by wandering teenagers!” Heading home via the main road, a heron landed under the bridge. Taking pictures, my phone did some weird multi-shot thing unbidden. God knew what of! In Oxfam, we danced some more and found socks for Phil. About to buy a DVD, I checked the condition to discover it scratched to nothing and fit only for smashing to bits.

New daily cases reached 16,135, the most since 6^th Feb. 82.5% of adults had a jab; 60% 2 doses. BBC Breakfast reported school absences due to covid trebled in a week and were the highest since schools resumed in March. Van Dam was chased by anti-vaxxer Geza Tarjanyi and a Taliban missile hit an Afghan hospital destroying crucial vaccine stocks. Rainbows lit up buildings in Munich for the last games in the ‘group of death’ and spectators cheered a man running onto the pitch brandishing a rainbow flag. Germany beat Hungary thus England would face their bitter rivals in the first knock-out round – of course! Although 60% of UK adults were immunised as opposed to only 30% of Europeans, Merkel said all Brits entering any EU country should quarantine (at least until Germans got their towels on sun loungers!) Would they be welcomed in London next week without having to do so?

Different rules in Holland saw a 5-day quarantine for Italy and Welsh fans turned away from Amsterdam airport. Ministers thrashed out a deal with UEFA to allow 60,000 spectators at Wembley. Cue more complaints of ‘mixed messaging’ and unfairness. While parents couldn’t even go to school sports day, culture minister John Whittingdale said it was legitimate under ERP and the ‘right time’ to test bigger events. Steve Reicher railed that 60,000 people crowded together at the match sent a message to 60m; if they can do it, why can’t we? Talks continued on VIPs not quarantining. Tui joined Virgin Atlantic, BA, Ryanair and Manchester Airport Group in legal action against travel restrictions and went to Westminster on a day of action to pressurise the government to reopen travel and provide targeted financial support. They were told they could access furlough and would have to wait for changes to travel rules. Grant Shats was hopeful the world could open up when they caught up on vaccines. According to my calculations, that was the end of 2022. So be it…

John Bercow defected to labour. Denying it was to be a lord, The Torygraph reported he lobbied Jeremy Corbyn for a peJohn Bercow defected to labour. Denying it was to be a lord, The Torygraph reported he lobbied Jeremy Corbyn for a peerage. Exactly 5 years after the Brexit referendum, Doncastrians (of whom 69% voted leave, the highest in the UK), couldn’t remember what day it was according to a Look North Vox pop. Following speculation that HS3 could be scrapped, tory toff woman on Daily Politics mouthed platitudes on Northern Powerhouse rail, triple-lock pensions and their recent by-election fail. Boris opened PMQs listing reasons why Brexit was great and thanking the armed forces. Local MP Craig Whittaker asked about ‘levelling up’ to get a curt reply that Calderdale Council needed to listen. Ian Blackford renewed calls for a public inquiry on how the tories dealt with the pandemic, claiming they used emergency covid contracts to commission political research from their mates on the future of the union and sanctioned corrupt campaigning, instead of to acquire PPE.

Awoken by loud doings from the canal works Thursday, I rose grumpily. I put on a summer dress for the first time this year to cheer myself up. On Jeremy Vine, snowflake and so-called commentator Dominque Samuels repeated her cretinous view that she should be allowed to go out and mix while those that didn’t like it stayed home and said she thought differently to other people. Maybe, but obviously not very deeply if the thing she’d choose to protest against was supermarket sarnies! As I tried to work on a frustratingly slow laptop, a different noise assailed my ears. I looked out the window to see the latest antics of DIY Don’t Guy on the street below. In recent months, his exploits included taking floorboards up and washing them with soap and water and using a massive axe to chop firewood. The stupidest yet, he and a mate smashed up a flimsy plywood desk with said axe. Mission complete, they cheered and whooped ‘smashed it!’ like they’d achieved an amazing feat and he raised the axe above his head. “I’d laugh if it fell on him.” “Yes, as you called the ambulance!” Phil added.

Walking Friend arrived mid-afternoon to pick up books and DVDs I thought she’d like. One a Disney cartoon, she good-naturedly told me to ‘eff off!’ but kept it. I made her coffee and we stayed outside to exchange news and views on health issues and the plague. Initially saying she was sick of people being careful, she later conceded rising infection rates indicated it wasn’t yet over. Phil joined us to discuss druids, standing stones and the right to roam. He took photos of clouds as a goldfinch chick hopped across the street to stop just behind his heel. Scared he’d step on it, I exclaimed: “Look behind you!” Obviously something wrong with the tiny thing, we dithered over what to do, rang a local vegan animal sanctuary, got no answer and consulted the elderly neighbour who advised against touching it as our scent would mean the brood wouldn’t accept it. His wife melodramatically exclaimed: “everything’s dying today!” I fetched gloves and a box to fashion a makeshift nest, when Phil got through to the animal lovers who arrived a few minutes later.

Bare-handedly picking the chick up, they said the smell thing was rubbish. It would be homed with birds of a similar age until fit to fly. Insisting we name it, I came up with the highly original Goldie. I assured the upset neighbour “It’s not going to die. The nice animal people took it.” Decorating Neighbour who’d just parked up quipped: “For a pie.” “Don’t be daft! They’re vegans!” (see below for photo).

Exhausted after another missed siesta, I faffed over Walking Friend’s coffee paraphernalia and made us a pot. In the evening, we failed to see the Strawberry Supermoon in a cloudy sky. At least we got some pictures earlier in the week. QT and Brexitcast mostly boring, Katya Adler revealed the German phrase for banger wars. ‘Wursthall Stillstand’ actually meant sausage standstill; sausage wars literally translated to Wurstkreig. All sorts churning round my head that night, the meditation soundtrack was of limited help.

Senior ministers signalled all legal restrictions would end 19^th July, Useless George looked forward to ditching his mask, but experts advised continuing measures to manage virus levels. Downing Street said they were still studying the data before a final decision. ALW joined others in the entertainment industry in legal action to make the government to share ERP findings. Rejecting a last-minute offer to include Cinderella as a test event, he accused Boris of ‘cherry-picking’ high profile sports. As if to prove his point, it was announced that Silverstone would host a capacity crowd for F1 on 17^th July. Mind you, outside sport was a different prospect than indoor theatre. He also wanted government-backed insurance, new rules on quarantine and clearer guidance for future operations. In limited changes to traffic lights, Malta, The Balearics, Madeira, Barbados, Bermuda and Grenada went green. Tour operators predictably wailed it wasn’t enough and holiday bookings surged even though the lights could change again at short notice. Unite called Lloyds bank closing 44 branches ‘baffling’.

Grab a Snog

Waking early Friday morning, I was too hungry to sleep more and also felt slightly ill. We laughed at people swimming in East London docks. Orange markers made them resemble bobbing buoys. Phil cleaned the bathroom while I made a start on decluttering the small room. I arrived at the co-op to realise I’d forgotten the list, rang Phil to read it to me then waited for him to help carry the shopping. Both starving and cranky by now, we ate a hasty lunch. I’d wanted to see how Goldie was getting on with the lovely vegans but was too tired to visit. Packaging still strewn around the kitchen floor late afternoon, I bit down my anger, cleared it up and relaxed with coffee. Courtesy of the £5 freezer deal, dinner was a pizza feast. I was about to ask for help switching stuff round in the oven when Phil scarpered. Struggling by myself, I shouted in frustration. He returned testily to the kitchen for me to berate him on a lack of help and cried: “You asked the other day to tell you what needs doing. You shouldn’t have to ask. You’re in the house as much as me!“ He shouted back “don’t shout!” and said he had to do “this thing called work.” “I know but not all the time!” Feeling awful after the row, I should’ve known on Tuesday it was only a matter of time before my frustrations boiled over. We calmed down with wine and films.

Days after hitting a grim 500,000 deaths, Brazil recorded 115,228 cases in a day. UK infections were up 46% in a week, 95% due to the Delta variant. Fast spread of the mutant led to a sudden third wave in Euro 2020 host city St. Petersburg. Streets packed, amid calls for a total lockdown, officials said get a jab of the ‘world beating’ Sputnik (only 11% of Russians had one so far). Results of ERP finally revealed, they showed 28 covid cases detected from 9 large-scale events April-May. Metro mentioned high compliance with mask-wearing and social distancing but not take-up of PCR testing before and after, which The Independent reported as low. Scientists advised treating the findings with ‘extreme caution’ as a result. How could it be a properly controlled scientific experiment if testing wasn’t mandatory for the 58,000 attendees? Chief advisers Nicholas Hytner and David Ross made no ‘conclusive public health recommendations on the reopening of events’. Kromek innovation detected virus in the air at Teesside airport. Why not elsewhere?

CCTV film of The Cock snogging close university friend Gina Coladangelo while grabbing her arse covered The Sun’s front page. Taken before lockdown easing in May, he was accused of hypocritically breaking social distancing. Amid calls to stand down, he apologised. Rather than sack him, Boris said he still had faith and considered the matter closed. Annalise Dodds exclaimed: “He set the rules, he admits he broke them. He has to go.” A labour spokesman added: “The PM recently described him as ‘useless’ – the fact that even now he still can’t sack him shows how spineless he is.” They were right but was it a worse crime than lying about PPE failures and elderly care deaths? Questions ensued on how the girlfriend got jobs as an aide and a non-exec director at DoH.

Grab a Jab

Youngest Brother turned 50 on Saturday. I posted an arty photo and joked he was catching up! Phil cut my hair, I draft-posted the journal, and nipped out to plant celery in the mini-greenhouse. Watering parched Christmas trees, I got covered in sticky plant seeds. The pesky embedded things took ages to pluck off my clothes. As Gran emerged from her daughter’s house, I went over to chat. She was sceptical the seeds were forget-me-nots but I couldn’t think what else they’d be. She updated me on her recent injury, feelings of malaise, and a return of our old local. “You should come down.” “Not sure I’m ready for that yet. We stick to pubs with more space. And as for the price of beer…” She went back in for gin and to watch her home nation In the first knock-out match of Euro 2020. Spattered with green plant goo, I washed the dress and got changed before sitting down. A totally outclassed Wales lost to Denmark 4-0. For dinner, Phil cooked the main course and I made a crumble for dessert, using up fruit past its best.

Unable to sleep late Sunday, I turned on the telly for the inevitable news. I considered going to the market, decided not to bother, took empty bottles to the recycling bin and saw a folder atop the community garden wall. Was it a leaked Whitehall file? (see below). I listened to music, did more de-cluttering in the small room and wrote a haiga. Phil made austerity roast for dinner, slightly different to last time. He had trouble cooking cabbage leading to interminable microwave pings. As I opened the door to heat up leftover crumble, a waft of fiery air hit me in the face and I discovered the metal side was red-hot. Scared to use it, I left him to put the pudding under the grill, which turned out to be a waste of time. Annoyed at profligate use of fuel, I fumed, while he sulked until we felt able to speak to each other again. I fell asleep quickly but woke in the early hours, absolutely parched.

Young people were urged to ‘Grab a Jab’ at walk-in centres for all adults not yet vaccinated. Stephen Powis stood outside the Emirates stadium to say only 10% of cases were now hospitalised. Mobile units also targeted hesitant groups. The extra capacity led to half of 18-29 year olds being inoculated by the end of the weekend. Just as well, seeing as hundreds of Leeds students partied in the streets of Hyde Park, dubbed Covid Central due to having the highest rate in the country.

Spineless Boris lacking the guts to sack him, The Cock resigned. The PM later claimed credit for the move. I agreed with Covid-19 Bereaved Families for Justice that he should have been ditched months ago for incompetence but thought reporting it to the police was pointless, even with the backing of Fleur Anderson. We subsequently learnt he used a private e-mail account for official business (why, if there was nothing to hide?) and left his wife the night before the story broke – what a coward! The Cock unaware of CCTV in his office, it emerged an anti-lockdown Whitehall whistle-blower handed footage to the press. Cameras subsequently disabled, Brandon Lewis pledged an internal inquiry into the leak’s source. Sajid Javid filled the vacancy. The Scumbag tweeted he’d ‘tricked the PM’ into sacking Saj from the Treasury. Otherwise there’d have been chaos.

Andrew Marr informed Sir Peter Horby (of Nervtag and Oxford Uni) he had covid last week, which explained his absence. Likely contracted at the G7 in spite of 2 jabs, Sir Peter told him he was unlucky and went onto suggest the data looked good for unlocking 19^th July. However, rises in Sydney and Israel due to the Delta variant led to lockdown in the former and a return to mask-wearing in the latter and should be a lesson. Warning of a double or triple whammy in winter with covid, flu and something else, he urged us all to get flu jabs. Other medics also predicted more winter flu because of less immunity. Again I thought, make your minds up! What if we all stuck to face- masks and social distancing? Witless looked like a frightened rabbit as he was accosted in St. James’ Park. An outraged Met investigated but made no arrests yet. Confidential MOD files were found at a bus stop in Kent, detailing the willy-waving mission of HMS Defender versus Russia in the Crimea earlier in the week. Labour said it showed the government didn’t do its job and could have jeopardised operations.

Reference:

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

Part 40 – The Wrong Stuff

“The Cold War was over long before it was officially declared dead. ” (John Le Carré)

V-Day

Totally bunged up Monday morning, I chanced going downstairs on wobbly legs to make porridge, struggled back up, and accepted I needed to stay abed. Oh well. It had been 7 weeks since my last bout of sinusitis; a good run for me. Later, Phil brought coffee and the laptop so I could post blogs and work on the next part of the journal, until my eyes went funny. Resting in the afternoon, horrid noises started up as my eyes shut. I unusually dropped off regardless, for almost an hour. Doubtless beneficial, the sleep rendered me woozy.

A loophole for pubs in tier 2 meant they could get round the dinner rule if they were classed as a music venue. I didn’t even realise that was allowed. Not that it would make any difference to most of us.Chuck Jaeger died, aged 97. Now there was a guy who definitely had The Right Stuff, unlike our so-called leaders, who had The Wrong Stuff!

Still ill Tuesday, shivers added to the symptoms. I couldn’t get warm, even if Phil claimed it wasn’t as cold as the day before. A huge effort to get off the bed, I had a bath, fetched coffee, and just got back in bed when there was a knock on the door. Stumbling downstairs in my dressing gown, I answered to find a kindly ‘elf’ from the Calderdale Community Carers with a goodie bag for me – how nice! Feeling a little guilty accepting the gift, Phil said: “Don’t. it makes up all those free pizzas you didn’t have during lockdown!” “That would be cheating! I wasn’t self-isolating, as I repeatedly told them.” I put the bag aside to open at a future indeterminate date.

I worked on the journal, developing the characteristic head fug. Phil went to the co-op. Somehow, he got the shopping lists muddled and bought all the wrong stuff. Annoyed, I calmed down to come up with a new meal plan so the missing items could wait another day. Afternoon siestas reverted to type. With no rest, I turned to reading The Big Issue I’d got at the weekend. Incredulous that much of the content whinged about lockdown and lauded herd immunity, I then realised it was over a month old. Much as I supported the primary aims of the magazine, I disgustedly threw it aside, vowing not to buy it again. The hastily revised dinner was a lot more work than anticipated. I forgot to cook accompanying spuds, became stressed and felt worse than ever.

Billed as V day, the first Pfizer vaccines in the world were administered to old people and NHS staff. A baby giraffe born at Whipsnade Zoo was named after trailblazer Margaret Keenan. As 2 NHS workers had allergic reactions, I wondered if I should be wary with my penicillin allergy. The Yorkshire Dales and North Yorks Moors were declared Dark Sky Areas, as starlings made murmeration shapes resembling swans and Christmas stockings at Fairburn Ings. “How do they know it’s that time of year?” I asked. “They know everything!” Intoned Phil.

Having a Laugh

Nasal symptoms eased off Wednesday, but I was still wobbly and fatigued. Using the wrong list meant no bananas for breakfast . Phil topped the cereal with frozen blueberries. They’d gone a bit wrinkly in the freezer but re-hydrated quickly in the milk. Jokes in the annual Gold TV competition, were mainly Covid and/or Christmas related. I didn’t agree with their top pick: ‘What’s Dominic Cumming’s favourite Christmas song? Going Home for Christmas’. But some had me in stiches.

On The Daily Politics, someone we house-shared with in London harped on about Brexit. Struggling to follow her egghead social media posts in the intervening years, it was hard to believe we were once friends with that weird woman! Self-isolating again, Keir took part in PMQs via zoom. With Brexit talks on a ‘knife edge’, he asked what happened to the ‘oven-ready’ deal? The Bumbler waffled about the withdrawal agreement but everyone knew that wasn’t the same as a trade deal.

Phil went to the post office on my behalf, then bought the right stuff from the shops he’d failed to get the previous day. Bizarrely quick, he reported no queues. Frustratedly unable to go out Christmas shopping, I trawled the internet and eventually found a gift. With limited clues on the condition of the item, I hoped I’d done the right thing and it wouldn’t be too shabby. Dinner became fraught again as spaghetti got poured down the sink.

Bradford University research into panic-buying concluded it gave people a sense of control. As we said this back in March, they could have asked us and saved loads of money! With a Brexit deal still looking dicey, controversial clauses of the internal market bill had been dropped and The Bumbler went to Brussels for dinner with Ursula Von De Leyen. Served scallops followed by turbot (i.e., fish and more fish), they were having a laugh. The soup should have been Vichyssoise not pumpkin, to reflect the German/French axis! Inevitably, there was no breakthrough but both sides vowed to keep talking until Sunday. Ports already jammed with containers in the wrong place because of the pandemic, and a ban on non-essential travel to Europe because of Covid restrictions, we predicted pandemonium after the likely no-deal Brexit. Little did we know it would arrive sooner than anticipated…

Ridiculously, Boris likened the EU’s insistence on a ‘level playing field’ to twins being forced to have the same haircut or buy the same handbag. Ursula poured scorn on the analogy, saying the UK would be sovereign to do what it liked, but there’d be consequences.

As the first of the Christmas cards arrived Thursday, we discussed the idea of doing a spoof ‘round robin’. Phil suggested listing all the telly we’d watched, but was hard-pressed to remember it all. I used the journal as a basis to summarise events. After 3 days work, I decided it was boring.

Brexitcast made some good points on why the EU wouldn’t back down. They knew the UK would further diverge from the bloc in future, thus wanted to agree the regulatory framework now. Liam Fox said it was nothing to do with trade but the rules, echoing my views on the dominance of France and Germany.

I started to feel better at bedtime and hoped to be well the next day. Alas, I tossed and turned. The meditation soundtrack sent me to sleep but I woke very early Friday, extremely fatigued after a fitful night. Resigned to another day in bed, stupid Microsoft proceeded to do yet another update. A notification said it would re-start in an hour even though I programmed it to do so overnight. Unable to re-schedule the shutdown, I got through a few minor tasks before the noon deadline, when it promptly turned off and spent 3 hours installing the blasted updates. Fuming at being unable to write, I managed a bit of tidying up and opened the gift bag from the caring elf, to discover it was mainly all food, including stale doughnuts. It was a good job I hadn’t left it until Christmas!

Naval boats stood by in the channel. Phil asked: “are we at war with France yet?” At the mindless briefing, Matt Cock announced school testing in London. Some also took place at a limited number of schools in Calderdale. Nowhere near on the scale as in the capital, this yet again proved the persistence of the north/south divide. Because he was a big loser, The Trump disgustingly acted like a despot, not granting the customary stays of execution for death row inmates. “He should be sent to the chair himself for that. He definitely has the wrong stuff!”

Left Out In The Cold

On the mend Saturday, I sat in the living room until late morning before returning to bed, still feeling very achy, tired and so cold! The gey drizzle didn’t help. I caught up by tasks left incomplete due to the computer update.

Terrible weather persisted into Sunday. Phil chanced the town centre. On mainly quiet streets, the kebab shop had migrated to an outdoor stall playing jolly Christmas songs, causing mirth. Overnight, I had an idea to re-work the boring ‘round robin’. I spent the day on ‘2020 – a year of the coronavirus by numbers’ which I hoped was funnier.

Sarah Gilbert of Oxford University predicted a rise in coronavirus infections in January after the permitted Christmas mixing, as had happened in the USA post-Thanksgiving. As cases in Germany rose to 3 times the number in spring, schools and non-essential shops shut and alcohol sales were banned, putting paid to their seasonal jollity.

On the day ex-spy and author John le Carré died, the latest Brexit deadline passed. Talks continued amidst varying claims of concessions by both sides, leading to speculation on a possible cold war. Or was that cod war? Ed Millipede got rather worked up on The Marr, saying “no deal is a disastrous outcome for the country,” and likened the governments’ stubbornness to bulldozing the house because it had a leaky roof. Rabid Raab complained of moving goalposts on the level playing field again. Why hadn’t the wimpy tories done what the hardliners wanted and ‘just left’ 4 years ago? We’d be over it and have a new trade deal by now!

References:

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

ii. ‘2020 – a year of the coronavirus by numbers’: https://maryc1000.blogspot.com/2020/12/2020-year-of-coronavirus-by-numbers.html

The Corvus Diaries

A Journal of the Coronavirus

Daily Politics