“Suella Braverman’s use of the word hurricane is intentional. It presents people as a threat, making it easy to commit acts of barbarism against (them). It’s sinister, it’s shocking, that that language is used by our Home Secretary” (Emma Dabiri)
Rishi Word Cloud
Vowing to review ‘hair-brained schemes’ such as ULEZ, Rishi Rich went to a scruffy-looking Salford 1st October to squirm as Laura K. quizzed him on tory Cornwall council wanting 20 mph zones, electioneering and HS2. Party members leaving in droves, including nice capitalist Richard Walker, minister’s conference speeches were shifted to a small auditorium but Shatts still had to fill the front row with aides.
Gill Keegan proposed to ban mobile phones in schools. Concrete crumbling and kids falling behind in their development due to covid lockdowns, it was good to know she was focused on the real priorities! The C**t said he’d raise the national living wage to £11, strengthen benefit sanctions and freeze civil service recruitment to cut £63,000 jobs, saving £1bn in 2024. Swellen warned of a hurricane of mass migration. Raucously applauded by acolytes, others railed at her reckless language. Alicia Kearns advised caution in the use of words. Totally delusional Trussed-Up Liz tipped up to urge ‘New Conservatives’ (yet another splinter group) to ‘unleash their inner conservative’.* She and Nasty Patel praised ‘disrupter’ GB news for taking on the establishment. Eh? They were the establishment! More enthusiastic clapping was followed by a Twitter backlash likening it to 1984. Patel then went dancing with Farage. The horror of the Nasty Duo could never be unseen!
Channel 4’s film Partygate brought some light relief. Its focus on the antics of Number 10 aides amusing, it shied away from implicating ministers. No doubt lawyers had something to do with that.
Having promised to make a ‘considered decision’ on HS2, Rishi used his conference speech, ironically in an old Manchester train station, to confirm scrapping the northern leg. The saved £36bn would be reinvested in transport infrastructure across the country such as ‘network north’ links, electrified train lines, Leeds trams and a new Bradford station – again! Pleasing Lee Anderthal who though HS2 ‘a load of nonsense’ and lauded by the faithful, he was lambasted by everyone else. Ex-PMs Boris and Camoron believed cancelling a project with cross-party consensus wrong and Will Wragg tweeted there was only one thing worse than a white elephant; half a white elephant. Tory mayor Andy Street who’d joined The Bunman in pleading for it not to be scrapped, almost resigned. Bunman was livid at treating northerners as second class citizens by making such a big announcement at conference. Tracy Bin called it a betrayal and Henri Murrison of Northern Powerhouse Partnership called it a ‘national economic tragedy’. The Budget destined to outlive Rishi’s tenure, he subsequently claimed the projects (some of which had already been built) were ‘illustrative’. Government unwilling to put a figure on funds available in the near future, they insisted HS2 would still reach Euston. It then emerged that was fully dependent on private investment. So like all Rishi’s decisions, money was the overriding factor, explaining the damning word cloud Laura K. confronted him with.
HS2 Cartoon by Matt
Despite Rishi reciting a gammon wish-list and idiotically saying ‘a man is a man, a woman is a woman, it’s just common sense’, even Daily Mail readers weren’t happy. Perhaps, like the rest of us, they didn’t believe any of the promised projects would actually happen or maybe they preferred the Nasty Duo.
Suspended over breaking coronavirus laws, Margaret Ferrier had been removed as Rutherglen MP and labour won the seat 5th October by a landslide. On QT, red wall tory Dick Holden denied Swellen’s rhetoric sounded like Enoch Powell. Irish writer Emma Dabiri considered it ’intentional, sinister and shocking’. After saying tories had ‘drifted out of touch’ during the cost of living crisis, failed to conserve the economy, high street, farming, rivers and seas, zero carbon obligations, schools or the NHS, Richard Walker expanded on why he left the party. He was also worried shopworkers, with already enough to do, would have to enforce new smoking laws. Emma Dabiri ended the programme talking about hyper-normalisation; the old Nazi trick of replacing the real narrative with a fake, simple one. Yep, that was what was happening alright!
On Laura K. 8th October, Curry’s boss Alex Baldock decried daft planning laws – the Chinese built a whole railway in the time it took to build a single UK factory. At the labour conference in Liverpool, Steve Reed told a fringe meeting tories were shit. Although her boss said a mess of ‘rehashed old promises’ rendered a future labour government re-committing to HS2 impossible, Reeves promised a review of the fiasco as well as a Covid Corruption Commissioner to recoup money, and a rebuilt Britain when she was chancellor.
In his oration, Keir said we’d had 13 years of things can only get better followed by 13 years of things getting worse but Britain could heal and get its future back. His new labour meant an end to sticking-plaster politics, a proper plan to fix tomorrow’s problems today, no more gesture politics and a party of service putting the country first. Promising big, he cautioned it needed a decade’s hard work – i.e., jam tomorrow. I doubt he won over the gammons with his plans to bulldoze local opposition to build 1.5 m houses. Jacketless and hair sparkling, he’d been pranked by a posh boy shouting about true democracy. The protestor was dragged out and put in a police van. We wondered what the charge was. Glittering in a public place?**
Glittering in a Public Place
*At a NewsXchange conference in Dublin a few months ago, Truss referred to the lettuce outlasting her Downing Street tenure as ‘puerile’ rather than real journalism. A bit rich seeing as she wasn‘t a real PM!
** People Demand Democracy (‘friends’ of JSO) later claimed responsibility.
“This was a day for ambition…but…the Tory cupboard is as bare as the salad aisle in our supermarket. The lettuces may be out, but the turnips are in” (Keir Starmer)
Everything, Everywhere, All At Once
Haiga – Open Sesame i
ONS figures released at the start of Mach were as frosty as the weather. Wages no longer rising as fast, 2.52 million were on long-term sick. Unemployment still low, there were slightly less vacancies. The UK avoiding a ‘technical recession’ 2023 according to the OBR, there’d be 0.2% less growth. On budget day, Abba’s Money, Money, Money drowned out reporters stupidly stood in Downing Street before The C**t emerged. Taking credit for an expected drop in inflation, he began an interminable statement by echoing Everything, Everywhere, All At Once (the film that swept the Oscars), promising a pile of ‘E’s – enterprise, education, employment and everywhere. Not listing energy, he extended the price cap until June, pledged to bring pre-payment charges in line with direct debits, gave funds to leisure centres and local groups towards their bills, and froze fuel duty for 12 months. More tax on wine from August, a so-called ‘Brexit pubs guarantee’ meant less duty on draught beer, covering Northern Ireland, thanks to the Windsor Framework. ‘Brexit freedoms’ also allowed a ‘near-automatic sign-off’ of new medicines. More dosh for looked-after children, care leavers and potholes, a measly £10m was given to suicide prevention. Wraparound childcare wouldn’t kick in until after the next election. He announced a second round of city region transport funding and extra money for Levelling Up partnerships, investment zones to create 12 ‘Canary Wharfs’ in areas like Manchester and West Yorks, for which they’d need to bid. I doubted it would mollify Yorkshire grandees. Incensed at getting Levelling Up round 1 dosh but not in round 2 mid-February, they whinged the goalposts moved after they submitted bids they were encouraged to write.
Intent on making us all work, he was abolishing the work capability assessment. It would be voluntary for disabled people to find jobs with support for workers suffering mental health and back problems before they left employment. On the other hand, UC claimants with no health issues faced more coaching, more rigorous sanctions and an increased threshold of 18 hours a week. Not hearing anything about ESA, I later discovered an end to sickness top-ups if ineligible for PIP from 2026. Targeting the over 50’s, there were ‘3 steps’ to make working longer easier: enhanced DWP mid-life MOT’s; new apprenticeships (aka returnerships); and increased pension tax allowance with abolition of the lifetime limit.
As per Pat Vallance’s recommendations, a ‘quantum strategy’ involved an AI sandbox, an ‘exascale’* computer and a £1m annual Manchester prize. Worth a mere £2.5bn, did they know how much that tech stuff actually cost?
Nuclear magically classed as environmental, Great British Nuclear aimed to generate a quarter of our leccy by 2050. Pitifully underwhelmingly in light of the IPPC report on an increasingly warmer world, Guterres said there was just about time to reverse climate change if we did ‘everything, everywhere, all at once’.
In place of witty Reeves, Keir responded there was nothing to tackle crime, NHS waiting times or the housing crisis, leaving the UK the sick man of Europe, stuck in the waiting room with only a sticking plaster and more disguised tax hikes. Referencing turnips, he obviously hadn’t heard we didn’t grow them anymore!
Liberals pointed to inflated high energy and food costs and the OBR reckoned we still faced the biggest ever fall in living standards. Timed to coincide with The C**t’s missive, strikers marched through London to rally in Trafalgar Square. The biggest walkout so far entailed doctors, teachers, civil servants, London underground staff and BBC journos, affecting regional evening news. I turned over from Fatty Dimmock to ITV. Having interviewed The C**t, Robert Pessimist said there was no way the budget could be seen as a giveaway, except scrapping the pensions cap, benefitting the rich. Not much for the rest of us, impact analysis by The Resolution Foundation showed the poorest would be better off and middle and high earners worse off. How did they work that out? Later in the month, their research revealed the true cost of a widening productivity gap compared to other European countries and ‘unprecedented’ 15 years’ wage stagnation; if wages had grown the same as before the 2008 crash, workers would earn an extra £11,000 p.a.
Party Games
Haiga – Turning Point
At the start of March, Cock Covid Diary collaborator Isabel Oakeshott, leaked 100,000 WhatsApp messages to the Torygraph. Revelations suggested the then Health sec didn’t follow Chris Witless’ advice spring 2020. On the morning of 14th April, Witless advised testing everyone entering care homes. By evening, official guidance changed to cover only patients discharged from hospital. The Cock furious, a spokesman claimed messages were ‘doctored and stolen to create a false story’: with insufficient testing capacity, they had to prioritise. Accused of breaking NDA, Isabel insisted the leaks were in the public interest. Countering they weren’t, The Cock railed they formed part of her anti-lockdown agenda. She asked Newscast, “what even is that?” Had she forgotten the demos? She didn’t worry about never again being trusted as she was good at what she did –Yep, good at playing the game, getting men to tell her secrets and promoting herself! In messages published over the next few days, we learnt The Cock dithered over whether he’d broke rules snogging Gina Colander, and resisting lockdown up to a week before its imposition, Boris subsequently ranted militantly on social distancing July 2020, a month after the birthday party he was fined for. Also, The Salesman called teachers’ unions a ‘bunch of arses’ who hated work. Mary Bousted retorted he was ‘out of his depth’ during the pandemic.
At PMQs, Keir harped on energy bills and massive profits before referencing the leaks, asking Rishi to assure the house of no more covid enquiry delays. The PM responded with the usual: we should let them get on and do their job.
On March 3rd, The privileges committee partygate investigation preliminary report, concluded Boris misled parliament multiple times. The Bumbler retorted there was no proof. Calling the report damning, Keir caused a row by offering Sue Gray the job of labour chief of staff. Doing the Sunday morning rounds, Chris Heaton-Harris laughably called Boris ‘100%’ a man of integrity. On 21st,Boris’ partygate evidence was released, predictably alleging it was all his adviser’s fault. The next day, he faced the committee, with a new haircut. After a rare oath-taking, he told them he believed gatherings were essential, his statements to the commons were made in good faith, it was nonsense that he didn’t take proper advice and, after losing his shit, thanked them for a ‘useful’ discussion – to much guffawing. A good day to bury other news, Rishi’s long-promised tax details revealed he paid ½m 2022 and 1m since 2019. Keir paying £118,580 over 2 years, he was accused by toires of hypocrisy for benefitting from the pension tax break, which he’d vowed to ditch
The Ripple Effect
Haiga – BST
23rd March marked the 3rd anniversary of lockdown #1. No mention on main news channels, the ripples of coronavirus continued to be felt. Metro revealed a 134% increase in ‘ghost kids’ missing school and Look North reported on the emotional impact with more young kids needing pastoral support. Patients in the region still dying (49 the previous week), 1.5 million suffered from long-covid. Prof Dinesh Saralaya of Bradford Hospitals who took part in several vaccine and treatment trials, warned covid hadn’t gone away and Prof John Wright of The Bradford Institute of Health Research said it would be with us forever. Providing the analogy of the after-effects of an earthquake, he described layers of those affected by death, long covid and recession. On the plus side, they’d learnt a lot so were better prepared for future mutations or viruses. It was easy to forget how lethal and scary it was 3 years ago, but we should celebrate the sense of community and connectedness it engendered.
As the clocks changed for BST, NAO revealed £1.4 billion worth of PPE was incinerated and £21bn lost to fraud. As Lithuanians were convicted of grifting £10m from the covid loan scheme, government pointed out they’d set up the Public Sector Fraud Authority. But it was criticised for ineffectiveness across departments. Amid reported tension between The Treasury and DWP, Mel Stride announced a delay in raising the pension age to 68 – because of unpopularity before the next general election, a drop in life expectancy, or more elderly people leaving the labour market post-covid?
Margaret Ferrier MP faced 30 days’ suspension from the house for breaking lockdown rules in September 2020. She later launched an appeal.
A Canadian review of 137 global studies published in the BMJ, found minimal changes in mental health during the pandemic and ‘more resilience’ than assumed but raised concerns that women suffered more due to care responsibilities and domestic violence. The FBI chief decided covid originated in a Wuhan government-controlled lab after all. The US legislature later voted to declassify all documents on the analysis of coronavirus. As Covid Diary workshop participants observed, it all seemed really weird now. Maybe they should let it lie!
“It has sometimes been observed that what leaders do for their people today is government and politics. But what they do for the people of tomorrow – that is statesmanship” (Queen Elizabeth II)
Pomp And Circumstance
Birthday Sunflowers
Phil started work at the convenience store on 1st September. I tackled chores and admin, ringing the GP surgery twice. 29th in the queue, I hung up to try again later to be 50 something in the queue! I didn’t have time for a third attempt before the booked pension advice call. The nice Moneywise man provided tons of info, giving me head fug. Going out for air, an acquaintance dumped garden waste. I bit my tongue, even though she was still doing it on my return. I got nothing on the rammed but sparse market but ordered smoked salmon from the fishmonger. Phil interrupted my writing in the evening, asking where AJs was (who delivered bacon butties to The Store staff). “No idea. Ask them!” A very early start Saturday, he got home knackered but with interesting facts about supplying local cafés and specialists sorting newspapers. How quaint! A fellow photographer mate who worked there years ago, wasn’t surprised to see him, but my old art teacher was. Well, he was a bit pompous.
After e-mailing siblings about my birthday fundraiser Monday, Elder Sis made a generously commensurate donation to mark my 60th and Big Sis donated a tirade on DEC corruption. I delayed replying to devise a diplomatic answer. As I hung washing, our old next-door neighbour and companion sat out, during a visit while the Polish woman visited her homeland. We shared tips on upcoming seaside trips and news of Phil’s job. She reckoned the boss was a bit of a B… Warm and sunny late afternoon, Phil asked if I wanted to go out. I snapped at another thoughtless interruption, he stomped off, but came back for an apology. Feeling uncomfortable, stuff to do and unable to think where we’d go at that time of day, I suggested sitting outside for vitamins. He squatted on the kerb chatting with old next-door neighbour. I joined in discussing health, languages, Europe and Brexit when The Widower came past. Next-door asked had he seen The Student? She then turned up with the rest of the tribe, having got back from Germany last week. “Zer gut!” The put-upon stepdad ferried stuff from the car. “Have you been camping?” “No, a cottage for a few days but we needed to take tons of stuff.” No idea why! Tuesday, workmen fixed the step at long last. Phil on the early shift again, in the afternoon, he rested and showered. “That’s better. I’ve got a week off, even though I’ve only been there a week.” “Yes but you weren’t supposed to be working till after our hols. Does it still feel weird going to actual work?” “Yes.” “It’s when it doesn’t feel weird you need to worry.” “Why?” “Cos you might give up other pursuits and think: ‘I’ll just work in the shop’.” “Like people in the pub?: ‘I used to be a photographer’.” “Exactly! It’s a slippery slope!” Starting Wednesday wobbly and itchy, I took medicines and persevered with housework. Phil amicably helped change bedding but unkindly mocked me tripping on the bedframe. I then slipped on a large letter on the doormat – more stupid pensions crap! Phil went secret shopping and I went to charity shops. Dumping books, I found nowt, but the community shop’s free school uniform rail was a good idea. In the evening, Phil insisted on toasting my birthday with fizz.
Birthday Card by Phil
Boris went to Suffolk to gush about £700 million for Sizewell C, 1 of 8 nuclear power plants, not yet agreed with EDF and not operational until the 2030’s. Blaming labour for lack of planning, he obviously forgot Gordy Brown signed off 10 new plants in 2009. As he also suggested we buy better kettles to save £10 a year, Rayner said he wasn’t living in the real world, evinced by him embarking on a farewell tour! On the new Laura K Sunday prog, having ditched her promise of no direct help, Trussed-Up (who I’d just discovered shared my first name in real life) said it was good that rich people benefitted more from tax cuts and she’d have the energy crisis sorted in a week.
Raucous applause from Joe Lycett, the Daily Mail were incensed at him mocking their incoming leader. He kept up the pretence on Jeremy Vine the next day. As Truss was crowned Queen of Gammons Monday, she said ‘deliver’ a lot, Nasty Patel resigned and Big Ben ominously stopped. A Cabinet from Hell included Swellen as home sec and Therese Coffee-Cup as health sec FFS! Jeremy Vine asked if the morbidly obese, cigar-smoking boozer was a good role model. Clearly not! Farage gin trended on twitter. At 7.30 a.m. Tuesday, The Bumbler orated on it being time to pass on the baton, likening it to a relay race when someone changed the rules halfway through. Look who’s talking! Invested at Balmoral Tuesday, Trussed-Up flew back to stand at a wet lectern and ape Churchill, saying she’d take action every day to encourage growth by cutting taxes, deal with gas prices and get us all GP appointments (if only!) In fact, nothing happened for a fortnight apart from a very boring PMQs.
Dutch scientists used data from the Cambridge University Covid-19 sounds app (ongoing for 2 years, I’d never heard of it), to develop one that could detect symptoms, possibly more reliably than LFTs. Bristol Zoo closed due to falling numbers during lockdowns. Tracy Dustbin announced the promised low West Yorkshire bus fares. Starting Sunday, the maximum single fare was £2 and a day fare £4.50. BBC breakfast highlighted the plight of those in sheltered housing not covered by the price cap and OVO energy founder Stephen Fitzpatrick published a 10-point plan including subsidies. Benefitting low income households, with less help for those who used more energy, he had some good ideasi. Unlike Edwina Currie, stupidly suggesting putting foil behind radiators. That’d do a lot of good seeing as we would hardly ever have the heating on; how about tapestries? The Guardian suggested cooking a baked potato in the microwave. Did they have Sean Bean’s recipe? The Which? column in Metro called for a minimum geographic baseline for access to cash. Almost 1,000 migrants intercepted crossing the channel Saturday, refugee minister Lord Harrington resigned saying the job of helping Ukrainians in need was done. As it was revealed Shamima Begum was smuggled into Syria by a Canadian spook, lawyers challenged the removal of her citizenship on the grounds that she was a trafficking victim. It reminded us of a film we saw where those nasty Canadian spooks left a kid rotting in a Thai jail.
Orangeoke
Scary Orangeoke
Alcohol and insomnia led to a groggy start Thursday 8th. Phil also discombobulated, he made 3 attempts to say happy birthday. I treated myself to a mini-spa while he fetched the salmon to cook a posh brekkie. Pouring the end of the fizz for a toast, we had 1 sip and spent the morning trying to finish it – we couldn’t hack morning drinking anymore! He made a card from a cute classic car photo, complete with number plates labelled ‘Happy Birthday Mary’ and matching gift tags for more pressies than I expected. After unwrapping, I read Facebook messages and sent one to a cousin who shared my birthdate. Walking Friend called with sunflowers and a gift bag of goodies before a filling 2-course lunch deal at The Cypriot. Fuddled by cocktails, we palavered over splitting the bill and finished the drinks out on the street. Too quiet for after-school time, the reasons became clear later. Walking Friend came back for coffee, cake and Count Arthur Strong on DVD. Facing the grim prospect of coming home between rail strike days, I didn’t blame her for not visiting us in Scarborough the following week. Unbeknown to us, industrial action was postponed, explaining no altered schedule, but a medical emergency at Scarborough station delayed our return. Feeling stuffed and sleepy, I managed to edit celebratory photos and take a phone pic of a postcard stuck on the bedroom mirror, but recreating the vintage North Cliff view proved nigh impossible. The friendly seaside town offering much more than we remembered from our youth, we had a great holiday, avoiding scary Orangeoake at an unfathomable loyalist pub! (See Cool Places 2ii).
Cliff View by Me
The queen’s demise confirmed at 6.30 p.m., Phil reckoned she died around 3, hence the hush, the royals flying to Balmoral and the palace saying she was ‘under medical supervision’ (a euphemism for euthanasia; protocol to prevent hanging on). Weirdly only 2 days after investing Trussed-Up, not only had a monarch never died in our lifetime before, a new PM and King in the same week was unprecedented. I’d never forget the date but at least I dodged a big 60th celebration which would’ve been totally overshadowed.
Cue interminable toadying and suspension of parliament – so much for deliver, deliver, deliver! Saturday’s proclamation by King Charles III a load of pompous guff, it was historically made public for the first time. Appointed leader of the house and lord president of the privy council only 4 days ago, Penny Mordor led proceedings. It was followed next day by proclamations across the land (hence spotting a man in a funny hat in Scarborough), a King’s address Monday at Westminster Hall to both Houses, and Jeremy Vine observing Queenie had met more people than anyone else on the planet. By the week’s end, queues to see her lying in state grew to 24 hours, snaking into Southwark Park and forcing its closure. Among the throngs, a woman unbelievably with her mum’s ashes, David Beckham and Jacinda Ardern filed past. Jacinda subsequently gushed about the dead queen to Laura K, who showed a good snippet of her saying doing stuff for people today was leadership, but doing stuff for tomorrow was statesmanship. Touché! That’s why there were no statesmen these days. In contrast to the virtue signalling, Philip Schofield and Holly Willoughby were accused of queue-jumping. Defending their actions as a segment for This Morning, Holly was in bits. Sky News presenter Sarah-Jane Mee mistook people protesting The Met fatally shooting Chris Kaba for royal mourners, prompting 598 Ofcom complaints.
Cliff View Vintage
The least global deaths since March 2020, WHO Dr Tedros saw the end of the pandemic in sight. Having clicked links in texts received before our hols to find covid boosters unbookable, Look North urged so to get them! SNP MP Margaret Farrier received 270 hours community service. GDP rose 0.2% in July; less than expected because of the heatwave.
Retail sales fell 1.6% in August and the pound fell to a 37-year low of $1.13. Unemployment down to 3.9% in the last quarter, inflation was 9.9%, mainly because petrol fell 7.5% but food prices went up 1.5%. The John Lewis Partnership ‘forgo profit’ to give staff £500 each and raise starter pay by 4%. Amazon warehouse staff in Coventry were balloted on strike action. An EU windfall tax would raise more than €140bn towards energy bills. Meanwhile, the UK government said post-Brexit Northern Ireland border check suspension would continue and promised to backdate support for businesses, giving no details. Rich twat Chancellor Kwasi Modo planned to lift the bankers’ bonus cap. Labour 17 points ahead in some polls, idiot Lizzie Chat-show said they had one problem: Keir Starmer who didn’t even know what a woman was. Say, what now? At the party conference, Keir pledged to create a state-owned Great British Energy corporation to invest in green infrastructure, gain independence from Russia, drive growth and create a million jobs. IMF watching the dire UK situation, he said the tories had not only failed to fix the roof but “ripped out the foundations, smashed through the windows and blown the doors off for good measure.” He was met by standing ovations and a race row as MP Rupa Huq was suspended for calling Kwasi ‘superficially black’. She stopped shy of calling him a coconut and later apologised for ‘ill-judged comments’. Ukrainian gains in Kharkiv, Olena went to Strasbourg for the EC president’s state of the union address where Von Hitler said Vlad the Impaler would fail and declared solidarity with Ukraine, and husband Vlod went to Izium, crashing his car driving back to Kyiv. Turkish cargo ship Anatolian was allegedly fired on by Greek coastguards. New Met chief Mark Rowley started work.
A Huge Gamble
Beachside Panorama
Tired from the prolonged train journey, I’d retired early Friday and spent most of the weekend writing up diaries, editing photos, washing and buying groceries. After sitting around for 3 hours Sunday, Phil declared he didn’t have time for lunch before his shift. Irked by unnecessary stress, I fed him coffee and cake then tidied the garden, seeing The Student to-ing and fro-ing in different coats in case it rained. Unaware The Woman-Next-Door sat in her parked car, she made me jump opening the door. Her Polish trip part holiday, part treatment for olfactory issues, she was a veritable ‘I saw you coming’ mug for every New Age therapy going! Fatigued, I went back in but at least I’d had fresh air and social contact.
Monday declared a Bank Holiday, media covered nowt but the dead queen. Deathly quiet, we heard 1 car, 1 train and bickering crows. Even The Store, open on Christmas day, shut 10-1. I stuck telly on as the state funeral procession set off from Westminster Hall for the abbey service with posh singing and an idiotic speech from Trussed-Up. The gun carriage slow-march to Admiralty Arch interminable and hypnotic, we wondered where all the Quality Street soldiers came from. World leaders told to catch the bus, Uncle Joe brought The Beast and Queen Margarite of Denmark caught covid.
Forcing myself to rise Tuesday, I made good progress with the new ‘corvus papers’ method. Phil asked if I needed any shopping. “Yes, There’s a list. I suppose you want smoking stuff.” “Yes I was going to town but I’ll go co-op.” In the end, he went on his errand then met me to help carry groceries and call me cheeky for chucking things in his rucksack. Still avoiding fuel use and experimenting with clothes-drying techniques, I realised I’d worn the same socks 2 days solid! Wednesday, I did boring stuff and Phil worked late. Slamming the front door on his return, the living room door swung open, bringing in a mass of cold air. I didn’t get warm all night. After cleaning the bathroom Thursday, I collapsed on the bed with a sigh. Phil asked what was wrong;, leading to a tirade on the wearisomeness of everyday life. Hard getting back to normal after the break, I’d just started to feel less overwhelmed by drudgery, when he’d dropped the bombshell he was working all next weekend. It wasn’t his fault but an inability to plan was stressful. He promised to ask why he was doing far more than the alleged 16 hours a week, made coffee and proffered choc biscuit misshapes, which he’d got from The Store (along with 3 packs of gammon steak) and already scoffed loads. Going to town, beech nuts on the street crunched beneath our feet and confetti festooned the old bridge. He checked his shifts and I perused the market. Toiletries scant, I scowled at a woman with sharp elbows rudely stretching over to pay while I was transacting. My mind went blank buying veg. Phil caught up to take photos of Chantilly carrots, making Jolly Veg Man laugh. As Phil strode across the square towards a parliament of corvids, I felt faint, flopped on a seat and decided lunch was overdue. Going home via the new bridge, he mused: “what’s in the river today?” “Ducks, sticks, an air freshener, an orange plastic thingy, a carrier bag…it’s like one of those memory games, or dementia tests.” Maybe I needed one after the brain freeze! QT from Grimsby the usual unbalanced nonsense, loony Clare Fox who started out in the RCP and ended up a tory-nominated peer, got too much airtime. On Newscast, rich git Cobra Billamora looked forward to the mini-budget giving him more dosh.
Friday 22nd marked the autumn equinox. Seeing a light on early morning, I assumed Phil had gone to work, turned it off, then heard him rise. Checking the clock, it was actually 6 a.m., not 7. He later complained I’d woken him but got his own back waking me at 5.30 the next day. I exchanged texts with Walking Friend about free curry, The Poet’s fire party and a cinema trip. Shopping in sunny warmth, I felt overdressed, especially as Woman-Next-Door sat out in a sundress. Another neighbour also too hot, she’d prematurely stowed her summer clothes. I’d not even washed mine after our hols! At least my swimming cosi was unused, unlike the Scarborough Diving Belle. I potted a cutting in a cute pot for Walking Friend then got achy and tired pruning.
Diving Belle
GP numbers still dropping and seeing one impossible, Therese Coffee-Cup said there was too much variation in the care people got across the country, and unveiled underwhelming plans for the NHS including a 2-week wait to see a GP; it was 2 days in 2010! Coming up with a moronic ABCD mantra (ambulances, backlog, care, doctors and dentists), she promised £15m more for carers and pension changes to stop doctors leaving the NHS. Holidaymakers were urged to cash in vouchers worth £30m before they expired at month’s end. Dunoon grammar school, Argyle, was shortlisted as among the best in the world for community help. Kids had streamed bingo into care homes during lockdowns and presented ideas to Cop26.
A cap would halve firms’ energy bills for 6 months from 1st October. Long-awaited and welcome, businesses wanted more, but Rees-Moggy said they’d have to wait. Cost estimates varied from £25-40bn, depending on gas prices, on top of £150bn household support. IFS predicted £231bn government borrowing this year and debt rising for many to come. Reckoning the UK was already in recession, BOE raised interest to a 14-year high of 2.25%. At the UN in New York, Trussed-Up told the BBC she was prepared to be unpopular for ‘taking difficult decisions’ such as allowing bigger banker’s bonuses, to ‘attract investment’ and grow the economy. Labour said it was the wrong priorities. Doing 2 weeks’ business in 3 days, amid a glut of government proclamations, Rees-Moggy lifted the ban on fracking in England. Dismissing earthquake concerns, even as one happened in Mexico, INEOS claimed reserves could equal the North Sea. No cheaper and not enough for everyone, Greenpeace called for a nationwide solution to the energy crisis.
Trussed-Up gloated on the front bench as Kwasi Modo presented his Kamikaze budget. Besides what we already knew, he postponed the alcohol duty rise, increased the stamp duty threshold to £250k, cut basic income tax by 1p, abolished the highest 45% rate and defended banker’s bonuses as we needed global banks here, not Frankfurt. Total tax cuts equating to £45bn, Universal Credit claimants earning less than £142.50 a week (15 hours on the living wage) must prove they were trying to work more or face benefits cuts! Rachel Reeves called it the last roll of the dice after 12 years of tory failure, by “desperate gamblers in a casino chasing a losing run.” Allowing huge banker’s bonuses while axing nurses’ pay, Frances O’Grady wanted to know what planet they were on. Wearing ludicrous clod-hoppers with a suit, Kwasi told Chris Mason there was technically a recession but hoped it’d be shallow and then denied there was one! His former boss, hedge fund manager Crispin Odey, confirmed Phil’s belief that crashing the pound was a deliberate ploy to benefit his rich scummy mates by cashing in on betting against it, and gilts. Economists thought vastly disproportionate gains for the wealthy may artificially boost the economy but if the BOE responded with bigger interest rates, could prompt a boom and bust cycle. Avanti restoring some west coast services, RMT would strike again 8th October. 30,000 had made dicey channel crossings this year.
NY attorney general Tish James accused The Trump and 3 sprogs of fraud by exaggerating how much they were worth. An appeal court ruled the papers could be reviewed and Trump bragged he could declassify state documents ‘just by thinking about them’. Referenda to be held in Russian-controlled regions of Ukraine, Vlad the Impaler openly accused The West of nuclear blackmail and announced a major escalation mobilising reservists, to ‘defend the motherland’ and ‘liberated territories’. 13,000 anti-war protestors were arrested and amid a rush to escape the call-up, queues formed at borders, outbound flights were full and Ruslan Zinin shot a military official at a Siberian enlistment office. At the UN, Uncle Joe called the referenda a ‘sham’ and the war ‘brutal’. Reports later emerged of households being forced to vote at gunpoint and Ukrainians fleeing Russian-controlled areas to avoid fighting fellow countrymen. On her way to meet Uncle Joe, Trussed-Up announced the return of 5 British nationals, thanks to Vlod and Saudi Arabia. As the sea monster in Weston was finished in the last days of Unboxed (aka Brexit Festival), Julian Knight of the DCMS committee, questioned how many visitors the ‘monumental waste’ had attracted. Creative director Martin Green insisted it was value for money. 95% of 12,800 saplings planted by Gloucester City Council to celebrate the jubbly, perished during the hot summer because there was nobody to water them.
At A Crossroads
Cute Jackdaw
Saturday, I went to a print fair at the town hall, to compliment The Printer on an image of Scarborough (similar to my photo panorama), speak to another affected by the fire and quiz a third on her etchings. I mooched round charity shops, the crap market where a posh woman exclaimed: ‘ooh mushrooms! Just like the dress I bought last week!’ (she meant toadstool earrings) and the wavy steps (eyed by a cute jackdaw). All heaving, I sought quiet in the library where an old pub mate exiting helpfully told me it was closing in 10 mins, confirmed by a notice. I got reduced items from the rival convenience store and lay in wait for Phil. As I hid in a doorway, a hippie parked her car with taped-over lights on the double-yellowed junction, went barefoot into The Store and emerged with a vape (aka the new crack). The plethora of highway code infractions almost tempted me to report her. Finishing at 3 on the dot, Phil headed up the street. I yelled “Oi!” We wove through the packed square to sit riverside and chat. Though a challenge lugging ice at 7.00 a.m., it was quite jolly on a Saturday and didn’t feel like a full working day (no commute helped). The NHS had sent me a birthday gift of a home testing kit. Sunday, I duly put poo on the stick and set out to post it. Drumming as soon as I left the house, the handmade parade was in full swing. Just my luck! Picking what I hoped was a less busy route, I was hemmed in by crowds, fought my way across the square and looked for the post-box. Remembering it went years ago, I bought knobbly veg and nipped in The Store where Phil was re-stocking shelves. “Have you *** seen it out there!” “Shh! Don’t swear!” “Sorry, see you later.” Over at the post office, there was no evading the parade as it went down the cul-de-sac. I knew it was a fun family event and I was being peevish but the throngs and drumming made me weary and headachy. Narked by Phil’s lack of sympathy later, I conceded he must be more knackered after 3 earlies on the trot.
Monday a chilly mix of sun and showers, one literally stopped after our house! Still tired, I struggled with a communal food wastebin that wouldn’t shut. Fixing the hinge, I muttered. The Widower appeared: “Talking to yourself?” “Yes, it’s the only way I get any sense, ha, ha!” Ahead of the new price cap, Octopus Energy boss Greg Jackson urged Ofgem to lower standing charges and BG helpfully e-mailed that our bills would be over 3 grand next year. Not if I could help it! I sent meter readings forthwith. Sleeping later Tuesday, I briefly felt the benefit, shopped speedily in a tranquil co-op and sorted documents to renew a PTL,* faffing to print a profile pic (needlessly, as it turned out). During a cold night, loud machinery disturbed me and condensation coated the windows Wednesday. I put the heating on for the first time in months, hoovered discarded cobwebs and spider skins and exchanged a string of texts with Walking Friend, agreeing to meet in the library before free curry. Then Phil messed with the hoover, claiming I’d missed a cobweb, then the Ocado driver rang to say he’d be early. Head spinning, I managed a few notes before the jolly Geordie arrived. Phil was asked to work earlier for a colleague’s GP appointment (how did she get that?) Soon after going, he phoned saying it was next week. “Shall I come home or sit in the sun? It’s nice out.” “Just chill then.” Also wanting sunshine, I took chilli plants out to repot but defeated by entangled roots, gave up, and went to town.
Infantile graffiti covered the squat’s boarded-up windows. The Ice Cream rep didn’t turn up in court next day, so the anarchists weren’t evicted. In the library, I was told to renew my PTL online. “Where are the collection points?” “Not sure. Do you need an orange dot?” “Yes.” “I’ll look in the drawer.” The librarian kindly made the pass for me (minus photo after the palaver) I chose a book and returned to the desk to find I was de-registered. Re-registering took longer than getting the pass! Meanwhile, Walking Friend arrived. We discussed Scarborough and what to expect from free curry night. Seeing nobody at the front of the chapel, she suggested we go to the side entrance where a woman I recognised from Vegan Friend’s pre-covid party greeted us. Walking Friend uneasy accepting charity, I searched for my mates to put her at ease but saw no sign of them. Three lovely people took our order, then repeatedly apologised for the wait. The room’s buzz Initially enjoyable, as it filled up, the noise made me light-headed and fatigued (not helped by a missed siesta). Chaotic and too many helpers, I ditched the idea of volunteering in future. We made for the exit, told an acquaintance to watch out for cardamoms and heard someone ask if there were containers for the cake. “Cake!” we cried in unison. The door-greeter opened a side door for easy access to the cake table where there was also a donation tin. Inviting her in, I assured my friend I could cope with a cuppa and cake despite tiredness. We nattered some and I gave her the plant cutting before she wended home via the hidden path before dark. Finding her scrunchie on the bathroom floor, I thought I’d better wash it.
Stunned by another long sleep Thursday, I ignored my woes for a walk and lunch at the Hilltop Village, agreeing with a friend en route, on the awful state of the country and the joys of life on a stunning autumn day (see Cool Placesiii). In a bright night sky, Neptune and Pluto vied for attention with a glowing orange Jupiter (at the nearest point to Earth for 59 years). Plagued by backache, I needed the meditation soundtrack to aid sleep, then got woken in Friday’s early hours by Phil getting up and a racket outside. Knowing the pretty but yellow watery dawn presaged a wet, grey day, I dug out a parka before venturing out. The co-op quiet again, my namesake asked was I going walking? “Not in that! But it’s warmer out than in the house without heating.” I agreed we’d need it sometimes to prevent mould and burst pipes.
Autumn Scene
Concluding coronavirus killed an A&E worker, a coroner was flummoxed that only staff on red wards got face-masks in May 2020. According to Zoe Health Studies’ Tim Spector, hospital admissions were up 37% on the previous week, the highest since 19th August. A 7% rise in fatal road crashes in 2021 was blamed on lockdown easing. Trickle-down economics a pile of poo and markets jittery, the pound fell further against the dollar and OBR forecasts hinted at U-turns. They promised an economic forecast by 7th October but after Trussed-Up joined Kwasi in meeting them, she said it wouldn’t be made public ‘til 23rd November when they unveiled further plans. Lenders stopped offering low-cost mortgages.
As footage of her saying Brits needed more graft was unearthed, Rayner told conference the PM didn’t care about working people and we were at a crossroads akin to 1997. Labour Left Internationalists called singing God Save the King a ‘doubling-down on monarchism’, ‘almost comic’. Ed Millipede mocked Rees-Moggy’s ‘energy policy for the 1820s’. BBC tips to save money included cooking with a microwave rather than an iron! (sic) Online searches for ‘energy bill help’ the highest ever and ‘food banks near me’ up 250%, Jon Ashworth pledged labour would freeze prices, paid for by windfall taxes. The BOE stepped in to buy UK gilt bonds, leading to an immediate fall in long-date yields and lower public borrowing rates. Was it enough to prevent a Northern Rock-style run on pensions? Should I have cashed mine in? Former gov Mark Carney said Kwasi’s ‘partial budget’ was at cross-purposes with the bank. Referring to ‘ministry of the talentless’, witty Rayner said: “Liz Truss has even crashed the pork market. Now. That. Is. A. disgrace. You’d think snouts in the trough was the one thing they could manage.” MPs demanding urgent recall of parliament to face questions on running the economy down, Trussed-Up did a round of car-crash local radio interviews to be flummoxed by simple questions, witter about freezing energy costs and blame Vlod and the world for turbulence. WTF! Was she just thick or dropped on her head as a baby? Rayner quipped she’d: “finally broken her long painful silence with a series of short painful silences.” A YouGov poll put labour 33 points ahead. Gammons still thought we should give her a chance. Government ignoring demands for a 10% pay rise, at least £15 per hour and not cutting 91,000 jobs, Mark Serwotka said the PCSU had no choice but to ballot 20,000 civil servants. Sales up 18.7% in the last quarter, Aldi, now the UKs 4th biggest supermarket, pledged to put people before profits and build 16 new stores. Turning down public money to keep it open, Peel Group would wind down Robin Hood airport from 31st October. 32 Wetherspoons pubs including Halifax would shut. How’s Brexit working out, Tim?
A complexity of issues culminated in large-scale disorder in Leicester mainly involving young Asian men. One person convicted, cops said further arrests could go on for months. SML put the strife down to tensions between Sikhs and Muslims, started by a football match in August. Others blamed fundamentalists from outside the city stirring it. New HO minister Swellen told police to do their jobs properly.
Helped by blast-from-the-past Berlusconi, far-right Giorgia Meloni (aka Molly Malone) was set to become Italian PM. Amid covid restrictions and geopolitical tensions, Apple switched manufacture of the iPhone 14 from China to India. Russian gas pipeline leaks made bubbles in the Baltic Sea near the Danish island of Bornholm. Sabotage was suspected. At a signing ceremony to incorporate 4 eastern regions of Ukraine into Russia**, a concert for an invited audience in Red Square drowned out the international outcry. NASA slammed a min-fridge-sized spacecraft into asteroid Didymos-Dimorphos. DART successfully hit it off course, astronomers spotted increased brightness, but it’d be weeks ‘till we knew if the space rocks’ orbit was shortened. Scarborough planned to a centre of excellence for cyber-security – obviously building on the legacy of GCHQ Scarborough which we learnt about on our visit.
Queenie’s death certificate confirmed the cause as old age and the time as 3.10 p.m. Phil was right! Michelle Pfeiffer was heartbroken by the passing of Coolio, of Gangstas Paradise fame. The majority of Northern Ireland residents Catholic for the first time ever, a referendum on a united Ireland was probable. The Orangemen didn’t factor in Catholics breeding like rabbits when they rigged the borders, did they!
“This stinks of a cover-up by Number 10. Even Richard Nixon believed a country deserves to know whether their leader is a crook” (Ed Davey)
Dirty Dozens
Haiga – A Moment of Calm
The storm moved to the east coast Monday, leaving the valley mostly calm and bright. Posting a haigai and the journal took most of the day, excepting lunch and essential chores. Due to the weather, mounds of recycling littered the house. Phil helped with disposal. One eye on the news, he précised the Sue Gray report but as the incomplete document was 12 pages (less if you ignored ‘this page intentionally blank’), I read it myself.iii
Specifics missing, Gray berated the culture at the ‘heart of government’, failure of leadership and judgement, unprofessional consumption of excessive amounts of alcohol, inappropriate use of the Number 10 garden, and concluded rules weren’t followed. As operational structures hadn’t kept pace with expansion of the PM’s office and staff felt unable to report concerns, ‘lessons to learn’ should be addressed immediately. The Bumbler began his commons statement with another vacuous apology, saying he understood people’s anger, and he’d fix it by reviewing codes of conduct and creating an Office of the PM with a permanent sec. – would that address the accountability vacuum? He then blathered about government achievements. Keir responded Gray made ‘the most damning conclusions’ with a PM under criminal investigation and making people feel like fools, although they shouldn’t as they saved lives. Quite! I kept saying those who stuck to rules did the right thing and should stop whinging they didn’t hug! Phil asserted we were locked down to keep tory toffs safe. The comment from Carrie’s party mate 13th November seemed to support that. Keir alleged Boris wouldn’t resign because he was ‘a man without shame’. Boris called that ‘a tissue of nonsense’ but others echoed pleas for full publication of findings. Andrew Mitchell withdrew his support and Ian Blackford ejected himself after repeating Boris broke lockdown rules and ‘wilfully misled parliament’.
Of the 16 ‘gatherings’ in scope, The met were looking into 12 (8 in Downing Street and 4 in the cabinet office)*. With 300 photos and 500 documents of the ‘Dirty Dozen’, they pledged to fast-track the investigation within weeks. At an emergency meeting of tory MPs, Boris allegedly banged the table screaming he’d nearly died of Covid. Trussed-Up Liz was spotted without a mask, later tested positive and wouldn’t accompany him to The Ukraine. As he’d cancelled a planned call to Vlad, David Lammy said it was an example of the ‘real world consequences’ of the distraction and Layla Moran complained: “This is the man who picked pleading with his backbenchers over talking tough to Vladimir Putin.” Meanwhile, Hong Kong politician Caspar Tsui resigned after being discovered attending a banquet. Our leaders could learn a lesson there! On Newsnight, small minister Paul Scuzzball contrarily argued that as Boris was at deaths door, he understood the issues! Tory activists said with no contrition and no confidence, his days were numbered. Journalists agreed, seeing the interim report as a ‘series of smoking guns yet to come’. I looked forward to the adaptation of Sue Gray and the Party Detectives into a Netflix series or, more likely, a low-key Brit flick!
Two years after the first hospital admissions of covid patients in Newcastle, NHS bosses warned of frontline staff quitting if forced to have jabs. Ministers said the policy could be ditched after consultation, including for social care. Would the 30,000 sacked workers return? Several areas of Beijing underwent lockdown and daily testing ahead of the Winter Olympics. Back-to-back storms forced the Thames barrier to close, blew lorries over, hampered train services and left 45,000 homes power-less. Winds reached 90 mph in Stonehaven where unhappy residents whinged this was the second time since November. In The Great Drain Robbery, thieves stole 160 cast iron drain covers in Doncaster to sell for scrap.
Cleaning out the fridge Tuesday, I found chilli jam so old mould erupted on the lid, a lump of ice in the runnel and a puddle beneath the crisper drawer. I spent ages scrubbing a minging juicer stored on top. The days long gone when chucking 40% of our fruit in the form of pulp was a good idea, we agreed to donate the unused item charity. The chore was punctuated with refreshment breaks, writing and shopping. Sunny and mild to start, a stiff breeze assailed me on the way to a quiet co-op where I discussed the price of seeds and compostable bags with my namesake at the till. Feeling iffy, I forced myself to write in the afternoon. Mind blank trying to work on the novel, I composed an add-on for Cool Placesii and posted a photo of pink winter blossom for Elderly Neighbours’ birthday (See below).
9.9% of covid cases over the past year were reinfections. Previously 2%, it showed earlier illness didn’t protect against Omicron. The WHO recommended treatments Sotrovimab and Baricitinib. DOHSC accounting revealed £8.5 bn written off for lost, faulty or expired PPE. The IOPC published details of racist, sexist and homophobic messages between officers at Charing Cross cop shop 2016-2018. The 2 dismissed were not isolated ‘bad apples’. After announcing the closure of 317 meat, fish and deli counters and Jack’s discount stores, changes to overnight working put another 1,600 Tesco jobs at risk. Our local farm shop featured on Look North. Open since 1974, the 81 year old owner offered a lifeline for remote villagers in bad weather and lockdowns, delivering essential supplies. In Grimsby ahead of unveiling the Levelling Up white paper, The Glove-Puppet said London’s elite didn’t understand the problems of overlooked communities. His plans involved elected mayors for every part of England and a dozen ‘national missions’, with targets for the economy, housing, education, transport and culture up to 2030 in 55 areas. 20 urban regeneration projects would start with Sheffield and Wolverhampton. Criticised for no new money and lack of ambition, Lisa Nandy called it shuffling deckchairs and Tracy Brabin suggested he prioritise early years and bringing HS2 to the young, vibrant city of Bradford.
Boris known to have attended at least 3 of the ‘Dirty Dozen’, police guidance stated identities of those issued fixed penalty notices ‘should not be released or confirmed’. Rayner inveighed: “I can’t believe this needs saying. The public have a right to know if the PM is found to have committed an offence.” Ed Davey added it stank of a cover-up. Rabid Raab implied Boris still didn’t think he’d done any wrong saying: “(he) believes he acted in good faith at all times.” Downing Street later said they’d reveal if Boris was fined. In Kyiv to speak to president Volodymyr Zelensky before a press conference and rescheduled call to Vlad, No. 10 claimed he spearheaded the international response. An international joke more like! White House press aide Jen Psaki chortled at ambushing cakes in faces, Russian TV sniggered Boris was a henpecked wannabe emperor mocked even by kids, and former tory diplomat Rory Stewart sputtered: “This idea that somehow Boris…is single-handedly defending Ukraine from Russia is pure fantasy.”
Dancing In The Gaslight
Savile and Thatcher
Waking with a creaky jaw the last 2 mornings, further evidence I was grinding my teeth while sleeping due to anxiety, emerged a few days later. Careful exercise helped ease the discomfort Wednesday.
Boris parroting the accusation from right-wing social media that Keir failed ‘to prosecute Jimmy Savile’, Nazir Afzal on BBC Breakfast said in the 3 years he worked under him as DPP, they had record child abuse convictions. In fact, decisions were made locally, Keir apologised and commissioned an investigation which blamed Surrey prosecutors and police for the mess. Causing ructions in the tory ranks, Tobias Ellwood was one of 3 to submit letters of no confidence and on Newsnight, David Liddington derided the ‘crude, stupid distraction tactics’ and a lack of emotional intelligence that ‘sapped trust’. Nick Watt called the gaslighting a death sentence. “Hmm!” mused Phil, “who’s the one who likes dressing up, visiting hospitals and says he’ll fix it…“ And let’s not forget, Savile was a tory. A photo of the nonce posing for the Tory 2010 election campaign turned out to be fake but ones of him with Thatcher weren’t.
Lindsay Hoyle read ‘the bible’ on parliamentary language before PMQs. If Ian Blackford had to retract calling Boris a liar, why didn’t Boris have to recant his comment on Savile? I wondered. The Bumbler toadied to the queen and told Esther McVey mandatory jabs for the NHS would be abandoned. Tongue in cheek, Keir queried if part of Operation Save Big Dog was being ‘tax-cutting conservatives’, why did they keep raising them for workers while protecting oil companies and banks and ’gaslight’ the British public with stealth taxes? To Boris’ usual waffle, he responded: ‘lots of words, lots of bluster, but no answers’ and joked that wouldn’t work with the police! He pointed out wastage and fraud during the pandemic equalled the extra taxes and asked why he wasn’t investigating that instead of squeezing people to the pips? Boris spewed a load of figures, rubbish about record amounts of PPE and getting ventilators from footballers. Keir repeated he needed to sharpen how he answered questions.
I was stealing myself to take the redundant juicer to the charity shop in the drizzle when Phil offered to go. Relieved, I did some admin and messaging, setting a record 3 social engagements for the month (lunch with Walking Friend and AN Other Friday, an exhibition with Manchester Friend and a drink with The Researcher late Feb). The so-called wine rack stuffed with miscellaneous items, Phil returned as I began sorting them to reclaim mechanical whisks and a mixing bowl, then left me to evict spiders, scour utensils, start another charity bag and make room in cupboards.
Hospital cases down, more deaths were recorded than for almost a year. Figures excluded Scotland. Nasty Patel told the home affairs committee the IOPC findings showed a ‘failure of leadership’ (sic) but didn’t say Dick should go. Yvette Coop wanted action from the home office as well as The Met. Boris made the postponed call to Vlad and tweeted the way out of hostilities was diplomacy. So, calling the Russians hostile was diplomatic, was it? After legal advice that SPS checks required approval from the Stormont Executive, DUP minister Edwin Poots ordered officials at Daera** to stop Irish Sea border checks from midnight. Back doors opened at the Port of Belfast the next morning. Saying issues could be resolved through the protocol, Sinn Fein accused him of playing party politics. 4 Insulate Britain protestors got stuck in jail after gluing themselves outside the High Court while chants of ‘Boris out’ were ignored during Westminster news broadcasts.
Lower leg cramp woke me in the early hours Thursday. Unable to reach, I tried shaking it out but the knee agonisingly locked up. On the verge of tears, I attempted to stand and hobbled to the bathroom. After a bit more sleep, the pain alleviated enough to perform most of my exercise routine. Telling Phil I‘d never known anything like it, he said he had and I worried not for the first time, if it was arthritis. I rushed chores and writing tasks to go to town, greeting 3 lesser-spotted neighbours along the street. The centre strangely quiet in the dull dampness, I discussed the inflationary cost of cough drops, energy price hikes and treasury plans for loans and rebates with Sweet Shop man. Ofgem raised the cap to £1,971. Rishi dished out £200 rebates on electricity bills from October (to be paid back from 2023, though Goldman Sachs doubted prices would drop until 2025) and £150 off council tax (the treasury gave councils £144m). Unimpressed, labour called it ‘buy now pay later’ and asked why there was no cut in VAT or windfall tax for Shell, who made £14bn profit? BOE simultaneously put interest up to 0.5%, predicted inflation of 7.25% by April and said it wasn’t a good time to ask for more pay. So much for the high skills, high wage economy! GMB’s Gary Smith retorted: “telling the hard-working people who carried this country through the pandemic they don’t deserve a pay rise is outrageous.” Elsewhere, France put a 4% limit on fuel rises, Belgium slashed VAT and Greece increased the minimum wage by 2%.
On the market, I bantered on posh names for bog roll with Jolly Veg man and topped up supplies in convenience stores to postpone a trip to the co-op, then lugged bags home and faffed to fit mussels in a bowl until Phil came to help. He began scrubbing a Dutch oven but desperate for lunch, I bade him leave it.
Effective against Omicron, Novavax was approved following trials in Leeds and Bradford. A caller to Jeremy Vine called Boris a baboon and David Davis said he suffered death by a thousand cuts with the party in a state of paralysis. As if to illustrate his point, director of communications Jack Doyle and head of policy Munira Mirza quit; she cited the Savile slur. Stopping short of an apology, Boris insisted he was making a point about responsibility for the organisation as a whole. What! Like he was responsible for the antics in No. 10? Late evening, PPS Martin Reynolds and Chief of Staff Dan Rosenfeld also left Downing Street pursued the next morning by special adviser Elena Narozanski. At least 2 of them were at parties. Energy minister Greg Hands said it proved the PM was ‘taking charge’. DUP MLA Paul Givan resigned, meaning Michelle O’Neil also lost her post, power-sharing at Stormont ended and the exec couldn’t meet. How did that square with them having authority to change import rules? Sinn Fein said the political opportunism had catastrophic impacts ahead of May elections. A high Court judge subsequently suspended Poot’s decision to stop import checks, until a full judicial review to avoid confusion ‘hanging over’ civil servants.
Discussing mandatory vaccines for health staff on QT, a sceptic with piles of scrappy notes disputed a vax scientist. Robin Shattock tried to be nice but ended up saying he was talking crap. Torygraph weirdo Tim Stanley thought it good to have the debate and mandating counter-productive. NHS Confederation’s Victor Adebowale said with 95% staff uptake but only 89% for BME, they had rights but also responsibilities. Crispin Blunt believed it sensible to re-assess the policy on evidence. A nurse in the audience claimed natural immunity from having covid protected her. Shattock informed her that varied and asked if an antibody test might persuade her? “Maybe.” Probed on if Boris damaged the tory party, Crispin said we were being played by The Scumbag and repeated the assertion not everyone followed the rules. Weirdo Tim bizarrely compared Boris to a character from Oceans 11, Rosena Allin-Khan maintained the ‘consistent liar’ wasn’t fit for office, before or now, and Victor called him a moral vacuum. Robin asked: who do you trust?
Interviewed on Newscast, Rishi said Boris was right to apologise, evaded questions on standing for leader and claimed to have seen no parties from Number 11’s window. A day later, The Mirror reported The Met had a photo of Boris holding a can of beer at his lockdown birthday party, standing next to Rishi in the cabinet room. Shot by Andrew Parsons (one of 3 of The Bumbler’s official tax-funded photographers) who documented the event, it proved they didn’t give a shit!
Mixing It Up
Pink Winter Blossom
So much happened in the world of politics late the previous night, trying to get a grip Friday morning was hindered by Phil rambling and Walking Friend texting to ask if I could be ready early. To avoid rushing, I arranged to meet at the corner pub instead, hastened my notes and put a face on. No sign of them outside, AN Other waved to me from inside the pub. They mixed coffee and Bailey’s but I eschewed drinking during a catch-up and deciding what next. On the way to the big charity shop, a feint rainbow provided a backdrop for a cloud of squawking corvids. We ambled down the still oddly quiet pedestrian street. AN Other liked the look of the wood burner in the cocktail bar. Unsure if they served food, she asked to be given a Med café menu. As she re-arranged the furniture to feel the heat, I wryly told the waitress: “sorry about this.” The partnership arrangement involved staff toing and froing across the street. Over inevitably tepid dishes, we discussed holidays, labyrinthine German tax laws and mutual acquaintances. I expressed relief at not going to Deceased Friends’ wake after the family all got covid and learnt another old pub mate died of cancer last month. Walking Friend fed pigeons to distract them before feeding ducks on the wavy steps. Visiting more charity shops, we ended up at one near our street. AN Other drove back across the moor, Walking Friend went to the co-op and I went home, agreeing it made a change mixing up our lunch-meets. A mélange of chatter crowding my head, I couldn’t relax at all during a siesta.
ONS found risk of death from covid dropped 93% after 3 jabs. Rishi having distanced himself from Boris’ slur, Goblin Saj said Keir should be respected for doing a good job as DDP but the PM ‘clarified remarks’ on the Savile issue and still had his support. Nick Gibb, the latest tory MP to publicly call for Boris to go, cited constituents’ fury ‘about the double standards’ and the PM’s ‘inaccurate’ commons statements. Meanwhile, Liam Fox waited to see what happened and in a round of drunken interviews, batty Nads Doris claimed 97% of tories backed Boris and it was all a Remoaners plot. After taking the big plane to Blackpool to play with trams, Boris returned to rally the troops and quote ‘change is good’ from the Lion King. “It really is The Lying King!” I laughed. Ukrainian architects Studio Makhno designed Plan C, bagels for settlers on Mars to inhabit craters, with food grown in orbiting spherical greenhouses. Did they nick the idea from The Expanse?
A watery sun presaged grey rain Saturday. Rather scatty, I kept drifting off, but rallied with caffeine. Nowt on telly, we watched extras on a DVD so it could go in the charity bag. Disposing of recycling, I found dog poo on the doorstep, angrily scrubbed it off and railed I was starting to take it personal. Phil thought dogs simply needed a crap when they reached the top of the steps. Heading to the main road, car lights on the gloomy roads made it appear like midwinter again. Among gaps in the co-op, I got a cheap pineapple. What was that about affordable fruit? At the till, teenage girls carefully handled a carrier like it was precious. The nice young Scottish cashier told me it was a cappuccino glass. Pausing halfway through scanning my stuff, she apologised for having a moment. “It’s okay, I’ve been scatty today.” “Good.” “Is it?” “Yeah, if you can’t pause on a day like this, when can you? Have a nice evening.” “It’s not evening yet. It just looks like it.” “I don’t mind this weather.” I stopped myself replying she was probably used to it! I trudged back and collapsed on the sofa while Phil watched Olympic skiing, commenting on the fakery in an area of China that barely got 20cm of rain a year, let alone snow! Working on the journal, I got mixed up with all the Westminster parties, checked the BBC news list and discovered 2 were excluded from the report, including Shaun Bailey’s lavish buffet. “That sounds like an excellent idea!” exclaimed Phil, googled an all-you-can-eat in Blackpool and declared he now used tory antics as a kind of tarot. Cooking the pineapple with a splash of sambuca, Phil queried why we never drank it. “We don’t really mix drinks anymore.”
Raining all night, sheets of hail careened down the valley Sunday. And it was so dark! No possibility of a walk, I worked on the journal and tried cleaning kitchen chairs. Mysterious splotches persisting, Phil’s idea of using turps to expunge them might wait ‘til we could work outside. We also made some arrangements for Phil’s birthday weekend but were undecided on the lavish buffet. During a truly terrible night, I caught myself clenching my jaw in an early hours stupor. I must have slept but it was in such small snatches I might as well not have even tried!
After Boris stated crime fell 14% and the Home Office admitted it excluded fraud and computer scams, the UKSA sad they were misleading. Challenged on Sunday Morning, Kwasi Modo said they meant street crime like burglary and violence. Tell that to Leeds people in fear of being stabbed!
Shaun Bailey’s Lavish Buffet
*Scope of inquiry:15th May 2020, garden party; 27th Nov, leaving do; 10th Dec; gathering at DoE, 15th Dec, Xmas quiz.
The Dirty Dozen: 20th May 2020, garden party; 18th June, a gathering; 19th June, Boris’ birthday party; 13th Nov, 2 gatherings; 17th Dec, 3 gatherings; 18th Dec, ‘end of term’ party; 14th Jan 2021, a gathering; 16th April, 2 gatherings.
Excluded from report: 14th Dec; Bailey’s lavish buffet, Met speaking to 2 attendees; 16th Dec, DoT party.
**(Department of agriculture, environment & rural affairs)
“Sorry losers and haters but my IQ is one of the highest – and you all know it! Please don’t feel so stupid or insecure, it’s not your fault” (Donald Trump)
Lockdown Mark 3
Haiga – Primary
Early 2021, I considered giving up on the journal but with so much going on, felt compelled to continue. After all, ‘it ain’t over ‘til it’s over’…
Woozy Monday due to lack of sleep, I made a big effort to rise. We laughed along with Vernon Kay on Jeremey Vine as Carol Brexit banged on about the same old garbage of the virus only killing ill people. There was controversy over when to take Christmas decor down. Both brought up to do it on the Epiphany when the 3 wise men came, we used to move the figurines into the crib, then pack it up. Others said they should be removed before midnight on 6th January to ward off bad luck. We declared that a load of nonsense, believing in tradition, not superstition. A woman called in to say her parents left them until well after twelfth night last year. They poo-pooed her assertion it was bad luck: “And then look what happened!” That slayed us. “It’s good to have someone to blame!” I later discovered from English Heritage that in Medieval times, people kept them until Candlemas on 2nd February. It made sense brightening the dark January days, but leaving it ‘til Easter was just ludicrous, particularly with cream eggs already on the shelves.
I posted blogs and as the skies looked threatening, we got rid of piles of recycling in case more snow arrived. Very icy near the bins, Phil had a hard time not slipping. The site resembling a midden, he tried to clear the nastiness up but the task proved futile. In the afternoon, I did some yoga then actually slept briefly which was nice. Meanwhile, Phil went to the co-op, returning without salad items: “nowt to do with Brexit.” Big Sis had messaged a few days ago and finally feeling up to calling as promised, we started safely agreeing on the Brexit mess. As she suddenly jumped to the old ‘they have all our info, including our DNA’ conspiracy stuff, I managed to steer the conversation back to common ground.
Brian Pinker was the first UK resident to get the Oxford jab. Prof Powis said it was a ‘turning point’ and echoed my prediction that things would improve by spring/early summer. The variant was now known worldwide as the Kent Virus. Cases rose, with the highest rates in the North West, especially Liverpool and Cumbria. Wales and Scotland were in total lockdown until at least the end of January, and the NI Executive toughened measures. At 8.00 p.m. Boris announced England was at ‘alert level 5’ and entering a third national lockdown. Similar to the first one, it entailed staying at home, only leaving to shop for essentials, for exercise, medical reasons, to escape domestic abuse, or for work if we had to. The clinically vulnerable were told to shield again, social bubbles remained in place, nurseries stayed open but schools and colleges shut. Having claimed they were low risk only the previous day, The Bumbler now said schools were ‘major vectors’ of the virus. He promised eligible kids would get free school meals and the distribution of more devices to support remote learning. Exams were scrapped with alternatives to be arranged. Possibly lasting into March, we were urged to follow the rules immediately before they became law on Wednesday when MPs re-convened to vote. He promised we were in “the last phase of the struggle” and the top 4 priority groups would be vaccinated by the end of February, requiring an unprecedented 2 million jabs a week. A tall order for a government that consistently over-promised and under-delivered!
Failing to mention any additional support for business, Rishi rushed out plans the next morning. £4.6 billion would be available, including grants of £9k for retail, hospitality and leisure and £594m for councils to support local business via a discretionary fund. He ignored suggestions to provide furlough to parents forced to stay at home with school kids and increasing SSP to encourage the infected to self-isolate.
Panic-buying and virtual queues returned immediately and Online grocers’ websites crashed. Thank goodness I placed that Ocado order at the weekend!
Tuesday, I got rid of Christmas cards and greenery. I also tried to clear up the midden but was defeated by mounds of inflexible cardboard and polystyrene – who was responsible? During my siesta, I used earplugs to block out sounds of shouting from outside. Although generally quieter after the start of lockdown mark 3, someone was having a loud socially-distanced conversation, making it impossible to settle.
About to play guitar early evening, Keir came on telly with a formal statement. Previously saying “the figures are very stark” and there was “nothing missing from the package”, he now said serious questions remained on why The Bumbler hadn’t acted sooner, why the testing system still wasn’t working, why there was so little time to plan for school closures, and why the delay in offering business support? He promised Labour would support the new lockdown: “… whatever our quarrels.. we need to come together… the virus is out of control… at this darkest of moments we need a new national effort…” but vowed to: “(challenge) the government where they are getting it wrong… (they must) use the lockdown to establish a massive vaccination programme… we need a new contract… the country stays at home, the government delivers the vaccine… “ I wasn’t keen on his idea of ‘round the clock’ vaccinations; no way would I be able to get to a jab centre at silly o’clock in the morning! And what about the staff? On Newsnight, Lockdown Sceptic Toby Young conceded he was wrong to say a second wave wasn’t on the way. But still stuck to his sociopathic herd immunity beliefs, citing the stupid Barrington declaration and Prof Guppy Fish. What a wanker!
Loser Trump planned to fly to Scotland and play golf on 19th January, thus avoiding Biden’s inauguration on the 20th. Sturgeon warned he was not allowed as golf wasn’t essential. Phil said: “she can’t stop him. He’ll still be a sovereign entity.” Or would he?…
Anarchy in the USA
Insurrection at The Capitol
Cold, frosty but sunny Wednesday, a walk would have been good but it took most of the day to deal with Christmas trees. Phil carried the larger one out all by himself. “ Smashed it!” we laughed. The hoovering made my back ache so I switched to sedentary activities. Annoyed at being charged loads for utilities, I searched the British Gas website for a lower tariff to discover I couldn’t get one unless I had an electric car! Phil popped to the shop just before dusk, alarmed that the pavements were already refrozen.
On a QT special, simpleton Nads Zahawi, minister for the vaccination programme (god help us!) said they needed the community and independent sectors to work with the NHS on vaccine delivery. Pharmacists so far excluded, meetings were promised next week. As they’d announced 7 new regional hubs, I asked why none were in Yorkshire; even more of an issue as only elderly people within 45 minutes’ drive would be invited. What a daft strategy!
MPs went to parliament for a day. The Salesman told them teacher assessments would be used in place of exams or terrible algorithms. With BTEC exams due next week, they weren’t included. In a meeting with revolting tories before the vote on Lockdown #3, Boris seemed surprised it would be law until the end of March (just before Easter) and promised a review every 2 weeks. “He hasn’t read it!” exclaimed Phil. As 1.3k Met officers were off sick or isolating, other forces sought permission to break down doors and arrest people. European news actually reported by the BBC for once, there were issues of goods entering NI and the Moderna vaccine was approved by the EU; not applicable on Brexit island of course.
Over In the states, 1 in 5 citizens of Los Angeles were infected, someone died every 15 minutes and ambulances were disgustingly instructed to not pick up people with little chance of recovery.
Following Loser Trump’s attempts to find extra votes and get Pence to illegally declare ballots invalid, the Georgia re-run confirmed a Democrat majority. He told his supporters to go to the Capitol Building, which they obediently did, using violence to gain entry, seize inauguration stands, and defile the interior. 4 acolytes died, one of gunshot the others of heart attacks. Amid questions about security, in stark contrast to the response to BLM protests in the summer, a cop became the fifth fatality due to injuries sustained.
The next day, Biden was finally confirmed as the next president. Still intending to miss the inauguration, The Loser tweeted: ‘Even though I totally disagree with the outcome of the election, and the facts bear me out, nevertheless there will be an orderly transition on January 20.’ Democrats called for him to be removed from office on the grounds of mental incapacity and incitement to insurrection. Having ended the lives of more death row prisoners than any other president in history, it was a shame the maximum penalty was 10 years if convicted. Clearly saying words written for him, he later decried the Capitol besiegers. Some halfwit commented on a picture posted on twitter labelled ‘Via Getty’, that the subject should be arrested. Which grandson would that be?
Here We Are Again!
Shed of Pathos
Wintry conditions persisted for the rest of the week. Thursday, we were distracted by watching people moving out of the house below. “I wonder who our next sim pets will be?” Ha, ha! Togged up, I stole myself for a chilly trip to the market. Actually 2 degrees above freezing, and no ice on the pavements, I felt overdressed. In a quiet town centre, only 4 cars occupied the carpark, allowing me to spot what resembled a pixie door in the side wall of the tearooms, previously unnoticed. The stall outside the pub in the square, rammed with people imbibing mulled wine the previous week, now looked forsaken. The fish van hadn’t made the weekly trip but the toiletries stall was well-stocked which was a relief amidst reports of bog roll shortages. While serving me, the jolly veg man precariously placed his lit fag on the edge of the stall, next to a pack of lighters. “Watch that!” I implored. “Don’t worry, I’m an expert at burning stuff down.” “That’s reassuring.” I remembered to repay him for a faux pas long ago, when I inadvertently took an extra bunch of spring onions. “I’ve been losing sleep over that 50p,” he joked. That evening, we watched The Limehouse Golem on telly. The first time I’d seen it sober; I was struck by its creepiness. Dan Leno’s catchphrase: ‘here we are again!’ seemed particularly poignant right now.
The Cock Cocked-up at a GP surgery to laud delivery of the Oxford vaccine which didn’t turn up. Jon Ashworth said it was like the ‘Thick of It’. The weekly clap apparently returned, as ‘clap for heroes’. “Who are they then?” Asked Phil. “Anyone you like.” No applause was heard in these parts.
Friday, I re-worked my submission plan in line with the reduced 4 issues of Valley Life magazine planned for 2021, reflecting it would be easier selecting one extract per season. The trip to the co-op definitely required the bear coat. Despite alleged shortages and stockpiling, I fulfilled the list. In the afternoon, I wrote up small walks from the previous week to post on ‘Cool Places’i
The R rate rose to 1-1.4. Nationally, there were 1,325 deaths from coronavirus, the worst daily total ever. A major incident was declared in London where 1 in 30 were infected compared to 1 in 50 nationally. The Excel Nightingale hospital would re-open for non-Covid patients. It was reported that 1.5m older people had received a jab so far while the Moderna vaccination was approved. The government ordered an extra 17m doses but it wouldn’t be available until spring, no doubt because the EU got in first. Hauliers going to France were advised to get tested before crossing into Kent. Grant Shatts said negative tests would be required within 72 hours of in-bound travel to the UK. The plan put back until 18th January because the guidance hadn’t been published, Yvette Cooper called it “truly shocking.” Plod idiocy returned with the old park bench conundrum. The over-zealous Derbyshire force were up to their old tricks, fining 2 women who’d driven 5 miles to have a walk. An appeal was unsurprisingly successful. Here we are again!
Saturday, a weak sun obscured by fog, soon disappeared altogether. Horrid dressing in the arctic conditions, I asked Phil to do my long-overdue haircut dry. He said it would be different but I thought it was pretty good. The rest of the day, I worked on blogs and created an arty alphabet made up of letters from signs photographed on the recent canal walk. It started to shape up well but q, x, and z were missing. With cases still rising and hospitals at breaking point, top medics pleaded for tougher restrictions and Boris was more worried than ever. Apart from the daft government ads, it wasn’t clear what else he would do. Reduce the ridiculously long list of keyworkers? Stop their kids attending classes? Close schools altogether? Shut nurseries? Reduce permitted exercise to once a week? As Twitter shut Trump’s account, Phil asked: “has anyone copied it? There were some classics.” “What, like covfefe?” He later found an hilarious example (see top).
Numbered Pole
On a dingy, drizzly Sunday, I braved the mix of mist and fine rain which Phil called ‘fizzle’, to go and find the missing letters for my arty alphabet.
Walking down our street, I found 2 out of 3, plus most numbers. I ventured slightly further and succeeded in getting a complete set.
When you looked, they were everywhere: on lampposts, telegraph poles, walls, parking meters, and of course signs.
Coming back, I found a DVD in the freebie box then ran the last stretch. Good to get some fresh air and exercise, I reflected on the restrictions saying we could go outdoors once a day for exercise but not for recreation. Did that mean we could walk/run/cycle, as long as we didn’t enjoy it? I had several responses ready if challenged: “it’s for me mental health, innit?; I is an essential photographer; I am journaling the pandemic and contributing to a research project”. Alphabet complete, I manipulated letters in Photoshop for future use and wrote a haiku.ii
Over the weekend, Leeds got trounced by Crawley Town in the FA cup 3rd round. To be fair, they looked like they weren’t even trying, suggesting they’d rather concentrate on staying in the top flight. Pundits advised the suspension of all matches. “Yeah, but they don’t mind getting paid to chat shit about the footie they think shouldn’t be played!”
“You might very well think that – I couldn’t possibly comment ” (Francis Urquart, House of Cards)
Game-Changer
Haiga – Alchemy
Shouty men wheeling stuff about in the fog on the street made for a rude awakening Monday morning. Waiting until the noise abated, I drifted back to sleep then became alarmed at the lateness of the hour. Phil’s help with the tedious chores was most welcome. I spent the rest of the morning blog-posting, causing minor irritation. The stupid highlights re-appeared in the Word file so whole chunks of the journal had to be re-written and the Facebook link again proved problematic. Continuing with writing after lunch, my eyes went funny so I switched to art. The new painting I started, based on a photo of felled maple leaves last autumn, looked more promising than Sunday’s effort. Placing an Ocado order, daytime slots were still as rare as hen’s teeth. I settled for an early Wednesday evening delivery.
The Welsh firebreak ended. Heddlu patrolled the English border to stem shopping trips. This didn’t prevent massive queues outside Primark in Cardiff and mayhem in Ikea. The number of cases worldwide hit 50 million. Pfizer/Biontec won the race for a vaccine, 90% effective in trials but not yet peer-reviewed. Subject to emergency authorisation, the UK government planned to start immunising in December, having pre-ordered 40m doses, enough for 20m people (with 300m on order in total when others came online). We knew care workers and the vulnerable would be first in line but after that, who was going to get what and when? Although offered more money, GPs expressed concern about the practicalities of vaccinating thousands of people a day and keeping the Pfizer vaccine at the required -70 degrees. Dummy Prof Van Dam took part in the daily briefing and expressed ‘cautious optimism’. “These vaccines will prevent illness, but that’s all we know. We don’t know if they will prevent asymptomatic infection and have an effect on community transmission.” Imploring us to still follow the rules, The Bumbler trolled out one of his moronic analogies involving distant bugles: “I have often talked of the bugle of scientific breakthrough coming over the brow of the hill. Tonight that toot is louder, but it is still some way off.”
Loser Trump blamed his defeat on Pfizer, for not announcing the vaccine’s success before the election. A true hallmark of a narcissist, thinking the world revolved around them!
Meanwhile, venture capitalist, wife of tory minister Jesse Norman and Head of the Vaccine Taskforce, Kate Bingham, spent a fortune on PR consultants Admiral Associates. The Director, Angus Collingwood-Cameron, was also coincidentally (sic) a director of The Scumbag’s in-laws’ country estate. This came after she revealed sensitive info to America the other week, with another money-spinner of a virtual conference for capitalists planned next year. It was subsequently reported she was stepping down at the end of year.
Panorama covered Liverpool during the tier 3 restrictions including gyms flouting the rules before being allowed to re-open and demos involving the predictable assortment of tin-foilers and naysayers. I learnt a new word: ‘coronacoaster’.
Getting out of bed continued to be difficult throughout the week but I forced myself to do so. On Tuesday, I checked the Valley Life proof, worked on the journal and did a big top-up shop. I got stressed in the co-op as my glasses steamed up so much I could hardly see. The kiosk cashier was as cheery as ever – not! A crowded draining board made washing tricky causing further stress. Hearing me swear, Phil asked what was wrong. “The same old annoying routine. What do you think!” I flopped on the sofa, then on the bed. Another faff ensued at coffee time, trying to tip biscuits into a tin. A piece of uncleansed plastic tumbled out with the yummy treats– grr!
The Cock boasted that the UK would be among one of the first countries to get vaccines, with the NHS and army involved in delivery. COVAX (The Global Vaccine Alliance) might have something to say about that. People in poor countries unable to social distance and access clean water, suffered more, not to mention those in refugee camps; surely they should be prioritised? Prof. Bell of Oxford University told a joint session of the Commons Health & Social Care and Science & technology Committees there was a high probability of 3 vaccines being available by spring and of immunising the vulnerable by Easter – if distribution wasn’t ‘screwed up.’ Who could he mean? Surely not our wonderfully competent government! John Penrose MP self-isolated after being contacted by his wife Dildo’s TIT. Facing the same committee, she insisted she was doing a great job. While admitting that demand outstripped capacity in September, she couldn’t answer questions on when the next peak was expected. A record 314k redundancies between July and September helped raise unemployment to 4.8%. Wales cancelled all 2021 school exams and Scotland some of them. Westminster insisted this wouldn’t happen in England but how long until that changed? Amanda Spielman of Ofsted said pupils might not go back in the spring term if there were no exams. Where did they find those odd kids that loved school?
Northern Plaguehouse
Plague House
Wednesday morning, I continued work on the journal and watched PMQs. Keir quizzed Boris on the use of PR consultants. A scandal with self-employed people still falling through the cracks. I spent the afternoon listening to my own music (much better than the radio), painting ‘Maple Leaves’ and doing yoga. Meanwhile, Phil gave himself a buzz cut. After a rest, I sorted bags ready for the Ocado deliver which was a good job as it arrived slightly early. I almost froze my fingers off stuffing food in the freezer.
In scaled-down Armistice Day commemorations, a fat, grizzled Poet Laureate Simon Armitage recited a tribute. “It’s the crap Ted Hughes!” laughed Phil. In another world-beating feat, the UK headed the death league table. The Cock told MPs mass testing would be rolled out to 67 other local authorities after the Liverpool pilot. Universities were to close on 1st Dec, with rapid testing and travel corridors to allow students to go home and study on-line until Christmas. Universities Minister, Michelle Donelan, told them to display ‘refined behaviour’ before moving about the country – what a joke! In an attempt to allay safety concerns, Dummy Prof Van Dam wittered about the ‘mum test’, said he’d have the vaccine himself if he could and offered to help give jabs. While Europe ran out of ICU beds, local news reported that the north was disproportionally badly affected by coronavirus. Newsnight included a segment on our local TIT. Calderdale Director of Public Health, Debs Harkins, said it reached 95% of contacts but most didn’t qualify for a £500 grant to self-isolate and called for eligibility to be reviewed. A man working on the system told us they were ridiculously not allowed to approach people contacted by Dildo’s TIT. Taxi drivers got free PPE with the possibility of routine tests in the near future. I’d seen tweets from Debs with the weekly Covid infection updates but didn’t realise that during summer, the area had 20 x the average number of national cases. Workers in low income public sector jobs took the infection home to multi-generational households. Still low in our rural patch, I guessed they were mainly in Halifax.
‘We Own It’ set up a letter of support to the Covid Recovery Group (a group of 50 tory MPs). Before signing, I added: “Here in Calderdale, I understand that the track and trace system, set up by the local authority, has reached 95% of contacts. This demonstrates that local teams are far more effective than the woeful and expensive privatised system set up to line the pockets of the Prime Minister’s cronies.”
Has Anyone Seen The Level Playing Field?
Level Playing Field?
A bright Thursday morning was spent bathing, hoovering and a modicum of writing before an early lunch and long-overdue afternoon walk. Leaving the house, Phil had to go back for a mask. I bemoaned the palaver to a passing friendly neighbour: “it’s one more thing to remember isn’t it? keys, money, phone, mask…” “Put them on a hook near the front door.” She suggested. “I can’t guarantee they wouldn’t get contaminated.” That made her laugh.
Phil nipped in the co-op while I hung around near the back door. A friend greeted me, unrecognisable with his face covered. As his partner emerged, she said “I just said hello to your Phil. “Oh. Was he in there?” “It’s these bloody masks!” We headed through the park, resplendent in the afternoon sun. Climbing past the station up to farmland, large cattle had replaced sheep and goats in the fields. As I panted from the effort of the ascent, Phil said. “You sound like a killer cow.” “Charming!” We then ascended to the top path above the quarry, made tricky by errant trees, fast-flowing water and squelchy mud. Down in the wood, the small waterfall was inundated, We clambered to rest near the wall. Copper and bronze carpeted the paths and adorned spindly branches reaching towards the light, giving inspiration for the week’s haigai. Phil refused to believe it when we reached our usual return path and continued into uncharted territory. “It’s all different,” he said. “Don’t ask me; I never come this way.” We descended a horrid stony path. Finding it hard-going, I cautiously picked my way down to avoid a mishap. Phil raced ahead, only stopping when he espied a lenticular cloud hovering above. Back on familiar territory we took the easiest way home, where I slumped on the sofa with fatigue. (For a fuller description of the walk, see Cool Placesii).
Coronavirus cases jumped 46% across the country with Hull now top of the English infection charts. Val Vaz MP quizzed Rees-Moggy on the awarding of contracts during the pandemic and called for a public enquiry. In a web even more extensive than I’d imagined, ‘My Little Crony’ illustrated the number of contracts awarded to Tory family members, friends and donors. Great work by Sophie Hill!iii
Tired from the outing, I went to bed to watch QT (dominated by The Cock on the vaccine), and Brexitcast – yes, it was back! They knew nothing I didn’t already but highlighted a tweet from Michel Barnier in a playing field, joking: “Short break from intense EU-UK negotiations in London… Went looking for level playing fields…” Good luck with that, mate!
Unlucky for Some
Book Kiosk
I woke early on Friday the 13th to the gentle hum of traffic in the rain. Were people fed up working from home after only a week of lockdown? By the time I rose, the rain had stopped, becoming sunny and freakily warm for the time of year. Feeling lazy after a week of mediocre sleeping, I dithered over small chores and wrote ‘Autumn Rainbow’ for Cool Places. Posting the blog later, I again had trouble with links. Due to Ocado not having everything in stock that we needed, I annoyingly still had to go to the co-op. Why was our preferred coffee so elusive? Was it because of Brexit? I later relaxed with yoga and practiced guitar.
Infections slowed but still stood at 5000,000. Sage said the ‘R’ rate was between 1.1 and 1,2, higher than Kings College’s Zoe App rate of 0.8-0.9. At any rate, cases and deaths still rose, due to manic mixing before lockdown #2. While rates fell in the young and rose in the old, over 1k school clusters led to 12-16 year olds infecting households. My mind whirled trying to reconcile the differing data. Yorkshire Ripper Peter Sutcliffe died of Covid-19 after refusing treatment. Phil said: “I’m not surprised. He was probably a tin-foiler.”
The resignation of top adviser Lee Cain the previous day caused chaos in Downing Street. His bezzy mate Scumbag was predicted to be gone by Christmas, then made a very public exit with his box, from the shiniest front door in the land, Friday teatime. The Daily Mail predicted a ‘vicious attack’ between now and when he was officially severed in December. Wondering what on earth Boris’ girlfriend had to do with it all, it transpired The Symonds texted Boris 25 times an hour and called his office 20 times a day with her thoughts on policy, leading to her being nicknamed Princess Nut-Nut by Scumbag and his cronies. He’d forwarded a text with that moniker thus told to clear his desk. Would The Symonds and Allegra Stratton become The Bumbler’s key advisers, the latter seen flouncing outside Number 10 in a fancy car?
In spite of a stuffed freezer, Phil hankered for pheasant and went to the butchers on Saturday. I pottered round the house until he returned to cut and dye my hair. In anticipation of a lengthy cooking time, I started pot roasting the pheasant almost straight after lunch but it was much quicker than previous efforts.
On the main day of the 5-day Diwali celebrations, Rishi was seen decorating Number 11’s doorstep and urged fellow-Hindus to keep to lockdown rules, even if it was difficult.
Incredulously, in an interview on Sky News Thursday, he didn’t rule out the return of ‘eat out to help out’ in January. Had he not seen the figures on how infections shot up after the summer meal deal? When would the government learn they couldn’t have their cake and eat it? They either had to prioritise public health or the economy, instead of see-sawing between the two. As Boris had already said, you couldn’t negotiate with the virus. I subsequently composed a tweet to that effect.
I awoke Sunday morning with cramp in the instep area of my feet, which was odd. Phil planned to do a job for his AI boss – posing outside. In a fine spell between showers, he set his tripod up in a gap in the parking area of the street. Passing neighbours looked bemused “He’s got a new job. Working for an AI. It’s the modern world” “Exciting!” they exclaimed. Not sure Phil would agree as he later had issues uploading the photos. Much swearing at his Apple browser ensued. I headed for the so-called Farmer’s Market, where the rustic veg stall had a good selection of home-grown produce. Violent gusts suddenly whipped up. The server complained her colleague had removed the windbreak. “Mind you, it was as much use as a chocolate fireguard.” “Or chocolate windguard!” I suggested. Since the hipster bakers had deigned to accept cash again, I got an artisan loaf and perused the nearby red telephone kiosk. Persons unknown had thoughtfully turned it into a book exchange. Finding something to take, I vowed to return with my cast-offs Going home, celery leaves trailed in my wake. The market veg required extensive washing after which I needed a break, before starting the process of pickling shallots. Phil joined in as a distraction from his tech woes.
Useless George waffled on The Marr, denying Brexit meant the death of UK farming but with 95% of sheep exports going to Europe, it wouldn’t be so lucky for our locality. Despite “Sticking points,” he said “(it) should be possible to reach that agreement,” but we needed to prepare for no-deal. “How?“ I shouted at the telly, “those stupid government ads don’t say what we’re meant to do!” Back in Brussels, Lord Frost claimed there was “some progress in a positive direction.” I wondered how you could have progress in a negative direction. Prof. Ugur Sahin creator of the Pfizer/Biontec vax warned of a hard winter as the vaccine wouldn’t make an impact until 2021. He said we must have mass immunisation by next autumn/winter and due to mutations and uncertainty on how long it would be effective, jabs might be required every 6 months. They just didn’t know! After a meeting with MPs, Boris self-isolated for a second time. As several others self-isolated, the Infecting MP was labelled a ‘super-spreader.’ Questions arose about why the meeting had been held face-to-face, why they weren’t standing 2 metres apart during photos and why Boris flitted between his flat and desk in number 10. Smelling something fishy, Phil cried: “he’s gone into hiding again, the coward!” “That’s because he has no clue what to do without Scumbag pulling his strings!” “You might very well think that – I couldn’t possibly comment.”
“Guy Fawkes – The only person to enter parliament with honest intentions” (international Times)
Positive Incompetence
haiga – Living Stone
The week brought practically every kind of weather. Monday started with blinding sun, but soon changed. After posting blogs, I put the rubbish out, just as the rain arrived. A friendly neighbour rushed home from the shops. “Typical!” we agreed wryly. I worked on the journal in the afternoon and asked Phil to provide copies of photos he’d taken for possible inclusion. This involved trawling through an old format card as he’d taken them on one of his vintage cameras. By the time they arrived on the shared drive, the day had gone. For dinner I turned the leftover roast pumpkin into delicious soup.
The chatty rat still unknown, The Speaker of the House implored the member responsible to apologise for “discourteous and unacceptable behaviour.” MPs being disrespectful? Nothing new there then, I thought. During the week, investigations involved checking phone messages of The Cock and Glove Puppet. Boris promised the lockdown would expire on 2nd December, with a parliamentary vote on the way forward and made more grandiose claims on defeating the virus by spring, using a combination of instant tests and vaccines. Kier was unimpressed with the continuing incompetence and tardy actions of The Bumbler and Rishi Rich, telling the CBI: “One of the things I’ve learned from this crisis is that it exposes leadership like nothing else. On that count the prime minister and the chancellor have failed. They failed to learn. They failed to listen. And they failed to lead. The result is tragic – but all too predictable.” Scotland tiers 0-4 came into force as Germany entered a partial lockdown.
In a change from his usual routine, on Tuesday Philgot ready to do a job for his AI boss at his Leeds studio – a photoshoot of himself in different poses. “Do I look alright?” “What do you mean?” “I need to look normal.” “In that case, yes.” I sent my submission to Valley Life magazine then set off to acquire a few Christmas gifts from non-essential shops before Lockdown Thursday. The labyrinthine antiques shop had no one-way system making navigation tricky. An ancient bell failed to summon staff to open cabinets. Between us, myself and another customer managed to get their attention. In the sweet shop, I asked the fudge-maker for tips. Although she advised a sugar thermometer would help, I was disillusioned to learn she used a ‘fudge kettle’ which automatically reached the right temperature, and a fudge mix – cheat!
I returned home for lunch followed by a spot of life admin and cleaning. I thought going out in the morning for once would be energising but struggling with fatigue and head fug, I had to lie down. Phil got home just as I picked up the guitar for the first time in months. “Carry on.” I started strumming but discombobulated by the interruption, could barely recall basic chords. Frustrated, I gave up. “Right. You have to practice every day, even if only for 10 minutes.” “Ok boss!”
In European news, another terror incident took place in Vienna. The UK threat was upped to ‘severe.’ Our incompetent government missed the deadline to reply to the EU legal notice. A spokesperson for Number 10 said they were committed “to working through the joint committee process to find a satisfactory outcome.” Whatever the hell that meant! Barnier met Lord Frost in Brussels with an update for MEPs due later in the week, prompting speculation on possible movement on the fishing issue.
Frostbite
Grilled Cheese Hut
A thick frost, the first of the season, coated the rooftops on a dazzling Wednesday. We spent the morning tapping away on our key boards and watched PMQs then decided to go out for lunch, seeing as it was the last chance for at least a month. We’d just got to the crossroads when Phil realised he had no mask.
While he ran back for one, I killed time taking photos of the hilarious grilled cheese hut in the old grocer’s yard. The extensive menu included, yes you guessed it, melted cheese! I then perused alternative eateries, all either shut or take-away only. So much for trying something different! Meeting back at the crossroads, we hovered in the tea room garden but they had no hot food left. We predictably ended up at the Med Café. Sitting outside, I harassed the waitress about the cleanliness of the table, the lack of salt, pepper and napkins, then felt sorry as we overheard her relating a tale of woe to another diner. With the start of Lockdown #2, staff were back on short hours and furlough. Phil left a generous tip in meagre compensation.
I spotted a photographer friend waiting to go into a charity shop down the street. Leaving Phil to finish his cappuccino, I approached, just as she struck up a conversation with a passer-by. By the time he’d moved on, Phil had joined us. We had time for a brief catch-up before a shop worker came to tell her it was safe to enter. “And one other.” He said, giving me and Phil a warning look. “No thanks. We were only in here the other day.” After all, there was a limit to how many times you could look at the same piles of bric-a-brac. Phil wanted to browse the book shop (not only closed for the lockdown but due to retirement, permanently as of the end of the year). While he was otherwise occupied, I aimed to secretly acquire the old camera he’d spotted on Sunday. Alas, it had gone.
Reuniting in the square, he did a bad job of hiding purchases behind his leg. I handed him a carrier bag and turned my back so he could at least pretend I hadn’t seen them. We guffawed at a pathetic Christmas tree seemingly being put up by council workers. Normally impressive for a small town, this effort would have fit in our smallest room. “It’ll get nicked that.” He predicted. To be fair, councils were brassic in spite of what the government said about providing extra funding, I discovered a week later that it wasn’t actually the official tree, leaving me puzzled as to what we had seen. I thought we might stay out to look at more trees but as the sun dipped behind the hills, it became cold. Back home, a planter by the door had broken. Phil suggested leaving it. With bits of geranium, soil and rocks strewn on the pavement, that was impractical. I fetched the shovel, still behind the door from burying the rat, and got very cold hands cleaning it up. “I’ve got frostbite!” I declared, as the sensation left my fingertips. “Oh no, you’ll have to do a Ranulph Fiennes and chop them off!” After a siesta, I had another bash at guitar, eventually recalled most of the basic chords and ran through several songs in a 20-minute session (twice the minimum set so pretty good). Pleased to see Count Arthur Strong had surfaced on Prime, I found a new appreciation of the madcap genius following the live gig in Blackpool early in March – heady days!
Following the close of polls, interminable pointless predictions and analysis of the US election dominated the TV from breakfast and throughout the day (I say pointless seeing as we didn’t have a say until we became the 51st state). The Trump claimed it was a big fraud and he’d go to court if he lost. Predictably, the UK government won the lockdown vote but a last-minute change meant pubs could do take-outs, as long as it was via’ click n collect’ or pre-ordering by phone or letter. “I’ll just send my manservant round!” Quipped Phil. The NHS went on standby to potentially start vaccinations in December, with care staff and the over 80’s first in the queue. In the latest High Street casualties, Lloyds Bank and John Lewis announced job losses.
Guy Fawkes Was Right
Lockdown Thursday dawned bright but soon turned to cold rain. Embarking on chores, I found inexplicable clumps of mess around the house. I then worked on the journal until head fug and tired eyes forced me to stop. In a change of activity, I ironed summer shirts. It felt good getting rid of the pile. I switched the radio on for the first time in years and immediately remembered why that was. An awful cacophony of random music and DJ meanderings! On a quiet Bonfire Night, I only heard a couple of fireworks and had a strangely good night, actually sleeping 7 hours straight for the first time in 8 years.
In the return of moronic daily briefings, Rishi Rich extended furlough to March, leading to speculation lockdown would also last until then. Boris again denied it, waffling about putting the virus ‘back in its box’, and repeated that the national lookdown would definitely end on 2nd December – like Covid could be magicked away! In a dig at Witless, Head Bod of the NHS displayed 1 easy to understand graph, clearly showing the sages had over-estimated the number of cases requiring hospitalisation (as Phil had previously pointed out, we’d all be dead if they were right). Mind you, the number of cases was rising and 30,000 medical staff were ill or self-isolating. Echoing Keir’s comments to the CBI, Shadow Chancellor Annalise Dodds said it was too late to save jobs and Rishi was always ‘a step behind’. The Bank of England bought government bonds thus adding £150bn to QE. Sainsburys axed specialist counters and Argos stores. Anti-lockdowners demonstrated in London that evening and in Stroud at the weekend, starring the tin-foiler Piers Corbyn (brother of Jeremy).
The day marked the anniversary of the repeal of the law compelling people to celebrate the failure of the gunpowder plot, led by Guy Fawkes (1859). Would it be commemorated as the anniversary of Lockdown #2 in future?
Starting oddly sunny and foggy at the same time, the fog won on Friday and shrouded the valley for the next few days. We discussed family affairs following a message from Elder Sis. Big Sis was in Germany and asked about driving through England without quarantining. We concluded she could. Undertaking the routine co-op trip, I observed it was definitely quieter outside with non-essential shops shut and much less traffic. This didn’t stop evening shenanigans on the street below. A fire blazed in a brassier almost touching the house. Kids ran about screeching and brandishing sparklers. I observed: “They are not from the same household and there are definitely more than 6 of them.” “Don’t be a grinch.” Phil admonished.
Revolting Students
City-wide mass testing started in Liverpool. The pilot involved testing citizens with no Covid symptoms, using a combination of swab tests and lateral flow tests, which gave results within an hour. Although locally led, the army were drafted in to help and positive results passed onto Dido’s TIT. In Manchester, students awoke to find themselves hemmed in by metal barriers. Revolting students proclaiming the area ‘HMP Fallowfield’ hit the headlines, leading to the offending articles being removed.
During the weekend, Phil did the errands and reported a new pizza take-away had sprung up in the town centre, still busy even without pubs. He also attempted fog photography. I considered accompanying him but reflected that I would have needed tutoring and probably become fractious standing about in the cold drizzle when I could be warm indoors, which is where I stayed. I did some writing and painting with mediocre results, and stayed up too late watching films.
The latest on the US vote count suggested The Trump was officially a loser, which he would hate. In yet another U-turn on school dinners, Boris rang Marcus Rashford to tell him they would be provided over the Christmas break. Rabid Raab appeared on Marr, defending the decision to impose travel restrictions on Denmark after the discovery of Infected minks, as more were reported in Spain and India. Was there global mink-trafficking? Phil googled the issue and discovered the mutation had arisen in different countries coincidentally. It still raised the question of how the virus had jumped from humans to the animals…
With the lack of sleep, I retired early, but struggled to get to sleep and felt very cold during the night.
The Corvus Diaries 