“The Cold War was over long before it was officially declared dead. ” (John Le Carré)
V-Day
Totally bunged up Monday morning, I chanced going downstairs on wobbly legs to make porridge, struggled back up, and accepted I needed to stay abed. Oh well. It had been 7 weeks since my last bout of sinusitis; a good run for me. Later, Phil brought coffee and the laptop so I could post blogs and work on the next part of the journal, until my eyes went funny. Resting in the afternoon, horrid noises started up as my eyes shut. I unusually dropped off regardless, for almost an hour. Doubtless beneficial, the sleep rendered me woozy.
A loophole for pubs in tier 2 meant they could get round the dinner rule if they were classed as a music venue. I didn’t even realise that was allowed. Not that it would make any difference to most of us.Chuck Jaeger died, aged 97. Now there was a guy who definitely had The Right Stuff, unlike our so-called leaders, who had The Wrong Stuff!
Still ill Tuesday, shivers added to the symptoms. I couldn’t get warm, even if Phil claimed it wasn’t as cold as the day before. A huge effort to get off the bed, I had a bath, fetched coffee, and just got back in bed when there was a knock on the door. Stumbling downstairs in my dressing gown, I answered to find a kindly ‘elf’ from the Calderdale Community Carers with a goodie bag for me – how nice! Feeling a little guilty accepting the gift, Phil said: “Don’t. it makes up all those free pizzas you didn’t have during lockdown!” “That would be cheating! I wasn’t self-isolating, as I repeatedly told them.” I put the bag aside to open at a future indeterminate date.
I worked on the journal, developing the characteristic head fug. Phil went to the co-op. Somehow, he got the shopping lists muddled and bought all the wrong stuff. Annoyed, I calmed down to come up with a new meal plan so the missing items could wait another day. Afternoon siestas reverted to type. With no rest, I turned to reading The Big Issue I’d got at the weekend. Incredulous that much of the content whinged about lockdown and lauded herd immunity, I then realised it was over a month old. Much as I supported the primary aims of the magazine, I disgustedly threw it aside, vowing not to buy it again. The hastily revised dinner was a lot more work than anticipated. I forgot to cook accompanying spuds, became stressed and felt worse than ever.
Billed as V day, the first Pfizer vaccines in the world were administered to old people and NHS staff. A baby giraffe born at Whipsnade Zoo was named after trailblazer Margaret Keenan. As 2 NHS workers had allergic reactions, I wondered if I should be wary with my penicillin allergy. The Yorkshire Dales and North Yorks Moors were declared Dark Sky Areas, as starlings made murmeration shapes resembling swans and Christmas stockings at Fairburn Ings. “How do they know it’s that time of year?” I asked. “They know everything!” Intoned Phil.
Having a Laugh
Nasal symptoms eased off Wednesday, but I was still wobbly and fatigued. Using the wrong list meant no bananas for breakfast . Phil topped the cereal with frozen blueberries. They’d gone a bit wrinkly in the freezer but re-hydrated quickly in the milk. Jokes in the annual Gold TV competition, were mainly Covid and/or Christmas related. I didn’t agree with their top pick: ‘What’s Dominic Cumming’s favourite Christmas song? Going Home for Christmas’. But some had me in stiches.
On The Daily Politics, someone we house-shared with in London harped on about Brexit. Struggling to follow her egghead social media posts in the intervening years, it was hard to believe we were once friends with that weird woman! Self-isolating again, Keir took part in PMQs via zoom. With Brexit talks on a ‘knife edge’, he asked what happened to the ‘oven-ready’ deal? The Bumbler waffled about the withdrawal agreement but everyone knew that wasn’t the same as a trade deal.
Phil went to the post office on my behalf, then bought the right stuff from the shops he’d failed to get the previous day. Bizarrely quick, he reported no queues. Frustratedly unable to go out Christmas shopping, I trawled the internet and eventually found a gift. With limited clues on the condition of the item, I hoped I’d done the right thing and it wouldn’t be too shabby. Dinner became fraught again as spaghetti got poured down the sink.
Bradford University research into panic-buying concluded it gave people a sense of control. As we said this back in March, they could have asked us and saved loads of money! With a Brexit deal still looking dicey, controversial clauses of the internal market bill had been dropped and The Bumbler went to Brussels for dinner with Ursula Von De Leyen. Served scallops followed by turbot (i.e., fish and more fish), they were having a laugh. The soup should have been Vichyssoise not pumpkin, to reflect the German/French axis! Inevitably, there was no breakthrough but both sides vowed to keep talking until Sunday. Ports already jammed with containers in the wrong place because of the pandemic, and a ban on non-essential travel to Europe because of Covid restrictions, we predicted pandemonium after the likely no-deal Brexit. Little did we know it would arrive sooner than anticipated…
Ridiculously, Boris likened the EU’s insistence on a ‘level playing field’ to twins being forced to have the same haircut or buy the same handbag. Ursula poured scorn on the analogy, saying the UK would be sovereign to do what it liked, but there’d be consequences.
As the first of the Christmas cards arrived Thursday, we discussed the idea of doing a spoof ‘round robin’. Phil suggested listing all the telly we’d watched, but was hard-pressed to remember it all. I used the journal as a basis to summarise events. After 3 days work, I decided it was boring.
Brexitcast made some good points on why the EU wouldn’t back down. They knew the UK would further diverge from the bloc in future, thus wanted to agree the regulatory framework now. Liam Fox said it was nothing to do with trade but the rules, echoing my views on the dominance of France and Germany.
I started to feel better at bedtime and hoped to be well the next day. Alas, I tossed and turned. The meditation soundtrack sent me to sleep but I woke very early Friday, extremely fatigued after a fitful night. Resigned to another day in bed, stupid Microsoft proceeded to do yet another update. A notification said it would re-start in an hour even though I programmed it to do so overnight. Unable to re-schedule the shutdown, I got through a few minor tasks before the noon deadline, when it promptly turned off and spent 3 hours installing the blasted updates. Fuming at being unable to write, I managed a bit of tidying up and opened the gift bag from the caring elf, to discover it was mainly all food, including stale doughnuts. It was a good job I hadn’t left it until Christmas!
Naval boats stood by in the channel. Phil asked: “are we at war with France yet?” At the mindless briefing, Matt Cock announced school testing in London. Some also took place at a limited number of schools in Calderdale. Nowhere near on the scale as in the capital, this yet again proved the persistence of the north/south divide. Because he was a big loser, The Trump disgustingly acted like a despot, not granting the customary stays of execution for death row inmates. “He should be sent to the chair himself for that. He definitely has the wrong stuff!”
Left Out In The Cold
On the mend Saturday, I sat in the living room until late morning before returning to bed, still feeling very achy, tired and so cold! The gey drizzle didn’t help. I caught up by tasks left incomplete due to the computer update.
Terrible weather persisted into Sunday. Phil chanced the town centre. On mainly quiet streets, the kebab shop had migrated to an outdoor stall playing jolly Christmas songs, causing mirth. Overnight, I had an idea to re-work the boring ‘round robin’. I spent the day on ‘2020 – a year of the coronavirus by numbers’ which I hoped was funnier.
Sarah Gilbert of Oxford University predicted a rise in coronavirus infections in January after the permitted Christmas mixing, as had happened in the USA post-Thanksgiving. As cases in Germany rose to 3 times the number in spring, schools and non-essential shops shut and alcohol sales were banned, putting paid to their seasonal jollity.
On the day ex-spy and author John le Carré died, the latest Brexit deadline passed. Talks continued amidst varying claims of concessions by both sides, leading to speculation on a possible cold war. Or was that cod war? Ed Millipede got rather worked up on The Marr, saying “no deal is a disastrous outcome for the country,” and likened the governments’ stubbornness to bulldozing the house because it had a leaky roof. Rabid Raab complained of moving goalposts on the level playing field again. Why hadn’t the wimpy tories done what the hardliners wanted and ‘just left’ 4 years ago? We’d be over it and have a new trade deal by now!
References:
i. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com
ii. ‘2020 – a year of the coronavirus by numbers’: https://maryc1000.blogspot.com/2020/12/2020-year-of-coronavirus-by-numbers.html
The Corvus Diaries 