“Watching the people get lairy. It’s not very pretty I tell thee” (Kaiser Chiefs)
Batman Returns (And Goes Back Again)
On a typically dismal Monday, I waded through fatigue and spells of light-headedness to get on with stuff. Phil kindly made a dash to the convenience store for large envelopes to post calendars. Having braved the nasty weather, he’d forgotten to take money so had to do it again! As my head drooped from writing, I went upstairs for a spot of yoga and relaxation which didn’t help. Neither did evening viewing of 3 episodes of the insane but compulsive Preacher on Prime.
200 days since the first official case in the UK, 4k Covid patients were in hospital; more than ever. With 60% of those in the north, Nightingale hospitals in Manchester, Harrogate and Sunderland went on standby. The government briefing confirmed the tiers: 1 – Medium – national measures. 2 – High – local restrictions but we could now socialise outdoors; affecting the same areas as before plus South Yorkshire, Notts, East and West Cheshire and some High Peak. 3 – Very High – no household mixing in or outdoors, advice against travelling, no pubs unless food was served. “Bring on the plates of chips and pickled eggs!” we suggested. In an effort to clarify, Minister Jenrick said a pasty on a plate with side salad would qualify as ‘a meal’. Who on earth ever ordered that? Maybe they could copy an idea from the states where food was rented out to boozers. Liverpool City Region immediately went into tier 3. The local authority also closed gyms and casinos in return for a tailored financial package. This prompted other areas to request being moved up the levels to get the dosh. It was bad news for The Batman as he’d just recommenced filming in Liverpool, postponed from March. The cameras packed up again after 3 days.
The tier system would come into force Wednesday following a commons vote on Tuesday, to be reviewed every 4 weeks. Witless displayed his daft curves again and Rishi Rich announced premises grants and ‘more generous’ benefits without spelling them out. There would also be more money for local areas to enforce the rules and carry out TIT (about bloody time!) Kier expressed scepticism: “… that the government has actually got a plan to get control of this virus, to protect jobs or retain public trust.”
I Predict A Riot
Mixed messages between the ‘Rethink, Reskill, Reboot’ scheme and the Culture Recovery Fund caused a clash. Oliver Dowdy said the advert suggesting a ballet dancer retrain to cyber was ‘crass’. Inevitable memes followed. I had a go at the questionnaire aka Covid job re-training quiz. Simplistic at best, it picked up I was creative but suggested boring jobs like advertising exec rather than writer, photographer, or painter. iii
I woke on a wet, miserable Tuesday with a bunged up nose. Embarking on my morning exercise routine, light-headedness soon returned, coupled with dizziness. Lying down again, I assessed the symptoms, which varied from the usual sinusitis. My temperature stayed normal but I felt deep-down weary and the dizzy spells were new. A quick google allayed my fears of anything serious. Resigned to the day in bed, I fetched the laptop and worked on the journal. Phil set off late afternoon to mail calendars, discovering the post office shut at 3 p.m. We had no idea why. Failing to rest properly, I went to the kitchen to find he’d cleaned it. Unhappy at being debilitated again, it cheered me slightly that the chores were getting done.
Deputy Chief Medic Van Dam admitted there’d been a focus on London and the South East when national lockdown was lifted in the summer – so not the virus targeting Liverpool as some idiot on BBC Breakfast said. In parliament, the government won the voting on the 3 tier system and the pub curfew although 42 tories rebelled.
The Cock rubbished the Great Barrington Declaration – a global petition calling for a variation of herd immunity, originating in the USA and signed by 6,000 scientists worldwide including the Guppy-Fish. Surely I couldn’t be agreeing with him? Khan said London would reach a ‘trigger point’ invoking stricter measures within days. As scientist’s pleas for a ‘circuit breaker’ was only just raised in parliament, Keir said the government no longer “followed The Science”. The bods wanted a 2 week national lockdown, to allow TIT to be fixed, possibly over half-term. They also called for working at home to be the norm indefinitely, on-line university lectures and pub closures.
NI was implementing the idea by adding an extra week to half-term with pubs shut for 4 weeks. Polls showed that most people would support the ‘circuit breaker’, putting health before economics, in spite of unemployment being the highest for a decade.
Phil joined me in feeling unwell Wednesday. I went to get the breakfast cereal, testing my legs. The achiness and fatigue this induced confirmed I needed to stay in bed; for several days as it turned out. Headaches predictably returned after a spot of writing, even though the Cool Places entry didn’t take longii. During quiet time, I read a lot but relaxed little. When I stood up, my headache was worse.
Turning up to PMQs in a wrongly-buttoned shirt, The Bumbler unbelievably accused Keir of opportunism and insisted the tories were working to effectively defeat the virus – what? Like you had done since March, you doofus! With worries that Christmas would be ‘cancelled’, Boris made jokes about not seeing the in-laws – people with dead relatives didn’t find it funny. Packed streets in Liverpool on the last night for pubs, brought ‘shame’ on the city, said the mayor and the police chief. Speculation grew that Manchester and Lancs would be next to move into tier 3. Wales threatened a border to stop people going on holiday from English ‘hotspots’, Scotland’s central belt and NI. A Sage bod said it was now too late for a ‘circuit breaker’ during October half-term but one in December could still help reduce deaths. We discussed the daft patchwork of restrictions. So-called journalists added to the confusion. Some still referred to the ‘traffic lights’ even though the colours didn’t match and when asked to clarify which postcode areas were included in tier 2, a Look North reporter advised: “check your bins.” Very scientific I’m sure! So far, dissent had entailed milling about drunk after closing time. Surely it was only a matter of time before people cottoned on that they were not going to be arrested and come up with other ideas to push the envelope. How much would people take before there was outright dissent?
Go Fish!
Thursday, I expunged the worst of the dust from the bedroom. Becoming breathless, I planned an art day, and went to fetch materials. Conscious of wearing bedclothes with workmen right outside the front window (where they’d been all week), I got into a strop when I couldn’t find the coloured pencils. By the time I got back to bed, I was exhausted. Noise on the other side of the house signified more workmen. Noseying through the window, I got a good view of lampposts being replaced by Highway Maintenance on the street below (as they’d done on our street last Friday). A large crane fished the old one out, to be replaced by what looked like a re-furb. The procedure entailed cutting down a washing line. I wryly commented: “I’m surprised the residents haven’t come out and complained it’s a private street” (as they often claimed. It was in fact unadopted but try telling them there’s a difference!) Even more surprising, someone returned to the house and didn’t bat an eyelid. I took photos of the colourful autumn trees, posting a panorama on Facebook. On what would have been mum’s birthday, I meant to post something in memoriam but with a dearth of family snaps, had nothing suitable. Elder Sis did the honours with a lovely photo of mum. After dinner, I stayed up to watch a telly film but as my back ached mightily, I went back to bed and had an exceptionally good night, only waking once.
Birmingham council disgustingly dished out used tests to student in Selly Oaks. With no agreement on Manchester or Lancs moving up to tier 3, the government said it would happen ‘with or without you.’
Burnman retorted that the north was being treated like “the canary in the coalmine” and threatened legal action. London, Essex, York, Barrow, NE Derbyshire and Chesterfield would move into tier 2, as of midnight Saturday. As cases rose in Europe, Germany called for a unified rather than state approach and France imposed a 9 p.m. curfew in several regions. Medical experts told us so-called ‘Long Covid’ was actually 4 different things: long-term Covid syndrome, post-intensive care syndrome, permanent organ damage and post – viral fatigue. Good grief!
After 3 days of ‘intensive talks’ before the deadline Boris had set for a Brexit deal, he wimped out to await the outcome of the EU summit. Friday, the sticking points of state aid rules and fishing remained. The Bumbler declared no deal unless the EU ‘changed their approach’.
Meanwhile, 18 French trawlers attacked 2 British boats fishing for scallops in the Channel, firing flares and throwing oil, rocks and even frying pans at them. Apparently sparked by British scallopers being allowed to fish year-round while the French were banned between May and October. Well, at least they’d be able to fry the scallops!
Mind Your Own
Really fed up Friday, Phil made a sterling effort to raise my spirits with his apple art, creating a very cute robot. After a bit of writing, I designed a Christmas card. With no snow last winter, I used a photo of bare trees and gushing water. Some Photoshop magic produced pleasing results. Although I still developed ‘head fug’, it made a change manipulating pictures rather than words. Meanwhile, Phil went out to the co-op and the post office in good time. Even worse than anticipated, the queue stretched along the street and onto the towpath. Unable to rest in the afternoon, my head felt even heavier making me miserable again. I ventured down to get snacks, became incensed at a series of minor irritations and swore loudly before stomping back to bed. Phil, still resting, started in his doze. He later crept about like a mouse saying “sorry” in a tiny voice. “It’s not your fault. This fatigue and splitting headache is getting to me.”
Lancs agreed to move into tier 3 restrictions with a ‘bespoke deal’. Liverpool mayor Joe Anderson complained they’d been offered more and the new system was already an “inconsistent mess” #shambles.
A dull weekend ensued, inside and out. Saturday, I chanced getting dressed and made a start on breakfast but as Phil came to help, we got in each other’s way and it became fractious. I brooded on the sofa, berating myself for getting so worked up over so little – it only made me feel worse and Phil feel bad too. I again explained to him it was due to being fed up with my own feebleness rather than anything he’d done. I went back upstairs, and felt a bit better by evening so hoped that was a good sign.
However, I hardly slept. Thus on Sunday, I felt worse and sunk into deeper depression. Despite ailing himself, Phil brought breakfast in bed. I should have given my eyes a rest from PC-based stuff, but had an idea for the journal and worked on finding salient quotes for most of the day.
On The Marr, Burnman perhaps disingenuously, said resistance to GMC moving up the tiers wasn’t about money and called for a commons vote on extra support in high risk areas. He claimed infection rates in his patch had actually dropped and the earlier spike had most likely been caused by the biggest student population on the planet. Glove Puppet accused him of ‘political posturing’ and went on to lie through his teeth about Brexit, saying they didn’t want a no deal which would be ‘no picnic’ – unbelievable! Adam Marshall, Director General of the British Chambers of Commerce, called it a pantomime. Southern tories in tier 1 areas wrote to Andy Burnman telling him to stop being selfish. Northern tories told them to mind their own business. Former chancellor Lamont said the cycle of tightening and loosening restrictions was “deeply damaging to business and not really a strategy…. The government ought to set out how it intends to exit.”
Weekend crowds abounded. A convoy of Hells Angels roared through the valley – were they on the rampage? Twitchers flocked to Norfolk for the sighting of a bird not seen for 40 years. The rufous bush chat looked like a scruffy sparrow to me; maybe not surprising if it was 40 years old! Drinkers drunk outside pubs in tier 2 areas. The curfew rendered French bars deserted after 9 but populous rallies were held across the country over the beheading of teacher Simon Paty by a Daesh nutter.
References:
i. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com
ii. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/
iii. National Careers Service. Discover Your Skills and Careers: https://beta.nationalcareers.service.gov.uk/
The Corvus Diaries 