“The question for us now is to be or not to be… now I can give you a definitive answer. It’s definitely yes, to be” (Volodymry Zelensky)
Years And Years
Getting off to an iffy start, there was much to do before our trip the first weekend of March. Assailed by a cold wind despite the sunshine on the way to the station, I noted trees felled by recent storms and strange amber leaking from stumps in the park. Collecting train tickets, I found a seat reservation in the machine and handed it to the booking office. Whoever left it behind wouldn’t be happy on the day of 3.9% train fare hikes, the biggest for 9 years. The Bus Recovery Grant was extended to October in what the DoT called ‘the final tranche of pandemic-related support to operators’. As the March 1st marked the start of meteorological spring, St. David’s’ day and Shrove Tuesday, we celebrated the latter with a variation on Mexican pancakes. Butternut squash was a great addition even with the extra cooking.
A scratchy throat overnight, I was tempted to stay abed Wednesday but didn’t. I posted the last journal entry before a break, packed a case and opened the top bedroom cupboard searching for a bag when the curtain pole clattered to the floor! At least it didn’t land on my head this time. Lacking the energy to get cross, I exclaimed in mild annoyance. Phil agreed the stupid changeable weather was to blame and allowed more time for new plaster to dry before reinstalling the pole, temporarily pinning the curtain up.
Ukrainian Ambassador to the UK Vadym Prystaiko got a standing ovation from MPs at PMQs. Applause not normally allowed in the commons, Lindsay Hoyle made an exception for ‘his excellency’. Ukraine ambassador to the USA, Oksana Markarova guested at the State of the Union address, where Uncle Joe said Putin had ‘no idea what’s coming’, but republicans whinged the latest sanctions were too little too late.
Thursday, I texted The Researcher with thanks for the coffee and ideas for exhibition venues, deleted a pile of dross e-mails and booked places on a free workshop (part of the arts festival) before shopping. In nasty grey drizzle, red water flowed downstream and sand edged the road – was there flooding? A ruddy-faced driver testily informed me the pavement was on the other side. I shouted back: “Thanks Mr. Bleeding Obvious!” Phil later said I should’ve yelled ‘eff off, gammon!’ The market crap, I got a few items in the convenience store and walked back on the main road, tricky with barriers on the pavement, and spotted a woman I knew from art classes. A fellow walker, she read my Valley Life articles and I suggested she might also like the workshop. She said maybe we’d meet for a walk one day but as we’d pledge to do that years ago, I didn’t hold my breath.
Giving into pressure, IOC banned Russian and Belarussian athletes from the Paralympics. The port of Kherson was the first Ukrainian city to fall to invading troops. A tank convoy edged towards Kyiv, Russian schoolkids got a lesson on why NATO was evil and Serge again threatened global nuclear war. Did someone say 1984? In the latest conflagration in the Bradford district, Dalton Mills, Keighley was destroyed.
Cloudy again Friday, at least it was dry. Going to the station, Phil’s case handle fell off. I pointed out it wasn’t zipped at the bottom to which he retorted that wasn’t his immediate problem. “It is if all your clothes fall out!” Glad we weren’t going to Chester as that train was cancelled, ours was on time for a scenic ride. The sun emerged as we approached The Fylde and stayed thus for most of Phil’s birthday weekend, which was a first for off-season in Blackpool (see Cool Places 2i).
Quite a struggle to be out of the apartment Monday, we just made it by checkout time. I paused in the garden to re-distribute weight in a heavy rucksack when the landlady appeared. Enquiring after our stay, I mentioned Phil’s birthday. “21 again?” she asked wryly. Back in our home town, it felt years since we last walked the canal, especially as changes were afoot at the lock. The house freezing and Phil hangry, we hurried to reheat Lancs pasties. I began unpacking (but didn’t finish till later in the week), took rubbish out, uploaded photos and rested. Metro not downloading, I suspected Northern Rail wi-fi had messed up the internet connection. Almost asleep on unbelievably achy legs, it took some time to get any sleep.
According to John Hopkins University, 6 million people worldwide had now died of Covid and many suffered from shrunken brains. Grey matter decreased by up to 2%, making complex tasks harder but training could help. Weekend promises of ceasefires unfulfilled, Russia continued to shell Ukrainian cities, deliberately killed civilians and announced so-called safe corridors to Russia and Belarus – were they having a laugh? Amidst what the UN refugee agency called ‘the fastest-growing refugee crisis in Europe since WW2’ (1 million so far), UK government rhetoric unsurprisingly proved to be a load of crap as no visas were available at Calais, leaving evacuees stuck in France. HMRC withdrew the winding up order so Liberty Steel stayed open, but the long-term future remained uncertain. The Doncaster Great Drain Robbery was solved when cops stopped a car full of manhole covers after a tip-off.
As I hadn’t worn a mask the whole weekend, I didn’t bother in the co-op Tuesday. It wasn’t very busy anyway. I saw an old art teacher who told me she had a new studio near the canal. Saying it was freezing, she advised waiting for warmer weather to pop in. On the way back, a quartet of geese sat on the street below. A Woman smoking a fag on her doorstep guessed they expected food.
Volodymyr Zelensky historically addressed The Commons via live video-link from Kyiv, quoting Shakespeare and paraphrasing Churchill. To his pleas, Boris reiterated they couldn’t impose a no-fly zone but sanctioned more Russian oligarchs including Abramovich a couple of days later. Chelsea FC in limbo, Phil uncharitably hoped they’d go bankrupt before the end of the season.
Slightly iffy on Wednesday, I stayed in to edit Blackpool photos, posted a haiga and watch PMQs. Keir asked about a U-turn on energy costs and windfall taxes, and others queried the number of Ukrainian refugees allowed into the UK – 1,000 was pathetic when other countries had accepted tens of thousands. Why did they insist on normal visa checks and put an extra processing centre in Lille of all places? We agreed Nasty Patel was not just evil but also incompetent. “Not for nothing is she called Pritti Hopeless!”
Decent sleep three nights running, I felt cheerier on Thursday until I remembered leaving an annoyingly slow laptop to update and waited years for it to spark up so I could write. Phil fixed the bedroom curtain pole. Plagued all day by a whiny crane wince, siesta time was even less effective than usual.
Previously unhit eastern and western Ukrainian cities were bombed as Antalya hosted the highest level ‘peace talks’ so far. Serge told a pack of lies and wouldn’t settle for anything less than total surrender. Reports of deliberate targeting of maternity and children’s hospitals and use of thermobaric bombs emerged. Heineken, Starbucks and Coca Cola ceased trading in Russia. Phil’s Shitterstock questions were all war-related with Ukrainians asking how to get cash and Russians asking how to pretend they weren’t Russian!
Friday was warm enough to ditch leggings under jeans for the first time of the year, but it didn’t last. I found a mislaid curtain ring in the bedroom so Phil took them down yet again! The co-op busy, I navigated round dithering gammons, sighed at gaps on shelves and gasped at the price of filters. But I did get £4 off groceries with a member’s offer.
Global Covid rates fell by 5% on the previous week and deaths by 8%. But they rose 46% in the Western Pacific. Overcome by omicron, Hong Kong had 150 deaths daily, prompting mass quarantine. Caused by the infectiousness of sub-variant B.A2, more mixing and waning boosters, ONS revealed a week-on-week rise for the first time since January across the UK. Highest in Wales at 1:13 people, Scotland had the most ever at 1:18. Up mainly in the over 55’s, hospital cases rose 9%. With no scientific justification to boost the healthy, WHO DG Tedros Adhamon bade rich countries send vaccine to Africa.
At the weekend, I baked banana cake, posted blogs and wrote a haiga. Roused by sparkling skies Sunday, I got ready for a walk, stepped outside and declared the wind too biting. The trellis had blown down again. Phil was fixing it when next-door-but-one told him Elderly neighbour had died. Obviously at ‘end of life’, at least her husband was prepared for it. Unwilling to disturb him, I posted a card through the letterbox and potted salvaged veg ends. Phil popped to the co-op, helped with some clearing up then abandoned me to sit on the kerb watching footie on his phone – Leeds won for a change.
Monday sunny with a delightful breeze, I hung washing on the line and headed out to see the woman next door burning paper in her garden. The smoke blew straight at my sheets. Phil joked she was destroying spy code. It turned out to be personal documents and I offered use of our shredder in future. She then waylaid me discussing the deceased neighbour and the war. Versions of events from her Polish relatives straying into conspiracy theory territory, I extricated myself. Walking Friend appeared behind me at the co-op till, visibly pained with neuralgia from vicious moorland wind. “Well, if you will go hiking in all weathers!“ We arranged to go for lunch Wednesday. Late afternoon, Phil took his camera to town but the decent light gone by then, he just went to the shop.
Over the weekend, Russia widened bombardment to Ukrainian cities previously considered safe. The UK government announced The Homes For Ukraine Sponsorship Scheme wherein you got £350 a month to host refugees. But you had to know them so they could get visas. Lisa Nandy likened the hair-brained plan to a dating app. “They’ll do anything apart from take action themselves! Utterly useless!“ I spluttered. Phil reckoned it was a ruse for Boris’ mansion-dwelling mates. Foisted on NGOs with no time to prepare or do proper checks, charities called it a shambles. The Refugee Council were concerned by red tape, resourcing and safeguarding issues. Nevertheless, 122,000 Brits had signed up by Thursday. Amid speculation of using oligarch’s empty properties, London Makhnovists squatted one in Belgravia owned by Oleg Deripaska. Russian TV editor Marina Ovsyannikova ran on set with signs reading ‘no war’ and ‘they’re lying to you’, risking 15 years jail. 44 migrants drowned crossing from West Africa to The Canaries in a dinghy.
No Celebrations
Walking long overdue, we left the house aimlessly on Tuesday, puzzled at weird shiny stuff round empty recycling bins and rescued a useful-looking grill-type device before going up the ancient cobbles to the upland village and down through woodland, spotting several spring wildflowers in the shape of celandine, snowdrops from which an early bee grazed, and curious larch blooms (see Cool Placesii).
Compulsory jabs for care home workers in England were scrapped and Sturgeon announced Scottish restrictions would go as planned 21st March, except face-coverings. In a show of support not endorsed by the EU, Polish, Czech and Slovenian leaders travelled by train to Ukraine.
Preparing for lunch out with Walking Friend Wednesday, she made me jump knocking as my back was turned. Too chilly and damp to sit outside the tearooms, we occupied an indoor table close to the service shelf. I flinched every time staff clattered crockery. Over mini-brekkie selections, we discussed the street art and starlings of Blackpool, her recent walks, and The Poet’s 75th birthday which I’d missed due to illness. Debating my recent mask-ditching while the Scots decided to keep them, BA.2 was on the rise and latest research suggested waning protection from jabs, I rationalised that I rarely went to pubs and never to crowded places. I nipped in the sweet shop for cough drops and a chuckle over falling asleep at work (a labour lord was scolded for snoozing during a debate). We perused a new display in the Town Hall, learning about a flood plain which preceded the town centre – that explained a lot. In Boots, I managed to pick up conditioner instead of shampoo – why did they make the packaging nigh-identical? Weary and sodden, I trudged home. In the evening, I re-arranged the Manchester trip, placed an Ocado order and donated to DEC for Ukraine. That night, a whirring mind and a bright almost-full Worm Moon hampered sleep. I eventually dropped off using the meditation soundtrack and woke in early grey gloam with achy arms.
Russia bombed the historic theatre in Mariupol. Of 1,300 civilians sheltering in the basement, 300 were subsequently found dead. Putin ranted about ‘unpatriotic’ Russians who lived abroad chomping foie-gras, calling them scum and traitors. Did that include his daughter with her London mansion? After 6 years imprisonment, Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe and two others returned from Iran. The government had finally paid the tank debt. Why didn’t they do it years ago?
Exhausted and heavy-headed from lack of sleep, I forced myself up Thursday. Watching news, Phil commented emotive words concerning the war were nauseating. I replied it caused me deep-down sadness and considered taking in a refugee but we agreed it wasn’t feasible; charity donations would have to do. As I hung washing on the line, the neighbour from the end toddled past on sticks, making progress after a hip operation. As a shower descended, she advised leaving the laundry out while I went to the market. On my return, Phil was heading for Leeds.
Three weeks since all restrictions were lifted, covid infections rose by 68% in our region within a week. Leeds Prof Mark Harris said ditching masks was premature and when free testing ended, we’d have no way of tracking the virus. Andrew Lee of Sheffield wasn’t unduly concerned about BA.2; although more infectious, deaths stayed low. Meanwhile, New Zealand would admit jabbed Aussies from 12th April followed by travellers from other visa-waiving countries 1st May. BoE raised the interest rate to .75% and P&O sacked 800 staff via zoom, replacing them with agency workers. Dubai owner DP World said they’d lost £100 million during the pandemic (even after tons of government money for furlough) and the ferry company wasn’t viable in its current state. As armed guards came to escort them off ships, seafarers on the Pride of Hull mutinied. The RMT and MPs decried the action and government said they’d look into its legality – surely they knew it was illegal! Ed Millipede attended weekend demos and Mick Lynch claimed foreign agency workers got a derisory £1.81 per hour. It took 10 minutes for Ben Wally to realise a call purportedly from the Ukrainian PM, was actually Russian spies – what a doofus!
On QT, Ukrainian MP Lesia Vasylenko was very civil about the lack of military help, thanked the British public for their support and requested we stop buying goods from companies still operating in Russia, including M&S. I considered amending my Ocado order but didn’t get round to it. Lord Frosty Gammon complained to Newscast that namby-pamby liberals rendered decision-making difficult. He didn’t mention the Festival of Brexit, which was apparently underway all over the place. He patently saw no reason to celebrate.
After another bright night complete with a high moon, frosty roofs sparkled in sunshine Friday morning. Phil said the ‘Pageant Master’ on BBC Breakfast sounded more like a fantasy film character than organiser of the queen’s anniversary celebrations. In the co-op, I found bacon in the corner where pizzas used to live – had it been there all along? Shocked at the cost of baccy, I asked at the kiosk if I’d missed the budget. The cashier replied the prices changed weekly. I’d never heard that before! At least I had another £4 coupon towards the groceries. Phil came to help carry and giggle at a gaggle of geese squatting on the street below. A friend’s mum soaking up rays outside her house reckoned they picked at moss between the cobbles rather than waiting to be fed.
ONS figures showed 1:20 Brits had covid week ending 12th March. 1:14 in Scotland, they had the most hospitalisations ever, but Sturgeon went ahead relaxing measures from Monday. All remaining covid travel restrictions were scrapped from 4.00 a.m. UK-wide, with contingencies for ‘extreme circumstances’. Lviv, the main exit point for refugees and entry point for aid, was pounded. So on the anniversary of annexing Crimea, which Putin celebrated with a rally, there was no such thing as a Ukrainian ‘safe city’. RT’s UK licence was revoked.
Attempting to prevent Saturday hangovers, I’d bought low alcohol wine but wobbly and phlegmy on Saturday, I blamed the histamines in the sickly sweet concoction. Phil reckoned it’d be nice in summer with ice. I saw a notice on Elderly Neighbour’s Facebook page. The funeral would be at a faraway crem. Sunny but windy, Phil said he was going for a walk but I didn’t feel up to it after being out twice during the week leading to severe tiredness. I washed the bedroom curtains we’d taken down last month and hung them on the line, disposed of a dead rubber plant and used the pot for an oversized money plant. The job was prolonged, partly by ridding the soil of weird green stuff and by the whipping wind. I crouched in a sunny corner when a huge gust blew a pile of dead leaves in my face! The recent widower thanked me for the card as he walked his dog past. I said it was impractical for us to go to the crem but we’d go to the more local wake. Before putting the pot back on the hearth, I decided to clean it. Taking all afternoon, it left me slightly out of breath which I suppose was good and with backache, which wasn’t. Phil went to look for rooks. He found none in the park busy with a football match or in town rammed with drinkers, tourists and a window shopper commenting: “it’s like that programme Money for Nothing!”
A bit groggy on the equinox, it wasn’t as bad as on the low-alcohol plonk. Phil unusually drank water. “It must be summer!” “No, but it is officially spring.” Tempted by the sun, I took photos of delicate flowers in our window box before we headed for the park, where families ate ice cream and teenagers picnicked. Resplendent blossom marked the start of a blooming good walk, past creamy daffodils near the station, magnificent blackthorn on the country lane and showy garden shrubs. In the next village’s refurbished co-op, we got 3 for 2 snack foods. The cashier asked did we need to pay for fuel? I should have said did we look like we had a car? Famished, we hurried up to the canal to sit on a bench overlooking the lock and stuff grub in our gobs before dogs mugged us for it. Returning home, we detoured off the towpath to explore a path over a small bridge and wondered at totems to Odin at the moorings (see Cool Placesii).
I went up early to apply massage oil to a stiff, painful shoulder. Sympathising, Phil rubbed it far too hard. The now waning moon appeared like a squishy orange in the inky cold night sky.
Mariupol a wreck, 10 million Ukrainians had fled the country, and there were claims some were forced into gulags. Boris lambasted for comparing their stand against Putin to Britons voting for Brexit, Rishi Rich distanced himself: “people can make up their own minds”, he said on Sunday Morning (not for the first time). He proceeded to mouth a pile of platitudes on fuel prices and the cost of living.
A hard frost at first, Monday warmed up slightly then turned cold and dull in the afternoon – so much for the lovely spring weather! Getting back to spring cleaning, I tackled the ‘kitchen island’, cluttered with empty jars and spider crap. I asked Phil to help scrubbing the back wall. He said he was busy. “I know. I’m only asking for a bit of help.” He obliged later. During breaks from the tedious chore, I posted a haiga, hung washing out, got rid of rubbish, booked train tickets for Manchester, messaged our friend the details and worked on blogs but had to give up with head fug.
Covid cases still rising, spring boosters were offered to over 75’s and vulnerable over 12’s. Prof Kirby nicked my line from October 2020 ‘I predict a riot’ if lockdowns were re-imposed (see part 32).
Death And Taxes
Frost-free and hazily bright on Tuesday, a bee buzzed in through the window crack in the bedroom. Phil shooed the persistent blighter out. As I urged him to bathe, he replied: “I will when I’ve done this work.” “You’re always working.” “I was very busy yesterday.” “You have to wash and eat!” Off to collect tickets again, I was frustrated by traffic on the main road, took short-cuts to the park and zigzagged to avoid loiterers. At the station, I asked a member of staff about swipe machines – not for oyster-style cards as hoped, but flexi season tickets. I whizzed round the co-op and asked my namesake at the till for a replacement ‘bag for life’ to be told they didn’t do them anymore. Instead, she gave me a compostable one, which ought to be free. “You should be glad we’re not doing plastic.” “Yes, but they’re reusable, not single-use. And why do we have to pay for bags that aren’t plastic?” What a swizz!
As the fall in covid deaths stalled, I read about Deltacron. The hybrid of Delta and Omicron arose in France mid-February, and there were 60 logged cases so far, spreading to Holland, Denmark, the US and UK. Cases in the Latter two varied from European mainland versions, suggesting multiple re-combinations.
Another greyly polluted day in the valley, I woke later on Wednesday and briefly felt the benefit of extra sleep. On finding a net bag of damp socks, I railed at never-ending chores. Downstairs, I had another fit at buried Ocado bags, dug them out before the delivery arrived and watched PMQs followed by Rishi’s spring statement. Sacked P&O workers were belatedly offered severance pay, which would entail losing rights. Boris reported they possibly acted illegally and could face fines of hundreds of millions. Keir said if he wasn’t all mouth and no trousers, he’d do something about it. Quite! There was no ‘possibly’ about it! Inflation for February at 6.2%, and National Insurance going up in April, Rishi Rich announced the threshold would rise by £3,000 from July and basic rate Income tax would fall 1% in 2024. He took 5% off fuel duty and abolished VAT on insulation, heat pumps and solar panels and green energy company tax. The household support fund for Local Authorities was doubled. Billed as a giveaway, Paul Johnson of IFS said it only benefited rich pensioners and landlords. There was certainly nothing in it for us. Tax increases disguised as cuts, Rachel Reeves likened it to Alice in Sunak-land. And what did he mean the ‘work starts today’? they’d had 12 years! The Bumbler later hinted at more help with the cost of living in autumn.
Cleaning the bedroom I found more dust lumps on the bedroom. Phil reckoned they went up in warmth and descended in cold. So it was bits of us! Further hampered by assorted stuff falling on the floor, I got exhausted and narky. After lunch, I tried writing but head befuddled, speculated on going outside. As it became even hazier, I lost the will. I retired early for a bath which failed to help with sleep or an achy shoulder. Unable to still my mind, the meditation soundtrack sent me into intermittent slumber.
The second anniversary of the announcement of lockdown #1 was marked by a noontime minutes silence for over 188,00 UK deaths, and buildings turning yellow. Poland wanted a NATO peace-keeping force in Ukraine which Serge said was asking for war. Madeleine Albright died of cancer, aged 84.
Despite the lack of sleep, I was determined to make the overdue trip over to Manchester on Thursday. Unrecognisable and infested by students, it was a good job the main streets were in the same place! We had a lovely day involving culture, photography and meeting an old friend. Supping at her ‘local’, we caught up on news and experiences of covid. She became upset discussing deaths of close ones, for which I was sorry. Saying goodbye, I experienced the first hug with a friend in over 2 years! (see Cool Places 2i).
Having grazed on convenience food all day, I relished leftover bean salad for dinner. They didn’t seem to eat veg in Manchester! Exhausted, I tried to still my churning mind by concentrating on the hooting of an owl when the stupid generator started droning. The mediation soundtrack allowed a few fitful hours.
On QT, Mark Serwotka of PCS, said Rishi’s inadequate response showed he didn’t know, understand or care. Dom 2 Jollies called him an alien and the stupid photo-op wherein he borrowed a car and struggled to swipe a card, demonstrated he was out of touch. Lemon-sucking Demon Hinds tried to defend the awful government. Lisa Nandy yelled that not a word he said was true. An audience member echoed my question on why refugees from different countries were tret differently? Why not sponsor an Afghan? “Cos they don’t pick cabbages!” Phil answered. P&O boss Paul Hebbletwit admitted they broke the law not consulting as unions wouldn’t have sanctioned the fire and re-hire but claimed Grant Shats knew of the plot in November. Mark insisted the practice allowed on the statute books by the tories, stop now. Later, Shats and Boris called for Hebbletwit to go and pledged to close the loophole in the law so companies operating from UK ports paid minimum wages. Ships subsequently seized at, Shats belatedly wrote to P&O demanding they reinstate sacked workers. Hebbletwit refused.
Rudely woken by canal engineering works early Friday, I felt unrested and drifted off frequently during the day. Decorating Neighbour’s car idled outside the house. He told me the battery was crap. “If I die of pollution I’ll know who to run to!” I joked. When I came back from the co-op, we chatted while he washed the car. Observing I looked tired, I related our trip to Manchester. He’d not been since the Arndale Centre was built! A young woman stuffed flyers in letterboxes, informing us of a nearby shoot for Happy Valley 3. We shared sightings of Sarah Lancashire and locations of previous series. “Never mind that. When The Gallows Pole comes out, it’ll be rammed” I warned.
After the Finnish PM said Boris lived in ‘Brexit la-la land’, a clip emerged of The Bumbler at a Brussels meeting isolated from other leaders. NATO members pledged troops to reinforce eastern flanks, but not to do more within Ukraine. EU figures showed 3.5 million refugees, 2.2 million in Poland. Ukrainian ombudsman Ludmyla Denisova said 402,000 were taken to Russia against their will. Not disputing the figure, the Kremlin claimed they were ‘relocated’ from Donetsk and Luhansk.
Waking early Saturday, Phil was discombobulated as the clocks had already gone forward in his head. Covid rates rising across the UK except Northern Ireland, Dr. Chris told BBC Breakfast there were less hospitalisations and fatalities because of herd immunity. Protection waned but vaccines still guarded against severe illness. I felt vindicated on my mask-ditching. I continued cleaning outside to discover a metal plant stand overgrown with ivy which took ages to extricate. Phil came out to sit in a patch of sun, do tiny work, sweep up and spot wild garlic sprouting in a pot.
Using this as a gauge, I ignored Sunday wobbliness to forage. After a hard climb up, we selected sparingly from the early growth. The clough now popular with guardian families, a small child sniffed the fragrant leaves and rubbed his tummy but his parents vetoed picking. Coming back down, small yappy dogs switched from paddling in the stream to harassing us. As I froze with fright, the owner said: “They’re alright.” “Well, I’m not!” I retorted. He obligingly brought them to heel so we could continue unimpeded.
On the anniversary of the enforcement of lockdown #1, 200,000 schoolkids were absent with covid. Taking belated offence at a GI Jane joke levelled at his wife, Will Smith hit Oscar host Chris Rock. As the academy dithered about whether to withdrawal his award, Smith gave a tearful acceptance speech, went partying and made a half-hearted apology. Headlining for days, the stunt overshadowed celebrations of diversity.
Oversleeping Monday, we were fuddled and slightly ailing. I complained of dusty layers in the box room, prompting Phil to hoover. I tackled life admin and small chores, getting distracted rearranging pots on the garden wall and discovered new flowers on the tiny plants from Christmas. Curlews wheeled in the early dawn light Tuesday. I worked on the journal and went on errands with mixed results.
Dodging marauding schoolgirls, I got nowt in the convenience store or Boots but enjoyed a good whinge in the sweet shop at soaring prices and found lampshades in the homeless charity shop. That evening, we spent ages trying to find The Ipcress File on ITV hub. After convoluted sign-in and searching, it couldn’t be found on the smart TV, even though it appeared on the website. We gave up and watched Netflix instead.
After extending Partygate interviews to 100 more revellers, The Met issued 20 fines. More to follow, Number 10 maintained Boris didn’t mislead parliament saying no rules were broken, even though this proved they were. Rayner railed: “After over 2 months of police time, 12 parties investigated and over 100 people questioned under caution…Downing Street has been found guilty of breaking the law.” The next day, Keir asked Boris at PMQs if he should resign and Rabid Raab suggested the law had clearly been breached but that didn’t mean his boss lied. A year since they began painting hearts on the wall, Hannah Brady of Covid-19 Bereaved Families accused the PM’s team of ‘regularly and blatantly’ breaking “the same rules that families across the country stuck with even when they suffered.” Peace talks resumed in Turkey. Abramovich again attended the negotiations. As it emerged he’d fallen ill at earlier meetings along with two Ukrainians, poison in the drinking water was blamed. Losing patience with NATO, Vlod hinted at pledging Ukraine’s neutrality in exchange for security guarantees and discussions over Crimea, while Russia said they were scaling back operations around Kyiv and Chernihiv to concentrate on Russian-speaking areas. Some saw glimmers of hope but others just more lies. Saudis blamed Houthi rebels for ‘jittery’ oil supplies.
Wednesday, Elder Sis got her MBE at the palace. The photos she sent blurry, better versions appeared later on Facebook. I got my brother to re-add me to the family group, even though I hated WhatsApp. Preparing for Elderly Neighbour’s wake, it started sleeting. “I’m not walking in that!” We waited at a freezing cold bus stop, alarmed at an odd kid doing strange moves under the shelter. I tracked the journey on google maps but the driver went so fast, I lost track and overshot the cricket club. Flakes blowing in our faces, we walked briskly along the road, through a little gate and across the pitch. We knew nobody in the clubhouse except The Widower. Where were all the other neighbours? We grazed the buffet, looked at photos and hovered to say hello. The Widower claimed not to know half the people either. Short speeches and a note from Adrian Lester followed. Coincidentally at the palace too, I wondered if he met Sis. The ice broken, we chatted to grandkids and a couple from Manchester. Describing our recent visit, they said they never went into the city centre. The snow seemed to stop and as a bus sailed past meaning a half hour wait for the next, we took shank’s pony using a shortcut to the canal we’d seen a woman use. Over a funny stone bridge spanning the river, moorings were bedecked with flowers and a mixed duck paddled: “Mandallard!” we declared. It soon resumed snowing so we rushed on, sheltering briefly under bridges.
Pat Valance told the S&T committee the current covid peak might be ending but with more deaths and the threat of potentially more severe variants, the road ahead was ‘lumpy and bumpy’. NAO reported £3.2 billion spent on unsuitable PPE and £700 million on storing it. Meg Hillier urged government to “get a grip.” Credit card debt rose to £1.5 billion in February. Forecourts failing to pass on fuel duty reductions, 10,000 consumers signed a petition to cut it by 40%. Fizzog uncovered at Prince Philip’s memorial service, Sturgeon was accused of hypocrisy as she extended mask-wearing in Scotland until Easter.
A snowy scene Thursday prompted Christmas jingles. Facing the window doing exercise, the sky visibly changed from grey to blue. The snow melted by noon but followed by more wintry showers, I submitted to the cold and put the heating on advance before the increased price cap kicked in.
The day before mass free testing ended in England, YouGov found 13% had never taken one and 45% still wore masks – more like 10% by my estimation. 179,000 schoolkids, 9% of teachers and 3% of hospital staff had covid, the most since January. Hospital cases the highest since February, numbers on ventilators stayed low. GDP grew 1.3% in the last quarter of 2021. Gas websites crashed as customer tried to input metre readings before the disgusting hike in the price cap and standing charges – what did that have to do with the price of fuel? Putin threatened to cut supplies of unfriendly countries who didn’t pay in roubles. Hartley-Brewer was incredibly the only one who made sense of the war or gas prices on QT. On the last Newscast before she changed jobs, Laura K interviewed Rishi Rich. Claiming: “I know it’s tough yah!” he said it wasn’t acceptable to target his wife whose dad owned Infosys which allegedly invested in Russia, but joked: ”At least I didn’t get up and slap anybody.” No mention that Akshata Murthy didn’t pay UK tax on her earnings! It was about time we celebrated the anniversary of the 1990 poll tax riots with another one!
References:
i. My Cool Places 2 blog: https://wordpress.com/posts/hepdenerose2.wordpress.com
ii. My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com
iii. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/
The Corvus Diaries 