Corvus Bulletin 11:Mind Your Pi’s and Rho’s (Covid Inquiry June-Dec 2023)

“I am listening to them. Their loss will be recognised” (Baroness Hallett)

The UK covid inquiry officially began August 2022. After the resignation of Lady Poole and 4 senior lawyers, the Scottish inquiry finally got underway 22^nd October 2023. Chair Lord Brailsford pledged to place the impact on people’s lives central. Ahead of UK public hearings mid-June, Prof. Pollard of Ox Vax (remember him?) told Newsnight not enough was being done to prepare for future pandemics. On QT, Ayesha said we must learn lessons, Lord Sumpter complained Sweden had already done theirs and government didn’t have a legal leg to stand on and, Cabinet Office (CO) bidding to block their release, weirdo tory minister Lee Rowley claimed WhatsApp messages were irrelevant.

Baroness Halibut started by promising an ‘investigation the nation deserves’ with answers to the 3 main questions of preparedness, response and lessons for the future*. ‘Excluded from sharing key evidence’, Bereaved Families lined up outside holding photos of deceased relatives. Praising their ‘dignified vigil’, Halibut assured them she listened but hoped they’d understand the difficult balance she had to strike.

On preparedness, David Cameroon didn’t accept previous underinvestment in the NHS but confessed to prioritising flu over other respiratory viruses. George Osborne didn’t regret austerity, while former CMO Sally Davies said there weren’t enough medical staff and lockdowns damaged a whole generation of children. Mark Drakeford blamed issues in Welsh care homes on Brexit dominating cabinet meetings.

Amidst the interminable blame-game, The Cock turned into the new Captain Hindsight. He deflected questions by putting the onus on everyone else for unreadiness and lack of medicines. Saying a no-deal Brexit was a distraction, he apologised for all fatalities and understood why people didn’t accept that. He then went to talk to Bereaved Families leaving actress Lorelei King, whose brother died of covid, in tears. The next day he attested that with the benefit of hindsight, an earlier first lockdown could have saved many lives, regretted not overruling advice on asymptomatic transmission and denied lying but admitted the evidence was now clear that Van Dam was right to say the ‘protective ring around care homes’ was a broken circle. Pointing to a toxic culture for needing someone to blame, he called The Scumbag a ‘malign actor’. The Scumbag tweeted he spoke rubbish. Ex-NHS CE Simon Stevens subsequently declared The Cock wanted to decide who lived and died rather than top medics.

At Phase 2 in November, former deputy CO sec Helen MacNamara who Scumbag called a cunt**, said government had no real-life experience or ‘business as usual’ model early 2020. No input from women in Number 10 nor CO meant they became effectively ‘invisible overnight’ and covid policy gaps (e.g., childcare). Told there was a plan 10 days before lockdown, she hadn’t seen one and feared thousands dead, akin to a ‘dystopian nightmare’. She returned from having covid 2^nd April to find Boris absent with it and drafted a document on how to manage when he was ill. She stated restrictions were never followed in Downing St. but as she was fined for attending a lockdown party and brought the karaoke machine to aide Hannah Young’s leaving do 18^th June 2020 as featured in the Channel 4 Partygate film, should have known better!

Lord Mark Sedwill, CO sec until autumn 2020, apologised for recommending ‘chicken pox’ parties to boost herd immunity and, so far up Bori’s arse, ‘his ankles were brown’, had pressed The Bumbler to sack The Cock. He was replaced by Simon Case who likened working in Number 10 to ‘taming wild animals’.

The Glove-Puppet apologised to Bereaved Families for mistakes, agreed lockdowns came too late, criticised tiers and said the impact on children wasn’t considered. Loath to criticise Boris in retrospect, he felt they all deserved a share. Rabid Raab disagreed with Saj that The Scumbag made Bori’s decisions. Thicky Harries admitted infected patients were discharged to care homes and claimed she warned government to safeguard kids. On Newscast, ex-civil servant Jill Rutter found ‘precautionary principles’ interesting; politicians wanting certainty before acting effectively dumped on scientists and PHE. Health threats not treated the same as others like terrorism, it was suggested that UKHSA should sit on the National Security Council.

As part of module 2, the inquiry asked if measures such as social restrictions and lockdowns were in the public interest. Pat Vallance’s diary revealed ‘Number 10 in chaos as usual’ and Boris viewed the pandemic as nature’s way of getting rid of old people. He also dismissed long-covid as ‘bollocks’. Ex mandarin Alex Thomas described an ‘anxious, chaotic and divided’ relationship between CO and No. 10 in the early days. Illustrating dysfunctionality at heart of government, Hugo Keith QC disclosed messages between Simon Case and Boris, autumn 2020: SC: always told Dom real PM but Carrie really in charge.BJ: How true, Smiley face. SC: We look like a terrible joke, I can’t cope with this. I’m going home.

The PM ‘changing strategic direction every day’, Case reached the end of his tether, took sick leave and didn’t attend the inquiry due to a ‘medical issue’ ‘Deeply sorry’ for sending the BYOB garden party e-mail May 2020, former PP Martin Reynolds said government couldn’t deal with the crisis and wrote in his diary that Boris was a weak and ineffective PM. He revealed a ‘shit list’ of people for the chop – it was shit because Scumbag wasn’t on it! Agreeing there was no plan, Boris dithered and took too long imposing lockdown, Lee Cain said it was the wrong crisis for the PMs skillset (whatever that was) but it was a huge undertaking. Keith read The Scumbag’s messages out calling government ‘useless fuck-pigs, cunts and morons’. Dom replied that minister’s incompetence was far worse than his Pi’s and Rho’s. Lord Lister disclosed Boris volunteered to be jabbed with covid live on TV. Meanwhile, claiming to have changed his phone several times and not backed them up, Rishi Rich failed to handover messages from his time as chancellor.

All the bods appeared in what was dubbed Science Week, to reveal the burden of overwork and death threats. Vallance said Boris was bamboozled by The Science and ignored advice on restrictions, believed tiers ineffective and ‘eat out to help out’ which he wasn’t consulted on, helped the spread. The Scumbag ‘happy to see people die’, diary notes showed ministers’ surprise when the CMO piped up. Chris Witless agreed the pandemic preparedness plan wasn’t useful, although lack of data and testing early March 2020 was the big problem. Lockdown #1 a bit late, there were no good options and he advised Van Dam to wait for more data before declaring an epidemic. With hindsight, they could have done things differently. ‘Absolutely not’ consulted on ‘eat out to help out’, Van Dam found out about it on telly and felt allowing mass gatherings spring 2020 ‘unhelpful’. At PMQs, Gareth Thomas asked why Vallance said Rishi didn’t take his advice but 2 years ago, Boris declared they always followed The Science. Rishi spouted the usual lies.

Mass media coverage patchy, a BBC News presenter speaking MLE (Multicultural London English) was almost unintelligible. On Newscast, Laura K. thought the inquiry confirmed how bad things were with government almost imploding, Brexit creating factions and civil servants struggling to grapple with policy. Jo Co asked her Daily Politics panel: who was to blame for the toxic culture – Boris or The Scumbag? Err, the PM appointed them! Due to the 3-cunt rule, HIGNFY used country house instead to ridicule the goings-on. Positing the inquiry was a waste of time, Jeremy Vine queried why it didn’t investigate if covid originated in a Chinese lab. Because that’s not what it’s about you idiot! Even more idiotic, a caller declared the hearings a disgrace and an insult to the bereaved and hoped they didn’t get paid. I suggested she didn’t know what an inquiry was, but Phil reckoned many people didn’t want to contemplate culpability. Others had all-but forgotten about it as evinced by my visit to an elderly neighbour. When I knocked on her door in October, she felt unwell. “Can I help?” “No, I’m waiting for it to work through; it’s one of those things; you know, that thing everyone had 3 years ago and we had to wear masks.” “Covid?” “That’s it!”

Still being grilled in December, The Cock said he resigned over his affair with Gina Colander as he was accountable for not following the rules and that sooner lockdowns could have prevented school closures Jan 2021. He praised Liverpool mayor Joe Anderson for cooperation and regretted he was no longer with us – Joe tweeted he just took his pulse and was still here! Criticising Bunman for putting politics before health by failing to agree a support package, Bunman retorted the problem was with Cock. Attending in person, Bunman complained of London-centric decision-making and fellow Metro Mayor Khan whinged of exclusion.

Allegedly preparing for a year, Boris appeared at the inquiry for 2 days early December, arriving under cover of darkness at 7.00 a.m. sporting a GTFC bobble hat – much to the chagrin of Grimbarians. ‘Deeply sorry’ for pain, loss and suffering, 4 protestors brandishing papers reading ‘the dead can’t hear your apologies’ were ejected. The Bumbler admitted to male-dominated meetings and misjudging scale: “It would certainly be fair to say of me, the entire Whitehall establishment, scientific community…we underestimated the scale and the pace of the challenge…We should have collectively twigged much sooner. I should have twigged.” Defending the overall approach, he denied excess UK deaths second only to Italy, said he didn’t sack The Cock (who’d gone off to do ‘Who Dares Wins’) because he was ‘intellectually able’ and doing his best, conceded tiers didn’t work leading to lockdown #2, was perplexed at scientists’ claims of being unaware of ‘eat out to help out’ and denied advocating letting the virus rip. Not reconciled with deaths, he knew from experience how horrid it was and focused on saving lives. Regretful of Partygate, he claimed public perception of events was a million miles from what actually happened. CO losing its legal challenge to block full release of his documents, a pleased Halibut expected to receive material pronto, but Boris forgot his old phone’s passcode. Needing help to retrieve it, he couldn’t explain why messages disappeared and blathered about WhatsApp going down and coming back up again with data erased.

Rishi apologised to all sufferers but defended ‘eat out to help out’ which he didn’t believe was risky and denied not consulting medics. Panned for putting money before lives, some claimed it saved the hospitality sector, others that it made little difference. Unaware The Treasury was called a death squad, he repeatedly said ‘I don’t recall’ before the inquiry was adjourned until 2024.

Outside the inquiry, a plethora of evidence emerged, proving cronies still got away with it. A study by the Best for Britain group found government wasted £100bn over 4 years on ‘crony contracts’, ‘duff deals’ and ‘outrageous outgoings’ including £15bn on unusable PPE, £140m on the unlawful Rwanda deal, £2bn scrapping HS2, and ½ bn on unused post-Brexit custom inspection sites. £14.9bn PPE written off, plus £3.3bn for TIT, PAC found no proper controls and an inventory impossible 3 years on. Chair Meg Hillier understood pressures at the pandemic’s outset, but lax controls and finance didn’t help, creating a huge challenge of what to do with stockpiles. Finding UKHSA unable to prepare auditable accounts and Jenny Harries lacking ‘technical experience’, Jenny countered she was working with DHSC to overcome ‘inherited’ financial challenges.

On a Medi pro documentary, Michelle Moan confessed she knew about the PPE deal but it was nowt to do with her. She then informed Laura K. that while she lied, she did nothing wrong or illegal. Hubby Doug Barrowman confirmed Moan could be a beneficiary of the £60m profit:’ that’s what you do when you make money’ (splutter!) Wondering who thought the interview was a good idea, Wes Streeting railed at people getting away with ripping the country off and reiterated labour plans for a covid corruption commissioner. Amidst a criminal suit, Oliver Dowdy insisted there was no cronyism in awarding contracts. Rishi said he took the issue incredibly seriously and denied Moan had told government of her involvement. Keir called it ‘a shocking disgrace from top to bottom’.

Babylon Healthcare, which The Cock gave £20m DOH money to for the ‘doctor in your pocket’ app, went bust. There were calls to investigate Leeds company Clipper Logistics £130m subcontracts to distribute PPE. A spokesperson insisted there was no connection to boss Mr Parkin personally donating dosh to the tories. Tom Moore charity trustee and daughter Hannah Ingram-Moore was paid ‘thousands’ to attend charity events. The money went to Maytrix Group (her and hubbies’ company). Instructed to demolish the Captain Tom Foundation Building in their garden, she was reduced to using public spas.

In other news, The Met belatedly issued 24 fines over the Jingle & Mingle do and paid compo to 2 women arrested at the Clapham Common vigil for breaking coronavirus laws. Patsy Stevenson and Dania Al-Obeid didn’t know they’d met there.

Plans for annual covid boosters were unveiled in August. Despite limited info, not yet a variant of concern and only 3 UK cases, Omicron version BA.2.86 aka Pirola, caused covid and flu jabs to be brought forward to 11^th September. Not being over 65, immunosuppressed or care workers, we didn’t qualify and couldn’t buy it even if we could afford to, as Mike Gammon seemed to think we should (at least not yet). The NHS whinged of short notice and begged government to plan better next year. As the number of cases rose to 36, most in a Norfolk care home (one hospitalised, all recovered), UKHSA believed there was some community transmission and urged the eligible to get jabbed. Telly doctor Chris re-emerged to tell BBC Breakfast Pirola had 30 mutations and might bypass immunity but be less hazardous to health. By November, subvariant JN.1had spread to 12 countries. Originating in Denmark, the name Pirola combined Greek letters Pi and Rho, and also happened to be Spanish Galician slang for male anatomy!

Covid and flu still rose in the UK at the end of 2023 but there was less than 2022. Meanwhile, China’s first winter without lockdown since 2020 brought low immunity, lots of flu and inundated hospitals. WHO demanded they release data. Covid vaccine mRNA developers Katalin Kariko and Drew Weissman shared the Nobel prize for medicine. Moderna planned dual vaccines by 2025, and treble ones the year after. Prompted by the emergence of long covid, further research uncovered long colds causing coughing, tummy ache and diarrhoea for up to 4 weeks. As we were ill most of December, I wondered if we had it.

The NHS’ 75^th anniversary was celebrated in July with a service at Westminster Abbey, a Tom Hardy bedtime story and suspension of the hardship fund and counselling service due to overwhelming demand. Mary Parsons who administered the first covid vaccine, wished people recognised it was ‘such a treasure’: “We don’t know what we’ve lost until we lose it.” First NHS baby Aneira Thomas agreed we took it for granted. Meanwhile, millions waited for treatment as Rishi’s promise to reduce the lists floundered, alongside his other daft priorities.

*Covid inquiry areas and modules- 4 underway:

Resilience and preparedness
Core UK decision-making and political governance
Impact on healthcare systems
Vaccines and therapeutics (including anti-virals)

Others to be announced included: The care sector, PPE procurement, Test and trace, Government business and financial response, Health inequalities and the impact of Covid-19, Education, children and young people, Other public services (including frontline delivery by key workers).

**Scumbag said of MacNamara “I don’t care how it’s done but that woman must be out of our hair – we cannot keep dealing with this horrific meltdown of the British state while dodging stilettos from that cunt.” Disappointed Boris didn’t pull Cummings up on his ‘violent and misogynistic language’, MacNamara responded: ‘It’s horrible to read, and both surprising and not surprising.‘

Corvus Bulletin 3: Bumper Anniversary Edition

“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

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

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 14^th 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 3^rd, 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 21^st,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

23^rd March marked the 3^rd 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!

*A very big computer

Reference:

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

The Corvus Papers 5: Winter Of Our Discontent

“(Terrible events in The Channel are) another reminder that debates about asylum seekers are not about statistics, but precious human lives” (Justin Welby)

Winter of Strife

1^st December, I dreamt of an idyllic summer walk which turned weird when a museum building with a vaulted wooden portico bizarrely appeared atop remote hills. Stretching to take a photo, Phil fell and lay injured on the ground. Trying to shake the image, I heard Phil going out for an early shift and dozed off. After an Ocado delivery, I made an ‘animal advent’ album to post daily pics on Facebook. Oblivious to Phil leaving on a darkly grey Friday, I went to the co-op for a heavy load before Walking Friend called as arranged. Not keen on chocolate and no point taking them to work as they got tons this time of year, she eschewed Milk Tray but accepted a book I’d just read. Over lunch in the Mill Café, we discussed her efforts to stop smoking, my experience of HRT, the uselessness of SSRI’s and her recent walks. “Noah Dale in this cold weather?” “It was really mild.” “Mild my arse!” Perusing the flea market, a passing man asked a stallholder if she stocked regimental badges and proudly proclaimed he was in the royal protection guard. “Are we meant to be impressed? I wouldn’t mention the palace right now if I were him!” Finding a cigar box guitar in the large charity shop, I enlightened my friend on its provenance and wondered how I’d hide it from Phil. She’d nipped in the butchers when he rang, asking were we in the pub? Meant to meet us in The Square, he’d gone home. I managed to conceal the guitar and joined Phil viewing dusky light on trees in the gloaming. Phil complained it was hard dressing on a cold Saturday. I took the precaution of laying out my clothes before bathing. We tramped leafy paths past the geese into the Methodist church to browse the art fair. Photography Friend updated us on her impending move and bemoaned the terrible government. “String ‘em up!” “They’ll call you Bloody Mary.” “It wouldn’t be the first time!” Wearing a snowman-printed dress, Old Drawing Teacher agreed the market for cards and calendars was saturated. In the sanctuary, Phil had a go at the organ. Initially tentative, his keyboard skills re-emerged. “Don’t show off; they’ll have you in here on Sunday!” We strolled on the canal, admiring reflected yellow leaves and retro clothes (the nice boots were irksomely too small), and into the centre. Unknown crafters in the town hall touted over-priced jewellery. A rainbow emerged among feint sun and spitting rain on the way to the Art Studio. Buying cards from The Printer, Phil joined in the Scarborough big wheel debate. Apparently moved from the pier to Foreshore , I stood corrected! We chatted to Counsellor Friend about her charity badge and to another ex-teacher who remarked to Phil it was his turn to play shop. “Yes, but we can’t eat your wares!”

Roofs glistened wetly on a grey Sunday. I braved cold drizzle and a keen easterly for knobbly veg. Town quiet and seating wet, people huddled in doorways. On the way home, I popped into an Open Studio at the bottom of our street. As the posh printer painstakingly wrapped expensive art for a Guardian family, I grabbed a free postcard and made for the door when she glanced up. I admitted I was a nosey neighbour. I found Dunlop wellies (annoyingly also the wrong size) and shoe brushes in the recycling bins. Phil observed nobody polished shoes anymore. Maybe, but as there nothing wrong with them and recyclers wouldn’t take them, why not give them to charity? He left for the late shift. I wrote a haiga for the first time since Julyⁱ and watched England beat Senegal in the World Cup. Flying home when his house was raided by armed robbers, Rahim Sterling missed the matched but got back in time for the quarter-final. Roasting veg for dinner, I invented a pumpkin-cutting hack but still got back ache. Plagued by heartburn and a whirring mind, I needed the meditation tape to get any sleep and felt awful on a chilly Monday. I forced myself up for warming porridge and re-read the HRT leaflet. Indigestion a possible side-effect, I suspended use until I’d spoken to a medic. Noon by the time I got round to it, I was miraculously first in the surgery queue but there were no appointments, not even phone slots so I was told to ring the chemist. On doing so, they were on an hour-long lunch. The second call dropped. When I eventually got through, the chemist reckoned I needed a different type of HRT for which I had to speak to a doctor. So I’d gone round in circles and would need to ring first thing! Phil empathised with my anxiety. He’d soon be doing likewise with is bothersome neck lump. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I never talk about that stuff.” “True.” To be honest, there’d been clues but on the other hand, when I asked how he was, he lied he was fine. He went to work. Fuggy in the head, I dismantled the freezer carton and manoeuvred it outside. The Widower came past dog-walking. I asked after his health and if he liked Milk Tray. “I’ve gone off chocolate.” “Oh.” “I know a couple of people who might.” Phew! Angry at chainsaws waking me at 7.30 Tuesday I remembered to ring the surgery, attributing tetchiness to hormone withdrawal. The sympathetic receptionist arranged a GP call-back. Attempting to contact BG, the chat bot repeatedly bombed, then I was on indeterminate hold and then another call came in, so I had to drop it (later going round in more circles to find a web complaint form). The GP asked if patches alleviated menopausal symptoms. I observed diminished hot flushes and itchiness, better sleep and, according to my partner, less moodiness, although I hadn’t noticed. Phil thought that was hilarious but it was true! The GP advised I stick to the patches and prescribed antacid. Both depressed, Phil whinged he couldn’t use his brain. “Don’t then.” “I can’t stop.” “Do meditation.” “Ohm!” “Do you want to go somewhere?” “Where?” We unexcitingly went to the co-op. Tills unstaffed, we waited at the kiosk where the woman in front dropped a visa card. With his new shop skills, Phil picked it up before I ran the trolley over it. Again not hearing Phil go to work in the frosty dark Wednesday, I worked on the journal and went out as the dazzling sun reached its zenith just above the treeline. Getting the script, it later twigged they were free as I was 60 and consulted the Age UK website to discover eye tests were too (nothing else till pension age, at least it was something). I browsed extensively for gifts. No £10 offers in the Fair Trade shop as advertised in Valley Life, many items weren’t even priced. I trudged home, took antacid, burped, then the heartburn eased off. Phil returned, fatigued but jolly. ‘No girls’, he’d larked with Male Co-worker. “I don’t know!” “Well, the ladies like to tell us what to do.” “They do sound a bit bossy.” Shivering, we lasted a remarkably long time before turning the boiler on and agreed advice to heat one room wouldn’t work with the humidity. An aptly-named Cold Moon rose at bedtime.

Record-high waits for and in ambulances could explain 700 excess deaths. 13,000 stuck in hospital with nowhere to go, 13% who used medical equipment at home, cut back to save money. On BBC Breakfast Saturday, covid commemoration commission leader Nicky Morgan, said the consultation closed Monday. Only just hearing of it and not topping a google search, it took some finding.

The Cock’s diary, serialised in the Daily Mail, blamed infected staff and bad managers for covid in care homes rather than his discharging policy. National Care Association’s Nada Ahmed called him deluded and his constituency party declared him unfit to represent them meaning he’d be gone by the general election. The Times revealed China got £3m a month to store unusable PPE. Michelle Mone was accused of bullying cabinet office staff into awarding contracts to PPE Medpro, for her own financial advantage. Director hubby Doug Barrowman put £29m in a secret offshore trust fund for Mone and sprogs. As she took leave of absence from the House of Lords, Rayner demanded contract documents be released: “What have you got to hide?” DHSC subsequently sued Medpro for the full £122 million. After Chris Matheson leaving triggered a by-election, Sam Dixon kept Chester for labour with a bigger majority. Swellen’s reappointment setting a ‘dangerous precedent’, PAC chair Will Wragg said a ‘robust’ system for upholding standards “with proper sanctions for those who break the rules” was needed. Kingy donated dosh via the Felix Project for food bank refrigeration. At a Buck House charity reception, doddery lady-in-waiting and Wills’ godmother Lady Susan Hussey, moved Sistah Space founder Ngozi Fulani’s hair to read her name-badge and interrogate her on her origins. Hussey later stepping down and apologising, the issue of racism in the royal household resurfaced. Wills and Kate In the US for the Earthshot prize, said racism had no place in society but as Megxit’s Netflix trailer dropped, they were booed at baseball. QT in Aberystwyth, MS Vaughan Gethin said it was like saying you’re not one of us, Welsh sec David TC Davies agreed it was wrong and Shavanna Taj of the Welsh TUC lauded the Welsh anti-racism plan. But GB News’ Olivia Utley advocated giving the old biddy some slack – cancel culture gone mad!

Inflation fell slightly to 10.7%. Had it peaked? Branded goods up 12-13% but budget ranges 18%, the differential was noticeable. Farmers unfairly burdened by labour shortages, fertiliser and energy costs, NFU’s Minette Batters warned of sleep-walking into a food supply crisis. Hinting at more seasonal work visas, Therese Coffee-Cup cryptically didn’t want the UK to rely on non-EU workers.

Rejecting the measly 2% pay offer, 86% of PCS members in 124 government departments voted to strike. 1,000 Border Farce staff at 6 airports and the Port of Newhaven would strike 23^rd-31^st December. The Home Office insisted they had ‘robust systems’ in place to minimise disruption i.e., Oliver Dowdy heading a ‘winter of discontent’ Staff skipping eating and heating having no choice, Mark Serwotka slammed plans to draft squaddies in. The RDG offered 8% over 2 years and no redundancies until 2024. Meeting none of their criteria, RMT rejected it and announced more strike days. Interspersed by a reduced service ‘til 9^th January, the National Rail website showed none on our line all week but a train appeared on Look North outside The Refreshment Rooms. Highways Agency and Heathrow action overlapping with rail, Swellen admitted to ‘undeniable disruption’. In co-ordinated action by Unison, GMB and Unite, ambulance workers were striking 21^st & 28^th December. Elsewhere, Unite members walked out from EMR for 2 days, and would again 23^rd-24^th Dec. Workers out every day up to Christmas, Pat Cullen agreed the strike was a tragedy but was appalled at Nads Zahawi’s ‘new low’ of saying nurses played into Vlad’s hands. Wes Streeting invited tories to steal his NHS workforce plan. Having rejected a pay offer last month, FBU marched on parliament and were balloted. Not strikes but felled power cables, caused major disruption to Avanti West Coast mainline. Rishi Rich not ruling out banning emergency worker strikes at PMQs, Keir quoted Mark Harper who said his ‘flagship legislation’ wouldn’t help current disputes, so he should stop grand-standing and sort it out. Cabinet neglected to discuss the winter of strife in favour of crime and the online safety bill. To appease backbenchers, ministers diluted house-building targets and relaxed onshore wind farm rules.

A man was arrested for chucking an egg at Kingy in Luton. As Just Stop Oil slow-marched down Old Kent Road, 2 activists were convicted of gluing themselves to The Haywain. Whitehaven coalmine approved to make coke for the steel industry, the mayor welcomed the investment and new jobs but Alook Sharma called it a backward step. Ofgem found water companies underspent on sewer upgrades and a day after the lifting of the Yorks hosepipe ban, gas mains flooded by water mains, left 2,000 properties in Stannington suburb without power. Declaring a state of emergency, Sheffield Council wanted to know why and what could be done to stop it happening again. On Politics North later in the month, Yorkshire Water CEO Nicola Shaw didn’t know what caused a fixture to move and make a hole in the water main laid in 1976 and insisted massive profits went to infrastructure not share dividends. Nobody explained how water got into the gas supply or lampposts. The UN asked nations to up emergency aid contribution by 25%, to a total £424bn. Greek MEP Eva Kaili was exposed for accepting bungs to promote the Qatari World Cup. The Trump organisation was found guilty of tax fraud and Musk’s Neuralink was accused of needlessly killing 1,500 animals in rushed tests. The arrest of 25 nutters foiled a German coup. Conspiracy-theorist Heinrich XIII recruited and trained members of Reichsbürger (Citizens of the Reich) and discussed a new world order with Russian officials. The Stranglers drummer Jet Black died. Well, at 84, he was the oldest punk rocker in town. Alternative Christmas ad The GoKart by Sam Teale from Cleckheaton, with the message ‘Christmas is made, not bought,’ got 7 million viewers globally. Andy Bunman organised a DJ battle for Manchester charity A Bed For The Night. Rayner chose 3 tracks, including Oldham’s very own N-Trance anthem. Angela Raver!

Dark Skies

An NHS letter stupidly advised we got covid boosters – as if we hadn’t tried! No local walk-ins, I booked a pharmacy down the trainline for Thursday, set the alarm to be there in time and rose to a sparkly thick frost. Hitherto failing to speak to a doctor, Phil followed my lead, ringing at 8 and saying it was urgent. 39^th in the queue, he hung on to secure a call-back. Amid a yellow ice warning, I checked trains, calculated timings, harassed Phil to get a move on, and gingerly descended to the main road. Waiting to buy tickets at the station, we found the train cancelled due to frozen points. So much for checking beforehand! I googled the pharmacy’s number to say we’d be late and Phil wandered off for a fag when the GP rang and said she’d refer him to hospital. We browsed displays in the cosy waiting room to warm up until the train arrived. Phil remarked on the 2 different models stuck together . “No-one will notice but you.” As the announcements had an echo, he intoned: “That’s what you get for mixing them up!” After a short ride and brief walk, we arrived at the pharmacy and hovered at the counter until a woman bade us to “Take a seat on the seats!” Two men joined us as we waited for The Vaccinator, behind schedule. In the tiny cubby hole, he jotted down details and, promising similar side-effects to Moderna, prepped a Pfizer vial. “Not the fancy new bivalent?” “It is bivalent.” “Good!” After a quick, sharp needle pain, Phil was next. His rucksack a tripping hazard, a pile of coins strew the floor as I picked it up. Waiting Man 1 offered to help. I said I was fine, then went dizzy. Buying some essentials at £1 each, I commented it was like Poundland but better, cos not everything in there was a pound! Returning to the station, we took photos of hoary shrubs and entered the Refreshment Rooms. Attractively adorned with posters, artefacts and curious, a friendly server offered a sadly limited menu. We plumped for coffee which was very good and rolls which weren’t. Made of cold bread and raw-looking meat, they’d been pinged not fried. Lunch inadequate, we pondered going into the town but as a train came, we jumped on. “This might be a mistake; staying out could save on heating.” “Do you want to go back in the waiting room?” “Don’t be daft!” Unhurriedly ambling home, park grass mimicked rimed seaweed. Frost covered felled foliage. A random orange was stuck in the lock. Higher ground strangely stayed green and leafy. Both suffering mild side-effects (nostril niggles and sore arms), we edited photos. Phil’s AI composed cute snowy pics. “You’ve given up serious art then!”

Still sore, I exercised carefully Friday, gave up on an unusable ipad (repeatedly indicating a dead battery even on charge and after Phil tampered), applied a patch, and belched. We spent the morning expunging bathroom mould. As the sun dipped below the treeline before noon, the kitchen (aka South Pole), was nithering. Phil went to work, I went to antiques shops, for a nice chat about Hull and gifts. Slightly above budget, I was pleased with my finds. Trudging to the main road in the near-dark, queuing bus passengers laughed at a man randomly shouting. Nobody knew what he was on about! Saturday, weak sun peaked beneath an ominous cloud bank. A dusting of snow turned the world white. Disgruntled crows perched on poles. Feeling Christmassy, I hummed the seasonal tune. The tea was cold when a tired Phil emerged. As I’d forgot the warming cloth, I pinged him a cup. “Thank you.” “The things you do for love!” Seeing a Northern Fail video of Chester on Insta, Phil was keen to visit the magical Christmas-land. Confirming strikes meant no trains running on our line Tues-Sat the following week, Phil laughed: “Get back to work!” Too bitter to go walking, I went hunting. Warmer outside than in, snow-melt drizzle created damp air. The words ‘free’ and ‘cake’ on the hoarding outside a maker’s fair were sadly unconnected. Thinking a matching bracelet would be nice, the jeweller responsible for my birthday gifts, offered to make one for me. Rather flimsy and barely wearing the jewels I had, I consulted with Phil but wasn’t fussed. The man road heaving, I muttered impatiently behind a dawdling man. He glanced back and stepped aside: “Sorry, am I in your way?” Oops! At the Baptist Chapel Christmas fair, I rummaged through a DVD pile, admired an adorable knitted nativity and discussed crochet with a volunteer. A neighbour I knew from drawing class appeared in a pinny. I suppressed surprise that she belonged to the ‘have you got a bag, dear?’ mob, to exchange pleasantries. She made kind reference to my Valley Life articles. Icy rain reverting to snow, I headed home and saw The Student, back for the hols. Her gran visiting, she kept her distance to briefly debate the crap state of affairs and her dissertation on German gay men. “I won’t make a joke, it won’t be woke!” Phi had unearthed an unused wallet (which I bought him years ago) and took stuff out of his old battered one. Loyalty cards dated 2017, it needed a clear-out! We timed dinner round footie. After Harry Kane missed a second penalty, France beat England 2-1. Well, if he’d scored, it would only have prolonged the agony.

Sunday, a weak sun rendered the scrappy snow pretty. Quentin Blake’s Clown inspired me to modify his angel for the Christmas tree. Saved on computer for yonks, I printed one to embellish. On a cloudy night, snow reflected artificial light. With the brightness, thudding heart and whirring mind, I struggled to sleep without the meditation tape. Monday, I needed a beanie hat and 2 pairs of socks to go to the South Pole – a balmy 2 degrees! Phil swore at a letter advising he do nothing unless he’d not heard by 2^nd Feb. “It’s just confirmation of the referral.” “I’m worried.” “I know but try not to.” I gave him a big hug and distracted him with seagulls unusually wheeling over roofs rather than water. Taking rubbish out, I heard a strange noise when I went back in. Failing to close the lid, the kettle hadn’t turned off. It was my turn to cuss. We definitely had condensation now! He cleaned it up and fed me Milk Tray. They’d gone posher since my day – salted caramel no less! Well wrapped up and wary of black ice (not too bad on the street below but as a neighbour agreed, lethal on the small steps), I went to the co-op. Seeing Historian Neighbour, I asked how she was coping with the cold. “I’ve never known cold like it.” “Do you like Milk Tray?” “I prefer dark.” The Store Manager rang to say the heating had totally packed in and to ‘wear anything’. Phil dressed as Michelin Man. “How about a ballerina or a fairy princess?” “That’s what they’d expect from me.” “Cripes! They must be very un-PC if you’re ‘woke’ by their standards!” Throwing seeds to the birds from the doorstep, I almost hit Neighbour-From-The-Street-Below. “Soz. I can’t be arsed putting clobber on just to do this.” Phil guffawed at my cracked hands. “Call that cracked!” “Poor you. Have you still got hand cream?” “Yes, I’m using tons.” I reverted to the extra-strong stuff for some improvement. Tuesday, I limited noise while Phil slept in before a day of rest. Hearing a rap on the door, I hurried down to find a jolly man with a parcel for Phil. The box shape a giveaway (hint: no need to scour shops for ankle boots), he’d expected it to come in the usual nondescript packaging. I pretended I didn’t see it. After an unprecedented unbroken 8 hours, I started Wednesday dozy. Almost in tears with tummy pain, I declined to divulge details. Phil helped bring firtrees in and find elusive beans in the co-op with his news skills. I used member’s points for a cheap shop. Anticipating another 8 hours, I settled down earlier but had a crap night. Trying various distraction techniques, images of snowy roads were only fleetingly calming.

7.2 million waiting for operations, Phil said; “No wonder there’s a labour shortage. “It’s one reasons.” Research found Capivasertib could shrink breast tumours by blocking the cancer-driving molecule AKT, while Moderna and Merck’s cancer vaccine using mRNA tech, could mean 44% less fatalities. 15 kids dead from Strep A, home testing kits sold out and government gainsaid chemists’ claims of antibiotic shortages. 40 confirmed diphtheria cases, Hussein Haseeb Ahmed’s family discovered he died via social media.

Most QT panellists agreeing we were in Broken Britain, Guy Opperman disingenuously claimed tories supported public workers but money was tight. Isobel Oakeshot (who co-wrote The Cock’s Covid Diaries) railed at shocking public services at a time of historically high taxes. Nurses leaving or converting to costlier agency staff, Lucy Powell said not paying more was a false economy. She also observed the Whitehaven coalmine contained the wrong sort of coal and the steel industry could switch to electric arc furnaces. Isobel thought it un-green to import Russian coal and mad to import US shale. 40 backbenchers wrote Rishi he should cut taxes, scrap wasteful inclusion projects and spend more on front-line services. Owing HMRC £1m and the bank £700k, Tory MP Adam Afriyie went bankrupt but wouldn’t quit until a general election. 5 new allegations against Rabid Raab from when he was justice sec, made a total of 8. ONS stats showed the economy shrank 0.3% across all sectors. The C**t denied Brexit or the tories were to blame. IFS disagreed and Reeves said ‘managed decline’ was a choice. Almost going bust during the pandemic, Monsoon sales rose 42% and they announced 22 new shops. Less vacancies in the private sector, wage growth was 6.9% and 2.7% in the public sector. The gap at a new high but both still way below inflation, the TUC reckoned real-terms pay was cut by 3%. IT geek Jason Baldry put a map on warmspaces.org. ukⁱⁱ.

A decade-high 417,000 working days were lost to strikes. Royal Mail workers out again, Christmas posting dates were brought forward a week and Environment Agency staff began working to rule. Mick Lynch accused ministers of sabotaging a deal over driver-operated trains. Teacher’s pay ‘held down for a decade’, the TUC’s Kate Bell said walkouts were likely. Ed sec Gill Keegan helpfully retorted they’d resist all pay demands. Cobra meeting regularly, On Laura K., Uncleverly insisted it wasn’t for the government to negotiate, thus health strikes would proceed. He wasn’t quizzed on a lack of qualified army drivers to staff ambulances, nor on ex chief Lord Dannatt saying squaddies might think: “I joined up to be a soldier, not a strike-breaker.”

The Trondheim Troll brought an arctic blast, wintry showers and sub-zero temperatures. Amid low winds and high energy demand, households could be asked to limit usage Fridays and Saturdays. 4 kids died after falling through ice on Babbs Mill Lake, Solihull, London launched an emergency protocol for rough sleepers, freezing river foam created ice pancakes in Linn Park, Glasgow and on The Tyne at Hexham and traffic got stuck in snow on the M25 and in a herd of cows on the M62. Who needed Just stop Oil! Policing their protests cost 37.5m Oct-Dec.

Only 96 arrests for illegal entry to the UK under the Nationality and Borders Act since June, Rishi revealed a 5-point plan to clear the asylum claim backlog: a new 700-staff unit to monitor small boat crossings; stop using hotels and house asylum seekers in disused holiday parks, military sites and student halls; double the number of asylum caseworkers to assess claims; Border Farce staff at Tirana airport; redefine modern slavery to ‘make it unambiguously clear that if you enter the UK illegally, you should not be able to remain here.’ Keir dismissed his plans as ‘unworkable gimmicks’ and refugee charities as ‘cruel’ and ‘ineffective’. A dinghy capsized off the coast of Dungeness at 3.00 a.m., triggering a major incident. In a joint UK-French rescue, 43 migrants were saved but at least 4 perished in freezing water. 19 year old Ibrahima Bar was later arrested for people-trafficking. Swellen told MPs this type of tragedy was why they worked so hard to destroy the people-trafficking business model. Justin Welby tweeted that asylum seeker debates were about human lives. Tim Naor Hilton of Refugee Action, said the tragedy was predictable and inevitable, and more would die trying to reach safety if the government didn’t create more safe routes. Quite!

At the last PMQs of 2022, after offering disingenuous condolences to those who drowned in the channel and saying cancelling Avanti’s contract was subject to review, Rishi was asked why he wouldn’t intervene to avert nurse strikes. He told Keir they got a pay rise when others didn’t, plus bursaries. Keir called playing games with people’s health a badge of shame and recommended he scrap non-doms to fund the NHS. Insisting he already invested billions to clear the backlog through new diagnostic centres and surgical hubs, Rishi accused Keir of ignoring the impact of covid. SNP Westminster leader Stephen Flynn, not as funny as Ian Blackford, asked when he’d see the error of his ways and take the Scottish government lead to negotiate a settlement. Unable to turn heating on, people were scared stiff. Rishi used this as a cue to bang on about supporting household energy bills, upcoming extra cost of living payments and caring for the most vulnerable.

After a sharp drop in the value of Tesla shares, Musk was overtaken by Bernard Arnault of luxury brand LVMH as the richest man in the world. Twitter dissolved the trust and safety council – so no moderation of hate speech! As France beat Morocco in the World Cup semi-final, there was rioting in Montpelier and a boy died after being ‘violently hit’ by a car. the last Dambuster 101 year-old Johnson, died.

Do Not Travel

Thursday 15^th, hilltops glowed in sunshine and the bathroom window frozen shut. Reaching up to try opening it, a bath tap knob flew off and fell behind a storage cube. No sign of it, I retrieved errant cotton buds when a container toppled off, spilling toiletries on the floor. Angry and upset, I cleared them up but gave up purging ice, donned the bear coat and went to the market. Quiet in the cold, I got a 9-pack loo roll for first time in months and rare Cornish sardines. Even the liver healthy and tasty, Phil declared it a treat. “They’re cheap so they shouldn’t be a treat. Maybe it’s a benefit of Brexit at last, not sending them to Spain.” In The Store, I offered to help Phil direct a doddery old man but he said it wasn’t my job and buzzed Male Co-worker as I eschewed extortionate squirty cream and selected a couple of items for Phil to buy with his staff discount. In the Rival Store, I chose sweet gifts, but quadruple the expected price, dumped them at the counter and went to the Sweet Shop instead. Later complaining about my awful morning, and ice on the inside of windows even with the heating on as much as we dared, Phil was also worried by scary energy costs. Shifts updated, he’d work early NY Day. Actually more inconvenient than working Christmas Day, at least he’d be home by 1. Depressed and lacking energy, I abandoned the journal and stuck extra sparkles to the Quentin Blake angel.

Phil managed to both slam the front door and leave it unlocked Friday. Subsequently roused by interminable chainsaws, I rose grumpily and hoping the sun just peeping out in a blue sky would do the job for me, ignored icy windows after the previous debacle. Making Christmas cake and working on the laptop slow, I decided to conclude sweet gift shopping at the co-op. An impatient woman behind me at the till impeded my bag-packing. Tutting, I used an empty conveyor, plodded home and found a card from End Neighbour on the doormat. I went to say thanks and, as we weren’t sending cards this year, ask if she’d like Milk Tray. “How sweet of you! They’re very welcome actually.” “Good! I can’t believe how hard they are to get rid of. Who doesn’t want free chocs in these hard times?” Her card earlier than normal, I’d assumed she was going away but she’d been at home ill. Asking after Phil, she also thought The Store being shut Christmas Day odd. When he got home, he asked if a parcel had come. Due by 6.30, he moaned he’d have to delay resting and suggested we took turns. “Okay, but should I be seeing it?” “I’ll stay up then.” About to say something else, his phone emitted a loud burst of sound. I stomped up to bed but unable to warm my feet despite 4 pairs of socks, gave up so he could have his siesta. “I’m waiting for the delivery.” “I’m here now.” “I thought you said no.” “Well, you did order the thing but you’re tired from work so go on.” There was a door knock two minutes later – another ‘surprise’ ruined by the package’s shape! Saturday slightly above zero, clouds indicated impending snow. I unearthed a long-forgotten warm merino wool mix top before decorating the tree, accompanied by seasonal music. Phil got home with a sprout stick, took it to the kitchen then I heard clattering and foul language: “Bloody Robert The Chair!” He meant folding ones stashed at the bottom of the stairs. The kettle failed to come on. As Phil began tinkering, I snappily told him to eat and used the old stove-top one to make coffee. Later getting it to work by holding the switch down, I blamed myself for leaving the lid up and he blamed the cold. Loud honking penetrated early darkness. Was it the coca cola truck? Close: Santa’s truck. Apparently an annual tradition distributing gifts between here and Halifax, we’d never seen nor heard it before and could only think of one local garage with vehicles that big. After films and the last ever episode of Lucifer, we laughed at John Rutter talking crap on BBC 4. His Christmas music might be good but he was a knob!

Putting more decorations up Sunday, I rescued a green sprig from a dead plant. The snow already melted, nasty stuff fell from the dark sky as I dumped waste. Phil went to work and I watched the World Cup final. Argentina stunning in the first half, France made a comeback in the second. Still drawn after thrilling ET, Argentina won on penalties. Thinking it possibly the best cup final I’d ever seen, the commentator said it was the best one ever! But given the homophobia and dead construction workers, I didn’t agree with FIFA boss Gianni Infantino who declared the World Cup ‘a success on all fronts’. The Argentine squad returned to 4 million fans thronging Buenos Aires. Abandoning their open-top bus for a helicopter, riot police were deployed and 2 died. As Phil enjoyed the highlights, I stayed up to keep him company and re-watch the goals, got to bed rather late, dozed off to soothing pouring rain and overslept the next day. Wiping at dripping water on downstairs windows, I realised it was on the outside – reverse condensation! Phil had gone to the loo at 4.00 a.m. and couldn’t see out because of snowmelt fog. I posted a haigaⁱ and he shopped. Having forgotten his key, he knocked on the door, hid his purchases and sat down when there was a feeble rap. Yet another delivery! For dinner, I fried smelly camembert and ham to put on muffins, naming them Chamburgers. Phil clumping about early Tuesday, I gave up sleeping. A crescent moon shone in an indigo pre-dawn sky. Windy doing exercise, I took antacid and needed a break. After tedious chores, I installed the antique Hull tree, moved the kitchen table to retrieve cookie-cutters form the back cupboard, forgot to put other things away and annoyingly had to do it again before searching for last-minute buys. The main road shops expensive, I returned hungry to have lunch, adorn Christmas cards (getting glitter everywhere) and wrap gifts, ordering Phil to not come in the bedroom when he returned. Waking early with heartburn Wednesday, I struggled to sleep more, tried not to fret, sent messages to family and friends, upcycled glass pudding pots into candle holders, and got Phil to help make pies and fake Spekulatius. The butter hard and a binding ingredient missing from the recipe, the cookies took ages. Tasting bland, spiciness improved with age. Phil looked for the wrapping paper. “Wrapping my pressies? It’s not even Christmas Eve!”

Despite cold, smoky greyness Thursday 22^nd, I opened the window and searched for clean bedding. Supposedly helping, Phil had put it in the wash. As I complained of making things harder, he countered I over-reacted. On the plus side, he reduced the Talk-Talk internet sub by around £30 a month. As he went out, I heard him say ‘hello’, then a rustle. Had he come back in? Was it a burglar or a cat? No; the window cleaners. From the threshold, I apologised again for the summer mix-up, confirmed they got our hand-delivered payment and offered Christmas greetings. Bare shelves notwithstanding, Phil secured what we needed and another pressie – so much for early wrapping! Expected for coffee and mince pies, Walking Friend texted she was going back to bed with flu. I took her a goody bag of pies, cookies, card and DVD. Presuming my knock wouldn’t be answered, she popped her head out of the window above. “If you can’t come to the mince pies, the mince pies must come to you!” Warily descending slippery steps, I hung back for a young woman coming through the snicket engrossed on her phone, getting a half-hearted sorry and thanks. Tired and achy, I had a terrible night. Unable to settle and relaxation games useless, I looked out at a peculiarly cloudy, starless but bright night sky. Friday, nasty fine rain and wind gusts punctuated the dark which didn’t lift all day. Already feeling crap from lack of sleep, I was vexed by a dripping tap in the kitchen, put the hot water back on for baths, whinged at Phil that it cost money, then conceded the tap was easy to accidently knock on. Emerging squeaky clean from a long, fluffy soak, he declared it ‘luxury’, listed his tasks then sat on the couch making pictures. As I expressed concern at quite a bit to do, he promised to help Christmas Eve. Needing bread, I went to the busy co-op. My Namesake at the till asked had I done now? “I hope so.” “Will you be here again tomorrow?” “I hope not!” “I will; I’ve got 2 days off. Happy Christmas.” “And you. Enjoy your weekend off! I cut ivy from the garden wall for the hearth. Utterly filthy, it required copious rinsing. I baked my signature veggie sausage rolls and topped the cake. Melted choc already setting as I stuck almonds and ginger on, I melted more for a pleasing drizzle effect then collapsed on the sofa with a glass of wine.

Ex-PM Boris earned over £1m for bumbling speeches. The government unveiling a 10-point campaign for us to reduce energy bills, BBC news visited Shatts’ posh house. Come up with something that saved a grand a year, I might take note! BOE raised interest to 3.5%. Majestic booze sales up 140%, Serco profit’s outlook rose by £5m. Curry’s at a loss, TUI revenues quadrupled in the year to 30^th September (after 2020-2 losses).

Treasury coffers were boosted by £85.1bn more tax including £8.3bn property tax in the past year. BCC said ‘structural problems’ with the UK-EU trade deal was damaging. Someone finally admitting Brexit was shit, on QT, Rees-Moggy still insisted it was great. On Newscast, Robert Peston revealed Truss was in floods of tears before her ill-fated 8 minute press conference. I had no clue what their ‘I ooze stamina’ T-shirts meant.

Hoping we’d blame unions not government for disruption, and resolute it was irresponsible to up public sector pay, Dowdy advised health workers to cancel strikes but Caroline Nokes advised negotiation. A mother informed Steve Barclay he was wrong blaming NHS issues on the pandemic. Accepting some of what she said, he invited union reps to meet, not to negotiate pay but to discuss emergency cover. Rishi unbelievably went to a food charity to express disappointment that nurses planned further action. During the first 999 responders strike, health chiefs couldn’t ensure patient safety and ministers warned against risky activities. Less demand suggested they were heeded. A squaddie drafted in to drive ambulances felt ‘honoured’ to be called on. What! Honoured to be a scab? A patient complained one responded to his emergency, but couldn’t drive to hospital. Sat up talking on zoom, he obviously didn’t need blue-lighting. The second strike day cancelled so people could enjoy a stress-free Christmas, they’d resume in January, a day after the anti-strike bill was set out. Pointlessly mandating minimum cover; with staff shortages, they couldn’t provide effective service any day! RCN Scotland rejected a 7.5% pay offer and would strike in the new year. Stopped trains were joined by London buses. Roads busy, scientists found dangerous particles from braking trains could lead to dementia and other health problems. Despite terrible service, Avanti incredibly got a £6.5m performance bonus. Government said it dated back to July-Sept 2021, before timetable changes. As Avanti blamed crew shortages for less trains, a software failure led to 100 TPE cancellations. Another 2-day postal strike meant no more Christmas cards. Heathrow and Eurostar strikes off, incoming travellers reported no issues during the Border Farce airport one. Mark Serwotka said troops got 5 hours training to only check passports, not look for signs of dodginess as proper staff would. Enough in the strike fund until March and a mandate for action until May, he predicted months of disruption. 130 bus companies signed up to a scheme for maximum £2 fares Jan-March 2023.

When asked, 57.7% of Musk’s followers said he should step down as head of twitter. He promised to do so, when he found someone ‘foolish enough’ to take over. Future polls would only be open to blue tick account-holders. The High court ruled the Rwanda policy lawful, but their circumstances not considered, 8 individual’s cases must be reviewed. Refugee charities later appealed. Determined flights would go ahead asap, Swellen couldn’t find any airlines to participate. Trying to get into a full Brixton Academy, fans forced open the doors and the Asake gig stopped. A fan and a security guard subsequently died, a man arrested and the Academy’s licence revoked ‘til April 2023. A gun attack at a Kurdish cultural centre injured 3 and killed 3. The culprit had just been released after attacking migrants in camps with a sword. Rioting ensued. Terry Hall of The Specials and Fun Boy 3, died aged 63. New King Charles banknotes would be in circulation by mid-2024. Patrick Thelwell who threw an egg at Kingy in York was charged with threatening behaviour. As the massive ‘AquaDom’ in the swanky Berlin Radisson Blu exploded, 1 million gallons of water gushed from the aquarium. No people hurt, 1,500 fish perished and pigeons enjoyed a boon. The cause was likely material fatigue, not the voice of Young Chorister of the Year Naomi Simon from York, who could smash glass hundreds of miles away! Chicken Mick Santa handing out sweets and teddies and collecting for New Hope Worcester Children’s Charity, refused to pay a parking fine for his sleigh aka motorbike. A slew of Christmas singles, Northallerton Allotmenteers formed of men growing veg during lockdown for a local hospice, released Sprouts (let it all out), the Half-Timer’s effort raised money for FareshareUK. and Lad Baby reached number 1 for the fifth time. Feed The UK featuring money expert Martin Lewis who could actually sing, was a damning indictment of the government!

I’m Dreaming Of A Grey Christmas

Characteristic Saturnalia light appeared on Christmas Eve. Mainly doing haircuts and food prep, I got ratty as incessant honking trucks interrupted a peaceful day; they could at least play seasonal tunes! For that, we headed to Carols in The Square. Back after 3 years of covid restrictions, it was rammed. Pressed against a shop wall, an ex-pubgoer turned canal-drinker, joyfully beamed and sang beside us. A Friend-couple asserted they owed us a meal. Drawing Teacher remarked on the lovely tradition. Crooning over, we perused hostelries and settled on a revamped Trad Pub. A wicker figure sat next to a woman in the corner of a nigh-empty room. “Is he with you?” I joked. Then a crowd piled in. “Is anyone using that chair?” I felt like Billy No-Mates until Phil brought fancy gins from the bar. Yuletide ditties endless, I sympathised with hospitality and retail workers. “Tell me about it!” laughed Phil. Hungry, we nosed in the recently opened Ex-Bank bar on the way home for a buffet-style dinner, wine and more gin. Phil remarked: “Don’t say I never treat you.” “It was indeed a treat. The whole day was nice, except the honking!

Christmas Day not white but grey, roofs shone festively. Among a generous 20 gifts, Phil got me the new Muse album on vinyl, a Victorian silver coin, a gorgeous Folktale book (although rather scholarly, story notes were often longer than the tales) and splendid black ankle boots. I gave him the sparkly card and not quite as many gifts. He was chuffed with Britannia III, the cigar-box guitar and the vintage camera even though the case screw had the wrong thread. Messages from Walking Friend thanking me for the goody bag and from Musician Friend were welcome but a plethora of intrusive family ones weren’t. Why would I want to see their dinner selfies instead of enjoying our own? I turned alerts off.

The windows streaming with sleety rain Boxing Day, there was enough in the demisting sponge to water plants. Although I’d suggested Phil not wash up, I didn’t mean leave cream to solidify on trifle bowls and Irish coffee glasses. As I grumbled, he admitted to being a tad drunk. I posted a haiga and began Film Reviews 2022ⁱⁱⁱ. Not looking forward to work, at least Phil had no deliveries to deal with. Irked he’d swapped next day’s shifts he said we could go walking beforehand. I abstained from an evening tipple so I’d be up in time – a needless precaution, as it turned out. Getting freezing hands and damp pants taking rubbish out Tuesday, despite his enthusiasm, I refused an outing in the drizzle and listened to Muse’s Willy of the People – we’re all effing fucked! Phil again dithered over late drinks but feeling tired, I didn’t want one and he didn’t bother. Gassiness causing lumpiness and pointless contacting doctors until after the hols, I ditched the HRT patches. Regardless of discomfort and worry, I slept well to start Wednesday in a stupor. I belched and thought Phil was taking the mick when he did too, but he wasn’t. As promised, he helped with housework and errands, using his co-op points for cheap groceries.

Planning a trip to The City Thursday, we got over early narkiness to go to the station. Train delays confusing, an old man in front of me at the booking office hesitated then went for a bus. The clerk fiddled with his display and advised as the trains were messed up, we shouldn’t believe the boards. “I don’t care as long as one comes” Soon after, a fast service whizzed us to The City. Descending steps out, a small white thing bounced in front of us. Was it a tooth? No, an earbud. The owner disgustingly picked it up and stuck it back in his ear! Assailed by the typical biting wind, we crossed to the tiny park where a couple pointed out Phil’s shoes were undone then cadged a fag. “Nowt’s changed then!” Aiming for the Van Gogh experience in the museum, the gallery was inexplicably closed. We wandered round, avoiding noisy kids’ zones, and found a few new exhibits among the telly toys and cartoon models. Having lunch in a trendy Asian eatery, Phil ordered extras and left me his card to pay while he freshened up. I jested with the waitress: “Should I abscond?” Walking past sad dilapidation, the clock tower rang out ‘in excelsis deo’. Phil remarked it was cleverly programmable, unlike Big Ben. Climbing to the top end of the concrete shopping centre, Phil bet 10p the market would make me laugh within seconds. I was instantly in stitches at the sight of a fake Roman frieze. While I selected Primark basics, he got woollies and insisted on paying for everything. I nipped in a discount store to find toiletries and very slow staff, and he nipped in another to not find phone leads. Out the nearest exit, we immediately spotted phone shops. Asking a tenner each for the leads, I spluttered and walked out. “How much do you want to pay?” I forgot shopping here was like Turkey. Raining by then, we caught a speedy train back and dashed through the park. Having a stitch from moving too fast after a big lunch, I struggled to fetch the coffee as Phil absconded upstairs. “Not hungry?” he asked “Nope. Eat fruit if you are.”

Woken by a strange noise Friday, I couldn’t discern if it was external or in my head. Realising Phil would have gone, I forced myself up. After the strikes, we got mail for 2 days running including Christmas cards. Ickle Brother posted his 12^th December. I texted: ‘Good news! Happy Christmas!’ He replied it was like the 1970’s but with better hair! Messaging Walking Friend to see if she was better, it transpired she’d had a medical emergency the other day but got help form a passer-by and the chemist who got hold of a doctor. In need of nicotine patches, I offered to get them but as she said she needed to get out, I bade she take care. I struck lucky in charity shops and went to The Store. Phil was at the counter and handed me eggs he’d bought from the butchers first thing. A man from HO came to say as weekend early opening and late closing was a waste of time, hours would be cut. Doing miles more than his contract anyway, Phil didn’t mind and he’d start later New Year’s Day so could stay up to toast 2023. Evening news featured old Scottish volunteers building the WW1 plane Sopwith Strutter. “I bet that took some time,” observed Phil. “Yep, some of them died in the process!” More recent demises involved John Bird, Pele, Vivienne Westwood, and Joseph Ratzinger (aka Benedict XVI), Pope Francis would preside over the funeral, the first time in 2,000 years that had happened. Staying in on a mangy NYE, we enjoyed a posh dinner and weak fizz. A firework boom alerting us to midnight, we clinked glasses and switched from films to the London display. The usual dodgy soundtrack was followed by the relentless Sam Ryder and raucous pissheads disturbing sleep. Shut up! Meanwhile, Thor the Walrus travelled north from Norfolk to Scarborough where fireworks were cancelled.

Flu admissions outstripping covid for the first time since the pandemic, the ‘twindemic’ put 12,000 in hospital. 267 in critical care, capacity reached 95%. After the demos, China relaxed zero-covid rules but increased police checks. Experts feared no immunity could mean 60 million infected and 2 million fatalities within months. Authorities changed official death by covid to respiratory issues only. Travel restrictions lifted and info obscured, the UK joined Italy and USA to impose extra checks on incoming Chinese– they’d require a negative test from 5^th January. The Chinese called it foreign spin.

2022 officially the hottest ever, there were 10% excess deaths – was it covid, deficient access to health services during lockdowns or interminable waits for ambulances and treatment? Citing the NHS crisis, reporters didn’t mentioned lack of GP availability, but on the plus side, there were more cancer referrals. 6.9% up on 2021, record home entertainment sales reached £11.1bn. Harry Styles topped music and Top Gun Maverick topped videos. A bumper year for M&S festive food sales, World Cup fans swilling beer and munching pizza grew the UK economy 0.1% in November. Musk’s $2bn losses outstripped other rich twats, and illicit crypto cost $20.1bn.

References:

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

ii. Warm spaces map: https://warmspaces.org/#map

ii. Film Reviews 2022: Notes on life, the universe and stuff that sucks (maryc1000.blogspot.com)

Part 105 – Jubilation?

“The PM has repeatedly shown he is unable to uphold (British) values and the reaction of the public at St Paul’s showed they know it too” (Lucy Powell)

Imperial Nonsense

The wee hours of 1^st June, I dreamt of sitting in an ambulance wearing a face-mask. Odd having a covid dream after so long, was it a premonition of another wave? OneDrive did 500,000 ‘processes’. No idea what the heck they were, Phil managed to stop them so I could use the laptop. Bank statements revealed my benefit increased mid-April by a mega £3.50 a week – not even enough for a pint! Putting stuff in cupboards, a small pot fell out to land in the cafetiere. Another one bites the dust! Thank god for the spare.

In his annual report, Lord Geidt said whether Boris’ fine broke the ministerial code, was a ‘legitimate question’. The Bumbler replied he took full responsibility, had apologised to The House, there was no intent to break rules, paying a FPN wasn’t a criminal offence and quitting over ‘miserable’ Partygate was irresponsible amid ‘huge pressure’ on the economy, war and a ‘massive agenda’ he was elected to deliver. Did he mean Brexit? Rabid Raab insisted a confidence vote wasn’t imminent. Lisa Nandy called it ‘a damning indictment’ of the PMs leadership: “that successive ethics advisers…feel they can’t trust (his) integrity…This is a government that is rotten to the core, that the rot (sic) starts from the top.” Airport chaos worse during half-term, Tui cancelled 200 Manchester flights. Sharon Graham said aviation bosses slashing wages and sacking staff during the pandemic, got rich on high profits and low pay. Reaping what they’d sown, they should hang their heads in shame. Quite! Why book people on holidays they couldn’t get to? In defence, Airlines UK said they didn’t know exactly when all restrictions would be lifted nor how much travel would be possible by summer. Raab demanded airlines, airports and ground handlers met him to discuss over-booking and ill-preparedness. Dreadful Doris announced Bradford as UK City of Culture 2025. Maybe they’d clean up the Odeon and fill in the big hole for the festival of dire youff poetry.

Sun tempted me to don the new dress and open windows Thursday. News stopped for Platty Joobs, we joked the so-called pageant would be the largest handmade parade in history, remembered jubblys (still available) and invented retro 1950’s dishes such as jubilee potato – just potato. YouGov found only 9% of young people thought the royals relevant. Nevertheless, we broke the rule of no lunchtime telly for the flypast. Definitely the highlight of the day’s celebrations with all the planes and helicopters, Queenie with selected family on Buck House’s balcony, seemed impressed by the forming of a ‘70’ in the sky. Enough nonsense, I hung washing out. The Woman Next Door assured me it wouldn’t rain but the day didn’t live up to the billing of wall-to-wall sunshine. Increasingly convinced the forecast was a conspiracy, maybe I shouldn’t have told her that! The only sign of royalism in the co-op a woman wearing a cheap t-shirt emblazoned with ‘happy jubilee’, Phil found an infestation of red gammons in town. They didn’t need sun, just beer! Making a courgette and lemon cake was easy except I grated my thumb knuckle. Icing it the next day, I wished I’d remembered the unopened Sicilian lemon essence earlier.

Oldies at a Jeremy Vine jubilee party Friday, I guffawed at an engrossed Phil but agreed their reminiscences were sociologically interesting. Putting the telly back on for St Paul’s chimes, we mistimed it to see Boris speaking. He and Carrie got booed going to the thanksgiving service. Too much after the excitement of the flypast, Queenie missed it. Justin Welby and Randy Andy missed it as they had covid – ha! ha! We left the bells ringing for 4 hours to visit a favoured clough. Coming back, we found a roll of old maps at a street corner and the town centre chocka; like any weekend except for the odd bit of bunting and flags in shop windows creating a patriotic enclave near the micro pub (see Cool Placesⁱ).

A consultation began on restoring the crown to pint glasses and pounds and ounces in shops. Chris Philp ((aka American Psycho Patrick Bateman) said imperial measures were universally understood and would bring ‘a bit of our national culture and heritage back on the top shelf’. Alicia Kearns called it a load of imperial nonsense, Asda boss Lord Rose called it ‘utter nonsense’, National Market Traders Fed said it’d just create hassle and historian Mary Beard termed the debate a ‘nostalgia war’. Harry Styles at number 1, the Sex Pistols didn’t get in the top 10. We didn’t bother digging out those Stuff The Jubilee badges! 100 days since the invasion, Russia controlled 1/5 of Ukraine. Uncle Joe pledged more weapons and urged a change in US gun laws after mass shootings in May killed Texan primary schoolkids.

Saturday, we investigated the route of Younger Brothers’ sponsored Leeds-Liverpool canal bike ride next weekend. Doubting we’d be up on time to cheer him, Phil was keen to visit the wonder of the ‘straight mile’ sometime. The smattering of stalls and displays at the art launch rather underwhelming, it did include our crossings workshop poems.

We had a bash at Tetra Pak printing with The Printer. No tracing option, I called over to my old drawing teacher nearby: “You know how rubbish my drawing is!” She chuckled. Using styli, I etched a lopsided butterfly and Phil a very detailed bee, the antenna drooping as he ran out of space. He again whinged kids’ efforts were better, especially Ben The Caterpillar. We washed ink off our hands and wandered up the riverside.

Rippling with colour, tiny bugs with transparent wings hid on leafy stems; only visible on zoomed-in photos. Surprised to see the crap market on, we battled through a packed square to ask for lavender oil at the aromatherapy stall. The price almost doubled in 2 years, I gave it a miss. We found a few bargains in convenience stores, browsed the new witch bookshop (aka Harry Potter emporium) and waylaid an erstwhile pub mate going to a trad pub for a Jive Bunny disco.

Phil’s back pain worse Sunday, I thought it maybe from hunching over the etching or going out the house 2 days running. Cold, grey and damp, we stayed in. 20 years ago we might have gone for Gin and Pimm’s at the canalside pub before nicking cake at the parish church garden party. More sedate these days, I wrote a haigaⁱⁱ and tackled the landing. Planning to clean the rug, by the time I’d hoovered and rebuilt a tripod storage basket which predictably collapsed, I was knackered. A blissfully unaware Phil didn’t hear the clattering and swearing! Sleep mediocre, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a decent night.

Shats told Sophie Raworth other countries had airport staff shortages. Nowt to do with Brexit, there’d be no special visas for foreign workers. Touring with Jeff Beck, a ‘humble’ Johnny Depp spent £50,000 on a Brummie curry. After 4 days’ hard toadying by her subjects, Queenie appeared on Buck House’ balcony. Saying she was ‘humbled’, took the biscuit! Lucy Powell wrote in The Guardian that as labour captured British values, cherished institutions and believed our best days were ahead, they enshrined patriotic principles more than tories. Short-term ‘red meat’ policies like selling Channel 4 and reverting to imperial measures, diminished our global reputation, cost jobs and denied us ‘moments of togetherness’. Grimsby Town returned to league football and Wales beat Ukraine to reach the world cup. A jubilant Gareth Bale said the ‘crazy journey’ was ‘literally what dreams are made of’.

Monday mostly spent on admin, I thanked The Researcher for posting my takeover blog and discovered the main Crossings expo was at the town hall next Saturday, for one day only until it moved elsewhere. Why such short notice? I read a letter from NHS pensions and registered to access details online. Unsure if getting the paltry amount now would affect my benefit, I rang and spoke to a nice Geordie. He didn’t know but clarified I could draw on it anytime after my next birthday. As it would go up with inflation, I decided to leave it ‘til I really needed it, which might not be long the way things were going!

Thousands stranded by cancelled flights at the end of half-term and Platty Joobs, those who made it back faced Yorkshire bus and London tube strikes. Jesse Norman published his letter to Boris saying the Gray report showed he ‘presided over a culture of casual law-breaking’ and to describe himself as ‘vindicated’ was ‘grotesque’. He also lambasted the Rwanda policy, selling channel 4, the ‘foolhardy and illegal’ Northern Ireland policy, banning noisy protests and no ‘sense of mission’. In letters to the 1922 committee, MPs cited the St Pauls booing and jitters before 2 byelections. Some post-dated until after the long weekend, the threshold of 54 was reached. Hoping to ‘draw a line’ under it, Boris wrote to all his MPs and addressed the committee before the evening’s confidence vote. He won by a mere 68. As reporters stupidly stood in Downing Street at teatime, they ignored a woman in a taffeta dress posing at the shiny door and in the evening, Bella Ciao blasting in the background. Pressure Drop Brewery reduced staff work time from 5 to 4 days for the same pay. ONS reckoned UK coronavirus restrictions led to £140bn ‘forced savings’. I bet tories hated that! Twitter failing to supply fake account info, Elon Musk threatened to pull out of the deal.

Waking with a claggy throat Tuesday, I moped and almost stayed abed but didn’t. Opening a pack of coffee, I discovered Ocado sent beans instead of granules. Grinding them tedious, I dossed with a cuppa and started draft-posting the journal before going to the co-op. Previously just grabbing essential milk, I red shelf labels to note a 4-pinter was almost ½ price by volume. How had I missed that money saver?

Heartless tory Brendan Clark-Smith moaned to Jeremy Vine that people used ‘personal tragedy’ to try ousting the PM. Speculation continuing on his future, Boris thanked cabinet for their support and vowed to get on with the people’s business, level up, cut government spending and taxes. He told them to look at ways to reduce costs and drive reform. PAC reported Levelling Up decisions gambled taxpayers’ money on slogans. Will Haigh likened the PM to a mad pilot who’d locked himself in the cockpit and being inducted into the Order of the Bath, Pat Vallance was ‘disappointed’ by the rule-flouting. Labour urged The House to vote for committee for standards in public life recommendations giving Geidt powers to initiate investigations into ministerial code breaches. 79 migrants brought ashore, 10,000 made dodgy channel crossings so far this year. Russia in control of ½ Donbas, Vlod said ‘heroic’ defence of the region continued. Calling him a concrete friend to Ukraine, he was jubilant Boris survived the confidence vote. Talks failing, RMT announced another tube strike 21^st June and the first national action in 30 years affecting Network Rail and 13 TOCs on 3 days later in June. Monkeypox became a notifiable disease.

Downward Spiral

Overnight indigestion persisting into Wednesday, I exercised through discomfort, moved tons of clothes (drying ridiculously slowly for June) and vacuumed the living room, finding an easter chick beneath the sofa and a wine stain on the throw. On the front bench at PMQs, Trussed-Up Liz resembled a corpse. Saying the confidence vote showed his own party loathed the PM, Angela Eagle asked if they didn’t trust him, why should we? Boris harped on about those imaginary high-wage, high-skilled jobs. Ian Blackford referenced Monty Python’s Black Knight: ‘it’s only a flesh wound’. Rather than laying into the PM, Keir dwelt on the NHS’s GP shortage, decrepit buildings, waiting times and ambulances arriving after patients died. I hated to agree with Boris that the line of attack wasn’t working. Goblin Saj later waded into a row on NHS Digital removing the word ‘woman’ from advice on cervical and ovarian cancer. As if there weren’t bigger things to worry about! Costs spiralling out of control, the HS2 West Coast mainline link was cancelled, thus rendering the project an expensive Brummie commuter line. Esther McVey wanted it scrapped altogether.

I posted a journal entry and again baffled by the short notice, shared a Crossings expo poster attached to an e-mail. Fatigue, aches and pains mitigated against a planned trip to Shopping Town but Phil wanted gentle back exercise. Strolling down the street, he photographed doors. A neighbour entered her house as he took a snap. “Do you like my door?” Noting the lovely entrance tiles, she asked did he want another pic? “No, just the door!” She didn’t think we were nuts at all!

We wandered terraced backstreets for more doors and spectacular grasses until needing refreshment, we got pop from the shop and sat on the riverside. On the way back, we chatted over the wall to New Gran drinking outside the corner pub, about jubilee weekend antics and her recent birthday. Having disappeared from her profile, I wasn’t sure of the exact date.

UK GDP stagnating, the OECD growth forecast dropped to 3.64% for 2022 and 0% for 2023. Minimum pricing in Scotland backfired as drinkers stinted on food to buy alcohol. Was that what pub-goers round here did? Network Rail contingency planning, the RMT said they were open to ‘meaningful discussions’. Admitting a vacancy freeze, TfL insisted there’d be no redundancies or pension changes. The WTO warned of a global food crisis due to the blockade. The UN held talks in Turkey for a grain corridor and Russia demanded Ukraine removed mines first.

Shopping on Thursday, even reduced stuff was beyond budget. I wasn’t surprised hard-up families skipped meals, according to charities. I jested with My Mate at the till that Phil’s back problem conveniently meant he couldn’t carry shopping. On the way back, 3 geese waddled down the road with a pair of adorable fluffy yellow goslings. Unconsciously exclaiming ‘aww!’ I observed nobody else stopped to look – miserable gits!

Speaking in Blackpool, Boris maintained we couldn’t spend our way out of the cost of living crisis and higher wages would push up prices, leading to a 1970’s-style spiral of stagflation. Unions decried abandonment of the high-wage, high-skilled economy pledge. The latest wheeze to shore up support was extending ‘right to buy’. Including housing associations, housing benefit could be used to pay off or apply for mortgages, with a ‘help to buy ISA’ – good luck saving a deposit on the crap interest rate! He vowed a house would be built for everyone sold. Not the 30,000 formerly promised, Keir cited a pilot in Small Heath where homes weren’t rebuilt as it cost more than what they sold for. The re-hashed plans ‘baffling, unworkable and a dangerous gimmick’, Shelter’s Polly Neafe predicted we’d be “stuck in the same destructive cycle of selling off and knocking down 1,000s more social homes than get built.” On QT, Psycho Bateman said every house sold meant a family off the waiting list. Care4Calais, Detention Action and PCSU* asked the high court for an injunction to stop the first Rwanda flight. Bonnie Prince Charlie called the policy ‘appalling’ and a caller to Jeremy Vine advocated unused boats intercept and process migrants in The Channel and blow them up! The case lost, an appeal was due Monday. Aslef drivers striking on different dates late June, TSSA balloted Avanti West Coast staff. PAC criticised DHSC for burning unused PPE from the start of the pandemic. Europe’s largest Spinosaurus was discovered on the Isle Of Wight.

Worried a headache presaged illness Friday morning, I minimised exercise and chores, posted a blog and managed an afternoon walk. We crossed to the church garden where one gosling slept and the other hid beneath an adult’s wing, before heading up to woods and farmland (see Cool Places). Coming back on the towpath, the Canal Dweller loudly declared he loved my Valley Life articles and a man resembling Dave Angel walked ahead of us, prompting a chorus of Moonlight Shadow.

Due to increased transmissibility of the 2 newest Omicron variants (BA.4 and BA.5), covid rates in England went up for the first time since April. Unable to wait for council tax rebate cheques to clear, the hard-up queued to cash them at pawnbrokers, losing £15 if not turned away. ONS found 52% used less domestic energy, 46%, bought less food and 40% made less non-essential car journeys – not such a bad thing. Minister Heather Wheeler apologised for calling Birmingham and Blackpool godawful places, saying the comment didn’t reflect her actual views.

About to leave the house Saturday, a sudden downpour necessitated the anorak. At the Crossings expo, we spoke to Drawing Teacher at the door and watched the photo slideshow. Overlong with too many from organisers, Phil fidgeted as we waited for mine appear. After seeing all but one, the laptop froze. We left Drawing Teacher and co-volunteers fiddling with it. The square packed with al fresco quaffers, I quipped: “the cost of living crisis biting hard!” Phil said it felt ominous. Did he mean the pub vibe? No, the air. Sure enough, another sharp shower descended. Finding the cake I made last weekend mouldy, I sulked. Phil fed the green stuff to crows and the pigeon squatters and bought one from the co-op to cheer me up.

Loud voices and a revving car woke me early Sunday. Brekkie should’ve been a breeze but a splattered tomato, broken egg, blinding sun and a crashing lid stressed me out. Phil came to the rescue. I insisted we prioritise incomplete chores that he offered to do Thursday, then edited photos, added to the ‘spring animals’ Facebook album, made one of orange and pink flowers and watched telly. Deciding we still liked Waterworld, we wondered if the film got panned 30 years ago because it was ahead of its time.

Commentators all agreeing everything was going to shit, CBI boss Tony Danker said households were going into recession this year; i.e., buying less shit. Leaked before publication Monday, the food strategy contained vague words like ‘initiative’ and ‘liaison’ and no direct interventions such as sugar tax. Getting us to eat venison was the only concrete idea. Schools were ‘deeply disappointed’ at no extension of free meals. 22% of kids eligible, Julie McCulloch of the Assoc. of School and College Leaders said poverty affected closer to 30%. McDonalds re-opened in Russia as Tasty: That’s It. In the US, demos demanded gun law changes to stop the murder of kids and Google engineer Blake Lemoine claimed his AI Lamda was sentient. It considered itself human and feared being turned off, comparing it to death. Accused of anthropomorphism, Lemoine was suspended, but what if he was right?

Relaxation techniques failing to distract me from tummy ache, I slept fitfully and still felt iffy on Monday. Hanging damp towels out in a breeze, neighbours sympathised with the travails of drying laundry in the unheated indoors. Tired from activity, I dossed before posting the haiga and writing. In the co-op later, I could hardly hear myself think – I’d forgotten how noisy it was after school! Using leftover lentils to make surprisingly good pâté, we reminisced about hippy cafés and Phil posted a 1970’s-style art.

The UK economy shrank in April for the second month in a row, further risking recession. The government blamed the negative -0.3% on covid recovery and extra spending. As the Northern Ireland protocol bill was published, Boris went to wear a Hi-Viz and drive a tractor at a farm in Hayle, Cornwall and Micheal Teashop called it a new low point. After all the palaver and whingeing last year, ALW sent a message to the last stage performance of Cinderella that it was a ‘costly mistake.’

After I wasted Tuesday morning applying hot water and defrosting spray to an ice lump in the fridge, Phil hacked it off. Going to the garden, I tripped over the empty dustbin left at the front door and waited for the window cleaner to move his hose, snaking round the corner, so I could put the bin back. I planted sprouted veg ends then attacked overgrown shrubs and creeping weeds. Warmer than it looked from inside, I was about to give up with a hot thirst when Phil emerged wearing a jacket. “Are you off somewhere?” “No.” Realising it wasn’t cold, he took it off and helped sweep debris. Yorkshire ostensibly the best place to see the full Strawberry Supermoon, it was so low here that it hid behind hills.

Wages fell 4.5% in the last quarter when 9% inflation was taken into account. Unemployment was up slightly but vacancies reached a record 1.3 million. 8.8 million inactive due to older workers retiring early during the pandemic, Jon Ashworth accused ministers of ‘utter complacency’. As persistent staff shortages fated airports to more chaos, DfT and CAA instructed airlines to cancel summer flights. Which? told the commons business committee the industry and government must jointly shoulder blame. Petrol at a record high 191.2p per litre, government pulled the plug on the electric car discount. Losing their appeal, Detention Action and PCSU called sending people to Rwanda before a full judicial review in July ‘scandalous’ and the UN High Commission for Refugees said it was ‘all wrong’. Judges assessing the move necessary to deter dangerous crossings could be construed as political. Boris cited criticism from Charlie and CofE grandees and reproached lawyers representing migrants for ‘abetting’ criminal gangs. Instead of the 100 deportations originally planned, Individual case hearings brought the figure down to 12, then 7 then 1. The ECHR stepped in to completely ground the Tuesday night flight to Kigali, saying before establishing legitimacy, there was no legal route back. Undeterred, Rwanda stood ready to welcome migrants and the UK started planning another flight. Two refugees later claimed to have been beaten up and dragged to the plane. Meanwhile, 440 arrived in dinghies. Whitby council banned second homes and the unearthed Blue Peter time capsule from 1981 was opened live on This Morning to reveal a pile of slime – slime capsule!

Coronation Chicken Kiev

The next day starting better than the last few, we made the twice-postponed trip to Shopping Town (see Cool Places 2ⁱⁱⁱ). A shame we missed PMQs, as data showing the UK had the second lowest growth rate globally with only Russia worse, Keir went on the attack. He obviously took Rayner’s advice to ‘put more welly into it’! Boris was rebuked for claiming labour were on the side of people traffickers. Nasty Patel Believed the Rwanda plot was fully compliant with domestic and international obligations. Disappointed and surprised by the ECHR decision, she blamed the ‘usual suspects’ and the opposition for thwarting her efforts against the willy of the people. She told MPs prohibitions on flights to Kigali wasn’t an absolute bar and those ordered to be freed would be tagged while relocation was ‘progressed’. Furious tories called for secession from the meddling ECHR. Did they not know The Council of Europe was set up after WWII and had nowt to do with the EU? And I bet they didn’t mind the ECHR intervening in the case of captured Brits fighting in the Donbas sentenced to death! Yvette Coop called it ‘government by gimmick’. Yep, gimmicks for gammons! Lord Geidt resigned. Not saying why in a short public statement, a letter to Boris disclosed later, indicated the final straw wasn’t Partygate but being asked to offer a view on government measures risking ‘a deliberate and purposeful breach of the ministerial code’. Deemed to concern tariffs on Chinese steel, Phil thought it bogus. A fortnight later, government extended the tariffs for 2 years, against WTO rules. The EU triggered further legal action over the NI protocol. Maros Sefcovic said the UK’s unilateral act had ‘no legal nor political justification’. One of the biggest Anglo-Saxon burial sites was uncovered on the HS2 route. At least some good came out of the glorified commuter line!

Cleaning the bedroom Thursday, Phil crawled under the bed to screw a detached leg in place, despite his back. After hoovering, I worked on the journal and pegged bedding out. The Woman Next Door and a friend chatted on her doorstep then promptly went inside – did they fear eavesdropping? In the quiet co-op, my basket totalled just short to use a coupon. The cashier let me grab one more thing for a low-cost shop. I trudged home in blazing sun and persuaded Phil out to the garden. Clearing another debris pile, we observed the myriad life including what he called springtails. Sure they were to blame for my bites, he thought it unlikely as they were a kind of shrimp. Fatigued and overheated again, I lay down.

Expecting GDP to drop by 0.3% this quarter, BOE sent a letter to Rishi stating the obvious on a succession of large economic shocks and raised the interest rate to 1.25%. British Chambers of Commerce moaned it wouldn’t address the global causes of increased business costs and labour worried of the impact on families. Shutting down ½ the rail network, Shats said strikes endangered thousands of jobs and promised legislation to enable the use of agency workers. Unions said that was unsafe and recruitment firms fretted they’d be held responsible for putting temps crossing pickets in harm’s way. On QT, the useless red wall tory said nowt and Thangam Debonnaire claimed the Rwanda ploy already wasn’t working as it didn’t deter dangerous channel crossings. Former ethics adviser Alex Allen told Newscast failure to sack Patel wasn’t the reason he resigned but didn’t explain what was. Sad his mate Geidt was put in a difficult position, he had no plans to re-apply for the post – currently on hold.

The laptop excruciatingly slow after a restart Friday, I didn’t get very far drafting blogs. As I hung another load on the line, The Woman Next Door outside reading, remarked I was always washing. “No; just making use of the good weather.” We walked up to a hillside settlement, enjoying a picnic en route (See Cool Places) and returned via the predictably rammed town centre. Boozing gammons deterred us from a pint. Sweaty and smelly, I showered and lay down to rest. Officially a heatwave, it was greyly muggy when I fetched the laundry in. A dog-walking neighbour agreed it felt like it might rain – it didn’t; for almost a week.

The jubilee bank holiday was blamed for coronavirus spreading across the UK. More hospitalisations but low ICU cases and death, total fatalities stood at 179,363. Boris avoided a conference organised by red wall tories in Doncaster by going to Ukraine, prompting the moniker Chicken Kiev. Newspaper ‘I’ aligned his calls to Vlod with dates bad news broke including Partygate and the confidence vote. Paul Scuzzball said airport staff should work longer hours. Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill knocked Harry Styles off number 1 thanks to Stranger Things. Phil advocated burning a gannet colony infested with bird flu on Bass Rock.

Listening to music Saturday, Black Star made me sad. Not because it was Bowie’s last album but because it was 6 years since the Brexit vote, Jo Cox’s murder, the death of Eldest Brother and Mum going into hospital. I put something cheerier on, edited photos and went to the co-op, spotting a reduced chicken and an old pub mate for the third time in as many weeks after not doing so for years. He did say that would keep happening! Served by a young man at the kiosk, My Mate on the adjacent till stared into space. Not bored, but having a moment. A merc indicating to turn right stopped for me at the zebra and parked on the street below. As I caught up, Councillor Friend got out. “I didn’t recognise you in that posh car!” It was her boss’, who lived in Spain. She’d given it a run to go canvassing in sunny Wakefield (unlike the overcast upper valley).

Plans to tag migrants arriving by boat was condemned for treating those fleeing persecution as criminals. New ambassador for women’s health, Dame Lesley Regan wanted one-stop community hubs and new cost of living tsar David Buttress said private companies must help with rising prices. Saying they did what they could, nice capitalist Richard Walker couldn’t increase wages but gave staff an ‘unprecedented’ 15% discount on Iceland products.

Although wobbly first thing Sunday, I arrived at the market slightly earlier than usual. Stopping to chat with a neighbour untangling roots from a large pot, we had no idea why her normally friendly dog ferociously barked at me. Besides knobbly veg, I found 2 books in the phone-box and bargain herbs in the convenience store. After washing the filthy veg, I collapsed on the sofa to recover and write.

Told on Sunday Morning airline bosses said he didn’t know what he was talking about, Shats sniggered and side-stepped blame for opening and closing borders during the pandemic. After accusing unions of bribing rail workers to strike, he took no responsibility even though he’d not spoken to them for a month, erroneously griped they’d gone on a demo instead of meeting bosses, refused to intervene, dismissed RMT calls for him to do so as a stunt and said there was no class war. Keir reckoned he ‘fed off’ the division. TSSA complained TOCs hadn’t shared plans to shut ticket offices. New army boss Gen Sanders wrote to all soldiers that we needed an army ready to fight Russia. Heatwaves saw 40⁰C temperatures in Europe and monsoon floods killed at least 70 in Bangladesh. US kids aged over 6 months ridiculously qualified for covid jabs.

Chilly after a cold night, Monday became warm and sunny. I ignored a slight headache to strip the chicken carcass before putting food waste out. B&B Man stood on the communal wall pegging sheets, hampering recycling bin access. Still struggling after lunch, Phil suggested sitting in the sun. I snapped back shopping needed doing and some help would be good. He hung washing up while I went to the co-op for a heavy load and recovered with a cuppa outside. Phil joined me the garden bench, made gazebo-like by overhanging freesia. I lazily pulled at weeds and pruned, almost bumping into The Widower on his fourth walk-past. I then attacked an overgrown buddleia on the adjacent steps. Phil helped sweep before a doze amid the sounds of birds and bees, interrupted by Phil chuntering and Walking Friend’s hello, on her way to meet The Poet. I sleepily lay on the bed and briefly nodded off with book in hand. Phil sighing loudly in the evening, I asked what was up. He wasn’t making enough money. The war actually partly responsible for Shitterstock work drying up, he decided to give up the Leeds studio. With hindsight, he could’ve done so ages ago but who knew things would be this shit 2 years on? He rang the council next morning to arrange to vacate within 3 months. Coronation Chicken was a couple of weeks late but made a delicious retro dinner.

2 million with long-covid, Kings College found 50% less chance from Omicron as opposed to Delta. Sufferer Terence Burke won a case to be classed as disabled, clearing the way for an unfair dismissal claim. Last ditch talks to avert strikes fruitless, Psycho Patrick Bateman defended Boris on Newsnight, calling rail practices Spanish and 19^th century. Still refusing to intervene, banging on about modernisation could be seen as incitement. Halfords offered free bike hire. Luggage piling up, Heathrow imposed a cap. EasyJet cut summer flights by 10% and Ryanair promised rescue flights. Their Stanstead base not as badly hit, O’Leary attributed ground staff shortages to Brexit.

Slightly more sleep led to a better start Tuesday. A waning half-moon and sun blazing through the landing window, I wondered was it a solstice phenomenon? English Heritage ludicrously placed netting on Stonehenge to bar nesting jackdaws. We researched local standing stones for our own midsummer jaunt but went to a clough instead. Even in the shade, we struggled with heat and dehydration (see Cool Places).

On the first day of the strike, Keir wrote to shadow ministers telling them not to join RMT picket lines. Diane Abbot was one of several labour MPs to defy him. A Cloudflare crash affected millions of coffee-cuppers working from home. Metro reported on Londoners struggling to work on buses. Lucky for them they weren’t Arriva, in the 3^rd week of striking up north. NEU to ballot teachers on possible industrial action in the autumn unless offered a pay rise above 3%, NHS, fire and postal workers could also strike, after new inflation figures Wednesday and Boris babbling about ‘staying the course’ but promising a return to triple lock pensions meaning a 9.1% increase. Where was the parity? Unite said ‘cost of living’ bonuses up to £3,000 offered to Lloyds and Rolls Royce staff, fell short of what was needed.

No Reasons To Be Cheerful

After lengthily cleaning the kitchen Wednesday, I collapsed on the sofa for PMQs. Not answering a question on allegedly requesting an official appointment for Carrie, Boris wittered about high employment. Keir wanted to know how many meetings ministers held to avert strikes? An evasive PM insisted they were the party of the railways. Keir answered the question – none – yet Boris had time to attend a lavish do and sell a £120,000 meeting. To claims the government blamed everyone else, contradicted each other on pay rises and cuts, rolled over on banker’s bonuses and slashed nurses’ pay, Boris attacked picketing labour MPs and spouted the usual crud on taking tough decisions.

Hanging upstairs rugs on the line to expunge dust, The Widower happened to pass. “Do you have a carpet-beater?” “Somewhere.” While he looked, I used a telescopic duster and Phil used his fists. The Widower not finding the beater, I said: “We’re improvising. Phil’s pretending it’s Boris Johnson, or any other tory of your choice!” Old upholstery spray cleaner meant for cars was effective and quick-drying in the hot sun. Refreshing with homemade pop, I greeted The Decorator backing into the last parking space. The Woman Next Door then stopped right in front of us. In the middle of doing stuff, I politely asked her not to. She said she’d just unload and left the engine running, forcing me to move from the bench. A lovely early evening, the sun briefly reached the nearer bench. I sat with the Kindle watching news until the sun moved out of range and BBC London came on. Planning mushroom pasta for dinner, 2/3 of a value box had gone fuzzy. Not a bargain if you chucked most of them! I thought substitute chilli was ample for 2 days but there wasn’t much left. Phil denied being a greedy git.

NAO reckoned Ofgem added £94 to every household gas bill by letting weak suppliers into the market, leading to collapse. After accusing the government of lying on Newsnight, Mick Lynch asked Carole Gammone on Jeremy Vine ‘what are you even saying?’ Quite! She was in favour of the pensions rise as nobody could live on £250 a week. They and me, lived on half that! Only 50% of northern trains running between strike days, TSSA settled for an extra 7.2% but RMT talks broke down. Lynch said Shats wrecked negotiations ‘by not allowing Network Rail to withdraw their letter threatening redundancy for 2,900 of our members’. Until the government unshackled them and TOCs, there’d be no settlement. Delightfully-named Network Rail negotiator Tim Shovellor insisted the majority of job losses would come from ‘voluntary redundancy and natural wastage’. Were his ancestors steam engine firemen? A clause was hastily added to the Bill of Rights to ignore ECHR injunctions before Rabid Raab presented it to the commons (ref Rwanda). Vaccine-derived polio virus detected in London sewers sparked a nationwide hunt for the culprit and calls for parents to get their sprogs immunised. An Afghanistan earthquake killed 1,000. The useless Taliban halted a search for survivors the next day.

Though warm and still Thursday, cloudy skies deterred me from painting windowsills. Hefting shopping back from the co-op, I was startled by a dog behind a hippy van on the street below barking. Not at me but Next-Door-But-One ahead of me on the steps. Already nervy, my bad mood intensified when the handle on the so-called bag for life broke, tumbling loose mushrooms to the floor. Rain came in the form of a light shower at siesta time, lulling me into a 15 minute snooze.

On the 2^nd day of the rail strike, the local mill café owner whinged of no customers to Look North and Kwasi Modo said using agency staff wouldn’t undermine safety. Unions disagreed. BA check-in staff threatened peak season strikes at Heathrow if pay reductions made during covid restrictions weren’t reinstated. Not even asking for an increase, bosses claimed some staff were offered the 10% back – yeah, managers!

No bunting or parties to celebrate 6 years since the referendum results were declared, I turned off Newscast when Nasty Nigel appeared and found an apt cartoon for Brexit Island asking: how’s that going? Meanwhile, the EU started a 10-year process to admit Ukraine. A UK rise in racially-aggravated assault was attributed to Euro 2020. Over the pond, Owen Diaz turned down $12m compensation for racism at Tesla.

Friday, I tackled the kitchen runner. The spray ineffective, woven chickens re-appeared after applying liquid cleaner. I went outside in sultry afternoon warmth before more rain came (fine drizzle rather than predicted yellow thunder, a distant rumble was heard) and hacked at rhododendron near the back wall, accidentally lopping off quince branches. Resting was disturbed by Shed Boy and mate communicating unintelligibly.

An estimated 23% rise on the previous week, 1:35 with covid worried health experts. The unjabbed were urged to get one, the elderly to be boosted, and the infected to not spread it. Imperial College found vaccines saved 19.8 million lives; in rich countries. The tories lost by-elections in Wakefield to Labour and Tiverton where Lib Dems overturned a seismic 24,000 margin. A ‘distressed and disappointed’ Oliver Dowdy resigned as party chair at 5.30 a.m. Hobnobbing at CHOGM** in Kigali while Carrie and Camilla had a nice chat, Boris said he’d keep going and address concerns of voters who wanted him to get on with the job. Err, no; they wanted you to jog on! Dreadful Doris tweeted he faced the worst cost of living crisis since WW11. Perhaps that was the one preceding Halo. Reviewing the new Paramount+ series, Jeremy Vine queried why in futuristic sci-fi’s, the world was always a desert – duh! National debt interest reached a record £7.6 billion. Outgoing CBI chair Bilimoria advised tax cuts. The US supreme court ended the constitutional right to abortion. Pro-lifers rejoiced, others warned of back-street terminations and death. Together with allowing gun-toting in the streets and coalpits to choke the air, The Trump might as well still be in charge. A choked Amy Garcia announced the sudden death of former Look North colleague Harry Gration.

Shed Boy noisily scraping out weeds woke me early Saturday. Inevitably followed by pressure washing, we’d wondered how long they’d let the joyful blooms flourish! At The Great Get-Together in the park, we perused stalls, picked up worthy freebies and joked with Councillor Friend and her Partner that a unit of beer on alcohol measuring cups wasn’t even a ½ pint. When did that happen? Maybe the cup should be expandable or telescopic! Not much for adults, no free cake left and music deafening, we headed to the quiet of a riverside bench and searched for fish, espying piles of rubbish instead. Gusts of wind and spots of rain ominous, we went home along the canal. At the river bridge, trout swam in the languorous shallows topped by car pollution. Shed Boy sweeping up, I asked if he’d take detritus I’d cleared from the steps along with his stuff to the tip. He said yes, if he got someone to take him. Thanking him, I silently queried why he couldn’t use his own transport. As the sun re-emerged, I topped up the binbags with more veg matter from the steps.

On Sunday Morning, Swiss Toni spouted the usual tory crap. Sharon Graham called David Lammy refusing to support BA strikes a new low for labour. Politics North extrapolated from the Wakefield by-election, most Yorkshire seats turning red. The laptop inexplicably turning itself off overnight, I restarted to post my brother’s birthday card on Facebook and write a haiga. Sewing the rest of the day made my fingers sore.

As Russia resumed bombing Kyiv, the G7 meeting in Bavaria put a price cap on their oil, banned their gold and joked about emulating Putin’s posing. Putin advised working on themselves before baring all. Boris bantered with Justin on who had the bigger plane. Chris Bryant called his hubris deranged. Prince Charlie accepting $3m cash donations in carrier bags from Qatar raised questions of undue influence. A suspected terrorist attack killed 2 men in Oslo. Pride events cancelled, some defiantly marched a couple of days later.

Barely able to keep my eyes open, it took a while to sleep and I woke after 2 hours feeling woozy and my Monday morning, I had pain across my forehead. I managed to fetch the laptop to post the haiga and write in bed. Depressed by debilitation, maybe it wasn’t such a surprise as I’d done many different things in the 6 weeks since the last bout, which was quite good-going. Fetching my lunch, an empty cereal box balancing on the tray for the recycling pile, fell under my feet on the stairs. Unable to move, I shouted for Phil’s help and fell back in bed exhausted. He disposed of rubbish and went to the co-op for basics plus reduced ham. Repose disturbed by the now daily ritual of geese in the street below, I looked out to see the growing goslings picking at moss between cobbles, as adults kept watch for cats and cars and Shed Girl tried to tempt them with grass for phone pics.

A recommended 15% rise in legal aid fees not implemented, barristers went on strike. A juniors salary of £12,000 more like that of a barista, did they mix up the job descriptions? Cruise missiles killed at least 20 when they hit a shopping centre in Kremenchuk. Decrying a war crime, Vlod asked G7 for more defence systems. In response to Russian aggression, relevant leaders went straight from Bavaria to Madrid to agree a boost to NATO’s Allied Reaction Force on the eastern flank. Boris pledged UK military spending would increase to 2.5% of GDP by 2028. In Westminster, the NI protocol bill passed the first commons vote and Dreadful Doris hosted a summit of broadband and mobile providers who made ‘stay connected’ pledges. A man shot dead an Atlanta Subway worker over too much mayo on his butty and 48 migrants boiled to death in an abandoned truck outside San Antonio. Another 2 later died in hospital and 3 men were arrested.

Rarely rising from my sickbed Tuesday, diggers beeping ‘stand clear’ and sirens screeching down the valley joined the squawking geese to hamper rest. Phil catered. His special omelette with ham, mushrooms and cheese was reminiscent of Greek holiday lunches!

2021 Census results showed the population in England and Wales grew 6%, less than expected, with 1:6 over 65. Baroness Heather Hallett began the delayed Covid-19 public inquiry. 7,000 in hospital, Jeremy Vine and Storm both had covid. Stand-ins asked was it time to reintroduce measures? Nobody would take any notice! Doctor Sarah advised face-masks in crowded places. MP/barrister turned commentator Gerry Hayes said the court system had ‘fallen apart’ and the cabinet were spineless. With ‘substantial and persistent concerns’ The Met were on special measures. That didn’t stop 20 cops arresting Stop Brexit man Steve Bray, on the day the Police, Crime, Sentencing & Courts Act came into force. BMA members urged to ‘channel their inner Mick Lynch’, it was hard to sympathise with GPs on £100k demanding an extra 30%.

After a bad night, I watched PMQs in bed Wednesday. The Bumbler still galivanting, Rabid Raab faced Rayner in Kung Fu Panda heels. Spouting the usual codswallop, he cheekily winked and jibed at her. She asked, with Boris vowing to stay on until 2030, would the party prop him up that long? Raab quipped he’d last longer than her leader to which she retorted, we couldn’t stomach him for 8 minutes, never mind 8 years. She was closer to the truth, as it turned out.

Unexpectedly charged another month’s studio rent, Phil stopped the direct debit and headed for Leeds. I thought it’d do him good to feel active, but he was so skint I had to give him the train fare. Seeing him off, the trellis strew the pavement again. It wasn’t even windy! I shooed him away and went out in my dressing gown to prop the dam thing up, glad the weather was slightly better than the previous two days. Left to my own devices, I brooded on the dire financial situation to be interrupted by Phil phoning to ask if I needed anything from Wilkos. I told him to get glue to fix a fragile old book I was reading. Stocks so low customers asked were they closing down and a 9 week wait for supplies, was it from Ukraine? Fuzzy from another short afternoon sleep, I juggled with dinner, irked when Phil rang from the return train. Forgetting to eat and drink all day, he scoffed food and gulped liquids. He’d made friends with a guy from an old Leeds rock band who took loads of the pesky furniture for his music studio.

After 6 months suspension on full pay, a written warning and a FPN for partying during lockdown, Sheffield council boss Kate Josephs apologised and returned to work. Harriet Harman would lead the Privileges Committee investigation into Boris’ lies.

During a terrible night, external humming and brightness vied with the stupid flashing laptop. Mediation led to fitful sleep. Thus Thursday started badly. Phil was also tired, from lugging furniture. Off to Leeds again, I griped at lack of communication and not being told anything until reaching crisis point. “I didn’t want to worry you.” No warning even more stressful, I asked: “Were you going to wait ‘til we were literally choosing between heating and eating?” Considering options, he searched for local part-time jobs. What the hell was a food production operative? Depressed because he’d tried hard to make self-employment work, he declared himself a loser. “No you’re not. You couldn’t know about covid or the war.” I made him a butty to take, nipped out to peg fusty towels on the line and went back to bed. Very warm, I opened the window as the racket which had plagued me since Monday abated and picked up the laptop when Phil called from Leeds, panicking he’d left an empty wheelie case in the park. Irked I’d have to go for it, I saw it near the door and rang him back. “Sorry, my mind’s all over the place.” “Calm down,” I screamed ironically. Mollified by an apology, I said at least he hadn’t lost the case. Too jittery to write, I hoovered the bedroom and brought the towels in as a woman walked a beautiful shiny black Labrador ‘puppy in training’ past.

Chris The Pincher resigned as tory whip after getting pissed and groping men at the Carlton Club. Labelled a Pound Shop Harvey Weinstein in 2017 by Alex Story, an official complaint and suspension from the party came the next day. Piers Corbyn got a fine for organising the Trafalgar Square anti-lockdown demos. An upgrade to the Trans-Pennine line between Huddersfield and Dewsbury was finally announced – already pretty good, what about the crap line we relied on? Ukraine claimed to have re-taken the tiny but strategic Black Sea Snake Island. Russia said they withdrew as a gesture of goodwill. Unlikely to alleviate the grain crisis, nobody was jubilant.

* PCSU – Public Communications Service Union

**CHOGM – Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting

References:

i. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/

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

iii. My Cool Places 2 blog:: https://wordpress.com/posts/hepdenerose2.wordpress.com

Part 102 – Happy Anniversary?

“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 1^st 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 21^st 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 75^th 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 12^th April followed by travellers from other visa-waiving countries 1^st 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 12^th 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/

Part 98 – This Page Intentionally Blank

“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

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 13^th 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

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

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!

*Scope of inquiry:15^th May 2020, garden party; 27^th Nov, leaving do; 10^th Dec; gathering at DoE, 15^th Dec, Xmas quiz.

The Dirty Dozen: 20^th May 2020, garden party; 18^th June, a gathering; 19^th June, Boris’ birthday party; 13^th Nov, 2 gatherings; 17^th Dec, 3 gatherings; 18^th Dec, ‘end of term’ party; 14^th Jan 2021, a gathering; 16^th April, 2 gatherings.

Excluded from report: 14^th Dec; Bailey’s lavish buffet, Met speaking to 2 attendees; 16^th Dec, DoT party.

**(Department of agriculture, environment & rural affairs)

References:

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

ii. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/

iii. The Sue Gray Report: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/1051374/Investigation_into_alleged_gatherings_on_government_premises_during_Covid_restrictions_-_Update.pdf

Part 88 –Off The Rails

“This was the first test of ‘levelling up’ and the government has completely failed and let down everybody in the north” (Keir Starmer)

Hitting The Buffers

No way I could do anything Monday morning, I crawled back in bed. Frustrated at hitting the buffers again, I kept occupied posting blogs and writing, until the inevitable head fug set in. Phil’s crafty homemade bread looked hefty. Very tasty, it got eaten before becoming a Midsomer murders weapon! After dinner, we watched part of the World Cup qualifier. England slaughtered San Marino 10-0 in a ridiculous match. Why were the tiny team even in the running?

16-17 year olds to get a second dose, Goblin Saj said he’d take advice on boosters for the under 40’s. Boris repeated “storm clouds were gathering over Europe” and Oliver Dowdy said it was up to us to prevent a lockdown Christmas. But festive dinners were back on the menu as thousands of foreign workers were recruited. Only half the available visas taken up before the deadline, it was judged enough to kill turkeys. Labour called for publication of papers on Owen Paterson’s advocacy for Randox and details of government contracts awarded. They also planned to investigate time spent on second jobs and force a vote to ban MPs from paid consultancies or directorships. Boris later copied them. Keir hailed it as a victory. A PM spokesman called Belarus forcing a migrant crisis and trying to undermine the EU ‘abhorrent’ and vowed to hold the Lukashenko regime accountable. After a taxi exploded outside Liverpool women’s hospital Sunday, cobra raised the terror threat level to severe. The passenger asked to be driven to the hospital just before 11 a.m., when remembrance services took place. Later named as Emad Al Swealmeen, he blew himself up. Driver David Perry escaped uninjured. Anti-terror officers questioned 4 people and conducted forensic searches. It emerged the bomb contained ball bearings which could have inflicted serious injury.

I slept deeply well into Tuesday morning until roused by Phil. “Is it late?” “Yes. Shall I open the budgie curtains?” “No, I can do it. You shouldn’t really wake me when I’m ill. “Sorry; just making sure you’re alright.” Less fatigued but sneezy, I worked on the journal all morning. While Phil went to the co-op, I took washing out the of machine, struggled taking the basket upstairs and collapsed on the bed to read the nature trail booklet I got in the charity shop last week, when the phone rang. A very nice Dr. Jekyll arranged for a self-test kit to be left at the surgery reception for me. Quiet time wasn’t quiet at all as the chainsaws predictably started up at dusk. It was also a struggle to sleep at night-time.

ONS reported 995 deaths w/e 5^th November, the highest since w/e 12^th March. Jeremy Vine said 94% of Singaporeans were vaccinated and estimated 5 million refuseniks in the UK. Where did he get that from? The Tesco Christmas ad garnered 3,000 complaints as Santa brandished a Covid Pass. Politico revealed 47 companies got PPE contracts via the ‘VIP lane’ as recommendations from ministers and top civil servants were seen as ‘more credible’. Russia blew up a satellite, ISS astronauts had to shelter and the USA said they were weaponising space. Unemployment down to 4.3%, employment and vacancies were up. How come? Were they made up jobs? The Nord Stream 2 Pipeline was held up by a need to be registered as a German company. Recalling Phil’s experience of trying to navigate their complicated system, I exclaimed: “Mein got! Good luck with that!” Phil chuckled: “You must go to the post office in Stuttgart…”

The Great Train Robbery

Forced up after hardly any sleep Wednesday, I felt really crap. Phil half asleep, I fetched brekkie from a freezing kitchen, got back in bed, wrote ‘Autumn Medley’ for Cool Placesⁱ and watched PMQs.

The tory MPs who bothered to turn up, appeared in masks. Keir asked had Boris broken his promise on Crossrail for the North? Boris replied: ‘wait and see’, as the IRP* signalled ‘the biggest programme of investment in rail for a century’ and levelling up across the UK. Turning to another broken promise, Keir asked the PM to confirm scrapping the eastern leg of HS2. Boris blathered that northern people would benefit massively. Keir noted he’d still not said yes. Going onto Owen Paterson, he advised the PM to do the decent thing and say sorry for giving the green light to corruption. Boris reiterated the need for a cross-party approach to ensure nobody exploited their position and asked Kier how he earned money from law firm Mishcon de Reya before becoming leader. Lindsay Hoyle admonished, it was for him to answer, not ask questions. Keir called him “a coward, not a leader.” Spending weeks defending sleaze, “waving one white flag won’t be enough to restore trust.” (he subsequently retracted ‘coward’ as unparliamentary language). Boris went on about working together, addressing the appeals process and accused Keir of trying to prosecute others for actions he’d taken himself. Hoyle waded in again: “We play by the rules, don’t we?” and Keir added: “Upholding standards didn’t last long…when someone in my party breaks the rules, I kick them out. He tries to get them off the hook.” A full independent investigation was the only way to get to the bottom of how Paterson helped Randox get £600 million in contracts. Boris later told the commons liaison committee it was a mistake to try to save Paterson and suggested he was misled by colleagues.

Unable to get to shops, I placed an Ocado order, adding some Christmas stuff, and bought a couple of things from evil Amazon. The café owner texted asking Phil to take his pictures down. “Maybe you’re not the best artist in town after all!” I jibed. Actually, it was to make space for tinsel. He also received an invite for a booster. Where was mine? Had it failed to come because my phone was updating all day? I looked on the NHS central system but the local health centre not an option, I left it.

Due to energy, fuel, food and hospitality costs, inflation reached 2% in October, twice the BOE target and the highest in a decade. Lidl to increase wages by 6% from March, they’d be the best-paying supermarket. BBC news went to Belfast where Lord Frosty Gammon was after an agreement to alter the protocol. If that wasn’t possible, he’d use article 16 to suspend the parts he didn’t like. Acknowledging difficulties, the EU had already come up with a ‘reasonable package’ but Frosty wanted more radical change. Nasty Patel said a ‘dysfunctional asylum system’ allowed the likes of Al Swealmeen to remain and carry out terror attacks. That’s your fault! As Thangam Debonnaire pointed out, tories had been in charge for 11 years!

Still crap Thursday, I became exhausted after bathing, changing sheets and fetching coffee and dossed in bed before working on the takeover blog for The Researcher. It looked better than I remembered since leaving it when overtaken by life events last month. Phi went to the co-op and noticed the front door had been washed. From the landing window I saw the window cleaner’s van and advised Phil to be ready for the knock. He went to the kitchen but sure enough, the window cleaner rapped on the door. I shouted down, to be answered by the window cleaner. Eventually Phil heard me, paid and went back to making lunch. Getting afternoon coffee, I noted Phil had scrubbed the washing up bowl to blinding effect.

Saj promised the NHS Federation they’d get what they needed. The Environment Agency were investigating 2,000 sewage treatment works with findings possibly leading to prosecution and fines. Shats announced the IRP aka The Great Train Robbery. As expected, he scrapped HS2 to Leeds and Northern Powerhouse Rail (NPR). Instead, there’d be £96bn to upgrade the East Coast mainline and improve existing track (£42bn of which was already committed to HS2 between London and Birmingham). Tracy Brabin at Leeds station said it wasn’t what was promised. Anger from the Northern Research Group and in the commons, Keir said Boris had ripped up promises and failed the north: “You can’t believe a word the PM says.” Idiotically dressed up in orange at a Network Rail logistics hub near Selby, Boris retorted that was ‘total rubbish’: “Those extra high-speed lines take decades, and they don’t deliver the commuter benefits…we will eventually do them.” Money for Leeds super-tram was confirmed and Khan asked for another £1.9 bn for TfL.

On Question Time, Stephen Flynn, SNP labelled the debacle just another broken promise to add to a long list: ‘just look at the record’. Tory Mims Davies insisted they’d been honest. Stella Creasey guffawed, her own backbenchers were red-faced with shame. Creasey criticised Nasty Patel’s’ divisive immigration language and said we didn’t know if those arriving on boats were ‘illegal’. As 125,000 asylum-seekers awaited decisions, they always looked for someone else to blame. Mims asked Steve why Scotland didn’t take refugees. He snapped back, because they didn’t get any money to pay for it, adding the swell of refugees was our fault for warring in the Middle East and we had a duty to look after them. Discussing MPs second jobs, lawyer Nazi Afzal suggested they pick fruit and stack shelves. Good idea! I’d add clean toilets! A brainless Canadian psychologist said only 3% of the population were psychopathic and being corrupt was counter-productive. An audience member shouted: “why are the 3% in charge then?” creating much mirth.

Laura K interviewed Irish PM Micheal Martin for Newscast. He blamed all the problems on Brexit. The agreement signed in good faith, there weren’t ‘an abundance of checks’ at the border and the EU sincerely wanted to engage and get a solution; possible with goodwill on both sides. Previously saying it’d be ‘reckless’ to trigger article 16, he was encouraged by dialogue between Frosty and Maros Sefcovic and diplomatically pleaded: ‘don’t make it another nightmare Christmas!’

Backtracking

Very bright early Friday morning, I peeped through the curtains to view a bright dawn with blue sky and arty clouds, but the sun didn’t last long. Feeling slightly better but still fatigued, it took a while to come round. I worked on blogs and spotted a message saying the amazon package would arrive later. I told Phil not to answer the door. “Why? Is it a nutter?” It came when he was at the co-op, disturbing my quiet time. I stuck a hoodie to stand at the bottom of the stairs while a young man handed me the parcel. I faffed with packaging, hid the contents, lay back down again, then Phil returned, rousing me again. In the evening, we drank wine moderately, watched films and the first episode of the big new Prime release. We spent the first half hour of Wheel of Time laughing at hammy acting but it was suitable viewing after a few glasses.

Keir came on BBC Breakfast to complain the betrayal of the north proved ‘levelling up’ was just words. Re-announcing NPR 60 times, everything was a mess under this government. Holyrood was to crack down on mask-wearing while a plethora of measures continued to be implemented across Europe. Over 65,000 covid cases reported in a day, Germany banned communal working for those without antibodies and Belgians had to work at home 4 days a week. Upper Austria and Salzburg imposed lockdowns, followed Monday by the whole country for 20 days. Vaccinations would be compulsory from February. Chancellor Schallenberg called it ‘very painful’. Doctors welcomed the move. A demo against proposed mandatory vaccines and a ban on New Year fireworks turned into a riot in Rotterdam. Protestors threw rocks and fireworks and set cop cars on fire. Seven were injured including at least 2 shot by police. The Czechia and Slovakia locked down the unvaccinated. National news asked: was the UK on a different track? 1:65 infected, the trend was down on the previous week. Lukashenko admitted troops were helping migrants to the Polish border and refused to stop the flow. He didn’t give a shit! New culture sec Nads Doris said social media was hijacked by left-wing snowflakes.

I’d hoped to be better by the weekend but alas, I not much. After a mediocre night, I failed to lie in Saturday. Really bright again, the first frost of the season amplified brilliant sunlight. I went down for brekkie then returned to bed and worked on the laptop until head fug set in.

Breakfast a palaver Sunday, I got stressed, and a series of niggles led to harsh words and foul moods. When Phil asked if I wanted to go for a walk, I yelled “I’m not well!” and stomped off back to bed. Upset and fed up still being stuck indoors, I wanted to simultaneously cry and scream but forced myself to write. He came to make amends, apologised for rowing and managed to make me laugh. He then stood at the foot of the bed in distracting fashion. I told him to go out. I read the winter issue of Valley Life Magazine, took photos through the window of yellow trees across the valley, wrote a haiga using a photo of a late hawkweedⁱⁱ, and worked on the Christmas card. Bad feelings gradually waned but I was still depressed. Phil went in search of inspiration and came back with bargain mincemeat. The town centre was rammed of course, as I’d guessed from parked cars snaking up the road opposite. Loads of Christmas markets cancelled, I joked: “That’s because they’re all here!” Phil agreed: “It’s already like one out there!”

Boris caught mask-less on trains again, Mick Lynch of RMT said he sent ‘all the wrong signals’. Riots in Brussels, Vienna and across Holland led to injuries, 3 bullet wounds and 51 arrests in Rotterdam. WHO worried about the situation in Europe. Prof Pollard told Marr it was unlikely we’d see the same sharp rise as UK rates had been climbing since summer and boosters would reduce transmission. But as people in poorer countries still weren’t vaccinated, it remained a ‘major global public health problem’. Goblin Saj spouted a load of numbers, including claims protection increased from 50-90% with boosters; the key to us not going the way of Europe. Extended to 40-49 year olds in the coming week, I still didn’t have my invite. Maros Sefcovic said the EU was trying to help curb spiralling infections by encouraging vaccine take-up and thought hesitancy was caused by problems at the start of year, followed by a better picture in summer, leading to a sense of complacency. On Brexit, he felt some progress was made but not on process. While implying urgency, Lord Frosty made no counter-proposals to the ones from the EU in June.

Tesla drivers were locked out of their own cars and as the wheels came off Manchester United, Phil laughed at yet another heavy defeat. A sacked Ole Gunnar Solskjaer gave the ‘we’ve let ourselves down’ speech.

* IRP – Integrated Rail Plan

Reference:

i. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/

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

Part 72 – Get A Grip

“Ministers mix messages, change approach and water down proposals when the public and businesses need clarity and certainty” (Justin Madders)

#Freedumbday

The heatwave continued. Determined not to be rushed Monday morning, I took my time even as Phil took the breakfast tray away but with washing and rubbish to take down, wished he hadn’t disappeared. Internet issues persisted the whole week and beyond. I managed to post blogs working round the signal drops. Phil checked all our telecoms equipment before ringing Talk-Talk again. On repeating they’d monitor it, I exclaimed: “They said that on Saturday. They’ll say anything to not fix it!” “Yep. That’s what they do.” Taking recycling out, elderly Neighbour came up to chat. Finding it hard to follow her stream of consciousness, I nodded politely. In the co-op later, the aisles were now both salad-free and markings-free. Face-coverings optional, I wore one.

Unlike some on ‘Freedom Day’ or #Freedumbday. Clubbers queued from midnight. Heaven looked like hell on a video posted by party-loving journo Benjamin Button. Alarm bells sounding, The Bumbler warned proof of 2 jabs may be required for entry to crowded indoor spaces from September. Scotland cautiously moved to Level 0. Social distancing was reduced to 1 metre but nightclubs wouldn’t open, bars had to shut at midnight, only 15 people could mix outdoors, masks stayed mandatory and the order to work from home continued. JCVI said there’d be no mass vaccination of kids as the benefits didn’t outweigh the risks of myocarditis. Pfizer would be offered to immunocompromised 12-15 year olds (or those living with vulnerable people) ‘as soon as possible’.

A long-overdue Ocado order impossible on the crap internet, we searched town Tuesday afternoon for salad items. The convenience store surprisingly had some, but no cucumber. Would we ever see it again? As a queue outside the sweet shop died down, I hovered until deeming it safe to buy pop. We refreshed on a shady riverside bench. Ducks sheltering from the boiling sun resembled rocks until they scarpered from the heron. On the way home, we waved to The Biker outside the corner pub and noted BT engineers fiddling with telegraph wires on the street below, hoping they were fixing the internet. “How come nobody else ever reports problems?“ I asked Phil. “God knows. I went door-knocking once and no one knew what I was on about. One neighbour even asked was it the same as the telly?!” Unfortunately the problem persisted so whatever they did hadn’t done the trick. I’d forgotten to get exterior primer from the hardware store but Phil said melamine primer I found in the cupboard would work. The ancient stuff dried almost on contact with the repaired planter. Grubby and sweaty, we freshened up with bedtime baths but they didn’t help with sleep in the sweltering heat.

Cases rising nationally 40% week-on-week, the average in Yorkshire was 60%. Daily cases reached 46,558 and deaths 96. A million school pupils were absent in the last week, the highest since March. ALW’s Cinderella show was cancelled when a staff member got covid and the rest had to self-isolate. Inevitable whingeing ensued, even though it negated his arguments. I’d shut up if I was him. Business minister Paul Scuzz-ball said it was up to individuals and employers whether to isolate if pinged. Downing Street scrambled out a message it was ‘crucial’ to do so. Shadow health minister Justin Madders accused the government of making it up as they went along, saying we were in the realms of ‘dangerous farce’. Some exemptions granted for ‘essential workers’, criteria were unclear.

Laura K, interviewed The Scumbag who declared his mission to bring down the government and claimed he stopped Boris going to see the queen in case he killed her. Unbelievably, he admitted he wasn’t sure if Brexit was a good idea! 400 yesterday brought the total of migrants crossing the Channel since January to 8,000, almost as many as the whole of 2020.

Hours after Nasty Patel bribed Paris to increase patrols, Mini Macron no doubt had a good laugh as a French navy gunboat forced a dinghy into UK waters. She told the home affairs committee the agreement wasn’t meaningless and border policy failure wasn’t responsible for letting in the Delta variant.

Newsnight mentioned a suggested extra 1% on National Insurance to fund social care. Ministers maintained it was unpopular but many people thought it sensible. Maybe Boris and Rishi believed it would go against them in the next election or was it yet another example of pandering to backbenchers? Jeff Bezos outdid Branston in the billionaire space race. New Shepard rocket went up 66 miles. Unimpressed with him thanking Amazon staff and customers who got him to the edge of space, critics screamed ‘pay your bloody taxes!’

Fail, And Fail Again

On a humid Wednesday, we took another rail trip – to Brighouse. Market day created lunchtime bustle. Phil got fish and chips from Blakely’s while I found seats on attractive new decking overlooking the Calder & Hebble Navigation. Facing towards sun so he’d spot me, I planned to move round when a pair of elderly women plonked themselves behind us; their coughing and their dog’s begging slightly spoiling the treat. We shifted to a further bench under cover of trees to gaze on water and pick herbs from incredible edible boxes. Further exploration of the shopping area revealed old buildings, squares and mainly independent shops selling everything you could need. We chatted to a lovely old man about architecture, craftsmanship and people not appreciating what was on their doorstep before buying elusive items including hammarite paint, cucumber and pasties for an easy tea. We walked to the beautiful canal basin, drank pop and strolled round. Industrial-looking craft from two years ago were replaced by trip barges, cabin cruisers, twee houseboats and what appeared to be a submarine conversion. After-school teenagers congregated at the dangerous confluence of the canal and river. Almost crawling back up to the station, it was 20 minutes ‘til the next train. We retreated to the shade of the old co-op building where Phil espied an engraving of a skep above the door, recalling pictures from the Pioneer’s Museum. Back home, I took food to the kitchen. Phil searched his bag and cried: “where are the pies?” “Don’t panic! I’ve got the pies, you’ve got the paint.” (For a fuller description, see Cool Places 2ⁱ)

As I collapsed on the sofa, Phil plugged the router straight into the socket without the extension. The internet signal seemed to improve, then failed again. He picked up the phone to Talk-Talk, but feeling hot and bothered, realised he’d lose his grip so left it until morning. We managed to watch Netflix by pausing when the red light came on the router (approximately every 20 minutes) and re-starting.

The retail and haulier sectors again warned the pingdemic meant empty shelves. British Meat Processors Association CE Nick Allen said food supply chains were ‘starting to fail’ and criticised minister’s ‘confusing messages’. At PMQs, Keir mocked the latest government slogan ‘Keep Life Moving’ and suggested it be replaced with ‘Get A Grip’. He went onto accuse a virtual Boris of superspreading confusion on the rules then immediately isolated himself after his sprog tested positive for coronavirus, although he’d tested negative. The NHS pay review body recommended a 3% rise. Minister Helen Waffle failing to tell the commons, the government later said they’d pay it to most staff. As the EU refused to renegotiate the Northern Ireland protocol, Lord Frost complained ‘we can’t go like this’. So what now, you idiot? Liverpool lost its UNESCO World Heritage Status. City councillors were surprised but no-one else was. We thought Brighouse had a better claim. Severe floods in China left 25 dead including 12 trapped in tube trains.

After another uncomfortable and fractious night, I felt wobbly and unable to focus my eyes Thursday morning. I forced myself to perform a few stretches which must have got some endorphins going because my mood improved. I took my time over the morning cuppa, even as Phil made to take the tray away, and asked for help with the washing. I went to the market, finding fish and a few veg but no toiletries again. German Friend dawdled up the steps ahead of me on the way back. As I caught up, I joked “is it hot enough for you?” We strolled to her front door where I gave her tips on fixing her bench. Phil had been on the phone to Talk-Talk. After a rant, they promised to send engineers the next day – pointless but maybe they’d establish the issue wasn’t in the house. Later, I saw discussion on a local Facebook group confirming the intermittent service affected the whole town. I proclaimed Talk-Talk lying bastards’ Phil’s anger resurfaced. “I thought it would reassure you that you weren’t going mad.” “Can I have that in writing?” “Yes, I’ll make you a certificate!” But I agreed it was frustrating that people posted on comment pages rather than reporting the problem. During a spell outside, Phil continued with his tiny work while I applied waterproof paint to the planters. Having located a website on exciting days out on the Calder & Hebble navigation, I asked him where next? Just then, the hippy who lived on a barge emerged from next door. I told him of our excursion to Brighouse on which he shared interesting snippets, and picked his brains on other waterway locations worth visiting. Early evening, rain started to fall. Initially light, it soon turned into a deluge. BBC 4 showed decent films so we didn’t have to endure interrupted streaming for our evening’s viewing. Eyes shutting while reading, I dropped off quickly only to wake in the early hours.

Reports that 9 out of 10 people had coronavirus antibodies but weren’t all immune, did not compute. 618,903 pinged by TIT in the previous week, 1.77m self-isolated. Jeremy C**t again called for government to bring forward rule changes or they’d lose “social consent for this very, very important weapon against the virus.” The BMA maintained that more pings indicated very high infection rates and deleting the app was like disabling the fire alarm. Ravi Gupta of Nervtag said the ‘mixed bag of measures’ created ‘confusion and havoc’ by making individuals isolate when large crowds attended sporting events. Kwasi Kwarteng promised a longer list of exempt sectors soon and urged firms to stick to the rules but food distribution company Bidfood told staff to take tests and carry on working while Iceland advised customers not to panic over food shortages (it should be ministers panicking). Tobias Ellwood wanted Cobra to enlist the army.

The Boardman report on Greensill, said Lex enjoyed an ‘extraordinarily privileged’ relationship with Camoron who could have been clearer but didn’t break current lobbying rules so ‘his actions were not unlawful’. Angela Rayner called it a classic whitewash. Dawn Butler had to leave the commons for naming Boris a liar – apparently not allowed even when blatantly true. Australia and NZ withdrew from the rugby world cup due to safety concerns. A day before the official start of Shonkyo 2020, the opening ceremony director was sacked. Kentaro Kobayashi made jokes about the holocaust when he was a comic. This followed creative chief Horishi Sasaki resigning in March after apologising for calling large lady Naomi Watanabe ‘Olympig’ and a composer quitting earlier in the week when it emerged he’d bullied schoolkids.

Yes, We Have No Tomatoes!

Friday morning, an exhausted Phil fell briefly back to sleep after brekkie. I drafted blog entries for Cool Places 2 but posting was impossible. ‘Bright Sparks’ engineers rang Phil saying they were on the way. Two men arrived in separate vans, blocking the road. Phil explained the problem didn’t affect just us. I chimed in with gen from social media, noted one of them wore a mask over his mouth but not his nose, and left them to it for the weekend shop. Still very little veg, signs on shelves promised supply issues would be resolved shortly. At the kiosk, I repeated what I wanted 3 times to a new staff member and she still got it wrong! On returning, the engineers departed. They’d replaced the router and all the wiring, thus eliminating any possibility of problems in the house. The internet worked for an hour before bombing. Barely keeping a grip, Phil again rang Talk-Talk who eventually said a BT van would come next Tuesday. “Not good enough!” I railed. I later noticed the red light didn’t come on the new router when the signal dropped. “They’ve fixed if then, ha, ha!” Phil went to the other shop and I asked him to look for salad stuff. He returned singing: “Yes, we have no tomatoes!” Watching old films on DVD, we managed not to drink too much wine and had quite an early night for a Friday.

Train services and petrol stations joined the list of services hit by the pingdemic. Useless George said exemptions for critical workers meant 10,000 could carry on working in food and other key industries. Dr. Chaand Nagpaul of BMA called it a “desperate and potentially unsafe policy that does not address the root problem…(exceptions) should only happen in the absolute rarest of cases and with rigorous infection control measures and assurances of safety.” 30 drownings in British waterways over the week included a mother and son in Loch Lomond, a 16 year old boxer in the River Dee at Chester, a young footballer in Salford Quays, and 6 men and boys in Yorkshire.

Suspecting the jolly veg man had cheated me, I weighed the mushrooms before cooking Saturday breakfast. The alleged half-pound came to 5.7 oz. Phil suggested they’d shrunk but if not, he should be put in the stocks for deceiving customers. Phil managed to do some uploading but I avoided the internet completely, writing and photo-editing. Brighouse shots lent themselves to monochrome and inspired the weekly haigaⁱⁱ. I also took a pile of recycling out, having to sort neighbours’ detritus. Phil popped to the co-op to find no beer as mask-less 30 somethings wandered the aisles.

A mere 20^oC on Sunday, I braved the market for knobbly veg and got quite a selection, including the last 4 tomatoes. Town packed, visitors cluttered the streets, queues snaked from charity shops, and kids and dogs paddled under the old bridge where a low dam had been constructed. Phil considering joining me, I rang to say don’t bother. On the way home, I saw The Poet and suggested he avoid the centre as it was full of bloody tourists. “Don’t worry, I’m going straight to the bus stop.” Noting the leafy stalks sticking out of my bag, he commented, “I can’t remember the last time I ate celery.”

Wanting to finish painting the planters, I noticed gaps in the bottom allowing soil to escape. I sawed a small piece of wood to size and hammered it on. Phil looked impressed as he watched. “I can do things, you know!” Decorating Neighbour came to see what the noise was and shared notes on the trials of painting, overhanging bushes messing his car up, and parking disputes. Phil found another small bit of wood to finish the bodge. I applied primer to the additions and paint to a plastic planter that now housed a rose.

Look North featured a local family we knew. The now very tall 11 year old son started walking to Westminster for the Zero Carbon petition, accompanied by parents in a campervan. At 10 miles per day it would take him 3 weeks.

No data on deaths released for a second day running due to tech issues, Goblin Saj tweeted ‘don’t cower from the virus’. Covid Bereaved Families for Justice incensed at the insensitivity, The Goblin deleted the tweet and apologised for a ‘poor choice of words’. What a cock! PAC reported dealing with the pandemic cost £370bn so far. £10bn wasted on PPE ‘not fit for purpose’, £6.7m per week was still being spent on storage. Phil came up with a solution: “Burn it!” At a rally in Trafalgar Square Saturday, covid-denier Kate Shemerani likened NHS staff to Nazis. The ex-nurse had been struck off for dangerous views on vaccines, social distancing and PPE. PHE said vaccines prevented at least 52.600 deaths (later revised to 60,000).

Mr. Ben claimed the Latitude festival was the safest place on the planet. Revellers required to show proof of 2 jabs or a negative test result, we wondered why on earth that couldn’t be the case all round. Public opinion increasingly in favour of Covid Passes, The Bumbler shied away from them and instead urged common sense. How was it ‘common sense’ to allow hundreds of people to cram into discos, possibly infecting each other, rather than proving they didn’t have the disease? Answer: Boris didn’t want to upset so-called libertarian backbenchers and in doing so, mis-read the public mood.

Unable to settle, the meditation soundtrack enabled a few hours’ sleep. Musings of a possible birthday trip in September led to dreaming of a train journey to the seaside. I stared out the window at a dark and rainy scene while Phil concentrated on his phone. Elder Sis and Youngest Brother materialised. He pressed a guide book on me as we alighted intoning: “You’ll need this.” Out on the road, other people surrounded us. Striving to outpace them, I lost sight of Phil. I awoke wondering if it was a message. Dropping off again, I had a follow-up dream; too indistinct to get a grip on details.

References:

i. My Cool Places 2 blog: https://wordpress.com/posts/hepdenerose2.wordpress.com

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

Part 68 – Smash and Grab

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smashing It

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grab a Snog

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

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

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

Grab a Jab

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

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

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

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

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

Reference:

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

Part 67 – North/South Divide

“The question is, why are we in this position? The NHS has done a fantastic job on vaccines but why has there been such a poor investment in public health infection control to suppress these outbreaks?” (Anthony Costello)

Gammonise!

Overnight rain led to cloudy skies and a cooler Monday. Media again banged on about the hottest day of the year. Yeah, in London where it was scorchio! Would it be yet another summer of the north/south divide? Both struggling with lack of sleep, we had a laugh at what Phil called his in-between glasses. Unable to find them without them, it was a bit Count Arthur. A tedious round of chores preceded posting blogs and a trip to the co-op. The same pub mate stood in the kiosk queue ahead of me. I resisted the urge to say we should stop meeting like this. Actually getting dozy during my siesta, irksome noise disturbed my rest.

As expected, The Bumbler announced a 4-week postponement to stage 4 of the roadmap. All restrictions remained in place until 19^th July except for weddings and funerals, care residents no longer having to isolate after a trip out and further test events under ERP including footie at Wembley. In the pre-amble, he referred to ‘exponential growth’ in cases, 96% of which were the Delta variant. PHE reported vaccines up to 96% effective after 2 doses, weakening but not severing the link between infections and death. The virus could outrun the vaccine or we could give the NHS another few weeks to ‘get jabs in arms’. The government now aimed for over 40’s to get their first, and all vulnerable groups and frontline staff their second, by 4^th July and all adults fully immunised by 19^th July. Witless’ graphs depicted a 64% increase in infections within 7 days, a rise in the variant across the country, and hospital admissions up 50% per week (61% in the North West). No news on financial support, a furious Anthony Costello of UCL railed: “The question is, why are we in this position?” and criticised a lack of investment in public health infection control: “Patrick Vallance got it right in February when he said that as the numbers come down it is essential that we do find, test, trace and isolate. And our failure to do that 3 times in the past has led to 3 national lockdowns and 150,000 deaths.” Jon Ashworth said Boris’ complacency led to the mutant ‘washing up on or shores’. Lindsay Hoyle lambasted ministers for not telling MPs of the delay before the public address. Sociopaths Fox and Corbyn went on a mask-less protest to Downing Street. A mob chased Newsnight’s Nick Watt, shouting ‘traitor!’ Martin Hockridge was subsequently charged with harassment.

Brighter on Tuesday, Phil spotted the window cleaner through the kitchen window as we started lunch. We raced round shutting windows and making butties to be interrupted by a knock on the door for payment. So much for an early outing in the sunshine! When we eventually got out, we did the rounds of the charity shops. Perusing a photo equipment cabinet in the first, a digital polaroid camera I’d spotted weeks ago remained unsold – the archaic memory card required likely why. I left Phil cogitating to go onto the next shop and joined him at the third to acquire 3 books and laugh at dog ice cream. Also now selling sweets, I joked, “are they dog sweets?”

Ample space at the Med Café allowed us to people-watch as we imbibed refreshing pop. A busker played ‘Calder Delta Blues’. Tourists ambled up and down the pedestrian street. A family group gawped into an overpriced tat shop with delight. Bemused at anyone expressing enthusiasm for their wares, maybe they didn’t get out much. One of them had the pastiest legs I’d ever seen which would explain it! On leaving, a bald man with a red face ran up to greet us “You look like tourists.” “What’s to do on a hot afternoon but bimble about?“ He whinged he’d been under a van all day and was desperate to get out; I guessed for beer. “Who was that?” I asked Phil. “Bloke from the pub years ago. He wasn’t a gammon then. He was thin and had dreadlocks.” Unable to imagine a younger version, Phil continued: “That’s the problem nowadays. Everyone’s got middle aged and turned into gammons.” “We haven’t!” I came up with the ditty: ‘It’s time to Gammonise’ (to the tune of the Chemical Brothers’ Galvanise). Back home, I attempted photos of large ferns in pots outside 3 adjoining houses. Unable to get a wide enough shot, I settled for one of ours. A couple on Pointless were named Phil and Mary. “They’re a gammon version of us. That’s why we haven’t turned; they’ve done it for us!”

Due to accelerated vaccinations, The Glove-puppet said something ‘unprecedented and remarkable’ needed to happen to push the date for ‘Freedom Day’ back again. Simon Stevens said all over 18’s should be able to book one by the end of the week and that neutralising monoclonal antibodies would enable covid patients to be sent home with pills in future. Aberdeen University came up with a technique to detect antibodies for all variants with 98% accuracy. Were there plans to roll it out? In response to labour’s criticism of lax borders, sage bod Prof. Medley said the Delta variant was found around the globe and would have ended up here sooner or later anyway. Causing different symptoms including a headache, sneezing, sore throat and runny nose, how would I distinguish it from the chronic sinus lark?

A trade deal agreed between Boris and Aussie PM Scott Morrison would make it cheaper to export British cars, whisky and sweets, and their wine, swimwear and confections cheaper for us. Bring on the Tim Tam. A cap on tariff-free imports for 15 years, the ‘strongest possible’ animal welfare standards and other ‘safeguards’ to protect British farmers were promised. Britons under 35 could travel and work in Australia. The One Show tried to explain non-fungible tokens. I was left nonplussed about block chains.

Right to Roam?

Wednesday, I spent the morning on laundry, cleaning and writing. PMQs about to start, the Ocado delivery arrived. I left most of it in quarantine and sat back down as Keir asked about financial support. Furlough and business rates to be phased out from the end of month, why were they not extended in England like in Wales? Boris replied he was proud of what they’d done. Keir retorted, it wasn’t about what they’d done but what were they going to do? Later, Steve Barclay announced an extension to the commercial eviction ban, costing the government nothing! Harking back to the start of the crisis, Keir reminded us in March, Boris said they’d turn the tide in 12 weeks, then by Christmas, then by 21^st June which he dubbed ‘Freedom Day’. The public didn’t expect miracles but integrity and honesty. 5 years since Jo Cox was murdered, Ian Blackford paid tribute. He observed that details of the ‘disastrous’ trade deal with Australia were ‘seeping out’. In his desperation to get a deal without scrutiny or consultation, the PM had “thrown Scottish famers and crofters under the Brexit bus,” along with fishers. Boris responded there was no reason why farmers couldn’t take advantage of the opportunities. How were small crofts supposed to compete with ranches the size of a country?

The Scumbag’s latest blog emerged a half hour before, claiming The Bumbler told ‘rambling stories and jokes’ when chairing crucial meetings. An official spokesman spluttered: “that’s not true. The PM works with the whole Cabinet very effectively.” ‘Evidence’ of his previous allegations took the form of WhatsApp screenshots in which Boris called The Cock ‘effing hopeless’ (on testing, PPE and ventilator procurement). Planning to offload responsibilities to The Glove-puppet, Scum replied the cabinet office was a ‘shit show’. Number 10 didn’t deny the messages’ authenticity but insisted the PM had full confidence in The Cock. Accused of re-writing history, Jon Ashworth coined the moniker ‘Hopeless Handcock’. Jesse Norman insisted Boris was ‘firmly behind’ the health secretary. Rees-Moggy referred to him as a ‘successful genius’ and blathered about ‘lapidary inscriptions’. What are you on about, you posh knob?!

We set off in mid-afternoon sun on another stone mystery quest. Trees provided welcome shade slogging up the steep road until we reached the path down into woodland. Signs of strangeness included beeches planted concentrically and a possible stone altar. Imagining druids dancing round as they sacrificed virgins, I almost asked the half-naked hippy nearby if he knew anything. In the clough, we sat near the brook, admired greenery and tiny flowers, and listened to the constant water flow and occasional birdsong. Rather than our usual route, Phil suggested we follow yellow arrows going back. Initially good, the path led to stepping stones crossing the bottom of the brook. On the other side, more weird stones resembled pyramids and effigies. Then the path became trickier. We slipped on our arses and got filthy. Scared and panicky, I bit the bullet to take another deliberate slide. Eventually, a gravel path led to a bridge near the canal-side pub. Too dirty and exhausted to consider a pint, we hurried homewards. We felt like we’d been on an expedition! I was glad I’d worn jeans and proper shoes rather than shorts and sandals. I stripped off grimy layers and donned a sarong before slumping on the sofa to watch Wales beat Turkey in the Euros. At bedtime I soaked in a fluffy bath and tried to ignore an odd pain in an odd place caused by the fall. The meditation tape aided some sleep.

Pfizer and Moderna supply issues jeopardised plans to inoculate younger people. Uptake particularly low in London, vaccines would be mandatory for elderly care workers. Unions said the ‘sledgehammer approach’ failed to address pay and conditions, and would lead to staff resignations and recruitment issues. GMB predicted a third leaving their jobs and Unison wanted encouragement rather than coercion. Vic Rayner of NCF told BBC Breakfast that saying refuseniks should be redeployed was “really challenging for a sector that’s largely made up of small employers…This is potentially about people no longer being able to work.” A consultation on whether NHS staff should be next was due. The ONS reported inflation up in May, citing fuel and clothes. What about drinking and eating out?

Muggy on Thursday, Phil seemed surprised I performed exercises after the previous day’s trek – I did so every day unless debilitated. Mind you, the humidity made me sweaty and fatigued when cleaning the bedroom.

In response to feedback on my last article, Valley Life added a ‘correction’ to my page for the upcoming summer issue. Uneasy that it said picnics were ‘prohibited’ on the private land, Phil agreed there were no signs to that effect; only (understandably) barbecues. I googled by-laws for rights of way, but found nothing to forbid stopping to eat a pie. I spoke to the magazine’s owner to collaborate on re-wording and hoped that concluded the matter. She then asked my advice on an advertising conundrum. Not my area, but maybe I should have blagged it and asked for a consultation fee! Phil went to Leeds, I went to the market to find no toiletries again.

After lunch, I called the local volunteer co-ordinator. The accompanied walks centred on sheltered accommodation in the next village. A 40 minute hike each way would deplete my energy for the walk itself. Currently no budget for bus fares, she promised to look into it and went onto ask if I might ‘buddy up’ for weekly calls to an isolated person. This sounded less tiring but I later suspected I’d be out of pocket on the phone bill. A flurry of weekend e-mails intimated she was leaving her role and I’d been added to the mailing list of volunteers before confirming what I could offer. I started to regret my initial enthusiasm.

A Facebook post informed me that a woman who’d pioneered tree-planting initiatives in the valley had died. She’d be sadly missed but left a tangible legacy. Phil returned from Leeds at the exact moment I’d finished cooking dinner. He’d visited the hipster bar who not only didn’t want any new photos yet, they wanted him to take old ones off the walls that he’d forgotten about.

The highest daily rise since 19^th Feb saw 11,007 new cases. PHE’s weekly surveillance report showed growth in all regions and all age groups, with the largest in 20-29 year olds. Susan Hopkins said the R rate would be 7 for the Delta variant if it wasn’t for vaccines. The UK the only European country where rates went up even though we’d vaccinated the most people (80% of adults now had 1 dose and 58% had 2), the EU added several countries to the safe travel list, but not Britain. Following reports that government planned to make working from home the default position, business leaders said there was no need for their intervention and unions warned it risked a 2-tier system with those unable to work from home denied flexibility which Frances O’Grady said should be a ‘right’. A spike in Cornwall saw blame fall on the recent G7 and half-term. hospitalisations and deaths stayed low but cafés shut as staff isolated. The Lib Dems won the Chesham and Amersham by-election. Tory since the constituency’s creation in 1974, they lost a 16,233 majority. Ed Davey said the tories concentrated on the north while the southern blue wall was under threat. The government denied any such north/south divide. Labour came last with a pathetic 1.6% of the votes. No mention of the contest in the news until the results came in, was it another example of media bias?

Access All Areas?

The exact moment I went to hang sheets outside Friday morning, a white van pulled up in front of our door. The driver emerged from delivering to a house up the steps opposite, apologised and said he’d be gone soon. Fine, I thought, but why park here, blocking my access and having to walk further yourself? In the co-op, the card reader wasn’t working. As I handed notes over, the cashier observed “Thank goodness they haven’t got rid of cash yet.” “I know. They keep threatening to, don’t they?” Saying he was starving before I went shopping, Phil didn’t make a move until lunch was ready – again! “It’s a knack!” he smirked. I posted a Cool Places blog on the recent canal-side adventuresⁱ. Our Walking Friend predicted we wouldn’t tread the barely-accessible path again. I replied we might, to further investigate the stones. At least we’d know what to expect next time. Already dry thanks to a nice breeze, I brought the sheets in just before a rain shower descended. The woman next door kept the gardener company. Enquiring on her health, she said she’d felt at a low ebb earlier but a hill walk helped lift her spirits. Telling me she originated from Poland, we shared stories and verged on subjects some might consider no-go areas.

A 79% rise in Delta cases within a week, hospitalisations almost doubled to 806. As all over 18’s in England could have a jab, Stephen Powis reiterated it was a race with the virus and the vaccine programme would be the way to win. He expected a peak July-August but Witless said there’d be an autumn surge and Susan Hopkins predicted one in winter – make your minds up! In the Euros, the England – Scotland game ended in a nail-biting 0-0 draw. England performed as if something was amiss, especially a lacklustre Harry Kane. Was it the pressure of playing a derby? Was he ill? Was it Covid?

Cock-a-hoop at still being in the running, some Scottish fans who’d travelled north to south without tickets, left a trail of blood and broken glass on the streets of London in their wake. No doubt thanks to the £3.4m worth of beer they drank. Licensees allowing chants and sing-songs faced £1,000 fines. Wembley set to admit 40,000 spectators in the knock-out rounds, UEFA didn’t rule out moving the final games unless quarantine regulations were lifted for fans and VIPs. A ‘bubble to bubble’ concept as applied to the media was muted, entailing travel only between the airport, hotel and stadium, and back home within 24 hours.

Overwhelmed by a pile of unwashed pots Saturday morning, Phil thankfully came to my aid. After a morning on the phone to Overwhelmed by a pile of unwashed pots Saturday morning, Phil thankfully came to my aid. After a morning on the phone to the disgruntled landowner, the Valley Life proprietor rang me. She’d re-done the correction and e-mailed the revised page for my perusal. On saying I tried to keep weekends separate, she apologised and said it could wait as it wasn’t due at the printers ‘til Monday. Skimming the proof, the word ‘prohibited’ still rankled. I debated the legal definition with Phil who agreed they couldn’t prosecute you for sitting down, but I conceded it would be best to let it go to keep the peace. There was a debate to be had on rights of way and the wider right to roam, but this wasn’t the place. I draft-posted the journal, took recycling out and got rid of more creeping buttercup in the garden. Stepping-stones emerged easing access to the top part. I’d forgotten it was even there. On her way out, the woman next door asked “How are you today?” I mulled over why we shared such personal stuff but it was nice being neighbours who always asked after each other.

Phil went to town in search of weekend treats. Ridiculously heaving, there were even queues outside charity shops! He came to sit with me as I cleared debris, enjoying the sun and wafting breeze until hungry. Feeling sleepy, I went to the co-op for an item Phil forgot, to get another blast of reviving air. Evening film viewing was interrupted by people on the street below playing guitar and singing loudly. Falling silent awhile, they began drunkenly talking and laughing as I headed to bed. I put earplugs in, they quietened, I started to settle, then the racket returned at 2.30. Livid, I banged on the window. That shut them up! Nevertheless, it took ages to drop off; the disturbance compounding the usual reasons for insomnia.

To make matters worse, the Valley Life conundrum circled round my head first thing Sunday. Tired and emotional, I hangrily devoured banana and soya which helped a bit. After bathing, I slumped back on the bed complaining of exhaustion. “Baths are meant to be refreshing,” Phil told me. “It’s not that, it’s the sleeplessness and the interrupted weekend.” He advised me not to be angry. Easy to say, hard to do. I thought dealing with the magazine issue might help, messaged the owner so she could go ahead with printing and suggested we talk more before I ‘upset any more grumpy farmers!’ She replied I hadn’t upset anyone and kindly offered to take me out for coffee and a natter. I pottered about and wrote a haigaⁱⁱ. The weird carved stones we’d discovered on Wednesday’s walk provided perfect material for the upcoming summer solstice. We also watched Wales lose to Italy but it didn’t matter as they qualified for the last 16 anyway. Calmer but still knackered, I had a slightly better night.

Infection rates still highest in the North West, walk-in centres popped up in Cumbria and South London. Young people queued for vaccines and social media encouraged uptake. Nick Robinsons stood in for Andrew Marr (on holiday or ill?) Susan Hopkins advised sticking to current restriction levels, which most of us ‘could live with’. Although she’d predicted a winter surge, she assured us vaccines, drugs and testing might prevent a 4^th lockdown. Pat Valance was made National Tech Adviser of the new National Science & technology Council, to investigate whether the success of vaccine procurement could be replicated in other areas, and head of a new Office for Science &Technology Strategy. How many new councils and offices did he need?

References:

i. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/

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

The Corvus Diaries

A Journal of the Coronavirus

PPE