“Boris Johnson has been allowed to hand out gongs to his partygate pals and Rishi Sunak has just waved it through” (Daisy Cooper)
Jingle and Mingle Invite
Late May 2023, Cabinet Office (CO) found entries in Boris’ ministerial diary showing family and friends met at Chequers June 2020-May 2021. A clear breach of lockdown rules, they handed it to Thames Valley police. Livid that material was given to cops, The Bumbler called it ‘bizarre’ and appointed new lawyers to represent him at the covid inquiry. The inquiry requested his WhatsApp messages unredacted. CO argued they were irrelevant but Baroness Halibut said non-compliance was a criminal offence. CO then claimed to not have all the notebooks, diaries and messages in question. Boris insisted they did. Was he dobbing on Rishi Rich or was Rishi being protected over ‘eat out to die out’ or his own flouting of lockdown rules? The deadline for submission of documents or witness statements from senior officials explaining why not extended to 4.00 p.m. 1st June, the CO sent the inquiry a letter instead saying they were bringing a judicial review. It then transpired there were no messages predating May 2021, when, it turned out, it was discovered Boris’ phone number had been public for 15 years so he got a new one. Labour suspecting a coverup, Number 10 denied it. Boris then said he’d provide unedited messages direct to the inquiry and asked CO to help access those from his old phone. CO lawyers subsequently warned he risked losing publicly-funded legal advice for ‘knowingly’ frustrating or undermining the government position. Why were taxpayers forking out for it in the first place? Doing the media rounds, a faceless tory minister said WhatsApp was private, not official (so don’t use it to set up meetings!) and ex-lawyer Robert Jerk claimed it wasn’t ‘common practice’ for an inquiry rather than government to decide what was relevant. Since when?
On an annual stateside visit to keep his green card, Rishi went to Washington early June to suck up to Uncle Joe and be mistakenly dubbed Mr President. Discussing co-operation but not free trade, Andrew Neil informed Newscast the so-called Atlantic Deal was designed to stop China beating the west on tech – according to the Yanks, the UK was the only European country that could do so. Rishi’s jaunt meant missing a fourth PMQs. Rayner quizzed Dowdy on the covid inquiry, which he said they’d furnished with all the resources to ‘learn the lessons’. She retorted working people wouldn’t thank them for spending hundreds of thousands on ‘loophole lawyers’. Boris’ long-awaited honours list was published the next day. Amongst other pals, it made Nasty Patel a dame, Rees-Moggy a knight, Shaun Bailey, Simon Clarke and Jack Doyle peers, gave Dan Rosenfield a CBE, Ben Mallett an OBE and Martin Reynolds – who sent invites to the notorious lockdown number 10 garden party – Order of the Bath. More evidence later emerged of 30 of Shaun Bailey’s mayoral campaign aides invited to ‘jingle and mingle’ at tory HQ 14th December 2020. Ben Mallet said he didn’t send the invite but was captured on video falling onto the lavish party buffeti.
Not on the list, Dreadful Doris resigned as an MP in a fit of pique then changed her mind. Rayner was incandescent at rewards doled out to those who broke covid rules and ‘toady’ Rishi granting “prizes to this carousel of cronies.” Daisy Cooper agreed. It was later suggested HOLAC* blocked peerages for Doris and Nigel Adams, and Rishi claimed The Bumbler bade he overrule them. Warned it could mean more by-elections, Rishi reportedly said ‘so be it’. Boris called it all rubbish. Then Nigel resigned from his Selby and Ainsty seat. Not technically possible for an MP to resign, we wondered what the hell was going on!ii
A letter from The Privileges Committee saying he misled parliament and recommending a lengthy suspension, late Friday 9th June, Boris resigned with immediate effect (for now). In a verbose statement, he railed at a ‘kangaroo court’ and a ‘witch hunt’ to drive him out over Brexit. Most members tories, a flummoxed Chair Harman blasted back he “impugned the integrity of The House.” Silly Bob still wished he was PM while from a ‘beautiful’ Ashton (according to Charlie Stayt), Rayner named him a coward for not staying to face the consequences or contest the findings before publication – delayed in light of Boris’ rebuttal, amounting to contempt of parliament. Asked if labour would abolish The Lords, she cited Gordon Brown’s report advocating reform. A ‘disgusted’ public not accepting the current situation, an elected second chamber would be in their election manifesto. Lord Dracula Howard laughably told Laura K. Boris ‘unquestionably’ did good things and Shatts maintained he was a man of many qualities but people wanting to ‘move on’ from the drama, there was no chance of his return.
Inundated with threatening messages from Boris’ supporters, committee members were offered additional security. The damning report was released at 9.00 a.m. Thursday 15th. Written evidence revealing an ‘oasis of normality’ in Downing Street, they concluded Boris was guilty of deliberately misleading The House and The Committee, breaching confidence, impugning The Committee thus undermining the democratic process, and complicit in a campaign of abuse and attempted intimidation of members. If Boris hadn’t resigned, they’d have recommended an unprecedented 90 day’s suspensioniii.
Griping that Harman and Bernard Jerkin (under investigation for attending his wife’s birthday party during tier 2 restrictions) had ‘prejudicial views’, Boris said the findings were ‘deranged’ and ‘the final knife-thrust in a protracted political assassination’. Rayner likened his rant to a ‘Pound Shop Trump’ and Bereaved Families said Boris should be banned from ever standing for public office again. But Dreadful Doris wanted tories who voted to accept the recommendations to be booted out and David TC Davies questioned how he could be found guilty of events The Met didn’t prosecute. Err, Lying to parliament was a different thing, you moron! Boris then asked supporters not to vote against the report because the world needed to move on, as he’d moved onto a weekly Daily Gammon column. When it came to it, only 7 MPs voted no. 225 abstained and some didn’t even turn up including an apparently ‘too busy’ spineless Rishi.
Update:
29th June, a follow-up Privileges Committee report accused seven Boris allies (Dreadful Doris, Rees-Moggy, Nasty Patel, Mark Jenkinson, Michael Fabricant, Brendan Clarke-Smith, Andrea Jenkyns, Zac Goldsmith, Lord Cruddas and Lord Greenhalgh) of a co-ordinated campaign to interfere with their work. Saying they had no right, they lambasted Dreadful Doris and Rees-Moggy for ‘vociferously’ airing warped views on their TV shows which had a significant impact on individuals, hence the need for increased security. Batting off journos, Rees-Moggy was off to church then the test match and urged they do likewise. Early next morning, Goldsmith resigned from government, allegedly due to apathy over environmental issues and nothing to do with being named in the report as Rishi Rich claimed. The first time I’d ever agreed with him, Ed Millipede maintained Zac’s resignation letter rang true.
4th July, The Met re-opened Partygate investigations, not into Boris’ shindigs at Number 10 or Chequers but the Jingle and Mingle bash and another on 8th December, attended by Bernard Jerkin according to Guido Fawkes.
“Northern Ireland is in the unbelievably special position…in having privileged access, not just to the UK home market, which is enormous…but also the European Union single market…Nobody else has that” (Rishi Sunak)
Cartoon by Matt
Leaked to the ‘leftie press’ i.e., The Observer, The Daily Mail railed a ‘secret summit’ in early February, was a ‘plot to unravel Brexit’. Entitled: ‘How can we make Brexit work better with our neighbours in Europe?’, attendees included ‘arch remainer’ Peter Mandelson, John Healy, David Lammy, old Thatcherites Norman Lamont and Michael Howard and, without Rishi’s knowledge, The Glove-Puppet, which Andrew Brexit on Jeremy Vine, considered mischievous. In light of OBR predictions of a 4% reduction in GDP 15 years after the referendum, and John Haskel of the BOE monetary policy committee calculating a £29bn cost (£1,000 per household), the cross-party nature of the gathering implied acceptance of post-Brexit economic damage. A source told The Guardian ‘the main thrust’ was, with Britain losing out, Brexit not delivering and a weak economy, ‘moving on from leave and remain’, the issues faced, and how we could discuss changes to trade and cooperation with the EU.
On 27th, Ursula Von Hitler came to sign off a renegotiated Northern Ireland protocol with Rishi, and bizarrely have a cuppa with Kingy. The new Windsor Framework entailed a green express lane from Great Britain to NI and the same taxes, a role for the ECJ*, and Stormont putting the brakes on further changes – if the assembly ever reconvened. Noting an improvement in the UK-EU relationship, commentators believed it could presage closer cooperation in other areas.
Northern Ireland minister Steve Baker blubbered with emotion and Sinn Fein gushed with enthusiasm. Tory backbenchers and the DUP were more circumspect – the latter also outraged at the monarch’s involvement. Perhaps they could be bribed with fresh produce, as suggested in Matt’s cartoon.
Visiting the Lisburn Coca Cola factory the next day, Rishi unbelievably lauded Northern Ireland’s ‘special position’ of being able to trade freely with both the UK and EU. Alliance party leader Naomi Long tweeted: “’Nobody else has that.’ Well, you did, actually. Plus, the opt outs. But you binned it for Brexit. Go figure…” At PMQs, Stephen Flynn asked, if access to the EU market was so special, why couldn’t we all have it? Quite!
On 2nd March, a London conference audience were asked if they thought Brexit was a ‘good idea’. The Bumbler was fuddled by a lack of hand-showing. As the Windsor Framework left Northern Ireland under EU rules, Boris complained it was ‘not about taking back control’, thus he’d find it ‘very, very difficult’ to vote for but didn’t say he’d vote against it. Would it be deal or no deal?
Addendum: A 3-hour privileges committee partygate session on 22nd March, at which Boris in a new haircut was grilled (more later), was interrupted for voting on the ‘Stormont Brake’. Dramatic back-tracking by arch Brexiteers led to a government win with 515 ayes. The 29 nays included former PMs Boris and Trussed-Up. Perhaps they’d finally get the message!
“(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
Haiga – Advent
1st 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.
Man On Organ
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 23rd-31st 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 9th 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 21st & 28th December. Elsewhere, Unite members walked out from EMR for 2 days, and would again 23rd-24th 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
Haiga – Sub-Zero
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. 39th 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 2nd 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.
Stuck Orange
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
Haiga – Hope
Thursday 15th, 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 22nd, 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.
Knitted Nativity
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 30th 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
Haiga – Saturnalia
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 12th 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 5th 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.
“It has sometimes been observed that what leaders do for their people today is government and politics. But what they do for the people of tomorrow – that is statesmanship” (Queen Elizabeth II)
Pomp And Circumstance
Birthday Sunflowers
Phil started work at the convenience store on 1st September. I tackled chores and admin, ringing the GP surgery twice. 29th in the queue, I hung up to try again later to be 50 something in the queue! I didn’t have time for a third attempt before the booked pension advice call. The nice Moneywise man provided tons of info, giving me head fug. Going out for air, an acquaintance dumped garden waste. I bit my tongue, even though she was still doing it on my return. I got nothing on the rammed but sparse market but ordered smoked salmon from the fishmonger. Phil interrupted my writing in the evening, asking where AJs was (who delivered bacon butties to The Store staff). “No idea. Ask them!” A very early start Saturday, he got home knackered but with interesting facts about supplying local cafés and specialists sorting newspapers. How quaint! A fellow photographer mate who worked there years ago, wasn’t surprised to see him, but my old art teacher was. Well, he was a bit pompous.
After e-mailing siblings about my birthday fundraiser Monday, Elder Sis made a generously commensurate donation to mark my 60th and Big Sis donated a tirade on DEC corruption. I delayed replying to devise a diplomatic answer. As I hung washing, our old next-door neighbour and companion sat out, during a visit while the Polish woman visited her homeland. We shared tips on upcoming seaside trips and news of Phil’s job. She reckoned the boss was a bit of a B… Warm and sunny late afternoon, Phil asked if I wanted to go out. I snapped at another thoughtless interruption, he stomped off, but came back for an apology. Feeling uncomfortable, stuff to do and unable to think where we’d go at that time of day, I suggested sitting outside for vitamins. He squatted on the kerb chatting with old next-door neighbour. I joined in discussing health, languages, Europe and Brexit when The Widower came past. Next-door asked had he seen The Student? She then turned up with the rest of the tribe, having got back from Germany last week. “Zer gut!” The put-upon stepdad ferried stuff from the car. “Have you been camping?” “No, a cottage for a few days but we needed to take tons of stuff.” No idea why! Tuesday, workmen fixed the step at long last. Phil on the early shift again, in the afternoon, he rested and showered. “That’s better. I’ve got a week off, even though I’ve only been there a week.” “Yes but you weren’t supposed to be working till after our hols. Does it still feel weird going to actual work?” “Yes.” “It’s when it doesn’t feel weird you need to worry.” “Why?” “Cos you might give up other pursuits and think: ‘I’ll just work in the shop’.” “Like people in the pub?: ‘I used to be a photographer’.” “Exactly! It’s a slippery slope!” Starting Wednesday wobbly and itchy, I took medicines and persevered with housework. Phil amicably helped change bedding but unkindly mocked me tripping on the bedframe. I then slipped on a large letter on the doormat – more stupid pensions crap! Phil went secret shopping and I went to charity shops. Dumping books, I found nowt, but the community shop’s free school uniform rail was a good idea. In the evening, Phil insisted on toasting my birthday with fizz.
Birthday Card by Phil
Boris went to Suffolk to gush about £700 million for Sizewell C, 1 of 8 nuclear power plants, not yet agreed with EDF and not operational until the 2030’s. Blaming labour for lack of planning, he obviously forgot Gordy Brown signed off 10 new plants in 2009. As he also suggested we buy better kettles to save £10 a year, Rayner said he wasn’t living in the real world, evinced by him embarking on a farewell tour! On the new Laura K Sunday prog, having ditched her promise of no direct help, Trussed-Up (who I’d just discovered shared my first name in real life) said it was good that rich people benefitted more from tax cuts and she’d have the energy crisis sorted in a week.
Raucous applause from Joe Lycett, the Daily Mail were incensed at him mocking their incoming leader. He kept up the pretence on Jeremy Vine the next day. As Truss was crowned Queen of Gammons Monday, she said ‘deliver’ a lot, Nasty Patel resigned and Big Ben ominously stopped. A Cabinet from Hell included Swellen as home sec and Therese Coffee-Cup as health sec FFS! Jeremy Vine asked if the morbidly obese, cigar-smoking boozer was a good role model. Clearly not! Farage gin trended on twitter. At 7.30 a.m. Tuesday, The Bumbler orated on it being time to pass on the baton, likening it to a relay race when someone changed the rules halfway through. Look who’s talking! Invested at Balmoral Tuesday, Trussed-Up flew back to stand at a wet lectern and ape Churchill, saying she’d take action every day to encourage growth by cutting taxes, deal with gas prices and get us all GP appointments (if only!) In fact, nothing happened for a fortnight apart from a very boring PMQs.
Dutch scientists used data from the Cambridge University Covid-19 sounds app (ongoing for 2 years, I’d never heard of it), to develop one that could detect symptoms, possibly more reliably than LFTs. Bristol Zoo closed due to falling numbers during lockdowns. Tracy Dustbin announced the promised low West Yorkshire bus fares. Starting Sunday, the maximum single fare was £2 and a day fare £4.50. BBC breakfast highlighted the plight of those in sheltered housing not covered by the price cap and OVO energy founder Stephen Fitzpatrick published a 10-point plan including subsidies. Benefitting low income households, with less help for those who used more energy, he had some good ideasi. Unlike Edwina Currie, stupidly suggesting putting foil behind radiators. That’d do a lot of good seeing as we would hardly ever have the heating on; how about tapestries? The Guardian suggested cooking a baked potato in the microwave. Did they have Sean Bean’s recipe? The Which? column in Metro called for a minimum geographic baseline for access to cash. Almost 1,000 migrants intercepted crossing the channel Saturday, refugee minister Lord Harrington resigned saying the job of helping Ukrainians in need was done. As it was revealed Shamima Begum was smuggled into Syria by a Canadian spook, lawyers challenged the removal of her citizenship on the grounds that she was a trafficking victim. It reminded us of a film we saw where those nasty Canadian spooks left a kid rotting in a Thai jail.
Orangeoke
Scary Orangeoke
Alcohol and insomnia led to a groggy start Thursday 8th. Phil also discombobulated, he made 3 attempts to say happy birthday. I treated myself to a mini-spa while he fetched the salmon to cook a posh brekkie. Pouring the end of the fizz for a toast, we had 1 sip and spent the morning trying to finish it – we couldn’t hack morning drinking anymore! He made a card from a cute classic car photo, complete with number plates labelled ‘Happy Birthday Mary’ and matching gift tags for more pressies than I expected. After unwrapping, I read Facebook messages and sent one to a cousin who shared my birthdate. Walking Friend called with sunflowers and a gift bag of goodies before a filling 2-course lunch deal at The Cypriot. Fuddled by cocktails, we palavered over splitting the bill and finished the drinks out on the street. Too quiet for after-school time, the reasons became clear later. Walking Friend came back for coffee, cake and Count Arthur Strong on DVD. Facing the grim prospect of coming home between rail strike days, I didn’t blame her for not visiting us in Scarborough the following week. Unbeknown to us, industrial action was postponed, explaining no altered schedule, but a medical emergency at Scarborough station delayed our return. Feeling stuffed and sleepy, I managed to edit celebratory photos and take a phone pic of a postcard stuck on the bedroom mirror, but recreating the vintage North Cliff view proved nigh impossible. The friendly seaside town offering much more than we remembered from our youth, we had a great holiday, avoiding scary Orangeoake at an unfathomable loyalist pub! (See Cool Places 2ii).
Cliff View by Me
The queen’s demise confirmed at 6.30 p.m., Phil reckoned she died around 3, hence the hush, the royals flying to Balmoral and the palace saying she was ‘under medical supervision’ (a euphemism for euthanasia; protocol to prevent hanging on). Weirdly only 2 days after investing Trussed-Up, not only had a monarch never died in our lifetime before, a new PM and King in the same week was unprecedented. I’d never forget the date but at least I dodged a big 60th celebration which would’ve been totally overshadowed.
Cue interminable toadying and suspension of parliament – so much for deliver, deliver, deliver! Saturday’s proclamation by King Charles III a load of pompous guff, it was historically made public for the first time. Appointed leader of the house and lord president of the privy council only 4 days ago, Penny Mordor led proceedings. It was followed next day by proclamations across the land (hence spotting a man in a funny hat in Scarborough), a King’s address Monday at Westminster Hall to both Houses, and Jeremy Vine observing Queenie had met more people than anyone else on the planet. By the week’s end, queues to see her lying in state grew to 24 hours, snaking into Southwark Park and forcing its closure. Among the throngs, a woman unbelievably with her mum’s ashes, David Beckham and Jacinda Ardern filed past. Jacinda subsequently gushed about the dead queen to Laura K, who showed a good snippet of her saying doing stuff for people today was leadership, but doing stuff for tomorrow was statesmanship. Touché! That’s why there were no statesmen these days. In contrast to the virtue signalling, Philip Schofield and Holly Willoughby were accused of queue-jumping. Defending their actions as a segment for This Morning, Holly was in bits. Sky News presenter Sarah-Jane Mee mistook people protesting The Met fatally shooting Chris Kaba for royal mourners, prompting 598 Ofcom complaints.
Cliff View Vintage
The least global deaths since March 2020, WHO Dr Tedros saw the end of the pandemic in sight. Having clicked links in texts received before our hols to find covid boosters unbookable, Look North urged so to get them! SNP MP Margaret Farrier received 270 hours community service. GDP rose 0.2% in July; less than expected because of the heatwave.
Retail sales fell 1.6% in August and the pound fell to a 37-year low of $1.13. Unemployment down to 3.9% in the last quarter, inflation was 9.9%, mainly because petrol fell 7.5% but food prices went up 1.5%. The John Lewis Partnership ‘forgo profit’ to give staff £500 each and raise starter pay by 4%. Amazon warehouse staff in Coventry were balloted on strike action. An EU windfall tax would raise more than €140bn towards energy bills. Meanwhile, the UK government said post-Brexit Northern Ireland border check suspension would continue and promised to backdate support for businesses, giving no details. Rich twat Chancellor Kwasi Modo planned to lift the bankers’ bonus cap. Labour 17 points ahead in some polls, idiot Lizzie Chat-show said they had one problem: Keir Starmer who didn’t even know what a woman was. Say, what now? At the party conference, Keir pledged to create a state-owned Great British Energy corporation to invest in green infrastructure, gain independence from Russia, drive growth and create a million jobs. IMF watching the dire UK situation, he said the tories had not only failed to fix the roof but “ripped out the foundations, smashed through the windows and blown the doors off for good measure.” He was met by standing ovations and a race row as MP Rupa Huq was suspended for calling Kwasi ‘superficially black’. She stopped shy of calling him a coconut and later apologised for ‘ill-judged comments’. Ukrainian gains in Kharkiv, Olena went to Strasbourg for the EC president’s state of the union address where Von Hitler said Vlad the Impaler would fail and declared solidarity with Ukraine, and husband Vlod went to Izium, crashing his car driving back to Kyiv. Turkish cargo ship Anatolian was allegedly fired on by Greek coastguards. New Met chief Mark Rowley started work.
A Huge Gamble
Beachside Panorama
Tired from the prolonged train journey, I’d retired early Friday and spent most of the weekend writing up diaries, editing photos, washing and buying groceries. After sitting around for 3 hours Sunday, Phil declared he didn’t have time for lunch before his shift. Irked by unnecessary stress, I fed him coffee and cake then tidied the garden, seeing The Student to-ing and fro-ing in different coats in case it rained. Unaware The Woman-Next-Door sat in her parked car, she made me jump opening the door. Her Polish trip part holiday, part treatment for olfactory issues, she was a veritable ‘I saw you coming’ mug for every New Age therapy going! Fatigued, I went back in but at least I’d had fresh air and social contact.
Monday declared a Bank Holiday, media covered nowt but the dead queen. Deathly quiet, we heard 1 car, 1 train and bickering crows. Even The Store, open on Christmas day, shut 10-1. I stuck telly on as the state funeral procession set off from Westminster Hall for the abbey service with posh singing and an idiotic speech from Trussed-Up. The gun carriage slow-march to Admiralty Arch interminable and hypnotic, we wondered where all the Quality Street soldiers came from. World leaders told to catch the bus, Uncle Joe brought The Beast and Queen Margarite of Denmark caught covid.
Forcing myself to rise Tuesday, I made good progress with the new ‘corvus papers’ method. Phil asked if I needed any shopping. “Yes, There’s a list. I suppose you want smoking stuff.” “Yes I was going to town but I’ll go co-op.” In the end, he went on his errand then met me to help carry groceries and call me cheeky for chucking things in his rucksack. Still avoiding fuel use and experimenting with clothes-drying techniques, I realised I’d worn the same socks 2 days solid! Wednesday, I did boring stuff and Phil worked late. Slamming the front door on his return, the living room door swung open, bringing in a mass of cold air. I didn’t get warm all night. After cleaning the bathroom Thursday, I collapsed on the bed with a sigh. Phil asked what was wrong;, leading to a tirade on the wearisomeness of everyday life. Hard getting back to normal after the break, I’d just started to feel less overwhelmed by drudgery, when he’d dropped the bombshell he was working all next weekend. It wasn’t his fault but an inability to plan was stressful. He promised to ask why he was doing far more than the alleged 16 hours a week, made coffee and proffered choc biscuit misshapes, which he’d got from The Store (along with 3 packs of gammon steak) and already scoffed loads. Going to town, beech nuts on the street crunched beneath our feet and confetti festooned the old bridge. He checked his shifts and I perused the market. Toiletries scant, I scowled at a woman with sharp elbows rudely stretching over to pay while I was transacting. My mind went blank buying veg. Phil caught up to take photos of Chantilly carrots, making Jolly Veg Man laugh. As Phil strode across the square towards a parliament of corvids, I felt faint, flopped on a seat and decided lunch was overdue. Going home via the new bridge, he mused: “what’s in the river today?” “Ducks, sticks, an air freshener, an orange plastic thingy, a carrier bag…it’s like one of those memory games, or dementia tests.” Maybe I needed one after the brain freeze! QT from Grimsby the usual unbalanced nonsense, loony Clare Fox who started out in the RCP and ended up a tory-nominated peer, got too much airtime. On Newscast, rich git Cobra Billamora looked forward to the mini-budget giving him more dosh.
Friday 22nd marked the autumn equinox. Seeing a light on early morning, I assumed Phil had gone to work, turned it off, then heard him rise. Checking the clock, it was actually 6 a.m., not 7. He later complained I’d woken him but got his own back waking me at 5.30 the next day. I exchanged texts with Walking Friend about free curry, The Poet’s fire party and a cinema trip. Shopping in sunny warmth, I felt overdressed, especially as Woman-Next-Door sat out in a sundress. Another neighbour also too hot, she’d prematurely stowed her summer clothes. I’d not even washed mine after our hols! At least my swimming cosi was unused, unlike the Scarborough Diving Belle. I potted a cutting in a cute pot for Walking Friend then got achy and tired pruning.
Diving Belle
GP numbers still dropping and seeing one impossible, Therese Coffee-Cup said there was too much variation in the care people got across the country, and unveiled underwhelming plans for the NHS including a 2-week wait to see a GP; it was 2 days in 2010! Coming up with a moronic ABCD mantra (ambulances, backlog, care, doctors and dentists), she promised £15m more for carers and pension changes to stop doctors leaving the NHS. Holidaymakers were urged to cash in vouchers worth £30m before they expired at month’s end. Dunoon grammar school, Argyle, was shortlisted as among the best in the world for community help. Kids had streamed bingo into care homes during lockdowns and presented ideas to Cop26.
A cap would halve firms’ energy bills for 6 months from 1st October. Long-awaited and welcome, businesses wanted more, but Rees-Moggy said they’d have to wait. Cost estimates varied from £25-40bn, depending on gas prices, on top of £150bn household support. IFS predicted £231bn government borrowing this year and debt rising for many to come. Reckoning the UK was already in recession, BOE raised interest to a 14-year high of 2.25%. At the UN in New York, Trussed-Up told the BBC she was prepared to be unpopular for ‘taking difficult decisions’ such as allowing bigger banker’s bonuses, to ‘attract investment’ and grow the economy. Labour said it was the wrong priorities. Doing 2 weeks’ business in 3 days, amid a glut of government proclamations, Rees-Moggy lifted the ban on fracking in England. Dismissing earthquake concerns, even as one happened in Mexico, INEOS claimed reserves could equal the North Sea. No cheaper and not enough for everyone, Greenpeace called for a nationwide solution to the energy crisis.
Trussed-Up gloated on the front bench as Kwasi Modo presented his Kamikaze budget. Besides what we already knew, he postponed the alcohol duty rise, increased the stamp duty threshold to £250k, cut basic income tax by 1p, abolished the highest 45% rate and defended banker’s bonuses as we needed global banks here, not Frankfurt. Total tax cuts equating to £45bn, Universal Credit claimants earning less than £142.50 a week (15 hours on the living wage) must prove they were trying to work more or face benefits cuts! Rachel Reeves called it the last roll of the dice after 12 years of tory failure, by “desperate gamblers in a casino chasing a losing run.” Allowing huge banker’s bonuses while axing nurses’ pay, Frances O’Grady wanted to know what planet they were on. Wearing ludicrous clod-hoppers with a suit, Kwasi told Chris Mason there was technically a recession but hoped it’d be shallow and then denied there was one! His former boss, hedge fund manager Crispin Odey, confirmed Phil’s belief that crashing the pound was a deliberate ploy to benefit his rich scummy mates by cashing in on betting against it, and gilts. Economists thought vastly disproportionate gains for the wealthy may artificially boost the economy but if the BOE responded with bigger interest rates, could prompt a boom and bust cycle. Avanti restoring some west coast services, RMT would strike again 8th October. 30,000 had made dicey channel crossings this year.
NY attorney general Tish James accused The Trump and 3 sprogs of fraud by exaggerating how much they were worth. An appeal court ruled the papers could be reviewed and Trump bragged he could declassify state documents ‘just by thinking about them’. Referenda to be held in Russian-controlled regions of Ukraine, Vlad the Impaler openly accused The West of nuclear blackmail and announced a major escalation mobilising reservists, to ‘defend the motherland’ and ‘liberated territories’. 13,000 anti-war protestors were arrested and amid a rush to escape the call-up, queues formed at borders, outbound flights were full and Ruslan Zinin shot a military official at a Siberian enlistment office. At the UN, Uncle Joe called the referenda a ‘sham’ and the war ‘brutal’. Reports later emerged of households being forced to vote at gunpoint and Ukrainians fleeing Russian-controlled areas to avoid fighting fellow countrymen. On her way to meet Uncle Joe, Trussed-Up announced the return of 5 British nationals, thanks to Vlod and Saudi Arabia. As the sea monster in Weston was finished in the last days of Unboxed (aka Brexit Festival), Julian Knight of the DCMS committee, questioned how many visitors the ‘monumental waste’ had attracted. Creative director Martin Green insisted it was value for money. 95% of 12,800 saplings planted by Gloucester City Council to celebrate the jubbly, perished during the hot summer because there was nobody to water them.
At A Crossroads
Cute Jackdaw
Saturday, I went to a print fair at the town hall, to compliment The Printer on an image of Scarborough (similar to my photo panorama), speak to another affected by the fire and quiz a third on her etchings. I mooched round charity shops, the crap market where a posh woman exclaimed: ‘ooh mushrooms! Just like the dress I bought last week!’ (she meant toadstool earrings) and the wavy steps (eyed by a cute jackdaw). All heaving, I sought quiet in the library where an old pub mate exiting helpfully told me it was closing in 10 mins, confirmed by a notice. I got reduced items from the rival convenience store and lay in wait for Phil. As I hid in a doorway, a hippie parked her car with taped-over lights on the double-yellowed junction, went barefoot into The Store and emerged with a vape (aka the new crack). The plethora of highway code infractions almost tempted me to report her. Finishing at 3 on the dot, Phil headed up the street. I yelled “Oi!” We wove through the packed square to sit riverside and chat. Though a challenge lugging ice at 7.00 a.m., it was quite jolly on a Saturday and didn’t feel like a full working day (no commute helped). The NHS had sent me a birthday gift of a home testing kit. Sunday, I duly put poo on the stick and set out to post it. Drumming as soon as I left the house, the handmade parade was in full swing. Just my luck! Picking what I hoped was a less busy route, I was hemmed in by crowds, fought my way across the square and looked for the post-box. Remembering it went years ago, I bought knobbly veg and nipped in The Store where Phil was re-stocking shelves. “Have you *** seen it out there!” “Shh! Don’t swear!” “Sorry, see you later.” Over at the post office, there was no evading the parade as it went down the cul-de-sac. I knew it was a fun family event and I was being peevish but the throngs and drumming made me weary and headachy. Narked by Phil’s lack of sympathy later, I conceded he must be more knackered after 3 earlies on the trot.
Monday a chilly mix of sun and showers, one literally stopped after our house! Still tired, I struggled with a communal food wastebin that wouldn’t shut. Fixing the hinge, I muttered. The Widower appeared: “Talking to yourself?” “Yes, it’s the only way I get any sense, ha, ha!” Ahead of the new price cap, Octopus Energy boss Greg Jackson urged Ofgem to lower standing charges and BG helpfully e-mailed that our bills would be over 3 grand next year. Not if I could help it! I sent meter readings forthwith. Sleeping later Tuesday, I briefly felt the benefit, shopped speedily in a tranquil co-op and sorted documents to renew a PTL,* faffing to print a profile pic (needlessly, as it turned out). During a cold night, loud machinery disturbed me and condensation coated the windows Wednesday. I put the heating on for the first time in months, hoovered discarded cobwebs and spider skins and exchanged a string of texts with Walking Friend, agreeing to meet in the library before free curry. Then Phil messed with the hoover, claiming I’d missed a cobweb, then the Ocado driver rang to say he’d be early. Head spinning, I managed a few notes before the jolly Geordie arrived. Phil was asked to work earlier for a colleague’s GP appointment (how did she get that?) Soon after going, he phoned saying it was next week. “Shall I come home or sit in the sun? It’s nice out.” “Just chill then.” Also wanting sunshine, I took chilli plants out to repot but defeated by entangled roots, gave up, and went to town.
Infantile graffiti covered the squat’s boarded-up windows. The Ice Cream rep didn’t turn up in court next day, so the anarchists weren’t evicted. In the library, I was told to renew my PTL online. “Where are the collection points?” “Not sure. Do you need an orange dot?” “Yes.” “I’ll look in the drawer.” The librarian kindly made the pass for me (minus photo after the palaver) I chose a book and returned to the desk to find I was de-registered. Re-registering took longer than getting the pass! Meanwhile, Walking Friend arrived. We discussed Scarborough and what to expect from free curry night. Seeing nobody at the front of the chapel, she suggested we go to the side entrance where a woman I recognised from Vegan Friend’s pre-covid party greeted us. Walking Friend uneasy accepting charity, I searched for my mates to put her at ease but saw no sign of them. Three lovely people took our order, then repeatedly apologised for the wait. The room’s buzz Initially enjoyable, as it filled up, the noise made me light-headed and fatigued (not helped by a missed siesta). Chaotic and too many helpers, I ditched the idea of volunteering in future. We made for the exit, told an acquaintance to watch out for cardamoms and heard someone ask if there were containers for the cake. “Cake!” we cried in unison. The door-greeter opened a side door for easy access to the cake table where there was also a donation tin. Inviting her in, I assured my friend I could cope with a cuppa and cake despite tiredness. We nattered some and I gave her the plant cutting before she wended home via the hidden path before dark. Finding her scrunchie on the bathroom floor, I thought I’d better wash it.
Stunned by another long sleep Thursday, I ignored my woes for a walk and lunch at the Hilltop Village, agreeing with a friend en route, on the awful state of the country and the joys of life on a stunning autumn day (see Cool Placesiii). In a bright night sky, Neptune and Pluto vied for attention with a glowing orange Jupiter (at the nearest point to Earth for 59 years). Plagued by backache, I needed the meditation soundtrack to aid sleep, then got woken in Friday’s early hours by Phil getting up and a racket outside. Knowing the pretty but yellow watery dawn presaged a wet, grey day, I dug out a parka before venturing out. The co-op quiet again, my namesake asked was I going walking? “Not in that! But it’s warmer out than in the house without heating.” I agreed we’d need it sometimes to prevent mould and burst pipes.
Autumn Scene
Concluding coronavirus killed an A&E worker, a coroner was flummoxed that only staff on red wards got face-masks in May 2020. According to Zoe Health Studies’ Tim Spector, hospital admissions were up 37% on the previous week, the highest since 19th August. A 7% rise in fatal road crashes in 2021 was blamed on lockdown easing. Trickle-down economics a pile of poo and markets jittery, the pound fell further against the dollar and OBR forecasts hinted at U-turns. They promised an economic forecast by 7th October but after Trussed-Up joined Kwasi in meeting them, she said it wouldn’t be made public ‘til 23rd November when they unveiled further plans. Lenders stopped offering low-cost mortgages.
As footage of her saying Brits needed more graft was unearthed, Rayner told conference the PM didn’t care about working people and we were at a crossroads akin to 1997. Labour Left Internationalists called singing God Save the King a ‘doubling-down on monarchism’, ‘almost comic’. Ed Millipede mocked Rees-Moggy’s ‘energy policy for the 1820s’. BBC tips to save money included cooking with a microwave rather than an iron! (sic) Online searches for ‘energy bill help’ the highest ever and ‘food banks near me’ up 250%, Jon Ashworth pledged labour would freeze prices, paid for by windfall taxes. The BOE stepped in to buy UK gilt bonds, leading to an immediate fall in long-date yields and lower public borrowing rates. Was it enough to prevent a Northern Rock-style run on pensions? Should I have cashed mine in? Former gov Mark Carney said Kwasi’s ‘partial budget’ was at cross-purposes with the bank. Referring to ‘ministry of the talentless’, witty Rayner said: “Liz Truss has even crashed the pork market. Now. That. Is. A. disgrace. You’d think snouts in the trough was the one thing they could manage.” MPs demanding urgent recall of parliament to face questions on running the economy down, Trussed-Up did a round of car-crash local radio interviews to be flummoxed by simple questions, witter about freezing energy costs and blame Vlod and the world for turbulence. WTF! Was she just thick or dropped on her head as a baby? Rayner quipped she’d: “finally broken her long painful silence with a series of short painful silences.” A YouGov poll put labour 33 points ahead. Gammons still thought we should give her a chance. Government ignoring demands for a 10% pay rise, at least £15 per hour and not cutting 91,000 jobs, Mark Serwotka said the PCSU had no choice but to ballot 20,000 civil servants. Sales up 18.7% in the last quarter, Aldi, now the UKs 4th biggest supermarket, pledged to put people before profits and build 16 new stores. Turning down public money to keep it open, Peel Group would wind down Robin Hood airport from 31st October. 32 Wetherspoons pubs including Halifax would shut. How’s Brexit working out, Tim?
A complexity of issues culminated in large-scale disorder in Leicester mainly involving young Asian men. One person convicted, cops said further arrests could go on for months. SML put the strife down to tensions between Sikhs and Muslims, started by a football match in August. Others blamed fundamentalists from outside the city stirring it. New HO minister Swellen told police to do their jobs properly.
Helped by blast-from-the-past Berlusconi, far-right Giorgia Meloni (aka Molly Malone) was set to become Italian PM. Amid covid restrictions and geopolitical tensions, Apple switched manufacture of the iPhone 14 from China to India. Russian gas pipeline leaks made bubbles in the Baltic Sea near the Danish island of Bornholm. Sabotage was suspected. At a signing ceremony to incorporate 4 eastern regions of Ukraine into Russia**, a concert for an invited audience in Red Square drowned out the international outcry. NASA slammed a min-fridge-sized spacecraft into asteroid Didymos-Dimorphos. DART successfully hit it off course, astronomers spotted increased brightness, but it’d be weeks ‘till we knew if the space rocks’ orbit was shortened. Scarborough planned to a centre of excellence for cyber-security – obviously building on the legacy of GCHQ Scarborough which we learnt about on our visit.
Queenie’s death certificate confirmed the cause as old age and the time as 3.10 p.m. Phil was right! Michelle Pfeiffer was heartbroken by the passing of Coolio, of Gangstas Paradise fame. The majority of Northern Ireland residents Catholic for the first time ever, a referendum on a united Ireland was probable. The Orangemen didn’t factor in Catholics breeding like rabbits when they rigged the borders, did they!
”This is not an abstract discussion…this is whether people can live meaningful lives” (Michael Marmot)
Striking Out
Migrating Geese
The geese migrated during August, picking at weeds and sunbathing in the middle of our street, which was okay except for them pooing on the doorstep. The Local Celeb and Wife on the street below concurred.
Blogs taking a hiatus, I planned to look for paid freelancing jobs but DIY took up most of the month. The task hard enough, another heatwave made it even worse. On the plus side, in a tangle of wires behind the telly, we discovered appliances unnecessarily plugged in thus using leccy, including the evil Xbox. Slimming down to essentials would save pennies! And I got to wear a racy early 21st century painting outfit of wide pants and an FCUK tee. Phil slogged to the hardware store in the next village on Monday 1st and buses not turning up, lugged bags of plaster back. The Woman Next Door subsequently said she’d have given him a lift. Maybe next time. After fixing the living room ceiling, we tackled the grotty wall behind the sofa. Cobwebs and dust had congealed into fluffy brown clumps. Vile stains proved immovable. Resigned to painting, could we buy the same shade? Of course not! And when that made a dazzling yellow, we had to make all the others match, and do the windows. While the sofa was in the middle of the room, I enjoyed the different view but not the inconvenience of being unable to reach the side table. Our woes paled into insignificance as a fire in a converted mill gutted creative businesses. Starting at 2.00 a.m. on Tuesday 2nd in the Italian Restaurant kitchen, we speculated that someone left the chipper on arson by a rival, The building declared unsafe, fire engines from Manchester and across Yorkshire worked throughout the day to make it safe, and people were told to avoid closed town centre roads – an Air BnB tragedy! Mercifully no casualties, nearby homes were evacuated and others advised to keep windows and doors shut. The Lampshade Maker whose studio was destroyed, went on Look North to say “I can’t believe it’s all gone!” A resident of the street below, we got her story first-hand a couple of days later when she returned from a restorative woodland walk. As they were insured, I was flummoxed by crowd-funding for those affected.
Gammon Steampunks i
Saturday, I bumped into German Friend and Counsellor Friend. Bantering on the trials of shopping and the oddness of Steampunk and classic car weekend coinciding, I mentioned we’d go see the old bangers Sunday. Counsellor Friend quipped: “Talking about yourself? Ha, ha.” “Cheeky! It’s a touchy subject. I’m 60 in a month.” “Oh no! That means my brother is too and I’ve sent him nowt.” German Friend confided 60 didn’t feel that bad. As she waved bye, I briefly recounted our travails to Counsellor Friend then apologised for cheerless rabbiting.
Gammon Steampunks ii
Sunday in the park was indeed weird. Were the punters steam-gammons or gammon-punks? As well as admiring the classics, providing Phil a month’s worth of photo-editing, we bought a mini table vice, prompting a ditty to the tune of edelweiss and perused the extortionate ‘food court’. Heading into town, we browsed the squat library, eyed suspiciously by young anarcho-punks. I was reading them old classics before their parents were born!
A couple of weeks later, the squat windows were smashed; there were some nasty people about, but I had to chuckle at handwritten notices threatening court to anyone who entered without their permission – very anarchistic! Finding nothing tempting on the steampunk market or normal Sunday market, we got pasties and pop from the shop and sat near the wavy steps to watch the antics of poseurs, dogs and kids in kilts, becoming rather warm in the strong sun. Sauntering home, we chatted to Irish Neighbour clearing up dead trees on the street, about the town being packed with tourists, inflation, Brexit and the war, leading to another apology for being so depressing!
Covid deaths fell 11% for the first time since June. King’s College research put long-covid in 3 categories: neurological; breathing; other symptoms. Predicting recession in the last quarter and lasting into 2023. the BoE raised the interest rate to 1.75%. Andrew Bailey blamed Russia for rising energy costs. Gammons were still in denial it was anything to do with Brexit. Trussed-Up repeated she’d lower taxes ‘from day one’ rather than give cost of living handouts, and Rishi Rich said if they didn’t get inflation under control, tories could ‘kiss goodbye’ to the next election. Meanwhile, 52% of people polled, now found a pint unaffordable. BT workers on strike, Lisa Nandy joined a CWU picket line in Wigan. As they were affiliated to labour, she had permission and didn’t speak to the media, she incurred no wrath, unlike Tarry. Locked into a 4-year 2% pay deal, junior doctors would get less than NHS colleagues. The BMA wrote to Rishi and Truss urging them to prevent an inevitable strike. Offered a paltry 2%, Scottish bin men struck for the duration of the Edinburgh fringe. Accused of ‘levelling down’, Trussed-Up ditched plans for public sector regional pay boards. Amid hacking fears, GCHQ delayed mailing of tory leadership ballot papers. Lord Cruddas said a vote for Boris would stop interference. Horrifyingly, he’d probably be back after she fucked up. The New Statesman obtained a video wherein Rishi boasted of diverting funds from deprived urban areas to places that ‘really deserved it’ like Tunbridge Wells. Chair of red wall tory northerners, Jake Berry, wasn’t impressed. Nandy wrote to her counterpart Greg Clark to ‘urgently investigate’ saying: “It’s scandalous that Rishi Sunak is openly boasting that he fixed the rules to funnel taxpayers’ money to prosperous Tory shires.”
Amid reports of traffickers reducing prices in a competitive market, 14 boats arrived in Ramsgate, each carrying 50 people. The record 700 migrants on a single day were bussed in double-deckers. Ship Razoni set off to full of Ukrainian grain at long last. Nancy Pelosi’s visit to Taiwan prompted Chinese military exercises, reports of fighter jet incursions into Taiwanese airspace and the firing of 11 missiles. China later halted co-operation with the US in key areas such as climate change, military talks and combating international crime, and sanctioned Pelosi. Why the hell did the daft woman go there? Jaswant Singh Chail, arrested on Christmas day for possessing a loaded crossbow with intent to harm Queenie at Windsor Castle, was charged under the treason act. In a bid to reserve dwindling water supplies, hosepipe bans were announced in Hants, Kent and Sussex. After Useless George told The Torygraph there should be a national ban, water companies were derided for impractical water-saving tips. We Own It gasped: ‘who has an oak barrel?’ As a burst water main flooded Hornsey Road, George Monbiot told Jeremy Vine it was no surprise water companies piped profits into shareholders’ pockets instead of investing in infrastructure. James Gammon was the only one who didn’t agree they should be nationalised. A dad bathing with his kids found a stash of dumped guns in a river pool in Catford. Harry Gration’s funeral took place at York Minster while Issey Miyake was buried before the news of his demise broke. Roy Hackett (equality campaigner and founder of the Bristol bus boycott paving the way for the Race Relations Act), also died. Surely that solved the issue of whose statue should replace Colston? A new super-fast mapping device on the William Herschel telescope would help analyse how the galaxy was formed. Maybe they should’ve detected lumps of Space X which landed in a farmer’s field in New South Wales. Rather than demand compo, they could sell it back to Elon Musk or flog it on e-bay. A Halifax woman hilariously electrocuted hoovering her fake lawn, was saved from death by awful rubber shoes.
Taxing Times
Secret Gorge
Headaches, befuddlement, hot flushes and melancholia plagued the second week of August. Although sometimes too fatigued to exercise, I managed to not stay abed. To top it all, a series of tech issues made the laptop sluggish and the ipad suddenly decided I needed to verify my Apple account and my date of birth was wrong! Phil located the freephone number for a human to eventually sort it, but the palaver was very stressful. Almost as bad as trying to extract dosh from a piddly stakeholder pension. Over-complicated and a total con (why did I have to pay tax when I’d already paid it on earnings?), after advice from Moneywise, I gave up. Neighbours all abroad in the hot spell, idle chatter brought light relief although I avoided the WhatsApp group to oppose new affordable housing and close contact with The Widower, whose daughter came to look after him and ended up bedridden with suspected covid!
Tempted by a co-op deal of pizzas and beer for a fiver, I couldn’t find the 4-pack. A staff member located it ‘on the beer shelf’. “Which one?” When I told him I’d got no reply to my complaint to HO, he requested I let him know if I did. After greeting a woman on the street below for the first time on the way, she and her partner sat out on deckchairs on my return. I remarked on their extremely fluffy cat. “Yes, it must be hot.” “I was thinking that; I know they like sun but there are limits!” Sunday, we visited the favoured clough to find it so dry we could walk up the brook – a secret gorge! (see Cool Placesi). We also noticed felled red leaves due to hot, dry conditions. BBC Breakfast later mentioned the ‘false autumn’. A notice on the convenience store advertised part-time vacancies. Phil had a new job within weeks. I was chuffed for him, not because of the money but because it boosted his self-esteem. Interesting fact: the stores’ huge basement extended to the marketplace – a possible history photo project. Struggling to sleep with hot flushes and drippy sweats over the weekend, I had weird dreams. One entailed ex-colleagues in workplace scenarios giving me food and cash in an envelope marked ‘office reserves’. In another, Walking Friend and I used a shortcut to the airport via a college with lots of rooms. It looked familiar like I’d previously dreamt the place, while simultaneously feeling as though I should and shouldn’t be there.
7,000 extra NHS beds were planned for winter but there wouldn’t be enough staff. Ending a 3-month lockdown after allegedly only 74 deaths, Kim Jong-un proclaimed a North Korean victory over covid. The UK economy shrank by 0.1% April-June. Firms still waiting for business rate rebates promised during the pandemic, ¾ of restaurant chains made a loss. National Energy Action wanted help urgently; the later it came, the more people would die in cold homes. Protesting soaring bills, the social media movement Don’t Pay UK gained momentum, but not paying could lead to more problems. Jack Munro advised reducing prices for all and switching from DD to standing order payments, depending on penalties. ¾ of red wall tory voters reckoned government failed to tackle the cost of living crisis. Gordy Brown and CBI boss Tony Danker also wanted something urgent. Number 10 said that would be up to the new PM and ministers drew up options for whoever that would be (as if we didn’t know). Danker spluttered: “We simply cannot afford a summer of government inactivity while the leadership contest plays out followed by a slow start from a new PM and cabinet.” Boris shocked energy bosses by actually turning up to a meeting with Kwasi Modo and Nads Zahawi who inanely said it was tough times. Trussed-Up said profits weren’t dirty and windfall taxes were about ‘bashing business’. We Own It found 3/5 supported public ownership of utilities and the Tony Blair institute reckoned Truss’s plans would save low income households a mighty 76p per month. Nurses asking for a 16% rise (which they’d never get) took part in a strike ballot. BBC leadership interviews avoided, later in the month, Trussed-Up insisted she was too busy to speak to Nick Robinson. After Rishi said he’d bin it, Ben Wally scrapped the muted migrant camp at Linton-On-Ouse. Of 7 cities shortlisted to host Eurovision 2023, Glasgow was shockingly the only one outside England. During chaos in Oxford Street not reported in mainstream media, American candy shops were looted, Ferraris jumped on, police assaulted and a dispersal order enforced. The legal test for prosecution not met, CPS dropped charges against 6 attendees at the Sarah Everard vigil, March 2021. Dania Al-Obeid subsequently brought civil proceedings against The Met. Salman Rushdie was stabbed preparing to give a lecture in NY state. More wildfires in Portugal, Spain, Southern France and England, new heat warnings were issued and official droughts declared in parts of south and east England. Introducing a hosepipe ban, Thames Water dished out bottled water due to a glitch. The ban came to Yorkshire 26th August. Half of Europe parched, Naga Manchette was ‘shocked’ by a dry Rhine. The FBI raided Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago Florida house and later disclosed they found 100 ‘top secret’ document – all a conspiracy of course! Olivia Newton John and Raymond Briggs died. A moving tribute to the latter on The Beeb was followed by Ethel & Earnest.
Shocking Disparities
Hedgerow Bounty
A boring start to week 3, I was cheered by charity shopping (finding a cute shirt in the Community Shop) and lunch with Walking Friend Wednesday. Seeking a change, we headed for The Kitchen but ran away from exorbitant prices. Walking Friend queried where would we get cheaper in this town? One of our usual places of course! After baked potatoes at half price in The Tearooms, we wandered town and gazed upon the weir. She told me she once found a safe with the back blown off in a brook. Was it from a heist? Phil had arranged to put a picture up for her Friday, but as more problems were unearthed, he delayed doing anything more till a spark had a proper look. Glad of no cooking after a day decorating alone, I noted the cold tapas was rather pricey. Phil predicted eating more chicken nuggets in future. I used to scoff at people saying eating fresh was more expensive than junk, but Inflation at a record 10.1% and groceries up 11.6%, it really was now! Sunday, we returned to the foraging grounds for a couple of pounds of blackberries. Enjoyable but knackering, I managed to splatter my jeans in purple juice (See Cool Places).
Effective against the original Wuhan and Omicron strains of coronavirus, Moderna’s new bivalent vaccine would provide 13 of the 26 million autumn booster doses. We were counselled to take up whatever was offered. As roll-out was confirmed from 5th September, starting with the housebound and care homes, GPs warned £10.60 per jab wasn’t enough to ensure delivery. US scientists found musical instruments no worse spreaders than normal breathing. SNP MP Margaret Farrier pleaded guilty to exposing the public to covid travelling by train between London and Glasgow, September 2020. Monkeypox cases plateaued at 20 a day, but vaccine shortages caused concern. Northern mayors feared drastic bus service cuts when coronavirus support ended and Heathrow extended the cap on passengers until 29th October. Calling them lame, Mike O’Leary pledged to save half-term with extra Stanstead flights. At the end of August, Ryanair announced more winter flights than ever while Eurostar still recovering from the pandemic’s impact, would axe direct London services to Disneyland Paris next year. Generation Covid who’d missed out on GCSE exams, received A level and T level results. Less students achieving top grades than when based on teacher assessments in 2021, record numbers progressed to university. A stark divide between private and public schools, a shocking disparity between the South East and North East was blamed on the disproportionate impact of lockdowns (11% versus 15% lessons missed). A week later, GCSE results showed similar regional differences, with almost 1/3 above grade 7/A in London, compared to around 1/5 in the North East, Yorks and Humber, due to poverty and lost learning. Pearson’s BTEC results delayed, labour urged Ofqual to investigate what went wrong. As The Bumbler was on his hols again, Tory donor Lord Rose said he was on shore leave. Keir also accused of being MIA, labour set out plans to cancel the £400 energy payments and freeze the price cap instead. The £29 bn outlay would be paid for by windfall tax changes, more income from bigger oil and gas prices and lower inflation making government loans less costly. No authority to implement plans, it heaped pressure on the government to do more.
ONS data showed private sector ay rose 5.4% compared to 1.8% for the public sector. Wages fell 3% in real terms. Richard Walker told BBC Breakfast about Iceland’s partnership with Fair For You, giving micro-loans so the hard-up could buy food. 18-month pilots revealed few defaulted, with easy terms of £1 a week if they did. Avanti West Coast reduced their timetable due to staff ‘making themselves unavailable’, and cancelled advance ticket sales till 11th September. Avanti MD Phil Whittingham resigned 15th September, exposing his lies that less services were staffs’ fault. More strikes on 18th and 20th August saw 4/5 trains cancelled and Jeremy Corbyn on the Euston picket line. RMT members joined TFL pickets Friday. Mick Lynch said workers in other sectors were winning pay disputes and the public were increasingly behind them. DOT pledged a below-inflation rail fare rise, delayed until March – so less than 11.% then! P&O unbelievably wouldn’t face criminal charges for sacking staff. After polio was found in the sewage of 8 London boroughs, child vaccines became urgent. Water companies scandalously leaked 3bn litres a day and gave bosses 18% bonuses. Downpours didn’t alleviate droughts as instead of soaking into the ground, rain caused flash-flooding in Market Raisin and raw sewage dumps led to warnings on 60 beaches, largely along the south coast but also at Morecambe and Robin Hoods Bay. Signs warned Lake Windermere visitors of blooming algae – that’d be the poo then! 20,000 arriving in dinghies so far this year, the High Court heard an adviser told government Rwanda wasn’t safe for migrants. Concerns over the Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant mounting, Erdogan met Vlod in Lviv to agree parameters of an International Atomic Agency mission. Pro-Putin commentator Darya Duginer (daughter of Alexander aka Rasputin), was killed by a car bomb. Outspokenly in support of the invasion, Ukraine denied involvement. The demise of Wolfgang Peterson meant no more Das Boot.
A Shock To The System
Soft Light
Towards the end of the month, I battled with achiness, demotivation and occasional tearfulness, to submit my autumn contribution to Valley Life magazine and attend the blood test appointment. A bruise-like mark later marred the crook of my elbow. Phil said: “That’s normal – you should see druggies’ arms.” “I don’t want to look like a junkie! Nothing else untoward, I thought right, where’s my HRT then? Despite several attempts, I failed to speak to a GP let alone get any. The weather reverting to type, scantily-clad tourists still stalked the town, idiotically looking in windows. “Ooh! A shoe shop!” Did they not have shoes where they came from? Feeling low midweek, soft evening light tempted us on a stroll along the canal and back through the park where teenagers did what teenagers do. Over the bank holiday weekend, we finished the living room revamp. Cleaning paintbrushes outside, a Local Historian toddled up for the first proper chat ever. She informed us she founded Valley Life and invited us to look at her vast Alice Longstaff collection which was nice. Breaking from DIY Sunday, we foraged to and from the hilltop village, competing with hunting spiders and supping butterflies. Wild apples augmented our berry harvest. After baking a massive crumble, there was enough to make jam. Phil suggested adding liqueur to the last smidge creating delicious jambuca. Slimmer pickings for a co-op top-up, the mentally-challenged cashier asked for £22. “Eh? That’s an expensive cabbage!” Phil was disgruntled by a lack of bank holiday fun but I was pleased we’d made progress, unlike with birthday and vacation plans. Anxious on Tuesday at a lack of preparedness, I failed to find any £1 tickets promised by Northern Rail, booked flexible off-peak returns to Scarborough and faffed saving e-tickets. I also booked the Cypriot restaurant for a birthday lunch, inviting Waling Friend. The next day, we went up to hers via a hidden path which mysteriously wound round above our street. As I gave her a jar of jam, she remarked she already had loads from an honesty box and a recent glut of plums on her terrace; but ours was a triumph! Phil took measurements for a spare part and got her kettle working so she could make a cuppa. On departure, she gave me a book and a selection of tiny jars of sparkles for crafting, vowing to stop buying stuff from Wish. This prompted a tirade on rising costs and not having a government. “Don’t get depressed.” She counselled. “I’m always depressed; it’s just a question of degrees!”
That evening, Aslef announced strikes on 15th and 17th September. No returning a day early to avoid the 9.00 a.m. check-out, a second begging attempt to the holiday let office mercifully resulted in an extension.
Hunting Spider
UK covid cases still falling, kids had less. ONS said they’d closely monitor rates when schools returned. The Covid alert fell from level 3 to 2 – I didn’t even know that was still a thing! It belied over 500 weekly fatalities with the death rate 18% above average for the time of year. Filipino kids went back to school wearing masks. No live classes for 2 years, 10 year olds were illiterate. Japan in the midst of a wave since July, PM Fumio Kishida tested positive. Anti-lockdowners Martin Hockridge and 3 others got 12-month community orders for harassing Nick Watt in June 2021.
ONS data for July revealed excess deaths during the heatwave; 7% higher than the daily average. GPs prescribed walking and cycling to combat mental health issues in several test areas including Bradford. Hints they could prescribe gas discounts prompted Wes Streeting to guffaw that government had ‘lost the plot’. Cineworld bankrupt, they continued trading, pending re-structure. Asda bought 129 co-op forecourts and 3 sites to cut co-op debt, sparking competition concerns. Sainsburys announced the scrapping of ‘use by dates’ on yogurt and pledged £65m to keep prices down. Lidl would take on 10,000 extra staff, provide them free Christmas dinners, and sold wonky veg stunted by drought, advocating other supermarkets follow suit.
Inflation forecast to reach 18%, ahead of setting a new energy price cap, Octopus Energy boss Greg Jackson urged government to double support or freeze suppliers’ charges. Rishi insisted he had the right priorities and Keir, looking like a nob in a hardhat, said labour had a plan. EDF warned half of households could face fuel poverty in winter, while SSE’s Seagreen Wind Farm turbines started spinning. Chip shops facing ‘extinction’, as, amongst other things, the price of cod bizarrely went up because of the war, pub chains wrote to government for help in preventing closures, but Nads was on a beano in America discussing long-term solutions to the gas crisis instead of sorting out immediate problems. He helpfully told The Torygraph the ‘national economic emergency’ would likely last 2 years. The Small Business Federation sought pandemic-style aid for companies. As the energy price cap rose to £3,549, Cornwall insight who correctly predicted the amount, warned it’d be £5k by Jan. Rachel Reeves wanted it cancelled.
Responsible for the 80% hike, Ofgem brazenly said government must act. Saying they knew this was coming for months, Martin Lewis bade they let us know now what further help there’d be. BG pledged 10% of profits to help the poorest customers, leaving 95% with nothing extra. Nads working ‘flat out’ on options, Useless George reiterated it was wrong to implement any until we had a new PM, and it’d be at the top of their in-tray – I should hope so! Not mentioning the hike, Rishi spoke of a mistake empowering scientists in the coronavirus response and not paying enough attention to longer-term impacts of lockdowns such as kids missing school and the NHS backlog. Posing in a hi-viz jacket to look at fibre optic cables, Boris lied that he wasn’t shrinking from the issues and more help was coming. He’d done nothing useful and would be gone in a week! Keir appeared on Jeremy Vine to say public ownership of utility companies wouldn’t bring prices down, omitting to mention government could use profits to subsidise bills and invest in infrastructure and renewables. Resolution Foundation predicted a 10% fall in mean disposable income in 2022 and 14m in poverty 2023-4. Saying it’d affect 10m kids, Institute of Health Equity boss Prof Michael Marmot said it’d affect 10m kids and it wasn’t an ‘abstract discussion’.
Seeing no end to the awful state we were in, I added: ‘things can only get shitter!’ Phil reckoned Brexit would eventually sort out with a new government but not energy costs. The European strategy of relying on Russia worse and Gazprom cutting their gas supply allegedly for maintenance, Macron told the French it was the new normal. Nowt like a rich cunt telling you to get used to being poor! But at least they offered more short-term assistance.
Hidden Path
Offered a £500 lump sum and 7% more pay, dockworkers at Felixstowe Port began an 8-day strike. Incensed at disrupted supplies, Daily Mail readers decried the communist plot. Wanting a 20% rise but offered 15%, barristers announced an indefinite strike from 5th September. One who used to work in a coffee shop, echoed my line that she was better off as a barista. Urging labour to ‘get a spine’ and stand up for workers, Unite’s Sharon Graham called for co-ordinated or overlapping strikes to cause maximum impact.
Journalists offered 3% at Reach newspaper group (Mirror, Express and MEN) walked out. Further action in September was postponed. Postal workers struck again at the end August and 8th & 9th Sept. At least I could pretend that was the reason for hardly any birthday cards! In a keynote speech to the Edinburgh TV festival, Emily Maitlis said tory cronyism was at the heart of the BBC with former Mrs May spin doctor and adviser to GB News Robbie Gibb, on the board. A record 1,295 migrants in 27 boats, crossed the channel. Only 21 of 52,000 ‘illegal’ arrivals expelled post-Brexit, Nasty Patel launched a Rapid Removal Scheme to fly Albanian migrants back within hours. Yet another madcap idea that would never happen!
Ukraine independence day landed exactly six month after the start of the invasion. Security was tightened, celebrations banned and captured Russian tanks lined Kyiv streets. Boris went to parade with Vlod and get the order of liberty medal – what a twat! Meanwhile, Kharkiv and Chaplyne were shelled and Vlad The Impaler announced a 13% increase in the Russian army in 2023 – a far cry from glasnost on the day Mikhail Gorbachev died. With over 1,000 dead, Pakistan appealed for help dealing with floods. NASA released coloured-in pictures of Jupiter from the James Webb telescope and aborted take-off of the Space Launch System to the moon as part of the Artemis project. Due to a hydrogen leak, more failed attempts followed at the weekend. Cambridge and Caltech boffins made mice from stem cells.
“(They) broke the law and took us all for mugs. If they had any decency they would be gone by tonight” (Lobby Akinnola)
April Fools
Haiga – Threshold
The world ran by a bunch of fools, we didn’t mark the 1st of the month with April Fools jokes. The grocery bill was mercifully not too hefty but the bags were. I cursed not asking for Phil’s help lugging them home. Motivated by persons unknown sweeping the steps at the side of the house, I cleared the gutter Saturday, failing to unblock the end. Cloudy all weekend, at least it didn’t rain during the free Crossings walk and workshop Sunday. In the art shed carpark, The Leader made introductions and dished out notebooks. We set off on familiar paths, noting a profusion of daffodils absent from the riverside 2 weeks ago, along with wood anemones. Returning on the lesser-travelled Crows path, a walker’s action volunteer related its rescue from developers by residents 12 years ago. Back at base, we got free tea and cake. Amazed such project funding still existed, Phil ate 3 pieces. The workshop proved inspiring although I remained sceptical about the over-use of descriptions. Featuring heavily in creative writing these days, I suspected it featured in university courses. Later, I selected photos for the project showcase including a haiga.i
The covid rate at 1:13, Prof Naismith said we were all likely to have BA.2 by summer. Easter hols starting for some, chaos ensued at ferry terminals and airports. Officially blamed on absence and covid checks, the shortages were also due to furloughed staff leaving. Security checks on 220 new recruits awaited, passengers missed flights at Manchester airport and boss Karen Not-So-Smart resigned. 45 buses and 2 Red Cross trucks headed to besieged Mariupol. Evacuation underway at last, a photo-journalist got shot. The Pope criticised ‘dictatorial leaders’ and said the world couldn’t ignore the migrant crisis. As the Oscars academy continued with disciplinary procedures, Will Smith resigned.
Barely able to move Monday morning, after 10 minutes stretching, I got back in bed. Phil looked offended when I didn’t laugh at his larks but I felt too awful. I made a big effort to fetch coffee and the laptop. Going up and downstairs exhausting, pains shot through my head and I became tearful. Covid infections still rising, the list of symptoms now included fatigue, exhaustion, aching, headaches, sore throats, shortness of breath, blocked or runny nose, loss of appetite, diarrhoea and nausea. So all of them! Wondering if I had it, Phil reckoned they were symptoms of living in England. In fact, additions were to stop people going to work with flu. Feeling overwhelmed by a ‘to do’ list, I posted the haiga, dispatched photos for the showcase, and worked on blogs. Except mealtimes, I stayed abed for 3 dull days.
5-11 year olds were offered low dose jabs. Oil terminal blockades by Just Stop Oil and XR into a third day, 100 protestors were arrested in Kingsbury. Lucy Powell called the privatisation of Channel 4 ‘cultural vandalism’. Tracy Brabin feared for Leeds jobs and ‘We Own It’ told Dreadful Doris to keep her hands off.
Less head pain and a bit cheerier Tuesday, I posted an entry on Cool Placesii , stopping writing when head fug set in. Phil went to the co-op. Another power cut meant no fresh milk or veg.
The covid Situation in Shanghai ‘extremely grim’, citizens suffered lockdowns and online food shortages. After visiting Bucha, Vlod addressed the UN security council, saying the worst war crimes since WW2 merited Nuremberg-style trials. Russian rep Vasily Nebenzya dismissed footage as fake and pro-Putin broadcaster Vlad Solovyov said they chose the name because it sounded like butcher. Red paint was poured in the propagandist’s Italian villa pools. Back after a glitch, Jeremy Vine appeared with hand-written signs. As Cuadrilla were given another year to explore fracking in Lancashire, Mike Gammon claimed reports of tremors were Russian propaganda. Err, no, it’s you believing in conspiracy nonsense!
Eking the last of the fresh milk, Phil made porridge on Wednesday and went to the other shop. Working on ‘Home from Home’ (see Cool Places 2iii) took most of my day. After ineffectual quiet time, I went to the kitchen and panicked when I saw no milk, then spotted it in a bag. Prepping dinner together a bit fraught, I left him to it and dossed on the sofa. As he sent off photos for the showcase, he asked me to check details but I said it was far too late to think and went back to bed.
While Boris defended the National Insurance rise to fund the NHS and Goblin Saj pressed patients to return, 6 Yorkshire hospitals warned them to stay away from A&E, unless dying. In the latest sanctions, the UK added 8 Russian oligarchs to the list, froze Sberbank and Credit Bank of Moscow’s assets, banned outward investment and iron and steel imports, and vowed to stop coal imports by the end of the year. Sanctioning Russian PM Mikhail Mishustin and Putin’s 2 daughters Maryia Putina and Katerina Tikhonova, the US also cut off links with Sberbank as well as Alfa Bank.
Better but lacking energy Thursday, we were sat on the sofa when Phil noticed a reply from the Crossings workshop leader, even though he’d only sent his photos the night before. I was incensed until I saw she’d e-mailed me too. Supplies low, I headed to the market in the nithering wind. What a load of rubbish! No loo roll or fish, I got a few veg and went in the convenience store to find reduced chicken and bacon, so not a completely wasted trip.
The energy strategy mainly featured hydrogen, offshore wind and nuclear power. Great British Nuclear had a target to fulfil 25% of demand by 2060, building a power station a year. There was a £30m competition to make heat pumps, and a new round of licensing for north sea oil and gas from autumn, despite UN calls for rapid cuts in fossil fuel use. Onshore wind unpopular, it was encouraged with discounts for affected communities. Keir called it too little too late and: “a cobbled together list of things that should have been done over the last 10 to 12 years…(and) doesn’t even tackle important things like insulating homes…” Kwarteng had already ordered a report into the science and impact of fracking, but said the pause in extraction would stay unless new evidence showed it was ‘safe, sustainable and of minimal disturbance…’ A 23-mile lorry queue at Dover caused chaos on roads surrounding the M20. Suspended P&O crossings were blamed – nowt to do with Brexit! UNHRC threw Russia out. Ukrainian Foreign minister Dmytro Kuleba begged for weapons to save lives and prevent the war spilling over into other territories. Beloved Mr Ben creator David McKee died. My tiny kid-fish brain never clocked there were only 13 episodes!
No Joke
Haiga – The Artist
Friday, I worked on the journal and waited impatiently in the co-op for a man dithering and a cashier fiddling with buttons. Coming to help, Phil had a cheeky search for long-gone chocolate slabs on the easter display. Finding none, he said he’d have to go elsewhere but with 3 bars at home, I told him not to bother. Rising from a siesta, a marked drop in temperature presaged a loud crack of thunder followed by large balls of ice – thunder hail! It soon turned to rain. Enjoyment of dinner was marred by Phil telling me Rishi Rich was technically a US resident until recently, thus not paying UK tax. The scum held a Green Card until October 2021! He demanded an enquiry into the source of the leak. The opposition demanded ministers declared their residency status. Meanwhile, Ms. Murthy said she “understood the British sense of fairness”, coughed up UK tax on her income but remained a non-dom.
Covid rates still high across the UK, they rose in the Yorkshire region to 1:12, but fell slightly in Scotland. Thousands in hospital but not on ventilators, ONS said it was too soon to say infections were levelling off. A Russian missile hit a train station in Kramatorsk, killing 50 trying to evacuate before a full-scale offensive.
Phil answered a door knock early Saturday to be handed an easter ‘goody bag’ from the local carers’ group. Containing a fleece blanket, thermometer, first aid kit, jelly sweets, greetings card, fluffy chick and chocolate bar (making 4 in total), it resembled an elderly care package. Phil joked about sticking the thermometer up his bum. I cleaned the living room and he overhauled the kitchen lights, then rested in a bid to ease tummy ache. His discomfort persisted into Sunday. That didn’t stop him coming foraging in nearby woods. At the wild garlic patch, two women approached from below. Fearing competition, I pretended to take aim but they didn’t stop. Celandine nestled among the extended crop, creating a salad of yellow and green. After filling a bag, I picked up a couple of excellent twisty red branches, perfect for hanging decorative easter eggs. Keeping to the lower meandering path, we magically saw a couple of deer chasing each other. The Victorian stairways carpeted with crunchy leaves inspired the week’s haiga (for a fuller description, see Cool Places).
P&O said there’d be no Dover ferries until at least Friday. Stuck in queues and losing thousands a day, meat exporters called for the prioritisation of fresh produce. Boris went to walk the streets with Vlod and wave – why was he so popular in Kyiv? As he travelled by car, helicopter, military plane and train, a convoy of Russian tanks headed for Donbas. The Oscars harshly banned Will Smith for 10 years.
After posting the haiga Monday, Phil helped evict a mini zoo of larvae and spiders from the bathroom. Having not fixed the mini mixer, he made wild garlic pesto in the pestle and mortar.
High infection rates having a ‘major impact’, The NHS Confederation felt abandoned and urged government to rethink the ‘living with covid’ plan, reintroduce mitigation, and reinvigorate the public info campaign with renewed focus on mask-wearing and gathering outdoors. A Number 10 spokesperson said no; thanks to vaccinations, treatments and better understanding, it could be managed similarly to other viruses.
The Tuesday top-up shop was astronomical again. Was it due to small seasonal additions or rampant inflation? The Widower looked bemused by easter eggs. I advised on vegan options for his granddaughter. The weighty bags made my shoulder ache but it eased off after an unusual 5 minutes afternoon kip.
Smart Energy GB found rising costs led to habit changes and a UCL survey found us more worried by money (38%) than covid (33%). Anxiety and depression levels the highest for 11 months, 51% didn’t feel in control of their mental health. Unemployment fell to 3.8%, but with 76,000 economically inactive, there weren’t more jobs. The Met issued 30 more Partygate FPNs – Boris, Rishi and Carrie Antoinette were included for The Bumbler’s birthday bash. Apologising, he said he only went for 10 minutes and didn’t know it was a party. “He should contest the fine then,” advised Phil, “that would be hilarious in court!” The first sitting PM ever to be exposed breaking the law, the most Covid fines issued in a single street or workplace and more to come, it confirmed Downing Street was full of crooks. Keir said they’d broken the law, repeatedly lied to the British public, were totally unfit to govern and should resign. Lobby Akinnola of Bereaved Families agreed they had no authority, took us all for mugs and would be gone by nightfall if they had any decency. Approval ratings plummeting, Boris reportedly begged Rishi to stay to save Big Dog. Operation Red Meat looked more like mincemeat! Evil kids cartoon villain Michael Fabricant subsequently compared it to nurses having a cheeky post-shift drink, justice minister Lord Wolfson resigned and our MP Craigy Babe said they must go. They didn’t.
Wednesday, I baked an easter cake and wrote. Not seeming long since the last submission, a message from Valley Life had taken me by surprise. I considered the feature almost finished but sifting e-mails later in the week, noticed a word limit increase. How had I missed that for a whole year? I checked with The Owner who also passed on lovely feedback from ‘a neighbour’. Probing revealed it to be The Widower. As earlier rain cleared, I’d have loved an evening walk if I wasn’t dead tired. Instead, we watched a programme on BBC4 about Stonehenge’s removal from Wales – not stolen as the Welsh claimed, but taken by migrants.
Inflation rose to 7%. With pre-tax profits of £2.03 billion, Tesco gave staff 1.5% ‘thank you’ bonuses for coping with pandemic, supply chain and inflation challenges. Pay rises would come in July. Uncle Joe accused Putin of genocide and the presidents of Poland, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia visited Vlod.
Waking with a scratchy throat for the third morning running Thursday, Echinacea banished it. Opening the bedroom window, I heard then saw 2 typhoon jets zig-zagging over the next hill. The laptop misbehaving even after a restart, I persevered with writing but got head fug and hung washing on the line. Decorating Neighbour was sweeping the street. I asked if he’d done the steps. “I don’t go that far.” The co-op bustling, I forgot essential items. Counsellor Friend was stocking up before joining the great easter getaway. With no P&O ferries, railway engineering and airport queues, I wished her luck! Having a nightmare with veg falling on the floor and a cluttered sink, Phil eventually helped. Knackered, I bemoaned an almost-gone afternoon. An item in metro on easter laughter disappointingly contained no actual jokes.
UK covid infections fell except Wales, for the first time in 6 weeks, suggesting the surge of BA.2 had passed the peak. Bonnie Prince Charlie gave out Maundy Money on behalf of the queen. The latest madcap scheme to deal with dinghy crossings involved putting the navy in charge of the channel and sending migrants to Rwanda. Copied off Denmark, there were only 100 places under the ‘migration and economic development partnership’ aka offshoring single black men. Boris said the plan was possible because of Brexit freedoms but conceded it could be legally challenged. Keir called it unworkable, extortionate and an attempt to distract from Partygate. Phil mused it might not put people off: “After all, we’re always being told to ‘Visit Rwanda’ on the footie!” However, interviewees in a Dunkirk camp maintained the crossing was risky but they’d risked much already and pointed out accepting Ukrainians into our homes was double-standards – touché! The First of stricter UK reception centres at RAF Linton-on-Ouse slated to ‘open soon’, bewildered villagers were up in arms at no consultation. More sanctions were announced by the UK and EU, against Russian oligarchs who propped up the so-called Donetsk and Luhansk People’s Republic. Imports of iron and steel and exports of quantum tech were banned.
Bridge of Sighs
Haiga – Inner Voice
After I was asked if the photos I sent for the Crossings expo were mine even with my name on, Good Friday, Phil was asked which object he’d written about. “Can that writing woman not read?” I sighed. He went shopping for the items I’d forgotten and flowers. As he tried to put them in a vase, I took over while he toasted hot cross buns for a hasty lunch. The beautiful roses stayed fresh-looking for over 2 weeks. Wending up to the upland village, we stopped in the playing fields where Phil allowed a rare snap, later garnering several ‘likes’ on FB. In time for a mid-afternoon performance, It was lovely to see the Pace Egg play after a 2-year absence, and also the kids and grandkids of Deceased Friend, for their traditional family get-together. Viewing obstructed, hearing became impossible during the final act because of the chattering classes. What was the point of going if they were more interested in bragging about themselves than listening? We made a hasty getaway and were heading downhill when Phil decided he needed a snack from the burger stall outside the pub. Hearing music, we wandered into the beer garden. Phil commandeered the one free table while I got the second pints of the day. As the novelty act doing bad cover versions wore thin, we retreated to the penfold. A man with 2 dogs hovered at the entrance before letting one loose to run round in an ellipse. He denied that explained rutted soil beneath a picnic bench. Methinks he lied! Despite extreme tiredness, night-time sleep was mediocre.
The next day, the Crossings expo preview invite landed in my in-box but not Phil’s. Narked at doing ‘work’ at the weekend, Phil said it wasn’t work. “It is for them, and on Easter Saturday to boot!” Still tired, I stayed home, hung sheets on the line and cleaned. Meaning to garden in the nice weather, I seemed to run out of time and mislaid flower seed packets. Phil popped to the shops. Town rammed with drinkers but no more than expected, we didn’t understand why this weekend was picked to hold a hipster beer festival. While he was out, I hastily made him a card featuring early spring blooms.
Spring Blooms Card
Birds tweeted in grey pre-dawn light Sunday. I sighed grumpily, wondering what they had to be so cheerful about and turned over until hazy sunlight made sleeping impossible. Dull-headed, I forgot it was easter, then remembered to print the card and give it to Phil with a pack of Haribo’s. He felt bad getting me no confectionary until I reminded him we had stacks of chocolate and he got me flowers.
To refresh fuddled brains, we took a leisurely stroll west on the canal, avoiding squawking geese protecting their nests, admiring showy tulips and chatting to The Biker outside his houseboat. Complementing the restoration of his granddad’s plane, we agreed they didn’t make tools like that anymore. A sign on the chicken farm honesty box helpfully informed us turkey eggs were like hens eggs but bigger! Tempted by a promise of refreshments in the pavilion, we stepped onto the diminutive stone bridge to the cricket club. No match on, it was closed. We rested on an equally picturesque bridge near the lock. Serving also as a crossing point, an arrow indicating Warland, prompted Phil to invent a film plot wherein puritan villagers refused to accept the civil war was over.
Archbishop Welby called the Rwanda ploy ‘ungodly’. Responding in The Times, Nasty Patel said it was ‘bold and innovative’ and challenged anyone to come up with a better idea. How about opening safe, legal routes for migrants? Charities lambasted the Nationality and Borders Bill for not preventing child trafficking. Theresa May later added she couldn’t support the policy on the grounds of ‘legality, practicality and efficacy’ as it split families and encouraged trafficking of women and children. Patel refused to reveal eligibility criteria. Gammons were incensed at small print allowing Rwandans to come to the UK in exchange.
The laptop very noisy Monday, Phil stopped the daft MS newsfeed. Accompanied by music, I started spring cleaning the study, finding the mislaid wildflower seeds behind the desk. Outside planting one in a pot, a neighbour from across the way asked if I knew which cat visited her garden. “They all look the same to me!” Unbelievably, The Great Escape was the best bank holiday film on telly all weekend, apart from Barabbas.
Face-masks no longer mandatory but ‘strongly advised’ in Scotland, spotted without one at a barbers, Sturgeon was again called a hypocrite. Police had words. In their latest covid wave, Shanghai reported 3 deaths bringing the overall total to 4,641 – still lots less than the UK. Shats launched the gimmicky half-price rail tickets wheeze with a cheesy YouTube videoiv.
Tuesday a boring round of chores, writing and shopping, in the evening, I returned a missed call from Aunty. She liked the old postcards of her locality I’d sent her with easter greetings. Found in a charity shop, I promised to send more if they turned up. Using the last of the bargain chicken to make soup, we’d got 4 dinners for £2.50 (and a lunch). The affordable alternative to veganism!
Swiss Toni said Boris’ FPN was like getting a speeding ticket. Ed Davey spluttered that was ‘an insult to bereaved families’. Alastair Campbell contested the claim Blair got a speeding fine while in office, pointing out security disallowed driving. It later emerged The Bumbler racked up £4,000 in speeding tickets while at GQ magazine. In the commons, he repeatedly apologised to MPs, acknowledged the ‘hurt and anger caused’, but insisted it didn’t occur to him it breached rules. Keir said he dragged everyone down to his level. Saying he wasn’t worthy of holding office, Mark Harper publicised a letter to the 1922 committee. Referral to the Privileges Committee and more fines imminent, ministers repeated pleas to await the full Sue Gray report. The economic forecast bleak with the war and covid, the IMF judged the impact on the UK particularly severe with growth down to 1.2% in 2023 because of the ‘triple whammy’ of fuel, food and tax rises. ¾ of civil servants still working from home, Rees Moggy told them to go back to the office. The missive including tables of who was working where, FDA union’s Dave Penman said ministers were ‘vindictive’ and behaving like luddites’, when the private sector embraced flexible working.
On PMQs Wednesday, Boris conveyed 96th birthday greetings to the queen and informed us he was going to India. Keir said once the cameras were off for the public apology, Boris went to his backbenchers to privately blame everyone else and say Welby wasn’t critical enough of Putin, when actually the archbishop said the Ukraine invasion was ‘an act of great evil’. He invited the PM to apologise for slander, getting a flat ‘no’ in response. Ian Blackford claimed 82% of Scots thought Boris lied. While the commons debated the Buildings Safety Bill, protestors complained it didn’t help everyone affected by the cladding scandal.
The NOA found government departments uncoordinated on foreign travel rules with no assessment of the impact on the industry. 1:9 workers in insecure jobs, Frances O’Grady joined Zero Hours Justice’s Julian Richer and Living Wage Foundation’s Katharine Chapman to criticise delaying the Employment Bill announced in 2019: “Boris Johnson has done nothing to show he is serious about upgrading workers’ rights,” she said. 1.5 million cancelled streaming subs. Prime and Netflix the last to go, did it explain splitting the current season of popular Ozark? Just Eat and gambling firm 888 also haemorrhaged customers. A longitudinal study confirmed what I already knew – anti-depressants didn’t improve long-term quality of life.
Holed up in the Azovstal Steel works, Mariupol die-hards worried they were in their final hours and Vlod offered to exchange them for captured Russian soldiers. The next day, Putin claimed victory in the city and ordered a ring around the steel plant. Moscow tested a new ICBM to make anyone threatening them ‘think twice’. Satan 2 wasn’t yet ready for deployment. The Inflow of oil and gas profits bolstering the Rouble, Germany planned to stop using Russian energy products by the end of the year. Wimbledon banned Russian and Belarussian tennis players.
Thursday, I tweaked the Valley Life article, cleaned the bedroom and hung sheets on the line. Bright and breezy, they twisted up but dried quick. Phil went to Leeds just after I went to town for a whizz round shops. Picking up bin-end wine and a ½-price easter egg, I waited in the convenience store for a man chucking stuff in a sack. What looked like a big shop, was actually parcels for delivery. Wanting to linger in sun, pedestrian areas were fully occupied thanks to school hols. A dumb couple stood on the bridge, commenting on the number of bridges. ‘Err, there are rivers, you morons!’ I muttered. I went home to weed the garden. The Widower walked his dog past. Enquiring how he was coping, he replied ‘okay’. The underlying sigh belied his brave face. Thanking him for his nice words to Valley Life, he said they weren’t ‘nice’, but true. How lovely! Out of breath and fatigued, I went to lie down and retired early for a bath that night. Suffering insomnia, the meditation tape eventually sent me into unrefreshing sleep.
The Valneva vaccine was approved for UK use, making 6 in total. A man tested covid-positive on 505 consecutive days before dying, suggesting variants could evolve in persistent cases. Medics wanted better treatments for the vulnerable. While Boris posed in a turban, William Wragg echoed other back-benchers sick of defending the indefensible. A motion to refer Boris to the Privileges Committee carried without a vote. Designs to put the investigation on hold until police inquires concluded, were scrapped. The Met said no fines would be issued before elections 5th May because of ‘restrictions around communicating’. Local candidates included Freedom Alliance – Stop the Great Reset. Their concerns of a global public-private partnership had some validity but not the conspiracy view that covid was a mechanism to control us all!
Sinking Ships
Crossings Exhibit – Installation
Phil had even less shuteye so we both felt unrest Friday. Rushing out, we barely paused to greet new people on the street or admire profusive spring flowers. At the Crossings show preview, project workers and the workshop leader directed us to our group’s work on the outer walls of small sheds. We acknowledged fellow participants and extricated ourselves from an over-friendly acquaintance. Of other exhibits, children’s print work stood out. One kid made a print of Blackpool, cos nothing says nature like Blackpool!
Crossings Exhibit – Blackpool Print
We congratulated the friendly printer responsible on training the next generation. Outdoor displays featuring wood, natural paint and ceramics, were much easier to photograph than indoors where pictures were defaced by reflections.
Art appreciation over, we followed a sign to ‘The Crags’. Previously unexplored, we climbed the curated curious before a protracted return route. A flagging Phil griped of miles to go so we switched to an upper path. I went home to unshod hot, tired feet. He went to the shop, ran into the over-friendly acquaintance again and got yet more ½-price easter eggs (for a fuller description, see Cool Places).
Wanting a trade deal by Diwali, Boris hinted at more immigration from India into high skilled jobs in return for reduced tariffs on British machinery. He also pledged to help them build fighter jets to lessen reliance on Russia but didn’t push Nodi on neutrality. At the JCB plant in Gujarat, owned by tory donor Lord Bamford, he didn’t mention the destruction of Muslim’s homes by their bulldozers.
Drained after a long afternoon out, I stayed home Saturday apart from a trip to the co-op. Very quiet for a weekend, there was hardly any veg but plenty of oil, despite reports of rationing. Along with potatoes, cereal and chicken feed, it apparently all came from Ukraine. Nowt to do with Brexit or P&O ferries! Was the war also responsible for HRT shortages? At the kiosk, my mate’s eyebrows shot up as a colleague told him his pregnant partner wanted a gender reveal party. I observed: “but what if it doesn’t want to be that gender? ‘How very dare you assume my gender before I’m even born?’ It would say.” An eavesdropping woman added: “Nothing surprises me anymore!”(see Tales from the Co-opv).
On Sunday Morning, the hideous Piers Morgan said firms had a dilemma balancing staff being in offices and at home. Oliver Dowdy maintained Boris gave a ‘clear explanation’ of events leading to fines and we should balance that with other matters. In an unfortunate analogy, he said the PM still had ‘fuel in the tank to deliver for this country’. Asked how much more of the ‘drip, drip’ they could withstand, he blathered about focusing on the national security crisis. What was he on about? The war was in Ukraine not the UK!
We went in search of blossom in the park. At various stages of growth, some had already blown off and dandelions outnumbered the cherry. Having noted the music café was rebranded ‘Charlie’s – not attracting the young hip crowd, but OAPs supping a nice cup of tea – we investigated other changes in town. With a closed bank now a daft pub, several ice cream sellers and a pointless melts outlet, Phil remarked: “It’s full of people from out of town selling crap to people from out of town – like a northern Cotswolds!” However, we got more bin-end wine and bargain easter eggs (the most I’d ever had, even in childhood). Coming back, we came across German Friend and empathised on the struggles of processing the passing of friends.
Some tories told MOS that Rayner, lacking Boris’ Etonian debating skills, distracted him by crossing and uncrossing her legs at PMQs. What tripe! She could make mincemeat of him! She tweeted: ‘Women in politics face sexism and misogyny every day…This is the latest dose of gutter journalism..” She later added it was classist too. A colleague said: “Just when you think the Conservative party can’t get any lower they outdo themselves. (They) clearly have a problem with women in public life.” Even Boris decried the piece. Meanwhile, 56 sex misconduct allegations included 3 cabinet ministers and 2 shadows. As ship Albatroz sunk, 47 barrels of diesel created a slick, threatening The Galapagos’ giant turtles.
Haiga – Impressions
Wobbly and heavy headed, I started to exercise Monday morning, when a throat niggle progressed to my ear and nose. Annoyed at a second bout of illness that month, Phil reckoned I’d caught covid at the art show. Feasible, seeing as the last one immediately followed the workshop, but vile phlegm implied the usual sinus lark.
Either way, it rendered me bed-ridden for much of the week, apart from essential chores and spells on the sofa.
After posting a haiga and Cool Places updates, I got head fug and settled down with a book when Phil noisily announced he was going for a rest. I ask you! I slept for 1 minute.
Idiot Epstein informed Jeremy Vine that Rishi was rich because he was good with money. Hmm – It’s easy to be good with money when you have piles to start with! Rees-Moggy put memos on empty Whitehall desks saying ‘I look forward to seeing you in the office soon’. In a rare moment of not talking claptrap, Dreadful Doris called the passive-aggressive bullying ‘Dickensian’. Life expectancy down in deprived areas over the last 3 years, covid was partly blamed. In Kyiv, Lloyd Austin and Anthony Blinken said ‘Ukraine is succeeding’ and promised more munitions. Following weekend attacks on the Azovstal steel plant, Russian strikes targeted fuel and rail facilities. After Micron was re-elected president of France, cops killed 3 protestors.
Tuesday, I okayed the Valley Life proof and worked on blogs. Suffering brain fog, I stopped writing and submitted photos to the larger arts festival exhibition. Phil went to the co-op. Disturbed by the door slamming on his return and loud talking on the street below, so-called ‘quiet time’ was a write-off. As he’d bought 3 kinds of spuds, I cooked loads for dinner, getting backache and narky.
The Bumbler convened Cabinet to invent ideas to address the cost of living crisis without spending extra money. They came up with encouraging more uptake of child and pension credits, cutting import tariffs and childcare ratios and extending MOT’s to 2 years. The Guardian accused them of trashing health and safety. Boris threatened to privatise DVLA and the passport office. Delightfully-named Ian Snowball, landlord of the Showtime bar, Huddersfield, faced a £6,000 fine for allowing a punter to sip ale while standing to play beer pong during restrictions. Talk about disproportionality! IPPR reported 400,000 quitting work due to ill health, leading to ‘terminally low productivity’. Elon Musk bought twitter for $44 bn. Right-wingers thrilled by the promise of less moderation, others feared more fake news, bigotry and conspiracy drivel. After The Insolvency Service began criminal and civil proceedings over redundancies, shit-show P&O failed to further reduce wages. Intending to restart the Dover-Calais ferry Spirit of Britain for freight from Wednesday, The European Causeway lost power half an hour from Larne and limped back. As more weapons were sent to Ukraine, Serge warned of ‘world war by proxy’ and again raised the prospect of nuclear attacks. Antonio Guterres went to Moscow, incensing Vlod by not visiting Kyiv first.
Barrels of Fun
Unappreciated Dandelions
Wednesday, I fetched the coffee, for which Phil tossed me 10p. It disappeared like a crap magic trick. At PMQs, Keir attacked the government’s approach to the cost of living crisis. Boris threw out figures and metaphors. Keir quipped that was his fab debating skills we’d heard about! He then asked ironically if being the only country to raise taxes had made things better or worse? Ian Blackford cited Trussell Trust research that 830,000 children depended on food parcels and urged him to look for ideas beyond the cabinet, such as raising child payments like in Scotland. He could also have cited food parcel demand (up 44% in Yorkshire), 59% of the population making lifestyle changes to cut spending and 18% having no disposable income. Cathy Gardner and Fay Harris won a high court case against PHE and The Cock for discharging untested patients to care homes where their dads’ died of covid. Invited by Daisy Cooper to apologise, Boris insisted they didn’t know the virus was transmitted asymptomatically. Court evidence proved otherwise. A PHE paper passed to Sage early 2020 concluded ‘asymptomatic transmission cannot be ruled out’, another warned ‘pre-symptomatic transmission…constituted a very substantial proportion of all transmission,’ and top medic Pat Vallance said likewise on the Today Programme, 13th March.
Fatigued by the antics, I rested. At least external noise was more ambient this time. At coffee time, Phil cadged from my depleting filter supplies, saying he’d buy me more if I gave him 50p. A bargain, I said he could have the 10p back, which had turned up among the sheets.
Rayner called Lord Geidt clearing Rishi of any wrongdoing an ‘utter whitewash’. Editor David Dillon refused to meet Lindsay Hoyle. Carol Brexit informed Jeremy Vine that 4 tories heard the Ashton MP jest about using her legs to distract Boris. The Chief Whip promised action against a tory caught watching porn. After letting rumours accusing others to circulate, Neil Parish was suspended Friday, said he got onto the porn site by accident looking for tractors but re-visited it, then resigned Saturday. Following more EU sanctions against 50 oligarchs and companies including Gazprom, Russia cut the gas off to Bulgaria and Poland. How did you sanction a company you traded with? Greenpeace called imports of 1.9 million oil barrels since the start of the war, ‘utterly disingenuous’ when the UK vowed less reliance on Russian supplies. GSK reported a £9.8 billion turnover in the first quarter, thanks in part to anti-viral drug Xevudy. Meanwhile, treatments for tremors involved zapping neurons and the first person treated for Parkinson’s with a Deep Brain Stimulation implant, declared a miracle. York councillors divested Prince Andy of Freedom of the City.
Eyes shutting while reading, I hoped to be less fatigued Thursday. Sadly not. Phil went to the market for bog paper (only loose rolls available) and fishy bits. The shrimps were from Holland. Full import checks on European goods further delayed, supermarkets were happy, but exporters facing red tape and ports having built unnecessary infrastructure, weren’t. The benefits of Brexit eh, Moggy? Was that taking back control?
A tweeter thought it fun to relabel BA ‘British Wokeways’ for refusing to fly migrants to Rwanda over fears of a backlash. Charter flights would add to an already astronomical £120 million for the scheme. A whopping £30,000 each, Phil reckoned it’d be cheaper to give people the money to go home. In more commons sleaze, Jamie Wallis was charged with a hit and run, Imran Khan belatedly submitted a resignation letter (after getting another full month’s pay), Liam Byrne was suspended for 2 days, and a female MP was called ‘a secret weapon’ as all the men wanted to sleep with her. Ben Wally said they should avoid ‘toxic bars’ and Sue Braverman claimed there wasn’t a ‘pervasive culture’ of misogyny but some bad apples. Yes, but it only took one to rot the whole barrel! Keir said he took all allegations seriously and hoped colleagues had confidence in the complaints procedure. On QT, Jon Ashworth agreed the cost of living was the most important issue but connected to Partygate because tories were disconnected and dismissed people’s real concerns as ‘silly’. Mims Davies wittered about jobs and floundered trying the defend the migrant policy against accusations of being ‘pick and choose’. After telling Iain Dale Channel 5 had thrived when it was privatised (it was never public!) an unusually sober Dreadful Doris came on Newscast to prate about impartiality and privatising Channel 4 even though 96% were against it.
Friday, Phil said he needed a haircut: “I look like I’m from a Britpop band.” “No you don’t. Mines’ worse.” “It does need colouring in.” “Thanks!” I sat abed writing until hungry and hot, considered getting lunch but he brought it to me. Perhaps staying put was a good thing, because I felt much better on a bright Saturday. I went to the rag market to buy haberdashery from friendly stall-holders then waited for Phil to come to an exhibition of historic photos by a local celeb. On the way, we were waylaid by falling blossom and dandelions. I later created a Facebook album but the dazzling yellow blooms went unappreciated. Balking at a £5 suggested donation, we contributed by purchasing juice. Phil’s photography mate had planned the showing for 2020. They bemoaned work being on hold since covid and I sympathised with his travails being interviewed for a documentary. I could talk for England but stick me in front of camera, I was dumbstruck!
550 Network Rail upgrade projects over the bank holiday weekend, cleaners and conductors’ strikes meant TPE only ran a small number of (dirty) services. Roads were predicted to be quiet. A good job with herds of animals on the M62 at Eccles and Brighouse. Madelaine McTernan who worked on the covid vaccine rollout, was appointed HRT tsar. Demand up thanks to The Davina Effect, I felt I was missing out not taking it.
“In the event that I am reincarnated, I would like to return as a deadly virus, to contribute to solving overpopulation” (Prince Philip)
Barking Mad
Haiga – Pastorale i
Patches of white lay atop roofs on a sunny Easter Monday. Phil slept in while I exercised and did free puzzles in Metro. After a late breakfast of toasted hot cross buns, I posted blogs, just finishing as the skies turned changeable. Itching to go out, we debated whether to visit town for a burnt snack and the virtual duck race, thought better of it and agreed to escape ‘up tops’ instead. Things became a bit fraught as we prepared to leave the house, and I feared we’d miss the next bus. I needn’t have worried. Although it had sounded quieter than the previous 2 insanely busy days, cars streamed on the main road. A traffic jam stretched to bridge. “That’s people not going to the virtual duck race,” I quipped.
Predictably late as a consequence, a few other passengers rode the bus, all alighting in the first village. We got off at the junction of a country lane where adorable spring lambs eyed us curiously from patchwork fields as we passed. At the farm shop, only one customer was allowed in at a time. I waited to buy pop and we stood in a patch of sun, well away from a couple drinking beer and a picnicking family. A large sow snuffled at straw inside the barn behind us. Manic squealing ensued as a litter of piglets clambered and tugged at each other to feed. Mindful of social distancing, we in turn jockeyed for position with small children and a pair of women also peered over the metal gate to witness the spectacle.
Walking down to the clough, we were chased by dogs where the path crossed farmland. I yelled at the woman who’d appeared near the farmhouse: “It’s not on! This is a public right of way!” Shaken by the encounter, we got off their land as quickly as possible. In the clough, straggling family groups and elderly men impeded our progress to the garlic fields for the second forage of the season.
Proceeding home via the bridleway, a horse rider thanked us for standing on the verge for her to pass. A woman accompanied by 2 kids and 2 spaniels walked the opposite way. “Oh no, it’s the stupidest, craziest of all dog breeds,” Phil tittered. One of the dogs broke from the group and bounded towards us.
Braced for another stressful experience, it veered off the path, apparently chasing a deer. I suggested to the woman she put her dogs on leads. “What?” “You need to put your dogs on leads. There are deer here.” “I live here!” she responded. “Your dog just chased a deer!” “Ooh, scary!” she laughed. Angered by the incident and by inconsiderate dog-owners in general, I asked Phil: “I live here? What the hell does that mean?“ “That she owns the place? “Well, she should care more about the bloody wildlife then, shouldn’t she. Cold-hearted bitch!” Recalling the horse rider, I considered it barking mad that dogs didn’t have to be kept on leads on a bridleway. However, owners were required to control them so they didn’t intimidate animals, or people for that matter, on any public right of way. (for a fuller description of the walk, see Cool Placesii).
In the evening, our walking friend texted to ask if we fancied going to another garlic spot the next day. Although we’d just got a pile, I was always up for a new harvesting place and said yes. At bedtime, I was troubled by recurring thoughts of encounters with dogs and the drone of railway engineering works. Hard to sleep, I tried earplugs, then the meditation tape, then the noise suddenly stopped enabling a few fitful hours.
Covid cases dropped 44% and hospitalisations by a quarter in the past week. The Boris Briefing confirmed the next step (or ‘waymark’) on the roadmap would proceed next week. Hairdressers, beer gardens and shops could re-open, with extended hours up to 10 p.m. but social distancing still in place. Covid Status Certification set to be trialled, The Bumbler promised we wouldn’t need them for “the shops, pub garden or hairdressers on Monday.” He stopped short of saying they wouldn’t be required inside pubs in May. 70 MPs set to vote against the Covid Passes, including 40 tories, Rachel Reeves said Labour didn’t see the point with the success of the vaccine programme. Boris made no pledges on travel but confirmed a traffic lights system with more details due later in the week. From Friday, everyone could have 2 tests per week. While we wondered what the point was and where the cash was going, the government said it would be paid for out of the existing TIT budget. So was it a ruse to justify Dildo’s existence? Allyson Pollock of Newcastle University called it a “scandalous waste of money” and warned that as cases fell, false-positives would rise and people forced to needlessly self-isolate.
Egged On
Floral Splendour
After a freezing night, Tuesday also started sunny and cold with a sprinkling of white. Chores done, we planned an early lunch before meeting our walking friend. Suddenly, small snowflakes started to fall. I rang her to say there was no chance of going garlic-picking and parried her efforts to persuade me otherwise. “I knew something like this would happen,” she said, “I thought one flake of snow, and Mary will cry off.” “And I knew you’d try and talk me into it!” We had a laugh and nattered about her new semi-retired life, antibodies, vaccines, and meeting up soon. As a mixture of wintry showers plagued the afternoon, the temperature plummeted. Glad I’d stood firm, it also gave me chance to catch up on editing photos and writing. The din of night-time engineering was replaced by caterwauling on the street below. Thankfully, it didn’t interfere with sleep as much.
As the blood clot issue re-surfaced, Boris went to the AZ* plant in Macclesfield to be quizzed on concerns the vaccine caused CVT*. He directed us to the MHRA* where studies were ongoing but trials on youngsters were halted. He insisted there was ‘no data’ to suggest deviating from the roadmap out of lockdown while SPI-M* warned of a rise at the final stage in June. The Cock claimed Valneva produced a ‘strong immune response’ although this was only based on a study of 153 people. Cases in Chile rose even though 37% of the population had at least 1 dose of Sinovax. Reportedly due to complacency, travel in or out of the country was banned for a month. Concerns over the Chinese vaccine would emerge later in the week. Australia and NZ* agreed to allow travel between the two without quarantine. Here, Border Force claimed 40% of 40,000 fliers into the UK* and 90% of travellers on Eurostar were tourists. The government denied it. Airline bosses moaned that holidays would ‘costa packet’, with up to 6 PCR* tests required (lab analysis making them better at detecting variants than rapid flow tests). Irene Hays appeared on BBC Breakfast to laud ‘sea-cations’ (aka Brexit cruises). The latest Yorkshire fire entailed a recycling pile in Doncaster – what was it with daft fires in this county?
A similar picture Wednesday, I hoovered, wrote and went to the co-op for a hefty top-up shop. School holidays still on, hordes hithered and dithered in the aisles. Obviously too cold for coffee-cupping today! Already stressed, I swore at a young man behind me at the till who didn’t wait for me to move before slamming a box of beer down on the conveyor belt. I rushed to the end where the cashier asked me if I was alright. “Some people just don’t give a shit,” I complained, to which she nodded. On exiting, I removed my face mask. My specs promptly fell on the pavement making me swear again. Hands full, I struggled to the zebra and glared at a speeding driver. He screeched to a halt. I paused at the corner to sort myself out when Geordie Neighbour approached. We walked and talked back to our street, about the weather and the discomfort of extreme walking. I mentioned the ace job his partner had done on the community garden and told him some of the history of the land; we’d collaborated with a couple of neighbours and councillors to rescue it from auction some years ago. Developing neck pain later, I cursed myself for using dam rucksacks when shopping. A massage and shifting into a more comfy position helped somewhat at bedtime.
The MHRA issued new guidance to not use AZ on those under 30. Though not confirmed it caused clots, Jenny Raine said the evidence was ‘firming up’. An estimated 6,000 lives saved and only 19 deaths out of 20 million vaccines given, The EMA* wanted the ‘very rare side effects’ listed on packs and people with blood disorders to consult their doctor. JCVI’s* Anthony Harnden assured us detection of the possible link showed the ‘yellow card’ system worked and it was no more risky than pregnancy, taking the contraceptive pill, or taking a long-haul flight. As the SNP* and Labour ruled out backing proposals on Covid Passes, Keir called messaging a mess: “only a few weeks ago the prime minister was saying he was thinking of vaccine passports to go to the pub – now he says isn’t. One day he’s talking about tests – then certificates. It’s a complete mess.” Ian Blackford added: “the tory position has been mired in confusion and contradiction.” CRG* deputy chair Steve Baker warned the proposed document would lead to a “miserable dystopia of Checkpoint Britain.” However, domestic certificates would likely be wrapped up with nigh inevitable international covid passports, to garner more votes. With only 8% of Brazilians vaccinated, the P1 variant led to 4,000 deaths in a day. More transmissible and infecting young people, it spread throughout South America and across the globe. Deliveroo denied IWGB* claims that hundreds took part in strike action, saying their drivers were happy. Shares rose slightly after a shaky start last week.
Another boring day, Thursday I aimed to do yoga in the afternoon but by the time a heap of chores were done, I’d had enough and lay down to rest instead. The roses Phil bought me at Easter had bloomed into a fabulous floral splendour, providing a splash of colour to a dull midweek.
18,000 new trains were arriving in time for Monday’s non-essential shopping trips. A study of 150,000 people indicated jabs broke the link between Covid and death but the number of hearts on the wall alongside St. Thomas’ Hospital still grew. It was odd I didn’t ever walk that way when I worked there many moons ago. Philippine president Duerte shielded from his staff who all had Covid. As ‘the troubles’ rumbled on, Stormont held an emergency sitting and Brad Lewis went to Belfast for urgent talks. Wednesday night, a bus was hijacked and burnt, and factions clashed either side of a gate on the so-called peace wall, between Shankill Road and Springfield Road. Teenagers threw missiles and petrol bombs. PSNI* fired rubber bullets and water cannons, just like the old days. The next night, community workers formed a human chain to prevent rioters reaching the gate at Lanark Way. Commentators cited a number of causes including a backlash against an IRA funeral last summer, the Brexit border in the Irish Sea and ‘increased rancour in the political sphere’. Loyalists were accused of egging on rioting youths. Interviewed on BBC news, a young man called Joel said people saw Sinn Fein winning and Loyalists under attack.
Adding to the 4 known forces of physics (gravity, electromagnetism, the strong force and the weak force) a new one was allegedly found. When muons were fired into a circular magnetic track, they wobbled. The elliptical result prompted Phil to call them ‘eggons’. The STFC* said it gave: “strong evidence for the existence of an undiscovered sub-atomic particle or new force” but not conclusive proof. Smiley Prof. Brian Cox enthused: “It would be the biggest discovery in particle physics for many years.” Shamelessly touting his upcoming Horizons tour, I laughed: “he’s nicked Count Arthur Strong’s idea. Well, that’s one way of dealing with merciless piss-taking!”
The Final Wipe-Down
Blue Snow
Starting to feel ill the night before, I tried a few stretches Friday morning before succumbing to the inevitable. Back in bed, I worked on the laptop to post a composite of the last 2 foraging trips on Cool Places. Phil worked downstairs, brought me lunch and went to the co-op for weekend supplies. Hoping to catch afternoon quiz shows, I turned the telly on to discover that Prince Philip had died. Incessant news coverage ensued, leading to 1000,000 official complaints. I whinged to an empty room. Accepting they had to do this stuff, I didn’t see why it had to be on all the channels, all the time. The endless cycle of toadying didn’t even include any of the Duke of Edinburgh’s famous gaffes (see example above).
Launching his ‘framework for travel’, Shats used classic double-speak, NOT saying don’t book foreign holidays. The DfT* refused to confirm they’d be allowed from 17th May, said there’d be an initial assessment early May and a review 28th June to see if ‘measures could be rolled back’. Shats admitted PCR tests were expensive and was trying to bring costs down. Jet2 extended the suspension of flights until June due to a lack of clarity. As UCL* modelling predicted herd immunity would be reached in time for pub and shop re-opening Monday, Debenhams was holding a fire sale at 97 stores. Vaccine hesitancy amongst ethnic minorities reportedly dropped to 6%, the Kent virus was now dominant in the USA*, and Slovakia said the Russian Sputnik V vaccine was rubbish.
I managed a few hours kip that night but woke in the early light at 6.00 a.m. Car doors slammed and people prattled inanely. Either the shed people or the flat residents had apparently been to an all-nighter.
Still ailing at the weekend, I only ventured downstairs for short spells. Most of the time, I sat abed, writing and watching telly. BBC 1 still showed interminable coverage of the dead duke including a noon gun salute and a remembrance service, but at least it wasn’t all the channels like Friday. Saturday, I tried to ignore the unremitting chatter of the flat residents in their garden. On his return from shopping, I told Phil it was doing my nut in and suspected it was them I’d heard coming home at 6.00 a.m. “We used to be like that when we were young,” he reminded me. “Yes, but not in a time of Covid!”
Sunday began startlingly bright as overnight snowfall dramatically reflected a blue sky. It was beautiful but hurt my eyes, especially as I attempted to capture the stunning scene on camera. By the time we’d bathed and breakfasted, most of the snow had melted. It became grey and cold as the sun went in. Freezing and achy, I went back to bed and draft-posted the next instalment of the journal. More snow fell later, but the soggy flakes didn’t stick. Although not unusual to have wintry showers in April, I’d never known it snow this late before.
Spoof Poster
Phil ventured to the convenience store in a clear spell, reporting town inevitably busy in anticipation of pubs opening in the morning. News media dubbed it ‘the final wipe-down’ and featured extra outdoor seating sprawled across pub carparks and pavements. “It’s all looking a bit medieval,” he laughed. Inspired to mock the latest government campaigns, my spoof poster only got one laugh on Facebook – what was wrong with people?
I stayed up to watch Line of Duty – or Line of Acronyms as we now called it – just about keeping apace of the lingo as they prated about AC-12, CHIS, OCG and MIT*. I returned to bed with a heavy head as though a weight pressed down above my eyes. The drone of railway engineering works again mitigated attempts to sleep. Using earplugs and the meditation tape, I eventually dropped into fractious slumber.
As vaccinations reached 32m and 7.5m had 2 doses, Phil said only 7 people died of Covid. I agreed that seemed negligible, but figures at the weekend were always lower due to reporting lags. George Fu Gao, head of the CCDCI* said something needed to be done to address the poor efficacy of Sinovax, just above 50%. After his comments went viral, social media posts were deleted and Gao later claimed his comments were misinterpreted.
Rishi’s text replies to David Camoron on the Greensill issue were published; he was ‘pushing for alternatives’ but with ‘no guarantees.’ It then emerged that in 2019, the ex-PM lobbied for Greensill to be given NHS contracts. Drinks with Matt Cock were apparently ‘a social occasion’ so didn’t have to be reported, and broke no rules. Would that be the rules Camoron drew up? He later said he should have used the proper channels. Labour replied that if rules weren’t broken, it was because they weren’t strict enough. In advance of publication Thursday, former tory minister Alan Duncan’s memoirs had already been serialised in The Daily Mail. He hilariously called The Glove-Puppet an unctuous freak, Gavin Salesman a venomous self-seeking little shit, Nasty Patel a nightmare, and The Bumbler an embarrassing buffoon.
*Lines of acronyms:
AZ – Astra-Zeneca
CVT – Cerebral Venous Thrombosis
MHRA – Medicines and Health Products Regulatory Agency
SPI-M – Scientific Pandemic Influenza Group on Modelling
NZ – New Zealand
UK – United Kingdom
PCR – Polymerase Chain Reaction
EMA – European Medicines Agency
JCVI – Joint Committee for Immunisation and Vaccination
SNP – Scottish Nationalist Party
CRG – Covid Recovery Group
IWGB – Independent Workers of Great Britain
PSNI – Police Service Northern Ireland
STFC – Science and Technology Facilities Council
DFT – Department for Transport
UCL – University College London
USA – United Sates of America
AC (as in AC-12) – Anti Corruption
CHIS – Covert Human Intelligence Source
OCG – Organised Crime Group
MIT – Murder Investigation Team
CCDCI – Chinese Centre for Disease Control and Infection
“Boris Johnson appears to have finally learned a lesson about the dangers of overpromising and underdelivering” (Devi Sridhar)
Magic Monday
Haiga – Popping Out i
Very achy at the start of the week, it was a struggle to get up. A typical Monday mired in nasty jobs was brightened somewhat when I took the rubbish out by sightings of the sun and several neighbours. Exchanging pleasantries with the woman next door, the elderly couple emerged for a stroll. We compared health notes. She’d unfortunately had another fall but celebrated her birthday with balloons and an opera singer performing outside. I’d heard nothing from my sickbed on the other side of the house. Phil later said he had. “She must have been good, it sounded like a recording.” “It’s a pity the rest of the terrace didn’t know. We could have stood on our doorsteps to enjoy the magic.” Enquiring if they’d had the jab, he had. She declared “no chance!” “Oh come on! If they wanted to put chips in us, they’d have done it decades ago. And anyway, Google can already track you.” Chuckling, he said: “I’ve told her, who’d want to track us?” “Good point!” I laughed
Forcing myself to rise again on Tuesday, Phil offered to take on the chores. But fed up with so much time in bed, I persevered with cleaning, writing and a trip to the co-op – not too stressful for once. Paying at the kiosk, my member’s card did a vanishing trick. An old acquaintance appeared just in time to indicate its location on the floor. Aching from the heavy load, I rested in the afternoon which helped my back but not my brain.
As deaths were down almost a quarter, a PHS study found ‘spectacular’ hospitalisation reductions of 94% after a dose of the Oxford/AZ vaccine, 85% for Pfizer and 75% in the over 80’s. Schools in Wales and Scotland re-started and Sturgeon announced the ‘stay at home order’ would end north of the border on 5th April with a return to the system of levels.
The anticipated roadmap out of lockdown dominated English news. Following a Commons session, Boris gave a Monday evening press briefing. Calling the 4-step plan a ‘one way road to freedom’, but undertaken ‘with utmost care’ with 5 weeks between each step to assess the effect on 4 ‘safety tests’ (numbers vaccinated, effectiveness in reducing hospitalisation and death, rates of infection, and emergence of mutants strains). He promised no tiers or curfews but said regional lockdowns were an option to supress surges. Warning of ‘trade-offs’ with more deaths and hospital cases, he maintained there was no such thing as a ‘Covid-free Britain’ and we’d have to live with it like flu. I reflected on the lack of a flu season during the winter. That didn’t happen by magic. Had they learnt nothing from the reduction in touching and breathing on each other? Saying they’d be ‘lead by the data, not dates’, The Bumbler proceeded to reel off a list of dates for each step:
Step 1 – 8th March – schools and colleges to open with twice-weekly testing and masks for secondary pupils. Students on practical university courses could return but the rest would stay on-line, to be reviewed at Easter. We could have a ‘coffee on a bench’ with 1 other person and 1 regular visitor would be allowed for care home residents.
29th March – The ‘stay at home’ order ended but we should still keep local. We could meet as groups of 6 or as 2 households outdoors, including private gardens. Outdoor sport and playgroups could resume, capped at 15 participants. There was no mention of going to the office or using public transport.
Step 2 – 12th April – non-essential shops, gyms and salons would re-open, pubs and restaurants could serve alcohol outdoors and self-catering domestic overnight stays were permitted, including camping. Outdoor venues like zoos and theme parks, indoor play areas, libraries and community centres could also open.
Step 3 – 17th May – indoor mixing of 6 people or 2 households and up to 30 people outdoors, was permitted. All hospitality, cinemas, theatres, concert halls and sports venues could open, with half-capacity crowds. Adult sport and indoor classes were allowed. Hotels and B&Bs could open and foreign holidays may be possible.
Step 4 – 21st June – all legal limits on social contact would be removed thus enabling greater indoor mixing, nightclubbing and larger events such as festivals. There was no mention of face coverings or social-distancing rules, although a review was planned.
There’d be pilots of larger crowds and consideration of a ‘Covid Status Certification’ for international travel, later muted to include access to pubs as well as planes. Foreign holiday bookings jumped 7-fold overnight. As The Bumbler confirmed Tuesday that the Glove-puppet would lead the review, he said he was optimistic but “nothing can be guaranteed.” Mike Tildesley warned: “There are certain areas (inner city, deprived)…where vaccine uptake is not high… if we do get these pockets of infection…we could have a more significant risk.”
4 scientists responded in The Guardian. Devi Sridhar said while Boris had finally learned a lesson on overpromising and underdelivering, there were still problems to overcome. She advocated a measles approach to public health, involving vaccines, mass testing and supported isolation. “The imminent risk now is the full return of schools on 8th March leading to uncontrolled transmission.” Jennifer Dowd of Oxford University added opening schools with little mitigation in place was risky.
SPI-M’s Graham Medley maintained: “Balancing the amount of social contact with the speed of the vaccine roll-out will allow us to exit the epidemic with minimal damage from now on. This will not be the end of Covid-19, and there will be more twists in the tale. But the next few months will be a key step in learning how to live with it.” SPI-B’s Stephen Reicher intoned: “whether this roadmap will ensure an ‘irreversible’ lifting of restrictions is again found in the detail.” A sustainable long-term strategy always was ‘and is still’ lacking. He advocated other measures besides vaccinations including improved TIT, resources to self-isolate, common standards to make places ‘Covid safe’ and proper border controls.ii
Merry Mayhem
Snow Moon
I awoke far too early on Wednesday, fatigued and slightly nasal. Phil also felt a bit ill. After a dose of Echinacea, I got going on life admin and writing. During my siesta, I succeeded in 10 minutes’ mindfulness, promptly expelled copious amounts of wind and felt much better all round. Had I expelled stress too? A much better night-time sleep confirmed the theory.
Keir Starmer was exacerbated by another PMQs ‘with no answers’. Quizzed on financial support, Boris called Kier a ‘rocking stool’, said his agenda was ‘paltry’ and advised he wait for next week’s budget. Ian Blackford wanted to know if there’d be another decade of tory austerity. Boris didn’t answer and deflected the question to rant about the SNP wanting to break up Britain.
Following a campaign by DJ Jo Wiley, some people with learning disabilities would be prioritised in the vaccine queue. It was up to GPs to identify them. Neil Ferguson idiotically predicted the ‘road map’ end-date might be sooner than 21st June if the vaccine roll-out exceeded expectations. Van Dam disagreed: “I don’t want to blow it.” USA deaths reached 500,000 but their vaccine programme was progressing at last. Gwyneth Poltroon shared barmy treatments for long-Covid including ‘intuitive fasting’ and infrared saunas. Top NHS Prof. Stephen Powis diplomatically said her methods were “not really the solutions we’d recommend.” Latitude, Reading and Leeds summer festivals were going ahead. Would revellers need a jab passport? What about under 18’s who weren’t inoculated? It could be a merry mayhem of a Covid-fest!
Thursday was altogether much cheerier. We both felt much better and sun streamed through the windows. Phil helped clear cobwebs dangling from the bedroom ceiling. I spent the rest of the day drafting an article for Valley Life magazineiii, adding layers to the Photoshop collage, and going to the market. No queue at the fish van but a limited choice reminded me of Phil’s experience a couple of weeks ago when there was an absence of shellfish. The Fishmonger blamed the famine on Rick Stein telling everyone to eat it now it wasn’t getting to Europe. One of the veg stalls stocked fabled rhubarb from the magical triangle. The sticks fell out of my bag near the riverside steps. Stopping to re-pack, coffee-cuppers and whooping toddlers made me anxious. In spite of my efforts, they fell out again. A hipster behind me said “you need that.” “Indeed. Ever since it was featured on Sunday Brunch, I’ve been thinking: rhubarb!” Emerging from a late afternoon rest, Phil immediately shut the curtains against the dusk as the temperature plummeted.
The alert level down from 5 to 4, the NHS was at less risk of being overwhelmed. The Queen appeared on zoom and advised people to think of others, but didn’t say they were selfish for not having the jab, as the Daily Mail screamed in typical melodramatic style. Emergence of the SA variant in Ealing led to surge testing while Moderna’s tweaked vaccine could be available soon.
Teachers welcomed school catch-up funding to include summer schools, but wanted a longer-term strategy. Teacher assessments were confirmed in place of exams. With tests optional, some warned of inflated grades. Against a backdrop of rising unemployment, The TUC said it was twice as high among the BAME community compared to whites. Asda announced a ‘structural shift’ due to more internet shopping and less cash use, threatening 5,000 jobs, but 4,500 new online jobs were promised. Dodds said councils should be allowed to take over empty shops. Evil tech villain Musk’s skylink provided super-fast broadband in rural areas at an astronomical £89 per month. It sounded spookily like Skynet in The Terminator. Question Time sparked debate on jab passports. What was to stop businesses having their own? Shats tried to defend The Cock’s claim there was never a shortage of PPE, even though we all remembered the mayhem in over-stretched and under-resourced hospitals. Jo Grady called it blatantly misleading.
An almost-full bright moon mitigated against sleep. Even with use of the meditation soundtrack, my slumber was disjointed. Thus I rose later than planned on Friday and had to get a move on to be ready for the Ocado delivery. Unloading a pile of cans and bottles, the driver observed: “Not many people order Mateus.” “Did you know it was the very first rose wine? “Really? My mum used to drink it.” “She’s probably my age then!” Feeling old, I struggled to get the bags to the kitchen, even with Phil’s help carrying the heaviest. “He sounded like a right Rupert.” “I guess he’s had to redeploy with all the hipster bars shut.” Exhausted, I collapsed on the sofa.
Egg Shelf Notice
Unfortunately, I still needed some stuff for the weekend. Hoping to find treats for Phil’s birthday in the co-op, I declined his offer to accompany me. “After all, grocery shops are virtually the only place I can get your presents.” “I don’t mind extra food.” “It’s a good job!” Searching for items, I saw notices on the egg shelf denoting continuation of the cardboard shortage. I asked my mate at the kiosk if could put the trolley-load through. He apologetically but understandably refused. Avoiding an altercation with the cowbag, cashier, I used the adjacent till.
A lorry at shed boy’s place blocked the steps so I trudged the longer way home. Alerted by the evening news to the appearance of a full Snow Moon, we paused film-night to take photos outside. Phil provided expert tips resulting in superior shots to any of my previous efforts.
Unions blasted the decision not to bump police and teachers up the vaccination priority list. Chair of the Police Federation John Apter said: “This is a very deep and damaging betrayal and will not be forgotten.” Was that a threat? Would there be mayhem on un-patrolled streets? Paul Whiteman, NAHT, whinged: “the government has let them (teachers) down at every turn.” Wei Shem Lin of JCV defended sticking to age criteria: “structuring an entire mass vaccination programme around occupations would be even more difficult.”
In an appeal brought by the Home Office, The Supreme Court ruled that ISIS child-bride Shamima Begum would pose a security risk if she was allowed into the country to appeal against having her British citizenship withdrawn. David Davis tweeted it was a ‘disappointing verdict…the UK cannot simply wash our hands of Brits in Syrian camps’. Quite. And why couldn’t they put measures in place to ensure she wasn’t a threat?
Due to a late night, I had a wobbly start on Saturday and stayed in to finish the collage. Phil went to the shop. He was gone so long I got worried and tried ringing but the call went straight to voicemail. When he rang back, I couldn’t pick up! By the time we spoke, he was almost home. He’d unfathomably gone to town instead of the co-op as I’d assumed, dodging coffee-cuppers and queuing in the convenience store. Due to the delay, dinner prep had to start as soon as we’d had lunch. To compound matters, he said he’d cook but I ended up doing most of it, including rhubarb crumble.
Mystery Unsolved
Mysterious Painted Stone
Sunday, I awoke early to blinding brightness then fell back to sleep until 10. On opening the curtains, the roofs looked white and shiny. Confused, it transpired I’d just missed an intense but brief hailstorm. Wanting to go for a walk in the sun, we bathed and breakfasted as quickly as possible. However, it was past 2 when we were ready. I took some recycling out and spotted a child’s ball in the gutter. Kicking it back to dad, he was surrounded by kids, even though he only had one (to my knowledge) thus not all from the same household.
Walking out in the spring-like warmth, we greeted a neighbour sitting in her back garden. Continuing my research into vaccine take-up, she didn’t know when her invite was due. As she was in our age group, I was able to tell her it would be soon.
On the towpath, Phil commented on the emergence of aging drinkers on benches. “They come out of hibernation around now, like the buds.” Very busy in the park, I observed. “Those native Americans knew a thing or two about the Snow Moon signalling the end of winter.” We climbed up to farmland, finding the fields largely devoid of livestock. We noticed ridges on the slope and a man-made water feature at the bottom for the first time. Subsequently consulting an old map, the site was marked ‘mill pond’ and a mill labelled nearby – a reminder that every opportunity was taken to exploit the landscape in more industrial times. Further up, a decrepit border collie lumbered past. A woman with her own dog asked was it ours. “We assumed it belonged to the farm.” “No, it doesn’t.” As another woman stopped her car, they made a phone call to locate the owner. They obviously all knew each other up there! Resting on a bench at the next corner, a veritable herd of old sheepdogs appeared, this time corralled by their owners. On the way down, we veered off cobbles to cut through the west side of the dark wood. Among the curious arrangements we’d seen in August, we noted several stones of a distinct blue hue with surfaces resembling bubbles. Was it brought here by druids from Wales? We also spotted a painted stone in the hollow of a tree base, deliberately planted holly and makeshift hutments. “Someone believes this place is mystical.” The path became tricky on the last stretch with squelchy mud and a strange channel barely big enough for one foot. Nearing home, skinny catkins sprouted from spindly branches above the river. Inordinately tired after the short walk, we agreed it had been lovely to see signs emerging of the turning of the seasons. (for a fuller description of the walk, see ‘Cool Places’iv).
During a mediocre night, Covid dreams featured tenements randomly populated by strangers and friends. I inexplicably took a pizza to Vegan Friend. She ate it before I realised it wasn’t vegan!
Over the weekend, the numbers receiving vaccinations reached 20m. Between them, the EU, UK, USA, Australia, Canada and Japan had 1bn extra doses. Over 100 poorer countries had none. PHE found 6 cases of the F1 Manaus variant; 3 each in Scotland and England, 1 of whom was a mystery – they’d failed to fully complete the form rendering them uncontactable.
In Yorkshire, a family was found camping on the edge of a cliff on The Cleveland Way. Lambasted by coastguards, the police were alerted to a breach of Coronavirus Laws.
“Because of lack of moral principle, human life becomes worthless. Moral principle, truthfulness, is a key factor. If we lose that, then there is no future”(Dalia Lama)
One Day of Spring
Signs of Spring
A wakeful night led to oversleeping. The tedious round of Monday chores and blog-posting done, I dashed to the co-op as a nasty curtain of fine rain careened down the valley. The amount of traffic still noticeable, I wondered who was actually sticking to the rules?
Ministers repeated warnings of tougher measures without saying what. The public urged to keep exercise local, Boris cycled 7 miles to the Olympic park – was that local? Told not to stop and chat on walks or have picnics, The Cock couldn’t say if drinking coffee was allowed. On Newsnight, an ex-health minister pleaded for a cessation of the coffee culture which encouraged longer walks and clustering round cafes. Sage bod Prof. Stephen Reicher suggested halting non-essential building work in residential properties.
Paperwork and butties became big Brexit issues. Bewilderment abounded that not being in the single market resulted in more bureaucracy. Daily Mail gammons were incensed by scenes of Dutch border officers confiscating a trucker’s sandwich, quipping: “Welcome to the Brexit.” It beggared belief that the idiots who voted for it were up in arms at the consequences!
Twee Figurine
Tuesday, I rose woozy with a scratchy throat, but not feeling ill, I persisted with exercise and housework. The day a dry and bright interlude, we went for a walk, via the bakers for portable sustenance. I stood in a warm patch of sun while Phil queued. Already past lunchtime, I would have eaten on the spot if the square weren’t so busy. A hard climb took us to the beautiful wooded road last visited in autumn, then down a squelchy path to the Working Man’s Club.
Among taped-up picnic tables, 2 rough benches stood several metres apart. A pair of men picnicked on one, we sat to wolf down the comestibles on the other. After discussing options, we crossed the oddly frozen small bridge. With no ice elsewhere, a fellow walker commented on the noticeably icier feeling. On the narrow road, we dodged motorists and runners to peer through fencing at the demolished dye works and eyed fat sheep looking fit to burst. Taking the riverside path for the last stretch, early catkins heralded spring and a twee figurine of a shepherd bizarrely nestled in a tree stump. Nearer town, people buzzed around old worksheds: “it must be essential art, ha, ha!”
We came across our walking friends. “We’re not talking to you, cos it’s illegal” I Joked. “We’ve just had a picnic,” she confessed. “So have we,” I whispered conspiratorially, “well, a pasty.” We had a laugh at the ludicrous rules on being able to buy coffee all over the place but not eat al fresco and being allowed to exercise but not recreate. “So don’t be enjoying your walks from now on!” I asked her how things were at work. “Okay. I’ve got a week off and planned a walk every day but the weather forecast is crap.” “Yeah, arctic conditions are set to return. But we won’t be meeting up will we?” Back home, it felt like we’d had a proper walk which was good, but it didn’t help my night-time sleep. (For a fuller description of the walk, see Cool Places.i)
Up to November 2020, the UK had 85,000 more excess deaths than the previous 5 year average, the most since WWII. Taking population growth and ‘age-standardised mortality’ into account, the rate remained the highest since 2008. Chris Hopkins told the commons H&SC committee that the virus peak wouldn’t come until February as those currently dying were infected before December. Supermarkets got stricter on mask-wearing while a new treatment for Covid patients, Interferon Beta, was trialled at Hull Royal Infirmary and Joan Bakewell sued the government over the delay in getting her second Pfizer dose. 28 UK regions weren’t receiving mail as posties were off sick or self-isolating while families got food parcels instead of vouchers.
Marcus Rashford joined the complaints and photo shares showing the shocking quality. Unsurprisingly, they were distributed by Chartwells, part of The Compass Group, the largest food conglomerate on the globe. CEO Dom Blakemore was a major Conservative Party donor – more money for rich tory chums!
Foul outdoors as predicted Wednesday, we stayed in. I was hoovering when the very early Ocado driver arrived, saying some deliveries were cancelled because of icy roads. Badly packed in the carriers (annoyingly not taken back again), I could hardly lift some of them and reported a couple of damaged items. As I unpacked, sticky stuff irksomely adhered to my clothes. Phil came down to help and started larking about. I got more annoyed, declared I needed a break, and stormed off. I calmed down with a coffee and we both settled to work in the living room. Phil spotted a heron on the small mill roof. The phone pictures I took through the window were beyond crap. Top wildlife photographer strikes again! During my siesta, I was unable to rest. The pattern repeated that night, I looked out the window. Myriad lights shone from houses across the valley – what were they doing at that time of night? The pitter patter of rain eventually lulled me to sleep.
Although Covid-19 cases fell to 15,000, a new daily record of 1,564 deaths occurred. Temporary mortuaries grew, the latest in Ruislip set to open at the end of the week. Prof. Van Dam fulfilled his promise, immunising old folk at the Nottingham hub and furloughed EasyJet staff were ‘fast-tracked’ to help out. The Sturgeon used the old ‘spirit of the law’ mantra to announce tighter controls in Scotland around drinking outdoors, click ‘n’ collect and working at home. Closing a so-called ’stay at home loophole’, Scots leaving the house for an essential reason couldn’t do anything else while out. Did it mean they couldn’t take a photo on a walk or stop to look at sheep? Another new variant, similar to the Kent Virus but unconnected, was identified in Brazil. Yvette Coop quizzed Boris on current measures to stop it entering the UK. Answer: negative testing. The next day, a travel ban was announced for South America, Panama, Cabo Verde and Portugal, except for hauliers and ex-pats who had to self-isolate for 10 days. At PMQs, Keir reminded everyone: “He (the PM) told us…there was no need for ‘endless lockdowns’ and no need to change the rules about Christmas mixing…since the last PMQs, 17,000 people have died of Covid, 60,000 have been admitted to hospital and there have been over 1m new cases.” On round the clock jabs, The Bumbler promised 24 hour vaccinations as soon as supplies allowed. He admitted the food parcels were terrible. The Salesman said the voucher system would return next week, as would testing for primary school staff while parents were encouraged to test their kids. He had ‘no intention’ of closing nurseries (watch this space!) Ahead of an Ofqual consultation, imminent BTEC written exams were scrapped and externally-set tests for GCSE and A levels to augment teacher assessments, were muted.
Snowflakes and Sociopaths
Weak Sun
The rain turned to snow in the early hours of Thursday, falling all day with varying degrees of stickiness. I managed a few exercises and changed the bedding before submitting to the sinus lurgy and getting back into bed. Phil brought the Laptop up so I could work on the journal but I mainly dossed.
A PHE study showed immunity from coronavirus after 5 months but evidence it could still be transmitted. Oldham council immunised the homeless. Dr. Chauhan canvassed the government for the strategy to be a national priority. Nasty Patel got the rules wrong for the second time in a week. Previously saying outdoor recreation was allowed, she now incorrectly said you could only exercise alone. Fish rotted due to what Useless George called Brexit ‘teething issues’. Scottish fishers demanded compo. In the commons, Rees-Moggy told SNP MP Tommy Sheppard: “the government is tackling the issue and the key thing is we’ve got our fish back. They’re now British fish…better and happier fish for it.” What a moron!
Merlina the queen raven, missing from the Tower of London since before Christmas, was feared dead after likely foraging due to a lack of bread-bearing tourists. If 2 more flew off, the kingdom would fall but Ravenmaster Chris Scaife assured us there was a spare. Snow slowed jabbing of the elderly on a day of snow madness. Leeds students were berated for having a mass snowball fight on Woodhouse Moor, a stream of cars navigated the tricky sloping bend opposite, Halifax buses skidded, traffic jammed on a treacherous Sutton Bank and a 3 mph car chase ended in the slowest crash ever when a codger with a frozen windscreen ran into a traffic cone. The utterly selfish and inconsiderate behaviour beggared belief in the perilous conditions, unless essential and risked diverting over-stretched emergency services. Subsequent arrests involved people from different households driving over the Pennines for take-away fried chicken and snow-viewing.
The weak Friday sun struggled behind blankets of freezing fog, blazed bright for a few hours then picturesquely peaked through trees mid-afternoon. Still bed-ridden and unable to enjoy the outdoors, I took slightly more successful window photos and wrote ‘Midwinter Spring’ for ‘Cool Places’. Yet another daft Microsoft update required re-starting the laptop. At least it didn’t take all day like the last one. Phil succeeded in getting salad items from the co-op but I became light-headed waiting for him to bring lunch and would have fallen down if I weren’t already supine. In the evening, I dossed on the sofa to binge-watch 3 episodes of Britannia II– an irresistible mix of historical fact and utter nonsense! We also discussed virus fears. Worried by the current situation, Phil assured me the vaccine would save us. But how many would refuse it, for a plethora of spurious reasons? I optimistically cited posts by Vegan Friend, saying it was for the greater good, notwithstanding the irony of protesting against Pfizer for animal testing!
Boris briefed us on the end of travel corridors from 4.00 a.m. Monday. Norwegian Air scrapped long-haul flights from Gatwick, only flying across Norway and to key European destinations – nowt to do with Brexit! WHO scientists arrived in Wuhan to investigate the start of the outbreak. 2 of the 13 stayed in Singapore after testing positive, the rest in quarantine for a fortnight. A day after Debenhams announced the closure of 6 outlets including the flagship Oxford Street store, Whitbread confirmed 1,5000 jobs had gone and Primark were set to lose 1bn in profits. The Torygraph was forced to publish a correction to a ‘misleading column’ written by right-wing sociopath Toby Young in July, saying the common cold provided immunity to Covid-19. His latest tweet whinged about being attacked in London for his anti-lockdown stance. Phil said: “They’re always snowflakes those types. If they were more like Alan B’stard I might have some respect for them.”*
Remaining poorly over the weekend, I wrote and sketched. Phil ventured out in Saturday’s melting snow for fresh air and exercise, reporting the town centre less busy but people coffee-cupping in a cave under the nearby climbing rocks! In the evening, I had an alarming nosebleed. A regular feature of my sinusitis, this one didn’t stop for ages. We concurred it was due to using those awful steroid nasal sprays in the past. Sunday night, I hardly slept at all. Traffic could still be heard at 3.00 a.m., headlamps like searchlights penetrating the curtains. Yet again, I wondered what the f**k was going on!
India used Covishield and Covaxin in the world’s largest ‘inoculation drive’. The LA death rate rose to 8 per minute. Biden promised 100m ‘shots in the arm’ in 100 days and 12,000 a day by next week, in ‘operation warp speed’. Covid jabs in the UK hit 3.8m, averaging 140 per 60 seconds, but there was a hospital admission every 30 seconds. Phil Spector died in prison. Officially of natural causes, he’d reportedly had Covid for 4 weeks.
Sociopath anti-lockdowner Lord Sumpter appeared on The Big Questions. He told cancer podcaster Deborah James her life was ‘worth less’ than others. At least he got challenged by a disabled person calling him out for eugenics which made a change. The themes of snowflakes and sociopaths continued into the following week…
*Note – Alan B’stard was the main character in the satire ‘The New Statesman’ played by the legendary Rik Mayall.
Debilitation continued for most of the following week. I spent most of the time in bed, only venturing down occasionally. Phil also still felt rubbish but kept me fed and watered. Monday, a watery sun peeked between grey clouds, signifying rain was on the way. As the leaves on the trees turned from orange to brown, I was glad I’d captured them on camera before the inevitable fall. Among the writing and blog-posting, I unusually slept briefly in the afternoon which was nice.
Only 11% of people told to self-isolate by TIT did so. It was suggested police get details of flouters from DoH and issue fines. The BMA said it would deter people from getting tested. Wales announced a ‘firebreak lockdown’ from Friday for 2 weeks, officially cancelling Halloween and Bonfire night. Barnier agreed to ‘intensified talks on legal texts’ of the Brexit agreement. What did that mean? Newsnight included an analysis of Kier, declaring him a man of mystery. Diane Abbot blamed his mum for instilling a vision of pre-destination by calling him Kier. A more interesting section featured Margaret Calvert, designer of the road signage. Never giving it much thought before, the clear simplicity struck me as amazing. Subsequent additions hadn’t met the high art standard of her work, particularly the stunted horses and frogs.
Tuesday morning, I awoke from a good sleep to the sound of traffic in the rain, lulling me back into a gentle doze. However, this didn’t help in the debilitation stakes and I remained in bed. Phil went to the co-op for a top-up shop and found a fresh cream cake in the reduced section. Obviously intended to cheer me up, I’d planned a day of healthy snacking but felt compelled to eat it before it soured. “How awful, being forced to eat cream cake.” He laughed. It’s a hard life!
440 people lost their lives to Covid-19 in the previous week, now doubling every week. Awaiting pistols at High Noon, the deadline for Manchester came and went. With no agreement, tier 3 restrictions were imposed, effective from midnight Thursday with only £22m extra, towards local TIT and protecting the vulnerable. GMC said they needed 90m, but would settle for the ‘bare minimum’ of 65m. The government offer of £60m was perhaps churlishly turned down by Burnman who said Boris promised ‘levelling up’ when residents of the red wall voted Tory in the last election, but this was ‘levelling down.’ Even Young Conservatives berated the government for betraying the north. Meanwhile, South Yorks agreed a deal for tier 3, to come into force at 12.01 a.m. Saturday and Ireland announced a 4-week lockdown from midnight Wednesday, aka level 5 of a ‘framework for living with the virus.’
In an idiotic call to business leaders, Boris left after 15 minutes and The Glove-Puppet said leaving the EU was “like moving house.” Capitalists were unimpressed. When would they learn The Bumbler wasn’t up to the job? All he could do was waffle and not back up his hyperbole with concrete action, let alone any strategic planning for life after Brexit.
Black Holes and Revelations
Supermassive Black Hole
I woke several times during the night and eventually gave up on proper sleep on a wet Wednesday, simultaneously fatigued, achy, sneezy, and burpy. Nevertheless, I made a big effort to bathe and dress in time for the Ocado delivery. Able to return bags for the first time since March, I was instructed to put them into 1 single bag. “How many can you squash in there?” asked Phil. The driver then stuffed them into another clean bag. “Bags in a bag in a bag,” I quipped.
By the time we’d sorted the shopping, it was lunchtime. Exhausted by the chore, I took a sandwich back to bed and bemoaned my plight of a spending another week and a half of my life being ill.
On the anniversary of Spanish Flu arriving in Britain in 1918, Keir confronted Boris at PMQs, asking what was the exit strategy for tier 3 areas? Was it related to the R rate? No answer. Metro revealed that the government bypassed Burnman by offering dosh separately to each of the Manchester metro leaders. Bolton was the first to say yes. Marcus Rashford’s petition led to a Labour motion on free dinners for kids during half-term. It Failed to pass, as only a handful of tory backbenchers voted yes. Channelling the SWP, Angela Rayner called a fellow GMC MP ‘scum’. She was right but shouldn’t have said it out loud. She later apologised. Debate on Jeremy Vine the next morning led to us discussing how the benefits system was carefully designed to not be enough to live on. Tory scum either didn’t know this or chose to ignore it when they wittered on about how ‘generous’ it was. In the wake of the debacle, Rashford, fast becoming an icon, divulged information on which MPs voted against the motion and where to get free food. Cafes and councils across the nation stepped in, as did Leeds United, making the government look like a right bunch of c…ts. Over the weekend, pressure mounted as paediatricians joined the call and rival footballer Rahim Sterling founded a charity to help disadvantaged kids.
In what the Daily Mail called a ‘farcical session of the commons home affairs committee’, Police Chief in charge of the pandemic, Owen Weatherkill, revealed he didn’t understand the rules in the different tiers as it was too confusing. Proving his point, he seemed unaware that indoor mixing was banned under tier 2, as did Lancs Police Chief Andy Toads: “The big one for me moving from tier 2 to 3 is your household not mixing with others inside ….” Chair Yvette Coop pointed out mixing indoors was banned in both tiers.
The valley looked fuzzy on Thursday as mizzle obscured the hills. I still felt ill and depressed but had to clean the bedroom. I only managed the bare minimum before exhaustion took over. Following refreshments, I did some work on my novel but had to stop with another bout of fatigue – it would take 10 years to write at this rate! Phil again insisted on doing the catering. I perked up after dinner and settled on the sofa to watch a telly film. But as my sore throat returned and my temperature rose, I had to go back to bed.
TIT still got worse week on week, with a record low of 59.6% people reached, when 101,000 positive tests were reported. Labour called it an ‘interstellar-sized black hole’. Did they mean supermassive? Figures from regions suggested local teams reached 94.8% and York started their own. On Newscast, ex-chancellor George Osborne incredibly claimed the NHS hadn’t been underfunded when he was in charge and took no responsibility for the unpreparedness of hospitals at the start of the pandemic – splutter! Coventry joined other West Mid towns in tier 2. Rishi Rich dished out more dosh for tier 2 areas; JSS extended to cover all jobs, not just ‘viable’ ones; staff now only had to work 20% of their normal hours to get 73% pay (or 1 day a week), and employers only had to pay 5%. Also, £2,200 per month was offered to businesses affected by shorter hours, back-dated to the start of local restrictions. Critics accused him of only extending the earlier offer now that London had gone into tier 2. He promised tier 3 measures were temporary but gave no timescale. Apparently unbeknown to our local leaders, government discussed West Yorks moving up to tier 3. Not reported on Look North, they concentrated on South Yorks, making us wonder anew about the obsession with soft play areas; must be big business in those parts. Maureen, a Barnsley councillor, became the Brenda of the pandemic saying “I don’t give a sod.” (about lockdown).
Friday marked the anniversary of creation, in 4004 BC, according to Archbishop James Usher. “He did the maths,” said Phil, “making everyone well gel hence coming up with all those other theories such as evolution, the creation of black holes and the big bang”. Both still ailing, I spent the day in bedtweaking the journal and the evening watching films.
Croeso I Gymru
Croeso I Gymru
Ahead of the Welsh lockdown that night, last-minute clarification came from the First Minister that supermarkets could only sell essential items. Shopping trolley police on standby!
The row rumbled on over the weekend. The devolved administration insisted stopping supermarkets selling non-essentials was ‘a matter of fairness’ (to small shops). As Tesco cordoned off tampons, they then said the rules were being misinterpreted and were intended to prevent people spending too long in the supermarket – make your mind up!
Fright Night films at Chester FC were cancelled as the cinema screen was in England but the loos in Wales. Heddlu gave notice that they would stringently enforce the border. With Halloween and Bonfire Night already looking dicey in England, Sage bod John Edmunds warned a normal Christmas was “wishful thinking.”
Bright Night
Haiga – Changeling i
I’d started to feel better Saturday but still achy and very cold so after breakfast, I tucked myself back in bed and played around with ideas on the laptop, including a haiga. By 4 o’clock, I was recovered enough to venture down again for a pleasant session of eating, drinking and films.
Mind you, I retired much earlier than usual, even without factoring in the extra hour due to the end of BST. The advantage of this was being up at a reasonable hour on a sunny Sunday. Phil forgot the clocks went back and also surfaced earlier than normal.
Being housebound for 2 weeks and eager to see trees other than those out the window before the lovely colours fell off, I suggested a short walk to a favourite woodland always gorgeous in autumn.
On the main road, we noted leaves already on the ground, soggy due to the rain. A group of young mountain bikers straddling the pavement moved aside for us and exchanged cheery words. Turning up a lane, we found a shortcut to the wood, where the rocks matched the trees, smudged in green, red, orange and copper. Microsoft ICE cobbled together an inaccurate panorama, that captured the mood of the scene. A locked gate meant we were unable to take our usual shortcut through a posh garden and were forced to climb up a horrid stony path. The lane at the top was very busy with walking groups. We tarried near the wall where tiny moss worlds grew, before continuing up. Phil complained the incline never ended. “That’s right,” I told him, “it goes right up to the sky!” We proceeded into the next village for a rare pub visit. I took a table outside while he went in to order pints, brought out by the daughter of a friend. She’d left her previous job after 16 years and I asked why. “Just needed a change.” Phi had trouble scanning his card so donned the mask again to pay inside – at least they took cash too unlike some places
Supping the beer, my hands got cold and I was glad of the gloves in my pocket. Grey clouds threatened rain, then they parted and it became bright again, albeit with not much daylight left. The ale went right through me, thus It was my turn for the palaver of face-coverings to go to the loo. We walked back quickly before twilight. In the longer night, a wobbly moon set behind the trees atop the hills.
Watching the news, we realised we had been very lucky with the weather. The rest of the UK had suffered more rain while the valley remained dry for once. Coppers told a Manchester pub that a large slice of pizza didn’t qualify as a ‘substantial meal.’ Since when were they dinner police? With only 11% complying, a reduction in self-isolation advice was being considered, to 10 or 7 days – where was The Science to back that up? Spain was the first European nation to reach over 1m cases, and introduced a state of emergency until May! Italy opted for a looser lockdown; table service would stop at 6, gyms would shut, and people discouraged to move around, leading to a violent protest in Rome. A group of 7 ‘violent’ Stowaways tried to hijack the Nave Andromeda, a ship anchored near the IOW. After a 10-hour stand-off, the SBS intervened to rescue the crew.
Tired from the walk, I couldn’t sleep that night. Brightness had returned, prompting me to peep through the curtains. Stars twinkled in the deep indigo sky, accompanied by the distinctive red dot of Mars.
The Corvus Diaries 