“To use a non-technical term, that’s pretty much bollocks” (Gillian Tett)
Unknowable
Saturday breakfast stressful, Phil took over. Accusations of inefficiency were a tad unfair given his new job. Still doing extra hours, he didn’t know for how long, but at least he enjoyed my lamb tagine after late weekend shifts. “I should hope so! I made it special so you’d have something tasty and warm.” Unfortunately, I couldn’t help with fatigue. Tired for different reasons, I pushed myself along the canal and round the park Sunday, found flowers and foliage, an edible apple among munched windfall and the squat boarded up. They Anarchists were gone by November. In the co-op, I got reduced items and a cheery greeting from Geordie ex-neighbour. Back home, I developed a headache but at least I’d had fresh air.
About to bathe Monday morning, Phil said I should’ve done so an hour ago. “Fascist!” I wrote until unable to focus and fuggy-headed and did yoga. Waking lots early Tuesday, I ended up oversleeping and became despondent at so many chores to do. Needing supplies again, I headed out. The alt therapy woman walked a few paces ahead, engrossed on her mobile and waving imperiously. In the co-op, she curated her basket in a way suggesting she wasn’t struggling like some of us – strawberries in October, FFS! A man fiddling under chiller shelves meant I couldn’t even get basic veg but did find a large bottle of cooking oil cheaper. Calling the surgery again, the answerphone said they were shut for staff training with no info as to when they’d re-open. Phil got home for a late lunch, saying he’d brought the rain with him. “Don’t sing another song!” Radio 2 on all day in The Store, he couldn’t help himself.
Pouring all night, low mood made it hard to be bothered about anything on a damp Wednesday. Phil again harassed me into bathing then interrupted my writing to say he’d better get ready for work. I’d forgot he was starting early, hastened lunch, and visited Walking Friend. The pretty fallen leaves made the steep steps slippy even in sturdy boots. I found her knitting, handed over the clean scrunchy and listened to her work woes over a cup of Earl Grey. Martin Green of Care England said without a complete restructure of the social care system, millions could be left without support and the NHS would be ‘on its knees’, so I wasn’t surprised to hear of low morale, exacerbated by increased workloads and pointless online training. I made suggestions and diverted her with other topics, when a text arrived saying she had a staff meeting on her day off. “You always have a choice, you could walk into another job tomorrow if you wanted.” I shared what I’d learnt about state pension eligibility to discover she wasn’t paying National Insurance. Now also on a low wage, Phil agreed the system was rigged to disenfranchise people and she should opt back in. Feeling sleepy, I accepted a second cuppa before dodging dog-walkers on the steps. Phil slept in the next 2 days. I took over breakfast apple art. Gracious about the browning butterflies Thursday, he unkindly laughed at Friday’s effort.
Having arranged to meet at The Tearooms, Walking Friend cancelled to hike with The Poet. We decided to go out anyway. I went ahead to buy cinema tickets for the first time in 3 years. Unable to process an extra discount at the box-office, they said they no longer recognised the PTL orange dot. Who knew what it was good for now? They kindly granted me the concession and gave me a CCA form for next time but I was ineligible – quelle surprise! I hung around for Phil and we perused the Greasy Spoon menu. Unsure if they served all-day brekkie, we opted for pies instead, listening sympathetically to Deli Woman’s travails of filling a vacancy. You just couldn’t get the staff nowadays! We ate in the park and ascended to woodland. A bumper year for conkers, we found none but plenty of toadstools (see Cool Placesi). On a wet and grey Friday, I did boring admin and the weekend shop. Phil went to the kiosk while I paid at the till. The reader wouldn’t scan my MasterCard or accept the PIN for some unknown reason. As a man stood right behind me, I got flustered, lost confidence in knowing the number and used a different card. In my panic, I missed Phil sneakily picking up all the bags which he insisted on carrying as practice for work.
Baroness Halibut promised victims would be at the heart of the covid public inquiry. Rising 14% in a week, it was unknown if 1.3m cases was a winter wave. Increasing among over 70’s, we should avoid the vulnerable and get boosted. Of 1 million Brits with long-covid, 514,000 had it for 2 years. Growing since lockdowns, Councillor Friend told Look North there’d be changes to hazardous street furniture in Toy Town. Ostensibly turning pink for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Girls Aloud launched Primark nightwear.
Larry the cat eschewed a stroking from Trussed-Up as she met the Danish PM outside Number 10. In Brum for the tory conference, she admitted to Laura K the kamikaze budget caused disruption, and shock announcements could’ve been handled better but repeated it was everyone else’s fault, threw Kwasi Modo under the bus saying he decided to scrap the top income tax rate and attend a hedge fund managers’ champagne reception the evening before the pound tanked: ‘I don’t control his diary’. She didn’t mention Melton Mowbray pork pies going under. NOT taking back control of pork markets? That. Is. A. Disgrace!
Noncommittal on benefit cuts, she said Coffee-Cup was looking at it and Kwasi was sorting everything else. The Glove-puppet and Shatts both lambasted ‘Trussonomics’; the latter predicting a commons revolt. A U-turn on the top tax rate and release of forecasts came after a late-night meeting. Only knocking £2bn off the bill and other unknowns in the pipeline, markets remained jittery. Having a tough Monday, Kwasi reiterated commitment to growth, evaded a direct apology but ‘humbly’ accepted cutting high earner’s taxes was ill-judged. Meanwhile, Tory chair Jake Berry told Sky News the answer to soaring bills was to ‘either cut consumption, get a higher salary or go out there and get that new job.’ Chris Bryant retorted: ‘Do tories think people haven’t tried this?’ Division in the ranks, Mordor said benefits should go up with inflation rather than wages, Swellen accused them of coup-plotting and Trussed-Up repeated they hadn’t decided before posing in a hard hat and Hi-Viz at a Selly Oak factory. At fringe meetings, Swellen couldn’t wait to deny migrants arriving in dinghies the right to seek asylum: it was her dream to see a plane-load heading for Rwanda on The Torygraph cover before Christmas! POA called Manston processing centre a ‘pressure cooker’, with channel-crossers illegally held for a week rather than 48 hours, running out of food and water and police called. Rees-Moggy urged shoppers to ignore a new law banning sweets near supermarket tills to save the choc orange. Good to see him focused on important issues, he probably disapproved of Quality Street ditching iconic plastic wrappers too!
Striking Post office staff were joined later in the week by 999 call-handlers. Yorkshire bus services cut, government capitulated on Northern Poorhouse rail going to Bradford. South Eastern would axe first-class carriages and water jets would clear pesky autumn leaves from Northern Rail lines in Yorkshire but not here. Warned it needed to ‘drastically improve services’, Avanti West Coast was given a 6-month extension. How bad did they have to be to lose the franchise? Tories left Brum early Wednesday before Trussed-Up’s address. Allegedly due to the biggest rail strike yet, postponed from September, or because they were fed up of the febrile atmosphere. Playing dress-up in a red frock like Emma Thompson’s Years and Years right-wing PM, Truss said she was willing to take difficult decisions to get the economy moving and change meant disruption but would benefit everyone. The short-lived abolition of the top tax rate a ‘distraction’, she’d listened to people and wouldn’t allow the ‘anti-growth coalition’ to hold her back. She sounded like a right tin-foiler, lumping together Labour, Lid Dems, ‘militant’ unions, Brexit-deniers, XR and Greenpeace (who were ejected for intrusion) and aped Thatcher saying they were ‘wrong, wrong, wrong’. Cabinet ministers cock-a-hoop, M People founder Mike Pickering was ‘livid’ at her entrance to Moving On Up, advising she heed the lyrics: ‘go and pack your bags and get out.’ Jeffrey Archer told Jeremy Vine she picked ministers based on friendship not talent, unlike Thatcher who only had 4 mates in Cabinet. Conor Burns was sacked as trade minister for serious misconduct (inappropriate behaviour towards a young man at conference). He’d ‘fully co-operate’ with an inquiry to clear his name. Spice Girl Mel B tweeted: ‘Really?? Your shocked about this complaint??? Let me remind you what you said me in lift…’ Not knowing if it was arrogance or disrespect, Nicola Sturgeon complained it was ‘absurd’ Truss hadn’t rung a month into the job.
Dropping over summer, Fareshare urged supermarkets to donate more surplus food. It’d be better if government faced the fact that people couldn’t afford groceries. Prices soaring, service sector growth stalled, Tesco half-year profits fell 10% and average mortgage interest reached a 14 year high 6.07%. The IFS predicting Trussonomics would make 99% worse off, Shell boss Ben van Beurden wanted to be taxed more to prevent damage to ‘significant parts of society’. Later revealing last quarter profits of £8.2bn (a £26bn total for 2022 so far), they’d paid no windfall tax as profits weren’t technically made in the UK. Amidst unknown variables, Ofgem warned of a winter gas emergency and prepared scenarios (rationing and blackouts). National Grid later said it’d probably be alright and On QT, Nads Zahawi said 3-hour outages were a worst case scenario. Why scaremonger then? Not wishing to tell us what to do, Downing Street refused to launch a public info campaign, but telly ads appeared the following week. Northern PowerGrid e-mailed a priority list and onesie sales rocketed. As Nads said inflation was all Putin’s fault, Piers Morgan had heard it all; even the dead queen was more culpable of crashing the economy than tories! Also delayed by Queenie dying, Kingy and Camilla went to Dunblane as the erstwhile Scottish capital was belatedly conferred city status. Despite the sham poll, Ukrainians retook the town of Lyman in Donetsk. Bags of drugs labelled Dior turned up on a Welsh beach. Cocaine galore!
Trick or Cheat?
Overnight rain led to window condensation Saturday. Not dispersing in sunshine, the chamois turned black doing the box room. Phil admitted it needed a proper clean. Despite moderate drinking, I had a slight headache. After coffee, Phil asked had I got over my binge – ha, ha! He agreed it wasn’t ideal working weekends but it did get us out of the habit of wine-drinking every Friday and feeling crap Saturdays. Taking an age to do blogs amid brightness and interruptions, I lost my thread, got angry, developed head fug and considered gardening when a cool wind arrived. Phil’s haircutting stalled when the clippers broke again. We thought we might need a trip to Big Town for new ones. We ate a hasty dinner to find the cinema had tricked us on the start time. I bought tiny cans of beer from The Oil Painter, remarking on artists resorting to menial jobs – It’s a shit business! We took our booked seats to watch a parade of ads and trailers before the main feature, Moonage Daydream. While some montages were a bit weird and tracks truncated, the David Bowie doc wasn’t the mish-mash Phil expected. I advised he stop reading Guardian reviews. Unseen footage featured La La La Human Steps practicing dance moves. Phil reckoned Bowie turned up to play 2 notes at their performance we saw years ago. So I had seen Bowie live and didn’t know it. “Now you tell me!” It was Phil’s turn to feel fuzzy Sunday. Was it the small beer or the brightly-colourful cinematic experience messing with his head? As he prepared for a late shift, I headed to town, hailed The Woman Next Door with a man near the old bridge, collected fallen leaves and went to an art exhibition. Hoping to see Welsh Art Friend, I saw only The Printer. We discussed her seaside prints until some of her mates turned up. I went charity shopping for books, DVDs and a throw. Phil brought home out-of-date bread destined for the bin.
Waking with a claggy throat Monday, I made soothing porridge, forgot spoons and irritated Phil straightening out bedding. A bad start to the week, I soldiered on, washed the throw to dry quickly on the line, getting knackered clambering up and down stairs. Tuesday, I cleaned rusty marks from plumbing tools on the landing windowsill. I left them upstairs to adjust the stiff bath tap but when Phil returned from an early shift, he tetchily blamed my technique. “Don’t talk to me like that!” “Okay, I’ll have a look.” A cricket landed on me at the co-op ATM. As I attempted a rescue, the small queue crowded round. “Is it a grasshopper?” Only in Toy Town – I’d be tutted at in the city! Inside, my namesake hunted for reduced face cream when a colleague said she’d bought it all. What a mean trick! A group of lanyard-wearing teenagers laughed in the aisles, ironically singing ‘praise Jesus’. I lugged the heavy, pricey items home as Phil got back, yawning and sighing: “I’m tired.” “Really? I wasn’t getting that!”
Early Wednesday, a niggly nose joined the sore throat. Succumbing to illness, I took Echinacea and sucked a pastille. Phil eventually asked what was wrong. “It could be the cold you’ve been in denial about all week.” “It’s not a cold, it’s a cough.” “Well, it could be the usual sinus lark. I haven’t had it for 3 months.” I wondered if the record gap was due to more antibodies, the hot dry summer, or DIY. “Doing stuff is good.” “Yeah, but I’ve felt iffy a few times since. Maybe it was bubbling under. I’m staying abed so don’t hassle me, but I need a bath.” “You’ll have to get up for that.” Cleansed, I fetched coffee and the laptop and watched PMQs. Absurdly only Trussed-Up’s second began with tributes to David Amess a year since his murder and 10 victims of a petrol station explosion in Creeslough Donegal. A backbencher guessed spooking the markets was incompetent not malevolent, but reneging on no-fault evictions was vicious. A less forgiving Keir asked if Truss agreed with Rees-Moggy telling us the crisis was nowt to do with her fiscal plans. She replied with the usual guff on taking decisive action, protecting the economy, higher growth and lower inflation. Kier spluttered she was lost in denial, with mortgages sky-rocketing, the public wouldn’t forgive or forget and nor should they; it was time to stop the kamikaze budget causing so much pain. After parroting herself, she blamed Vlad for global price rises, Keir for not supporting the energy price guarantee (he reminded her it was initially labour’s idea) and said he had a Damascus moment supporting the National Insurance reversal (which he always opposed). Asked if she’d stick to no cuts, she promised to spend wisely instead. One step behind the Shell boss on windfall taxes, he wondered why she insisted on tax cuts for the rich? After more resay, she whinged his union mates stopped people getting to work. Ian Blackford asked if the incompetent PM would give up her plan to save the chancellor by scapegoating the BOE – completely losing control, the only things growing were mortgages, rents and bills; was that what she meant by growing the economy? As she threw queries back (unchallenged by The Speaker who scolded Boris all the time for that), Blackford sniped if she wanted to ask him questions, they could swap places, to much mirth.
Phil fed me cute cheese on toast faces, like a nursery tea. Unable to go to Big Town, I spent ages ordering from the cranky Boots website A singing Phil irksomely woke me at 5.50 a.m. Thursday. I slept fitfully until 9, cleaned the bedroom and doubled up the long and narrow new throw into a bedspread. Hot, tired and legs leaden, I worked on blogs. About to upload, the laptop decided there was no internet. I turned it off and waited eons for stupid MS to update and re-start, only to be bugged again the next day. Phil returned from a shelf- stacking shift wearing his lovely new logoed sweatshirt (he had a fleece too). After resting, he asked if he’d missed any news. “Tories saying we’re all doomed!” Friday, lovely orangey-pink dawn clouds tempted me up. Phil offered to help with the weekend shop. With a short list, I said I’d be ok, but it was an ordeal with heavy bags and the reader not authorising my card again. Oblivious to my huffing and puffing, Phil went to work and I went back to bed. Getting home promptly from the late shift, he didn’t know why they bothered for a few drunks and stoners.
Kuoni’s Thai bookings 87% higher than pre-pandemic levels, covid tripled during a week-long Chinese holiday, meaning more lockdowns and travel restrictions. 1.7m infected by the UK’s 4th wave this year, admissions increased 76% and 30% caught it in hospital, like in 2020. Stephen Griffin of Indy Sage fretted about NHS pressure. Reasonable uptake of autumn boosters, all over 50’s could book one (in theory) but Griffin wanted more eligibility.
NAO’s latest assessment put covid support losses at £4.5bn. PAC chair Meg Hillier urged government ‘get a grip‘ on fraud and loose controls. David Jason revealed he couldn’t move his limbs when he collapsed with covid during the summer.
ONS data showed wages fell 2.9% in real terms. Banker’s bonuses rising twice as fast since the 2008 crash, The TUC said government should raise the minimum wage to £15, give public sector workers more and encourage fair pay deals for others. Acknowledging the gap, a wheeled out Coffee-Cup repeated the hollow mantra of helping families with the cost of living. Unemployment at 3.5% but record vacancies, people were too ill or stopped applying for hard low-wage jobs like social care. CQC found 300,000 empty posts, leaving 1 million needy adults without care and 3 in 5 blocking hospital beds. As the economy shrank, consumers bought wonky fruit and veg, air fryers, electric dryers and candles, cutting bills and risking fire. School meal costs up 30% and 91% of providers experiencing food shortages, Laca wanted more money for a sector ‘on its knees’. Promising ideas on how and support, Ofgem ridiculously advised we reduce energy consumption. French EDF and Total workers on strike, Micron said they should be paid more. While M&S sped up closure of 110 larger stores, Pret A Manger staff would get a third pay rise of 5% in December. Strikes into a second week, Hull Stagecoach drivers paid less than colleagues in other regions were offered 14%, They wanted 17%. ACAS fruitlessly stepped in but Network Rail’s Tim Shovellor saw a glimmer of hope in talks with unions. Rejecting 2% and a £345 lump sum, Environment Agency staff were balloted.
In Scotland for the SNP conference, ex-chancellor Alistair Darling told Laura K. the government’s actions were ‘a textbook example of everything you shouldn’t do in difficult times’, economic turmoil was self-inflicted, they trashed the UK’s reputation and cost us dear. Nads Zahawi called Sturgeon saying she detested tories and everything they stood for, ‘really dangerous language’. Good grief! It’d be hate speech to hate Fascists next! He advised the ranks unite behind Truss, or risk a hideous labour/SNP coalition. Jon Ashworth spluttered that was ‘complete and utter nonsense and desperate.’ Vowing to hold a ref 19th October 2023, Sturgeon told conference independence was vital with labour: “willing to chuck Scotland under Boris Johnson’s Brexit bus to get the keys to Downing Street.” In The House, the government won the National Insurance vote but select committee chair Mel Stride, warned Kwasi Modo he had to win over MPs to prevent more alarm. Dubbed ’Operation Re-assurance’, Modo’s growth plan and the OBR’s economic assessment were forwarded a month to 31st October. Halloween too late to settle spooked markets, Rayner tweeted it was more like Trick or Cheat: ‘the tory horror show rattles on’. IFS reckoned they needed £60bn in spending cuts, Citigroup predicted a worse crisis than 1976 and we observed tories were always in power when the lights went out! Meanwhile, Trussed-Up went to play footie with the Lionesses.
Accepting the global energy crisis affected Europe more, the IMF again criticised Modo’s plans as a slow-down would follow any short-term growth, and likened the UK government and BOE to 2 drivers ‘trying to steer the car in different directions’. Aides combing through the mini-budget line by line to see what could be changed, a cap on renewable energy firm revenues was mooted – not a windfall tax thus not a U-turn. Phil reckoned non-renewables weren’t covered as a sop to their rich mates. BOE bought more gilts to prop up the shambling economy but wouldn’t extend the scheme beyond Friday. The pound plummeted. Modo blamed the war and pension funds for risky purchases. Err, that’d be dodgy government bonds then, you moron! Rachel Reeves hit back: “This is a British crisis made in Downing Street. No other government is sabotaging their own country’s economic credibility…”
Rees-Moggy accused Michal Hussein of breaching BBC impartiality saying the mini-budget crashed the economy and gaslighted the BOE for not raising interest rates enough. FT journalist Gillian Tett told Channel 4 news: “‘to use a non-technical term, that’s pretty much bollocks.” He was also contradicted by Kwasi Modo at the IMF in Washington Thursday. Admitting he’d made markets nervous, he wasn’t going anywhere as the G7 all had similar problems. IMF MD Kristalina Georgieva told him and Andrew Bailey they needed clear policy coherence and communication to prevent more jitters in a jittery environment: “fiscal policy should not undermine monetary policy…(or) the task of monetary policy…becomes harder and it translates into…further increases of rates and tightening of financial conditions…If the evidence is that you need to recalibrate, don’t prolong the pain.” A cacophony of backbenchers screaming: ‘it’s checkmate’, ‘we’re stuffed’, ‘it’s dire’, ‘we’re done for’ and frantic calls across the pond, Modo hid in the toilet then flew back to London. Traders betted on a U-turn, Kwasi gone by the weekend and Trussed-Up finished within weeks. James Uncleverly said it’d be a bad idea and Alistair Campbell said an out-of-depth Truss couldn’t do the job. She went to see Kingy, who chortled: ‘Back again? Dear, oh dear!’ and sacked Modo Friday, making The C**t the fourth chancellor since July. Saying they’d moved too fast, they kept the corporation tax rise, as Rishi planned. Spreadsheet Phil reproached them for throwing away years of hard work and Reeves said: “Another change isn’t the answer…it’s time for a labour government.”
On a lighter note, Coffee-Cup evaded questions on scrapping smoke free targets, saying she was concentrating on her ABCD. Blood transfusion levels critical, B should stand for ‘blood’. Wes Streeting called her ‘clueless and hopeless’. Artist robot Ai-Da answered pre-prepared questions in The Lords saying AI in creative industries were a threat and an opportunity. NZ proposed a tax on animal burps and pee. Did they not want food production? Farmers later held street demos. Staid conservation groups the National Trust, RSPB and Wildlife Trusts united to protest violation of the countryside, write letters and ‘all options on the table’, didn’t rule out direct action. Motorists dragged Just Stop Oil protestors off London roads, 24 were arrested and 1 went to hospital. 300 involved by the 11th day of action, an irate electric taxi driver told road-blockers he was doing his bit. As they blocked The Mall, Mark Rowley said they’d not yet caused sufficient ‘serious disruption’ to warrant forcible removal. Anglian Water planned to build the UK’s first new reservoir in 30 years. About bloody time!
Cops co-ordinated operations to smash 172 county lines, find 321 weapons and £2.7m in drugs and make 1.360 arrests, including for modern slavery. The Met investigated 625 sex and domestic abuse claims. Ahead of Asylum Aid’s Rwanda High Court hearing, 1,604 channel crossings Sunday-Monday made 2,232 for the month and 35,000 for the year. In a dig at Giorgio Melon, Popeye called the exclusion of migrants ‘scandalous, disgusting and sinful’. Saturday, The Kerch Bridge linking Russia to Crimea, blew up when an exploding lorry set oil tankers alight. Vlad ordered a full investigation and Russian media blamed Ukrainian ‘terrorists’. Err, there’s a war on! Retaliative shelling of Ukrainian cities including Kyiv and memes of battle dolphins ensued. The bridge was fixed by Wednesday and 8 suspects detained. Japan’s Epsilon 6 rocket was ordered to self-destruct after launch. JAXA apologised and investigated. X-ray radiation from a gamma ray, the brightest ever discovered, still emitted an afterglow of rings weeks later. One-time WRP member Vanessa REDrgave became a dame, Ant & Dec missed yet another NTA due to covid, and Gaslight inventor Angela Lansbury died. Glasgow cheated, Liverpool would host Eurovision 2023.
Jokers and Wasters
Saturday, Phil joked: “Is she gone yet?” “No, but The C**t was on BBC Breakfast.” Marking an end to Trussonomics, he said they’d be judged on the next 18 months, not the past 18 weeks, blamed the usual culprits of the war and energy meaning no fast tax cuts or increased spending and all departments making efficiency savings. 4 chancellors since July (Saj, Nads, Kwasi Modo, The C**t), resembled the 4 stooges. “They’re running out of credible people. If it goes on like this, I envisage a crap Netflix.” “Yep. The Downfall UK. A satirical comedy with fake ‘where are they now’s’ at the end: in a loony bin; in the sea; in an Amazon warehouse; working for Deliveroo!” “I bet lots of them red-wallers want it to end so they can go back to sane jobs.” Still ailing, I tried not to be depressed as sun chased away a watery chill to reveal a lovely autumn window scene, posted the final Scarborough blog and figured a way to share it on Insta (see Cool Places 2ii). Wearier and achier Sunday, I stayed abed reading and writing. My Valley Life article buried among the ads, kind words from Phil and Decorating neighbour dissuaded me from packing it in next year. Phil returned from the late shift with sausages and mini brownies. Tussling brightness and indigestion, I took Gaviscon, drew curtains left open by Phil and used the meditation soundtrack to drift into bad sleep.
Monday, I felt like I’d been hit round the head. Ignoring my pleas to delay chores, Phil accepted the Boots delivery and assembled rubbish. I unpacked toiletries, added cardboard to the pile and went back to bed. He brought me brownies with the coffee. “I don’t want them,” I snapped. As he took them away, I apologised: “It’s not you, it’s depression at still being ill, especially in nice weather.” I posted September’s journal entry while he went to the co-op and work, bringing home food rescued from waste. Grateful for any freebies, I could’ve done with the ready salads earlier. Hot flushes added to another crap night. My nose running Tuesday, Phil asked: “Are you still sniffly?” “Yes, but the fatigue is worse.” “Cheer up.” “No!” “I’ll pull funny faces.” “God no!” My mind wandering until he made moves, I leapt up to sort washing for him to add work clothes, bathed, ignored kitchen clutter and plodded back up with coffee. Too hot and bright to write with sun streaming in, I’d had enough of being bedbound, opened the window, put a dress on and went down for lunch. Phil related tales from The Store, explaining how well-packed herbs sometimes arrived damaged. Otherwise, there was little waste. I thought it’d reduced loads over the past 2 years, but declared it enough shop talk. “I literally am talking shop!” I joined him on a short canal walk in mellowing light, returning with backache and jelly-legs but cheerier i.
Woken Wednesday by Phil rising for work and noisy traffic, I ignored aches and fatigue for some exercise and tidying before PMQs. Going on errands, I noted an unlocked front door and a felled trellis, hastened to town in a nithering wind and spotted Phil leaving The Store. As I tried catching up, he moved uncannily fast after a long shift, into the sweet shop. “Gotcher!” “No you haven’t. It’s for someone else.” Walking home, I imparted the bad trellis news. “Pah! Call that bad news?” He tied it up, then panicked over his mislaid phone “You need to eat.” “I can’t think about that now!” “I’ll ring it for you.” “It’s on silent so that’s no good.” I called the number. It vibrated. “See, no need for all that stress!” Thursday, I dithered over shopping. Trees across the valley making rain clouds, it was too foul for the market, so it was the co-op again. Having noticed the microwave clock at zero for the second time that week, a short power-cut was confirmed by half-empty shelves. You’d never get that level of waste in the Store! I eschewed outrageously-priced toiletries, miserably slogged home and went back to bed.
Text reminders told us to book covid boosters with a GP or local pharmacy. Finally getting his shift patterns, I rang Friday. 6th in the queue, I actually managed to get slots early November but we couldn’t go due to colds. I also asked about HRT. The nice receptionist sent the doctor a ‘task’, advising I call back Monday. Waitrose reported increased fish-head and lamb neck sales for use in slow cookers. We couldn’t decide whether to buy one. Eating the last of my birthday chocolates, Phil whined that he’d not had as many. “Excuse me. You can’t buy me chocs then whinge you’ve been diddled!” But I gave him the last one.
High covid levels peaked but deaths were up to 400 week ending October 7th, ahead of winter, adding to NHS pressure. The Moderna bivalent vaccine was found to be ‘good’ for a mere 3 months. Speaking to Laura K., the couple who developed the BioNTech version, still wore masks and advised we all did, especially if mixing with travellers. Building on what they’d learnt, they hoped for a cancer vaccine by 2030.
Laura asked The Cock if Truss should go. He replied a reshuffle was needed to make use of backbench ‘talent’(!) but nobody wanted another protracted leadership race. No: some wanted Rishi, some wanted Boris and Unison’s Christina McAnea wanted a general election. Depressed public sector pay could mean 1 million taking co-ordinated action. Nasty rhetoric and Therese Coffee-Cup telling nurses fed-up of the NHS to leave, didn’t help. If they got more, they’d spend it in local shops and Tesco. UK GDP 30 places behind Ireland, Tesco Boss did what he could to help customers and 300,000 shopfloor staff. Uncle Joe licked ice cream in Oregon. ‘Sick and tired’ of trickle-down economics, he disagreed with tax cuts for the super-wealthy but that was up to Britain. EU newspapers compared the UK to loser countries and Rob Halfon accused government of acting like ‘Libertarian Jihadists’ with us as guinea pigs. Yes, in an experiment based on ‘Britannia Unchained’ by Truss et al of the Thatcherite Free Enterprise Group. No costings or income streams apart from borrowing, made it a wish list, not a budget. Post-Brexit, post-covid, soaring energy costs, rampant inflation and a recession looming, it was the worst time for their madcap free market drivel*.
After a weekend ensconced at Chequers, Truss tried to shore up ministerial support and The C**t tried settling markets by scrapping all Kwasi’s measures except National Insurance and stamp duty cuts, bigger bankers’ bonuses, and, irresponsible to expose government to price volatility, muted an end to the energy cap in April. No benefit increases until then, ‘eye-watering’ cost-savings and more ‘difficult decisions’ on spending to come, everything was on the table. Borrowing still higher than before the kamikaze budget, the IFS and Sturgeon feared a return to austerity and Keir attempted to haul Truss in for urgent questions over long-term damage. Sent in her stead, Mordor said through gritted teeth, her boss was ‘detained on urgent business’. Amid the derision, Stella Creasy joked she hid under the desk. She actually met Graham Brady then shuffled onto the frontbench at 4.30. It wouldn’t be long ‘til she shuffled off again. Chris Mason asked was Rishi right? She replied she was sorry, had to reflect, ensure economic stability and advised fellow tories to not spend tough times talking about the party.
At PMQs, Justin Madders wondered why Truss sacked Kwasi Modo and not herself? She parroted an apology and guff on delivery. Keir wittily cited a Truss biography. Out by Christmas, was that the release date or the title? In fact, she was out by November**. Spouting crap, she said she’d taken more action than him after 2½ years in the job (err, he wasn’t the PM!) He queried how she could be held to account when she wasn’t in charge and the point of making promises that didn’t last a week – cuts loomed for one reason only; they crashed the economy but her only response was to say sorry. She said he backed strikers, she backed strivers. He retorted, with a mandate based on nothing and credibility gone, why was she still here? She screeched “I’m a fighter, not a quitter,” acting in the interests of the nation while he presented no alternative. After 10 U-turns in 2 weeks, Ian Blackford feared pensioners were in the tory cut frontline. Thinking it better seeing the PM behind a desk rather than under it, Stella Creasy asked a daft question on rights to watch sport, leaving Philippa Whitford and Sarah Owen to suggest she do the decent thing. An economist on Daily Politics said the growth plan was gone and a labour government meant even higher spending. Lisa Nandy replied theirs was growth plan, they’d be careful with every penny of public money and put more in people’s pockets. Stephen Baker denied they’d wrecked the economy and ignored Lisa’s quizzing on listening to the OBR. She spluttered, how dare you talk about waste when this government wasted billions, set fire to unusable PPE and wrote off covid fraud? As he spewed more lies that society was to blame and nowt to do with 12 years of the tories, Lisa couldn’t believe what she heard. After an interview with Baker, Channel 4 news anchor Kris Guru-Murthy muttered “what a cunt.” Taken off air for a week, Baker said sacking him would be a public service but then accepted an apology.
In a fatal blow, Swellen resigned over sending official docs from her private e-mail and wrote she owned her mistake, unlike the PM: “pretending we haven’t made mistakes, carrying on as if everyone can’t see we have made them…hoping things magically come right is not serious politics.” Phil erroneously thought it showed integrity. 43 days as Home Sec the least since the Duke of Wellington, Grant Shats, who’d criticised Truss 2 days before, stepped in. Seen as a confidence vote, tories were whipped to oppose a labour bill banning fracking Wednesday evening. Amid fracking chaos, Rees-Moggy marched MPs through the ‘no’ lane. Chris Bryant accused him of bullying. Chief whip Wendy Morton and deputy Craigy Babe (declaring “I don’t give a fuck anymore”) resigned. On Jeremy Vine Thursday, 13-year old Casper grasped politics better than grown-ups saying: “If you don’t have a government with integrity, how can they govern properly?” The fracas culminated in Truss standing at the lectern at 1.00 p.m. Unable to deliver the mandate members elected her to deliver, she’d spoken to Kingy and resigned. So much for fighting, not quitting! ‘To maintain stability and continuity’(sic), she and Graham Brady agreed an expediated leadership election within a week – the shortest-serving PM ever didn’t even last that long. Asked was it a dog’s dinner, Brady stammered, “Well, it’s certainly not a circumstance I would wish to see.” Candidates needing at least 100 backers, there’d be only 2 by Monday. Truss’ popularity at -70%, realising what a fuck-up they’d made, it was just as well members didn’t get to vote with 1/3 braying for Boris (whose popularity low was -55%). International leaders had a good laugh and QT was shown live. Rachel Johnson observed the Jeremy Vine lettuce outlived Truss. Even the carefully-curated audience called for a general election except 4 calling for Boris, who had a proper mandate and was ‘hounded out’. Tony Danker said if tories put country and economy first and stuck to C**t’s plan (which we didn’t yet know), they might have a chance. Camilla Cavendish, FT, favoured Rishi as he went all the way with Truss! All agreeing Keir was credible, he’d have no money to implement bold plans which Graham Stuart called unaffordable and unrealistic. Jess Philips was flabbergasted a minister said labour would crash the economy when they’d just crashed the economy. While true they didn’t know what they could afford thanks to Truss, they’d borrow to invest, not to cut the rich’s taxes.
Government loan interest at £7.7bn, inflation was back at 10.1%. Food up 14.5%, it’d be more if it weren’t for petrol. Shop sales dipped below pre-pandemic levels. Calling it junk food, The Guardian featured web sellers of discounted out-of-date groceriesiii. Wittily alluding to Swellen whingeing about support for strikers, they asked for money from ‘tofu-eating workerati’ (obviously part of the anti-growth coalition!) At her last TUC conference, Frances O’Grady was angry at toxic tories, aka ‘Robin Hood in reverse’. NHS and care workers leaving for better-paid jobs, those left couldn’t cope and were balloted. More rail and tube strikes were announced for early November. Anne-Marie Trevelyan wheeled out ostensibly to discuss laws enforcing minimum service on strike days, Mick Lynch advised she get on with sorting out the dispute. CWU said PO strikes weren’t about pay but T&C changes, ‘uberising’ staff in secure, well-paid jobs into a ‘casualised, financially precarious workforce overnight’. CGT asking for 10% rises, French oil, rail, teaching and hospital workers struck. South Yorks trams would revert to public control in 2024. 6 towns already writing bids, drafting of the Great British Railways bill stopped – delayed or cancelled? Keighley trialled noise-detecting cameras to spot needless engine revving and a joker chucked a microwave at a car in Gainsborough. A crackdown on protests planned, TfL sought injunctions when Just Stop Oil blocked Park Lane Sunday and 2 protestors climbed up the QE bridge above the M25 Tuesday, to have fireworks thrown at them and get arrested when they descended, making a total of 150 during 2 weeks’ action. On Jeremy Vine, Anne Widdecombe was in favour of running them over rather than shutting the road. Friday, Harrods was sprayed orange and it was revealed Aileen Getty donated £900,000 to a Climate Emergency Fund giving some activists a ‘small income’.
The Pentagon wavering on funding Starlink, Elon Musk still gave the Ukrainian internet service £17.8m a month. 23 Iranian kamikaze drones shot down over Kyiv, 5 hit the ground. The EU were ‘following closely’ as it may have broken the Iran nuclear deal. 30% of Ukrainian power stations hit, Vlod said negotiating with Vlad was no longer an option. Martial law was declared in the 4 ‘Russian’ regions and civilians evacuated as Ukrainians advanced. Suspended for sexual misconduct, labour MP Christian Matheson resigned. Kevin Spacey was cleared in a civil case and faced a legal prosecution. Daniel Craig became a Champion of The Order of St Michael & St George, emulating Ian Fleming – he’d come a long way from the feckless Geordie in Our Friends in the North. An artisan at the National Glass Centre, Sunderland made a glass pumpkin. Much better than firing real ones from a canon, like Essex farmer Ross McGowan. What a waste!
Scary Monsters, Super Creeps
A stunning morning, wet roofs glistened and trees echoed an orange-yellow dawn Saturday 22nd. Phil finished an early shift in time for a colourful woods walki. Knackered after a total 20,000 steps, he rested. Aching all over, I could’ve used one too but instead, edited photos and read family WhatsApp messages which crashed my phone. A headache unfair after moderate drinking, I cheered up Sunday laughing at creepy Rees-Moggy living in the 18th century. More overnight rain led to a dank day. Disinclined to visit the pumpkin festival, I installed the Halloween tree and devised a Christmas card while Phil worked. I had to shield him 3 times from spoilers of the feature-length Dr. Who until he’d watched it on iPlayer.
dull Monday spent on the phone to the surgery and British Gas, I haggled and stripped down the cover to halve the homecare quote. Head done in by admin, I ironed piles of summer clothes. The Metro app failed to load Tuesday, then updated to resemble all the other crap news sites. Phil found a way to access puzzles but the dimensions were all wrong. He disrupted kitchen chores bounding down the stairs shouting “there’s a chunk out the sun!” No forewarning of an eclipse, I hurried up to view a semi-circular disc like a Pac-man bite. Despite clouds and lens filters, my eyes became sore. I switched to infra-red turning the sky magenta. I left Phil preparing for work and ambled to the surgery wearing too many layers in unexpected warmth. The GP had advised I see a nurse before a tele-appointment, but I got a different story from the receptionist. The follow-up to discuss HRT would be with another nurse. God knew how you got to actually see a GP nowadays! Wearing a mask in the waiting room, no other patients did. When the nurse eventually appeared, she informed me they were only compulsory for staff, asked a few questions and took my vitals. Weighing less than last time, I said I’d been good, unlike with smoking. My only worrying vice and not causing a cough, she posited “if you stop, you might get one.” “You’re not supposed to say that. You should encourage me!” As she babbled on, I wasn’t surprised there’d been a delay – she could talk for England. I dawdled to the co-op where gaps included the fab cheap exotic stuff -had it run out? Paying at the kiosk, a fly crept along the counter. “That came out of your wallet.” My Mate jibed. “Cheeky! What are you saying!” Back home, I was startled by an e-mail from Valley Life. The next deadline in a week’s time, it didn’t seem 5 mins since the last one. Phil returned with a huge goody bag as the Ex-Landlady had stuffed in extras. “She must think you need feeding up!” We decadently ate some of the cream glut with tinned peaches.
Planning an earlier start, I’d set the alarm to be jolted from disturbed sleep Wednesday. The trees glowed gold above parched fields. Lolling on the couch, Phil whinged Shutterstock used the AI pic generator to mash up his photos then was magically ready – irksome as I’d rushed round all morning preparing for an outing. We swerved roadworks where the workman was hard at it, drinking Lucozade and tapping his phone, crossed to the bus stop, paid £2 flat fares and chatted on the ride Up Tops. Observing we’d miss the new PM’s first PMQs, we predicted a disparate cabinet descending into chaos, a reshuffle consisting of arse-licking creeps and another coup – watch this space! We alighted to walk into The Crags, admire effervescent woodland, bag almost-free apples and see a heron catching a fishi. The longest jaunt for some time left us footsore, achy and muddy. As I removed clarted jeans, I feared mucky bits on the rug came off me. I was glad of leftovers and more peaches and cream for dinner.
Blissfully asleep until Phil rose early Thursday, I dozed, felt iffy, changed bedding, recovered with coffee, edited the Valley Life article and went out with Walking Friend, dissuading her from heron-spotting in favour of the market. A waste of time, I found a mere 2 of the sought toiletry items and was piqued by the man taking ages serving a couple. In the Med Café, busy with half-term families, we discussed spice preferences and recent walks, including her misadventures with The Poet, over versions of brekkie.
Phil rang after work to see where we were and pull faces through the window. His brekkie came quick and disappeared in his gob quick. Doing more errands, we saw a heron on the weir – no need to go hunting after all! In the large charity shop, we found a monopod and Armani jeans. A tired Phil took then home. My friend and I visited more charity shops and laughed at Noir crap. “I can’t look. It hurts my eyes. People buy that shit. Scary!” Walking her to the bus stop, I advised she opted into NI payments. Overwhelmed by stuff to do Friday, I got upset struggling with the bath tap. Phil came to help: “I thought you were actually crying.” “I was!” Doing admin after lunch got fractious. Trying to log onto online banking, the annoyingly hot, slow laptop found no internet. I gave up and stomped to the kitchen to make apple cake and chutney. Phil came to stir it up and prep jars. Feeling calmer, we totted up household outgoings, freaked by the unavoidable sums.
Wobbly during the last weekend of October, I stayed in. Saturday, we made butter from souring cream, taking turns shaking a jar until a butterball formed. I left buttermilk straining through a filter paper to use for Yorkshire pud batter, while Phil did my hair. Lunch involved a veritable country kitchen of 4 homemade items! Sniffy all day, Phil took a hot lemon drink up for an afternoon rest before a seasonal dinner and creepy films. Rain put me off going for knobbly veg Sunday. Instead, I edited photos, worked on the Valley Life article, got head fug and cleaned the bathroom in fading light as the stupid bulb popped. Phil got home from The Store with another bag of stuff – the benefits of working a late Sunday shift!
On Halloween, BBC breakfast said we should’ve got the first £66 under the energy bills support scheme. Many on pre-paid meters hadn’t received vouchers, but I couldn’t fathom ours. I re-checked accounts and rang BG to be in a 1½ hour queue. On the 3rd attempt, an unintelligible Asian woman said I’d been transferred to BG evolve whatever that was. On hold again, this time with no clue for how long, I conceded defeat, sent off the Valley Life article and posted blogs. Then we both went out, him to work, me to the co-op. Barely able to think with a cacophony of screeching kids, I raced out the back door. A two-way traffic jam round the roadworks had cleared leaving an eerily empty road. With no trick or treaters, I ate a lolly from a selection bag. Late evening, my nose clogged and head drooped. Phil asked why I pulled faces. “I’m getting a cold. Your cold!” Expunging nasty gunk overnight, proved me right this time.
Numbers stable, hospital admissions fell, 10 million had autumn boosters and statins reduced deaths from severe covid by 37%. Flu down the last 2 years due to less face-licking, the 2022 season started early. High rates for under 5’s. those eligible were urged to get jabs. Taking over Llandudno and evading contraception during covid restrictions, the increased goat population ate hedges, slept in bus shelters and brawled in carparks. The council set up a task force to move them back up the Great Orme but they clearly preferred town life. 30 new cases this month, 2.3m farm birds infected with Avian flu by their wild cousins were culled, a nationwide prevention zone imposed and vaccines researched.
Boris flew back from yet another Caribbean holiday Monday 24th to drop out of the leaders race, saying he had support but it wasn’t the right time and he couldn’t unite the party. Yeah right! Nowt to do with the privileges committee inquiry! Rishi became the first British Asian PM by default on Diwali. Mainstream media didn’t mention the partial solar eclipse (another bad omen) as Trussed-UP inanely spoke Tuesday, not ruing dragging us to the brink: ‘I’m right you’re all wrong’. Off to the funny farm, Liz!
Rishi met Kingy. Orating on unity and stability in tough times, he ‘fully appreciated’ how hard things were, pledged “a stronger NHS, better schools, safer streets, control of our borders, protecting our environment, supporting our armed forces and levelling up.” David Farquharson made a Truss dog toy. Shipped at a cost of £3,500 after she resigned, it served him right for getting them from China! He hoped ‘politically incorrect’ retailers would buy them.
Brexiteers on Romford market wanted Boris back and Scarborough chippies whinged staff shortages curbed opening hours, even in peak season.
The C**t, Wally, Babadook and Uncleverly stayed in post, Glove-Puppet returned to level up, Steve Barclay became health sec and Coffee-Cup moved to environment. Rees-Moggy was replaced by Shats, Dowdy became cabinet sec, Gillian Keegan ed sec, and Rabid Raab deputy PM and justice sec- replacing Swiss Toni who sorted out the barristers dispute created by Raab (not widely reported, they got the 15% pay rise) and Swellen returned as home sec. Labour crowed, Boris might not be back but his cabinet was. Accused of doing a grubby deal, Rishi defended her re-appointment. As Jake Berry revealed she broke the code lots, labour called on Simon Case to investigate. On QT, David Lammy said Rishi had no mandate, awful Hartley-Brewer said the NHS couldn’t save lives, and Lucy Fraser lied there were 46 new hospitals. A nurse in the audience wanted better facilities not more hospitals. Armand Iannucci wondered where the social care plan Boris had at the start of his tenure was, blamed Brexit for staff shortages and 16-year-old interns for writing bad policy. Newscast replaced by another programme of nattering men in suits, I watched last week’s on iPlayer wherein Keir said it was better to be boring rather than exciting and create a scary Truss-like mess.
The Glove-puppet took a weekend off clubbing to tell Laura K. Swellen had integrity, would be great at her job, and make promises on extra help for households. Excerpts from the biography revealed that as foreign sec, Trussed-Up was more interested in selfies for socials than being briefed before meetings. Laughing at her rider comprising posh espresso, chilled Sauvignon Blanc and no mayo, Spreadsheet Phil preferred to go with the flow. At a special Stormont sitting on deadline day, Michelle O’Neil complained Jeffrey Donaldson’s refusal to power-share ‘til the Northern Ireland protocol was scrapped, a ‘failure of leadership’.
The Halloween fiscal statement delayed, the Beeb went to Creepy Crawley and Rabid Raab insisted it’d ensure it ‘stood the test of time’ and OBR forecast accuracy. They predicted the total cost of the government bail-out would’ve been £2.2 bn. On the day Kingy 50p coins were minted, former BOE boss Lord Mervyn King blamed the bigger boys, i.e., global banks, for printing money and over-borrowing during the pandemic. In favour of slow growth, he feared cuts worsening the situation. Octopus bought Bulb which collapsed last November. Ofcom encouraged internet providers to put customers before profits. Dipping into reserves for day-to-day costs, schools were running out of money. Threatened with legal action by South Yorks mayor for asset-stripping Robin Hood airport, Peel Group denied claims of a ‘credible buyer’. Ambulance workers joined nurse ballots, while an NHS recruitment drive aimed to replace 40,000 who quit last year. 2,000 Scotrail drivers and Avanti managers struck over rosters, Stagecoach staged more talks in Hull, Co-op Funeralcare coffin-makers in Glasgow started a week’s strike and announced more in November.
Only 29 of 193 countries meeting COP26 commitments, Guterres feared global catastrophe but was optimistic rumours of UK targets being ditched weren’t true. Rishi said he wouldn’t go to COP27 due to more ‘pressing domestic commitments’. What on earth was more important? Labour called ousting Alok Sharma from cabinet, despite going to hand over the presidency, a failure of leadership, and Caroline Green said it made a mockery of government claims on climate leadership. Coffee-cup disrespectfully told LBC: “The UK continues to show global leadership as opposed to just a gathering of people in Egypt.” Dead crustaceans littered the North East coast (was it algae or pollution?) and Southern Water spewed sewage into the sea at St. Agnes, Cornwall. Frank Spencer spewed platitudes on making progress.
More of the foreign aid budget spent on refugees in the UK than abroad, none of the 38,000 channel-crossers had asylum decisions. The Home Office unable to cope, conditions at Manston processing centre left inspector David Neal ‘speechless’. 66 year-old Andrew Leak threw petrol bombs and fireworks at the Western Jet Foil camp in Dover then killed himself. Islamophobic rants found on his Facebook page, terror police investigated. Amid fire damage, 700 were bussed to Manston, plagued by MRSA, scabies and diphtheria. Children screamed ‘freedom!’ over the fence. In the Commons, Yvette Coop accused Swellen of ‘working outside the law’ not providing extra hotel accommodation. Swellen retorted we needed to know which party was serious about stopping the ‘invasion’. Many of them allegedly recruited by criminal gangs in French camps, we should ‘stop pretending’ they were refugees in distress. How did she know if they weren’t processed? Swellen promised the 10,000 Albanians would be dealt with ‘within days’. The system broken and illegal migration ‘out of control’, she was on the side of getting a grip. The opposition guffawed at her incompetence. Also quizzed on breaking the ministerial code, Tulip Siddiq referred Swellen to FCA.
Xi Jinping became the first Chinese leader re-elected for a third term since Mao. Sergey Naryshkin of the Russian spy service denied Kremlin nuclear bombast, saying it was all Western rhetoric. He’d warned colleagues in Turkey, USA and France of Ukrainian plans to use ‘dirty bombs’. With no evidence, it was an obvious red flag. A huge Israeli raid in Nablus, West Bank wounded 21 Palestinians and killed 5. 3 were members of The Lion’s Den independent militia. Trump was subpoenaed over the Capitol Hill debacle, 6th January 2021. Bolsonaro lost the Brazil presidency to Da Silva but didn’t concede defeat, a la Trump. At the biggest Halloween fest since before the pandemic in Seoul, 150,000 including a K-Pop star, died crushing to see a celeb. Riots and fireworks set Dundee on fire. Great Balls of Fire crooner Jerry Lee Lewis died. The dirtiest man in the world perished after having a wash. Villagers in Dejgah, Iran, persuaded 94 year old hermit ‘Amou Haji’ who ate roadkill and smoked animal poo, to shower. Musk’s Twitter take-over complete, he sacked execs and promised radical change (i.e., allowing toxic ‘free speech’ and charging for blue ticks). Adidas ended their deal with Ye over antisemitism. Losing his billionaire status, he was worth a mere £400m. Yesus! My heart bleeds!
Notes:
*Britannia Unchained: Global Lessons For Growth And Prosperity. Kwasi Kwarteng, Pritti Patel, Dominic Raab, Chris Skidmore & Liz Truss
**Out of The Blue: The Inside Story of the Unexpected Rise and Rapid Fall of Liz Truss. Harry Cole & James Heale
References:
i. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/
ii. My Cool Places 2 blog: https://wordpress.com/posts/hepdenerose2.wordpress.com
iii. Cheap food links: https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2022/oct/15/cheap-deli9cious-and-only-three-years-out-of-date-my-week-of-eating-food-past-its-best-before; https://cheapfood.co.uk/; https://www.rogerswholesalefoods.co.uk/
The Corvus Diaries 