Corvus Bulletin 8: Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

“It feels like almost every week there is an issue with sleaze and scandal where Rishi Sunak is either implicated himself or too weak to get to grips with it (Wendy Chamberlain)

In the wettest March for 40 years, French Storm Mathis brought yellow rain and 70 mph winds to southern England. It was revealed water companies discharged sewage into rivers an average 825 times a day during 2022. The Environment Agency put the 19% drop from 2021 down to droughts. Yorkshire Water claimed to have a £180m plan but customers would need to contribute. Government threatened to impose unlimited fines. Labour lambasted underwhelming targets and penalties to cut sewage and storm overflow discharge way in the distant future.

‘Sorry’ for polluting rivers and seas, Water UK pledged £10bn to mend sewers and build tanks by 2030, but admitted bills would rise. Government urged them to put customers before profit – that was good coming from them! Warned not to swim in dirty water, demonstrators lined the Scarborough shoreline. Yorkshire Water boss Nicola Shaw promised to fix the problem within 2 years. Comics Lee Mack, Pail Whitehouse and Steve Coogan protested against United Utilities spewing filth into Lake Windermere.

Noa, a French storm but not official in the UK, resulted in downpours, wind and massive waves in Cornwall 12^th April. A Fin whale washed up on Bridlington beach and died. The Hartlepool fishing industry at grave risk due to all the dead crustaceans, government still denied it had anything to do with dredging. Charities stepped in to provide support.

Westminster as dirty as our waterways, tory MP Scott Benton was entrapped by a lobbying video and suspended. Daniel Greenberg launched investigations into Benton for use of work e-mail and 2 fellow MPs – Henry Smith who used tax-payer funded stationery and The Cock who tried to influence enforcement of parliamentary standards. Matt was ‘shocked and surprised’ – we weren’t! The Commissioner then looked into Rishi Rich for not declaring an interest in Koru Kids in which his wife had shares and stood to benefit from the expansion of free childcare. They were belatedly added to a new ministerial interests list. Thangam Debonnaire reckoned he’d hoped the furore would blow over rather than coming clean.

Adam Tolley KC, investigating bullying allegations against Rabid Raab since November, handed a detailed report to Rishi. Complainants in limbo, a livid Dave Penman of FDA railed at a farce and liberal chief whip Wendy Chamberlain at a weak PM. The next morning, Rishi accepted Raab’s resignation ‘with regret’, confirming his spinelessness. Alex Chalk became Justice sec and Oliver Dowdy deputy PM. In a BBC interview, Raab hit out at the injustice of ‘passive aggressive activist’ civil servants ganging up on ministers they didn’t like. He wouldn’t stand at the next election.

Adam Heppinstall KC (were all KC’s called Adam?) reported that BBC chair Richard Sharp breached the government’s code of conduct over the Boris loan guarantee scandal. Saying it was a distraction, Sharp resigned. Gary Lineker tweeted government shouldn’t make the appointment, now or ever. Lucy Powell said the affair did ‘untold damage to the BBC’ and its independence was ‘seriously undermined’ by tory ‘sleaze and cronyism’. Quite – if he’d had any integrity, he’d have gone when the story broke.

In Scotland, Sturgeon’s house was searched and her husband Peter Murrell arrested then released pending further investigation into SNP finances. A similar fate befell the treasurer and a luxury campervan was seized from outside Murrell’s elderly mum’s house.

Mid-May, United Utilities discharged sewage at Fleetwood contaminating the entire Fylde Coast. Towns across Kent and Sussex without a supply, schools had to close. South East Water issued a hosepipe ban, not because of drought but because they couldn’t keep up with early summer demand, which sounded ludicrous when thunderstorms flooded Rotherham and Sheffield.

Coffee-Cup told Laura K. she was ‘fed up’ with water companies and promised new Ofwat measures would lower share dividends. It emerged Swellen was caught speeding when serving as attorney general and asked civil servants if she could sit a speed awareness course privately. On becoming home sec, she opted for points. Coffee-Cup claimed to know nothing. As too did Rishi at G7. Irritated by questions, he snapped: ‘aren’t you going to ask about the summit?’ A possible breach of the ministerial code, Swellen batted away calls to go, said she regretted speeding but did nothing untoward, and prated about focusing on the job. Rishi informed MPs he was looking into it which meant having a chat with Swellen and Laurie Magnus rather than a proper inquiry.

June officially the hottest on record by 0.9 degrees, scientists expected such temperatures every other year and farmers grew med veg. The recommended 6-month waiting period at an end, Sue Gray got the all-clear to become labour chief of staff. She was later alleged to have broken the civil service code for not disclosing contact. Denying any dirty dealings, labour whinged of a politically motivated ‘Mickey Mouse’ probe by the cabinet office.

Thames Water CE Sarah Bentley returning her bonus over sewage spills didn’t appease so she’d resigned. Struggling to find investors, ministers stood by to take over in a ‘worst case scenario’. 30 years of paying shareholders while bleeding us dry then expecting government to sort it out, Ed Millipede raged at the scandal. Early July, they were fined £3m for polluting the River Thames near Gatwick with raw sewage in 2017, killing thousands of fish. Not mentioning leakage of 602.2m litres a day, River Action’s James Wallace warned Londoners of ‘imminent’ rationing as chalk streams dried up. Interim boss Cathryn Ross complained government’s ‘Plan For Water’ didn’t go far enough and suggested changes to how we thought about water and not taking it for granted, because London was no rainier than Jerusalem – eh? Heatwaves across The Med, a British tourist died of heatstroke queueing at Rome’s colosseum. Another washout weekend in the UK, Surfers Against Sewage advised all Cornish beaches were contaminated. Sewage ‘perfectly legally’ discharged at Filey, Whitby and Scarborough, signs informed of poor water quality on the latter’s South Beach. RNLI stopped putting red flags up, confusing councillors.

A Yorkshire Water ad telling us how to save water beggared belief. Unbelievably patronising given their record on waste, it contained stock footage of a Ukrainian left-hand drive car, a Russian bar and Herefordshire hills. Mocked as ‘more Malvern than Malton’, it was pulled. July estimated to be the hottest month for 1,200 years worldwide, US scientists warned of ‘global boiling’. But Yorkshire experienced the second wettest on record. Not expected to change until mid- August, it felt pleasant enough outside – for October! I reckoned we’d had 5 dry days all month, although unseasonal conditions led to dramatic cloudscapes (see my haiga ‘Enigma’ⁱ). When Phil returned from work soaked to the skin, he exclaimed: “Look at me!” “Yes, and you said there’s nowt in the St. Swithin’s adage!”

Approving a coal mine ‘nonsense’, Climate Change Committee Chair Selwyn Gummer thought it a shame the UK no longer led on the issue. The High Court stymied 5 councils’ bid to stop Sadiq extending ULEZ to outer London boroughs. Appealing to motoring gammons, Rishi announced a review of low traffic neighbourhoods even though they were in the remit of local authorities. Backbenchers wanted a delay to the ban on petrol and diesel vehicles but The Glove-Puppet insisted the 2030 date was immoveable. Continuing to renege on promises and drive a ‘wrecking ball’ through climate commitments, Rishi announced 100 new North Sea oil and gas licenses plus carbon capture (to include The Humber), much to Thangam’s ‘disappointment’. Saying use of UK energy sources rather than shipping it halfway round the world was important, Rishi seemed oblivious that most untapped reserves consisted of oil destined for foreign markets.

A standards committee inquiry into ‘inappropriate behaviour’ meant The Pincher faced an 8 week suspension and recall petition possibly leading to yet another by-election. Parliament really was a dirty rotten cesspit!

Reference:

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

Corvus Bulletin 2.1: Let Them Eat Turnips

“The government must cancel April’s hike. With the cost of wholesale gas plummeting ministers have no excuse for not stepping in” (Paul Novak)

At the end of a 4-day week trial, 39% of staff reported feeling less stressed and businesses reported 69% fewer sick days with little or no negative effect on the bottom line. Despite 1.1 million unfilled vacancies, a record number of older people weren’t working. Pay growing faster, 6.7% was still way behind inflation and a 3.6% real-terms cut The public and private sector gap widening, Abellio London bus drivers settled on a better offer involving a rescheduling agreement, reinstatement of Unite reps and more pay – if they could get 18%, why couldn’t other essential workers?

Their tactics allegedly working, BOE raised interest to 4% and ONS estimated the UK narrowly avoided recession 2022. Think tank NIESR* predicted the trend continuing and inflation falling to 5.35% by the end of 2023, although disposable income would take a ‘big hit’. Not ‘woke’ like the Bank of England, they urged The C**t to ‘loosen fiscal policy’. Rachel Reeves whinged the economy was ‘stuck in the slow lane’ but The C**t insisted it showed ‘underlying resilience’. Not out of the woods yet, he said he couldn’t afford to extend the energy price cap or ‘inflationary’ public sector pay increases. He didn’t mention a £5.42bn treasury surplus January. £21.9bn from self-assessment, Phil reckoned as sole traders had made last-minute submissions, there’d not be a repeat.

14,874 high street jobs lost so far this year, greater costs and rail strikes led to 512 pub closures during 2022; almost double 2021. With £2.6bn debt, Stonegate (owned by TDR capital) could shut 1,000 Slug & lettuce and Be At One sites. A fifth of the Ford UK workforce to be redundant, most of the 13,000 would go from Dunton, Essex. The EU and US subsidising electric car manufacture, UK production was at its lowest level. Government insisted it made major investments in the industry, as it did in steel, but British Steel announced closure of the Scunthorpe coking plant. Due to the ‘challenging macro-economic environment’, PayPal cut their workforce by 7%, and losing 2.4 million subscribers in 3 months, Disney+ shed 7,000 employees.

Utility companies announced massive profits. BP boss Bernard Looney justified their £23bn by claiming to ‘invest in the transition to green energy’ but as they scaled back plans to reduce oil and gas production, Paul Novack said they laughed ‘all the way to the bank’. Centrica profits £3.3bn, 40% of consumers spent more than 10% of their income on energy and 3.2 million were unable to feed pre-payment meters. Wanting a social tariff to help those struggling, Ofgem threatened to name and shame suppliers switching them to pre-payment. After it was reported BG had stopped the practice and offered grants of up to £250, an undercover Times reporter exposed their sub-contractors’ strongarm tactics to gleefully force pre-payment meters on the vulnerable. Centrica boss Chris O’Shea called it completely ‘inexcusable’ and cancelled the contract with Arvato. While Ofgem investigated, the NEA urged a thorough review. On 6^th February, chief judge Lord Justice Edis told magistrates to stop rubber- stamping warrants for entry ‘immediately’ and ‘until further notice’. Later in the month, Ofgem’s energy price cap fell to £3,280, effective from 1^st April. Less than the government’s energy price guarantee, Paul Nowak urged a change in the March budget.

Rough sleepers in England up 25% 2022, private rental evictions doubled. Frozen since 2020, Crisis CE Matt Downie said housing benefit must rise in the budget and LUHC** committee chair Clive Betts warned while the Renter’s Reform Bill abolishing no-fault evictions was welcome, it wasn’t enough to solve the problem. He doubted government fully appreciated ‘a creaking and unreformed courts system’ risked undermining the reforms.

At the end of the month, Kantar research found food inflation at 17.1%. Eggs, milk and marge up most, annual grocery bills increased by £811 if household habits didn’t change. Nestlé products rose 8.2% while profits fell 45% – served the greedy gits right! Aldi building more stores creating 6,000 jobs, along with Lidl, Morrisons and Tesco, they rationed fruit and veg. According to ministers, tomato and cucumber shortages were caused by extreme weather leading to poor harvests and transport problems in North Africa and Southern Europe – nowt to do with Brexit!

At the NFU conference in Brum, Therese Coffee-Cup stammered that she couldn’t control the weather in Spain. Minette Batters agreed but said it was ludicrous we couldn’t grow our own because the government failed to help UK farmers. And where were the turnips Coffee-Cup suggested we eat instead?

Idiots in front of loaded grocery market stalls on morning telly, ridiculously complained of no salad in supermarkets and no strawberries and raspberries – in winter! Memes of plentiful fresh produce in the Eurozone and Turnip Heads ensued.

30p Lee subsequently said prisoners should be made to pick fruit and veg. “How about his red wall gammons doing it?” I spluttered. “I thought there were none; they’re all in Spain covered in snow – make your mind up!” laughed Phil. He also advised scrapping Budvar off the wish-list. Too much hassle importing it, there were no UK suppliers. That didn’t stop beer usurping even more food shelves in The Co-op or The Store. Yank produce set to dominate, I was willing to give Cap’n Crunch a go, if it became more affordable.

The way fresh produce inflation was going, that might not be long, as I discovered when I visited the weekly market. Handing over a racketeer’s ransom for fresh fish and Jolly Veg Man’s 4 remaining tomatoes, I was angry at myself for getting caught up in the mania and eschewed further extortion. Still needing a couple of items, I spotted the small veg shop with cheaper prices than the market. Buying a couple of items, I told the shop owner as the window was low making it hard to see what was in stock, we often forgot about it. She said she’d taken over a month ago and had ideas to improve the display. I wished her well.

We saw first-hand evidence of the superstore farrago during a short break in Chester for Phil’s birthday early March. Tesco devoid of tomatoes, a local grocers had tons (see Haiga – Supermarket Sweepⁱ). Veg supplies allegedly ‘back to normal’ within a couple of weeks, Lidl lifted purchase restrictions on 10^th March.

In other food news, Countryfile revealed that a new inquiry commissioned by Defra into dead crustaceans on the North Yorks coast October 2022, ruled out algae blooms or dredging and blamed pathogens, with no evidence. Seals dying and fishermen going bankrupt over winter, there’d be no further investigation.

The Great Crème Egg Robbery – Joby Pool from Tinsley was convicted of stealing a truckload of 200,000 Cadbury crème eggs from a warehouse in Telford. What was he going to do with them all? Disguise them as turnips?

* NIESR – National Institute for Economic and Social Research

** Levelling Up, Housing & Communities

Reference:

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

The Corvus Papers 5: Winter Of Our Discontent

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

Winter of Strife

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dark Skies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do Not Travel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m Dreaming Of A Grey Christmas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

References:

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

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

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

The Corvus Papers 3: The Rocky Horror Show

“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 4^th 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 19^th 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 31^st 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 11^th 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 cheerierⁱ.

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. 6^th 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 7^th, 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 22^nd. 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 18^th 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 3^rd 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 24^th 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, 6^th 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 Papers 2: Out Of The Frying Pan, Into The Pyre

“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

Phil started work at the convenience store on 1^st September. I tackled chores and admin, ringing the GP surgery twice. 29^th 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 60^th 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.

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

Alcohol and insomnia led to a groggy start Thursday 8^th. 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).

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 60^th 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.

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

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 22^nd 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.

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 1^st 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 8^th 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

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.

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 19^th 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 7^th October but after Trussed-Up joined Kwasi in meeting them, she said it wouldn’t be made public ‘til 23^rd 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 4^th 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 31^st 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!

Notes

* Passport to Leisure

**Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson and Zaporizhzhia

References:

i. Ovo’s 10-point plan: https://www.ovoenergy.com/ovo-newsroom/press-releases/2022/september/ten-point-plan

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

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

Part 106 – Clownfall

“Too many people are losing the battle to keep a roof over their heads – struggling to pay rent and put food in their mouths…the next Prime Minister needs to get a grip on this crisis, and fast” (Polly Neate)

Liar, Liar!

July 1^st, I managed a full day out of bed, hung washing in sunshine and nipped in the art shop for an open studios brochure on the way to the co-op. As I danced in the aisles to ‘The Chelsea Song’*, someone said “nice moves, Mary!” I turned and smiled before recognising Bully Ex-neighbour. That was the end of blanking her, then! A rain shower eased as I walked back alongside Irish Neighbour who predicted it’d stop altogether when we got home. Alas, it didn’t. As it got wetter, Phil dashed out to fetch the laundry. Sun returning, I started to peg it back, but darkening skies made me abandon the idea. The Widower chatted to The Woman Next Door. His unleashed dog roamed the street, weed near our door and jumped up to plant 2 matching muddy paw prints on my light summer jeans. The Widower apologised and offered to wash them. I said it was okay, then went in to rant and soak the jeans.

ONS estimated covid went up another 32%, with 1:35 infected in Yorkshire and 1:25 in Calderdale. Prof Linda Bauld blamed holidaymakers returning from Portugal. Shats unveiled a 22 point plan for air flights. Scottish cops withdrew ‘goodwill’. The work to rule was triggered by a ‘derisory’ offer of £564 extra pay.

Waking early with a cough Saturday, I sucked a pastille and fell back asleep. Both tired, we stayed in. Phil cut my hair and tackled the greasy kitchen then rested while I cleaned floors and went to the co-op for beer. Bantering with My Mate at the kiosk, a woman randomly mentioned Crackerjack. “It’s Friday, it’s 5 to 5…” I quoted. “Oops! I’m showing my age. I know I don’t look it!” Hitherto cloudy, I strolled back in the gorgeous evening and stopped to chat with German Friend warming in sunshine outside her house. Her next-door’s makeshift patio an improvement on the caravan, I desisted in calling it a bit gammon when she said they were nice neighbours. Bemoaning a lack of parking space, set to worsen with the mill development, she planned to bring it up at their upcoming street party. Wondering what good that would do, Phil agreed the fallacy it was a private street gave them delusions of authority! The Woman Next Door had parked in the middle of our street. When End Neighbour arrived, I banged on next door and faked fear of being run over as she backed up. The Widower similarly struggled to park then discovered he’d brought the wrong keys out and had to enter a daft code to get spares from a box. I stayed out to soak up rays, swept cobwebs off the window and lopped the rosebush to prevent eye pokes.

Arriva bus services resumed during talks but the strike was back on a week later. 1,000 confirmed cases, mostly in London, Pride revellers were told to stay home if they had monkeypox symptoms and vaccine was offered to contacts.

Quorn sausage instead of meat Sunday, felt like a treat. That mightn’t last as farmers losing £30 per pig threatened to stop production. Phil said “The government can’t admit Brexit’s a mess and there’s no money coming in through trade.” “What about VAT? If they don’t do something, it’ll be more costly when we all die of malnutrition!” Bunman reckoned this was more of a health risk than the pandemic.

Phil having no luck job-hunting, I proposed offering IT skills to artists. Open Studios a good place to start, we visited the main venues. In the first, a woman created charming bird paintings and inspiring collages. Phil offered to take photos of her pictures so she could sell prints online. Mysteriously seeing nobody we knew in the next studio, we climbed steep steps to the upper art mill floors where Photography Friend chuckled: “About time you showed up!” We discussed selling her greetings cards online and the trials of videoing. Browsing jewellery, I was greeted by the silversmith who turned out to be End Neighbour’s daughter.

After visiting a couple of charity shops, we crossed a square busy with bikers and other motley folk to get pop, and supped it near the wavy steps. Lads built a fort on duck island, a boy disgustingly picked up birdseed to hand-feed pigeons, and a misfit black and white mallard mixed with waterfowl until a dog splashed into the water.

It emerged Boris used a government jet to holiday in Cornwall last month. An ill-briefed Thérèse Coffee-Cup was wheeled out to parrot Number 10 press office lines. Most covid infections caused by the BA.5 Omicron subvariant, Thicko Dr. Jenny Harries resurrected the old ‘hands, face, space’ mantra, advised face-masks in busy indoor places and those with respiratory illnesses stayed home. As Russia took control of Lysychansk and accused Ukraine of missile strikes on Belgorod, Gen Mark Milley made parallels between Russian invasions and Nazi Germany but NATO stronger than ever, didn’t think we were on the road to war. Lord Brownnose allegedly got his knighthood for rescuing Bonny Prince Charlie’s daft Dumfries eco homes plan.

Iffy with twinges Monday, I resolved to not stay abed, posted a haiga, drafted blogs, and went to the co-op. The Bonkers woman fretted with a friend over what she could afford for tea. Things were bad if the middle classes were worried! I eschewed pricey items for a low-cost top-up. The young cashier very fast, I asked did he work at Lidl before? “No, kitchens.” I dumped bags near the front door, filled the watering can from the outside tap and jumped at a “Hello Mary.” I hadn’t seen The Woman Next Door on her doorstep. It was hard to keep a straight face as she held a bonger in one hand and traced circles round her face with a tuning fork in the other. Phil guessed it was some zen shit. DIY tuning fork therapy, actually. He was in stiches at a woman on Look North who clearly bought her furnishings from Noir: “And look at that gammon tan!” Thinking he said ‘Gammantine’, I asked if that was a new décor style.

Having said they had no evidence, the BBC admitted 6 complaints against DJ Tim Westwood who police spoke to once. Downing Street stated that aware of ‘reports and speculation’, Boris referred to the ex-whip as ‘Pincher by name, Pincher by nature’, but didn’t know of any substantiated allegations. The National Gallery was evacuated when Just Stop Oil protesters superimposed an apocalyptic future vision onto Constable’s Haywain and glued themselves to the frame. The next day, they augmented The Last Supper at the Royal Academy. Motorists staged country-wide motorway go-slows. Yorkshire cops deployed stingers and chilled-out Bristol cops provided an escort, but arrested 12 for blocking the Prince of Wales Bridge. Due to local food costs, school caterers switched from chicken to turkey and beef to gammon, largely imported. No fuel for teachers, Sri Lanka extended school closures another week. Suspecting bird flu killed chicks on the Farne Isles, NT banned boat trips. 6 were massacred and 36 injured during a Chicago Independence Day parade. Culprit and wannabee rapper Robert E. Crimo III posted cartoons of himself doing the shooting.

Waking frequently, I ended up oversleeping Tuesday. Phil sorted stuff still in bags from Leeds and gave me a posh ruler for to-scale measuring: handy for all that model-building I did! Feeling sleepy, I quit writing for active chores to be stymied by him nabbing the hoover.

Wage growth below inflation, The Resolution Foundation warned 1:4 people’s savings wouldn’t last a month if they lost their job. Lynch told the RMT conference the current strike was the fight of a lifetime. Offered 6%, Bosch Rexworth factory workers in Fife walked out. High street coffee almost £3 a cup, Pret a Manger returned to profit. Hundreds of BA flights cancelled, EasyJet COO Peter Bellew quit over chaos. 40% of travel insurance policies gave insufficient strike or covid cover. At 7.00 a.m., former top FCO civil servant Lord Simon McDonald, published a letter telling Kathryn Stone Boris knew about The Pincher in 2019, belying claims allegations were ‘unsubstantiated’. It was news to ex-foreign minister Rabid Raab. Boris blathered to Chris Mason it was a mistake to make The Pincher a whip. Barely sensical, he ‘tried to explain’ he was ‘focused on other things’. Yeah! Saving your own skin! MPs in constituencies over the weekend asked how many boys they’d touched up and ministers sick of looking stupid fire-fighting for their boss, Rishi and Goblin Saj resigned early evening. The Goblin said: “I can no longer, in good conscience, continue to serve in this government.” Rishi wrote: “The public rightly expect government to be conducted properly, competently and seriously.” Nads Zahawi hilariously became Chancellor on the spot. Tarzan Heseltine told Newsnight it was the end. Instrumental in ousting Thatcher, he should know. 12 overnight resignations included solicitor general Alex Chalk. Boris predictably phoned Vlod.

Again up late Wednesday, I worked on the journal and watched PMQs. Keir said promoting The Pincher despite known predatory behaviour was serious; the PM handed him power and was propped up by a party defending the indefensible. A ‘charge of the very light brigade’, we needed rid of the ‘zed list cast of nodding dogs’. Boris reiterated labour had no plan, rudely pointed at the shadow cabinet and disbelieved Keir’s vow to not re-join the EU against the will of the people which had incensed Guardianistas. Ian Blackford guffawed at Boris’ hope of 3 terms in office: “If a week is a long time in politics, 10 days is a lifetime.” Instead of discussing the cost of living and Brexit, as usual, it was all about Boris. Rather than the Monty Python Black Knight, he was the dead parrot. Liz Saville said as the PM always put his political survival before the country’s interests, he was the best recruitment sergeant for independence they could wish for. Tory backbenchers on the attack, was it time to do the decent thing and resign? Lindsay Hoyle told applauding MPs they should be ashamed. Delivering a resignation statement, Goblin Saj said he wasn’t one of life’s quitters, cared deeply about public service, it was a privilege to be trusted in a tough role, nothing mattered more than people’s health, and paid tribute to all in health and social care motivated by the national interest. But they couldn’t allow division to become entrenched, treading a tightrope between loyalty and integrity was now impossible and it was unfair to be made to defend ‘lies’. He’d given the benefit of the doubt over Partygate but enough was enough, problems started at the top, that wouldn’t change, and the choice to stay in the cabinet was an active decision.

Phil headed for Leeds and I for errands in nasty drizzle, getting inflated cough sweets and PJs, £1 crop pants to use for patches on worn-out ones, and DVDs in charity shops. I stopped to reminisce with New Gran and Partner babysitting outside Corner Pub about when it resembled an after-school club.

The RCN said the end of special NHS covid leave showed how little the government cared about staff. Hospitals re-introduced mask-wearing. Unaware it’d gone away, did it explain last months’ dream? On the day of the NI threshold rise, the pound dropped against the dollar. 38 resignations by teatime the most within 24 hours in history, a cabinet delegation plus Graham Brady, waited to tell the PM time was up, as he told the public liaison committee he was getting on with governing the country. Refusing to go, he called the Glove-Puppet a snake and sacked him. Reporters stood in Downing Street battling chants of ‘Boris out!’

On the market Thursday, a customer discussed lobsters with the fishmonger. ”What about langoustines?” I asked, to get a tirade about the only Fleetwood trawler being foreign-owned. I didn’t ask did he vote Brexit! I continued onto the co-op after lunch, gardened in warm sun when Walking Friend came by on her way to town and invited me for a drink. She sat on the bench while I cleared up and The Widower walked his shorn dog past. “Has she had a haircut?” In reply, he removed his hat to display a buzzcut. “That’s dramatic!” I waited outside the pet shop then in a seething square while she erranded. Cafés shutting, I consented to Corner Pub where New Gran and Partner promptly left. “Typical! The one time I’m stopping!” I joked. Walking Friend bought us pints and herself a nibble. Saying she often sat home alone when not working or walking, I invited her for coffee anytime. We’d left Phil doing a work for Alexa. I texted ‘3 guesses’ to which he replied: ‘I only need 1!’ When he arrived, she insisted on buying another round while he ate her congealed garlic bread and made friends with a dog. Behind on the drinking, he wanted another pint, then got hungry. Her bus due, we bade thanks and goodbye. Drowsy after the beer, sleep eluded me until tinnitus suddenly stopped and the world went quiet.

Reporters had reason to stand in Downing Street for once. After a tsunami of 60 government resignations, Boris finally quit, as party leader, not PM. Deflecting blame onto his colleagues, he hastily reshuffled cabinet into a ‘caretaker government’, promising no ‘major change of direction’ ‘til election of a new leader. Phil remarked on the typical Britishness of The Pincher being the final straw after a tsunami of lies! Andrea Jenkyns gave the finger on her way to become education minister. “What a great example to young people!” I exclaimed. “It’s like a corrupt government of a loser country. They all need shoving against the wall!” John Major said the PM should go immediately and Keir threatened a confidence vote if he didn’t. Leadership contenders reaching 11 within days, Boris didn’t endorse any in case it scuppered their chances. Vlod sad, the EU were glad and hoped to ‘reset’ the relationship with the UK. NCA arrested people-traffickers and seized dinghies and paraphernalia from warehouses across Europe. Foreigners allowed at Hajj for the first time in 2 years, 1 million selected by lottery had to be under 65, vaccinated and test negative for covid. Former Japanese PM Shinzo Abe was assassinated while campaigning and Rollerball legend James Khan died.

Erase and Rewind?

A knock on the door Friday signalled Walking Friend dropping off a promised item. She asked was I alright after the pub. “Yes and no; it was lovely but there was loads of stuff I didn’t get done.” “I know. We’ll plan it next time.” Intending to go for a walk after I‘d draft-posted the journal, it was rather late and I still felt tired. Instead, I raked leaves and helped Phil rescue confused bees. Among the comings and goings, Decorating Neighbour asked if we knew anything about End Neighbour. Meant to be holidaying, she had covid. “I’ve no idea. Her daughter said nothing when we saw her Sunday” After drinking rather a lot of wine, I slept reasonably well and had a long episodic dream involving weird office-related crap.

NatWest staff on under £32,000 offered a 4% rise, Unite said it was better than a one-off payment. Oil prices up again, wind power was the cheapest ever. Keir and Rayner were cleared of breaking covid laws during beergate. Gammons whinged about woke Durham cops. Yep, just like Bristol!

Woken by mild leg cramp and loud talking outside, I rose drowsily Saturday. Making brekkie stressful in a cluttered kitchen even though I’d washed up Friday night, I wondered where the hell it all came from? Phil related a mildly racist joke (actually tweeted by Alistair Campbell in April): An Englishman, an American and an Indian walk into a bar. The barman says, ‘the usual Mr. Sunak?’ Putting recycling out, Welsh Art Friend was collecting the baby from young neighbours’ house for an outing. A recent operation explained her absence from Open Studios but she was recovering well. Other artists we’d expected to see all had covid apparently. We got lucky there after all the art events we’d attended recently! She offered to put fliers up to promote Phil’s IT services when we got round to doing them. A bit of a breeze made the warmth bearable enough to repeat my birthday walk during which we admired bright skies and blooms, ate pasties at the farm shop and gathered a few wimberries (see Cool Placesⁱⁱ).

Hardly any breeze, Sunday became hot. Suffering dodgy guts, I wondered was it caused by the beer? The cheap bacon tasty but 2 rashers short of a weekend, Phil said it sounded like I’d devised an expression. Not the first neologism we’d invented. The laptop proclaimed no internet. I waited ages to send birthday greetings to a cousin, edit photos and write a haiga. On the way back from the co-op, a couple of women on the street below who’d put water out for geese, were surrounded. “You’ll never get rid of them now!” I chuckled. Sitting on the garden bench, I saw a plate of mushrooms in front of the mini-greenhouse and asked The Woman Next Door on her step were they hers? “Yes.” “What are they doing there?” “Drying.” “Well, I need access and they’re not in the sun.” She moved them to her wall. The way clear, I checked the celery to discover munched leaves and placed shards round the stalks to put the slugs off. It didn’t. Phil brought ancient chilli seeds out to pot and helped clear up. A strange man laden with eggs and berries, visited The Woman Next Door. He’d parked in the middle of street but guided him into a space before they went out. “Who’s that?” asked Phil. “How the hell should I know?” Seeing him early the next day, I speculated it was a boyfriend. We ate lunch outside, dozed, and moved from shade to sun but still hot at 6, retreated indoors. Exhausted, I wrestled with sleep in the hot, bright night and got up to gaze at stars, minimise the light, then tossed and turned to the meditation soundtrack.

On Politics North, new Levelling Up minister Lia Nici repeated the misogynistic slur that Rayner opened her legs in The House, leading to a row with Naz Shah. Widely condemned, why hadn’t the presenter called Nasty Nici out on the spot? Anticipating summer travel chaos, Operation Brock restarted in Kent. After an interminable 2 weeks, Novax won the tennis.

Already sunny at 6.30 a.m. Monday, I opened the bathroom window to let a bug out and went back to bed. interrupted my writing for a counter-signature on his high street store contract. Assuring me scribing with the laptop touchpad was easy, my signature came out as a worse scrawl than usual! We had better luck using the ipad. I performed niggly chores, greeted Next Door and Strange Man and suppressed annoyance at a lack of help (Monday was often busy for Phil too). Assembling various materials to clean a kitchen chair outside, whatever I tried, the blotches kept re-appearing. Phil had a go during a break in google work but it looked worse than ever. I decided the posh paint had gone funny, found nothing suitable in the coal-hole, searched fruitlessly online for new, and said I’d try locally. Falling asleep outside during the longest heatwave for 50 years, I showered and rested on the bed. Although muggy, I slept well that night.

Scotrail drivers agreed on 5% but Aslef voted for summer strikes. A 24 hour Post Office strike with more predicted, bosses whinged they lost £1m a day due to bad relations. Migrants carried a dinghy across a French beach and 442 later arrived in Kent. Sick of criticism for providing a taxi service, the navy didn’t want to take the lead in dealing with channel crossings. A covid lockdown shut all casinos in the Chinese gambling enclave of Macau. The 1922 committee drew up leadership race rules. Candidates needed the backing of 20 MPs and there’d be a new PM by 5^th September. Steve Barclay, tory party favourite Ben Wally, Goblin Saj (amidst tax evasion allegations), Grant Shats and unheard-of Rehman Chisti, dropped out, leaving 8 in the race Tuesday: Rishi Rich (releasing slick video Friday), Trussed-Up Liz, Tom Tughat, Penny Mordar (who withdrew her video when Johnny Peacock objected to inclusion), Kemi Babadook (who wanted to abolish teaching assistants because proles didn’t need educating), Swellen (saying she’d cut taxes as there were too many able people on benefits), The C**t and Nads Zahawi (amid yet more scandal).

Overcast but still warm, writing was hard Tuesday. As head fug and achy eyes set in, I called a halt and went to town for errands and a boogie to radio 2 in the convenience store. Two women queuing in front of me also jigged, remarking we didn’t go out dancing anymore. Heading for what used to be the paint shop, I realised it was now an Asian food store. I thought the fresh air would be invigorating but possibly due to mugginess, my head drooped as I plodded home. Noisy all day, canal works finally packed in for 10 mins peace. I measured the crop pants, cut material off the legs and made PJ patches. Still fatigued, as the sun emerged early evening, we nipped outside for some vit. D and midge bites!

Every ambulance service on red alert, trusts declared a state of emergency due to covid admissions and the heatwave. Meanwhile, Queenie awarded the NHS the George Cross. May Parsons who administered the first covid jab, was among representatives from all 4 UK nations. Heathrow told airlines to ‘stop selling summer tickets’. Now lasting until 11^th September, no wonder we could never find cheap deals anymore. Mo Farah was praised for revealing he wasn’t a child refugee but a trafficked domestic slave. The home office graciously announced they’d take no action but would investigate. £1 now worth $1.19, the Euro fell to just below $1. The war was blamed. NASA showcased cosmic pictures by the James Webb space telescope. The next day, the Chinese said they’d detected a FRB** like a heartbeat, in space.

Wednesday, Phil had an appointment for someone to collect his Leeds studio fridge. I made him a bottle of pop to take and myself coffee and watched shenanigans. On Daily Politics, Tony Danker, CBI wanted less business tax and Heather WTF Whately came out with the same old rubbish: ’I love Rishi!’ Pandemonium at the start of PMQs, Lindsay Hoyle shouted: ‘shut up! order, order!’ Alba MPs Neale Hanvey and Kenny Macaskill were marched out of the chamber to murmurs of insurrection. Keir suggested a demob happy PM free of shackles, could say what he truly thought and forget about following the rules, so was it time to scrap non-dom status? Boris not changing his response, Keir went onto a ‘simpler question’ concerning offshore schemes letting people avoid tax. The Bumbler bizarrely responded any of the leadership candidates could wipe the floor with ‘captain crasherooney snoozefest‘. What was the clown on? Keir persisting on the tories benefiting from tax scams, Boris spouted lies about tax and benefits to a line of nodding dogs on the front bench wearing white and green Srebrenica flowers. Ian Blackford boringly made no jokes.

Warmth tempered by a breeze, I ate lunch outside, cleaned under the garden bench and chatted to a woman walking her elderly cat. Interminable beeping stopped just in time for a rest. Considering going outside again, Phil’s head loomed at the window. I opened the door and replenished the coffee. He followed me to the kitchen, doing my head in jabbering excitedly about his new mate and using the music studio for his photography. About to work on the journal, he asked for assistance making videos for a google work, set up a white screen, screwed his phone on a large tripod and taught me how to record. Quick when it worked, a faff when it didn’t, we called a halt for dinner.

Bereaved families called 200,000 covid deaths ‘a damning milestone’. Resolution Foundation found the richest 10% of Brits owned 29% of disposable income. Only Greece and Cyprus had worse economic deterioration. BOE told banks to double the buffer in case of hardship. Wetherspoons lost £30m – nowt to do with Brexit, eh Tim! The SCE monster was installed in an old lido on Weston beach as part of Unboxed. Formerly known as the Festival of Brexit, there was no mention of Brexit! An extreme weather warning extended to next Tuesday, the army set fire to Salisbury Plain, competing with French and Iberian wildfires. Official buildings and posh homes invaded, instead of resigning, the Sri Lankan president fled, appointed the PM acting president, declared a state of emergency, and a curfew in the western region encompassing Colombo. Protestors then overtook the PM’s compound as grim-faced police fired tear gas and water cannons. The gold walls of a politician interviewed on Newsnight looked pricey enough to cover the national debt. A French inquiry concluded Liverpool fans weren’t to blame for the Paris match debacle 28^th May.

In the co-op Thursday, a few extras brought me above budget but I got free redcurrants from the community garden wall and saw a ringed butterfly for the first time. Storing groceries, I noticed we were low on essentials which I should’ve bought instead of luxuries. Irked by another Windows update leading to lack of productiveness and being indoors on a sunny afternoon, I announced I was going to the park.

Descending the steps reminded Phil he’d seen geese ascend the previous evening. I thought they used the zebra crossing! Today, they were all on the church lawn. We walked along the blooming towpath, where even the island below the aqueduct was festooned. The park busy after school, we bought café ice creams and squatted on stools to munch and watch an entourage of kids pursuing cyclists dressed as sloths. AS they packed up, I discovered they were advertising for festival work. Taking a long route home, we stopped to admire a buddleia when an old art classmate walked by. She stopped to chat further up. Back home, we took coffee outside and Phil fixed pegs while I faffed with a rickety folding chair before extricating broken pots from overgrown ivy. Next Door But One put currants on Next Door’s folding table, explaining the mystery. The Woman Next Door told me about the new age therapy stuff she was studying and the value of ‘precious’ wimberries and came to look at a frog on the edge of the open compost bin. I called Phil to do a rescue but it disappeared in the ivy.

Hit the Ground

Having given up the night before, editing photos and blogging was thankfully faster Friday. As I prepared to clean the bathroom, Phil nabbed the hoover for the attic. Sick of tripping over photography gear, I offered to help sort the clutter but he insisted on doing some cleaning first. Dumping dead flowers in warm drizzle (did that count as rain on St Swithin’s?), the sun came out when I went back in.

1:18 infected, JCVI advised autumn boosters be offered to the clinically vulnerable, health & care workers and the over 50’s. About time! A TUC study revealed the UK had the worst ‘real wage squeeze’ of all G7 countries. Unite’s Sharon Graham said employers making huge profits must pay workers more. On the first televised tory leadership debate, Tom Tughat was the only one who agreed Boris wasn’t honest. The others evaded the question. Asked did they trust politicians, not one audience member raised a hand. Not from Bury market then! Accused of lying over self-ID by Babadook, Mordor got in a muddle. Only capable of working from script, she proved to be quite thick beneath the veneer, supporting Lord Frosty’s claim she was useless! A red ‘extreme heat’ weather warning prompted Downing Street to declare a national emergency for next week. Phil snorted: “this country is lame!”

He got to the kitchen after I’d broken my Saturday brekkie egg and commented cooking eggs was quick. Yeah, when someone else has done all the work! I thought. Warm sun tempered by a breeze, we went on a foraging walk before the dangerous red heat arrived. Popping in the co-op, we stalked the aisles for 3 for 2 snack food which had moved. My Mate at the kiosk said something derogatory about an old man who always wore cowboy gear. “Be nice!” I admonished and let him serve The Cowboy first before he whinged about the coming heatwave. “Are you working? It’s cool in here.” “Yes but it’s getting here.” We ascended fields to a lane lined with wimberry shrubs, picked, munched pastries and admired views before discovering an easier way down (See Cool Placesⁱⁱ). Recovering from the exertions, Phil complained he was too hot. “What do you expect?” I admonished, “You don’t drink water or wear a hat or shades.”

An effort to get going Sunday, I composed a haiga and improvised redcurrant relish. Phil sorted attic stuff. Allegedly still too cluttered for me to go up, I helped dispose of boxes. Cooler and cloudy to start, he reiterated the red heat warning was a load of pants but it became fiercely sunny in the afternoon. We ate lunch al fresco and stayed out a couple of hours, avoiding buzzing bees. An old art teacher came past with his dog. He’d semi-retired and passed on event co-ordination to The Printer, and admin to Welsh Art Friend. As he knew them both, it was definitely worth Phil sticking up fliers.

Boris accused of partying and going up in an RAF tornado instead of chairing cobra meetings, Rayner said he should step down now. The home office select committee found the Rwanda ploy no deterrent. Labour shortages predicted to cost the economy £30bn a year, there were calls to reset Brexit. How did that work? 2 billion vaccinated, covid cases rose in India to a 4-month high of 20,528. The second leadership debate on ITV an hour of in-fighting, the third due to air on Sky was cancelled when Rishi Rich and Trussed-Up declined to take part. 10 armed robbers raided the Apple store in Covent Garden.

After an unusually good night’s sleep, I donned minimal clothing Monday, did small chores, saved dumped items near the recycling and undrunk tea (very nice with ice and lemon on the very hot day), and posted the haiga. The co-op top-up cheap, My Mate was keeping cool but feared travelling home. Phil interrupted my afternoon writing by melodramatically declaring a sink blockage. Fizzing the crud of limited effect, a plunger worked marvellously. Still boiling after a cold shower, resting was impossible but it was comfortable enough to sit out by 7. I asked The Widower how he was faring. Okay so far, he dreaded grandchild’s grad ceremony in Manchester the next day.

ONS data showed when 9.4% inflation was taken into account, pay fell the fastest March-May since records began. Wages grew in the public sector by only 1.5% as opposed to 7.2% in the private sector. Public sector pay offers between 4 and 5%, and no extra cash for the NHS, doctors, dentists and cops would get the most. The labour motion rejected as it would’ve forced tories to state they had confidence in Boris to avoid a general election, the government won another, strangely brought by themselves. Boris accused Keir and ‘the deep state’ of plotting to reverse Brexit. What conspiracy site had he been on? Keir said the delusion was never-ending. On the 10^th day of temperatures above 40⁰C, forest fires surrounded a train in Zamora, Spain. The UK heatwave brought record highs to Wales, slower trains on buckled rails, car breakdowns, power cuts, grounded RAF jets at Brize Norton and planes at Luton due to a ‘heat incident’ (aka melting tarmac). The ‘common sense’ brigade on Jeremy Vine joined by Charlie Mullet from his Spanish villa, guffawed at TUC advice to work from home. Notts cop chief Caroline Henry was banned from driving. Vlod sacked 60 alleged spies from the Ukrainian security service and SBU.

25.9⁰C overnight on Emley Moor, Tuesday started hot. Glare making computer work hard, I climbed step ladders to tape a space blanket over the window. Ineffective, Phil’s reflector worked better. A sirocco-type wind hit me as I opened the door; so scorching I needed a hat to put washing out! It was bone-dry by early afternoon. Phil stood in the full-on heat then sat on the bench and played plinky holiday music on his phone while I squatted on the doorstep enjoying a breeze on my neck until sweating, I retreated indoors. Phil declared even the shade too hot and pinned up the crops for me to make shorts. As the sun disappeared, the temperature dropped a few degrees but still warm and oppressive, southern showers freakily evaporated before reaching the ground.

Unsurprisingly, records were smashed all over. 37⁰C here, Bramham recorded 40⁰C, Coningsby, Lincs. 40.3 and Aysgarth Falls ran dry. Wildfires sparked major incidents in Sheffield and London where the fire service had their busiest day since WW2 and combusted horse poo in a compost heap engulfed houses in Wennington. Felled overhead powerlines at Peterborough halted East Coast mainline trains. Shats admitted the network couldn’t cope. Temperatures in Spain down to 39⁰C, they reached 41 in France. Tughat was knocked out of the leadership race in the third round of voting and Babadook in the fourth. At his last cabinet meeting, Boris got a leaving gift of Winston Churchill war books and declared himself great. Keir called him a ‘bullshitter’.

Having coped with the mega heatwave, hot flushes and sweats woke me at 5 a.m. Wednesday. It took a while to shake off wooziness. Contrary to predictions, Boris turned up for the last PMQs before summer jollies. Confidence in politicians at an all-time low, Kim Leadbeater wanted to know what advice he’d give to his successor? Boris replied he’d use the next few weeks to drive forward the agenda of uniting and levelling up and that was why they’d win again. Staying on to party and holiday more like! Keir followed up with another question of trust to which Boris waved his arms like a loon and called labour pointless plastic bollards round roadworks, with no plans of their own while the tories were outlawing wildcat strikes. Eh? They were already illegal! After falsely bragging of the ‘fastest economic growth in the G7’, his parting words were ‘hasta la vista, baby’. Heaven forfend!

Extreme heat over but still warm, we went out for fresh air, unintentionally retraced the Crossings Workshop walk and caught a glimpse of the misfit mallard (See Cool Placesⁱⁱ).

A women’s health strategy intended to address a range of issues with no money. Shats advised Doncaster council took over Robin Hood airport from Peel Group like in Teesside. As EDF got the go-ahead to build Sizewell C, five Just Stop Oil protestors who climbed gantries on the M25 were arrested. Mordor dropped, 160,000 tory members would choose between Rishi and Trussed-Up Liz. 36% aged 50-64 and 39% over 65, a tribe of ageing gammons would decide our next PM. Trussed-Up said she’d ‘hit the ground’. If only!

Fine drizzle late evening made for a fresher start Thursday. Leaden skies presaged fine afternoon sprinkles. By 5 p.m., it was as dark as winter. I drafted blogs and headed to the co-op, spotting an old pub mate for the 3^rd time in 2 weeks and scored the free trolley. Fridge failures during the heatwave meant literally not a sausage in the reduced meat section. I weaved past geese pecking at the odd green shoot amid still-dry moss between cobbles on the street below. I could only discern the youngers by dark patches on burgeoning wings and a squeak rather than a squawk. Walking Friend came round as arranged. We perused the old maps we’d found on a street corner, discussed the heatwave and Phil offered to look at her maintenance issues next week. She proposed drinks at the community pub afterwards. When she spotted our wall clock still showed GMT, Phil decided to alter it. She took her leave and I apologised for being boring. “You’re not boring.” “Yes we are. Doing domestics!” Rest impossible with beeping machinery, revving engines and screeching kids, exhaustion, tummy ache and hot flushes made me thoroughly miserable by bedtime, leading to fitful sleep and hazy dreams.

Baroness Harlot promised lessons would be learnt to inform future pandemics, in a ‘fair and robust’ covid inquiry. Witnesses compelled to submit evidence from September, public hearings would start next spring. Did she want satirical qualitative data? Testing positive for covid, Uncle Joe was doing ‘well’ isolated in the White House and taking anti-viral Paxlovid. State borrowing at an all-time high and consumer Tory leadership contenders focused on the economy. Rishi concentrated on balancing the books but Trussed-Up promised a different path, saying he and previous chancellors didn’t deliver growth, even though she’d previously endorsed their policies. Examining her pledges against a backdrop of inflation, low growth and high taxes, IFS found reversing the NI rise, cancelling the planned corporation tax rise and a moratorium on the green energy levy would cost a total of £34bn; (£4bn above current budget targets). A report by chief inspector of borders and immigration David Neel, said the home office response to the surge in channel crossings was poor, 200 absconded within 4 months of arrival and vulnerable migrants were left at risk in processing centres. As the government published its critical minerals strategy and gave Pensana £850m from the automotive transformation fund, Kwasi Modo visited the Salt End rare earth plant in Hull. Netflix lost 970,000 subscribers April-June. Subs up, maybe they shouldn’t have made their most expensive film ever, The Grey Man, wherein Ryan Gosling globe-trots and wrecks Prague.

Pride Comes Before A Fall

After cold showers all week, we luxuriated in baths Friday. I blogged while Phil spent an age getting through to Vodaphone. It was worth the wait to get unlimited texts, calls and data, for less money. Head fug setting in, I abandoned writing for a spot of housework. Chilly and darkly grey, fine rain made the crows soggy and us chilly by early evening.

As it was revealed he paid himself via tax haven assets from his hedge fund, Rishi faced more questions over his finances. Meanwhile, Trussed-Up said being a Lib Dem and supporting remain was a mistake and leaving the EU had been a huge success. The start of the summer holidays, BA staff offered an 8% rise called off industrial action, an accident on the M20 led to 14-hour queues and The Port of Dover declared a ‘critical incident’. The French blamed for ‘woefully inadequately resourcing’ 100% checks leading to 4-hour waits to clear customs, they in turn blamed a glitch in the Eurotunnel. Authorities there said it had nowt to do with it. The benefits of Brexit, eh, Liz? An ‘emotional’ Antonio Guterres brokered a deal between Russia and Ukraine to alleviate the grain crisis. Hours later, Russian missiles hit Odesa. Ukraine vowed to get the grain out regardless. Gazprom re-started Nord Stream 2 gas deliveries, at 30% of previous levels.

Saturday morning, I wasn’t sure if vertigo was from moderate drinking, a manifestation of fatigue or illness. Both flaky, we stayed home watching Midsomer Murders as there was nowt else on telly. I took recycling out and shared health issues with Decorating Neighbour who sympathised with me. Better himself, he was back working which was good. I worked on the new shorts until my fingers became sore from sewing. After dinner, Phil ran to the shop for tonic, only finding lemonade to go with gin.

A rise of 7% rather than 30%, marked the start of a dip in the latest covid wave. On BBC Breakfast, Doctors Bauld and Smith told us 1/3 were reinfections. According to the WHO, subvariants BA.4 and 5 had been rising since June. Figures released later exposed 810 covid deaths the last week of July, the smallest increase since June. An Antipodean flu epidemic was unsurprising after their extended lockdowns.

Fine rain interspersed with sun Sunday, I searched for rainbows. Seeing none, I got knobbly veg and joked with a fellow punter my cabbage would be a good Midsomer Murder weapon: “You could eat the evidence! I watch far too much of them.” “I’m not judging!” chuckled the young server. Stopping to redistribute heavy bags on the way home, I risked being run over when an onion rolled behind a reversing car and saw a ‘we are open’ sign at the erstwhile grocers. Sure I heard voices, Phil went out early evening to be offered a sausage roll by crusty vegans. Opinions divided on the local Facebook page, some said the squat was earmarked as a café bar or ice cream parlour, and others that disturbed asbestos made it unsafe.

Queuing to enter the Eurotunnel, 600 lorries waited for up to 15 hours. A fire on Lenham Heath was visible from the M20. Bill Alexander bravely ploughed a firebreak in a fellow farmer’s spring barley crop to stop the flames getting any further. Trussed-Up and Rishi Rich (in Grantham) said the Rwanda ploy was a good idea. Both seeking to emulate Thatcher, albeit from different eras, Keir laughed at ‘Thatcherite Cosplay’.

Still wobbly Monday, I posted a haiga and blocked a heap of American military trolls stacked up in Facebook ‘friend requests’. Taking rubbish out, the trellis had collapsed again and fell to bits when I picked it up. I yelled for Phil to do a quick bodge. Carrying the lunch tray, I tripped and fell forward on the kitchen steps. Screaming, I managed to keep hold and avoid breakage. Phil asked if it was a flip-flop related incident. “It’s a first if it is.” Fuming he hadn’t asked if I was hurt, I said I hated Mondays. “Why?” “They’re shit! There’s always loads to do and then even more on top of that!” ”I don’t like them either.” “So why are you asking?” “Trying to be helpful.” “Well, its’ not!” I wiped a splotch off my jeans and rolled the leg up. Expecting a bruised knee, I found an angry graze which bled when cleaned it.

A health & social care committee workforce report said with over 99,000 vacancies in the NHS and 105,000 in social care, the government failed to plan or take decisive action. A rise in childhood hepatitis in 35 countries was linked to covid lockdowns as kids hadn’t built up immunity to 2 common viruses. OBR calculated Brexit cost the economy £50 billion so far. Still in denial, Brexiteers on Jeremy Vine claimed we already had to get passport stamps when we were in the EU. Not for France we didn’t! The C**t said it was revenge for mucking up plans of a united Europe. As Tory gammons called for Boris to be put on the ballot paper, the BBC staged a head-to-head debate in red wall Stoke. Rishi criticised Trussed-Up’s idea to delay tax rises by not paying off covid debts for 3 years, as it’d lose them the next election. Keir seemed to agree, calling Trussed-Up the latest graduate from the school of ‘magic money tree economics’ and pledged a new Industrial Strategy Council to bring economic growth, proving he was just as much a global capitalist as the rest of the wankers. Confusion over whether this meant they’d ditch nationalisation, shadow ministers Rachel Reeves and Sam Tarry waded in. Keir later confirmed rail would become public as contracts ran out, but not utilities, as that meant paying compensation, according to We Own It. If you thought it was bad the Blackpool illumination red Indian display was only just junked, an arcade game allowed players to sit on a horse and shoot them. Calling it a ‘legacy piece’, it was removed from Weston’s Grand Pier after Emily Crossing complained. Eurovision 2023 would be staged in the UK. Quite right, seeing as we should’ve won!

Feeling thoroughly crap and tearful Tuesday, Phil commiserated and agreed HRT might be a good idea. Menopause symptoms compounded by money worries, it was hard to concentrate and after snapping at him over a daft niggle, I admitted the anger was really about the dire financial situation. After some harsh words, we managed to calm down to share thoughts and feelings, discuss options, laugh and hug. Seeing a payment from BG on a bank statement, I checked the energy account to find the small amount was for leccy and DD was slightly reduced, but gas payments were set to treble! I called and spoke to a barely intelligible man, eventually getting it down to double. The GP surgery only taking emergency calls in the morning, I rang after lunch and was offered an appointment next week 4 miles away. I didn’t even know the place! An ‘embargo’ on local appointments, I asked what did I need to do to get one? Phone at 8 and ‘pretend’ it’s urgent! Thinking intense night-time itching was an insect bite, the discomfort extended to other areas which felt hot even though I couldn’t see anything.

The driest summer since 1976 and the driest July since 1836 in the South East, the National Drought Group met urgently and asked customers to use less water to avoid restrictions. Another head-to-head leaders’ debate on Talk TV was halted when host Kate McCann feinted; or fell into a coma at the sheer inanity of Truss and Rishi! He later hinted at a U-turn on energy VAT. IMF growth forecasts were downgraded to 2.9% globally, 1.2% for the Eurozone, 1% in the USA and .5% in the UK because of gas prices and ‘lack of investment in skills and infrastructure’. Only Russia worse, so much for Boris’ hubris! As Italy planned to spend an extra £12bn shielding consumers from energy costs, the EU rationed gas.

Hearing a moth waking early Wednesday, I saw no sign of it. Itchiness persisting, Phil said that was why he never lied about medical urgency in case it came true! I fetched brekkie and rang the GPs. 19^th in the queue, I eventually spoke to a receptionist. About to book me the last slot at the local surgery, he exclaimed: “Oh, it’s just gone!” and arranged an advice call. The duty doctor agreed the symptoms may be menopausal but advised blood tests to rule out anything else before considering HRT. Which of course meant ringing back after 2. Being told to use antihistamines and cream, I took a pill, applied E45 (of limited help) and caught up on housework. I helped Phil design a flier for his artist’s services. “I enjoyed that,” I said. “What?” “Working together on something. Far more constructive than arguing.” “True.” Walking Friend not replying to a text, I called her to hear strange noises. About to go up regardless, my mobile rang but there was nothing at the other end. She then phoned from her landline. Informed she’d have no internet all day, that evidently meant no service at all. At her house, me and her chatted while Phil sorted maintenance issues. She asked if we wanted to go for beer. Too weary for the pub, instead, we drank freshly-ground espresso and arranged tea at ours followed by a pint Sunday. Bedtime reading was disturbed by noisy drunkards and a large moth fluttering on the lamp. The pesky blighter must’ve been there all day!

Spending not tracked and only 2% of international arrivals quarantined having covid, The PAC found it was impossible to know if the traffic lights system was worth £486m of taxpayers’ money. They also reported that £777m covid testing contracts awarded to Randox didn’t follow basic procedures and officials did nothing to address potential conflicts of interest even though they knew Owen Pattycake had direct contact with The Cock. Randox called their conclusions ‘deeply flawed and wrong’. Joining RMT pickets in the latest rail strikes, shadow transport minister Sam Tarry was sacked. Keir claimed it was over unauthorised media appearances. Owen Jones spluttered he’d had enough of Waitrose Boy Keir and John McDonnell said it was time for co-ordinated action (aka a national strike). People incensed at Maccy D price rises, I thought they were far too cheap anyway and we had bigger things to worry about, such as the practice of deducting money from UC payments to pay off debts which the Joseph Rowntree Foundation wanted scrapped.

Knackered and sweaty from cleaning the bedroom Thursday, I was forced to go to the co-op to replenish basics, where the usual foray proved even more stressful and time-consuming as they’d shifted stock and hid gaps with beer and cola – let them drink boke! The freezer deal costing more than expected, on the way out, I realised it was now 6 items for a fiver. Only 5 in the cabinet, I returned to the till and was told with carte d’or sold out, I was meant to have 2 Vienetta. “I’ll take it!” A palaver ensued of scanning for a refund, then again with the 6 items. Having seen the window cleaners’ van, I thought ours weren’t due but on slogging home, the house front was dripping. Phil said they insisted it was our turn. I raged at the inconvenience and he said I was hangry.

We ate a hasty lunch, then Walking Friend rang to say she had a problem Sunday. “Oh. I’ve just bought the stuff.” “I can still come for tea, but not the pub.” {What a shame – not!} “Come eat Vienetta!” After lodging a complaint to the co-op about shifting stock and amending it for a ‘Tales’ blogⁱⁱⁱ, I railed at lack of productiveness and looked for a late summer holiday let, eventually finding a bargain. Paying a low deposit, they cheekily took the balance the next day. Trying to rest, it dawned on me the window cleaners were right. Aware it was daft, I couldn’t stop fretting and sent them a straight-forward apology via Facebook. Their reply shirty, I reiterated it was a genuine mistake on our part and added a smiley face. Very itchy at bedtime, I researched DIY treatments and tried intensive hand cream containing glycerine which worked immediately. I later discovered sensitive bodywash helped too.

2 separate scientific studies found ‘compelling evidence’ 2 coronavirus variants originated at the Wuhan fish market late 2019. With 4 asymptomatic cases, Jiangxi district re-entered lockdown. Announcing £5.1bn quarterly revenue on the eve of a 2-day strike, CWU accused BT of ‘gaslighting’. Of 74,230 households homeless or at risk, 10,560 worked fulltime. Shelter’s Polly Neate said record-high rents and crippling bills sent people working every hour, ‘over the edge’. She called on the new PM to ‘get a grip,’ unfreeze housing benefit and build decent social homes with rents pegged to local incomes, to end homelessness for good. Maybe they could live in the Saudi Line – the vertical city to house 9 million resembled a dystopian sci-fi.

Sleep disrupted by anxiety and discomfort, I was on the verge of tears Friday. Sure the itchiness was menopausal, Phil said I should’ve had HRT years ago. “Look who’s talking, Captain Hindsight!“ I added graphics to Phil’s flier and printed a draft. Puzzled by sizing issues, we gave up and went to town, finding cough drops had gone up again, as had sweet bags. Sweet Shop Man explained the bags were bigger to fit labels on, for which the printer cost a staggering 3 grand. Phil loitered while I stood in a slow Boots queue. 2 crusties (perhaps from the squat) mocked middle-class vegans (look who’s talking!) The cashier served 1 customer and handed over change at snail’s pace. I abandoned my items and stormed out. “Surprised you lasted that long!” Laughed Phil. Sitting riverside, we discussed posters on the old grocers inciting the squatting of Air BnB’s. Town awash with 200, was it practical? Were they businesses or residential? Back home, we solved the flier misprint by converting the file format. Flitting between laptop and printer, the pocket of my combats ripped when it caught on the sofa arm. Just as I’d finished a pile of stitching!

ONS estimated 1:20 people had coronavirus in the week up to 20 July, compared to 1:17 the week before. Hospital admissions decreased from 18.2 per 100,000 to 16.3. Centrica profits 1.3bn, Shell £11.5bn and BP £6.9bn, details of fuel bill rebates revealed we’d get £66 off direct debits October and November, then £67 until March. Martin Lewis said the zombie government should do more and the rich bragged about the size of their bills. AQA began strike action, potentially affecting the release of exam results.

Saturday greyly mizzly, we predicted soggy dressing up at Pride Party in the Park. Otherwise, we’d have gone to see the Kate Bush tribute. Instead, I cleared piles of clutter in the kitchen and stitched the combats.

Sleep interrupted by raucous drunks at 3 a.m. Sunday, I stuck earplugs in, rose flushed and crampy, fetched tea and noted chilli plants on the kitchen windowsill needed thinning out. Looking for space to put them, I saw paper peeling from the living room ceiling and chunks of plaster on the sofa. I yelled up to Phil who cleared the plaster lumps, googled DIY fixes, ruminated over supplies and made the ceiling safe until he could get to a trad hardware shop in the next village . I moved furniture so we could sit on the sofa, washed and air-dried a stinky throw and picked crocosmia for a kitchen vase before a trip to the co-op. The normal scant affair, I searched for wines to use a member discount. Seeing none, I got cheap plonk. I swept up dust, showered and changed and reinstalled the throw, enjoying the late sun’s warmth before a lovely evening with Walking Friend during which we ate, drank and exhausted our 1970’s CD music collection.

Resignation honours a list of donors, JCB tory donor Lord Bamford hosted a belated wedding party for Boris and Carrie. Steve Bray stood outside Daylesford House with a banner reading: ‘corrupt tory government’. Dreadful Doris was lambasted for re-tweeting a pic of Rishi stabbing Boris in the back.

It was revealed the Prince of Wales charitable trust accepted donations from the Bin Laden family, leading to more questions. Giving no details of how they’d violated conditions of purchase, Gazprom suspended Latvia’s gas supply. England beat Germany 2-1 in the Women’s Euro Final. Winland academy advertised jobs on LinkedIn to write applications for Chinese students. A shame they were caught; I could do that!

Thanks for reading Corvus Diaries. Updates will follow later in the year.

Hasta La Vista!

*The Liquidator, Harry J Allstars

**Frequent Radio Burst

References:

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

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

iii. Tales From The Co-op Notes on life, the universe and stuff that sucks: Tales from the Co-op Vol 5 (maryc1000.blogspot.com)

Part 90 – Isn’t it Moronic?

“The gaffer picks the team, that’s how it goes and that’s how it has always gone. Frankly, I couldn’t care less about the circus of who’s in, and who’s out, who’s up, who’s down, who knew, who didn’t” (Lisa Nandy)

Reshuffle kerfuffle

An ‘arctic shot’ brought overnight lows of -8, yellow ice warnings and a freezing start to Monday. Waking early, I planned to doze until the heating came on and fell proper asleep to be woken by Phil. After warming porridge, I made a huge effort to get moving, did nasty chores and donned the sensible boots and bear coat to take a sample to the surgery before the noon deadline. Black ice lurked on partially-cleared pavements and partially-gritted roads. Small crunchy drifts huddled against brickwork. Clumps of frilly leaves shivered off by the cold, settled prettily on iced shrubs. Irked Phil hadn’t made coffee for my return, I stomped down to the South Pole to fetch it and slumped on the sofa, posted blogs and worked on the next episode of the journal. As the temperature rose late evening, the snow disappeared as if by magic. At bedtime, I had a EHS episode which sounded like an actual explosion and I recalled a few recent incidents but not the dates.

Lampooners pointed out Omicron was an anagram of moronic. 11 confirmed cases in the UK and the mutant’s resistance to vaccines a mystery, JCVI maintained we were still better protected with boosters and recommended all adults got one after 3 months rather than 6. 12-15 year olds would be offered a second dose of Pfizer. More cases also found in Belgium, Austria, Denmark, France, Holland and Australia, G7 health ministers met. Rose Allin-Khan berated the government for the limited mandating of face-masks: ‘Does covid not spread in pubs?’ In the wake of Storm Arwen during which 3 died, people were stuck in the Tan Hill Inn for 3 days with an oasis tribute band and the I’m a Celeb set was damaged. At a ceremony to mark Barbados becoming an independent republic, Dame Sandra Mason was sworn in as president, Rihanna became a national hero and Bonny Prince Charlie appeared as a figurehead. In a shadow cabinet reshuffle, Yvette Coop was made shadow home secretary, David Lammy shadow foreign secretary and Lisa Nandy would shadow The Glove-Puppet on ‘levelling up’.* Outlining plans for overhauling rules and procedures on politicians’ behaviour, Rayner appeared unaware of the moves leading to speculation she was blindsided. Lisa ‘couldn’t care less’ about the ‘reshuffle kerfuffle’.

I was up with the 8 o’clock alarm Tuesday. A text link allowed me to track the gas engineer but required a log in. I left it until after exercise, by which time I’d missed a call from the guy himself. I phoned him to be told he’d be 20 minutes and got dressed just in time. We directed him to the boiler upstairs and I tidied some tools away downstairs so we didn’t get sued for injury. I’d just gone back up when he wanted to know where the timer was meaning I had to go back down again, then he asked where the gas metre was. I escorted him to the cubby hole and hung around in the South Pole until he’d done. He said everything was okay but advised on age and efficiency as usual. We assured him we knew but couldn’t afford a replacement until it wore out. In the co-op later, the fresh food aisles were almost bare thanks to yet another power cut. I had a member’s offer of a quid off prosecco and biccies. I got the fizz but eschewed the Fox’s fabulously biscuits – what was festive about jammy dodgers? At the kiosk, only the furthest till was open with a notice claiming it was to keep staff safe, but two of them stood chatting with no social distancing. Being served, I was deafened and stressed out by an awful fire alarm test.

My member’s points not added, the receipt said there was a problem with my card and I had to ring the freephone number. I rang later and was subsequently asked for feedback on the call. They stupidly wanted to know why I hadn’t use the website. It wasn’t an option, you morons!

The latest restrictions came into force at 4.00 a.m., mandating PCR tests for all returning travellers, 10 days’ isolation for anyone in contact, even if vaccinated, and face-coverings on public transport and in retail settings. Secondary schoolkids were ‘strongly advised’ to wear them in communal areas. Dr. Philippa Whitford MP pointed out the 2-day wait for a PCR result was confusingly less than the virus’ incubation period In a late vote, MPs extended the measures to March 2022. The 1922 committee feared a return to a ‘pingdemic’ while labour wanted to go further and require working from home. Doing the media rounds, Jenny Harries advised minimising social contacts to slow the spread of Omicron but amid concerns of the impact on hospitality, Boris contradicted her, saying there was no need to “change the overall guidance about how people should be living their lives.” At a press conference, he promised a booster within two months to everyone eligible thanks to help from the army and new vax centres. Amanda Pritchard pleaded for more volunteers. Pfizer CE Albert Bourla said they’d already started to develop a new vaccine which would be ready in 95 days. Gérald Darmanin suggested more talks with the UK to discuss proposals for a ‘balanced agreement’ to tackle the migrant crisis were imminent. Inflation in the eurozone reached 4.9%, the highest since 1997 and TSB were to shut 70 branches.

Nonsensical

Unlike the previous day, the alarm didn’t rouse me immediately Wednesday. Preparing to go out, it started teeming down leading to a rapid change of outerwear and a mild panic before going to the bus stop. In the next town, we made a few purchases from B&M, including the Fox’s fabulously biscuits. Phil disagreed that jammy dodgers weren’t festive and they were cheaper than the co-op even with the member’s offer. Heading into the Market Hall café, The Poet hurried in and out again. I gave a hasty greeting and wondered if we had to wear masks – some people did, some didn’t. Waiting for food, I perused the mad wall art and crazy junk shelves. Adding up the bill took ages. As they were short-staffed, I posited it was normally the job of an absentee.

Arriving at the health centre slightly early, there was no queue outside. But inside, a snaky red line led to a series of differently coloured stripes and thence to treatment rooms. We shared jokes with staff about it being like the game twister and nobody knowing if vaccines worked against new variants. Allowed in together, I had my booster first. The needle hard to get in my arm, the doctor remarked: “that was quite tough.” ‘Thanks’, I thought, ‘that’ll really hurt later!’ During the compulsory 15- minute sit in the waiting room, I noted the brand stamped on our cards. Affecting a booming film voice I declared: “Moderna Spikevax! That sounds like it could fight Omicron!” We left via the back door. I was bursting for a pee. “You can have a piddle in Lidl!” quipped Phil. We got a smattering of traditional Christmas fayre from the German supermarket, then considered going in TOFs but Phil felt weird and I was knackered. A longer wait for the bus back, we gazed up at late sunlight on the hills, skeins of geese flying past pink clouds and the rescue helicopter following the ridge – was someone lost on the pike? Back home, Phil had to go back out, leaving me to heft rucksacks to the kitchen. Collapsing on the sofa, I reviewed lists and decided we’d done quite well. Phil’s reaction to Spikevax even queerer, my arm ached as expected and I developed a headache and nausea. We cheered up eating the last of the Halloween drumsticks. I sucked mine into a pixie mushroom shape. “It’s impossible to be grown up eating a lolly.” “If everyone ate lollies, there’d be world peace.” Feeling progressively worse throughout the evening, at bedtime I took ibuprofen, shuffled the pillows to make a hollow for my painful arm and settled down for a mediocre night.

UKHSA identified another 9 cases of Omicron, making a total of 22 and tried to establish links with travel from South Africa. Leaked minutes from a sage meeting revealed fears of rising infections before the booster programme was fully implemented. Andrew Hayward advised going to Plan B rather than having to endure more severe measures later on. Goblin Saj urged festive partygoers to get an LTF before revelling. Deputy CE of NHS Providers Saffron Cordery said some organisations had asked staff ‘not to mix in big groups’. Daily Mirror reported there were 2 parties at Number 10 in the run-up to Christmas 2020 against lockdown rules. Quizzed at PMQs, Boris didn’t deny they took place but said no rules were broken. Keir spluttered: “Both of those things can’t be true, prime minister. He is taking the British public for fools.” Ian Blackford added: “How are people possibly expected to trust the PM when he thinks it’s one rule for him and one rule for everybody else.” Boris retorted he was “talking total nonsense”. LFTs no longer sufficient, holiday-makers heading to Spain now had to show vaccine passes.

Snog, Attend, Avoid

Both ailing on Thursday, I managed a few exercises, skipping ones that hurt my arm and took Echinacea, with no idea if it would do any good. Checking the NHS website for booster side-effects, ours were all normal apart from Phil’s mouth tasting of rusty nails. They suggested he might actually have covid. It soon became apparent he didn’t. I braved the cold to open the window and shake blankets out before changing sheets. I then worked on the laptop until I felt very ropey with a raised temperature. During a longer siesta than usual, I had a ½ hour with my eyes shut and struggled to rise. After dinner, the symptoms felt decidedly flu-like. Unable to keep my head up, I went to bed to watch a crap telly film.

At 53,945, UK daily cases were the highest for 4 months. 73,000 new infections in Germany, the unvaccinated were banned from public places such as non-essential shops. JVCI bod Prof Finn awaited approval from MHRA on jabs for 5-12 year olds. Dr. Albert Bourla of Pfizer said it was a good idea. Well, he would, wouldn’t he? On top of 35m extra doses of Pfizer, 60m Novavax and 7.5m GSK/Sanofi, government ordered another 114 m doses of Pfizer and Moderna in preparation for annual jabs during the next 2 years. Contracts allowed modification to tackle new mutants. 79% effective against serious illness, GSK’s anti-viral drug Sotrovimb was approved for use on the obese and diabetics over 60. Therese Coffee-cup advised against ‘snogging under the mistletoe’ and George Freeman suggested we keep Christmas parties small. Downing Street responded that wasn’t in the guidance. Anger mounted at reports Micron called Boris a clown and a knucklehead. They wouldn’t be snogging under the mistletoe, then! On Newscast, Sadiq Kahn defended the trad fir tree gift from Norway against complaints of scrawniness. He wouldn’t have ‘a word said against it’. Meanwhile, the Tesco Covid Pass Santa ad was deemed okay.

Phil still struggling Friday, my flu-like symptoms had gone apart from a snuffle. The jabbed arm less sore, I did exercise and went to the co-op. Gaps in the chiller sections persisted after the power cut but I found what we needed before Phil caught me up at the till to help with carrying. During lunch, I knocked a glassful of water all over the small coffee table and dug out a Christmas-themed lampshade cover to replace the one that got wet. While Phil cut his hair, I fruitlessly searched the internet for gifts.

After the BMA encouraged people to ‘avoid large groups’ and Prof Openshaw said he wouldn’t feel comfortable going to Christmas parties, labour cancelled theirs but tories didn’t. Oliver Dowdy advised: ‘keep calm and carry on’. So, you had to wear a mask travelling in a bus or taxi to a party, but you could snog a complete stranger under the mistletoe when you got there!

A South African study showed reinfection with Omicron was possible but weren’t sure if that was the case among a heavily-vaccinated population. CovBoost found that the body’s T cell immune response after a booster could offer good protection from hospitalisation and death although it wasn’t yet tested on Omicron. Moderna came out top. Obviously that Spikevax! Homes still without power a week after Storm Arwen, the army were sent to help households in North East Scotland and County Durham and Ofgem launched an urgent review into the response of power suppliers. From the metro news quiz, we learnt young female Afghan footballers rescued by Kim Kardashian, practiced at Elland Road. “I won’t have a word said against her now,” declared Phil. “Yes, she’s not completely useless!”

Dark, cold and wet with wintry showers Saturday, I stayed in, finished the Christmas card and sorted the spice cupboard. I combined duplicates, expunged mystery bits, and told Phil which to buy from the shop. Town deserted for once, he found no fresh stuff and got another duplicate dried condiment instead. The first taste of German gingerbread took me right back to childhood and I moronically crooned: “It’s beginning to taste a bit like Christmas.”

Sunday drier and brighter, I rose early and waited impatiently for Phil to wake. The geese had recently taken to wandering onto the street below to peck at moss and eye the lovely grass of the flat’s garden. Thwarted by the gate, there was lots of squawking. Phil seemed amazed when they went down the steps. “Why not?” I asked, “they’re not daleks.” “They are a bit like daleks.” “Yes, Exterminate! Exterminate!” I put recycling out, swore at neighbours parked right outside the door, and went to town. People stuffing food in their gobs made the farmer’s market resemble a food court, but then the whole town was like that most weekends. Not heaving, the knobbly veg stall-holders said it was at 9.00 a.m. Go figure! The Winter Art Fair also quiet, arty mates agreed the lack of punters was weird. In the Art Mill, I chatted to Photography Friend and her partner. Verging on adulthood, she’d reluctantly let her son to go to a party in Huddersfield. Phil came to join us and we perused an exhibition. He was quite taken by techniques used on the expensive monochrome photos. On the way home, beady-eyed jackdaws coveted a pie being eaten on a riverside bench, inspiring a haigaⁱ. While the corner pub was deserted, the pavements on the main road were oddly crammed. Twilight glowing orange through the living room window, Phil called it ‘lambent light’. A new one on me, it sounded like a clever photographer’s term. I blamed the posh exhibition.

86 new cases of Omicron in the UK, the 246 total were concentrated in London and Scotland where they were linked to a Steps concert. More travel restrictions required pre-departure tests for incoming travellers from Tuesday and Nigeria was added to the red list. They called it ‘travel apartheid’. The Observer depicted Omicron as a Death Star. Molnupiravir aka Lagevria, was approved for vulnerable people with severe symptoms to take at home.

On the Marr, South African scientist Willem Hanekom confirmed the mutant spread very fast, was now dominant, caused re-infection but milder illness, and mainly affected unvaccinated younger people. UK scientific adviser Mark Woolhouse said the travel rules were “shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted’. Willem agreed it was a waste of time and damaging to the South African economy. The Pope went to Lesbos to meet migrants and criticise Europe for indifference to the suffering of desperate people.

*the catchily re-named Department for Levelling Up, Housing and Communities

Reference:

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

Part 82 –People Just Do Nothing

“As ever, this political jester came up with nothing but hot air” (Manuel Cortes)

Hear Nothing

Haiga – Shadow Play

After posting blogs Monday, I succeeded in entering meter readings and book a service on the British Gas website. Unable to get a date before the year’s homecare cover expired, I subsequently rang to negotiate a refund and reduction for next year, with added drainage and leccy cover we’d probably never use. Disturbed by scraping noises under the window in the afternoon and by night-time fretting, I had little rest.

Refusing to resign, Caressa Dick promised to review police standards and culture and investigate specific issues in the Parliamentary and Diplomatic Protection Command. Yvette Coop said it wasn’t enough. In Manchester, Boris claimed there was no need to make misogyny a crime as there were enough laws already, and Patel announced an independent inquiry into the ‘systematic failures’ allowing Couzens to be a cop. Rishi Rich told conference there’d be more help for AI jobs, no chance of tax cuts until we’d recovered from the pandemic and ‘managing the cost of living’ wasn’t a soundbite. You could have fooled me! Helen Waffle then waffled on Newsnight about bootcamps getting people into jobs. Facebook, Insta and WhatsApp went down for 6 hours. Cause unknown, shares plummeted and Mark Zuckerberg lost £4.3 billion. Ex-executive Frances Haugen informed senators he cared more about profits than kids.

Olive Faces

During exercise Tuesday, a burp gave me backache. Phil heedlessly sprung into action and I struggled on with chores and writing. Inspired by Phil’s hilarious creative efforts the day before, I made faces with lunchtime humus and olives. Somehow, they didn’t engender the same level of hysterics.

Going shopping in nasty cold rain, the co-op was also horrid. Parents and kids ambled and gabbed all over the shop. One family edged closer behind me at the till. I was trying to hurry when a chubby girl pushed my goods down the conveyor.

“Excuse me! Do you mind not touching my stuff?” I snapped. Shocked at actually being told off, she cowered. I rushed home where Phil had helpfully hung washing up and cleared kitchen tops for groceries, but I still managed to tip veg on the floor. Finding wet clothes placed on top of almost-dry stuff on the rack upstairs, I became frustrated by the niggles and lay on the bed.

School absences due to infections went up 2/3 at the end of September. Neil Ferguson warned the UK had little headroom compared to other countries before the NHS became ‘heavily stressed’ because of the ‘political decision to ‘live with covid’. He advised Plan B (masks, passes and working from home). Israelis had to have a third vaccine shot to keep the Green Pass and New Zealand abandoned their ‘zero covid’ strategy. Phased re-opening would start in Auckland. As Insulate Britain stopped ambulances getting through and scrapped with motorists, Roger Hallam of XR said they were right to block roads. Arrogant nob Liam Norton came on Jeremy Vine to not hear what anyone was saying and preach. He later apologised outside the High Court. At conference, Boris called them ‘irresponsible crusties’ and Patel announced increased penalties for disrupting a motorway and the criminalisation of interfering with key infrastructure such as roads, airports and railways. HS2 unlikely to come north, it was estimated tunnelling protestors at Euston last year cost £3.5 million. Simon Gass met the Taliban in Doha to discuss humanitarian aid, threats of terrorism, safe passage, treatment of minorities and women’s’ rights. Resulting in no action, it seemed they heard little.

Say Nothing

Ethereal Clouds

Hoovering the living room Wednesday, I felt overwhelmed by housework, got upset and slumped on the sofa. Phil sympathised and asked how he could help. I ranted that I never felt on top of chores but that wasn’t the real issue. Very sunny and warm, he thought lunch at the tearooms would cheer me up. Among a plethora of wildlife on the patio, a dying wasp stung Phil’s hand. His jumping and shouting alerted the waitress who asked if he needed anything. I suggested hot water (but as I later wondered was it cold, he tried both). A guy I knew from art class and his partner sympathised from the next table. While eating, we joked about Boris’ speech probably not mentioning Brexit, the latest antics of the French, and speculated on Barnier becoming the next president. As a trio proudly brandishing the daily express took the place of our acquaintances, I muttered: “What were you saying about gammons?” I adopted a nonchalant air, gazing up at wispy clouds and falling leaves, to realise the air was swarming with midges. We escaped from the riverside and visited charity shops. Buying nothing, we had a laugh at activity building kits including a medieval clock and jousting knights.

Vaccines were sent to scientists in antarctica but Sarah Gilbert warned with only 1.9% of people in poorer countries immunised, nobody was yet safe. After successful trials, The WHO approved the Mosquirix malaria vaccine. Quizzed on the pathetic 127 foreign HGV driver applications, The Bumbler ridiculously bigged it up to 137. He just couldn’t stop lying! He later declared: “the supply chain problem is caused very largely by the strength of the economic recovery.” Did he mean buying plastic crap from China, pushing demand and costs up? Telling Laura Kuensberg supermarkets would manage due to ‘fantastic expertise and logistics’, she said it sounded as though he didn’t hear people’s concerns, took no responsibility, didn’t see it as his problem and would do nothing to help. Ignoring immediate short-term issues of shortages and spiralling inflation, he prattled about building a different future. Were the 150 new Greggs shops planned for 2022 part of the plan?

In a bombastic keynote speech full of hutzpah and terrible jokes, Boris took credit for the triumphs of Emma Raducanu, UK Paralympians and the Oxford Vaccine, saying the 97% publicly-funded feat was possible because of capitalism. He said he’d unleash the ‘unique spirit’ of the country by having the guts to reshape society and address previously-dodged issues. Defending restricting the number of foreign workers and the National Insurance hike, he insisted a new approach would lead to a ‘high wage, high skilled, high productivity and…low tax economy’ which was what people voted for in 2016. No they didn’t! He intimated worker and food shortages, and price and wage hikes were a deliberate strategy. Not happy at being branded the bogeymen, capitalists called him ‘economically illiterate’ and Richard Walker said it wasn’t helpful. Criticism from unions included Manuel Cortes of TSSA saying it was ‘nothing but hot air’ in a time of inflation, cuts, shortages and a climate crisis. The only policy he announced was a ‘levelling up’ premium of £3,000 for maths and science teachers which former education adviser Sam Freedman said was a U-turn on a previously scrapped plan. Carrie Antoinette watched adoringly, resembling a handmaid minus the bonnet. On the eve of the Universal Credit cut, Peter Bottom complained an MP’s £82,000 salary was a pittance and Therese Coffee-Cup belted out ‘The Time Of My Life’ at a tory karaoke. Wes Streeting spluttered: “they just don’t know what life is like for a hell of a lot of people…they make policies that are actively hurting people who are going out, working hard, trying to make the best for their family and are really struggling.”

Do Nothing

Life on a Small Island

Waking late Thursday, Phil helped with chores before I went to the co-op. Much calmer on a bright day, a woman in front of me at the till asked hipster cashier if he used to work at the club. He said yes but gave it up as he was too old for the job. “You can’t be older than the people who go there!” I joked. He took this as a cue to launch into his life story as a dad of three kids. Phil had again cleared the kitchen for my return but I still faffed. In the afternoon, I posted ‘Flash Forage in Arnside on Cool Places 2ⁱ.

Receiving an honorary degree from Manchester University, Marcus Rashford again called for Universal Credit to not be cut. In a Refuge campaign launch outside Scotland Yard, Jo Brand and Helena Kennedy QC joined 16 silhouettes with the slogan #EnoughisEnough, representing women killed by serving cops. Less stocks over summer, infrastructure outages and reduced global supply led to gas prices rocketing 37%. Russia released more into the market but was accused of blackmail over the Nord Stream 2 pipeline. French minister Clement Beaune threatened to cut the UK off if fishing wasn’t allowed round jersey. The EU advised he cool it. The National Grid assured us lights would stay on over winter thanks to alternative supplies including European gas pipes and shipped natural gas brought. But Ofgem conceded it was a worrying time and the price hike would be passed onto consumers.

On QT, Rosie Jones said she heard nothing in Boris’ speech and on Newscast, money expert Martin Lewis said ‘do nothing’ about rising bills. I felt vindicated, having always thought it ludicrous that the onus was on consumers to shop around for the cheapest deals when all our power came from a few sources. And with only 8 days reserve supply in the UK, it highlighted the idiocy of the ‘just in time’ procurement model. They didn’t need ex-Tesco boss Dave Lewis, appointed as adviser, to resolve acute supply chain issues and suggest long-term changes, they could just ask me! Based in the Cabinet Office, he would also co-chair a new supply chain advisory board and industry taskforce.

Glad of no shopping to do on a sunny Friday, I waited in the street for Phil to come on an afternoon walk, spotting a mystery man working on a laptop in the community garden. We got pop and pies in town and went to the park to eat. I then waited for Phil to get off his phone. Earning 4 euros for his first ‘click job’ analysing tweets, he said it paid more than YouGov but less than everything else. We walked through the park, bemoaned the mowing of wildflower patches, headed up to farmland, and along the top of the old quarry where impromptu streams and nettles made the going tricky. Striding ahead, Phil came back to help me, getting stung again. Hot and sweaty, we went down to the shady wood, displaying a few signs of autumn but disappointingly no mushrooms. On reaching the druid stones, we considered a rest but reasoning we were almost home, continued down the scary rutted last bit of path. I collapsed on the sofa, feeling slightly out of breath which was meant to be good I believe.

A day after E-gates at Heathrow, Gatwick and Edinburgh airports failed again, more countries were removed from the red list (leaving just 7), advice against non-essential travel was lifted and the vaccinated didn’t need to quarantine. Green and amber lists would be abolished Monday. Change Please converted 2 London buses to offer a one-stop shop for the homeless. Former Northern Ireland Secretary James Brokenshire died.

Saturday much greyer, I rose on wobbly legs, worked on the laptop, put recycling out and hacked at excessive branches round our Christmas trees. The medium-sized one now yellower, it was unlikely to recover for the festive season. Phil sold another Leeds-based print from the café expo (the old bus station was now a hipster bar).

Sunday, I discovered ‘likes’ on Brexit Islandⁱⁱ were still climbing, and a cartoon I’d posted a few days ago had been shared. Followers now including lefties and anarchists as well as right-wing nutters, I shared a link to a review of Barnier’s book. My Secret Brexit Diary confirmed the EU’s strategy was to sit tight and do nothing until the UK government caved inⁱⁱⁱ.

As sunshine returned, we went to pootle in the favoured clough. Oak sprigs scattered the shrunken small islands. Tiny fish swam beneath layers of decaying leaves. Rotting mushrooms sprouted from deadwood. As we rested on a bench, a passing hiking group speculated on creation of the landscape. I confirmed it was once a millrace. Walking up to the stone bridge, a thoughtful man with child and dog stepped aside for us. We then climbed up to the lane, savouring sun and wind in our faces and kicking crunchy leaves in the gutter. Cutting the corner off via small steps, the same man ascended giving us chance to return the favour. The old chapel no longer advertised a ‘free school’ but a ‘to let’ sign for the hostel left us wondering how that worked? Town heaving as ever, we ducked through an arch. Phil pointed at an old schoolfriend’s shop: “I saw you coming.” ‘That’s my mates’ shop!’ The almost-closed market hosted nothing but ‘I saw you coming’ stalls. The man in the Thai van yelled to a fellow trader: “have you got any burritos left?” in a broad Yorkshire accent. There was nothing like authenticity! We went in the convenience store before going home. Phil went to the kitchen, sorted shopping and put the kettle on. I followed to find spills round the draining board, making me fraught. Calming over coffee and cake, I used a dark woodland picture to compose a haiga^iv. Fretting returning, I found it hard to sleep that night.

On the Marr, Stephen Fitzpatrick told us Ovo, one of the Big Six, made a nauseating £5bn profits last year. He said they’d hedged well to ensure winter lights wouldn’t go out but government must act to protect those on low incomes and ensure a long-term strategy for the next generation. Although the Liberty Steel Rotherham plant would re-open, the boss of British Steel was baffled by a lack of aid from Kwasi Kwarteng, when governments had stepped in elsewhere. Other gas-guzzling manufacturers warned of stoppages. Kwarteng told Marr he’d spoken to Rishi’s colleagues about help to be promptly contradicted by a Treasury official insisting no such discussions took place and intimating he ‘misspoke’. As Boris and family went to stay in Zak Goldsmith’s villa in Marbella, Labour called the situation ‘farcical in-fighting’. Bridget Phillipson said: “in the teeth of a crisis of its own making, the government has put its out-of-office on. The PM has gone on holiday, no one knows where the chancellor is and…the business secretary has entered the realms of fantasy.” Jenny Harries (CE of UK Health Security Agency) warned up to 60,000 flu fatalities were possible over winter, with death twice as likely if you got flu and covid at the same time. Criticising civil servants for still working from home, IDS asked where was their blitz spirit? It was pointed that WW2 bombings happened at night when not many people were in offices, the internet didn’t exist in the 1940’s and government sold off half of Whitehall leaving only 3 desks per 10 staff in some departments. Anti-vaxxers visited Jeremy Vine’s house to give his wife a writ while animal cruelty fans went to Chris Packham’s pad and set his gate alight. He vowed to not give up fighting.

References:

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

ii. Brexit Island on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BrexitIsland/

iii. Barnier’s book: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2021/sep/25/my-secret-brexit-diary-by-michel-barnier-review-a-british-roasting

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

Part 81 – Hell on Earth

“This is the playbook we see from them every crisis. Deny there’s a problem, fail to plan, blame the public, blame someone else, then call in the army. It’s utter incompetence” (Luke Pollard)

Fractures

Both fatigued Monday I struggled with the mundane chores. Putting recycling out, I was stressed out at almost being trapped against the wall by an inconsiderate UPS deliverer. Posting the journal took hours and gave me a headache, compounded by sudden blinding sunlight streaming through the windows on a blustery day. I came up with a new technique to make editing subsequent chapters quicker. Still sunny early evening, I considered going out to the garden but depressed at no sun on that side, I gave up the idea: a shame since the rest of the week was wet and grey.

66% of adults now double-jabbed, the UK was catching up with Canada, Chile, Singapore, Italy, Belgium, Ireland, Spain and Portugal (at 84%). In a hellish conference week for Keir, Andy McDonald resigned very publicly from the shadow cabinet. Fuelled by the petrol crisis, tube travel increased 7%, bus 2%, and rail 6%, where flexi-tickets further incentivised passengers. Amidst a plethora of idiotic acts, motorists stockpiled petrol, filled plastic bottles and bags to sell on Facebook, vandalised cars to syphon tanks and fought on forecourts. A cyclist taunted queueing drivers and a cavalcade at a shut garage in Wimbledon created gridlock. Care workers called for priority access to available stocks. A mini tornado ripped through Thorngumbald and Humberston in East Yorkshire while an earthquake near Heraklion killed 1 and injured 20 in Crete.

Discussing fuel issues on Newsnight, Richard Walker said the temp visas effective from mid-October would make little difference. As he mentioned voting for Brexit, I went off him. Phil said “some nice people voted leave.” “Hmm!” Michel Barnier promoted his long-awaited Secret Brexit Diaries in an interview. Repeatedly wishing the UK well, he said we must face the consequences of leaving but the EU were ready to find solutions within the NI protocol framework (not outside of it); the conditions of which should be ‘no surprise’ as “Boris knew what he signed.” He obviously didn’t! Ahead of running for President, he called for a French referendum on immigration to ‘regain legal sovereignty’ on key issues, but maintained free movement within the EU wasn’t at stake.

The headache returned Tuesday morning. I must have looked pained as Phil asked what was up. “It’s hard today” “I’ll have to shoot you.” “That’s helpful!” “What can I do?” “Be nice for a start!” Rain arrived just in time for a trip to the co-op with the usual gaps on shelves and nothing in the reduced section.

Boris met Covid-19 Bereaved Families for Justice, promising they’d have a role in the public inquiry and to appoint a chair by Christmas. He also endorsed the memorial wall opposite parliament as a permanent national emblem. The petrol situation improved slightly but pumps still under 50% full, the MOD approved ‘Operation Escalin’, putting the army on standby to step in for HGV drivers. Phil pointed out they were all TAs so probably worked as drivers anyway. BOE boss Andy Bailey derided comments about a lack of wind affecting the supply chain: “when is the plague of locusts due?” Luke Pollard said it illustrated the incompetence of the government. South Eastern was stripped of its franchise and effectively nationalised, even though it paid back £25m of undeclared taxpayers money. Aldi announced 100 new stores creating 2,000 jobs. 53 Insulate Britain protesters were released from custody despite the injunction.

Late telly-watching led to a bad night. Unable to sleep, I looked out the window to see blazing lights. Sifting through a jumble of stuff whizzing round my mind, concluded I was fed up with the mundanity of life but was devoid of ideas on how to change it. I eventually dropped off to the meditation soundtrack.

Fire And Brimstone

Feeling unrested Wednesday, I hoped Phil’s weekend hoovering would make cleaning the living room quick. Sadly not. On a showery afternoon, I went to town via the street below to avoid a crane at the mill development straddling our street. German Friend stood on her doorstep and told me she’d taken tests to ensure her cold symptoms weren’t covid. Prevaricating about going to work, I advised she look after herself. After errands, I loitered at the wavy steps to be chased by ducks, mistaking the rustle of plastic bags for bread. I escaped through the carpark and along to the new bridge. New Gran sheltered under an awning of the corner pub, with her daughter and grandson. The only drinkers outside, I called: “hello diehards!” We chatted over the wall about the baby’s fulsome barnet, him being taken to gigs and mum’s graduation in Liverpool. I’d arranged to meet Phil at the café and noticed he’d appeared on the other side of the busy main road, tricky to navigate. Going in the café, I wore a mask; nobody else did. Surprisingly busy, I wondered why they’d asked him to go at that time to take some prints away. We retreated to the back until the owner returned from an errand. He paid Phil for 2 sold pictures (at least 1 was Leeds-themed, belying the critics), dithered over which ones he wanted removed then decided they could all stay until the end of October. “That was an easy work!” Phil giggled. “Yes. I expected to be there at least long enough to take my anorak off. I even put a clean top on!” “Me too!”

Institute for Public Policy North found 3 times more deaths in the North East compared to the least-affected South East, since lockdown ended 19^th July. Blaming poor working and living conditions, the rift between north and south was stark. Fended off hecklers by saying he usually got heckled by tories at PMQs on a Wednesday, Keir gave his first live keynote speech since becoming leader to mock The Bumbler: “we have a fuel crisis, a pay crisis, a goods crisis and a cost of living crisis all at the same time. Level up? You cannot even fuel up.” He thought Boris wasn’t a bad man but a trivial showman, “a trickster who has performed his one trick.” i.e., Brexit. He could have added Boris wanted to be PM for the sake of it: once he got the job, he had no idea it would involve actual work. Not staying to sing the traditional Red Flag at the end of conference, we recalled it was banned under Blair. Would the two side of the party ever be reconciled? Might the die-hard lefties split and effectively leave a social democratic party of Nouveau Guardianistas? Did someone say Gang of Four?

After bathing Thursday, I tried to remove a nail shard from my big toe, in the exact spot where a chiropodist had cut it too short 3 years ago, I never returned after that. I worked on the journal and went to the market in the cold rain. Jolly veg man had price labels up, so over-charging was less likely. In the afternoon, I started editing holiday notes for Cool Places 2, became knackered and lay down. Characteristically unable to relax, at least I got warm in bed. Phil re-surfaced sooner than normal, not snoozing for once. “You’re lucky you can sleep in the afternoon.” “Not when I’m collapsing with fatigue.” “Makes no difference to me!”

On the last day of the furlough scheme, almost 1 million workers were still on it. Heartless tory git Simon Clarke said job losses were ‘a part of the process’ of support ending. Amidst mounting criticism of the Universal Credit cut, government announced a £500 million Household Support Fund, enabling councils to give grants to needy families. Therese Coffee-cup said it would help meet “essential costs as we push through the last stages of our recovery from the pandemic.” Rishi Rich surfaced in Selby to say it’d ‘make a real difference’. But Helen Barnard of the Joseph Rowntree Foundation countered it didn’t come close “to meeting the scale of the challenge facing millions of families on low incomes as a cost of living crisis looms and our social security system is cut down to inadequate levels…(admitting) families will need to apply for emergency grants to meet the cost of basics like food and heating through winter, it’s clear the chancellor knows the damage (it) will cause.” At Wayne Couzen’s 2-day sentencing hearing, gory details of Sarah Everard’s murder were summarised in court as: ‘deception, kidnap, rape, strangulation and fire’. He was given a whole life sentence and would die in jail (and hopefully burn in hell if there was one). Kate Wilson won her human rights case against the Met for being duped into a relationship with undercover cop Mark Kennedy aka Stone.

After 3 more unheard-of energy companies went bust, a reserve fleet of tankers headed to Yorkshire where petrol shortages were worst. No surprise as 10% of the UK’s pollutants emanated from the county. Rabid Raab suggested using ex-cons. Now, what could go wrong there? On Question Time, Useless George denied ‘turbulence in the supply chain’ was anything to do with Brexit, saying fuel demand up 50% last weekend, was now improving. Karan Bilimaria of Cobra beer ‘felt sick’ by the shortages and said the government wouldn’t listen to the immigration advisory board or CBI months ago. Ella Whelan, Spiked magazine, said there were long-standing problems of HGV drivers sleeping in cabs and peeing on the roadside. Flight attendant-turned-reality star Amy Hart referred to short-term visas as unfair: “You can’t treat people that way.” Useless said it would ensure driver capacity for the busy Christmas period, as too would 5,500 poultry workers. Referring to the Couzens trial, Wes Streeting said changing the police culture of ‘letting things go’ needed action not words. Amid renewed calls for Caressa Dick to resign, ex inspector Zoe Billingham was asked on BBC Breakfast next day why misogynists were allowed in the force to form WhatsApp groups and jokingly call colleagues ‘rapists’? She maintained it was a small minority and she’d been working on it for 9 years. It shouldn’t happen at all, you useless Coffee-cupper! Met advice to women approached by lone officers such as flagging down a bus, running to a house or dialling 999 were lambasted as ‘derisory’. North Yorks PCC Philip Allot advised women to be more streetwise about powers of arrest. Flabbergasted by the insulting comments, we wondered how anybody was meant to know what the Coronavirus Laws were when Sarah Everard was kidnapped during the first lockdown. Not even the police did, and arguably still didn’t! Subsequent retraction of the comments didn’t stop Keir wanting Allot to resign or York MP Rachel Maskell calling his position ‘untenable’.

Tierra Del Fuego

Friday still showery, at least we didn’t get a deluge like in other places. Heavy rain caused flooding in Greater Manchester, commuter issues in London and delayed installation of a temporary TV mast in North Yorkshire. More gales over the weekend prompted yellow warnings. I did some writing and went to the co-op. Phil caught me up in the last aisle to guffaw at ‘dots’ aka micro-doughnuts and empty freezer shelves.

We investigated recent dinosaur discoveries. A week after a 165 million year old new Ankylosaur was found in Morocco, evidence of two more dinosaurs emerged on the Isle of Wight. The 125 million year old carnivorous Riparovenator minerae and Ceratosuchops inferodios aka ‘Hell Heron’ attacked visitors, according to The Sun. We wondered why on earth anyone would go there back then as an artist’s impression depicted the holiday hotspot as hell on earth.

New covid cases up 18% week on week, the sharpest rise in 11-15 year olds returning to school, rates were still lower than the second wave in January. 12 hours before the Scottish Covid Pass went live, the app was launched. People complained of system errors but Sturgeon stuck to her guns and cited the 2-week grace period during which there’d be no prosecutions. ONS figures showed economic growth 5.5% April to June, but only 0.1% in July. Expectations for August were revised down to 2.1% because of supply chain problems. H&M profits tripled, Boohoo sales increased 20%, the energy price cap went up and Virgin Money shut 31 branches as more people banked online during the pandemic. Australia would lift the 18-month travel ban sometime in November when 80% of Aussies over 16 were fully vaccinated. Qantas to start flights from Sydney to London and Los Angeles 14^th November, no date was given for when we’d be welcome.

No improvement in the weekend weather, I stayed in Saturday and used a surplus of oats to make goodies. Taking miles longer to bake than the recipes indicated, the cookies had soggy bottoms and the flapjacks were too sticky to remove from the tin. “This is why I’m not a patisserie chef!“ Cold overnight, I slept badly and spent a fatigued Sunday draft-posting the journal, writing a haigaⁱ and posting ‘Views over Sands’ on Cool Places 2ⁱⁱ. Phil registered for more gig work on ‘click jobs’ which sounded hilariously like ‘clickbait’. Declaring it time, I fetched bedspreads out of storage for a toastier sleep.

In the South East, another injunction was granted to stop Insulate Britain protestors blocking major roads. Petrol shortages now worse than Yorkshire, the army started deliveries from Hemel Hempstead while Watford Town went north to be beaten by Leeds United 1-0 (their first win of the season). At the start of the tory party conference, Boris went to a Manchester gym sporting ridiculous boxing gloves emblazoned with ‘build back better’. They’d had almost a decade to do that! Setting the bar high (not), he told Andrew Marr Christmas would be better than last year. The Bunman said The Glove-puppet was good for ‘levelling up’ as he got things done like with education. Eh? He made a right mess of that! IDS wanted the cut to Universal Credit delayed but Gordy Brown wanted it scrapped, citing a report by York university on how it affected families. The Joseph Rowntree Foundation found Bradford West hardest hit with 81% on the benefit. Encouraged by the conviction of Wayne Couzens, a woman came forward to accuse a fellow Met officer of rape. David Carrick strenuously denied all charges. New fissures in the Cumbre Vieja volcano sent fresh rivers of fire across La Palma. Maybe they should rename it Tierra Del Fuego.

References:

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

ii. My Cool Place 2 blog: https://wordpress.com/posts/hepdenerose2.wordpress.com

Part 79 – Something in the Air

“…inflation has reached its highest level in a decade. For ordinary workers and families, prices are going up at the very moment when they can least afford it. (they) need more than just a winter plan for covid; they need a winter action plan to fight a Tory poverty pandemic that is only going to get worse” (Ian Blackford)

Gas and Air

The next two weeks, summer continued. Monday 6^th, I cheered up after a bad night with a laugh at Max Gammon and Ickle Owen Jones arguing on Jeremy Vine. Phil said they made a great couple! After the usual chores and blog-posting, I tried printing info for our upcoming trip, forgetting the PC still wasn’t connected to the new router. Becoming bad-tempered at the prolonged task, I went outside for fresh air and found a ginormous slug lurking beneath dead crocosmia in the garden. Young Student told me because they ate rat poison, slugs were fatal if eaten. “That sounds like an urban myth.” “No. A boy in Australia…” “Everything kills you in Australia!” “True,” she conceded. Disturbed by boisterousness on the street below at bedtime, I shouted “shut up!” through the bathroom window. They ignored me.

Most measures lifted for the start of term, schoolkids were meant to take LFT tests, a PCR if they had contact with infected persons, and isolate if positive. A decision on jabbing 12-15 year olds expected later that week, sage bod Peter Openshaw said they needed to ‘become immune’. In parliament, Goblin Saj announced an extra £5.4bn for the NHS. Boris pledged continuing efforts to rescue people from Afghanistan where the Taliban took Panjshir Valley, used tear gas on demonstrators and shot dead a pregnant cop. Women in Mazar-e-Sharif held a demo demanding a place in government. The Taliban effectively held four planes hostage at the city’s airport. Blair warned the Islamist threat was coming for us, requiring both hard and soft power to fight it. 1,000 migrants arrived in dinghies making the total 12,000 so far for 2021. Big Ben’s unveiling revealed numerals in original blue and George flags. The Welsh and Scots weren’t happy.

Interrupted by canal works Tuesday, I rose grumpily. Phil went out for last-minute gifts and groceries to find he was the only mask-wearer in the co-op. I painted the metal frames of the garden benches. The hammarite went on smoothly but worried I wouldn’t have enough turps, Phil bought some from the hardware shop before going back to the co-op to swap the decaff coffee he’d got by mistake. Decorating neighbour griped about the mill conversion blocking the road and Elderly Neighbour griped about everything. At least she had her partner, unlike my mum. I promised him a creole Christmas cake recipe. Surprised to already see new neighbours on the other side of the street, we joked with them that they didn’t hang around. Although we skipped siestas, we managed to stay awake to toast my birthday at midnight.

A Newcastle University study found 17% more deaths and 41 days more lockdown in the north of England during the first year of the pandemic. Denying plans for a firebreak in October half-term, ministers said there were ‘last resort’ contingencies. Nads Zahawi told BBC Breakfast we were now in a better place due to vaccines . Boosters for winter and later years were under consideration: “(to transition) the virus from pandemic to endemic status and deal with it year in, year out.” Announcing the anticipated hike in National Insurance, Boris admitted he broke a manifesto pledge but as “a global pandemic was in no-one’s manifesto,” was necessary. The extra 1.25% would be paid by all working adults, including OAPs, and raise £36 billion over 3 years to fund the NHS backlog and adult social care. There’d be a £86,000 cap on lifetime care costs and fully-funded care for those with assets of less than £20,000. Critics saw it as benefiting rich southerners and a tax rise on the young. Keir said: “The tories can never again claim to be the party of low tax.” Ex-health minister Cock claimed social care funding reform was “put in the ‘too difficult’ box.” by two successive governments. What a cock! A 1.25% rise in dividend tax wouldn’t apply until 2022-23, according to Therese Coffee-cup, so pensioners wouldn’t unfairly benefit from an ‘irregular statistical spike in earnings’. The Taliban interim government consisted of Mo Hassan Akhund as leader, Abdul Ghani Baradar as deputy and most-wanted Sirajuddin Haqqani as interior minister. Foot-soldiers arrested journalists and mindlessly fired into the air to disperse protestors outside the Pakistani embassy.

Fizzing and Floating

Aiming to sleep in after the late drink, I was again woken by canal works Wednesday. I rallied to enjoy a lovely birthday beginning with my favourite breakfast, reading cards and messages and opening gifts from Phil. We assembled goodies and caught a bus ‘up tops’. Detoured due to a road closure in the hilltop village, we wondered if it was roadworks or filming for the TV drama? Alighting after the next hamlet, we walked up to the farm shop for pop and proceeded down through the next village. The ‘no food’ sign on the pub-cum-campsite seemed daft with a captive audience. Maybe there were staffing issues. On the bridleway, floating willowherb fluff and the aniseed scent of angelica assailed our senses. Down in the clough, kids and dogs commandeered a favoured picnic spot. We ate our lunch on a nearby flat rock before proceeding, waylaid by a variety of fungi crazily sprouting from rotting trees, earth and wooden steps. Finding weird fuzzy mould on our fresh shop-bought mushrooms later in the week, Phil guessed they were infested with all the spores floating about. The main road blisteringly hot, I struggled on the last stretch. Unsurprisingly, it was officially the hottest September day ever. (For a fuller description, see Cool Placesⁱ).

Back home, I declared: “I’m dying for the loo.” “so am I.” “I’m too hot.” “so am I.” “I’m putting a dress on.” “So am I.” “Well, you could wear your sarong. But we’re going to the Thai place so they might think you’re taking the piss!” After changing, I lay on the bed in a stupor then got cleaned up for coffee and eclairs. I dithered over make-up when Walking Friend came knocking. She gave me a bottle of prosecco (that made 3 bottles of fizz), and awaited us outside.

Town pubs infested, I was grateful of spacious seating outside the restaurant for early bird dinners, accompanied by more fizzy prosecco at Walking Friend’s insistence. Saturn floated in the gloaming as did clouds of midges, having a feast in the canal-side air. Walking Friend insisted on paying the whole bill and wanting to buy her a drink in return, Phil led us to the corner pub. Still busy, I felt press-ganged but at least there was a free corner table. We talked about her new obsession with Wish. Feeling flush for the first time ever, she loved parcels dropping through the letterbox: “it’s like Christmas every day.” She then gave me a pouch of baccy. Overcome with her generosity, I pleaded: “if you don’t stop giving me things, I’ll cry! As she took her leave, we spotted Australian Hippy. Resembling a Zoolander character floating on rollerblades, he was making big money selling opals. Assailed by itchy bites (in spite of repellent) and sweaty hot flushes, I woke several times during the night. But it had been a wonderful day. In more affluent times I’d insist on going away for birthdays. Why bother when you can have it all in Yorkshire? (insect bites included!)

In a packed commons, labour MPs mostly wore masks, tories didn’t. The government defended the National Insurance increase before voting. Ironically, labour voted against but it passed anyway. After mistaking Rashford for a rugby player, it was intimated The Salesman was on the way out (correctly, as it turned out). Nasty Patel met Gerald Darmanin and suggested the bribe could be withheld if the French didn’t intercept more migrant crossings. He attacked reports of her sanctioning push-backs of boats to the continent, said they wouldn’t accept any measures that broke maritime law, and would not be subjected to blackmail. The manoeuvres were widely condemned as dangerous and against UN treaties.

Overnight rain led to a grey and humid Thursday, the heavy air presaging storms. I gave up on fractious sleep as engineering works recommenced, forced myself to clean the bedroom, became overheated and bathed. Feeling overwhelmed with only 4 days until our trip, I concentrated on doing one thing at a time. I texted Walking Friend to say thanks for the birthday night out, posted a photo from the walk to say thanks for birthday wishes and worked on the computer. In the afternoon, I went to the co-op, finding the cash machine not working and gaps on shelves. On the way back, I waited while Young Mum and Toddler descended the steps as he cutely counted them. I just got in when a rumble of thunder signalled a heavy shower. Having to clear a full kitchen sink before sorting the shopping, I had a slight fit and exhaustedly collapsed on the sofa. Phil asked what was up. I kept schtum but he swung into action, washed up and sorted laundry. Unable to focus my eyes, I lay down but failed to rest. Thankfully, I had a better night.

MHRA approved Pfizer and Astra-Zeneca for boosters, still awaiting JCVI advice. The government launched a 6-week consultation on mandatory vaccines for more frontline health and social care workers. As coffee-cuppers returned to offices, Costa Packet announced a 5% pay rise and 2,000 new jobs. Crush-hour prompted criticism of bare-faced commuters on tubes. The ‘condition of travel’ not legally enforceable, London mayor Khan wanted a government review on mask-wearing to be brought forward from October. Anti-mask posters housed razor blades to prevent them being taken down. Brexit import controls delayed again, until July 2022 because of covid and supply chain issues, and tighter rules on Northern Ireland trade delayed indefinitely to allow for further talks, Geoffrey Donaldson threatened the DUP would seek to block additional border checks under the protocol and leave Stormont if they failed. Sinn Fein leader Mary Lou McDonald called his comments ‘irresponsible’.

Another night of rain could have explained the lack of canal noise Friday morning. I ironed a few items and selected clothes to pack, spending ages failing to find anything to go with the new £1 skirt. After wasting half an hour, I picked out a dress instead. In the evening, we drank more prosecco and posh chocolates while watching films.

Holyrood made vaccines mandatory to access nightclubs and other venues from 1^st October. The next day, ONS stats showed 1:45 Scots were infected. The highest rate in the UK by some margin, Sturgeon said the Covid Pass wasn’t a magic bullet but may mean not having to use other measures. A lack of guidance prompted some wag to say clubs had longer cocktail lists. The Food and Drink Federation predicted shortages were here to stay but Downing Street insisted the supply chain was ‘highly resilient’. Look North reported a shortage of abattoir butchers. Saying it was cruel, surely it was good for the pigs. Gordon Ramsay restaurants lost £5.1m profit during lockdowns and KPMG set a target of 29% of their workforce to come from working class backgrounds.

We spent a changeable weekend mainly indoors. Saturday, Phil trimmed my fringe which seemed to have grown unevenly into my eyes. I then packed and rang the holiday cottage owner for a nice chat about the internet and War of the Roses, wrote a haigaⁱⁱ, put some recycling out and went to the co-op for cash and a small top-up, impeded by gangs of teenagers hanging about. At bedtime, I unusually fell asleep with the light still on. Waking at 8 the next morning I, almost got up, realised it was Sunday and slept another hour. I was annoyed by bowls floating in a scummy kitchen sink but as Phil struggled with tummy ache, I let it lie. He finished his packing while I draft-posted blogs.

Andrew Marr harked back to Jon Ashworth’s previous statement that opening up on 19^th July was ‘reckless’. Jon replied it depended on your definition of ‘reckless’: the virus was still circulating and 8,000 were in hospital. He said abuse of powers under Coronavirus Laws needed looking into but Goblin Saj maintained it was important to keep the powers to ensure the infected self-isolated. Days after they became law in Scotland and other ministers said they were a good idea, he confirmed the planned introduction of Covid Passes at the end of the month wouldn’t happen in England.

Breath-Taking

Sleeping through the gentle wave sounds of the DAB alarm for several minutes Monday morning, I panicked slightly, worked through a list of jobs and packed lunch while Phil cooked a filling breakfast. Taking recycling out, a cavalcade of neighbours attempted to drive down the street, blocked by the mill development. Fortunately, this didn’t impede our walk to the station. The journey was trouble-free but slow. Too crowded to contemplate having a coffee, we spent an hour’s wait at Preston eating butties, and going out for a smoke. During a tedious 15 minutes stood at Lancaster, a hoard of school kids packed the connecting train. Thinning out for the last stretch, we relaxed to enjoy the coastal scenery. I recalled a ramp from the platform at Grange down to the prom but mis-remembered the exit to the town centre and overshot the tunnel. As we turned down a small cul-de-sac, I recognised the cottage from the bin outside. Inside, a balcony and picture window provided breath-taking views of Morecambe Bay. After unpacking and cuppas on the balcony, we went in search of supplies. The local co-op terrible, we settled on pizza and visited Spar for a few items. After one glass of wine, I felt sleepy and switched to coffee. Big mistake. As if coping with a cluttered mind and a strange bed wasn’t bad enough, the late caffeine hit did nothing to aid sleep.

Chief Medical Officers recommended 12-15 year olds were administered a dose of Pfizer in schools with parental consent, to prevent disruption. But 800,000 doses of Astra-Zeneca would expire by the end of September due to reduced take-up. French M&S stores were shutting amid Brexit butty hold-ups while Pret profits went up 15% in a week. Half of office workers wished to stay home Mondays and Fridays, prompting the acronym TW*ATS. Goldman Sachs urged them back fulltime with no social distancing and Morrisons announced no sick pay for unvaccinated staff who had to self-isolate.

Eventually coming round Tuesday, we bought excellent pies from Higginson’s (Phil’s favourite shop) and caught a bus to Cartmel, baulking at the £4 each to go two miles! In the village, we marvelled at wild-growing hops, laughed at craft brewing, chi-chi antiques and the so-called ‘village shop’ that didn’t even sell pop, visited the historic priory and used racecourse facilities. A Guardian family learning to segue provided entertainment as we munched on a mighty cheese pasty at a picnic bench. We started walking back to Grange on the delightfully-named Haggs Lane. Hedgerow blackberries exceedingly sweet, we braved fast cars on the dangerously narrow, twisting lane to pick a pound. On Grange Fell Road, Phil pointed to a graveyard. “That’s where dead people go.” I indicated a golf course opposite: “That’s’ where nearly dead people go!” The walk harder than anticipated, I was glad we’d got the bus up even with the gouging fares. We got cola from Spar and found the tunnel we’d missed Monday evening. The sun emerged from grey clouds as we perched on a prom wall. Despite signs of overheating, Phil wanted to continue to the lido, then suggested dumping bags. We back-tracked to the cottage where we also ditched layers. From excessively detailed info of the renovation, we gleaned the lido wouldn’t be a wreck for long. Nearby plaques depicted landmarks across the bay: the metropolis of Morecambe (the proposed site of Eden Project North), Heysham nuclear power plant and. Blackpool Tower. 31 miles away, Phil claimed you could see it from space.

After Calum Semple warned of ‘a rough winter’ Boris’ unveiled his ‘winter covid plan’. ‘Sticking with the strategy’ meant relying on vaccines: boosters for the over 50’s and carers of Pfizer or ½ dose of Moderna, started Thursday. If other measures were needed, there was a Plan A (jab campaigns, meeting outside, wearing masks, washing hands, using the TIT app and helping other countries get vaccines) and a Plan B (Covid Passes, mandatory masks, working from home). Anti-lockdown MP Steve Baker whinged: “The public health powers are still there, allowing (Javid) to lock us down at the stroke of his pen without prior votes.”

In spite of better sleep, I felt rough on a super-bright Wednesday, rallied over a cuppa to go on a short train ride. No staff in the station office, the ticket machine inexplicably wouldn’t accept our railcard. It was still cheaper than the bus, though! In Arnside, we walked up the beautiful estuary towards a disused station marked on a weird map we found in the cottage. Coming to a hamlet, we decided it must be Sandside and took photos of each other to prove we’d been. On the way back, we couldn’t resist a ‘flash forage’ for more blackberries in spite of bursting for a wee. Village cafés all shut, we went in the pub where they absurdly only accepted the exact money in cash. Even with my caution, I couldn’t fathom how that prevented the spread of covid. From the elevated beer garden, I espied an ideal grassy picnic spot. After eating, Phil threw pie crumbs to a cute jackdaw, which set small gulls into a frenzy. Far from aggressive, they affected endearing begging poses. We explored the sands, carefully avoiding dangerous squidgy bits, marvelled at wispy angel-like clouds floating above Kents Viaduct, went on the tiny pier then needed the loo again. “I’m not having more beer; it’s an endless cycle.” Phil spotted public conveniences – accepting the 40p charge in contactless form only! Railing at yet more gouging, we gave the locals something to talk about by going in together. Back in Grange, we explored the lower end of Main Street, found nothing useful and ended up back at the crap co-op and Spar. Hot, tired and achy, I lay on the bed and closed my eyes when Phil entered the bedroom. Annoyed, I gave up resting and revived later with a fluffy bath, thanks to free radox.

As predicted, The Salesman was sacked in the Cabinet re-shuffle as was Rabid Raab. The contract for the not-yet MHRA approved Valneva vaccine was cancelled. Scottish health minister Humza Yousaf called it ‘a blow’ to Livingstone. Research found 1/3 of arrivals into the UK March-May broke quarantine rules. Fuel and food costs led to a CPI rise of 3.2% August, the most for 10 years, which didn’t escape the notice of Ian Blackford. Putin’s entourage caught covid, putting him in isolation. Only 56% of Greeks immunised, it was hoped mandatory weekly testing of workers would encourage uptake.. The Taliban gave 3-day eviction notices to thousands in order to house their own fighters in Kandahar’s army residential district. The UN said their response to protests was ’increasingly violent’ which didn’t stop them from happening.

A better start Thursday, we strolled to the station and had no trouble using our railcard at the booking office. Riding the train the other way, we got different coastal views and a chuckle from ‘Cack-in-Caramel’ “It sounds like something from a fancy restaurant!” We visited Ulverston market and walked down the smallest canal, alive with plant and animal life. At Canal Foot, we again had to buy drinks to use facilities. Supping IPA overlooking the estuary, I fretted that it took 2 hours to get there and feared we’d miss the last pre-rush hour train. However, we were back in town in 30 minutes. My ankle didn’t’ hurt even though I’d forgotten a bandage that day, but blisters on our soles made us both footsore. Twilight above the bay resplendent with a stripey sunset and silvery waxing moon, I mentioned we hadn’t gone out in the evenings as expected. “What for?” asked Phil, “we wouldn’t get better views anywhere else.”

Vaccines mandatory to work in NHS and care jobs in 12 weeks’ time, today marked the deadline for a first jab. Metro reported staff could self-certify medical exemption. Hospitals in Scotland and Northern Ireland over-stretched not because of covid but staff shortages, the army was drafted in to help.

Life’s A Gas

Friday morning, the phone alarm succeeded in waking me to a yellow sunrise. The colours different every hour of every day, I would miss those expansive views. Things got fraught preparing to leave the cottage when I realised we hadn’t emptied the bins and only just managed it before the agreed check-out time. We trundled our cases through the ornamental gardens, sat on a bench, checked connections and decided to get the next train straight home rather than stop at Carnforth as planned. We took final photos of the bay (because we didn’t already have hundreds!) and surreptitiously sniggered at a trio of boring men with guitars chatting shit before the slightly delayed train arrived. We sat on folding seats in the busy carriage, which became packed at Lancaster. During a shorter wait at Preston, a schizophrenic gibbered at Phil and called me ‘a ginger Mysteron’. Where was his tinfoil hat! We fought our way over busy platforms and stood near the doors on another crowded service. At the next stop, a kind young woman indicated two free adjacent seats. We wedged cases in the footwell and I played games on my phone to block out the hubbub of mask-less fellow passengers. (More details to follow on Cool Places 2ⁱⁱⁱ).

Back in our valley, we wandered through an eerily quiet park, devoid of kids. After eating lunch with a proper pot of tea, I felt exhausted. Phil advised I rest and he’d go shopping. Unable to sleep, I lay listening for his return, heard nothing and went down to find him slumped on the sofa. He tetchily complained of having to go to the co-op and the convenience store, the former “like Russia, with things moved round to make gaps on shelves look less worse.” Popping out for a few items the next day, I had no trouble finding them, apart from tonic, and saw no sign of re-arranged stock. The Co-op boss later said prices would go up because of HGV, shipping and ‘global commodity’ hikes but that didn’t fully explain the randomness. The rest of the weekend was taken up unpacking, laundering, writing and photo-editing (nowhere near finished) I realised several details from the dream in July had come true, albeit in a jumbled way (see Part 72).

According to ONS, mask use dropped from 98 to 89%. What rot! No way were 89% of passengers wearing masks on trains coming home! And if 90% of us had anti-bodies, why the booster campaign? After Minister Robert Courts said the DfT would reduce covid test costs for travel, the traffic lights changed. Discussed at the Cabinet Covid Sub-committee, Shatts announced it in a series of tweets. From 22^nd September, 8 countries would come off the red list and the amber list would be scrapped 4^th October. The inoculated didn’t need pre-departure tests and PCR tests 2 days after arrival would be replaced with an LFT later on. Soaring wholesale gas prices forced plants to shut and led to a CO2 shortage. Headlines proclaimed it hit meat, packaging and fizzy drinks (as evinced by no tonic in the co-op for weeks). Then people started to realise it affected everything including apples. In the face of shortages of plastic crap and pigs-in-blanket, The Glove-Puppet was co-opted as Elf Minister ‘to save Christmas’* The Cumbre Vieja volcano on La Palma exploded, destroying 20 homes in Puerto Naus. 6,000 fled as molten lava flowed towards the ocean and acid rain and toxic gasses spewed into the air.

*National Economic Recovery Task Force, aka Committee to Save Christmas

References:

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

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

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

The Corvus Diaries

A Journal of the Coronavirus

Therese Coffey