Tuesday, 7 July 2020

Hair today

My hair has finally been cut for the first time in more than four months! Yippee! It looks lovely, you say…? Oh, you’re too kind… but thank you for mentioning it!

Now that we can have a hairdresser within inches of us, I wonder how long it’ll be before Boris grows a pair and says we’re ‘allowed’ to hug our adult children and grandchildren? Difficult, though, for him to relinquish some of the power and control he’s had recently – for polticians, it’s the stuff of which dreams are made!

I can live without shops and restaurants with their social distancing and bloody hand gel, I don’t give a toss about gyms and swimming pools still being closed and (sorry, nail bars) I’ve never had a manicure in my life… all I want is to hug my loved ones without feeling that I’m being delinquent. Nothing else. Doesn’t seem much to ask, does it?

The rates of deaths and infection continue to decline – it really isn’t bad enough to continue keeping the entire country living under a poorly thought out set of petty rules and regulations. Economically, this country is dying on its feet – it’s not Covid-19 that’s doing it, it’s our spineless politicians.

TV Sport is off the agenda chez nous for the time being. Footballers, tennis players and, last Sunday, Formula 1 drivers (with six decent, honourable exceptions) all down on one knee. (Update 9.7.20: Dear god, the bloody cricketers were at it as well, yesterday).

I don’t expect to see politicians playing professional sport and I don’t expect to see professional sportsmen making political points. I certainly don’t want to be patronised by Lewis Hamilton telling me I ‘have a lack of understanding of racism’… I understand only too well, thank you. Come back to me when you’ve grown up and sorted out what’s going on in your head, Lewis.

They can do as they please, though, and so can I... While this nonsense is going on, I won’t have anything to do with televised sport. Thing is, it’s all temporary; give it a few weeks, maybe a couple of months, and it’ll all blow over until the next fashionable cause comes along. And it will… it always does. Sheeple love a ‘cause’.

Shopping news: We’re off to pick up an eagerly awaited ‘click and collect’ tomorrow. Compost! My life is one long round of glamour, excitement and fun...!

Saturday, 4 July 2020

Pub's open... cheers!

July 4th – Happy American Independence Day, if that’s your thing.

It’s also the day when we’re ‘allowed’ to get our hair cut and go to a pub or restaurant, as long as you’re prepared to jump through hoops and stand on one leg while wearing mis-matched socks… OK, I might have made up the bit about legs and socks but, quite honestly, I wouldn’t put it past them to come up with it.

I’m getting my hair cut on Monday - whoopee! - but, having said repeatedly that I will NOT wear a bloody stupid mask, I at first refused my lovely hairdresser when she offered an appointment but said I’d have to bring a mask. When I said “Thanks, but no thanks” and explained why, bless her heart, she said she’d come to my house instead… where I can do whatever the hell I like and no mask required. Up yours, Boris.

I’ll still be angry, old and grey haired but at least I won’t scare the horses. Oh, happy day.

Going to a restaurant will take a bit longer because I refuse to join in the pantomime of having my temperature taken at the door, using hand sanitiser at the table and social-distancing while I eat my meal served by a faceless waiter/ess. Where’s the enjoyment in that? Going to a restaurant isn’t only about the food.

I’m sure some restaurants will go to the wall, thanks to Boris, and I’m desperately sorry for the people who’ll lose their livelihoods but, until it all returns to what I consider normal, I’m out. I’m sick of cooking and I’d really love to have lunch out somewhere (anywhere would do!) but for now… no thanks.

In an effort to get myself out of the “I hate cooking” rut, I thought I’d have a go at this this little beauty. Nigella suggests serving it with custard, which is fine by me. Actually, anything that can be served with custard is fine by me, Might post a pic if it turns out ok.

Anyone who doesn’t like custard is not to be trusted. Remember that – it’ll stand you in good stead.

Monday, 29 June 2020

I do...

1974. A different century, a different place and a very different world.

46 years ago today Mr S-V and I got married. Yes, I know… it’s impossible, I don’t look old enough, I must have been a child bride! Very kind of you to say so… but, sadly, I think you should have gone to Specsavers! 

Still no chance of going out for dinner or away for a weekend (there’s a hell of a long line of events we’ve not been able to celebrate properly this year) so… I made some scones, M&S provided the clotted cream and there was the strawberry jam I made last week from our own fruit. A cup of tea and a glass of chilled Prosecco completed things. It would have been nice to have had our cream tea in the garden, but it’s been blowing a gale and not very warm. It’s the end of June, for goodness sake! None of it was quite what we had in mind, but there you go. Needs must.

The blasted virus still rumbles on with most of the media talking up the threat of a second wave – well, they have to say something, I suppose, or people might start to notice how truly irrelevant most media is.

There was a piece on the BBC this morning detailing the hoops you’ll need to jump through if you feel like having guests when we’re finally allowed to. After thoroughly cleaning your house and re-arranging the furniture (!), you’ll need to arm your guests with a cleaning cloth and a bleach spray for them to disinfect the loo after they use it; for further safety it’s best to ask them to bring their own plates, glasses and cutlery which they’ll have to take home to wash! Oh, and no singing! What…??! 

I’ve only got two words to say to that little lot… one of them is ‘off’. It’d be laughable if it wasn’t all so stupid.

Big news on the farming front: After extensive research (a quick search on Google pics) I’ve discovered what the cereal crop is in the farmer’s back field. Oats! He’s growing porridge! I bloody love porridge. When it’s ripe I’ll pop round with a cereal bowl and a pint of milk for a spot of breakfast. 

Or maybe it doesn’t work like that…

Wednesday, 24 June 2020

What a life...

There is something deeply wrong at the heart of our Govt – they’re not MPs any more, they think they're our controllers. They’ll start putting Soma in the drinking water soon (a la Brave New World by Aldous Huxley).

According to Boris’s latest edict, I’m going to be allowed from July 4th (Allowed? Allowed…!? How much more offensive can you get, Boris?) to have my family inside my house, but no hugging! They can even stay overnight as long as we stay socially-distanced!!! Jesus bloody Christ!

Well, as far as I’m concerned, they can go boil their heads – I will not be told what I can and can’t do in my own home. So, if I hug a relative, what’s going to happen? Will Big Brother shout at me through the laptop; will the police arrive, sirens blaring and brandishing handcuffs, because I had the temerity to get too close to my son; will the sky fall in? This is utterly insane.

Then we have the added cruelty of being told we can move a metre closer to our adult children and grandchildren but we’re still not allowed (there’s that bloody word again!) to hug them. What kind of twisted mind could come up with something like that?

I feel like I’m trapped in some awful sci-fi movie from which I can’t escape. Could somebody wake me up when this is all over, please?

I can’t believe it’s come to this; how on earth did it happen? When did British politicians become such hand-wringing bedwetters? Thank goodness the current bunch of MPs weren’t around during WW2 – we’d all be speaking German by now.

I saw a picture on Twitter today of Andy Murray ‘taking a knee’ before a match. I’ve loved tennis all my life and I've followed Andy's career since he was a scrawny teenager – I’ve cried for him when he lost and cried with joy when he won; one of the best days of my sport-watching life was when he won Wimbledon. I’m so disappointed in him and spitting with anger. Yeah, I know, not important in the scheme of things and like a lot of other crap that’s happened recently…I’ll get over it.

I once wondered whether it was possible to die of boredom; I’m now wondering if it’s possible to die of anger. If it is, I’m in grave danger of falling off my perch. Imminently.

On to more mundane matters… I made some jam today. Gorgeous as they are, we finally admitted defeat in trying to eat all the strawberries our little patch has been producing – so I made a couple of jars of jam. Now all I have to do is make some scones and procure some clotted cream. Sounds like a plan.

Huge excitement today… I have an appointment to get my hair cut!! My lovely hairdresser offered me a slot on her first day back at work. I’m so grateful to her.

There are still some lovely people about… few and far between, sadly.

Monday, 22 June 2020

Anybody want to buy a TV?

I’m seriously thinking of putting the TV on Ebay.

I’m sick of left-wing media propaganda, I’ve had enough of overpaid footballers ‘taking a knee’ (do they all have something wrong with their legs?), I can’t bear another pack of lies from politicians and, if I hear one more Govt advert exhorting me to Stay Alert, I won’t be responsible for my actions….!

I actually have to pay for that crap and I’ve had it with them – they can do what they damn well like but I don’t have to watch it or pay for it.

Apparently, the Covid-19 alert level has been lowered to Level 3, which means it’s considered to be "in general circulation" and there could be a "gradual relaxation of restrictions". Right, well let’s all get back to normal asap and stop this bloody nonsense.

If you’re still afraid of contracting Covid just wash your hands more often (why do people even need to be told?!) and wear a mask in public places if you want to (I don’t) – other than that, life could return to normal. Well, it could if politicians weren’t so reluctant to relinquish control. This is all about face-saving and arse-covering for them – we’re just the innocent pawns in it all.

There’s fewer than 1 in 1000 people with Covid right now, cases and deaths are still falling; our natural immunity has built up to the point where I’m more likely to be the next Pope than I am to contract Covid.

Boris is allegedly going to reduce the two-metre rule this week and possibly allow pubs and restaurants to open under certain as yet unspecified conditions. This is not good enough.

Open up the country, get everyone back to work and school and MOVE ON!

Aaand...... breathe!!

We’ve finally had rain… lots of it! If you listen carefully you can hear the plants and grass slurping it up! It’s been drier than the Sahara here for the last couple of weeks – so lovely to see some rain.

We’re picking strawberries at a faster rate than we can eat them! Not that I’m complaining – it’s such a short season, we don’t have time to get fed up with them.

Warm weather to come this week, apparently - salads and strawberries will be the order of the day, I think.

Sunday, 14 June 2020

Can it get any worse?

It’s getting sillier here by the day.

Just as we start the long, slow climb out of the Covid situation, we’re hit by BLM. It’s everywhere – you can’t escape it. Celebs, sportspeople and other assorted numpties with terribly solemn faces are lining up to show how non-racist they are, how inclusive they are, how sorry they are… for everything, ever, in the history of the world.

Or in other words… I’m a virtue-signaller. Look. At. Me.

In quick succession we’ve had Brexit (which still isn’t done – get your bloody finger out, Boris, we’ve been waiting for four years), Covid and now BLM. Give us a break, for god’s sake… allow us to draw breath before the next onslaught.

Non-essential shops are allowed to open tomorrow, complete with social distancing, hand sanitiser points, Perspex screens, floor markings and one-way systems. Changing rooms and loos are closed and you can only touch items if you intend to buy them. Whoopee! Sounds great doesn’t it? No. It sounds bloody awful! I refuse to take part in this pantomime – the more we comply, the more petty rules they’ll put in place and the more hoops we’ll have to jump through. If we put up with this it'll only encourage them.

Shops need me a whole lot more than I need them – just let me know when things are normal again... and when I can get my bloody hair cut.

Thank god that in a time of idiots, snowflakes and self-serving politicians we had the reassuring sight yesterday of the Queen at Windsor Castle. Still regal, still doing the right thing at the age of 94, at a pared-down version of Trooping the Colour. She’s a National Treasure. Gawd bless yer, Ma’am!

It was our little boy’s birthday yesterday. He was 41. Popped down to theirs for tea and chocolate cake in the garden. It’s a funny thing – the older he gets, the older I feel.

Absolutely lovely day today. Went for a morning walk around the lotties and the farmer’s fields – his potatoes are coming along nicely, but his cereal crop is still looking a bit thin. We need more rain.

Made a Greek-ish salad for lunch. To be honest, it bore merely a passing resemblance to anything Greek but it was just right for a warm day.

Picked a couple of handfuls of strawberries in the garden. Made me think of Wimbledon. See you next year, boys and girls.

Sunday, 7 June 2020

I don't know...

It’s ‘Flaming’ June – a time for warmth, growth, outdoor living and picnics. Actually it’s cold, it’s raining and the heating’s on. 

Right now I'm the only thing flaming around here. Flaming with anger. I'm talking about London.

Could someone explain to me what the hell is going on in London… where I was born and brought up, the place I used to love? It’s now a nightmare.

I think the Covid19 rules are stupid… however, we are still officially under lockdown, still social distancing, unable to congregate in groups of more than six people… yet London is being besieged by mobs of protesters. They say they’re anti-racist protests but that’s bull. They’re just a cheap bunch of brainless, lefty opportunists who are still pissed off because they lost the Brexit vote – shamefully, they’re using racism as a cover to justify violence. This has nothing to do with racism, it's all about ousting a Tory Govt.

At a time when the country is going through a crisis, they think this is the right way to behave? Really...? They’re morons.

Sadly, the police are no help; they, along with Labour MPs and the Mayor of London, appear to be complicit insofar as they’re making little effort to control the mob and stop the protests. Our esteemed national broadcaster, the lefty BBC, is now a comedy channel – their ‘news’ is laughable.

Until someone gets a grip on this it will only escalate.

The only good thing to be said about it all, it gives us a break from the relentless news of the poorly-managed Covid situation, which has gone far beyond laughable.

What the hell has happened to us?

I’m so glad I’m at this end of my life rather than at the other end – I knew this country when it was better than this.