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.