New Year's Eve

Finally, the end of this bloody awful year but, sadly, no chance for anyone to have any sort of celebration and not much chance that things will be any better for the foreseeable. As of today most of the country is effectively under lockdown... again.

New Year is usually a time for renewal, for looking forward, for hope and for putting the past behind you. Looking forward with hope might be a bit of a stretch under the current circumstances and we seem to be dragging the past with us...

It looks like the Govt is actively trying to ruin this country while following their stated aim to "Protect the NHS". Almost every other business in the UK will be dead or dying but, no worries... Boris will have saved his "wonderful" NHS. What the bloody hell he's saving it for is anybody's guess. 

Once again this morning I stood outside my GPs surgery to collect my usual prescription... in a temperature of -2C and a thick frost. It's been so long since anyone went in the front doors there were dead leaves in a little heap outside. I'm reasonably healthy and able-bodied... just as well, if this is the 'service' they offer. That's our wonderful NHS for you.

Despite all the hype about vaccines (not for me, thank you) I expect this nonsense to go on well into next year, quite possibly for the entire year, mainly because they don't know how effective the vaccines will be in the longer term nor do they have a clear plan for how to draw this debacle to a close. Case numbers will naturally die down a bit when the better weather comes in spring and summer but if the figures start to rise again Govt will go into panic mode... and off we'll go again with the next lockdown. Rinse and repeat. Ad nauseum.

Still, at least Brexit is done, if you can call it that - a cobbled together crappy deal which no-one who voted for Brexit ever wanted. Four a half years too late but I will raise a glass at 11pm to say "Good riddance EU".

Tomorrow is not only another day, it's another year. Let's see what it brings.

Clearing the decks

Well, thank god that's over. I never want to have to go through that again. The first time in his whole 41 years that we didn't see our son in person at Christmas.

We had a nice Christmas lunch and lots of treats and picky bits but it all seemed a bit hollow and pointless.  

Decorations and tree were taken down yesterday morning. Yep, all cleared away on Boxing Day. I couldn't bear it any longer - it felt as though all the reminders of Christmas were mocking us, saying "Look at what you should have had"; so it's all put back in the boxes and safely stashed away until next year. If we're still in the same situation next December I won't need a new winter coat, I'll be sporting a straitjacket.

The Queen's speech on TV hit exactly the right note; made me cry when she said "All many people want is a hug or the touch of a hand". She may be the Queen but she's also a Mum and a Grandma - it's the first time in many years that she and Prince Philip have spent Christmas alone. She's 94 and he's 99; how many more Christmases do they have left to share with their family? 

Much of the south and east of the country has now gone into Tier 4, but I think this is only a prelude to full lockdown. A little thought... if lockdown works, why didn't the first one or the second one do the trick? Well, because they don't bloody work, that's why!!

Just to rub salt in the wound of 2020, some poor devils were flooded out of their homes over Christmas... and, as if that's not bad enough, we had a hell of a storm last night, a howling wind and driving rain battering the windows. Christ, haven't we suffered enough? Why not bring on the plague of frogs and have done with it?

The best thing about 2020 was the lovely afternoon tea we had with The Troops to celebrate Mr S-V's birthday in January; after that the year went steadily downhill and quickly turned into an unremitting nightmare. I'll be glad to see the back of it.

Tears in M&S

It was a ten-second interaction with a complete stranger at 7.15 this morning that did it. We were both trying to manoeuvre our trollies through a busy aisle in M&S; we both did the "After you...!"..."No, after you...!" shuffle, then she said "I don't know why we do it - it's the same every bloody year!". We laughed and moved off. 

At which point my laughter stopped, because nothing about Christmas this year is the same. I couldn't see the woman's smile or facial expression, we were carefully standing at a distance, to avoid over-crowding we'd been counted into the store, I was buying much less than usual because it's just the two of us here... and Mr S-V was waiting for me in the car instead of being list-master and chief trolley pusher. Everything felt wrong - everything is wrong. I promptly burst into tears.

Sailing a bit close to the water all the time right now, sadly. 

I'll be glad when this bloody awful Christmas is over. This is a dystopian nightmare where Covid has become a new religion and, like all religions, its adherents will brook no argument. It's not good.

Breaking News: According to that creep, Hancock, our area goes into Tier 4 on Boxing Day... They can do what they bloody like, I don't even care any more. I suspect we'll get countrywide lockdown in the New Year... they'll spend their Christmas break thinking what fresh hell they can heap upon us.

Absolutely broken

We drove to our son's this morning; car loaded up with presents, and food from yesterday's delivery that we can't possibly use just for the two of us. Left everything at their front door, waved to the grandchildren through the window, and drove straight home. It broke me... I never want to do anything like that again for the rest of my life. We barely exchanged a word on the way home... neither of us could speak.

Why did we do this? Well, not because I'm scared of catching Covid, I'm not, but because it's the law and I refuse to let our son break the law to come to us on Christmas Eve. Also, our grandchildren have to see people (us and their parents) adhering to the law even though though this particular one is unnecessary and pointless. Children need to know that you can't pick and choose which laws to abide by.

Yes... I know that, strictly speaking, we shouldn't even have delivered the pressies but we were doing the exact same thing delivery drivers have been doing since this whole debacle began. So clap me in irons, I don't much care.

It'll be Christmas for just the two of us with some nice food, a few presents... and a lot of tears on Skype, I suspect.

I've never believed in Heaven or Hell, they're just fairy stories for the stupid, but if by some freak chance there is a Hell I'd like Boris and his mates from SAGE to burn there for all eternity. Bastards, all of them.

I just want Christmas to be over - even in a good year it's a really charged and emotional time. This year it's almost more than I can handle.

Christmas cancelled

So that's it. Christmas cancelled. That bastard Johnson has pulled the plug on it.

The Troops live in an area which goes into Tier 4 at midnight tonight - they're not allowed to travel to us and we're not allowed to travel to them. Decorations are up, presents are under the tree, Waitrose delivery arrives tomorrow... and all for nothing.

I'm done crying - it's just despair now and crushing disappointment.

I really hope one day Johnson and his 'scientist' cronies pay for what they're doing to people. They won't of course... they're fireproof.

Nine months and counting...

... and still it goes on. London and other parts of the Southeast have been plunged into Tier 3 - I fully expect our area to follow suit after the Christmas 'amnesty'; the number of cases locally is rising, nothing exceptional, but just enough for panic stricken politicians to ruin a few more local businesses before the New Year.

Apparently, a group of idiot MPs have 'had talks' about whether we can still meet our families at Christmas. Boris says we can still get together but "...a shorter Christmas is a safer Christmas". Jesus Christ - another bloody slogan! They clearly wanted to renege on allowing people to meet up, but weren't brave enough to weather the backlash. 

It's unbearable that these total tossers can exercise such control over my life. Oh, and just for the record, I'm sick of being spoken about by politicians as though I'm some sort of imbecile, without a mind of my own, just because I have a few years under my belt. I might be a Grandma but I'll make my own decisions, thanks, and I'll decide what risks I'm willing to take. I don't need to be taken by the hand and spoon-fed by an overpaid, jumped-up Civil Servant! I am just about keeping a lid on my rage... mostly. 

As any football supporter (particularly West Ham fans, as I well know!) will tell you - "It's the hope that kills you", and that's one of the major problems we all have right now... there's no hope. Every single news bulletin, political interview and ministerial briefing only offers more doom and gloom - never any hope of better times, just more strictures and rules to adhere to. My mental health is shot to pieces - I can only imagine how bad it is for some poor souls.

People desperately need a break from all this Covid crap at Christmas, no matter how much misery-guts Whitty goes on about the risk. We have to feel normal for a short while so we can recharge our batteries before we plunge headlong into whatever 2021 holds. Give us something to hold onto, for god's sake!

I'm holding on to seeing our four lovely Troops on Christmas Eve and having an indulgent Christmas Day with Mr S-V. We'll probably end up watching The Godfather again - feet up on the sofa and something munchy to hand; it's become a bit of an annual tradition - what a great film!  

We both bought Christmas cards for each other as we usually do - himself doesn't like the one he gave me and I really hate the one I gave him... but that's internet shopping for you!

Tree's up!

 

Less than two weeks to go and our tree's up - not huge but, as anyone will tell you, size isn't everything! Little bit earlier than usual, but we need all the feelgood factors we can lay our hands on this year.

Father Christmas interrupted his busy schedule yesterday and did a drive-by through the village! It was lovely for the children who've had to miss a visit to his grotto this year.

I'm very much aware that everyone's Christmas plans may still come to nothing if Boris, even at this late stage, listens to his 'scientists'; he can still pull the plug on festivities. The hand-wringing boffins are giving daily warnings of dire consequences if we have the temerity to see our families over Christmas - I bet they're a riot at parties! It gets on my bloody nerves. They can sod off.

The sad thing is so many people are still going along with this nonsense; on the back of Govt lies they're going to spend Christmas on their own rather than risk getting a disease from which 99.5% of people recover. I've got no time for them if they're stupid enough to trust the Govt rather than think for themselves. See your family for god's sake, you're a long time dead.

Brexit is not going well. Boris and the EU have extended the deadline to give them time to cobble some sort of fudged deal together. What they're really trying to do is come up with a way of us staying in the cesspit of the EU while kidding us that we've left. Boris isn't much of a Leader and he certainly isn't a Leaver; if he really had been, we would have been out of the clutches of the EU a damn sight quicker than this. Liars and shysters, the lot of 'em.

I mentioned panic buying in my last post. Unsurprisingly, people are already clearing the shelves, not helped by newspaper headlines shrieking "Don't stockpile food!" What do they think people are going to do after seeing that?? As Corporal Jones might say "Don't panic, Mr Mainwaring"!!

Brexit, Covid and Christmas

Covid has been knocked off the main headlines by Brexit. The very same Brexit that we voted for in 20-bloody-16! If the Govt had wanted to they could have had it done and dusted within three months but, because they never wanted it to happen, they've done everything they possibly can to avoid us getting out of the rancid, self-serving cesspit of the EU. We'll never be free of it, the bloody politicians will make sure of that.

Boris is off to Brussels this week, presumably to reassure the EU... "Don't worry, we're not really leaving, this is all just smoke and mirrors to appease the British public".

I've noticed people recently saying they've started hoarding household and food essentials for when (or, more likely, if) Brexit happens - you'd think the world was going to end! What a load of hand-wringing bedwetters they are - grow up, you fools! How do they think we managed to find anything to eat before we had the massed ranks of overpaid, unelected EU bureaucrats giving us the benefit of their wisdom...?!

It's actually a relief to see headlines about anything other than Covid - I'm almost unable to even think about it any more - it makes me so angry what the Govt is doing to this country. I'm in a constant state of simmering rage and resentment and I don't imagine I'm the only one, either. 

Oh, and Matt Hancock blubbing and the nice picture of the first elderly lady to receive the vaccine makes no difference to me; I'm not having it, they can still shove their crappy vaccine where the sun don't shine until I can see the long-term data.

With so much stress around right now - and the smallest event assuming the proportions of Mount Everest - I very nearly murdered Mr S-V at the weekend! He accidentally managed cut through the cable of the lights on our little outdoor Christmas tree (don't ask...!) He's still standing though, and the situation was salvaged by draping another set of lights around the tree which looks as good as new... so long as you don't examine it too closely. Murder averted. Temporarily.

In a concerted effort to ignore Covid the Christmas cards are all written, ready for posting, and we've now started putting up the indoor decorations. We'll probably do the tree tomorrow. It's nice to see things starting to look festive but I can't stand it for too long - it comes down the day after Boxing Day, or even Boxing Day itself! I'm champing at the bit by then to get my house back to normal.

Had some Waitrose stollen today - it was a delight! Cake to marzipan ratio was just right. Highly recommended. Also managed to get my mitts on one of their panettone; can't wait to sample it, but I must save enough for a panettone bread and butter pudding - that's the best bit!

December 1st

1st of December... time to start opening my Advent calendar! Not chocolate, just little pictures. I'm very old-fashioned about these things..

I bought the pudding teapot from Next - I thought it was cute. Do I need it? No, I never use a teapot, but it's cheerful and it made me smile. I need as many smiles as I can get right now. Might put the outside lights up later on, that'll make me smile too.

Sunny but flippin' freezing this morning and Ken Bruce is on Radio 2 playing wall-to-wall Christmas music. All join in - sing along!

Disappointed, but not surprised, to see a sizeable number of people online parading their virtue (and gullibility) by making snarky comments about those who plan to see their family at Christmas. Saying stuff like "People are selfish, they should stay at home for the greater good, blah, blah, blah... They just have to give up their Christmas for one year - the two of us will be safely staying at home blah, blah... People should have a Zoom party like us, you can't be too careful" etc. etc. Oh, give it a rest!

What they really mean is "Look at us; aren't we wonderful? Just look at the sacrifices we're making - we're so superior to you; look how community spirited we are". 

Actually, I think they're all gullible and brainless and, furthermore, they're mistaking me for someone who gives a toss about the greater good... I've been told by Boris I can see The Troops, so I am, and I'll bloody love every second! So, sod off and take your hairshirt and your fake virtue with you.

Where was I? Oh yes... December 1st, the start of Christmas. 

Now that December's here my once-a-year treat made an appearance this morning - Belazu marinated figs - they're addictive, which is why I only buy them once a year as a Christmas treat. I love porridge and those little figs take it to another level!

Is it too early to start playing Christmas music? I do like a Christmas tune, even carols, although I've never willingly set foot in a church in my entire life. Might have to have a trawl through YouTube. Still a bit early for indoor decorations, though. Next week maybe...

Tiers before bedtime

More bloody tiers. Call it what you like, it's just lockdown by another name and we're all going to be in tiers until the Spring. Deep joy.

Tier 2 for us and our son. As of Tuesday we can visit each other but only outdoors... in bloody December!! 

This virus is deadly, apparently, until Dec 22nd... BUT on Dec 23rd The Troops can come to ours - we can hug and kiss, they can even stay the night! - then on Dec 28th the virus becomes deadly again and we're back in Tier 2. Yeah, right! If it's as dangerous as they'd have us believe, why are schools open, why are shops, restaurants and pubs opening up again and why 'allow' us to meet up over Christmas, with no social distancing? I think we all know the answer to that. We're being played for fools.

There's a serious case of smoke and mirrors going on here. Boris has ballsed up time and time again since this whole debacle started - he's now just trying to delay the inevitable moment when he has to face the music and own up to what he's done to our country.

This lockdown has had much more of an effect on my mood than the first one. Each day is just a matter of getting through it; there seems to be no end in sight, sadly, and that only makes it worse. 

I'm not in my dotage yet, but at my time of life every year counts; I'm giving up at least a year of what's left of it to Boris's criminally poor handling of a virus. A virus which more than 99% of people survive. That's a year I'll never get back. Nine months, and counting, since I hugged my grandchildren...

I glanced out at the sky as I was closing the shutters last evening; it was really clear - looking south-easterly I could see Jupiter, Saturn, Mars and the Moon. So beautiful. The lump of rock we inhabit seemed pretty pathetic by comparison.

Made a really nice pasta dish yesterday - it doesn't look anything special but it was definitely greater than the sum of its parts. Flavoursome, creamy and easy - best of all, it's all store cupboard stuff that's always to hand - what's not to like? I should have taken a pic but I only remembered when it was half eaten... duh!

We're into December next week, almost Christmas in fact! Season of mince pies, cake, naff films and more snacks than you can shake a stick at! Maybe that'll buck me up and get me to pull myself together.

Memories of better times

Breakfast was so lovely. We were shown to a table under a parasol at the edge of the terrace; just beyond the low wall small boats were transporting goods down the canal; larger water taxis were filled with people going about their day.

We ate mango and strawberries, little jars of vanilla yogurt and warm freshly baked pastries with chilled fresh orange juice and a pot of coffee. 

Birds were darting down from the overhanging trees in the hope of finding a few crumbs. It was bliss, I could have sat there all day.

That was then...

This is now...

Porridge at the kitchen table with a view of our garden under a grey sky... and a squirrel burying a walnut in the grass. Little devil.

Everything is so crap, the best thing I can do is keep dragging thoughts of better times from the deep recesses of my memory. I've revisited all sorts of places we've been. I'd give a lot right now to go out for breakfast or lunch but, even when Lockdown 2.0 is over, it's not going to happen if we still have to wear a bloody mask or have our temperature taken at the door. 

When the whole Covid thing started back in March some people were so spooked by it they were sanitising everything that came into their house and even quarantining their post - I read today that many of them are still doing it nine months later! Are they completely mad?! 

I imagine these are the same people who want us to be locked down until any possible threat of Covid has passed or until we've all been forcibly vaccinated. They really need to grow up and have a word with themselves. It's a wonder Mr S-V and I are still standing - I've never got involved in any of that "sanitising the shopping" nonsense. Just wash your hands and wipe the worktop with anti-bac spray, for goodness sake.

People are becoming seriously fatigued with all this now - the fear narrative we've been fed is wearing a bit thin and folk are questioning the veracity of the daily "cases and deaths" figures. Boris has handled it so badly; seems we're all going through this charade to avoid us finding out just how badly.

Having Christmas hanging over us like the Sword of Damocles isn't helping. We're craving the normality of being with our family and friends, but all we hear are threats from alleged scientists about dire consequences if we do. One Prof even said "There's no point in having a very Merry Christmas and then burying friends and family in January and February". Well, isn't he Mr Cheerful?!

I imagine Boris will appear on TV at some point and, like a Fairy Godmother, say "You shall go to the ball!" He's desperate to be seen as the good guy who 'saved' Christmas... bit late for that, Matey; that ship sailed a long time ago.

Turned a bit parky this week; we woke up to our first frost of the winter on Thursday morning - very chilly! I made a vat of broccoli and stilton soup, some of which we had for lunch with warm ciabatta; it really hit the spot. If I can get some coriander from M&S on Monday I might make some carrot and coriander soup - I seem to have cornered the market in carrots! Slight case of over-ordering by the purchasing dept, I think.

Vaccine? Not for me, thanks

Well, everyone seems to be hailing the imminent advent of a Covid vaccine. Everyone that is, except me. 

I'm not an "anti-vaxxer", individuals should do whatever they want, but there is no way on this earth I'll be having any such vaccine until it's undergone a hell of a lot more testing. I refuse to be an unpaid guinea pig for a drugs company.   

There's a reason it takes around 10 years to develop drugs and vaccines; it's the only way to establish what the long term effects may be. So if anyone thinks I'm being injected with something that's been around for five minutes, they're very much mistaken. Govt keeps trumpeting how safe it is, but if they're so sure of its safety why indemnify Pfizer, Astra Zeneca, etc. against lawsuits for damages? Just asking...

We're being given the sweetener that if we're good boys and girls and have the nice new shiny vaccine, we might... might... be able to hug our loved ones sometime next year....maybe. Naff off, Boris, and don't patronise me.

I saw that weasel Hancock on TV saying any vaccine will not be made compulsory but, like the rest of them in Westminster, he's a liar so I'll take it with a pinch of salt. They'll probably make it almost impossible to not have it by putting conditions on those who refuse. We'll see.

I'm so sick of this Covid business. I'm being eaten up with rage and resentment; I'm sure it's not good for me. Govt ministers are all running around like headless chickens when there's absolutely no need. I hope they never have a real crisis to deal with if this is the best they can do. Thank god there's not a war on.

Woke up this morning to rain absolutely hammering on the window - typical November weather. It then turned into brilliant sunshine and a cool breeze! I think the weather's confused and a bit tired and emotional, just like the rest of us.

Mr S-V has taken it into his head to give the hall a lick of paint so, while he was doing that this morning, I've been tidying up the freezer to make room for a few Christmas treats; I've already made some little Cheese and Onion Quiches and a batch of Not Sausage Rolls which are stashed safely in the frozen depths. Waitrose and Betty's can make the pudding, mince pies and cakes - there's a limit to how far my Christmas spirit will stretch this year... not very far at all, actually.

More lies

One thing that really surprises me about this virus is how willing people are to put their lives on hold. Politicians lie, no-one ever believes anything they say, that's a given just as night follows day... so why are people suddenly so keen to believe the guff being spouted by Govt? The evidence for Covid being a serious threat to life is, at best, flimsy and, at worst, a pack of downright lies, but people just lap it up. They nod their heads sagely and blindly go along with it all. Why?

When Boris called a second lockdown he said infection rates were rising and there was "...no alternative". Not Actually True. Infection rates were already falling. His decision for Lockdown 2.0 was based on figures which were inflated to 'prove' his point and then quietly changed again. See what I mean about politicians lying...? Has this knowledge of his lies made any difference to a gullible Joe Public? No, not at all.

All it took was a single press conference to influence people's thinking and scare them into compliance; it'll take a hell of a lot longer for them to see sense and realise this isn't about controlling the virus... it's about controlling them. More fool them for falling for it. They'll wake up one day and realise they've been had.

Sad to see even HM the Queen has been sucked into this lunacy and has worn a mask in public for the first time. She was a small beacon of normality while she was holding out against it, but I suppose she has to be seen to support the line being peddled by Govt... no matter how dishonest it is.

I watched the Remembrance Day Service from the Cenotaph this morning and observed the Silence. The Queen was there as were most members of the Royal Family. Very moving, as usual, but very different and somehow even more poignant without the marchpast of veterans. It must have been hard for them to be excluded, particularly as some of the older ones won't be around for the next one. This was entirely Boris's doing - I lay the blame squarely at his door. It will not be forgotten.

Strange times we live in. Donald Trump is out of the White House and Joe Biden is in... Good Luck America, you'll need it.

We did a bit of gardening yesterday before the garden goes into its own winter lockdown. Just a bit of cutting back, some tidying up and Mr S-V transplanted some strawberry plants. There were eight tight little buds on my white rose, looking a bit sorry for themselves - they clearly weren't going to bloom stuck out there in the cold so I brought them indoors and put them in a jug on the mantlepiece. They started to open today... the last roses of summer.

Here we go again... Round 2

                         Remember, remember the Fifth of November

                               Gunpowder, treason and plot 

                         I know of no reason

                               Why the Gunpowder Treason

                                        Should ever be forgot

Well, here we are... Lockdown 2.0, day 1 and Bonfire Night. Quite apt that both should fall on the same day; just a shame we don't have a modern day Guy Fawkes to hand who could sort out Parliament with a barrel or two of gunpowder...

Once again, we're all being prevented from seeing our friends and loved ones; we're effectively in prison even though we've done nothing wrong.

I am forbidden by British law from seeing my son. I know... it sounds utterly impossible, but that's where we are right now.

Truth be told, apart from not seeing the Troops, lockdown won't make a lot of difference to us - we've been nowhere much since the middle of March - but some poor souls are having to go through the pain, again, of having their livelihood whipped from under them. Quite how long the country can go on like this is anyone's guess. I dread to think of the state of people's mental health when this is all finally over... not that Boris or the NHS gives a toss.

Traffic volumes today are right down, it's a case of 'spot the car' - the only people out and about are delivery van drivers and lorry drivers.

Once again supermarkets are running out of certain items because stupid people insist on stockpiling stuff. Just what the hell are they doing with all those toilet rolls? Actually, no... don't bother, I'd rather not know!

Our usual dinner out before Christmas, euphemistically known as the "office party", is just one more thing in a long list that's cancelled this year. Our favourite restaurant emailed me today to say how sorry they are to have to close again, but they "...hope to welcome guests back before Christmas". I sincerely hope so too, but I have my doubts on two counts... will they still be in business and will we still be in lockdown?

My lovely neighbour texted me yesterday offering help with shopping if we need it during lockdown. How nice is that?

Regardless of all the Covid nonsense, we still have to make some sort of plan for Christmas; luckily I've managed to book a Waitrose slot for Sunday 20th. There may also be a small delivery from Bettys and perhaps a little something from Hotel Chocolat...!

Ghoulies, ghosties and goblins...

... aka politicians, scientists and Govt advisers. Happy Halloween!

You're in Tier 3... no sorry, you're not, it's Tier 2; no, not you, you're in Tier 1; you up North, Tier 3 now! and if you don't behave yourselves, it'll be a total lockdown... in, out, in, out...shake it all about.

Gloomy faces with even more gloomy voices keep popping up in the news online, giving us every possible doomsday scenario they can think of. To hear them speak you'd think the end of the world was imminent. Oh well, I suppose coming up with more and more nonsense keeps them off the streets.

They actually expect us to take this crap seriously! Those in power (I won't say "in charge" because none of them are fit to be in charge of a whelk stall) are allegedly having a meeting (another one!) to decide what the Christmas rules will be. I can't wait to see what they come up with next. I said we might have to stand on one leg wearing odd socks - it may still happen.

I have a vision of folk dragging garden furniture out onto their drive, or even onto the pavement, to eat Christmas dinner because their families aren't allowed indoors. Could be quite convivial, if a little chilly...mince pie anyone? I'm joking but nothing would surprise me any more.

Busy week chez nous. Tea and cake with the Troops last Sunday, then did our M&S shopping on the way home; our lovely plumber fixed the leak in the upstairs bathroom on Monday and the window cleaner came round; visited a sick relative on Wednesday and on Thursday we had the weekly Waitrose delivery. Friday, I cleaned the insides of the upstairs windows. Now look, you can't say I don't live life on the edge - it's just one long whirl of fun and excitement!

After much tearful dithering on my part (and an astonishing amount of patience on the part of Mr S-V and our son!) a decision has finally been made about Christmas... the Troops will be coming here for lunch as usual on Christmas Eve!! I'm so pleased, I couldn't bear not to see them. I'm a very happy bunny. We never see them on the Big Day anyway, it's always just us two, we're used to that and it's nothing new. 

Just need to sort out a menu and the logistics for grocery deliveries now.

Of course... the best laid plans, etc.... it may yet go horribly wrong if Boris goes all weak-kneed and throws us into lockdown again. We'll see...

Update: We'll be in lockdown sooner than I thought if this morning's news is anything to by. It looks like there'll be a month-long lockdown sometime between now and Christmas. Jesus bloody wept. Here we go again...

Update Saturday evening: Well, he's done it. Lockdown from Nov 5th to Dec 2nd. He's insane - fully certifiable - there's no other explanation for it.

It could be a long winter...

Every time a politician opens their mouth, things get worse. 

Manchester, along with a large part of the North of England, has been put into Tier 3 and Wales is going into a 'firebreak' lockdown for a couple of weeks. Wee Nippy has just extended Scotland's 'circuit-breaker' for another week... and Boris? Who knows? He doesn't have a clue what he's going to do next. 

No doubt, when everything opens up again, cases will go up and off we go again - more Tier 3s and local lockdowns, maybe over Christmas and New Year. Rinse and repeat... 

Until someone grows some balls we'll just stumble from one bad decision to another, but sadly, Boris is weak. It's just a virus - there've been plenty of them since mankind first evolved and we'll need to learn to live with this one, same as we have with every other virus we've ever encountered. The only way to deal with this is herd immunity - we can't keep dipping in and out of lockdown forever... the economic damage is astronomical as is the damage done to people with illnesses other than Covid, most of whom are being ignored by the NHS, incidentally.

In search of a little light relief from the relentless doom and gloom, I read this piece about biscuits earlier this week. Who knew there was so much history to the humble biccie? My favourite is a plain digestive; the ones from M&S are really good, like McVitie's used to be before they ruined them. I'm also a fan of custard creams... in fact anything cheap and cheerful without chocolate will do me nicely, even a Rich Tea, but never dunked. I can't stand sog!

On the subject of biscuits we sent some Halloween chocs to the Troops, along with a tin of these little beauties. I'm reliably informed they are very nice... well actually, "Ahmazinnggg" is the exact word my daughter-in-law used in a text!

We change the clocks this weekend; it's staggering to think we hadn't even changed to summertime when all this Covid nonsense started. We will be plunged into darker afternoons but at least the mornings will be a little lighter for a while. Comfort food, in some quantity I think, will be required to get us through what promises to be a bloody awful winter.

Mr S-V is still manfully attempting to teach me to play chess... and I am still womanfully doing my best. It's probably true to say our games will never be quite on the Grandmaster scale, but I'm not giving in yet; he might, though!

Tiers of a clown

Apparently, we're all going to be in tiers. Some of us of course are already in tears every bloody day...

Boris, Sunak and Whitty - the Three Stooges - put on their best grave faces and gave a press conference on Monday, giving chapter and verse about how they're going to continue fouling up our lives for the foreseeable. As of today there are three tiers of restrictions... I can't bear to read the details, for all I know it may depend whether there's a full moon or a northerly breeze.

My money is still on another full lockdown - I think Boris is daft enough to do it and there are plenty of people daft enough to support it.

Honestly, if you read any of this nonsense in a work of fiction, you'd bin the book for being too far-fetched and completely unbelievable. But, sadly, this is our life now.

Trying to understand why they're doing this is impossible... Like trying to put your elbow in your ear or reason with a two-year-old - it can't be done.

It must be devastating for people still trying to run a business in the areas with the strictest restrictions. This is all so unnecessary - they'll be tearing their hair.

Donald Trump seems to have recovered well from his brush with, as he calls it, the "Chinese Virus". Given that he's 74 and overweight, that's quite a turnaround. Well done, that man!

There's a couple of walking groups round here - I saw a group of about a dozen ladies "of a certain age" go past last week. They weren't socially-distanced and not one of them was wearing a mask - they were just walking, chatting and having a nice time. I nearly rushed out and shook them all by the hand! It felt weird to see something so unremarkable that actually felt so strange.

If you're as brassed off as I am, you might like this recipe from Nigella's site for Emergency Brownies - it struck me that, the way things are going, it'll be needed sooner rather than later.

Masks and hugs...

.... my biggest personal bugbears right now.

Without the mask rule, I'd feel able to go out for a spot of shopping followed by lunch somewhere nice, but there's nothing normal about having to cover your face to go to into a shop or restaurant. It's also completely irrational and illogical... Mask on to go into the restaurant, mask off when you sit down, mask on if you need to pop to the loo, mask off when you get back to the table, mask on when you get up to leave. Jesus bloody wept! Someone explain how the hell that constitutes "normal" because I'm damned if I know. Does the virus know when people are standing up??

Then there's hugs. This piece caught my eye. Touch is a normal part of our existence - starting with cradling a new-born baby and continuing in a myriad different ways throughout our lives... until the final hand-holding as we breathe our last.

All I want is to hug my son and grandchildren. It's a physical pain I carry around with me. The Govt has told them not to, to protect us because we're "old"... so, until the Govt tells them it's ok, they won't. We love them for thinking they're protecting us, even though we don't want them to! I honestly don't blame them at all for being cautious, they're just following instructions. The instructions have come from a discredited, dishonest Govt, though... and therein lies the problem.

The situation needs a shift in public opinion, where the public finally says "Enough - we're sick of this! We're not doing it". That shift can't come quickly enough for me.

I know there are bigger issues attached to Covid but these are my issues... the ones that really brass me off and affect the quality of my life. The biggest issue, of course, is the trashing of the economy; thankfully, at my age, that has limited scope to affect me, although for some poor souls their lives have been irreparably damaged. Well done, you absolute planks in Govt. *walks off, shaking head*

I'm still working through all the bits of housework I usually ignore - the pantry has come in for some serious elbow-grease this week. I'm very lucky to have a proper pantry where absolutely all our ambient food is stored, but it's a bit of a job to clean. One shelf at a time, followed by a cup of tea, is the way I'm tackling it!

Mr S-V has also taken on a mammoth task - he's attempting to teach me to play chess... again! He's tried several times over the years and I still haven't got it, but hope springs eternal... there's a chance I might grasp it this time - a slim chance, but you never know!

Tests, Trump and treats

I went to my GPs' surgery on Friday for a blood test, which I should have had four months ago... but, thanks to Covid, it's been easier to get into the Queen's bedroom than to see a healthcare professional in person. They've been holed up behind locked doors for six months - quite possibly hiding behind their desks, for all I know. 

Getting into the building was quite a saga. Ring the doorbell then wait in the pouring rain for someone to unlock the door; don a mask (or in my case, a scarf - I don't do masks!) and have my temperature taken before being allowed to stand inside the door; confirm answers to the questionnaire that was taken when I booked the appointment; administer hand sanitiser... and finally... I gained admittance to the inner sanctum. Hoo-bloody-ray!

We were told to "Protect the NHS" way back in March - is this what we were protecting?

Blood test was completely uneventful (although, thanks to a heavy-handed phlebotomist, I have a massive deep purple bruise to show for it!) and a bit of an anti-climax to the pantomime that preceded it. Incidentally, the surgery itself was like the Mary Celeste - well, they don't want sick people coming in and cluttering up the place, do they?! 

Speaking of sick people, Donald and Melania Trump have both tested positive for Covid. Donald's in hospital but it hasn't stopped people being absolutely vile about him - shame they can't see that even the President of the United States is more than his politics... he has a family that loves him and wants him back. The last thing a world in chaos needs right now is the death of one of the most important people in this world. Get well soon, Mr President.

Mushrooms

It's been raining almost continuously since Friday - that's enough now, thank you! The lotties are looking very sorry for themselves and there's no hope of the farmer ploughing just yet, the fields are sodden. With all the wet weather we've grown some pretty impressive clumps of mushrooms on the grass in the front garden. I've no idea whether they're edible and I'm not about to risk life and limb to find out! Not a great picture but it was taken from the porch because of the damn rain...

I'm pleased to report that our treats from Bettys have been a delight. The Fat Rascals are bloody lovely, as is the Lemon and Lime loaf - they remind me of my childhood, when cakes were plainer but tastier, somehow. Stem Ginger cake will be sampled tomorrow. I was a bit worried about buying cake online - would I just receive a box of crumbs?! - but the packaging was excellent as is the taste and quality. 

I wonder what they'll have in the way of Christmas goodies? Asking for a friend...

Lost the plot

Has anyone seen the plot? Boris has lost it.

We're lurching from one badly thought out rule change to another. It's all so complicated and convoluted that even Boris gets it wrong when questioned. Covid isn't the problem, it's the poor decisions being taken by Govt that are doing the damage. If this was a film it'd be something like Groundhog Day crossed with Misery. Let's just say I don't think it'd be a success at the box office.

The newspapers are finally starting to get the message - they really need to keep hammering it home. If you're a politician of a nervous disposition this morning's headlines didn't make easy reading. 

It really does look as though the Tory party has a death wish. To be honest, I wish it'd hurry up; just die and give us all a break. I don't much care who we get next - they can't possibly be any worse.

Boris and the Chuckle Brothers had yet another press conference earlier on today... god help us. I haven't seen, read or listened to any of it. I'd rather eat my own leg than watch that rubbish - I refuse to give them any credence. I daresay I'll find out eventually what joys they've come up with this time...

On a more jolly note, I've ordered us some treats from Bettys of Harrogate as a try-out before Christmas - arriving tomorrow. I think we're in a period where, if treats were ever needed, they're certainly needed now! There'll only be the two of us here for Christmas but, given that it won't be anything like normal, I think I'll just buy stuff in and let someone else do the prep for a change. 

It really feels like autumn now - summer disappeared pretty sharpish! The weather is any combination of grey, wet, windy and cold. It could be a very long winter. I wouldn't mind a bit of snow, though, just so I can give my new boots an airing!

It's getting worse

There's a very good chance I will still be sitting here wittering in six months time. Boris has had an almighty rush of blood to the head - he's imposed another round of rules and regulations, with the threat of significantly worse restrictions to come if we don't behave ourselves. 

I'd say this was almost laughable in its predictability but actually there really doesn't seem to be anything to laugh at, right now.

The Chuckle Brothers (Whitty and Vallance) were sent out to face the media yesterday in order to prepare us. Two little rays of sunshine, they are. Not. With solemn faces they painted the worst possible picture of where this is all headed unless we do something! 

Cue Boris, riding in on a white charger, jacket flapping, hair flying..."I'll save you!! You have to work from home and leave pubs and restaurants at 10pm or we'll need to lock you all up again for your own safety! Prime Ministers have to take difficult decisions, so do as you're told sheeple - you'll thank me for this one day".

No... we won't thank you, Boris. We'll curse you, long and loud, for your ineptitude, your over-reaction and your pathetic inability to be the leader this country needs. 

Apparently he's making a statement of some sort later on today. I can hardly wait... 

So Christmas is completely cancelled for us this year. There's no way it can be anything like normal and I'm having nothing to do with the 'new normal'. We'll buy presents for the family and send a few cards so people know we're still alive, but that's about it. How the hell is anyone expected to feel festive and joyful when we're not even allowed to give members of our close family a hug to say "Happy Christmas"? I don't want any part of it.

In contrast to the doom and gloom in the news, the weather today is lovely; warm and sunny with a gentle breeze. It appears to be the very last day of summer - cool, wet and windy from tomorrow. On the strength of that, we had a tasty salad with some warm bread for lunch. I purchased some fresh beetroot and a chunk of feta in Marks yesterday - beetroot, feta and walnut salad came to mind. 

It was bloody lovely and made a nice change, haven't had this for a while. Won't be long before the casseroles and soups of winter start making an appearance.

Six months on

Six months ago today I went to the dentist and we popped into Sainsbury's on the way back... it was like a war zone! There'd been plenty of reports in the news about the looming Covid situation and, clearly, people had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen next. That evening Boris was on TV telling everybody over 70 not to go out and avoid all social contact because of Covid. A week later he imposed lockdown for everyone.

Since that day, March 16th, the one and only shop I've been into (once a week) is an M&S Food store. That's how it'll be for the foreseeable for me, unless the requirement for masks is removed.

I had no idea then that we'd still be enduring this nonsense now, nor that I'd still be sitting here talking/typing to myself like a bloody idiot. Probably just as well I can''t see into the future.

Life is still far from normal, nor will it be if Boris has his way.

Working from home, GP telephone appts and ordering almost everything online have all been fast-forwarded by Covid. Thank god for delivery drivers! Of course those things would have happened anyway eventually, day-to-day life obviously evolves and changes, but it would have been spread over a much longer period. There's no going back now, these things have changed forever. 

I talked about the Rule of Six, well apparently you can't even 'mingle' in groups of more than six now according to our deranged Home Secretary. Go outside and give your head a wobble, luv - you're clearly not yourself. I think there must be something in the water at the House of Commons, it's doing them no good.

One day this will all be history - how will it be recorded? I think it'll be spoken about as "The year Govt lost its mind". God knows, I don't expect much sense to come out of Westminster, but what we've seen over the last six months is insane. The size of the national debt is enough to make your eyes water; the cost to individuals, in terms of job losses, personal debt, health, stress and anxiety is incalculable. Don't even get me started on what all this has done to people's mental health. 

So much has been cast aside by Govt in its stated aim to "Protect the NHS". This was never about the threat of Covid, it was a cover up for the state of "our wonderful Health Service" and all the "heroes" who work there. Boris has dug himself into a very deep hole and he has no idea how to get out.

Plenty of good people work for the NHS but the organisation itself is a disgrace... an overblown monolith, full of its own importance and stuffed with managers who aren't fit to run a whelk stall. It's the new religion... saying anything critical about our sainted NHS is akin to blasphemy.

Now we've all saved the NHS, maybe they could get back to work and start actually seeing patients... well, those who haven't already died through lack of medical care! GPs and many consultants are still hiding behind locked doors and people are still falling ill, they're just not getting any proper care. All hail our wonderful NHS....!!!

I wonder if I'll still be sitting here in another six months wittering to myself? I wouldn't bet against it...

The Rule of Six

It's getting worse. As of Monday 14/9 we can once again only gather in a maximum group of six, indoors or out, same as it was a couple of months ago. The Rule of Six. Schools, offices, supermarkets, weddings and funerals are still all OK to carry on, though, because the virus is very clever and it knows not to go to those places... No, it's true. Trust me, I'm a doctor...

The new Rule of Six of course, has the added benefit for politicians of closing down any possibility of protest. They're not as stupid as they look... well, not where self-interest is concerned, they're not.

Incidentally, if you're baffled by the Rule of Six, this should make it a whole lot clearer. ;-)   

Chances are furlough will be extended, too, to avoid thousands of people being made unemployed on 1st November. Boris will do anything he can to avoid having to face up to the pig's ear he's made of this, even if it means making things worse. I fully expect we'll go back into lockdown at some point, too. I wouldn't put it past him.

It seems that just as there's the merest glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, Boris, in his jobsworth peaked-cap, comes along and snuffs it out. 

We need something big to happen, a major event, to give politicians something else to occupy them and wipe Covid from the news. Can't think what that might be for the moment, but it seems to be the only way out of the mess we're currently in.

Christmas is looming on the horizon; it may be three months away but folk are already getting very edgy about what they'll be 'allowed' to do. My opinion is, you should do what you damn-well like and ignore Govt diktat. Are Boris's Covid Marshals going to hammer on your front door while you're eating your Christmas dinner and demand to know how many are at your table? I'd like to see them try! They could get into the spirit of things and dress as Father Christmas, maybe give a chorus or two of "Ding Dong, Merrily on High"... could be quite festive!

I'm so brassed off with it all I've started doing all the bits of housework that I usually ignore, just to take my mind off all the crap... I took everything out of the fridge and cleaned it on Thursday, then I cleaned all the downstairs windows. I know... it's a worry. Things are that bad.

On a day-to-day level the situation is really getting harder to handle. I jokingly said some months ago they'd be putting Citalopram in the water supply... I'm actually at the point where I think it'd be a good idea! It's a good job I don't drink, I'd be an alcoholic by now.

I think I'll shut all the windows and have a blast of Led Zeppelin - always makes things feel a bit better.

Still here, still angry

I've been seething all week about one thing or another and I'm still royally pissed off.

This whole virus debacle has left me feeling old and very much ignored. I've become invisible. Oh, there's plenty in the media about schoolchildren, people supposedly going back to the office and universities re-opening... but what about people like me?

There's a lot of us; retired, oldish but not decrepit, reasonably healthy and active for our age, law-abiding tax-payers who just want to get on with our lives... and no-one, not the media and certainly no politician, gives a toss.

Bastards.

You know what I think about masks. You'll understand then why I was apoplectic this week when I noticed a discarded mask hanging on the hedge opposite our house! I nearly burst into flames!! What the hell is wrong with people? Do they think it's OK to leave a trail of their filth behind them? There's a lot to be said for social distancing; it suits me just fine, I wouldn't want to go anywhere near these disgusting individuals. *shudder*

Then, on top of all the Covid crap and the BLM crowd still kneeling down at the drop of a hat, we have Extinction Rebellion making a damn nuisance of themselves again, this time blocking newspaper distribution amongst other things. Bless their naive little hearts, they think we can influence the climate... and blocking traffic, vandalising buildings and being a pain in the arse will miraculously change the climate how, exactly?

If they had two brain cells between them they'd be able to see how pointless their actions are - I think their main problem is they don't have enough to occupy them. Getting a job might be a good idea. As a side issue, most of them look like a bloody good wash wouldn't go amiss.

One potato, two potato...

Anyway... on to more important matters. The farmer was harvesting his spuds when we went round the field yesterday morning! Autumn is most definitely on the way.

Talking of harvesting, we've strung up all our onions in the shed and picked the last beetroots and tomatoes; given their unpromising start they've both done really well. Perhaps, next year, I'll be able to go to a garden centre for supplies (without wearing a bloody mask!) and not have to buy it all online.

I keep having to push my horizons further and further into the future, just to stay sane. Please don't let it still be like this at Christmas.

Last day of Summer

It's officially Summer Bank Holiday today - and officially Autumn tomorrow! Why on earth we have a holiday this late in the summer is a mystery. The weather is usually disappointing and this year is no exception - it's bright but cold and I've had the heating on for the last three days! This does not auger well for the winter.

We had curried veg and lentil soup with cheese scones for lunch - that's not very summery, is it?

Just got back from a chilly walk round the lotties and fields this afternoon. It reminded me I saw someone online the other day moaning that people she passed while walking by the river weren't wearing masks. Masks? Outside? In the open air...?? Get a bloody grip, you stupid woman, have a word with yourself for god's sake. Some people...

Feeling pretty pissed off at the moment actually - this nightmare seems never-ending. It's so difficult to find pleasure in anything when everything feels so wrong; all the things I'd normally do when life gets me down a bit aren't open to me at the moment. I feel I'm just treading water, waiting for all this crap to be over.

All along I've been surprised the media has been so complicit with the Govt in this Covid nonsense. It's a flu virus, that's all...a nasty one admittedly, but there have been much worse in the past. There are some encouraging signs that the media is losing patience, though. Finding this by the BBC's doom-monger-in-chief, Fergus Walsh, was a surprise; the BBC has been the prime cheerleader for the disaster narrative. Maybe people are at last starting to wake up to the fact that it wasn't the virus, it was the Govt's handling of it that's needlessly decimated the economy and ruined people's livelihoods.

The Govt caused all this damage. The virus isn't the problem, THEY ARE! Given that they're the problem, they are highly unlikely to be the solution. Govt ministers are like rabbits in the headlights right now - they know they've screwed up but they don't know what to do next... so they keep telling us how dangerous the virus is in the hope it'll buy them time to work something out.

Good luck with that, chaps - I think you have a losing battle on your hands; there's only so long you can all keep crying wolf.

Bank Holiday again

The mask debacle continues. There's been a complete u-turn on masks in schools.

When schools go back next week secondary pupils in England may, at the Head's discretion, be required to wear masks in communal areas... except if you live in an area where there's a local lockdown, in which case they're mandatory. For schools in Scotland and N Ireland masks are mandatory in communal areas and on school buses, but not required in classrooms. In Wales... who knows, because they can't make their bloody minds up.

Now, have you got all that? Keep up, I'll be asking questions later!

I thought masks/face coverings (even though completely unnecessary) should only be worn once and then be washed or binned. So, every child will have a stack of masks because they'll need a clean one each time they leave a classroom, right? Yeah... that's not going to happen, is it?

What will happen, is grubby little oiks will shove them in their pockets and use the same one all day or quite possibly all week; they'll probably even share one with their mates. Yuk! That'll really help in containing the almost non-existent virus.

Someone didn't think this through, did they?

Laughably, Boris is almost pleading with people to go back to their offices instead of working from home. He can see the damage he's done to city centres and he's panicking. After scaring people to death five months ago, he's discovered he can't just switch off people's fear, nor can he make them want to spend £1000s in getting to work when they're quite happy WFH, thank you very much!

If you want things back to normal Boris, ditch the social distancing and masks. You're giving mixed messages, matey. Either things are normal or they're not - you can't have it both ways.

It's Bank Holiday weekend, which accounts for it being cold, miserable and pouring with rain! Two weeks ago we were complaining about the heat and now things have gone from the sublime to the ridiculous! My poor tomatoes, currently shivering in a northerly wind and driving rain, will never ripen without some warmth and sun for a few days.

I might make some soup or maybe a curry - warm us up a bit.

Oh, and just to prove summer's officially over, John Lewis have opened up their online Christmas shop this week! It's still only August, for goodness sake...!

Lies, damned lies

So, on top of PHE lying about the Covid death figures, it's recently emerged, after a SAGE investigation, that the NHS has been lying about the number of hospital admissions for Covid. It just gets better and better.

Does anything about this supposed pandemic hang together? It all lies, lies and more lies.

Every parent will recognise the situation we're in right now. When children are in trouble they'll lie repeatedly in the hope they can talk themselves out of it - despite knowing, having been told by their parents on numerous occasions, that they're digging themselves in deeper and their lies will always come back to bite them.

It seems that our esteemed Govt has reverted to childhood and turned into a bunch of lying teenagers. Great... just what we bloody need.

On to less stressful matters, I think. Govt shenanigans are not good for my blood pressure. Deep breaths...

It's been a plummy sort of week - after making jam last weekend, I've since made six kilos of compote (frozen in batches ready to have with porridge in the months to come) plus eight jars of chutney using not only our own plums but also apples and onions from the garden, too. It's been quite a production line. All the plums are off the tree now but I've kept a few back at Mr S-V's request. He's on a promise... of a plum crumble! It's only a small tree but it's done us proud this year.

After stripping the plum tree, we pulled all the onions - they're drying out on top of the soil before being strung up in the shed. It's all starting to feel quite autumnal... it's really noticeable now that the nights are drawing in.

As well as our little veg plot, the farmer's fields are also starting to look a bit denuded - he's taken the haulm off the top of the potatoes in preparation for harvesting in the next few days. He's clearing his fields at the other side of the village at the moment, so his tractor is back and forth past our house like a fiddler's elbow.

I'm still going nowhere near any High St shops (bloody masks!) so have just ordered boots, a pair of trousers and a winter coat online. If any of it fits, I'll be amazed...

Weather, vaccines... and more jam

There's been a bit of welcome coolness and rain for the past couple of days – standard British summer weather for which the garden is very grateful. Lovely to wake up and hear the rain against the window. It was as hot as the flames of hell all last week, with very little breeze. When a feeble draught occasionally put in an appearance it was as though someone had switched on a huge fan heater! We gratefully decamped to the downstairs bedroom, where it’s a bit cooler, in order to get some sleep.

The weather at least took our minds of the continuing Covid saga. It’s becoming ever more ridiculous; cases are obviously up, they're being found because of more testing, but deaths are down to almost negligible levels. Three deaths reported today. We still have a raft of rules and regulations to abide by, however, not to mention the subject of masks... a very sore point with me, as you may have noticed.

Boris has turned into a tinpot dictator – we could now be fined up to £3,200 for not wearing a bloody mask! They’re going to keep this going as long as poss, purely in order to cover their own sorry arses ineptitude.

Until I can go out without effectively being muzzled, I won’t be entering the portals of a cafe, restaurant, public building, railway station, bank, NT property… or anywhere else.  I step into an M&S Foodhall once a week… and that’s it for me for the foreseeable future. I’m now only buying what I actually need. No discretionary purchases, no wandering into a shop and buying another tee-shirt or a handbag just because I like it, not because I need it; it’s saving me shedloads of money!

Everyone seems to be pinning their hopes on a vaccine, but I think it's unlikely there'll be one available any time soon. Safe vaccines take years to come onstream; if there's one coming out in a matter of months, it won't have had sufficient human trials, they won't know how it might interact with existing medical conditions and they'll clearly have no way of knowing about any long-term effects. No thanks - there's no way I'll be having it. Give mine to someone else.

I sometimes feel like I’m living in the pages of a dystopian sci-fi novel; life as we knew it no longer exists.

Thankfully the garden carries on doing what it always does regardless of Covid. We're picking tomatoes faster than we can eat them and Victoria plums are now ripening at quite a rate. Picked a goodly amount of them from the garden and spent a happy hour yesterday morning making six jars of plum jam. Copious quantities of toast and scones will be required!

Bread, barbecues and BS

It’s as hot as hell here today and I bloody hate hot weather – we’re holed up indoors with the shutters and windows firmly closed. I’ll be so glad when the summer’s over – it’s bad enough putting up with this Covid nonsense without having to struggle with the weather as well. Every day seems like a battle on several fronts at the moment. I’m so looking forward to colder days and going for a walk when you can see your breath in the air. Sounds like bliss right now.

I did a really stupid thing on Wednesday, there’s clearly no hope for me… I put all the ingredients for a loaf into the bread machine and switched it on; four hours later, beep, beep, beep, I lifted the lid to find a wholemeal brick! I’d put all the ingredients in… except the yeast! I’ve been using a bread machine for nearly ten years and never have I managed to do that before. I’m putting it down to stress. I can live without the loaf, it’s the waste of flour which is really brassing me off. Yesterday’s effort was back to normal again, thankfully.

A word about barbecues. There’s no nice way to put this… they stink. We have people living nearby who seem to love them, but it’s pretty awful if the wind’s in the wrong direction on a sunny day. It’s probably something to do with primal urges that make men want to cremate slabs of flesh in the open air… “Me strong man, me kill animal, me make fire”. Well, if that’s what it takes to make them feel manly, I can only feel sorry for the women in their lives! 

It’s always men btw, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman cooking dinner on a barbecue. They’ve more sense, obviously. Would it burst the cavemen’s bubble to point out they didn’t actually stalk and kill a woolly mammoth with their bare hands, they just went to Tesco and picked up a slab of dead cow/pig/lamb and a few sausages?

I saw this in the Guardian the other day.  Ethical omnivores, eh? What a pile of pretentious, self-indulgent BS! “I want to eat meat but I know it can’t be morally justified. Here’s an idea…! I can feel better about it and demonstrate how ethical I am by eating all the manky bits as well as the more acceptable parts – this will show ‘honour and respect’ because ‘we owe it to the animal’. I’ll then write a book, make a bit of money, preach to the sheeple and they’ll all think I’m a good person. Job done”. Dear me… that is some serious self-delusion there!

If you’re so concerned about the animal, dummy, how about not killing the poor beast in the first place? Once it’s dead does it really matter whether you eat it or sling it in the nearest bin? Either way, it’s still dead.

A decision has been taken chez nous that, from now on, this house will be a Boris-free zone. He can make whatever stupid rules he likes and if we choose to go out (highly unlikely) we’ll follow the rules but, in this house, OUR rules apply. So, people here will be free to wear masks… or not, free to have a hug… or not, free to ignore social distancing… or not; whatever they, and we, feel comfortable with.

Boris and his bloody rules can get the hell out of my home.

Jam, not Jerusalem

How lucky am I? On our way back from a walk on Thursday morning we saw our neighbour; they have a greengage tree right next to the fence dividing our gardens, “Help yourself to greengages… please!” she said, “The freezer’s full of them and the children are refusing to eat any more crumble - we’re sick of them!” Well, I didn’t need telling twice!

I am now the proud owner of some golden gorgeousness… I made a few jars of sunny-coloured jam for winter mornings when it’s cold and grey. Lovely. We gave it a trial run on some toast this morning; blimey, it was so good! Hardly surprising when the fruit went from tree to jar in under two hours… fresh or what?!

Boris gave a briefing yesterday. Clearly, he feels people haven’t been sufficiently frightened to make them kowtow – they’re starting to act sensibly and think for themselves (and that will never do!) – so he’s tweaking a few regulations and making up a few more unnecessary rules in order to get more of us to comply with his silliness.

Micromanagement by Govt has gone into overdrive. It’s like a game now; they’re just seeing how far they can push us before we reach breaking point. They’re playing us. For the love of life, will someone please make it stop? I think we need a modern-day Guy Fawkes to shake up this bunch of bloody clowns.

Weather was ridiculously hot yesterday – 34°. Ghastly. Thankfully it’s much better today – low 20s. I hate hot weather.

Behind the mask

I shopped wearing a scarf over my face for the first time today. I was almost deafened by the sound of my principles hitting the floor as I entered the shop... it did not sit well with me. Having my face covered felt completely alien and unnatural – I raced round the store like Usain Bolt, I couldn’t wait to get outside and feel fresh air again. Of course, some people might say not having to see my face is a positive improvement. I’d probably agree.

Well, it is what it is. As stated, I’ve drawn my line – shopping for anything other than food (plus essential visits to GP, dentist or hospital, obviously) is not going to happen. If it goes on for months and months and the High St dies in the meantime… so be it. I’ll manage.

Incidentally, I’m convinced we’ll have another complete lockdown this winter – it won’t be needed, but then neither was this one...

In the news, Boris is now saying overweight people all need to lose weight in order to avoid revealing quite how useless the NHS is. Well, he didn’t use those exact words but that was the general thrust of the message – once again it’s all about taking pressure off the bloody NHS. To help you with this weight loss you may be prescribed cycling (ye gods!) and he’s going to ban “junk food” advertising and BOGOF deals on “unhealthy” food.

So, what exactly is junk or unhealthy food? Good question. It’s one I pondered nearly eight years ago when I wrote this. Nothing changes, does it?  There’s no such thing as unhealthy food in my opinion, just unhealthy amounts of food. Eat whatever you like, but don’t eat as much as you like. Simple. One suggestion – maybe a fat bloke isn’t the best person to lecture others about losing weight?

Any other rules and regulations he dreams up, he can shove… sideways. None of it’s consistent or necessary, anyway – I’m not going along with any more of this crap.

Boris is clearly intelligent and I always used to think he was a decent chap, but his handling of Covid has proved otherwise. He’s treated it like a financial admin exercise but it’s so much more than that. The ill-thought-out rules have never taken people’s everyday lives or mental health into account – some poor souls will never recover and still it continues. Difficult to know where it’ll end, to be honest.

The only rule still in place which particularly affects me is the draconian and inhuman edict not to hug your family. If it was only about me, I’d never have stopped, but it isn’t… other people have to be considered; I’m ready to hug the Troops whenever they’re ready – but they have to feel comfortable with it too. As soon as my son says “Sod this, enough’s enough” I’ll be all over them like a rash!

The porridge (OK... oats) crop growing in the field has been harvested! They snuck in over the weekend while I wasn’t watching and all that’s left is a field of stubble. I never even got to go round with my bowl and spoon… Maybe next year.

Masks and marmalade

I’ve calmed down a little after the mask announcement – I’m still spitting blood but, having thought it through with a slightly cooler head, I’ve drawn a line to which I am prepared to go… but I will go NO further. 

The line: I will shop for fresh food essentials in between supermarket deliveries (grateful as I am to Sainsbury’s, we get through so much fruit, veg and salad that a delivery once a week just isn’t enough), I will not wear a mask – I will wear a scarf and I will not, under any circumstances, shop in person for anything other than food. I don't feel good about compromising my principles, I feel I'm letting myself down, but for food shopping it’s the only sensible thing to do. God... it rankles, though.

I shopped this morning for milk, bread, eggs and fresh stuff – buns may also have accidentally fallen into my trolley! I didn’t see any customers without a mask… except me, I'm proud to say! I took a few sideways looks from the masked sheeple but no-one had the balls to say anything to me. Next week I’ll wear a scarf… this week I wasn’t required to, so I didn’t. Simple.

Sickens me to see sheeple online wittering about how best to make a mask, how ‘attractive’ they can be in different colours, posting pictures of ‘me in my mask’ and being told “Oooh, nice mask”… worst  of all, being thrilled about how a mask allows them to get back to ‘normal’. Normal? Normal..?! Are you completely mad? Before Covid, did you wear a bloody mask to go and buy a pint of milk? No, of course you didn’t, you brainless lump, so how the hell is this normal?!

If High St shops are going along with this nonsense and not allowing customers in without a mask, then they have only themselves to blame if their businesses go belly up.

Boris came up with another load of drivel at the end of last week – I don’t know all the details; I ignore most of it now. Until such time as he tells me I can hug my son and grandchildren… I’m not interested. The mere fact that I have to wait for permission to do something so human, so ordinary, makes me want to weep.

News from the kitchen: Having finally managed to procure some bicarb, I made Nigella’s Marmalade Pudding Cake that I mentioned previously. It wasn’t the prettiest, as you can see, but the flavour and texture were lovely.

Anyway, looks aren’t important when it’s smothered in custard! It was very moist, orangey and spongy. I don’t think it’d work terribly well as an actual cake, although I'm willing to give it a whirl, but it was very nice as a pud – I’ll definitely make it again, maybe with some lemon marmalade that I made a few weeks ago. I halved the recipe for justthe two of us - it's not that we wouldn't eat it all, it's more the fact that we would!

We seem to have been living on plates of roast veg and griddled halloumi recently, it’s my new favourite summer meal. It’s quick and easy, plus any leftovers get made into an oven-baked frittata, which is probably my second favourite meal du jour. Win, win!

Bye bye, shopping

As expected… Boris has made it compulsory to wear masks in shops from next week. He clearly wants to keep us all under control for a bit longer. Oh well, that’s shopping off the menu for me for the foreseeable. As previously stated, I will NOT wear a mask.

I mentioned on Twitter a couple of days ago that I’d be staying at home if Boris mandated masks. Well, blimey, that was it… they went up like a rocket! I was called every name under the sun for exercising my right not to go out rather than wear a bloody mask. Apparently, I’m selfish, stupid, childish and a few other things besides… furthermore, I am personally to be held responsible for the demise of the High St simply by having the temerity to stay in my own home! Who knew I had such power?!!

I know some shops are struggling to stay afloat and I’m sure it’s hard for them but, quite frankly, I'm not interested. It’s not my fault, so don’t tell me… tell Boris; he’s the one wrecking the economy and ruining the livelihoods of decent people, not me. I’m happy to go out and spend, but not if I have to dress up like a bank robber.

There has been talk of the death of the High St for a few years now – looks like that's going to happen more quickly than anyone thought. I can’t think why he’d want it but, if that’s what Boris wants, that’s what he’ll get.

I’ve given up a hell of a lot in the name of this damn virus… I refuse to give more ground. We saw the family at the weekend… socially distanced and, yet again, no hugs. It’s hard to articulate just how much I miss hugging my son and grandchildren, how painful it is. It brings me to tears just thinking about it. Boris has forced behaviours upon us that, only six months ago, we couldn’t have imagined. Stuff your masks. Bastards.

At the start of all this, when I began rambling on here again, I was angry. I’m way past angry now – I'm a permanent seething mass of fury. It’s probably best to stay out of my way.

I really didn’t think I’d still be sitting here four months on, still talking to myself and spitting with fury.

I wonder how much longer it’ll be?

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...!

Pub's open... cheers!

July 4^th – 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.

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…

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 4^th (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.