They're all mad

I've come to the conclusion that Boris and all his hangers-on are clinically insane.

There they stood in their televised briefing last evening, serious faces on, telling us we've done so well and we've all been good boys and girls, but it's still a very serious situation which is why we can only meet up with five others outside over Easter and we must keep thinking Hands, Face, Space and Fresh Air. We must have the vaccine and continue to be very careful.

I wish he'd stop talking to us like we're a class of four-year-olds.

He's lost his mind... either that or he thinks we've lost ours. I'd have to have completely lost my mind before I'd believe any of that crap.

It's just one lie after another, all designed to keep us compliant and doing as we're told. Yesterday's Covid death figure for the entire country was 22... yep, 22. None at all in London. So because of those 22 deaths we are still not allowed to start getting back to any sort of normal life. How low do they want the figures to go? People die - yes, I'm well aware that every death is very sad, it's only last month that I went to a double funeral - but we can't keep living in this dystopian nightmare forever.

I think I'm just too old for all this - I don't like liars (I had far too much of that during my youth) and I've never been good at being told what to do. I'm too long in the tooth to start now.

I feel increasingly detached from the world outside these four walls. It's probably age... mind you, it doesn't help that the people in charge aren't fit to sweep the Westminster car park.

I give up with them. Cretins.

Thankfully the weather is getting better and it seems the worst of the winter is behind us now. Mr S-V has cut the grass and I gave the garden furniture its once yearly scrub down.

Roll on summer, we're ready for you!

Masks... again

I went to our GPs' surgery yesterday to pick up our usual prescriptions from the pharmacy window. It was a lovely, typical spring day - bright sunshine and a stiff breeze. I joined a socially-distanced queue snaking along the front of the building (no-one allowed inside unless you've been "invited"). I thought it was a surgery not a cocktail party, but be that as it may...  

Thing is, I was the only person in the queue not wearing a mask. The only one. What's the matter with them? Has Covid affected everyone's brain? Are masks a fashion item now?

As we drove through the village the mask situation got worse; we saw a woman wearing one to walk her dog (the dog wasn't masked, although nothing would surprise me any more!) and, as it was the end of the school day, a parade of teenage children walked by - most of them also masked up.

I still can't get my head round it. Why are people so willing to surrender to this idiocy? I will never accept that this is normal behaviour.

A clue to their mindset came when I saw this headline on the BBC today. The media as a whole has been loving the Covid saga - they keep the fear narrative going on a daily basis. People are bombarded with propaganda but does that mean they give up thinking for themselves? Certainly seems to be the case.

The lotties are waking up from the winter; plenty of digging and rotavating going on and we watched a tractor going back and forth in the field that butts onto the lotties this morning. Hard to believe it's twelve months since we were watching all this just as Covid was kicking off last year, but they say time flies when you're enjoying yourself! Chance would be a fine thing - I've almost forgotten what it's like to enjoy myself.

Not long now and we'll need to start our own planting in the garden. Onions first, I think, closely followed by beetroot seeds. And off we go again...

365 Days

Happy Anniversary. Ok, maybe not 'happy' but it's definitely an anniversary.

A year since the country went into full lockdown. 

A year since we've been able to behave in any way that's normal. 

A year since our lives changed.

Life has divided into "Before Covid" and "Since Covid".

It's hard to believe we're not really much further forward than we were in March 2020. Despite the so-called vaccine we still have to behave in a way in that's totally alien... wear a mask, use sanitiser if you go outside, maintain social distancing, work from home, don't see your friends or family, don't go to a gym, restaurant or pub, don't go to a hairdresser or beauty salon and don't expect to see a GP if you're ill (you might be able to have a phone call). In short, don't do anything you once thought of as normal.  

I don't know what the Govt agenda is, I'm not sure they know either, but it sure as hell stopped being about a virus a long time ago. It's now all about power and control... it seems as though they are actually trying to sabotage and destroy all the best parts of our lives. What's their aim? God knows.

The propaganda and manipulation is relentless; a disappointingly large number of people are still lapping it up, believing every word, going along with it all. I can't do that. Admittedly, it'd probably be easier for me if I could, but I cannot and will not hand my entire life over to jumped-up Civil Servants who will graciously (or, more likely, grudgingly) give me a very short list of things I'm still allowed to do.

So I sit here and moan while my mental health slowly deteriorates. Believe me, if it was possible to die of resentment, anger and anxiety, I'd already be long gone.

There's a minute's silence at midday apparently, as part of "a national day of reflection". The only thing I'll be reflecting on is the monumental cock-up our politicians have made of handling a virus.

I came across this Shakespeare quote the other day - it seemed to perfectly fit every single one of the idiots elected to Parliament...

"A most notable coward; an infinite and endless liar; an hourly promise breaker; the owner of no one good quality."

All's Well That Ends Well (Act 3, Scene 6)

Now, that is something to reflect on.

One year on

Six months ago I wondered if I'd be sitting here in six months time, still talking/typing to myself. Well, here I am.

Monday, March 16th 2020. The last time we went shopping together.

That evening Boris told all over-70s to stay at home for their own safety because of Covid. A week later he locked down the entire country... three weeks of staying at home to "Flatten the curve" and "Protect the NHS", he said. 

He lied. He and his Govt have lied repeatedly ever since.

A year later, I'm still trapped, still moaning on here for want of something better to do, still desperately missing my family and watching my shrunken life slowly pass by. Some days are better than others... but mostly it's just a case of trudging on, one foot in front of the other, to get through it. Today is particularly difficult, knowing how much of our normal life we've missed for an entire year.

We look for high points and moments of enjoyment where we can... walks, a few treats, the garden, bits of cooking... but, my god, it's getting harder. It's said you can get used to anything if you try; well, I've tried, but I'm definitely not getting used to this.

It's insane what they've done to this country and its people, an act of complete madness from which I doubt we'll fully recover - not in my lifetime, anyway.

We're in this state, not because of a virus but because of the mishandling of it by the Govt. The virus isn't the issue - they're drunk on the power of being able to tell people exactly what they can and can't do; it's gone to their heads. There's no longer any rhyme or reason to it... I'm not sure there ever was; it's a power play, seeing how far they can push us. Just a massive experiment.

Not long now and I'll be getting measured for a straitjacket - could I have one in black to match my mood?

In the meantime, the cooker needs a good clean and I must put some washing on. Mr S-V is painting the banisters. Later, cauliflower cheese with glazed carrots and peas for dinner. 

Life in the fast lane...

Happy Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day certainly, but 'Happy'...? No.

This is the second one where I've not been 'allowed' to see my son and grandchildren. 

The visceral hatred I feel for politicians is now a constant. I will never be able to think back on this past year with anything but deep sadness and an all-consuming fury about everything they've forced us to miss.

Almost a year

It's a year next week since everyone over 70 was told to stay at home for the foreseeable because of a virus. A week later the entire country went into lockdown for three weeks "to flatten the curve". Three weeks.

And yet here I sit, best part of a year on. Older, greyer and more anxious than ever, still wittering to myself about nothing in particular while those in charge (allegedly) carry on making a balls of it. A year on.

Some of the comments I've read online recently about the Covid 'vaccine' have got me flummoxed. Here's the thing... if you've had the 'vaccine' why would you complain about others not keeping to the current rules?  "People are out without wearing masks", "On a sunny day our local park is full of Covidiots" and "Social distancing seems non-existent now".

Ok. Let me get this straight; you've been 'vaccinated', meaning they're no threat to you and you're no threat to them... so what's the problem? It makes no sense. Unless, of course, it's not actually a vaccine and it's offering you no real protection?

Answers on a postcard please - I'm clearly missing something crucial in their logic.

Oh, I see Dr Death is in the news again warning of a "Third wave" of Covid sometime later this year. I think he's just afraid of losing the importance and status that Covid has given him - he's been getting off on this for the past year, he's not giving it up without a fight. He'll have us two metres apart and wearing masks forever if he has his way. Boris needs to slap him down.

Media is heaving today with the Meghan and Harry nonsense... It was never going to go well, was it? A weak, immature, pampered prince being worked from behind by a media-hungry narcissist who thought she was bigger than the Royal Family. You were wrong there, luv! But it has knocked Covid down the news pecking order, so I suppose the two mouthy ingrates do have some sort of use. Quite refreshing to see something else being talked about even if it is those two numpties...

I do feel sorry for the Queen, though. She really doesn't need all this while the Duke of Edinburgh is still in hospital. 

In the spirit of finding good news wherever I can... West Ham won last night and are now fifth in the table!

Kitchen comforts

After the stress of last Friday and the days leading up to it, comfort food has been needed this week. I fancied a curry and Mr S-V requested a sponge pudding - so we had both! 

The chickpea, lentil and veg curry really hit the spot and made enough to freeze for another two meals. Bonus! Searching for a pudding recipe was complicated by not having easy access to shops at the moment; it had to be made from whatever was in the pantry. Step forward this recipe from Dan Lepard. 

Marmalade and Carrot Puddings

I don't possess any dariole moulds (who does?) and I only had two eggs until the next Waitrose delivery but, having searched high and low for the recipe, I was determined to make it, so six individual basins were called into action. 

I had to do a bit of fiddling with the ingredients to fit the eggs available, meaning I made slightly less mixture than the original recipe. It still gave six decent sized puds - two of which we had with a large amount of custard (I bloody love custard). They were light and moist and they didn't even stick to the tins! I'll definitely make these again, but not until we've eaten the other four that are stashed in the freezer.

We had the easiest dinner on earth last night, made with penne, semi-dried tomatoes, mushrooms and Boursin. It took about 20 minutes and tasted great. I'm not ashamed to say we had sausages, chips and baked beans on Wednesday. Not exactly a culinary tour de force but it was just what we needed.

I've also made a batch of cheese and onion quiches this week and some spiced apple compote to have with porridge. I've been fiddling about in the kitchen a bit more recently than I have for some while - it's just about the only way to escape from Covid and all the crap surrounding it. A little bit of culinary normality in an increasingly abnormal world is about the best I can do right now. I'm doubting we'll ever feel normal again after all this.

That weasel, Hancock, is on TV again. If he worked anywhere other than in Government, he'd have been kicked out long ago, liar that he is. I'm not a violent woman but, by god, his face is slappable.

The Duke of Edinburgh is thankfully still with us (keep going, Sir) but sadly, his brainless, entitled grandson and his social-climbing, gold-digging wife feel this is just the right time to give a carefully staged interview and have a dig at the Royal Family. Nice way for Harry to show some gratitude for all they've given him... still, I suppose it keeps Covid out of the headlines, even if only briefly.