It's a madhouse

Is it just me, or has this entire country gone stark, staring, mad?

Our politicians are crap, the NHS is a bad joke, the combined forces of the Metropolitan police can't seem to stop a few unwashed idiots from blocking the M25, trying to refuel the car is a game of hunt the petrol, I'm told daily that supermarket shelves are empty and... the esteemed leader of Her Majesty's Opposition Party has stated this week that it's not right to say that only women have a cervix! Speaking as a woman... I've got news for him!

All this... and I haven't even mentioned Covid yet, which is pretty much dying on its feet as viruses do. The Govt won't let it lie down, though, they're still talking it up in order to frighten the public into compliance. The vaccine passport issue rumbles on; will they, won't they? My money's on them being in place if you want to go anywhere by next summer.

I feel I'm one of the few sane ones living in a madhouse.

It's enough to drive anyone to drink. Actually, it's a hell of a good job I don't drink - I probably wouldn't have been sober for much of the last 18 months. 

As a follow-up to the empty supermarket shelves stories, I received my usual weekly delivery from Waitrose this morning - I received everything I'd ordered. Shelves not quite as empty as we're told, then? Surely, the media couldn't be making a story out of nothing?

On the subject of food, I booked my Christmas delivery slot this morning! Waitrose, god bless 'em, gave me priority as a thank you for being a loyal customer. Let's hope we don't have a repeat of last year - the Christmas that never was. I'm warning you, Boris.

The Doctor won't see you now...

8 days ago... 

Rang GPs' surgery in hope of a telephone appt (don't even think about a face-to-face) with Dr Z. Not a chance: "We're very busy... blah, blah. Ring again on Friday".

Rang on Friday: "We're very busy...blah, blah. Ring again next Wednesday".

9.15 this morning... on hold for 17 sodding minutes to be told again they're very busy, short staffed, under pressure and blah, blah, bloody blah.

The receptionist/rottweiler came out with every lame excuse she could find for why there is no hope of me speaking to Dr Z this side of the next millennium.

Wtf? Wtaf...?

This is our wonderful NHS.

I had to go for a walk round the garden to avoid slashing my wrists or killing Mr S-V, who just happened to be the nearest person available. 

20 minutes later... Dr Z rang me.

Don't ask.

Struggling on

Some days/weeks are harder than others. It seems that 18 months of Covid crap has sucked the life out of me.

It's never-ending.

We all need a little boost

As expected, Covid booster jabs will be dished out to over-50s as soon as the NHS can get itself motivated to do so. I wonder if the boosters will then need boosters and those boosters will need yet more boosters... it could go on forever!

Just to add to the fun, Whitty and his little band of fools have recommended all children aged 12-15 be offered one dose of the Pfizer jab. I can't think what's possessed them to approve this when the JCVI did not recommend it. Obviously there is no long-term safety data, nor will there be for some few years yet, but somehow Whitty thinks it's ok to dish it out to our children and grandchildren?

Furthermore, children can override their parents' wishes, either to have the jab or not, so long as they are deemed competent to make the choice... the Gillick Competence. 

Under 16s can't vote, can't legally drink alcohol or smoke, can't join the Army or get married... but they can go against their parents' wishes and have a medical procedure, the long-term implications of which are still unknown? The people taking this responsibility out of parents' hands are insane.

I couldn't be more disgusted at the whole debacle - it's utterly despicable. I could weep.

All of this is to prevent our "wonderful" NHS being overwhelmed. Too late, I'm afraid. The NHS is on its last legs, it has been for years, it's an absolute shambles - bit late now to worry about it being overwhelmed. 

Incidentally, Boris is still havering about vaccine passports and the return of compulsory masks; which probably means they'll be with us sometime soon.

The weather is mirroring my mood - it's been pouring with rain since 7am. The gutters are overflowing, the heating's on and the lights indoors have been on all day. Bye bye summer.

Autumn leaves... and tennis

Well, it looks like the Govt has backed away from vaccine passports... for now. I don't believe they won't still bring them in, but they clearly feel the public needs to be softened up a bit more yet before they'll be accepted. I suspect another lockdown will do the trick... they'll say the only way to avoid more lockdowns is to bring in the passports. A dejected and demoralised public will say "Yes, we'll do anything to get us out of this". Job done.

It's quite obvious that they're trying to flog a very dead horse. No-one, apart from the Govt, seems much interested in Covid any more. 

People are fatigued and sick of the constant doom and gloom peddled by those with the power to do so. Inertia and boredom has set in, as it does with most things, so MPs keep popping up and changing the rules to keep people on their toes. Just go away, you lying shysters... we can see right through you.

Summer seems to be drawing to a close - the brief flurry of warm sunny days we've had recently has subsided into cooler greyness. The nights are drawing in and we're into the season of misty mornings, we already have a few fallen leaves in the garden and seed pods are dropping off the copper beech; I can feel winter just around the corner. We'll soon be back to stews, casseroles and soup. Lovely stuff!

Tennis. I love it, as I've said before, but I've rarely watched women play since Steffi Graf retired. Last night we sat down to watch the new darling of the courts... an 18-year-old British qualifier in only her second Grand slam. 

Emma Raducanu. WOW! What else can I say?

I've been a tennis fan since I was a child, I used to run home from primary school to watch Wimbledon (in black and white!) on TV. I thought I'd seen it all but never have I seen anything like last night's match. I was yelling at the TV like a woman possessed!

Emma was astonishing; confident, gutsy, and absolutely fearless. It was a joy to watch her win and it'll be interesting to see how she progresses from this. I can't wait.

Jabs and jam

Summer's back! Well, for a little while, at least. After nearly a fortnight of grey days with a cold northerly wind, we have an almost balmy few days to look forward to. Actually sat in the garden for a while earlier on. Hilarious, then, that John Lewis and Marks and Sparks have updated their websites to include Christmas items! Seems a little early to me...

I wonder if we'll be 'allowed' to have a normal Christmas this year? After l2020, when Boris pulled the plug at the eleventh hour, I wouldn't put anything past him.

I was thrilled to see the JCVI has said it doesn't recommend giving 12-15 year-olds the jab, but my relief was very short-lived when I discovered the final say has been handed over to chief doom-monger Whitty and his mates, who are almost certain to approve it. I desperately hope they don't, but I fear they will. I'm disgusted that it's even being considered for children...  actually I'm disgusted that it's been considered for anybody, but that's another story. 

It also appears that 'vaccine passports' will now be needed for large venues. I will, quite clearly, not be having a vaccine passport for obvious reasons. I'd be willing to bet that 'large' venues will soon become 'medium' venues and, shortly afterwards, 'all' venues. Give it time... I know the way their twisted minds work.

When the hell does this insanity end?

I spent a few hours in the tranquillity of the kitchen last week making jam. I say tranquil but I find jam-making really nerve-wracking - I'm always certain it'll never set and somehow it always does! We picked Victoria plums from the garden and I'd bought some greengages from M&S. After adding these two to the strawberry jam I made in July, the preserves cupboard is looking very healthy.

Next week... curried fruit chutney, made with the last of the plums, a stray cooking apple, a few woolly apricots (why can we never get decent apricots in the UK?) and our own onions from the garden. Might make some onion marmalade as well, if my dodgy ankles will keep me upright. We'll see.