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.