Posts tagged ‘Matt Hancock’

May 13, 2020

Year of the Plague in 2020 a far from average year – self-isolation diary. Week 8

Hello again. Week 8 has come and gone and we are as is. Short of a vaccination for Covid-19 being found that is as good as it gets.

Death statistics are still pouring out of the mouths of politicians. All very sad. So they say. Do we believe them? Not when “…and sadly blah blah hundred died…” becomes a meaningless mantra. If only there had been warnings – examples of the spread through other countries to allow our governments to be proactive and not reactive and so alleviate the necessity of the daily mantra becoming a monthly mantra soon to be a seasonal mantra. What if they had been forewarned. Oh wait, they were. They waited – and – waited – and – waited – did they arrange orders for PPE? Did they pick. And so it is necessary to recite the mantra –“sadly” “sadly” “sadly.”

Heard today that the daily test number proudly announced by Hancock or someone like Hancock but probably not Johnson because he’s a work shirker was claimed to be on 10 May 70,000 when the actual figure was around 30,000. “Sadly.” Fewer than half the entirely fictional figure issued and regurgitated by UK journalists. “Sadly.”  Not only are politicians getting younger – they’re getting more duplicitous. Possibly. And very bad at arithmetic.

Daily deep clean of parts of the house continues to the extent it smells permanently of a gigolo’s oxter. “Sadly.”

The young seedlings in the greenhouse are looking pretty good. Apart from the courgettes which are very slow to germinate. “Sadly.” The compost discs eventually reconstituted themselves back into something resembling actual compost but now I’m wondering if that’s what the courgette seeds went into. Peas are doing great. Don’t think I mentioned peas before. They’re outside most of the time, which is more than can be said for the rest of us, despite the weather changing from summer back to winter (that relates to the peas, not people.)  I won’t add a “sadly” there because I don’t mind changeable weather.

In the garden tree seedling show their usual determination and grit and succeed in germinating everywhere. If we didn’t howk them out this place would become a forest in a matter of 6 months. Ash is the worst culprit but all sorts find their way in via air currents and birds’ backsides. “Sadly.”

Beech seedlings are popping up wherever I turn. They are very distinctive and beautiful – almost frilly cotyledons. See photo – if I remember to post it. But a blooming great beech tree or several is not a good idea in a relatively small garden. “Sadly.”

No food deliveries this week but there’s one due this next weekend. Been trying to order from another supermarket and after hours and hours  and days and days of clicking on ‘book a slot’ we got one – for the very end of the month. That’s June, all but. Good grief.

About the most memorable sight on my walks has been the reappearance of a local farmer who has been away recuperating from a heart attack. He looked as pleased as punch. And quite right too. Wild flowers keep on blooming in big numbers which is delightful always. Tree blossom, too, which is a joy and last time I meant to mention the bird’s eye cherry blossom which is now nearly past – “sadly.” I’m not so fond of it as our wild genes which look spectacular against blue skies but close up the bird’s eye is bonnie enough.

Our house martins seem to have deserted the nest they began. “Sadly.” I spotted three the other day – two flew round and around a deserted hut and eventually flew in through the open doorway. Then three flew out! One flew off while two (presumably the pair) flew back in. Perhaps they are ours who’ve chosen to go elsewhere. Looks like one martin has not got a mate. “Sadly.”

Our woodpeckers are ravenous, as usual. Eating peanuts and pecking at the occasional fat ball as though there was no tomorrow. The starlings, like the martins, are still not committing to their nest. In their case that’s good because the jackdaws will have the young. “Sadly.” The pheasants that visit everyday are great at picking away at seed thrown out of feeders and the bird table by smaller birds but I wish the cock pheasant had a more pleasant voice. And it amuses me when all those poetic types who talk so fondly of the dawn chorus and how lovely it is – never mention that after the blackbird strikes the first chord the coarse rasp of a cock pheasant comes next. “Sadly.”

Also sad was the poor bloodied body of a large toad on the road. The road beside us is crossed by hundreds of toads (used to be, fewer now) every season to lay their eggs and then they return across the same road. Every year they are killed under the wheels of motor vehicles. With this year’s lockdown the road has been much quieter – hurrah – and hopefully, fewer wee toads will have made the dangerous crossing unharmed. But not that poor wee soul we found – “sadly.”

Finished MacDougall Hay’s Gillespie. A good read. Impressive at times but it descended into melodrama towards the end. Tragedy for all concerned. “Sadly.”

Still no time to update you on our friends back from New Zealand. Maybe next time. Hopefully.

Stay safe.