Ying Tong Diddle I Po!

 Thursday. 1.20 p.m. A bright and sunny day. I went to the Oaktree Centre and discovered that a theatre company is putting on a show, 'Songs From The Shows' or a similar title. After the Bible study, we set up chairs in the main hall for the show this evening.

6.15 p.m. Oh, what fun! I was eating my evening meal, as I normally do at this time of day, with the game show 'Pointless' on television, when the merry sound of the fire alarm started up. My immediate reaction was to close the door from the lounge into the hall and then put some loud music on my television set, playing through the soundbar. Fortunately, it didn't last for very long, because I heard a fire engine arriving and then there was silence! I think someone had burnt their toast or forget to remove something from their oven. I think if there was a charge for this, then there might be fewer of these incidents.

Friday. 5.00 a.m. Up out of bed and taking Alfie out as usual. It's a bit windy and overcast. I just hope the wind settles, and the sun comes out. Well, as the song says, 'The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow.' 

12.05 p.m. I've been out with the Hohem gimbal, walking along the Grand Union Canal near Peartree Bridge. It was such a fine morning, with the sun out and a slight breeze, it seemed the perfect opportunity to have a go at some filming (actually videoing, but I'm being pedantic.). I was disappointed that there were no ducks, but I did see a heron. I must get the focus sorted out, as it was a bit off. Not a problem. I was also hoping to see some narrow boats, but none of them either. Perhaps I should start the walk next time nearer to where the Red Way comes out of Eaglestone, near the dinosaur sculpture and the patch goes towards Woughton-On-The-Green. I have already viewed the results on my iPad. I'm getting the hang of using the gimbal. It seems a good idea to attempt to keep the horizon in approximately the same position in each shot.

Saturday, 5.30 a.m. Former Prime Minister Boris Johnson has resigned. He says he was forced out, over the so-called 'Partygate' investigation. Well, all I can say, in all honesty, he had to go. Biggest liar of the century. Couldn't tell the truth if it came out and bit him. If you can't trust your leader, then, who on earth can you trust? It's the same with former U.S. President, Donald Trump. He lied just to get where he wanted to and then left office, taking important and highly secret and dangerous documents with him, which were found in his home in Florida. Just because he has money, he thinks he can pay off people and get away with it.

There is a health warning out today, suggesting that there will be a heatwave across Britain, with the possibility of temperatures reaching somewhere in the region of 30ºC. Those with a health problem, such I     have with my heart, are warned to keep out of the sun and remain indoors. I think sun hats and shorts should be worn outdoors. So, it's likely to be warm and humid.

10.15 a.m. I've been to Sainsbury's to buy a few items. Not a 'big shop.' It's relatively quiet early on a Saturday, so it's obviously the best time to go.

It's getting warm. I got home and then took Alfie out. I don't think he appreciates the warm weather. He doesn't appreciate cold, either. I think he's a bit like me regarding weather, we both like it mid-way, I suppose you might say 'temperate.' The digital thermometer currently reads 24º. I have windows open to create a through draught. 

Another Day Older!

Saturday. 7.30 a.m. Well, it's my birthday today! I'm not going to be in the flat all day. I'm going to Aylesbury, to an archaeology conference on the finds which have been made during the building of the HS2 rail line (High-Speed 2.) It should be fascinating. I just have to find the place where it's being held, as I don't know Aylesbury all that well. I shall put the postcode in my satnav and trust it will get me there.

Sunday. 1.50 p.m. An almighty rainstorm this morning, about the time I was due to leave in my car to get to church to set up chairs for the service at 10.30. I got somewhat soaked as I walked to the car, on a few yards, but the downpour left me wet, so I had to dry my glasses on a tissue before driving off.

I should have mentioned it yesterday. That is my trip to Aylesbury, to attend the archaeology conference which was held at The Gatehouse, which is part of Aylesbury Vale District Council. The actual conference was in what is called The Oculus. This is a stunning circular space which has wooden baffles on the walls to help deaden the sound. At first, when I walked in, I thought they were either some form of seating, folded up or even shelving of some sort. But it was obvious that they weren't for that use. The seats are obviously moveable and can be arranged in any sort of configuration, but yesterday they were facing the stage, such as it is (not in what I'd call a theatrical stage at any rate.) Although, saying that, I think it could well be used for theatre, and in particular, theatre-in-the-round, if the seating was reconfigured. 

It was actually easy enough finding The Oculus. I had a look at Google Maps, so I had a good idea of where it was. Also, my SatNav came in handy. I have to admit, once I had found the place where the conference was, I had to go round the block once and then went into the car park which was right next to The Gatehouse. Mind you, I made sure you didn't have to pay and asked whether the gate would be locked. It wasn't, but, knowing my luck, there was the possibility of being locked in or fined for not having the appropriate ticket attached to my car.

The archaeologists who have been employed to do the work on the various sites along the path of the HS2 rail line have now completed their work, they have all dispersed and, by now, are probably working on other projects, so this was the final chance to learn what had been found. We heard about farms and some really fine houses which have now been demolished as well as a church at Stoke Mandeville (St Mary's) which, after examination, showed that there had been activity there going back to the Iron Age, through the Roman period and up until the time the church was constructed and then demolished. There were a few other sites mentioned, one at Southam, which I drove through only the other month when I came home from Kenilworth Castle as well as another site fairly close to where we were at the conference, Fleet Marston, which is on the A41, the road we used to drive along on our way to Waddesdon Manor.

Monday. 9.50 p.m. I have been having problems with opening the door which leads out of Dexter House onto the path on Strudwick Drive. There has been a problem with it on another occasion. You have to push on the catch and it won't release the door. So, because our S.H.O., Barbara, isn't here today, I have rung Mears to inform them of the problem. As this would be an exit if there was a fire, it must work.

Yesterday evening we had an almighty thunderstorm and torrential rain. I heard the crash of thunder but wasn't sure whether it was actually thunder. There were noises of fireworks being let off also, so I did wonder if it was that, but no doubt the rain put those idiots off. Why do people think it's acceptable to let off fireworks like that? In a public space. It's not even November yet. Apart from anything else, it's a waste of money. There is a sign on Oldbrook Green that says, the use of fireworks on the green is not permitted, but, like dog fouling, what's the point of all these notices and by-laws, if they aren't policed?

I'm glad that Boris Johnson has withdrawn from the election (or whatever the process to elect a new Conservative leader and Prime Minister is called). I can't imagine how he thought he could just walk back into Number 10 as if nothing had happened, but now the field is clear for Rishi Sunak to take the pole position and get the keys to Number 10. No doubt there will be some sort of announcement regarding all this around 2 p.m.

2.15 p.m. It has just been announced that Rishi Sunak has been announced as Conservative leader and, hence, Prime Minister. Boris thingy withdrew and the only other remaining candidate, Penny Mordaunt' withdrew from the election just before 2 o'clock.

Repeat of Leadership Race

Friday 8.00 a.m. I didn't wake up until 7.25, so, as you can see, it's barely thirty minutes later I'm writing this. I suppose it's good in some ways, but I had to get my washing in as usual, although it went in somewhat earlier because I have someone telephoning me at 9.30, and I will have to have the dried washing back in the flat before that. It has been a bit of a marathon and attempting to get my head straight, as you can imagine (or, perhaps you can't!). What I mean is, when you've woken up, your head is often swimming. Attempting to think properly, having woken up. Well, it was a bit of an effort, but I made it.

Boris Johnson has apparently put himself forward as returning as Prime Minister. Please, don't go there. We really can't have that idiot back in 10 Downing Street. He was thrown out by his own MPs over the 'so-called' 'Partygate' scandal and an enquiry regarding the fact that he possibly lied to Parliament.  It hardly seems possible that we've had three Prime Ministers within three years!

12.20 p.m. I have been to Sainsbury's, initially to go to Lloyd's pharmacy within the store to pick up a repeat prescription and to buy one or two items. I have been eating easy peelers, and small, juicy oranges, from the time when the first covid-19 lockdown was announced in March 2020 and haven't stopped eating at least three per day. I think the vitamin C which they contain has helped boost my immune system and prevent catching the infamous virus. I have more recently started taking a liquid supplement called Vitabiotics Feroglobin, which has iron, ginseng and other ingredients in it, basically to help counteract tiredness. It tastes quite pleasant, with an orange flavour, and it's easy to swallow. Also, at the recommendation of my doctor, I take vitamin D tablets.

Before going to Sainsbury's, I went to the ESSO fuel station in Childs Way to top up the car with diesel. As I'm driving to Aylesbury tomorrow morning, I thought it might be advisable to put more fuel in the car, even though the fuel level was reasonably healthy. I also get Nectar points there, so that was an incentive. But then, in an attempt to get to Sainsbury's, I had to contend with some of the grid roads being shut off for road resurfacing and by the time I got to the traffic lights near the store, there was a long queue of cars and they took a great deal of time to change. I may have mentioned this before in these posts, but some of the traffic lights seem to take an inordinately long time to change.

It's A Lovely Day Today!

Saturday. 9.50 a.m. I've been constructing a bookshelf, which I bought on Amazon. I ordered it earlier in the week and was expecting it to arrive next week, probably Wednesday or Thursday. I got back from the doctor's appointment yesterday and there was this large parcel left outside my front door, so I left it unopened until around 7.30 this morning and have been working on putting it together. It is now finished and it's in the kitchen, but it will eventually be put in my walk-in cupboard, which will then contain all the cooking ingredients which are still awaiting a home since before the kitchen was ungraded.

12.35 p.m.  Amoxicillin is making me feel very sleepy. I was told to stop taking the Piriton, which I have done, and the remainder of the packet is now stored in my medication drawer. Well, I presume it's the new medication making me sleepy.

So, we have a new Prime Minister in Liz Truss. Well, I use the term 'Prime Minister' lightly. She's only been in office barely a month, and it seems the wheels are falling off the wagon. She's made more U-turns than a learner driver in a cul-de-sac. Seems likely she's going to have the shortest Premiership in history. It can't be long before there's a vote of no confidence, and we have a General Election. If you thought Boris Johnson was a disaster as PM, then Trussy takes the biscuit. She has the authority of an inept primary school teacher who can't get her class to behave. If she is forced out, which seems likely, does it mean we'll have to go through the ridiculous circus which is the Tory party system of voting for it's leader, which took around two months last time. Who would replace her? There can't be many candidates left.

A great deal seems to have happened in only a few days, but, as someone said so succinctly, 'A week is a long time in politics.' How true. Apparently attributed to Harold Wilson, former Labour Prime Minister.

Kwasi Kwarteng must have had the shortest time in office as Chancellor of The Exchequer and is now replaced by Jeremy Hunt. The contents of the disastrous 'mini budget' have been more or less totally replaced by new tax rates and goodness knows what else. They should install and revolving door to Number 11 Downing Street. How many Chancellors have we had in the last year? 

It seems the Conservative Party has been responsible for several disasters. So many splits within it's membership regarding the EU ('Euro Sceptics, I think the term is.) which led to the craziness of Brexit,  and now splits regarding the former Chancellor's 'Mini Budget' is likely to bring the whole house of cards tumbling down. Meanwhile, we have had two years of lockdowns due to the COVID-19 pandemic and now a war in Ukraine. Has nobody thought that closing down the economy for two years and paying people to sit at home doing nothing, would lead to soaring inflation, which is exactly what we have at the moment? Then, attempting to get people to go back to work, usually those in offices, when they've been told to 'stay at home and protect the N.H.S., and using scare tactics to prevent people from meeting up, and not understanding that you can't expect things to return to any sort of normal when people have been filled with this sort of stuff.

Monday. 8.05 a.m. My cough is certainly showing signs of disappearing. The medication must be working. 

4.45 p.m. I've done a considerable amount more writing. What I have created has already been word processed and there is far more. Things in that department are going surprisingly well.

New Prime Minister

Monday. 6.45 a.m. I awoke in the night to the distant sound of thunder. At first I wasn't entirely sure whether it was thunder, but then it broke and there was a torrential rainfall storm. It seemed to go on for a while, but then it came to an end. When I went out with Alfie around 6 a.m. there was virtually no sign of any rain. The ground looked dry, although the air was heavy with moisture.

Tuesday. 6.35 a.m. It's a good deal cooler this morning. I am waking later and later each day.

So, Liz Truss had been selected as Britain's new Prime Minister, replacing Boris Johnson. She will be going to Balmoral to see The Queen and officially transfer power between the two leaders. As I write this, I have BBC Breakfast on television, and they are reporting from Downing Street as Boris Johnson will come out and give his final speech as Prime Minister. 

9.30 a.m. Boris Johnson's speech was short and sweet, and as usual, there was a certain amount of levity in it. I know he made many mistakes and told a few lies (well, to be honest, more than a few, but don't all politicians bend the truth?) All his MPs stood on the pavement to listen to him, and then he and his wife, Carrie, drove off in a Range Rover. I can't think where, but if he and Liz Truss have to go to Balmoral, which is somewhere to the north. in the depths of Scotland and close to Aberdeen, they would need to leave soon as I imagine it would take seven or eight hours by car and probably less if they went by train. Possibly a private plane? Well, the Queen is head of state and she can choose where they meet, for Boris to resign and Liz Trust to get the keys to Number 10. Usually, this takes place at Buckingham Palace, but her majesty didn't intend to return to London, to break her holiday. Well, she isn't in the best of health and, considering her great age, late 90s, who can blame her?

Cincinnatus was mentioned in Boris's speech. I had to do a Google search, to discover he was a Roman statesman. It passed me by so quickly, but unless you have a grounding in the classics (which Boris obviously does, but I don't.) it would take the likes of Mary Beard to explain more about this Roman figure.

1.30 p.m. I took Alfie to The Groom Room within Pets At Home in Bletchley for his 11.30 appointment. He is now home and looks a good deal neater than he was when he went in. His nails are trimmed, his teeth brushed, his face is tidy, and you can see his eyes properly.

I had to fill in 90 minutes whilst Alfie was being groomed. I had a salad roll, Danish pastry and tea in Greggs, which is a few doors along from Pets At Home. Then, a browse in T.K. Maax. There's always lots to see there, but I didn't buy anything, but I was tempted. I looked in Sports Direct and have seen a couple of pairs of trainers which I am determined to buy, which have leather uppers and look quite smart compared with other styles of trainers and at a reasonable price.

Liz Truss came back from Balmoral where she had met the Queen to be officially installed as Prime Minister. It made me think, surely she would have had to travel all the way to the north of Scotland. How would she get there? It couldn't possibly be by car or train, because she was expected back in Downing Street to give a speech to the nation. It transpired that she had gone by private jet. The plane came back and landed at RAF Northolt and then she had a drive into central London as part of a convoy of what would have been security people. Then the weather changed, it began to rain, and I was somewhat amused to see the podium which was put out in front of Number 10 by staff and, as the rain fell, the microphones on it were covered with a black bin bag. The rain became heavier and the podium was moved indoors and it wasn't clear where Liz Truss's speech would be given. Indoors? In the room where all those press conferences were given by Boris Johnson during the pandemic? Then the rain came to an end and the podium came back out! 

We saw the convoy of vehicles driving through the streets as it approached Downing Street and it eventually arrived outside Number 10 Liz Trust got out of the Range Rover she had travelled in and immediately went to the podium to give her address. To me, it seemed amazing that she arrived in Downing Street and was delivering that address within minutes of arriving.

Wheels Came Off The Bus

Saturday. 7.30 a.m. So, the wheels did actually come off the bus with Boris Johnson's resignation. The big question I have is, did he jump, or was he pushed? I think he was totally deluded if he thought he could remain as Prime Minister, considering what has been going on regarding 'so-called' 'Partygate' and the goings-on regarding Chris Pincher (I won't go into details on THAT.) 

This morning I have now moved the unit which had my microwave on it into the lounge. A bit of effort was required to do this, rather like a big game of Tetris. One thing moves, another thing goes into the space created, and then another bit of furniture is moved in. It has taken a considerable amount of thought and effort to achieve this. A bit like when I worked in stage management, working out how scene changes would be achieved, and often in a very short space of time. The problem is, now there's more furniture than the room can really take. It's going to be a bit of a squeeze, which is something of an exaggeration, but I will have to cope until the work in the kitchen is completed. 

12.50 p.m. I now have china and other kitchen items stored in the unit, which I moved from the kitchen (it was opposite the oven. I was hoping I might have got a new unit in that space, and, as there are what must have been screw holes in the wall above, I assume at one time there was a wall unit, but unfortunately I won't get this, as they are only replacing 'old for new.' Shame, but it's just as well I have this unit, which came from Amazon. 

I went into the main Milton Keynes shopping centre around 9.30. I just needed a break from the flat and all the shifting of stuff. I had intended to buy a magazine I have had on occasion, called 'Current Archaeology.' But W.H.Smith, from where I have managed to buy it before, have seen fit to rearrange their magazine section and the magazine doesn't appear to be there. Just very annoying. I think it might be worthwhile having a subscription and, as a result, having each monthly edition delivered, the same way I have two other magazines, 'BBC History Magazine' and 'History Today'.

The mention of those two magazines makes me think about how they are delivered, by the Royal Mail. But there is a slight problem. Well, not actually a problem. You may recall all the flats within Dexter House had their front doors replaced. But the letter box in each of these doors has a flap inside, a sort of curved metal buffer if you like (I can't think of a better way to describe it.) It may be fine if ordinary letters are inserted through the letter box, but with this metal contraption, anything larger, for example, a magazine, will get mangled. Not such a clever device. Meant, one supposes, to prevent smoke from getting into the flat should there be a fire. But nobody tested these things to find out how they would prevent larger items from being put through the letter box. 

Sunday. 5.30 a.m. Another warm and still morning. 

12.35 p.m. I didn't go to church this morning, but watched the service online, via Facebook. 

Currently, the temperature, according to my digital thermometer, is 82ºF. Just quietly roasting, but does it matter? Seems not. I have attempted to get this reduced, but no one will listen. Crazy.

5.00 p.m. Alfie has been for a second visit to the family who is, hopefully, going to look after him when I go to visit Worcester. He seems to be settling down and enjoying being with them. We will have one more session and then let's see what happens next.

Monday. 6.45 a.m. So, this is it! All the waiting, all the frustration, the screaming, the shouting, the stamping of little feet. What am I referring to? Why, of course, the runners and riders in the race to select the replacement for Prime Minister and leader of the Conservative Party after the resignation of Boris Johnson. It makes me laugh when you see the two-faced behaviour of these MPs, one minute, all smiles and patting each other on the back, and, no sooner as any of them come forward as candidates, they're stabbing each other in the back (metaphorically, of course!) Rather like something out of a Shakespeare drama, such as 'Julius Caesar.' More like the television series (which I worked on, the BBC version, that is.) 'House of Cards.'

The last of the things have been moved out of the kitchen, and here I am, ready for the workmen to arrive to refurbish my kitchen. It's a bit of a squeeze in my lounge, with more than enough extra bits of furniture, but if it means I get a new, improved kitchen, then I don't mind.

8.25 a.m. Two workmen have come to start breaking up the units in the kitchen. I am going to have a temporary sink so at least I can wash up and make a cup of tea. Temporary that is, until the brand, spanking new sink unit is installed. (Intend to post each step of the journey from old to new kitchen on here. I am photographing it as well.)

Wheels Coming Off The Bus

Wednesday. 7.40 a.m. A bright and sunny morning. I have already managed to clear out another cupboard! So, the whole clearing-of-the-kitchen is going well.

3.15 p.m. Alfie has been invited back by the family he met last Sunday. I have to say that I'm really pleased as it shows that he can settle down if given a chance. So, he has his own fan club! Also, it means I     can likely go to Worcester without him and have some time with Chloe and her family.

Thursday. 6.30 a.m. It looks like Boris Johnson will soon be forced to resign as Prime Minister.  The wheels are falling off the bus, as they say. 

12.40 p.m. I've been to help set up the Acorns playgroup at the Oaktree Centre this morning. As I wrote this, I have come home and I'm watching BBC 1, with a live report from outside Number 10, Downing Street, regarding the resignation of Prime Minister Boris Johnson. It was expected, although he did his best to cling on, regardless of the number of his ministers who resigned. He came out of Number 10 and gave a speech, saying he would remain Prime Minister until a replacement is chosen.

My replacement debit card arrived in the post this afternoon. I'm just grateful that the incident with my bank card being used fraudulently has been resolved and the money that was taken has been returned to me. I'm really amazed at how quickly the replacement card was sent out. Well done Nationwide Building Society!

Friday. 7.25 a.m. I have more or less finished moving stuff out of the kitchen. Two cupboards are left to clear out and the microwave is now sitting on my desk. There's really nowhere else for it to go. I really just want to get the job started and, hopefully, and I say hopefully, it won't take ten days as specified. The electric oven and the fridge-freezer will be moved by workmen on Monday, into the hallway, and then they would be able to start hacking away at the tiling and the flooring, which is in very poor condition.

11.45 a.m. I've just got back from Sainsbury's. They continue to change things around in there. Why? Is it some made management exercise, just to annoy their customers? Some of it seems absolutely pointless. I'll give you an example: the pet aisle. Dog things on one side, cat things on the opposite side. They have merely swapped them around! I can't think of a good reason for this. No more, or less, space. No new products. Just shifting things across the aisle!!

Bright sunshine this morning. Inside, my digital thermometer reads 82ºF. I'm not sure what the outside temperature is at the moment, but probably around 10-15 degrees less than inside. 

I mentioned on here, quite a few months ago, about the construction of scooter sheds (no, not THAT sort of scooter.) They had to be provided because where they are currently parked, according to the fire officer, they are a danger. So, specially constructed sheds have been constructed outside, with electric points for charging etc. But they can't be used because a special door needs to be constructed so that users can get in and out of the building. Why on earth can't this be completed? There's no sense. SOMEONE in Milton Keynes Council needs to sign the relevant paperwork and get the work finished, so these confounded sheds can be used.  It would be an irony if there was actually a fire and the confounded scooters go in the way of people attempting to leave the building. Oh, wait! If there is/was a fire, we're supposed to remain in our flats. Not a good idea. Look what happened to the tenants of Grenfell Tower, who were told to remain in their flats when that awful fire took place in 2017. Just don't expect me to sit in my flat and not make any attempt to escape.

More of The Same?

Sunday. 7.40 a.m. It's raining, although it's very light. In fact, I would so as far as to say it isn't really proper rain, more like drizzle. I will need to take Alfie out again before I go off to church. The kitchen is tidy. The washing up from yesterday evening is done and there's not much more to do. There is nothing worse than coming home to a pile of dirty pots and pans in the sink.

2.15 p.m. We did go out and then I went to church. On the way home I went into Tesco in Oldbrook Boulevard and got a sandwich in one of those offers where you get a sandwich, a drink and a snack.

3.55 p.m. Now watching the Jubilee Pageant, which is on BBC1. Some incredible creations moving along The Mall. Extremely colourful and dramatic. This is the final event of the four-day special weekend. A lot of amazing floats, really clever and funny. Just shows that we can produce this sort of thing as good as anywhere else in the world.

I have signed up to Britbox. It streams through my Fire TV stick on my television. A lot of BBC, ITV, Channel Four and 5 material, particularly what I  would call 'classic' comedy, such as Dads Army, Some Mother's Do 'Ave 'Em as well as drama series. I'm surprised there's Shakespeare, from the RSC, material which is from 'live' recordings which have been streamed to cinemas in the past. The first couple of weeks is free, then £2.99 a month and then £5.99 a month thereafter. 

Monday. 6.20 a.m. I was out a good bit later than I have in recent days.

So, Bojo (Boris Johnson) is to face a vote of no confidence this evening. The required 54 Conservative MPs have handed in letters to the 1922 Committee, which is what triggers the vote, which is to happen sometime tonight. I think it can't happen soon enough as he can't be trusted, and if you can't trust your Prime Minister, then he must go. As regards the so-called Partygate Scandal, which is behind this confidence vote, and the fact that he and many of his ministers as well as civil servants, broke the Covid-19 rules by holding parties within Number 10 Downing Street, while the rest of us in Britain followed these rules more or less to the latter, then he must go. But the question is, if he loses and is forced to resign, who will replace him? Frankly, in my opinion, the regulations were unnecessary and people should have been able to make their own minds up as regards their behaviour to have people fined was a step too far. Also, if the PM didn't understand the rules he had enacted into law, then how could you expect the members of the public to understand them? 

11.25 p.m. The British Museum currently has an exhibition I would have liked to go to on Stonehenge. I also knew they were publishing a book and thought, rather than visit, which would have been quite a strain, knowing my health issues, unfortunately, I would buy the book. I looked on the British Museum website but couldn't get it to function (not good as they will lose customers.) and I attempted several times to buy the aforementioned book. I then searched several online bookshops and avoided Amazon (as I give them plenty of custom as it is!) I then went on the Blackwells website and found the book, which I ordered last week (I think possibly Tuesday or Wednesday. The four-day Bank Holiday has obviously disrupted the delivery (and I had several emails from the courier company telling me it had been dispatched etc and then this morning another saying it would be delivered before 11.30 a.m. I heard footsteps on the stairs and realised it could have been someone delivering my parcel, which it was. A large, very well wrapped parcel marked Blackwells and inside, a somewhat spectacular book all about Stonehenge! Really well produced and presented and will keep me interested as it's a subject which intrigues me and I visited with Carol a few years ago and where we joined English Heritage, which manages the site with the National Trust. 

Tuesday. 5.40 a.m. Another really mild and quite beautiful morning. A mist hanging over Oldbrook Green and the rising sun glowing through the mist. I was lost in thought as I walked around, with Alfie sniffing every blade of grass. Suddenly I was approached by another dog, which I see regularly, with a lady I have spoken to on several occasions. This dog jumped up at me, which jolted me out of my thoughts.

Yesterday evening at 9 o'clock, the news came through that Boris Johnson had won the No Confidence vote, although many of his MPs had rebelled. He keeps on saying he can now 'move on,' but it means he's not in a safe position. Around 40% of his MPs don't support him, which isn't a good place to be in. He is, in effect, hanging on by a very thin thread.

What's To Become of Boris?

Tuesday. 6.30 a.m. Alfie wasn't expecting his usual early morning outing. He was asleep on my bed, curled up on my pillow and when he did awaken, he didn't make a noise, which is so unlike him as he usually makes a lot of noise as soon as I pick up his lead and make my intentions to go out with him.

Wednesday. 10.15 a.m. I had a knock on my door on Monday morning. I was to have an eye test. I couldn't believe it was a year since the last one. But what time? Today, between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. I haven't been given a definite time, so will have to wait and see.

Boris Johnson has been handed a fixed penalty notice by the Police because of having a birthday party in Number 10, Downing Street. It seems absolutely ridiculous that he made the rules regarding lockdown and now he's been 'done' for breaking his own rules. But did he actually frame the legislation? Thinking about it, it would have been some Whitehall civil servant who wrote the legislation and then the Government signed it off. Was it necessary? In all honesty, no. We should never have had to be locked up like criminals and made to feel guilty about 'killing granny' as they kept telling us at the almost daily press briefings. We were told by the scientists that there were going to be more than 50,000 deaths from covid, which turned out to be a total fabrication. All predicted, by flawed computer modelling.

But Boris was handed a cake for his birthday. And Boris obviously can't ignore such things as cakes. He's like a naughty boy (think Billy Bunter, or for that matter Mr Toad, the central character in 'Wind In The Willows'.) He can never resist temptation. How is he likely to react to being confined, such as during lockdown? He can't tell the truth. Does Boris not realize that all this 'Partygate' business was more than likely a set-up, a trap to catch him out? Have a search, and discover which newspaper broke this story. Which newspaper, and particularly with what political leaning, broke the story of Boris having a party in the garden of Number 10. I think it was the definitely left-leaning Daily Mirror. Most likely in an attempt to dislodge him from his position as Prime Minister. Can you see where I'm going with this? The problem with Boris is he can't see he's being got at deliberately. He goes on acting like an idiot, and as a result, he's heading for a fall. But who took those incriminating photographs in the first place? When that photograph of the party in the garden of Number 10 was taken, where was the photographer? It must have been from a window of one of the buildings opposite Number 10. And what are those buildings? Most likely those belonging to various governmental departments and ministries. So, one can work out that no doubt the photographer was a government employee, possibly a civil servant who must have had contacts within the media, links to The Daily Mirror. See where this is heading? It doesn't take a Sherlock Holmes to work things out, can it?  On top of Boris Johnson getting clobbered by The Police for not adhering to the lockdown rules, how many civil servants also got their collars felt? Will we ever know? I bet we won't. Busy hiding in their ivory towers.

So, before I end this piece on the ever-accident prone Boris Johnson, will he be forced to resign? He's not likely to go himself. He's most likely to be forced out with a 'no-confidence vote from his own party. Then, who is going to replace him? For all his faults he does have a certain kind of charisma, even if it's the sort of 'upper-class twit' sort of charisma, as I've mentioned before, a combination of Mr Toad, Winnie The Pooh and Bertie Wooster. He doesn't fit any sort of role model, though, that's for sure. But when he goes (when not if as far as I can see.) he will be the first British Prime Minister to be forced out of office because of a birthday cake. Not going to look good in biography at some stage in the not-too-distant future. Most Ministers resign over such things as marital infidelity, links with spies, or some other misdemeanour or other but definitely, I can not recall one being removed from office over a few potato chips, a slice of birthday cake and a glass of cheap M and S plonk!

Freedom Day . . . At Long Last!

This is the day we've been waiting for. All the ludicrous restrictions we've had to live under for the past two years are being abandoned. Let's say it; the pandemic is over, although Boris Johnson has said that the coronavirus hasn't gone away. Let's just say, it's hiding. We have to learn to live with it. 

It may be 'Freedom Day' if that's what you want to call it, but we now have all this overshadowed by the Ukraine Crisis with Russia threatening to invade that small country. Vladimir Putin making out it's their fault, and they're the aggressor. All this is done to deflect things from problems within Russia, mostly financial.

Thursday. 9.45 a.m. I have just got back from taking Alfie out for one of his walks and, as we walked along the path that runs beside Strudwick Drive, I notice a bright yellow pencil that looked as if it has been thrown away. Nothing wrong with it, an ordinary Staedtler wooden pencil, HB grade. I'm thinking, 'I'll have that!" So I picked it up and put it in my jacket pocket. But further along, I picked up more and in total there were 10 of them. I just hope they were thrown there by a pupil from Milton Keynes Academy or even the Primary school which is just over the road. Are children so stupid as to throw away stuff they are given to use in their lessons? I know some children don't have such items given to them by their parents as they don't have the income to afford such items as pens, pencils and other things, so why waste these by throwing them on the grass. There are children in Africa who would be pleased to have even a scrap of paper to write on or a pencil to write with. I don't think the children around here realize how lucky they are to have even the basic things free of charge for use in their education.

Perfectly good pencils, rescued from the grass along Strudwick Drive this morning. Just a waste to throw them away.

7.30 a.m. As I've mentioned in earlier blogs, I have upgraded my MacBook and now have a MacBook Pro. I'm more than pleased with it. I'm really surprised how thin and light it is, compared with my MacBook Air. I had been searching online to find some way of recycling it and, hopefully, get a fair price for it. This morning it has been collected by a courier from DPD, packed it up in a sealed box and is now gone. It was in excellent condition, mostly because it has had a plastic cover. I had managed to remove the bottom cover, but not the top one. Which shows how effective it has been in protecting this laptop.  I always attempt to look after all my gadgetry, because it is expensive and if I want to use it there's no point in it getting damaged if it's cared for properly. I had wiped the surface with a wet wipe but got the driver to remove the top cover. Also wiped clean and hopefully, this will affect the price I eventually receive. 

I'm somewhat annoyed that the laundry room is locked until 8 a.m. Just crazy that I have to wait until 8 o'clock to do my washing. I haven't been told about this stupid new rule. More rules and regulations. Just annoying.

It seems that Freedom Day was somewhat overshadowed by the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Just tell me, when did Kiev become Kyiv? It seems that the names of quite a few places have more or less overnight been changed in their spelling. Most western nations have taken their eyes off the ball (you might say.) Biden, US President' is as much use as a wet fish. Probably has early-onset dementia. Meanwhile, our politicians have been more concerned about parties in Downing Street than watching what's happening centre stage.  No wonder Rome burns whilst Nero fiddles. Sorry, I'm mixing my metaphors. No wonder Putin has managed to do what he's done. Puts me in mind of the Munich Crisis in 1938 before the beginning of World War 2. Strange how history repeats itself.

10.30 a.m. It is quite sunny and warm. A pleasant enough day to wander slowly around Oldbrook Green.

I have been back baking. I got the Sainsbury's Magazine last time I was shopping and inside is a recipe for chocolate cookies, so I have bought the ingredients (not actually from Sainsbury's. I decided to go to Waitrose instead. It is quite an effort to make anything complicated in my tiny kitchen because there isn't much in the way of surfaces. It's a bit of a juggling act. Measuring out the flour, butter, sugar and so on and attempted to roll out the dough and then put it on baking trays, but my efforts have been worthwhile. The results have exceeded expectations. Now I have had all the boxes removed from the pantry/cupboard, I have more space to store the equipment, such as the food processor and the trays and pans. I need to get a good deal more organized next time I do a bake.

I have hit the 10,000 steps target today! That's approximately 5 miles. I took Alfie out  at around 4 p.m. as it was bright and sunny and it seemed a pity to not take advantage of the sun. I don't think Alfie was going to miss the opportunity to have a good walk and sniff around in the grass. Just glad to get the steps total in and finding the Fitbit is motivating me to get out of the flat.

Return of Winter?

Saturday. 10.15 a.m. It might be bright and sunny, but there's a chill wind blowing. As the old proverb goes, 'it's an ill wind that blows no good,' which is true in relation to Boris Johnson. We're now into February and I just wonder whether we will escape a freezing and snow-covered rest of winter. It seems possible that we might, but let's see how things turn out.

3.15 p.m. I've been for a walk at the Ouzel Valley Park, which is just down Chaffron Way from where I live in Oldbrook. I let Alfie off his lead in one of the meadows, checking beforehand that there was no livestock, as there is often either sheep or cattle in these places. I know he wouldn't annoy them, but cattle can be quite territorial when dogs are near. It was extremely windy, which is still is as I write this. I clocked up a little over 8,000 steps, as recorded on my new Fitbit Versa 2, so when I got back to Dexter House I wanted to get to my daily target of 10,000, so I took Alfie around Oldbrook Green and I managed to get to the target. 

Sunday. 3.40 a.m. I woke to hear wind howling outside. I went to the loo and shaved. Just no possibility of getting back to sleep now with that wind making that noise.

Last night I watched Billy Elliot: The Musical on Broadway HD. All I can say is, 'wow'! Not disappointed in the slightest. It's truly amazing. I always wanted to go and see it when it was either on in the West End or the tour when it came to the Milton Keynes Theatre (has anyone never come up with a decent name for the local theatre here in Milton Keynes? The recently opened theatre in Aylesbury is called 'The Waterside Theatre,' does at least have some sort of originality, but ours? Lacking some sort of originality, I must say. I would warn you that the show has quite a lot of expletives in it, which, in context, do make it more realistic, but can become somewhat contentious, especially if you were to take young children to see it, although it's not really suitable for children below, say, the age of around 12-13. I'm not sure, but I think the original film had a rating of around 13.

9.25 a.m. It has been raining. I have been keeping a watch-out to see if it had stopped, but just in case I decided to get Alfie rigged out in his Regatta rain jacket, and I put my bright yellow raincoat on. We went out and Alfie wasn't sure of the weather, although at that time it had stopped raining.

4.45 p.m. I went to church. There seem to be more people there than ever. It almost always happens that when the service starts there are quite a few seats available and then people arrive. Just the way it is. I usually get to church about half an hour before the start time, but it seems strange to me that people don't get themselves sorted out so they have to arrive late, just after things start.

On the way home I went into Morrisons to buy something for lunch because the service finished later than usual and then there was coffee. It seems as busy as ever. Once I'd had my sandwich and drink when I got home I took Alfie out around Oldbrook Green. It was exceptionally windy so I didn't intend spending any more than necessary out. As I write this, I can hear the wind whistling around the building outside.

A Little Of What You Fancy

I think the Partygate scandal, if indeed it can be termed a scandal, just shows how much Boris Johnson can obfuscate. Now there's a good word. I think I will henceforth attempt to find a 'Word of The Week. This word.

So, obfuscate. Wording something in such a way that it is so excessively complicated that nobody really understands it. This can be said of the crazy and somewhat pointless regulations regarding the pandemic lockdowns. Then, why on earth are there different regulations in the various constituent countries in the United Kingdom? Why are they not consistent throughout the whole United Kingdom? Then, on top of that, we have Boris Johnson who waffles on and seems to evade responding to the various questions in Prime Ministers Questions and debates in the House of Commons, such as, was he at a party in 10 Downing Street or other government establishments?

Wednesday. 2.50 p.m. So, Denmark has got rid of all its pandemic lockdown rules and regulations. So, when can we in Great Britain remove all of our stupid restrictions? Boris was more or less bludgeoned into introducing them in the first place, by the scientists who should have known better.

I think it's time to drop any more mentions of Partygate. It's getting really boring. 

Thursday. 7.45 a.m. Quite mild as I write this. I just hope it stays that way, at least, for the next week or so.

I've bought a Fitbit Versa 2. It replaces the old one I've had for a couple of years, which stopped working. This model isn't merely a step counter, but a watch that measures heart-rate, and many other things. I bought it from Argos, using my Nectar points and points I had collected doing various online surveys. I was surprised how quickly I was able to get it up and running and using it. I had ordered it via the Argos website and collected it from their store in Milton Keynes yesterday morning ('Click and Collect' I believe they call this.) Argos have stopped their catalogue and seem to only work with their website. I suppose it must have been extremely expensive to create these catalogues which came out twice a year and then distribute them. If you have the internet it's far easier to find and order items which you can then collect from their showrooms or have delivered.

I went to my first lecture of the National Trust Association at the Oaktree Centre at 2 p.m. It was somewhat off being there, but not for a church event, but nevertheless it was interesting. It was a talk by someone who used to work for Charles Ross fine art auctioneers in Woburn. Charles Ross is a regular antique expert on such television shows as Bargain Hunt and Antiques Road Trip. This gentleman, by the name of Evan Willison, gave an amusing talk (he didn't like it being called a lecture, and I can see why. Smacks of 'education' and it being somewhat po-faced, which this certainly wasn't. He mentioned many and various incidents which had happened to him over the course of working as an auctioneer for over 30 years. Very amusing. I was surprised by how well attended the event was. There are regular talks given on a variety of subjects as well as outings to various places, one coming up to the British Museum and another to Chartwell, home of wartime Prime Minister Winston Churchill. I don't think I will be going on that one, having already visited and the fact that it would take a good two hours to travel down to Kent and then another two hours back on a coach. Not my idea of fun, particularly as I'm over six foot tall and sitting on a coach for any length of time would be uncomfortable. Most coaches aren't designed with any thought for someone my height. I may wait and see what other outings they have and decide to go one something else, especially if it's to one of the National Trust properties.

A Work Meeting or a Cheese and Wine Party?

I have rejoined the National Trust. I went online the Sunday before last and filled in the relevant details and I was surprised that my membership card and the handbook arrived on Wednesday. I thought it would be at least a month before all this arrived. I had already discovered a local branch of the National Trust Association, having been to the history festival which was held in Campbell Park during the summer of 2019. It was here that I discovered Milton Keynes Heritage Association, which I joined as well as found out about C.L.A.S.P. (Community Landscape Archaeology Project) which I signed up to and was due to go to an afternoon in a village hall somewhere north of Peterborough, learning about the various techniques that are involved in archaeology (for example, ground-penetrating radar, lidar etc. )But this was postponed when the first lockdown was announced in the early months of 2020. So I await the possibility of getting involved in that during the summer of 2022. The area branch of the National Trust Association meets in the Oaktree Centre and I am going to a meeting this Thursday afternoon.

Monday. 4.45p.m. So, the infamous Sue Gray report on the parties and other gatherings, work or otherwise, has finally been released. Has it been tampered with? What has been removed so that some people don't get the blame for all this craziness?

Tuesday. 8.00 a.m. The 'Partygate' business has been blown up out of all proportion. Okay, so our beloved Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, broke lockdown rules. But when you look at these rules they were so complicated, it's no wonder anyone would be totally confused. There should have been a distinction made between what was a gathering for work and when a gathering was for entertainment, such as a party. Tying people in knots isn't such a good idea. Looking at it another way, there are now people coming out of the woodwork who say that, in effect, the medicine is worse than the illness. They say that lockdowns have caused more problems than they solve, that they don't actually reduce infections, wearing face coverings are an infringement of people's liberties and human rights, that lockdowns have damaged relationships, for example, domestic violence has increased under lockdowns, mental health has been damaged, medical procedures such as chemotherapy have been totally disrupted or even abandoned as a result, that children's educations have been totally destroyed. I can go on. Then, on top of all that we have jobs being destroyed, people's livelihoods being damaged and then there's the economic cost which runs into trillions of pounds. Which will take decades to repay. And we're fussing over parties going on in Downing Street? It seems totally ridiculous, and they are supposed to have happened almost two years ago. What a crazy world we live in. If this was fiction, you'd say it wasn't real, when in fact, it is.  It seems appalling to me that these regulations have been concocted by those who have no democratic right to make such rules and regulations, although these regulations have been approved by our politicians. Worst of all, the data that has been released about the numbers of infections and deaths of those who have had a positive covid test have been concocted by using highly flawed computer modelling. 

I think what really comes out of this scandal, if that's what you want to call it, is whether we as citizens of this country can trust our politicians. Why can't Boris Johnson just tell the truth? It seems he can't be totally honest about whether he was or wasn't at one of these gatherings and stop trying to evade questions. We should be able to trust our politicians, even if we don't agree with their policies. 

Jam Yesterday, Jam Tomorrow, But Never Jam Today

 The title for this blog post, that is, if you weren't aware, is from the Lewis Carroll book, 'Through The Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There.' It seemed somewhat appropriate for the current 'Partygate' situation. But more likely in Boris Johnson's case, 'Cake yesterday, cake tomorrow, but never cake today.' Just thinking about the absurdity of so-called 'Partygate' makes me think of Alice in Wonderland,  and the craziness of the world created by Lewis Carroll. Perhaps a never-ending tea party, with the Mad Hatter (definitely Boris Johnson.) in charge, with the March Hare and Dormouse in attendance. They kept moving around the table, and the Mad Hatter screaming at Alice 'No room! No room!' when there obviously was plenty of room.  The idea of making a promise, in this case, jam, or any sort of promise made by a politician, which is just hot air and they know full well that it can't be kept, in the case of Mr Johnson, how he will deal with Brexit and the aftermath. Remember the infamous bus with the slogan emblazoned on its side 'We send £350 million to the EU every week' which he must have known wasn't accurate. Then there's 'Levelling Up.' The less said about that the better. But who remembers the dying days of the John Major administration in the late 1990s? The so-called 'Back to basics' campaign, went belly-up when several of his ministers were found to be not quite as morally clean as they should have been. I think Mr Major would have liked to put the genie back in the bottle over that one. 

I actually attended a tenants meeting on Thursday! I have been to once since I moved to Dexter House. Barbara, our S.H.O. (Sheltered Housing Officer) took minutes and chaired the meeting. There is a leak in the roof along the corridor leading to the door out into Strudwick Drive. It has to be fixed before the workmen can start work on painting the walls, as it would be pointless to paint and then have water leaking down the paintwork. There's something wrong with the drains here and they have to investigate down one of the pipes which run through the building. I had a shower the other evening and the water took an age to drain away, so I suspect that is connected to a blockage somewhere. The paintwork is soon to be redone, including the stairs which lead up to our flats. Nothing else of any great interest or excitement.

Saturday. 2.20 p.m. It's overcast and windy today. There was a brief sunny period, but it didn't last long. Alfie was doing his prodding thing when I was laying on my bed, so I felt a necessity to take him out and around Oldbrook Green.

Sunday. 8.05 a.m. I didn't wake up until well past 7.30 this morning. It's bright and sunny, but some frost formed ice on the car. I'm going to have to defrost it before I leave to go to church.

Storm Malik caused havoc across the north of England. We seem to have avoided the strength of this storm which is now passing through the country, but there's another storm brewing. I would say both metaphorically and in reality.

2.45 p.m. I have been to church. We have the choice of whether to wear a face mask or muzzle, as I prefer to call them.  The restrictions are slowly being lifted. The hall was full. It seems that more and more people are beginning to return, although there is still the option to watch online via Facebook.

I took Alfie out once I'd had lunch. I notice that there are bulbs beginning to come up as I walk back into Dexter House, in the community garden. Is this a sign of spring? It's getting light a good deal earlier each morning. 

Monday. 8.45 a.m. It's bitterly cold this morning, with a high wind blowing. It might be sunny, but that's deceptive. It still seems though that this area of the country has avoided the worst of Storm Malik. 

Boris Bunter Loves Cake!

Friday. 2.00 p.m. I'm sure Boris Johnson loves cake, so if someone appears on his birthday and waves a bit of cake under his nose, he's bound to go all googly-eyed, and drooling like a dog when downwind of a plate of meaty scraps. So it's no wonder he didn't disown the chance to have a party in Downing Street. Were these parties like children's parties, with jelly and ice cream, musical chairs, blind man's buff, pass the parcel and so on? A goody bag for everyone when they leave? Was there a conjurer there? Or some other children's entertainer? The more I think about 'Partygate' the more ludicrous and pointless all this is. Now is the time for all good men to go to the aid of the party. Perhaps.

And now . . . The Police don't want anything to do with the investigation, which was carried out by the civil servant, Sue Gray. The plot thickens. I think it will turn out that there were far more parties going on that shouldn't have been, probably by other mandarins in Whitehall, rather making the whole thing a bit rich. I wonder what Sir Humphrey Appleby, the Private Secretary of Jim Hacker, the Prime Minister in the BBC sitcom 'Yes, Prime Minister'? No doubt he would have come out with one of his long-winded and complex explanations. This entire affair is turning into a Whitehall farce, quite literally.

This morning I had an email from my MP in response to Partygate. I wrote because I wanted him to know how angry I was that I had been following the pandemic regulations more or less to the letter whilst it seemed those in Downing Street have been having a wild time, or so it would appear. It's not just the hypocrisy that angered me, but the fact that I had to sacrifice going to see my grandchildren over Christmas 20 and now knowing what was going on inside 10 Downing Street.

Saturday. 8.15 a.m. Okay, okay. We're still waiting for the infamous 'Partygate' enquiry results. It seems to be taking over every news programme on television and headlines and front pages of all the newspapers. But, come on chaps, let's get over it and move on, can we, please? I reckon there's more to it than the fact that people broke lockdown regulations. Let's be perfectly honest, how many people actually adhered 100% to the really complicated, and some say, completely unnecessary, regulations. I have a sneaking suspicion that all this nonsense has a rather sinister agenda behind it, and that's to get rid of Boris Johnson. Love him or loathe him, our media is generally controlled by a left-wing element. Particularly the BBC. The Government is eager to clip the wings of our major Public Service broadcaster and in particular to find a new funding model to replace the archaic Television Licence. So, they are more than desperate to find a way to discredit the Conservative government at any cost. Apart from anything else, there are far more important stories to be covered by the papers and television programmes. For example, the fact that Russia is threatening to invade  Ukraine and has sent thousands of troops to the border, or the mounting fuel costs crisis, or how to return the country to some semblance of normality as the pandemic comes to an end. As it is, the media is spinning that story out somewhat and seem reluctant to give any positive news on that particular subject. 

All In A Day's Work

Tuesday. 10.20 a.m. It's still mild. Not sunny, although a slight chill. For late January, really mild. I thought it was cold enough for snow, but it doesn't seem cold enough for snow at the moment.

I have been to post the parcel for the grandsons. I drove towards Coffee Hall, but for some inexplicable reason, I missed the turn, thinking I had gone past the turning for Milton Keynes Academy. So I had to take the next right turn into Coffee Hall. A real maze of roads and with some manoeuvering, I managed to get to Garraways where One Stop is which has the post office inside.

I'm gradually transcribing my handwritten work onto word processing. The new MacBook is certainly making life easier in that respect. I have well over 1500 words written and it's going well. Not just transcribing, but making alterations as I go.

Wednesday. 9.40 a.m. I'm continuing with the transcribing. It's going well. A slow process, but it has to be done.

Yesterday evening I watched the first episode of 'The Green Planet', the latest David Attenborough natural history series on BBC 1. (Although I watched it via BBC iPlayer.) What can I say, except that it's beautiful and totally amazing, especially the use of time-lapse photography, to show plants growing? As usual, the final ten minutes is devoted to the people who make the show, answering a question I had as soon as I saw this footage, 'how do they do it?' This is the type of programme which only the BBC can make. The patience of the makers is totally incredible. It's a bit like animation, something else that intrigues me. A very slow process to get a mere couple of screen time. 

Oh dear! Boris Johnson is in a pickle. Nothing new there. He's something of a loose cannon. Partygate, which it has been christened, is all over the papers. There have been parties, both Christmas and the birthday variety, within the hallowed confines of Number 10 Downing Street during the lockdown in 2020. It would appear that there has been a certain amount of hypocrisy going on here. One minute our esteemed Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, has been telling us to 'remain at home' during the pandemic lockdown, during the almost daily press conferences, the next he has been holding gatherings within Downing Street, one of which was in the garden. It has since been revealed that he has a birthday party held in his honour. There is a picture circulating where he has been presented with a rather tasty-looking birthday cake and he has a wide grin on his face. It seems that he cannot resist cake at any price. Even though he must have know that a gathering of his cabinet or other political allies within Downing Street would have been against the rules. 

Johnson is a combination of Mr Toad, Bertie Wooster, Billy Bunter and Winnie The Pooh!

There is an investigation going into Partygate. It does seem rather extreme, to say the least, and somewhat unnecessary. Will Boris be forced to resign over eating cake? Will he bite the dust? All rather like an episode of the rather brilliant 1980s political sitcom 'Yes Prime Minister."  Even something out of Oliver Cromwell's time as Lord Chancellor. Or perhaps something out of the works of Frans Kafka. Certainly comedic. 

So, what happens after the findings of the independent investigation are revealed? Will Boris be sent packing?

Just tell me, what did this woman Sue Gray investigate? Did she go round 10 Downing Street with a magnifying glass like Sherlock Holmes, looking for birthday cake crumbs? Did she find party poppers on the floor? The candles from Boris's birthday cake? The wrapping paper from presents? It all sounds so idiotic it sounds as if it's been fabricated by some sort of spoilsport.

One Law For Them . . .

Saturday 15th January. 8.15 a.m. I was somewhat surprised by thick fog as I took Alfie out this morning. As I write this, the BBC Breakfast weather forecast has said that there is 50-100 feet visibility. I can believe it. I don't have to go anywhere in the car, so I won't have to drive through it.

Sunday. 7.45 a.m. A dark and dreary morning. I took Alfie out as he kept on scratching on the bathroom door when I was using the toilet. I took the little pocket torch with me. We weren't outside long, so the torch wasn't necessary. It needs a new battery installing because the light from it is too weak to be of any use.

It looks as if Boris Johnson's tenure as PM is on the line. There have been revelations about Christmas parties being held in 2020 when we were in lockdown and, under Government laws, such gatherings weren't supposed to take place. Boris is attempting to wriggle out of any responsibility for such events (there are several which have come to light, but one clearly showing him attending one in the garden of Number 10. ) There is an inquiry underway, but as it stands, Boris is still PM and as such should have taken responsibility as a leader. One minute he goes on the Downing Street press conferences and announces new measures to prevent the spread of the coronavirus, and behind the scenes, he is allowing gatherings. Real hypocrisy. A definite case of 'do as I saw, not what I do', or, 'one law for them and one for us.' Only time will tell whether he leaves Downing Street as Prime Minister.

2.30 p.m. I've been to church this morning. Sunny and bright as I drove up Chaffron Way. It's still extremely sunny as I took out Alfie. The hall was packed. Phase 2 of the building project (for the Oaktree Centre.) has been revived. 

I got back from church, parked the car, and I thought I heard the fire alarm going off within Dexter House. I hoped it wouldn't be that, but as I walked inside, it was all too obvious that it was. The doors along the corridor leading to my flat had shut (which they do automatically when the alarm goes out, presumably to contain smoke if there is a genuine fire.) I'm never sure whether it's an emergency or some sort of fault with the system. There was definitely no sign of smoke or even flames, no smell of burning. Had someone burnt their toast, left a cigarette burning in an ashtray, or forgotten something in their oven? You never can tell. The sound is deafening and as I entered the flat, Alfie started barking. He really doesn't like the noise. I have to admit it is deafening. I suppose it has to be if it's going to wake people if they're asleep if there's a fire. We're supposed to remain in our flats if there is a fire. Which I'm not doing. That was the instruction given to the tenants of  Grenfell Tower in 2017 and look what happened to them when there was a terrible fire? I have always taken Alfie with me when the alarm goes off, and we go and stand outside the front door until the fire service gives the all-clear to re-enter the building. The din continued for several minutes, after which I pressed the emergency alarm and was told that someone was coming to sort out the alarm, and around 5 minutes later the noise stopped. No doubt it was caused by a fault with the system, which it always seems to be, unfortunately.

Monday. 1.45 p.m. It was icy when I took Alfie out as usual around 7.30 this morning. I intended to go to Sainsbury's, as I needed items to form my lunch when I go to Camphill tomorrow, so I had to spend a good ten minutes defrosting the car. Fortunately, I had bought a fresh can of antifreeze spray from Homebase when I went there the other day, so it didn't take too long.

I am continuing with my writing, which requires transcribing onto word processing. It may have to wait until I can rely on my MacBook to behave itself. It seems fine at the moment, but it has a habit of shutting itself down. I have no idea what's causing this, but I still think the only solution is to purchase a new model which will have the newest version of all the software on it. Unfortunately, the MacBook doesn't have enough memory to install the latest version of the operating system. It is over seven years old, which is supposed to be the average life of a computer, so I reckon I've got plenty of work out of it over the years and it has done good duty.

Revolting Tories

Okay, okay, it's a bit overdone to use that for a blog post title, but I will explain later.

9.50 a.m. It was cold and windy yesterday.  As I've mentioned in earlier posts, Alfie doesn't like cold, wet, windy, rain, and so on. You can't blame him. Yesterday I took him out mid-morning. He wasn't out for more than thirty seconds, turned tail, and beetled back indoors. But part-way along the corridor he did a naughty on the floor! Not like him at all. Not even as a puppy. He was easy to house train. But as an adult? No! He has had accidents in the middle of the night, but not outside the flat. I had to pick it up and we head to dispose of it in one of the bins within the boundaries of Oldbrook Green. (why can't there be a bin for this use further back towards Dexter House?) Quite a jaunt, but nevertheless, it had to be done. 

This morning, around 9.15, we went out again and Alfie did his business on the grass. I was in the process of picking it up in one of the disposable bags I carry in a pocket in my trousers, was just turning round to walk along the path to the bin across Oldbrook Boulevard and onto the Green, when a young man shot towards me on one of those electric scooters. I barely had time to stand aside as he hurtled past, narrowly avoiding being hit midships and possibly causing real damage to my person. No attempt to slow down, apologize or take evasive action. It really shocked me, particularly as you can't hear these scooters as they rush about. Just dangerous.

Okay. Boris Johnson gave another of the by now regular press conferences regarding the pandemic from 10 Downing Street. We are going to have to endure the reintroduction of some restrictions and new regulations, such as the wearing of masks in confined spaces, such as in shops (also, within the common areas in Dexter House.) Also, he said we have to 'work at home where possible.' You have to wear a mask in shops and offices, 'but don't cancel Christmas parties.' This doesn't make a lot of sense. Why in shops, offices and indoor areas? This includes theatres, which I trust doesn't mean the performers, just the audience. But I hear that some of Boris' Backbench MPs are threatening to rebel against the new restrictions. Why is the reason for my blog post title? 'Revolting Tories.' We shall have to wait and see how this plays out. Meanwhile, we will have to put up with 'Plan B' as these new restrictions are called, as they will be in place until around the end of February, all because of the omicron variant of the covid virus. Such is life.

So, if there's supposed to be a 'plan B,' and that doesn't work, does it follow that we can expect a 'plan C,' a 'plan D' and so ad infinitum? Please tell me NOT. We can't keep panicking when a new variant comes along. As mentioned before, all viruses mutate. That's the nature of viruses. We just need to stop this aimless race against a hidden 'danger.' There are dangers all over the place. Just crossing the road is a danger, so in getting in a car, walking along the street. You can't possibly live totally risk-free. So let's just get back to some sort of normal.

Then we have 'Partygate.' It has been discovered that there was a Christmas party in 10 Downing Street over the Christmas period, 2020 when the country was put into Lockdown. A video was discovered which showed staff laughing and mocking the fact that a party was held, regardless of lockdown, and seemingly not under social distancing restrictions. Boris Johnson has attempted to deny anything happened, but after the various gaffes, he has made it's difficult to believe the man. I think his days as Prime Minister are limited and it has now been revealed that there were TWO More parties held over Christmas 2020, one being at the Ministry of Education. Heads will roll and have started to roll. Is Boris going to come clean? I fear not.

Friday. 1.05 p.m. Not quite as cold as earlier in the week. The sun is shining, but there's a slight nip in the air.

Monday. 10.15 a.m. I'm going to rest this blog until after the Christmas break, so, once this post is completed, I won't be continuing with it until well into the New Year, so goodnight and God bless. Have a lovely Christmas!

A Red Sky In The Morning . . . Boris' Trousers on Fire

 Sunday. 10.15 a.m. Another cold and blustery day. The cough is still causing problems. I continue to take the cough mixture, and it seems to help. I didn't go to church because of the cold and the effect it would have on the cough. I took a dose of cough mixture and then attempted to watch the SCF service via Facebook, but the whole thing froze up and wouldn't work properly. Furthermore, I imagine it's got something to do with the church broadband connection. Several other people who were watching posted that they were finding the images were freezing or at least juddering. It really needs dealing with, unfortunately.

Monday. 8.10 a.m. It's cold again this morning, but I could see a bright red sky from my window as I was having my breakfast. What do they say? 'Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning. Red sky at night, shepherd's delight.' Not sure how accurate, but let's wait and see whether it gets colder or even windy. Storm Arwen has done its worst and calmed down and disappeared, but next, we have to expect Storm Barra. Don't ask me where they got the name from.

Wednesday. 7.45 a.m. Alfie is definitely not one to like cold, wind, rain or generally wet in any form. This undoubtedly this morning when we went out and the little tyke was in and out as quickly as possible and back tucked up on the sofa, but, as I write, on my bed, probably under the duvet.

11.10 p.m. I was just getting off to sleep when the merry sound of the fire alarm went off. No doubt someone in another flat within Dexter House has either forgotten to check their oven was on with their oven chips or something, a fag-end was left smoldering in an ash-tray, or else they burnt their toast. Either way, it's deafening which means I moved from the bedroom into the lounge, and Alfie's looking at me as he doesn't like the noise. Who can blame him? Whatever it is that set the confounded thing off means I get to write a bit more of this and Alfie's attempting to climb on my knee which is impossible with the laptop in the way. There is a fire engine outside in Dexter Avenue as I can hear the engine running and I could see the flashing blue light when I look out of the window, not that easy as my Christmas tree is in the way. I just hope they manage to discover the reason for the alarm being set off as my ears are ringing from the sound of the alarm and giving me a headache.

Incidentally, on a different matter, has nobody realized that omicron is an anagram of moronic? Or that the two words delta and omicron spell 'media control'? Too right. The conspiracy theories regarding the pandemic and the virus just go on. Boris Johnson now attempting to wriggle out of the latest scandal regarding the Christmas party which was alleged to have taken place in Number 10 Downing Street last year after pandemic restrictions were introduced and not adhering to the aforementioned regulations and making a mockery of the whole situation when the rest of us were in lockdown and not supposed to attend any sort of party. Totally contemptible. Makes me wonder how much longer Johnson can last as Prime Minister as he is rapidly turning into a liability, to not only the Conservative party but also the country as a whole.

11.30 p.m. The alarm is still going and no sign of the wretched noise coming to an end. What exactly IS going on? I can't see smoke emanating from any window or anywhere else, so we'll just have to endure it I suppose.

11.55 p.m. By around 11.40 I'd had enough. The fire engine has gone. So, what set the alarm off? I got dressed as Alfie was beginning to get stressed. He can't cope with the noise. We went out through the front door near the SHO's office and there were two men fiddling with the fire alarm keypad, looking as if they were aimlessly pressing random keys on the pad. I don't know who they were, but by the time we'd walked around to the other entrance on Strudwick Drive the alarm had stopped, so we went back in and returned to my flat. Thank goodness it was over and silence reigned once more! I presume there is a fault with the alarm system.

Virus Variant and Proof of The Pudding

There's supposed to be another variant of the coronavirus. Well, there would be, wouldn't there? There has to be. Just to make sure, we have yet another lockdown Christmas. Can't we just get used to it and be done with it? As Mr Jones the butcher says repeatedly in 'Dad's Army,' '"Don't panic!" It's all negatives. The media seems to love negatives. In fact, they seem to thrive on it.

Saturday. 9.15 p.m. Boris has been on doing his impersonation of being Prime Minister, telling us like good sheep that the omivirus (is that it's new name?) has arrived at the UK's shores, and we must keep on being told what to do etc. I mean, omicron. Why is this variant named after the 15th letter of the Greek alphabet?

I have managed to ice the Christmas cake I made. A layer of marzipan and then soft white icing. No sooner had I completed it than I had a parcel arrive with the decorations, and they are now on the cake! I have really got no idea how it tastes, and I can't wait to try it around Christmas day.

Monday. 10.25 a.m. A layer of snow covering the grass and other surfaces when I took out Alfie at around 7.20 this morning. It's not very thick, but still, it's still snow. Whether we get further remains to be seen. Very cold and I must remember to find my gloves as my hands were beginning to go blue, which is never a good sign.

Tuesday. 10.30 p.m. It's been a good deal milder today. I think Alfie appreciates it when it's warmer.

I went to Sainsbury's. Basically, to collect a repeat prescription from Lloyd's pharmacy. I have been attempting to get a doctor's appointment for the past two days. The cough is getting annoying and I really need something to relieve it. You ring and ring and only get a stupid recorded voice. I did attempt to leave a message for the receptionist, but then they emailed me to say I should ring to make an appointment. So much for our 'wonderful' NHS! What are they doing? Having extended tea breaks? More likely they are using the pandemic as an excuse to not do their jobs properly. I bought a bottle of Robitussin which I have started dosing myself with. It seems to be working. I just have to keep on taking it and hope it does its job.

I bought a sweet little Christmas tree in Sainsbury's. A real one, potted and ready to decorate. 

Wednesday. 6.40 a.m. Goodness! The 1st December. Where has the year gone? Gobbled up by covid, unfortunately. We have to wear face masks if we enter shops (which I had to in Sainsbury's yesterday morning. I thought I would get away without one, but the thought police were on duty so fortunately I had one in my coat pocket.

I have started to decorate the Christmas tree. Not only that, but I bought two sets of LED tree lights but ended up having to untangle them. Not an easy job. I went to Hobbycraft this morning and got some crêpe paper. Goodness, even that is made in China. I can't believe we can't make it in Britain, instead of having to import it from the other side of the world. Just think of the carbon emissions produced to transport it. Crazy! I then went into Pets At Home, which is further along the parade of units, and bought a small water bowl for Alfie which we can take with us when we go to Worcester for Christmas. Oh, and some treats, which will keep his nibs happy. I then walked along the parade to have a look in Smyth's toys. I have to say, I'm not impressed. Just a load of junk basically and plastic which will eventually end up in landfill. Nothing I would deem in any way suitable for either of the grandchildren. I'll just have to have a word with Chloe as to what she suggests. Something they can share, although I don't think that Rosie is exactly of the age to be able to share.

7.00 p.m. As I write this I can hear the wind howling around outside. Sounds somewhat mysterious and I almost expect Cathy to start knocking on the window to be let in, her out of 'Wuthering Heights.'

Thursday. 8.10 a.m. We were out at around around 7.30 a.m. this morning. There must have been a slight flurry of snow overnight, because the grass was covered in a light dusting of the white stuff. Alfie was soon beetling back indoors, having done his usual sniffing around act. I can hardly blame him as I'm not over-delighted with snow.

I made some mince pies to take to the final session of The Prayer Course this evening. It was mid-afternoon when this decision was made. I had all the ingredients, so I thought it would be a good dry run for making a far larger batch to take to Worcester. I was more than pleased with the result. The pastry was rich and crumbly, and I have to admit they tasted far better than bought mince pies. As they say, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and all seven were consumed at the Prayer course. So, I'm more than happy to make a larger batch, but may keep them baking a few minutes longer than I did this test batch.

As regards this new virus variant, I think the that term 'proof of the pudding is in the eating' can just as well be used in relation to the virus as well as mince pies. We are told that we have to wait around three weeks to discover how infections it is, and it will be well into January before we can return to anything close to 'normal.'