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. 

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.

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.)

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!

Please Release Me!

Tuesday. 10.05 a.m. From this Thursday, 24th February, all restrictions imposed by the Government to reduce the spread of coronavirus, will be removed. A day of celebration, surely? A day to throw off the shackles and not be forced to wear a face nappy (a good description for face coverings or whatever you want to call them.) It seems that the powers that be had let CONTROL go to their heads. The population, in general, have just rolled over and let their lives be controlled, mostly with fear being used as a weapon. We all know that 'coronavirus hasn't gone away.' Well, that's what the scientists are telling us and that's what Boris Johnson said at yesterday's press conference. But surely any virus mutates (which is how we came to have the omicron and delta variants.) Then we need to build up natural immunity, which is what the human body does (Doesn't need much intelligence to learn this. Pay attention, to those at the back of the class!) But treating us like infants is really an insult and we do need to be able to make our minds up if we're going to do such-and-such, for example, washing our hands regularly and wearing, or not wearing, face coverings. Surely, that goes without saying. Over-cleaning can have the opposite effect, as it can kill off natural flora which fights bacteria. Look at what's happened with the over-use of antibiotics, hence M.R.S.A. But now the government wants people to start going back to work, those who are employed in offices and other workspaces where people gather. Some hope of there being a race back any time soon because we've been frightened into submission by the scientists. It won't be easy to change people's habits.  After all, who is running the country, or, at least, supposed to be running the country? It seems we've been controlled by scientists, who don't very often get things right, particularly the vast numbers they tell us are going to catch the virus and how many are going to die from it. All this after they have number-crunched and come up with a figure which turns out to be so over-the-top as to be unbelievable, and our government just rolls over and does what they say. These people are paid eye-watering amounts of money, yet they get things wrong. Boris Johnson should just tell them to get lost and just remove the crazy restrictions.

I've been to Sainsbury's this morning. I had a few items I needed, one of them being sugar. They have had it in the same position for I don't know how many years. I went up and down the aisles, back and forth. I was at the point of giving up when I discovered it moved to an entirely different place along the back wall. No sign on the old position, telling customers where it had moved to, which is too easy. Just very annoying to have to find it myself. 

I emailed my MP about the Partygate scandal, that is, the discovery that there had been parties within Number 10 Downing Street during the time we were not supposed to meet up with other people in large numbers to prevent the spread of the coronavirus. I wasn't expecting to get a reply, but I didn't really expect to get a personal response! I am somewhat impressed that I got a personal response, not some prepared email that everyone gets. He has since emailed me again about the further situation regarding Partygate. To be honest, I think the whole thing has been set up to discredit Boris Johnson. As the photographs of Boris Johnson and other ministers in the Downing Street garden were first published when the story originally broke, in the Labour-leaning Daily Mirror, it seems to me there was a definite plot going on, even though the parties broke lockdown regulations. Then, who took the photographs? They must have been in a building over-looking Downing Street. Will we ever be told?

1.20 p.m. I have made some chocolate cookies. I'm not entirely sure if they're really successful. They taste great, but they might have needed a bit more cooking at a slightly higher temperature to be entirely successful. I think they should have been crisper than they are. A bit chewy but really tasty.

Mark, who cares for one of the tenants in Dexter House, has helped me dispose of the broken up boxes and packages I had in the cupboard in the kitchen, which I mentioned earlier. He has taken them to the area where the dustmen come to collect rubbish. So the cupboard/pantry is more or less empty, save for one or two items, such as the old electric kettle and toaster which I can take to the tidy tip for recycling, along with the old toilet seat which has been sitting against the kitchen wall since it was replaced months ago. It's good to have dealt with all this stuff that has been cluttering up the flat for so long.

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. 

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.