Alan Titchmarsh...

It's all growing well. My windowsill's a jungle of tomatoes, sweetcorn, courgettes and cucumber seedlings. My heated propagator ready to take some more seeds, god knows where I'll put them when they come up. It's all good though, the more I can grow the better, digging for victory is such a good way to pass the time.

Today I'm going to make a potting table out of an old pallet I have. Well, gotta do something to pass the time and a job a day keeps the Coronavirus blues at bay. I'll post a picture when it's done. As always with these things (and this is quite a thing, this Coronavirus bastard) my mind is whirling and my views change moment to moment. It's one of the problems with having a mind that absorbs new information and then adjusts opinions and beliefs accordingly. It's easy to see it as changing my mind or having no rock-solid values and it's easy to piss people off. Well, they piss me off too with the stupidity of there unshakeable views (I'm like that when it comes to not seeing things my way - no apologies I'm usually right). If you'd told me last Christmas that most of the county would be staying at home and, when they do dare to go out, staying six feet away from other people whilst wearing rubber gloves and masks I'd have laughed out loud.  Well just look at things now, we are all dressed to burgle and nobody seems to be bothered. I guess if we all started wearing Burkas to protect ourselves that would be fine too.

And there we have it, people change their minds based upon the situation, at least the survivors, the sensible ones do. All previous firm beliefs are off, at least they are for me and it's like waking up to a different me every morning. That's it for today, I'm off to be Alan Titchmarsh for the day, who knows who I'll be tomorrow?

Lost in time...

They say that there is no time like the present (mindfulness baby) and ain't that the truth. Particularly now as the past is just a happy memory, the future uncertain and the present confusing as fuck. Live in the moment (yea, mindfulness baby) is what we are often told, but what exactly is the moment? Come to that does anybody have any idea what day of the week it is or the date or even the month? And then just as you were past caring to top it all you wake up and the clocks have gone forward a whole hour (bong, bong, bong, bong).

My body clock is buggered. I'm not sure if it's the 12th of never, the day they burned old Dixie down, or Blursday the Fortyteenth of Maprilay. It's like living in a time warp (do you remember doing it, shall we do it again)? We have all become prisoners of time. Dr Who without the travel, voyagers through the time tunnel without a final destination, Quantum Leaping into nowhere. Yes, there is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. They are controlling transmission. If they wish to make it louder, they will bring up the volume. If they wish to make it softer, they will tune it to a whisper. They will control the horizontal. They will control the vertical. They can roll the image, make it flutter. They can change the focus to a soft blur, or sharpen it to crystal clarity. No, this isn't The Twilight Zone, this is the real wowd (as The Jam once sang).

It's all repeats on TV time, canned spam fritter time, Keep Calm and dig in time, zombie time, apocalypse time, end of the world as we know it time. But what bloody time is it really? What day, which week, what month, is it still 2020 or 1918 or 1984 or is it Hammer time? (Yes, they can't touch me, hammer time).

Yes, Doctor, I'll come quietly. You want me to put this on? What a nice jacket. What are the straps for?

Surf's up...

It's Sunday and in time-honoured tradition, I considered a day of rest. A day of rest from the blog world, a day of rest from myself to get me in order. I thought about it (ponder, ponder, ponder) and then I realised there is no order any more, perhaps there never was. I can hardly remember what it was like a couple of months ago when you could go out whenever you wanted, have a drink at the pub, fly away on holiday, get as close as you wanted to another customer in the supermarket and not have to worry about anyone killing you (or you them) with their breath.

What great days, eh?

So Sunday, God's day, the holy Sabbath, church and bells and hymns and blessings. I'd go to church and pray, except the churches are all closed and prayer is no substitute for a vaccine. God must have got a flight and fucked off on holiday years ago or retired to a beach somewhere and forgotten what we are paying him in prayers for.

It's all very confusing and if I had a mind to lose I'd lose it all over again. Thankfully I'm as mad as a box of jumping frogs (hot dog and Albuquerque) and God tells me so every morning at my own private service. He always wears shorts and flip-flops, I guess it's his holiday look. I love his Wayfarers and he's got a great tan, but he stinks of rum and suntan lotion and he's always checking his watch (a not very good fake Rolex, probably bought in Egypt). Perhaps he's got a pilates class or a hot date or something. I hear that he's moved on from Mary and got himself a twerking Latino dancer with a massive omnipresent arse. 

What's that you say God? 'Surf's up dude'? Cool Godio, thanks for the information, it's about time you said something about something, anything, the conversation is a little one-way if I'm honest.

So okay, I think I'll take a day off and leave blogging for people with something wise and important to say. I might go to the beach, oh I can't it's closed. I wonder if God can get me a pass? He's got to be good for something. 

Train to Auschwitz...

I'll try to keep this simple after all, these are complicated enough times as it is and I do tend to see things as black and white to cries of oversimplification. So I'll start with a question which many won't like as we are not allowed to mention the war (as Basil Fawlty would have instructed us).

Here's my question; Were the drivers of the trains taking people to Auschwitz complicit in those terrible deaths or were they simply doing their job despite the fact that they could see and knew exactly what they were doing.

Were they part of it, or were they just doing as they were told? Is it a defence to say that if they didn't do it then somebody else would have done? Was it made okay because they weren't the only ones doing it - what about the engineer who greased the wheels of the train, the company delivering the coal to make the train run, the guard who blew the whistle so that the train could set off? Was it them too?

Okay, I'll tell you why I'm asking you to think about this. We are in a shitty mess, hundreds are dying each day and that is going to get a lot worse before it gets any better. Despite the government advice people are still flouting the instructions and going out, visiting friends, holding parties, and generally doing as they please. Well, why not? Everyone is doing it and I need my exercise so running is more important than other people's lives. Well, these are the people spreading the virus, each time they get too close to another person they spread the virus. Does this make their irresponsible behaviour okay? Isn't everybody (Jenny and Doug down the road) doing it too? Are they not driving the train?

The government (just put politics aside for a while) is trying to keep us all going. They are spending untold billions so that people can continue to live reasonable lives without too much hardship. Of course, that money has to come from somewhere and ultimately we will all be paying for this for years, perhaps decades, to come.

So what are companies doing to help? Well, many are doing nothing, making it worse, protecting their shareholders and management bonuses by laying off staff without pay. Weatherspoons is one example, but it's happening right across business and everybody knows what's happening. If companies, many of whom can afford to continue to pay their staff, look for every loophole so that they can to save a few quid, is it their fault? Isn't everybody doing it? And what about the people following the company instruction so that they can hang on to their own jobs, are they not complicit too? Are they not driving the train?

I'm hearing rumblings from the self-employed that they will come out of this with higher tax rates and the government is using this as a blunt instrument to find out about their tax fiddles. I've heard some complaints about how they have worked hard to build their business and now they can't trade. I hear silly mothers complaining that their kids are driving them mad and arranging group events so that they can dump the kids and get a 'mate' to do their hair. I see men meeting at the car park to have a kick about and 'of course' keeping two metres apart at all times. Are they not driving the train?

I know, let's blame the government for dragging their heels, for not making it clear, for giving confusing instruction, for giving us the opportunity to rip the country off. After all, it's not our fault, we are not doing anything that everybody else isn't doing, It's not our responsibility.

And there it is, that horrible word that nobody wants to accept, 'RESPONSIBILITY'. Of course, the train driver was responsible. Of course, he was guilty of driving people to the gas chambers. Of course, he was complicit in following his orders - he could have said no and accepted the consequences, he did have a choice and he did make one.

There, I told you I saw things in black and white. But I'm sickened by everyone involved in these scams and moans pretending that they are all squeaky clean when they've just stepped into the driver's cab. if you are helping drive the train then you are helping to kill people, end of. Don't do it. It's only going to come back and haunt you all your life and you will richly deserve it. Don't drive the train, don't even grease the axles, walk away from the train and accept your responsibilities. Stop being a part of the disease.

Pottering...

So here's my blog today. It's more of a blogette really, you know like kitchenette, caravanette, maisonette, luncheonette, but maybe not marionette.

The reason for its brevity is simple. It's been a sunny day, warm and bright, so I've spent my time pottering in the garden (10-4 in true tradesman style). I'm a pretty slow potterer these days, my pottering is half an hour on, half an hour sitting down, half an hour thinking about getting on again (also true tradesman style but without the nipping out for a few hours to get on with another job).

Even so, I'm happy with my progress. The old growing frame that I bought online about eight years ago and brought back dismantled from Manchester as panels and bolts is now remantled (well, if it's dismantled why can't it be remantled?), I've repaired it where it needed it (three 'it's in five words - a new world record!), replaced the screws, strengthened it, washed it down with Jeyes Fluid (I bloody love the smell of Jeyes), and very nearly level. I'm not sure what I'll grow in it yet, but probably tomatoes and peppers. My potato pots now have holes drilled in the bottom ready for planting next week and the wall baskets for my tumbling tomatoes are up on the fence. Pottering is hard and thirsty work and my screwdriver is pretty heavy, so I also had a couple of beers and a glass or two of red wine along the way as all good potterers do. So that's that. Nothing much else to report. Stay safe.

Don't panic...

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Out of my head....

I guess I started back at my blog at just the wrong time. It's so hard to focus on anything but this bloody virus thing, and I want it to be more than a journal about the end of the worrld. Just why I was so surprised when it hit is beyond my ken (as Kenneth Horne would exclaim - 'who?', you say). No, I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, I've watched the films, read the books, listened to the radio plays. But, (even though I was expecting it or something similar) it still comes as a bit of a shock to see the world unfolding so quickly.

Of course, some people thought I was off my head (no change there and they are not wrong) but I saw it hitting before it was accepted (just another way to say 'I told you so') so I was mentally and physically prepared. Did I have a premonition? I don't know, but I'd been experimenting with tinned food for months for the first time ever. Of course, I wish I'd prepared more (maybe a bunker, a crossbow, some animal gutting skills, more yeast and sugar), but I'm not running around like a headless chicken (sorry, killing animals myself isn't here yet) because I never said that it was just the flu and it's wasn't going to stop me doing what I wanted and needed to do. I knew it would. Well, here we are folks, we've arrived (told you so).

Two years ago I was in Barbados, staying in a treehouse, drinking rum, and watching the monkeys play in the grounds below. It was the first time I've ever seen fireflies by the hundreds (so magical). Barbados is full of pleasant surprises. Now I begin to wonder if I'll ever get back to what I think of as my (yes, my, I'm an arrogant git at times) island in the sunny Caribbean sea (there's a song in there somewhere) - and yes, I wish I was there right now. Well, at least I still have Paris - wait, I don't, will I ever even get to Paris again? I used to pop across for the day sometimes. Will those days ever return?

Well, so I don't have Paris either, but at least I have my memories, and pretty vivid they are too. I guess I'm privileged to have been born at a time where travel was so easy and affordable. I wonder if that will ever be the case again? For now, I'll stick to my garden and travel the world on my laptop and in my head (which I am out of). If I get abroad again that'll be good. If not, it isn't the end of the world - at least I don't think it is - just yet at least.

Anyway, I off to the beach to sit and have a few rums (in my head, I'm almost out of rum).

Keep safe people. Stay in.