The Coronavirus Diaries 26th September 2022, What Now?

My nose has, thank goodness stopped running like a tap, but as of yesterday evening I am very tired. I slept for ten hours last night. This is a worry as I have a ticket for Outspoken on Thursday evening and I want to be there. I shall test on Thursday morning and hope for no second thin pink line.

The weather, suddenly autumnal, has been achingly perfect for long country walks which of course I can’t take. Celia has brought me my shopping, Octavia called round with a risotto and side salad yesterday. I can’t say I am struggling. Both cats have been perfect companions. A&M return on Thursday, so my duties will end after breakfast. I shall miss the ever demanding Lola. MasterB is a pushover in comparison.

A short time ago I went out to break up a four way cat fight. Stumpy, Hartley, Romeo and Smudge were all embroiled in fisticuffs. My guess is that Stumpy picked on Hartley, who is in general fight averse, Hartley’s brother Smudge and Romeo both piled in. It made quite a noise. MasterB watched from the bedroom window and seems to have decided on an evening indoors.

I finished selecting photos for MasterB’s 2023 calendar today and have despatched them to the printer. There’s a limited print run, and I hope to keep the price to £8.50 again, plus postage and packing which I need to check out. Let me know if you are interested. Some will go to Belfast, some to Melbourne Australia, at least two to the US, one to Italy, one to France. It’s an international though exclusive club!

The news from Italy is not great. A neo fascist set to be prime minister. People here on twitter saying they agree with her views. Our new Prime Minister probably does too. As neither she nor the chancellor are stupid, I am struggling to understand why they are acting as they are. Simple greed? Have they decided the best thing to do is to milk this country for all it has, sharing the spoils with their pals while the rest of us starve, before rushing off somewhere else on the planet with their cash? If they intend to remain here, trashing the country doesn’t seem a great approach. Or maybe they like raw sewage in the waterways, people living in tents on any stretch of land, overburdened hospitals and collapsing infrastructure.

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The Coronavirus Diaries, 8th April 2020

Another lovely day. But the news is dire. The UK is predicted to have the highest number of casualties from Covid 19 in Europe, around 40,000. Just let that sink in. The Prime Minister is still in hospital. No one in the cabinet is apparently able to act while Johnson is unwell. Just let that sink in too. Think about that photograph of the first cabinet meeting following the general election where all the members just parroted back what Johnson had told them to say. Dominic Raab does not have full prime ministerial responsibility while deputising, with no power to take major decisions without cabinet agreement. On a scale of one to ten, how confident are you that the government is working effectively to contain this crisis? Me neither.

The language of war is still being deployed. Johnson is apparently fighting the illness. He has been described by Trump and Raab as strong. We are told he will beat the illness. This ignores the evidence that fit, healthy people with no underlying health issues are dying. It is as dangerous as it is misleading. Do not think because you work out at the gym every day that you will be immune. Do not think because you ae in your twenties you are immune. Do not think because you are Prime Minister you are immune.

You may have realised I am quite cross about this. I believe it has lead some people to act carelessly by lulling them into thinking this is a virus that only affects select parts of the community. It does not check out your bank account, your step count before taking hold. However, if you are poor, living in unsanitary cramped conditions, then you are more likely to become infected. There was a heart breaking interview on Channel 4 news the other night. A child sitting with her family outside her slum home in Bangladesh spoke calmly about the situation. She was maybe in her early teens, articulate, clear-eyed, intelligent, exactly the sort of child this world needs. Yes, she said, we know abut social distancing but here in the slums we all live so close to each other, we cannot keep two metres apart. Yes, she said, we know about how important it is to wash our hands, but we have no water, little soap. She seemed resigned, not angry. Presumably already at her young age understanding that for much of the world her life, the lives of her family members, or her friends and neighbours are regarded as so much collateral damage. Watch the piece here.