Injecting Bleach

President Donald Fart excelled himself yesterday when he speculated that ingesting or injecting bleach into the human body might be way of curing Corona virus COVID 19.

He really is marvellous entertainment value and no matter how bad things get here, at least we can console ourselves that our leader is better than a wet fart.

The Future

My predictions have been rubbish recently, but that doesn't stop me making another:
Once the lock-down is lifted, we'll see a rapid return to normal (a V shaped recession) with the economy bouncing back powered by massive pent-up demand. A nation that's been under house arrest for two to three months will definitely spend money.
That initial mini-boom is the followed by several years possibly as much as a decade of slow growth, much like the decade we've just had. Once again, ordinary people will have to pay for something that really isn't their fault. The difference from 2008 being that this time around it really is nobody's fault.

Oh and Donald Trump loses in November. 

It's Hard

On of the nicer things about the lock-down has been the weather, which has been sunny and often quite mild for the time of year.

Today was different; wet cold and cloudy until late afternoon. For the first time since the lock-down started I found myself feeling miserable and the confinement started to feel oppressive rather than just a nuisance.  To help us cope with the lock-down, and raise a bit of cash, several theatres are offering screenings of their latest plays.

Tonight it will cost us £4 to see the stage version of Flea Bag. Let's hope it's good.

KFC

Burger King, KFC and someone else have announced they are partially reopening, but the delivery is done by Deliveroo and someone else.

So this evening we tried to order some KFC. Not a chance! They weren't taking any orders, presumably having been overwhelmed with orders in the past 24 hours or so.

Sigh. No problem - we've ordered from The Woolpack instead.

Impressions

• Bird song - louder and more varied than before

• Empty roads, but filled with parked cars, often spilling over the drives and half on the pavements. Modern cars are so big and wide

• Empty pavements, and when someone approaches you, you give them a lot of distance - two meters is the recommended minimum

• Patient queues of widely spaced people outside supermarkets and grocery shops

• Quiet

• Low level anxiety, about health and wealth. 

• Missing friends and family and colleagues

• Working from home for weeks

• Watching the 5pm press conference from No 10. The minister (Boris Johnson is still convalescing at Checquers) is flanked by two scientific advisers

• Rather underwhelming video conferencing than promises more than it delivers

• Mourning cancelled sports events like Euro 2020, and Wimbledon

• Wondering when things will get back to normal, and how normal that normal will be

Linda Tripp

Amid all the gloom, the death of the disgusting and repulsive Linda Tripp came a welcome ray of sunlight.

No, I'm not arguing Bill Clinton wasn't a lecherous old goat, but the way Linda betrayed the trust of the very young Monica Lewinsky was truly evil. And Linda never had any regrets, at least publicly. As recently at 2016 the repulsive bitch was claiming that she saved Monica's life.

The world is a brighter happier place without Linda Tripp. 

Highest Death Toll

Today was a gloriously sunny one, albeit with a slightly chilly 10 mph breeze that made just sitting out in the garden a little unpleasant (working in the garden was fine).

But as the day drew to a close, it turned out that 980 British people had died from the virus today. Various models have predicted that we're likely to see the virus peak on Sunday April 12th, or a few days around then. Let's hope today's high number isn't exceeded ever again.

Thursday Applause

A few weeks ago someone suggested on social media that we all stand on our doorsteps and applaud the N.H.S. At some point last week or the week before it changed slightly to applauding the key workers.

No matter, it's a wonderful piece of solidarity that we participate in every week without fail - this week M brandished a saucepan and spoon and made a great din. Not too far away people were letting fireworks off.

I'm on holiday along with the rest of the country tomorrow for the Easter public holiday. As if to taunt us, the weather should be warm and sunny for much of the time.

Tough Day

Another tough day in the dining room, where I spent over eight hours working from home.

It's hard to describe how difficult this can be, with flickering images, bad sound and the connection going down at least twice a day.

In The Guardian today, someone in the USA has instructions on how to make a face mask from an old tee-shirt. This is apocalyptic - the stuff of nightmares. 

Bad Weekend

It was a bad weekend - nice weather and of course due to the lock down there was little chance to enjoy it.

The frustrating thing was my lack of motivation. There are fence panels to paint, cars to maintain, oil to order and collect... I did none of that - just stuck indoors and restless.

The Queen made an excellent broadcast to the nation on Sunday evening. Her speech writer(s) did an excellent job, and for once the delivery seemed a little less stiff and unnatural than previously. I particularly liked the reference to her first broadcast to the nation, accompanied by her sister Margaret, in May 1940. It reminded us that this 92 year old and her country had been through tougher times than this.

Boris Johnson has been taken to hospital, his condition has obviously worsened, and Catherine Calderwood, the impressive Chief Medical Officer of Scotland has been forced to resign due to a stupid mistake. She visited her holiday home 45 miles from Edinburgh, on consecutive weekends, breaking the law and her own advice. Not even the brilliant Nicola Sturgeon could save her. Why is it that such clever people can be so thoughtless?!?

Slightly Sinister

Two days ago I walked into town to put a birthday cheque into the bank.

Walking in there were a few cars that passed me and a few pedestrians to dodge around (we're supposed to keep a distance of 2m from each other).

Once in the pedestrianised town centre things got slightly frightening. My footsteps echoed off the buildings around me and there wasn't anyone around at all. The bank looked closed, but was open for 'essential services only.' A nice guy let me in and stood a safe distance away while I pushed the cheque into the machine and took the receipt.

Walking back, footsteps echoing again, reminded me of the celebrated opening scenes of "28 Days Later" or "The Day of the Triffids" where a man wakes up in hospital and finds the centre of London deserted.