“Let Them Eat Cake!”

So, here we go again. As we sat and listened to the Prime Minister’s announcement last night it felt like time had been rewound to March. The country is heading back into lockdown. All precautions and safety measures have failed, and Corona infection rates and death rates are back to the levels they were in April. Am I surprised? No, of course not.

During the original lockdown from mid-March to mid-June, we saw repeated instances of people ignoring the rules with little or no consequences to themselves. This made me angry because I felt it was unfair on the rest of us who were doing what we were told. To those of us staying home, only venturing out once a week for essential supplies, not seeing our friends and families, and coping as best we could with house arrest – the fact that so many treated it as one great paid holiday was disgusting and immoral. Yet they got away with it.

There aren’t enough police to manage the situation, we were told. Fine, I can understand that. So where were the army? Where were the TA? Weren’t the TA formed for exactly such situations as this? Hell, call out the military police from the air force if need be. The lockdown needed to be reinforced – severely reinforced – but it wasn’t. In my opinion, anyone caught breaking the rules should have had their furlough pay or benefits suspended. Maybe it’s hard line of me, but I felt my furlough was pay for obeying the rules, taking care, and STAYING AT HOME. It wasn’t so you could swan off to the beach, have vast barbecues and invite all your friends, or congregate in each others houses.

And now, surprise surprise, we’re all heading back into lockdown for at least a month, possibly longer. But once again the government is half-arsing it. Instead of a total and strictly reinforced lockdown of all but essential and key workers, it is vague and fluffy around the edges. Work from home, unless you can’t, in which case go to work. How are most firms supposed to interpret that? I fear most will take it to mean business as usual so public transport – especially in the cities, will be crammed as workers commute and spread the virus.

All schools, colleges, and universities to remain open. My jaw dropped at that one, and I simply looked at Miss F in disbelief. The places that we know to be absolute petri dishes for this contagion are places where children and young people are gathering in great numbers. Miss F comes back shaken and scared every time she has to go into her college. Although her and her friend wear masks and regularly sanitise their hands, not many others do, and there’s no reinforcing of the mask rule. There’s precious little hand washing, and absolutely no social distancing. The children are crammed into classrooms and are shoulder to shoulder in the public areas.

Then when they leave their places of education, you see them crowded together on the streets. There’s no social distancing, just bunches of young people hanging out together the way they always have done – all close to one another, touching, and in some cases, hugging each other.

So, tell me, BoJo, how is this supposed to work? The children go to their places of education. They mix and mingle with hundreds of other children, who in turn have mingled with hundreds of others. They pick up the infection on their skin, clothes, and hair. They then bring it back to their families sheltering at home. They infect them with the virus. The young person probably won’t get sick, or if they do, mildly. But the family member they infect may not be so lucky. And what about if that family member is the primary carer for an elderly or vulnerable family member, or their job is being a carer to sick, elderly, and vulnerable members of society?

Once again, the government don’t seem to have thought this through. If the lockdown isn’t going to be for all non-essential members of the society, then why bother doing it at all? Why not just leave us to take our chances?

After the announcement we discussed it. Miss F is afraid to go back to college and I one hundred percent support her decision. She is mostly homeschooling now anyway, so it seems pointless risking infection for the three hours or so a fortnight she has to go to college – only to find that her teacher couldn’t be bothered to turn up for class so the kids are crammed into another class, breaking all the social distancing rules.

Miss F’s feeling is that she would rather lose one month of lackadaisical and substandard education than risk losing me, or, at the very least, bringing home the infection and making me very ill. This is something I do have to seriously consider. At 53 I am not old, but neither am I that young. I’m not vulnerable, but this virus seems no respecter of how healthy or fit a person is. I am also the only captain of this ship. If I get sick, then there is no one else to do what I do. I cannot afford to contract a virus that could potentially affect my ability to work and support us for the rest of my life. I also do not want to die and leave my daughter alone. So, am I being selfish keeping her at home? Maybe. Do I believe it is justified and the right thing to do? Absolutely.

So, this is a message to the Prime Minister and all those other selfish, overpaid, idiots in power. OUR CHILDREN ARE NOT CANNON FODDER. IF IT IS UNSAFE FOR ADULTS TO BE OUT THERE, IT IS UNSAFE FOR THEM TO BE OUT THERE. END OF STORY!

I am already beyond disgusted at how this government has acted recently. Voting themselves a massive pay rise in a time when many are struggling to keep body and soul together is such a blatant slap in the face to those parents who cannot afford to feed their children. Many have lost their jobs due to the pandemic or have been left too ill to work. So many small businesses and industries have closed with the loss of jobs and income. So many in the entertainment industry have had their lives destroyed by this.

In New Zealand, all politicians voted to take a pay cut in solidarity of their people and in recognition of their suffering. That is true leadership. That is putting the needs of your people first. Did our politicians follow this sterling example? No, they did not. They greedily and selfishly demanded a large pay increase. As a reward for handling the situation so well, presumably!

On top of that, it has recently come to light that all politicians receive a £25 a day food allowance. £25 a day, every single day of the year!

I’ll give you a moment to process that. £25 a day! Each. Apparently, the poor dears can’t manage to feed themselves from their £80k+ a year salary. This is the same government that then voted against ensuring that no child is starving in the UK. Again, I’ll give you a moment to process that. They sat on their well-fed and well-padded backsides and said no to allocating £2.50 a day to give a free school dinner to every child that needed it during the half term holiday. They said no, whilst receiving a £25 a day allowance paid to them from OUR tax money to pay for their nom noms!

This is beyond disgusting. This is unethical and criminal. That a government can put themselves so far above their people is shocking in the extreme. I wonder, when someone informed BoJo that the people could not afford to buy bread, did he respond with “Let them eat cake”?

It took companies like McDonalds, Papa John’s, and other high street food chains to step in and offer free food to children. Across the country, food retailers heard the call and answered. And all I can do is shake my head in despair and say to the government, shame on you. Shame on you for so blatantly demonstrating that our lives mean nothing to you, our children mean nothing to you. And how dare you. How dare you take our tax money to pay for your three course lunches whilst others go hungry. You can afford to feed yourself and your families. On the money you earn you can afford to stop the £25 a day food allowance and direct it to a more worthwhile cause. Because at the end of the day, if I can afford to live, pay my bills, and feed my family on less than £13,000 a year – I know that you can do it on £80k+.

It is rare that I rant about anything as controversial as this. And I know that there are many out there who will not hear a bad word against the government. Who are staunch supporters and cannot see anything wrong with how the government has handled the situation. I agree, it is an unprecedented scenario. I agree, no one should have to deal with it. I agree, many difficult and hard decisions had to be made, and I wouldn’t have wanted the job. But this is the job they wanted. They wanted to be the leaders of our country. So, all I am saying is LEAD US WELL.

Even the most ardent supporter must look at their recent behaviour and begin to doubt that the government has our best interests at heart. Surely, anyone who is a grandparent or has children in their family must have listened to the announcement last night that all places of education were to remain open and despaired. And even the most hard-hearted and uncaring individual must agree the unfairness of a government that would quite happily leave children to starve whilst sipping a cheeky little Bordeaux wine over their slap-up, paid for lunch. Paid for by us, don’t forget.

I am sorry if I have offended anyone. But this is something I feel needed to be said. We are living in dark and strange times, and these are the days we should be all pulling together. Yet the gap between wealthy and poor has never yawned so widely.

I am late writing this blog because I was in two minds whether to post it or simply delete it and post something light and inconsequential. I am an author, and as such have never felt I have the right to use my social media standing as a platform to air my views – be they political, religious etc – but, I am also a mother and a tax-paying resident of this country. I am directly affected by the events that are happening around me and I cannot stay silent on this.

I am not an extremist. I am not a radical. I am simply a person who wants everyone to be treated equally and fairly. Sure, let the politicians keep their £25 a day food allowance – but only if we ALL get that same allowance. I manage to feed two of us and a cat on £50 a week, so that would amply pay for all our food and all our other bills. And as for the argument that politicians work long, hard hours – so do doctors and nurses and retail staff and construction and factory workers – but they are expected to pay for their own meals. The average nurse earns less than £18,000 a year and yet still have to pay the vastly inflated prices in the hospital canteen if they want a hot meal in the middle of a twelve-hour shift.

There is so much that is rotten and unfair in our country. Many of us work hard for little pay, and struggle with ever increasing food prices and utilities. Just keeping the lights on and food on the table can sometimes consume almost a whole monthly wage and it is a constant struggle. What else can you cut down on? Turn off the heating, put on an extra jumper, do without breakfast so your child can have something to eat, work extra shifts, all just to get by. And all the time, those who are at the top of the food chain squeeze even harder, desperate to wring every last penny from us to pay for their own luxurious and indulgent lifestyle.

It is wrong. So very wrong.

But I do not see change coming anytime soon.

I apologise to those of you who tuned in expecting the usual A Little Bit of Blake, and I promise that normal service will be resumed next week. But I had to get this off my chest, and I thought the six of you who read my blog wouldn’t mind if this once I used you to let off steam.

Wherever you are and whatever you are doing, keep your families close and please stay safe.

Julia Blake

Happy Easter from Julia Blake

I know it’s late for my blog to be going out, for which I’m sorry. But this week has been so full on busy that by the time I stopped to even consider what I could write about, it was gone 6pm last night and I was tired, so I’m afraid I shrugged my shoulders, said “meh” and made myself a gin and tonic.

So, what has filled this third week of isolation, I hear all six of you who regularly read my blog, cry. Well, Monday I began on my mucky kitchen. Like most busy, working mothers I cruise by with a lick and a promise. I clean the bits that show and promise myself that one day I’ll have a real thorough deep clean. Now, I used to religiously do this either once a year or between lodgers, whichever came first, but, the last three years have been ones of ill health, hospital stays and upheavals in my working life, and I’m afraid spring cleaning got pushed further and further down the list.

I now had no excuse. No work to go to, no social gatherings or events to keep me occupied, this was really it. I had to prove that all those times I’d claimed not to have the time to clean were justified, because now I had the time, lots of it, so if I didn’t clean then it would show I’d simply been lazy, not busy.

So, Monday, everything removable came out of my kitchen and was piled up in the dining room. Then it began. Now, as every women (and the odd man, maybe) knows, in order to clean properly first you have to make a big mess, as I tried to explain to Miss F when she wandered downstairs later and stared in disbelief at a stripped bare kitchen and a trashed dining room.

“Thought you were tidying?” she muttered.

“I am,” I replied through clenched teeth. “But to do it properly you first have to make it worse.”

It took me two and a half days to deep clean my kitchen, and it’s not even a particularly big one, but taking every single thing out of a cupboard, scrubbing inside the cupboard, and then cleaning and putting everything back before moving onto the next one, takes time. I also didn’t push myself. There was no need, after all, I had no deadline other than wanting it all done before the weekend, so there was no urgency to start at daybreak and keep going until I dropped. I started at a sensible time and had lots of breaks.

I finished midday on Wednesday. Took a deep breath, then started on the painting. Now, I can tell you exactly when my kitchen was last painted – June 2010. I know this, because Miss F had gone away with her grandparents to Disneyland Paris for five days. I had taken the week off and everyone assumed I’d go away myself, or at the very least enjoy a much-needed rest. Don’t be silly, that’s not how we roll in my shire.

Monday morning, I did the weekly shop as usual, then went to visit my parents and then went to my goddaughter’s birthday party. Tuesday the new bed and mattress I’d ordered for Miss F arrived and my dad came in and helped me relocate her old bed into the spare room and assemble the new bed, all ready for when she came home. Wednesday, I cleaned the house from top to bottom, all except the kitchen. Thursday, everything came out of the kitchen into the dining room and I deep cleaned the whole kitchen as I’ve been doing this week. It took a single day back then. Well, it was ten years ago, I was ten years less tired, it was pre-surgery and illness days and I started at 7am and didn’t stop for anything until it was done.

I went out with a friend for dinner in the evening, enjoying a rare opportunity of not being stuck at home with a young child every night. Whilst at dinner, Miss F phoned me in a state of sugar induced excitement – yeah, thanks grandma – to happily inform me she was having a great time, and no, she didn’t think at 9pm she should be in bed yet, oh, and she now loved French food, Really? I asked. What sort of French food? French fries and chicken nuggets, she shrieked. Ah yes, those well-known French culinary delights.

Friday, I made a ridiculously early start and gave the kitchen two coats of paint and got every back in place before a sleepy, sweaty and distinctly smelly Miss F was delivered back to me at 11pm. Barely noticing her new bed, she was tumbled into it as she was and slept until almost midday on Saturday. When she woke, she scrambled into my bed and that’s where we spent most of the day and I read practically the whole of “The Wolves of Willoughby Chase” to her.

So, it’s been ten years since the kitchen was last painted and although it didn’t look too bad, the opportunity was there, the kitchen was clean to its bones and all possessions were piled up in the dining room, so I decided to go for it. I got the first coat done on Wednesday and the second on Thursday. Giving it a day to dry before piling everything back in. Miss F walked in to inspect and pass judgement.

“Well, it certainly looks a lot cleaner and fresher, but the colour…” she wrinkled her nose in thought. “Isn’t it exactly…”

“The same colour as it was before? Yep.”

Somehow, even though ten years separated the purchases, I’d managed to buy exactly the same colour. Well, what can I say? I’m obviously someone who sticks to what she likes. I liked Happy Sunshine yellow back then and I still like it today.

I’ve also, between working on the kitchen, been busy with last minute preparations for the re-launch of Erinsmore next week. I am beyond thrilled with how it’s turned out, the book looks amazing and the wonderful Becky and James Wright over at Platform House Publishing have made a simply awesome video trailer to help launch day go with a bang. If anyone is reading this who follows me on social media, I would be extremely grateful for any help with the release of the book. Any shares of the video or other promo posts would be amazing. I spent all my spare pennies on the actual book and the video so there’s not really any money for advertising, so anything anyone can do to help will be very much appreciated.

I’ve been out of the house precisely twice in the whole week. Both times to top up with essential items. Being very reluctant to drive to one of the bigger supermarkets, I’ve confined myself to a quick scuttle up town and foraging for what I could carry home. Shopping now really has turned into a game of PacMan. Avoid all contact, grab the food, take any route to avoid touching others. Sometimes, in the stores though, it’s so hard to stay 2m away from people in the aisles. They are not designed for social distancing and some people don’t seem to care that they’ve crowded into you. All you can do is wear the horrible latex gloves, hold your breath, make yourself as small as possible and scurry past.

On the whole I think I am handling isolation incredibly well. In fact, I’ve been so busy I seriously don’t know how I ever managed to find time to go to work, or how I’m going to be able to go back. The key for me is having a routine and structure to my days. I get up at a sensible time, before 8am every day. I face each day washed, dressed, teeth cleaned, and hair brushed – I simply couldn’t be one of those people who slob about unwashed in their PJs for days on end. To me, PJs = sleepy time.

Over my morning cup of tea, I plan my day. For years, I’ve had a to-do list as long as my arm of things I meant to do when I had the time. Well, I have that time now, so I’m working my way through that list. When and if I reach the end of that list, if we are still in lockdown, then will be the time to relax, kick back and tackle my to be read pile and catch up on all those Netflix shows I never have time to watch. Until then, I will and must work.

We are all handling this in our own way, but for me, personally, I simply don’t see the point of sitting at home whimpering about how stressed and bored I am. Whatever awfulness is going on outside my own front door, other than obeying isolation and social distancing rules, there is nothing I can do about it. And sure, maybe spring cleaning and painting my kitchen won’t do anything to change the global situation, but it will keep me busy and active and at the end of it all, I’ll have a clean and freshly painted kitchen. What will all those coach potatoes in their PJs have? Apart from extra weight to lose and a feeling that they wasted the precious gift of time they were given.

Miss F isn’t faring so well. Like most teenagers, her life revolves around education and her friends, and although she was given a couple of projects to complete, she is more or less done with college for the year so has nothing academic wise to occupy her days. Sure, she can and does interact with her friends virtually, but as she constantly informs me, it’s not the same. She also has a real reluctance to leave the house, so doesn’t even accompany me on my once a week shopping trips. She’s even loath to venture out into our private garden unless I actively force or bribe her to go out there – and yes, I do bribe my child, frequently and without compunction.

I’m a little bit at a loss as to how to help her. All my suggestions such as read a book, tidy her room, start a project of her own based on her studies, are met with derision and scorn, so I’m afraid I’ve given up and am letting her stew in her own juices. I had thought my example of keeping busy and improving our environment would encourage her, but no, so what can I do. Hopefully, she’ll get bored of endless Minecraft sessions and will do something a little more productive with her days, but, she’s a teenager, so maybe channelling her inner sloth is her way of coping. Hey, to quote Miss F herself, you do you babe.

And so here we are on another Sunday. It’s now 9:30am, I am sitting at my little desk in my very pleasant lounge where the morning sun is streaming through dirty windows – yes, spring cleaning the lounge is on my list for the coming week. I have coffee and I’m talking to you, and it’s also sofa and snack Sunday. Every Sunday, I do essential chores until midday, then stop and put a part-baked baguette in the oven and grill lots of bacon. I then rendezvous with Miss F on the sofa in the lounge and we binge watch films all afternoon, interspersed with frequent snacking. This week I managed to source some Pringles and sweet’n’salty popcorn. And as the afternoon turns into evening, I open a bottle of wine and we have pizza, wedges and dip for dinner.

I look forward to Sunday all week, but know, if this was something we did every single day it would quickly grow monotonous and boring, but because it is a once a week treat, it’s become something special for us. We’ve been working our way through all the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings and have the big finale film today. After that, it will be Miss F’s turn to choose the films we’ll binge, she was talking about doing all the Marvel movies in order and I’m up for that.

And it’s not just any old Sunday, it’s Easter. I know a lot of people are upset that the churches won’t be open, and although I’m not religious myself, I can understand why they are upset. But it is to protect the weak and vulnerable and I’m sure Jesus would be up for that, after all, isn’t that what he and Easter are all about? Whilst working in my kitchen I had the radio on all day so listened to a lot of news, and discussions were plentiful about whether churches should be open today for private reflection or not. It was decided to keep them closed, and personally I think that’s a good call. After all, if people can’t be trusted not to keep congregating in large groups all over the place, I think if people knew the churches were open, even those who never normally set foot in them would suddenly come over all pious and crowd into them.

One minister in an interview on the radio, said this might be a pivotal moment for Christianity. Attendances at church have been steadily dropping, yet now, during these difficult times, many are turning to religion for comfort and companionship and are finding new ways to congregate and worship. There is a world of connectivity out there now, and this seems to have forced the church to catch up with all the possibilities available. Who knows, maybe virtual worship is now here to stay.

For non-Christians and those who are not religious, Easter can still be celebrated for its more pagan, ancient meaning. It is believed that the early church did its usual trick of poaching existing pagan celebrations to make this new religion more palatable to the masses. Easter probably derives from the worship of the pagan goddess Eostre. This lady was all about Spring, rebirth, renewal and fertility – where did you think all the bunnies and eggs came from – so that’s why she is venerated at this time of year.

It’s a neat theory, and one that makes sense and that I like. In the Western hemisphere this time of year is all about survival and rebuilding. In ancient times Winter was a very dangerous affair, it was cold, and the nights were long and dark, food was scarce and the sheer act of staying warm took incredible amounts of energy and time. To have emerged alive on the other side into Spring would have been a massive accomplishment, one worthy of giving thanks for.

Anyone else see the parallels with today’s situation? We are going through a long, tough and dark time, hopefully, the first small shoots of recovery are there though. We just need to hang on a little longer, stay strong and give thanks that it wasn’t worse than it was. Yes, the death rates are scary and heart-breaking, but, compared to previous pandemics (anyone doesn’t believe me, look up the numbers for the 1919 Spanish Flu outbreak) we got off lightly.

Also, there are some silver linings. People are learning a new appreciation of the small things in life, and perhaps are realising that at the end of the day what matters are your family and having shelter, food and drink, and that’s basically it. We have also gained a massive appreciation for all those amazing people working in the medical field and all other essential areas. The NHS, in particular, heard the call and answered wholeheartedly. When this is all over, they should and must receive pay rises to reflect their status in our society. After all, during the crisis, who you gonna call? Your accountant? Your banker? No, a doctor or a nurse. So, let’s stop paying them pittances and afford them the respect they truly deserve.

Also, nature is taking a long, deep breath and is attempting to renew itself without the ever-constant presence of us polluting the air, land and sea. Anyone else feel it’s almost as if the Earth threw its hands up in despair and said – “right, I will bloody make you all stop for a while”. Small things maybe, but hopefully enough to make us take a long hard look at our lives, the way we live them and the impact we are having on the planet.

Anyway, that all went a little preachy there didn’t it, the Gospel according to Julia, sorry, totally didn’t mean to go down that avenue, but then this blog is simply an outpouring of me onto the page. No filter, no editing, no read through and no pre-planning or thinking. It’s just me, now, talking to you all on a beautiful Easter Sunday morning.

It’s now 10am and my blog is really, really late being posted, but I trust you will all understand and forgive me – all six of my regular readers.

Take care of yourself and your family.

Stay safe.

Julia Blake