It’s a strange world in the UK. Covid restrictions, although only guidance, are repressive – with any luck of the virus.
“Stay at home as much as possible, work from home if you can, limit contact with other people, keep your distance from people not in your household (2 metres apart where possible) and wash your hands regularly. Do not leave home if you or anyone in your household has symptoms.”
In our part of London the number of new people testing positive has dropped to fewer than twenty per 100,000 of population. I know I’ve got a better chance of getting Covid than winning £1 million on the Premium Bonds but meanwhile I just keep winning £25 “prizes” and it seems a long shot that I will catch the virus.
Meanwhile friends come to visit. Yesterday an old friend who reported that, sadly, his nephew had died peacefully aged eighty-seven. It was he, the friend not the nephew, who got me interested in observing international elections and yesterday I applied to go to Montenegro and Kyrgyzstan. It seems inconceivable that ODIHR will want to deploy Short Term Observers and then there is a question mark over the commitment of the FCO. However, I am prepared to do my bit to encourage democracy and exude soft power and bonhomie.
As a space filler I will mention what I gave Charlie for lunch. A gin and tonic to start, then chilled gazpacho out of a carton, anointed with olive oil and pepper, a glass of Manzanilla and a crusty baguette. Next I prepared a salad of garlic, peppers, red onion, pimento and lentils to serve with lamb cutlets dressed in olive oil and herbs. For “afters” Charlie had a Mars Bar ice cream and Bertie had cutlet bones.
Now I must turn to the elephant in the room – Brexit.