The M1 was quite busy today, so I suspect that we weren’t the only ones out on a Christmas Mission. It was also grey, wet and miserable, but as we were heading into Yorkshire this was not a surprise. Northern weather is famous for its greyness, moisture content and humourless qualities and this was a prizewinning example of its type. When I say that when I win the lottery I’m going to buy a house in a desert, I’m not joking. Well, the “win the lottery” may have an ironic ring, but the “desert” part is heartfelt.

There were still quite a few lorries on the road, despite 5,000 of them being parked in Kent. The Great Kent Car Parking Scheme is, I think, giving us an insight into how the first days of Brexit will go. The only good thing I heard is that due to lorries being unable to come from the Continent there will be a lettuce shortage. This, as far as I’m concerned, is not a problem, and almost makes Brexit worthwhile. IT certainly underlines the unpatriotic nature of salad eating, and the carbon footprint generated by winter vegetarians. Eat carrots in winter, lettuce in Spring, when we can grow our own.

Any way, back to the desperadoes breaking lockdown regulations…

We travelled up, we travelled down. We moved a Covid-tested family member from one Level 3 area to another, where he will spend four days indoors (we will not be socialising with open windows, no matter what the government says) and we will do the journey in reverse.

I can’t say I have any feeling about being a criminal and I don’t think I’ve actually ceded much in the way of moral high ground to Boris Johnson.

I see on TV that they have been vaccinating Chelsea Pensioners, including a D-Day Veteran.

Only one day left at work then I get a week off. It’ll be  alot like lockdown but without the satisfaction of being paid by the Government…