We went to Mars ... and crashed back down to earth

Did you see that? A team at Nasa have built a lovely little helicopter, named Ingenuity, which last week made not just one but two successful flights on Mars. They are attempting a third today. I found this all very impressive and heartwarming. Heartwarming in the sense that, in the middle of this awful pandemic, the human race has continued to strive, to learn, to push boundaries.

The Mars team have a really accessible website where they explain what they're doing and why. It also invites you to "Meet the Martians", ie. the team involved in this work. Here's Ingenuity in flight.

Unlike much of the rest of this week's media coverage, I'd say this achievement was truly newsworthy.

"News: Newly received or noteworthy information, especially about recent events."

"Nasa flies helicopter on Mars" - News.

"Tourists may face 6 hour queues (in July)" - Not news. Speculation.

"Dominic Cummings gets his own back" - Not news. Juicy gossip, of particular interest to political journalists.

Meanwhile here on earth ...

Where there's a will ..there's a will

The thing about those clever people at Nasa is that they didn't just come out and say "We are going to fly a helicopter on Mars", they went a few steps further. They assembled a team with all the right qualifications, set aside some budget and made a plan. They clearly understood that however confident you are when you make grand statements, unless you have some actions up your sleeve nothing much will happen.

Unlike the not so clever politicians.

Take Jean Castex. He's the French prime minister and we're seeing an awful lot more of him than usual. The publicity loving Macron is making himself more invisible than Gavin Williamson, on account of his disastrous handling of the pandemic and despite being a (self-proclaimed) expert in virology. Hence old Jean gets rolled out to make any new proclamations.

Three days ago, he announced that the "Third wave seems over ..." . Which I'm relieved to hear. Flying a helicopter on Mars is inspiring but to be honest all I really want to do is jump in my car and drive through the tunnel to France sometime soon.

The problem is that no-one seems to have told the pesky virus that its days cavorting around the Fifth Republic are over. 30,000 + cases yesterday. Someone please get a grip.

Over Before it Began - I

At least Jean gets to take to the podium. Unlike poor Allegra Stratton. Talk about a bum deal. Regular readers will know that we were waiting with great anticipation for her to take the helm at the Government's new, West Wing style press briefing. Our very own C J Cregg.

First it was delayed, then Chris, Jenny, Jonathan and Patrick took over the briefing sessions with their powerpoint graphs and serious faces, and now we hear the whole thing has been abandoned. Allegra has gone from being Downing Street press secretary to "spokesperson for COP26 president Alok Sharma".

COP26, somewhat inexplicably, is the name of the Climate Change summit happening in Glasgow later in the year. Whilst it's obviously a hot topic, no-one is going to convince me that Allegra is feeling pretty delighted and excited about all of this. I know a few good employment law experts if she's interested.

Over Before it Began - II

Do not get me started. Do you remember when the Duke of Edinburgh passed away? Thousands of people complained to the BBC about the "rolling coverage". I think the corporation had the temerity to spend a few hours covering the life and death of the man who had been married to the Queen for the last 70 odd years. (He did actually die, by the way).

Unlike the bloody European Super League or whatever it was going to be called. Which isn't actually happening. Hours of TV, pages of coverage, day after day. Even Boris to joined in (it must have come as something of a relief as it distracted from the growing mutterings about his forthcoming home furnishing scandal).

Didn't hear of any complaints about this. Somehow endless speculation about a football competition is entirely justified.

Double Standards

Can you recall, a few weeks ago, when some women wanted to mount a vigil on Clapham Common over the death of Sarah Everard. Clearly a massive "superspreader" Covid risk, not to mention the threat of violence and civil disruption. Little wonder that the Met took to the Courts to prevent the whole thing happening.

Thousands of football supporters, angry at proposals for this super league thing, plan to march on their football clubs? Totally different matter. No policing, no injuctions, no social distancing, no fuss.

And clearly, the beautiful game is so important to our future that the Government had announced a "FAN-led review into football governance, ownership and finance."

I expect it will have a similar level of funding to the "WOMEN led review into the safety of women on our streets". (The sharp eyed amongst you will notice that this isn't a hyperlink because of course there is no such review. No need. They are putting some plain clothes policemen into bars and nightclubs so that should be that.)

To Go or not Tokyo

Sorry about that. Where's your thinking now? I'm even more pessimistic than I was about the chances of the Games happening.

The Japanese Government has announced a two week state of emergency to curb the spread of the virus in Tokyo, which they say will be "Short and Powerful". I refer Prime Minster Yoshihide Suga to the points made above. Just because you say something, does not mean it will actually happen. However convincing you are. I fear he's on the same planet at Monsieur Castex.

Happy Birthday to Us

Whilst Ingenuity was undeniable impressive, what really lifted me up this week was a totally different achievement. My book club turned 17. I know this because I was pregnant with my son when a woman I only vaguely knew asked me if I'd like to join. I'd now count her amongst my closest friends.

We've had babies, raised young adults, dealt with death, divorce, physical and mental health crises, lost jobs, found new jobs, set up businesses, and, obviously, lived through a pandemic. I thought the thing I was most looking forward to after restrictions began easing on 12th April was going to the pub. I was wrong. It was seeing my friends.

There is nothing quite like female friendship for seeing you through the ups and downs of life.

By the way, in case you're wondering, not to be outdone, our husbands and partners also started a club at the same time. They were far too busy to be reading books so theirs was a film club. They met once. Argued about the film. Fell out. Never did it again.

Here's to the Future

If that wasn't enough to make me feel old, how about this.

We went out (out out!) to a new restaurant on Friday evening: part of a club that's opening in what was the office building where I first met my current husband (I say "current" because I did once have another, not because I'm planning on having any more).

This was 21 years ago. We thought it was the best place to work in the whole world. The offices were ahead of their time - all open plan, cool little booths for confidential phone calls, a "conversation room" with a fish tank when you needed a private word, meeting rooms with wash wipe boards, hot desking for everyone. What could possibly ever go wrong?

The lesson? Nothing lasts forever, not even a global pandemic (hopefully). Time moves on, circumstances change, kids grow up, you get older. So I don't know about you but I'm going to be spending this week looking forward.

So let's look to the future, folks. Let's take the good bits from this last twelve months - and there have been some - and create something better for our futures. The roadmap still appears to be on track, we should be able to meet up with our friends, indoor dining possibilities may open up very soon, it MAY even get a bit warmer, you never know.

I'm reading: Lilian Boxfish Takes a Walk (it's the book club book - can't let standards slip after 17 years now can we)

I'm watching: Mare of Easttown. Or at least I will be when someone helps me get into the SkyGo account. Can't remember the user name or password and the rest of the family currently refusing to sort it out.

I'm listening to: Obsessed with Line of Duty the podcast. I'm not actually obsessed at all but it does help make a bit of sense as to what's gone on.