North End, Middle Pier

Rather a fine morning, but I was indoors listening to a virtual tour of Jaffa by Yigal Elhanan, an activist in Combatants for Peace in Israel. Invited by the Londoners. Interesting, but overlong out and a bit disorganised. Come afternoon, I took myself off for a stroll which ended at the north end of the yard at my mast where I had great satisfaction in running down a new coaxial and a two core wire. More work to do of course, as it wouldn’t do to accomplish all my tasks while this lockdown has a while to spin out.
I must say I don’t quite get what’s happening out there in virus infected land. Only a small percentage of people have been exposed, right? (Or is that wrong?) But we’re gradually going back to old ways and yet we’ve somehow reduced the transmissibility of this thing so that stuff that was risky is no longer risky. If we hadn’t, we’d all be ready for the hospital, or in-firm-areee. But that’s not happening. So what’s the logical explanation? It’s just gone away into wee pockets of infected folks? We’re mostly immune? It’s had enough of humans and is going back to bats? Screwed if I know.
Anyway, 4pm and Cummings was sent out, mea culpa, to the rose garden to bare his soul and rend his garments, an astonishing turn of events. Has he done enough? A million people can tweet, sign petitions, opposition politicians can make their statements, but what do Tory backbenchers think? Has he done enough?