Wake Me Up When It's All Over... Read online

  Wake Me Up When It’s All Over . . .

  UNPUBLISHED LETTERS

  TO

  EDITED BY KATE MOORE

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  Family trials and tribulations

  A year in politics

  That’s entertainment

  Travel in lockdown Britain

  Home thoughts on abroad

  Sporting triumph and disaster

  Royal blushes

  Use and abuse of language

  Dear Daily Telegraph

  INTRODUCTION

  What happens after everything stops?

  That was the question facing the country as we headed into 2021; and it is one to which the answer is still being written. Like a faltering panellist on Just a Minute, this was a year full of hesitation, repetition and deviation. The outstanding success of the Covid-19 vaccination programme failed to secure the swift release from lockdown that some had envisaged. Deadlines were set and then missed; one set of restrictions replaced another. People hurried back to work only to be “pinged” by the NHS Covid-19 app and sent into isolation once more. The public might have been forgiven for wondering whether the Government’s “road map” back to normality had gone missing en route.

  Thankfully, Telegraph readers are made of stern stuff. During uncertain times, they have been an unfailing source of wit, wisdom and resolve. They excel in small, practical solutions to what bureaucrats see as large, intractable problems. Who else would see a parable for the Scottish government in their dealings with two squabbling Jack Russells, or a message for the Sage advisory group in the latest edition of Gardeners’ World? Whatever the story, the readers can be trusted to find the ridiculous side: indeed, in 2021, this was often the only sane way of looking at events.

  After all, this was the year in which the Prime Minister’s choice of wallpaper made headline news, and Britain nearly came to blows with the EU over sausages. Joe Biden entered the White House, Jeff Bezos left the Earth and the Sussexes sent increasingly bizzare signals from Planet Hollywood. On the subject of social distancing, the Health Secretary, Matt Hancock, spectacularly failed to practise what he preached. This was also the year in which by-elections – normally reliable ways of annoying the Government – swung both ways. In traditionally red Hartlepool, the Tories trounced Labour – while in true blue Chesham and Amersham, the Liberal Democrats toppled the Tories.

  In Covid Britain, many of the ordinary landmarks of life have looked different. Boris Johnson’s marriage to the mother of his child took place in secret. The funeral of the Duke of Edinburgh, who died just short of his 100th birthday, took place with royal ceremony but with no crowds – only the statutory congregation of 30. No one attended the Olympic Games – although, in a reassuring return to form, England was thrashed in the cricket and the UK managed a total of nul points in the Eurovision Song Contest.

  The unusual shape of the year can also be seen in the look of this edition. Letters about summer exploits abroad were, understandably, thin on the ground. Instead, we received regular updates on the view from people’s windows. Gardening, nature, homegrown exercise routines and amateur haircuts have all featured prominently. Ever optimistic, readers found things to like about face masks (excellent nose-warmers) and embraced the opportunity for new hobbies in a world of enforced inactivity. They have grappled with the latest rules on physical contact – are cuddles permitted as well as hugs? – and the finer points of Zoom etiquette. Add these to their thoughts on everything from sex and religion to the weather, and you have an idiosyncratic portrait of modern life in all its absurdity.

  The hopeful phrase of 2021 has been Freedom Day – hopeful, but elusive. We thought it might come in June. Then it arrived – sort of – in July, with more promised for August. People were still unsure whether or not to remove their masks. But it takes more than PPE and lockdowns to tether free spirits. In their letters to the Editor, Telegraph readers have sung like birds in a cage.

  My thanks must go to Katie Bond at Quarto, who stepped into the breach after I was “pinged” and confined to quarters as the book neared completion. Thanks also to everyone else at Quarto. At the Telegraph, thanks to Rachel Welsh for her legal wisdom, to Matt for his splendid cover illustration; to Michael Stenz and to the Letters Editor, Christopher Howse, for keeping a steady hand on the tiller.

  Most importantly, a big thank you to the readers themselves, for being such excellent company throughout the year that was and then wasn’t. It has, as ever, been a privilege to rifle through the postbag.

  Kate Moore

  London SE1

  FAMILY TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS

  If you can’t stand the heat . . .

  SIR – According to an article in the business section, “Kitchens are home to three billion rows a year”.

  My wife’s response to that was, “We obviously don’t have rows, as you are never in the kitchen.”

  Rather unfair, I thought!

  John Bryant

  Toddington, Bedfordshire

  SIR – My wife gets to read the main part of the newspaper while I read the business section. When handed the main part, I noticed that pages 21 and 22 were missing. Later I discovered them in a waste basket – to find that it was Michael Deacon’s article on “Why men should do less housework”. I suspect that I was not supposed to find this.

  Robert Ward

  Loughborough, Leicestershire

  SIR – Are tins of corned beef designed specifically to injure the person opening them? Asking on behalf of my wife.

  Colin Whitfield

  Stockton-on-Tees, Co Durham

  SIR – For almost 50 years we have had a jar labelled: “What is it?” in a kitchen cupboard.

  The contents are odd pieces of metal, plastic, washers, keys, etc.

  To date no one has ever been able to identify or find a use for any of these items.

  Angela Master

  Royston, Hertfordshire

  SIR – We were woken yet again in the early hours by the sound of a mountain of books crashing to the floor somewhere in the house. It occurs to me that such top-heavy piles could well prove a deterrent to burglars. They would never be able to negotiate a path to any valuables without causing a cascade.

  Not that there are any heirlooms, of course. Just lots of books.

  Lesley Thompson

  Lavenham, Suffolk

  SIR – My local bank manager told me that the three most stressful events in life are moving house, divorce and jumble sales.

  Tony Manning

  Barton on Sea, Hampshire

  A most gallant proposal

  SIR – My late husband was rather slow in the proposal department. I knew that things might be reaching fruition when he suggested I attended domestic science classes.

  Shirley Copps

  Cheltenham, Gloucestershire

  SIR – In order to get married next month I now have to carry out a government-mandated risk assessment.

  Isn’t that the purpose of courting?

  Alastair Prain

  London SW9

  SIR – My best man whistled the theme from The Great Escape all the way to the church before my wedding. My wife and I celebrate 40 years of marriage in June.

  Laurence Wilbraham

  Cawston, Warwickshire

  SIR – The evidence points – perhaps surprisingly for some – to married men living longer. For Ziona Chana, who died at the relatively young age of only 75, it seems his 39 wives proved a tad too exhausting and he is an exception to the rule.

  David North-Coombes

  Ottershaw, Surrey

  Years of service

  SIR – During our time in the RAF, a clock, a book
case and six wine glasses were added to the contents of married quarters when the rank of Warrant Officer was reached. We presumed that the powers that be considered that by the time that rank was achieved, service people and their families would have learnt to read, to tell the time and to not drink out of jam jars.

  Linda Fisher

  Gloucester

  SIR – The advantage of a left-handed wife is that if you seat her to my right my glass is never empty.

  Andrew Rollings Red

  Hereford

  SIR – The head of operations in this household gift-wrapped, most beautifully, a roll of gaffer tape for me to open on Christmas morning. I had asked for some fuse wire.

  Alexandra King

  Ibthorpe, Hampshire

  SIR – My wife never keeps things in case they may be useful in the future. Fortunately she has made an exception in my case.

  Julian Tope

  Portishead, Somerset

  SIR – Annoying habits appear in marriages with old age (I’m 78). For example, my wife complains about me constantly repeating myself. SIR – Annoying habits appear in marriages with old age (I’m 78). For example, my wife complains about me constantly repeating myself. SIR – Annoying habits appear in marriages with old age (I’m 78). For example, my wife complains about me constantly repeating myself. SIR – Annoying habits appear in marriages with old age (I’m 78). For example, my wife complains about me constantly repeating myself. SIR – Annoying habits appear in marriages with old age (I’m 78). For example, my wife complains about me constantly repeating myself. SIR – Annoying habits appear in marriages with old age (I’m 78). For example, my wife complains about me constantly repeating myself. I am sure my wife is mistaken in this. I am sure my wife is mistaken in this. I am sure my wife is mistaken in this. I am sure my wife is mistaken in this.

  T. H.

  Oulton, Norfolk

  Keeping faith

  SIR – After the online Sunday church service our vicar has set up a Zoom coffee get-together and he has the ability to “mute” us. My husband commended him on something he had never achieved in nearly 50 years of marriage to me.

  Susie Tweed

  Long Melford, Suffolk

  SIR – Every Ash Wednesday my older brother reminds me that, as a child, I selflessly gave up eating cabbage as my annual Lenten penance. I still do, although I now also eschew the delights of kale.

  William T. Nuttall

  Rossendale, Lancashire

  SIR – I considered giving up watching TV news for Lent.

  But realising that watching it really is penance enough, I abandoned the idea.

  Edward Pryce

  Plymouth, Devon

  SIR – I have decided to abstain from the following:

  Going to the pub

  Eating out in a restaurant

  Playing with my grandchildren

  Inviting my family for Sunday lunch

  Going to watch my favourite rugby team play

  I was wondering. If I give up five things this year, can I have the next four years off?

  Grant Jordan

  Basingstoke, Hampshire

  SIR – The Archbishop of Canterbury is on a sabbatical. I must admit that I hadn’t noticed.

  Stuart Geddes

  Monmouth

  Many happy returns

  SIR – Those of us who are about to twiddle our thumbs through a second lockdown birthday should be compensated next year.

  Between 23 and 28 March 2022, employers and teachers, family and friends should expect a period of high jinks and low productivity from members of this very select club.

  They can turn a blind eye or join in the fun, whichever is appropriate.

  Anna-Clare Seymour

  Wells, Somerset

  SIR – A little over 59 years ago, my mother gave birth to me at home. The attending midwife conducted some post-delivery checks, only to declare, “Hold on, there’s another bugger in there!” There were no scans back then, and my wholly unexpected brother duly arrived nearly 26 hours later. One of us got the cot; the other a dressing-table drawer.

  Keith Edwards

  Lincoln

  SIR – My father, a keen ornithologist, called his four sons Martin, Peregrine, Jay and Kestrel. My mother always wondered what a daughter might have been named.

  My daughter is Robin and she has Osprey and Kite as cousins. I tried to persuade her to call her son Albert Ross but she was not fooled.

  Jay Simson

  Amberley, West Sussex

  SIR – I have two daughters, and I am eternally grateful that I ended up at the ballet and not on a windy football terrace.

  Rev Roger Holmes

  Howden, East Yorkshire

  When your number’s up

  SIR – I have just signed up to donate my organs. Interestingly they requested my telephone number. I’m sure not to answer!

  Andrew Potter

  Bluntisham, Cambridgeshire

  SIR – Now that I am in my mid-eighties I have come to the conclusion that all my friends of similar age are in one of the following “d” categories: dead, dotty, disabled, depressed or deaf. I’m not sure if I’m dotty but I am deaf.

  Mary Valpy

  Malvern, Worcestershire

  SIR – My hearing not being what it was, I was interested to hear on the BBC News that this is Death Awareness Week.

  David de Lloyd

  Cardiff

  SIR – I have often wondered if TV advertising has any persuasive effect. After watching a plethora of those pushing funeral plans in which the actors are not just excited at their own forthcoming demise but thrilled at being able to pay the bills once they have shuffled off, I can report that they do work. After seeing so many I find I have lost the will to live.

  Jack Crawford

  Solihull, West Midlands

  Clean eating

  SIR – Last week I bought a packet of cleansing and descaling tablets for the lavatory pan, and noticed on the box that these were suitable for vegans. Could any meat-avoiding readers suggest a recipe, or sauce, to accompany these toilet blocks?

  Roy S. Goodman

  Ashford, Kent

  Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder

  SIR – While my daughter remains at home on an extended break from university, it is impossible to maintain a dry January. Besides, a dry February is a better choice. It’s a shorter month.

  Nigel Algar

  Bottesford, Nottinghamshire

  SIR – My “dry” January is going so well that I am thinking of extending it into Fe-brut-ary and perhaps as far as Sec-tember.

  James Fraser

  Staines-upon-Thames, Surrey

  SIR – A lot has been written about parents dealing with children during lockdown – but what of children dealing with octogenarian parents?

  I find they are just as likely to misbehave, but the threat of confiscating their respective bottles of sherry and whisky usually does the trick.

  Joanna Bunkham

  Swansea

  SIR – Pubs without beer is an oxymoron. If the Government opens hospitality venues without alcohol the stress will be on the moron.

  Victoria Cockburn

  Bishop’s Castle, Shropshire

  SIR – I see a new study has found that strangers who drink alcohol together move closer by 1 centimetre every 3 minutes. That is, 2 metres – the requirement to maintain social distancing – in 6,000 minutes. Even in my student days I never endured a drinking session as long as 100 hours. Obviously the volunteers at the University of Illinois are now made of sterner stuff.

  Sir Peter Innes

  Winchester, Hampshire

  SIR – I was seduced by the idea that natural wine was de rigueur. So I tried some.

  I now understand why it fell out of fashion in the first place.

  Robin Warde

  Duporth, Cornwall

  SIR – I will shortly be issued with a blue wheelie bin just to recycle glass. As I do not drink alcohol, my jam jar will fee
l lonely.

  Bernard Powell

  Southport, Lancashire

  SIR – For service in 1st The Queen’s Dragoon Guards in BAOR in the 1980s, the ability to remove the cork from a bottle of champagne with a sword was a necessary skill and rite of passage for all officers on joining the regiment.

  But we were completely outclassed by the arrival in the mess of a delegation of French cavalry, who performed the same trick with far greater panache using the base of a champagne flute. On removing the cork with the flute they were half a glass ahead of us, being immediately ready to consume, while we turned to find a glass. We soon changed our approach and customs.

  Edward Barham

  Rolvenden, Kent

  SIR – A few years ago on a touring holiday of the Hebrides we met a doctor from South Wales. He told us, “The golden rule is never to drink more than your GP.”

  For Christmas he had been given a book entitled 101 Whiskies to Try Before You Die, and only had a couple more to tick off.

  He stated that he had one of the most popular practices in the region.

  Stephen Graham

  Stockton-on-Tees, Co Durham

  The doctor won’t see you now

  SIR – When I was young I believed in the existence of GPs. They were the nice people who one visited in their grotto called, I believe, The Surgery. There one would be rewarded with nice things to make you feel better. Maybe once a year they would come to your home and, if you had been good, would hand out medicines.