Talks Like June

june

June arrives like a whirlwind and it’s a month of juxtapositions. We welcome it in with glorious sunshine, stretching cerulean skies, and soaring temperatures; four weeks later, it leaves in a downpour of torrential rain and heavy, ashen clouds.

The tables turn and London and the South East floods, whilst the midlands and the North enjoy pleasant, dry days.

England revels in cheery celebrations of our beloved monarch’s 90th birthday whilst America mourns for those lost in its worst ever mass shooting, just a day after a young popstar is shot dead outside her own concert. It’s a month of guns: in England, an MP is shot dead in the street. A gunman enters a German cinema and is shot dead.

The build-up to the EU referendum bubbles away and reaches boiling point as the nation concludes: Britain will leave the European Union. A result that shocked everyone, even the leave campaigners.

Great Britain, that fabric of places and people all stitched together, is torn apart. Like the modern Prometheus, Farage and Boris lurk in the wings as Victor Frankenstein, building their monster with lies and half-truths, and it’s hideous, they run from their creation; you, my creator, detest and spurn me. They threw their torch into a pile of buildings, and now they are consumed, they sit among the ruins and lament the fall.

It seems that no one wants to take responsibility and no one knows quite where to begin.  Political chaos: Scotland and Northern Ireland want to stay in the EU, England and Wales want to leave, two-thirds of the Labour shadow cabinet leave, leader of the opposition Jeremy Corbyn won’t step down, David Cameron resigns as PM and we’ll get a new Prime Minister of Great Britain. (Which the people of Great Britain don’t get to vote on. Since 1997, we’ve only elected half of our Prime Ministers. Democracy, indeed.). The FTSE100 stock market crashes, the pound plummets, the economy is in freefall. The England football team strike out in Euro 2016. It is official: Great Britain has become a laughing stock.

Britain now enters unfamiliar waters. Here be dragons. (Send help.)

Roll our sleeves up and get on with it- where’s that Blitz spirit? The month rolls on. Wimbledon starts. The sun briefly returns. Children are lost and found again in the Welsh hills (weird, I know.) I had my hopes risen, then dashed in the continual search for a placement. (Let’s discuss: why won’t people reply to emails?). My blog still ticks over.

We kicked off the month with a recipe for lemon cake, a really easy bake for when you need cheering up (which was for most of June, really.) Next there was another biscuit recipe, as if we didn’t have enough last month, this time for hazelnut and toffee cookies (how great is the plate in the photo? I spent my holiday touring round the Algarve searching for that plate.) A trip to my Nan’s proved a source of inspiration in the form of malted milk cakes, and it also gave me the chance to try out my new mini cake tin, since mini cakes have been something I’ve always wanted to try. And finally, time to celebrate strawberry season with strawberry jam bars, a fun twist on something different to do with strawberries.

That rounds off the month of June. As I type this, it’s still raining, Boris announces that he won’t run for PM, and the UK economy is unlikely to get better. Remember when we all thought 2016 would be our year? It doesn’t seem likely. If we turn it off and on again, will that sort it out?

Goodness, June, how can July possible top it?

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