We all know, pretty much, what it means to be alive. Humans and animals are alive; so are plants and trees in a different way; rocks are dead. But are there different degrees of being alive? Is the life of a fit healthy 35-year-old, for example, more or less valuable than a premature baby or a 105-year-old person? Not in my view it ain’t, which is why I have always been so opposed to both abortion and euthanasia. A human life is a life; is a soul; and we must honour and preserve it no matter who it may be.

But is a human life more important than an animal? Of course it is. I am a meat-eating countryman and have no shame that every steak I eat, every rasher of bacon, means that an animal somewhere or another has died. Yet I swerve like mad to avoid hitting a pheasant on the road. Despite that I strongly support the right of countrymen to shoot them for food; and if that’s too controversial for you, almost no-one objects to a trout being caught and killed for supper. Dogs and horses are sacred to me, but I am only too pleased to kill a rat, of which we have had a minor infestation lately; and all of us would gladly swat a mosquito, or trap wasps in homemade jam jar traps. So leaving aside Buddhists, life is, at least to some degree, comparative rather than absolute.

I feel the same about Lockdown. It’s been a strange old time; and life is nothing like normal. We Brits particularly have made the best we can of it; we have tried to find the benefits from the enforced stay at home; but it has not exactly been very full-blooded. We can’t go on this way.

The Government are walking a delicate tightrope between honouring all life for what it is- a life; keeping everyone safe as best they can; yet at the same time they have to get life back to some kind of vague normality. They have to get the economy going again, get students back to school and University. It takes baby steps along that tightrope- comes close to falling off from time to time; finds itself walking backwards occasionally. But by and large it is inching towards a solution to the greatest National crisis in a generation.

Parliament’s back, although the current structures and procedures seem to me to be lifeless and to risk failing to hold the government to account or scrutinise legislation properly. I am still working at home for another week or two recuperating from my op. But I am also puzzled by the notion that we should all congregate in London, risking spreading the disease (aided by the Extinction Rebellion youths lurking outside); but that we should not be able to do our jobs properly when we get there because of social distancing rules in the Palace of Westminster. I am doing as good a job as I can remotely from Wiltshire; my constituency work is as ever fully up to date, and I am influencing as best I can from afar. I am not clear that a physical presence in a barely functioning Parliament would make that any more effective.

We all just need to keep on keeping on. Do what we can to live as normal a life as we can. Take little risks to nudge life along, while always observing the Covid rules without which we could quickly spiral back into a crisis. Determination, doggedness, Vera Lynn, Dunkirk Spirit- these are the old British instincts.

Or in the old words of the Bee Gees:-

“Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin'
And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.”

School’s back, and ‘To wear or not to wear’ will (not) be the question debated in Malmesbury Academy which I visited over the Recess to see the preparations they are making for the whole school getting back next week, (a staggered return on 2/3/4 September). They – and I am confident all of the schools across North Wiltshire - have put in place carefully thought through plans for a fully operational timetable, with all due safeguards for students and teachers alike, and I salute them for the magnificent work they have done. Face masks, of course, are voluntary, leaving aside those areas of England in Lockdown where they are compulsory. My own view is that they most definitely should NOT be worn in classrooms but may well have a real or psychological utility in communal areas like corridors. Meanwhile the A Level crisis seems to have blown through, thanks to the Government listening to very real concerns such as those expressed so widely around here, although there is of course a knock-on crisis to be had in University Admissions Offices.

Parliament’s back next Tuesday, but we have yet to see whether we have been as sensible and well-prepared as local schools are. I have told the Whips that I do not approve of the mildly discriminatory arrangements we had in place before the Summer Recess - only 50 MPs in the Chamber at any one time, idiotic voting arrangements and so on. I have joined the Committee which arranges these things- the Procedure Committee; so they can expect some straight talk from the HM for North Wilts at the first meeting!

I will have to continue working from home for at least the first week back to finish my recuperation. The operation was a huge success- discharged after only 24 hours, which is a bit of a record (with some gentle persuasion, I have to admit.) Just got to be strict about my exercises now and I will be fighting fit in no time. Hip Hip Hooray, if that is not too corny!

I’ve been holidaying, recuperating and self-isolating right here in North Wiltshire, amongst other things doing a bit of research into Philippa’s ancestors. I am fascinated to have discovered one, Captain William Tucker RN, who commanded the Navy’s West Africa Squadron around 1840, combatting continuing slaving operations by the Portuguese and Spanish. The Squadron captured 1500 slaving vessels and emancipated 150,000 slaves as a result. Philippa’s great (x 5) grandfather then rather tragically drowned on his way home in 1842 when the merchantman, Reliance, on which he had hitched a lift hit rocks in the Bay of Biscay. “Rule Britannia. Britain never, never, never will be slaves.” Not only that but we should be proud of the role that our Royal Navy played in liberating so many, at a cost of 2000 British lives including Captain Tucker.

So yes - I’ll be singing it; and Jerusalem and Land of Hope and Glory as well.

Everyone’s had a bit of a break post-lockdown, and I really do feel that Parliament, schools, business, all of us, must now do what we can to try to get back to some kind of new normality. The PM, and Gavin Williamson alike deserved their holidays, and it is a shame that Boris’s midge and whisky adventure in the far North West of Scotland was prematurely ended by the paparazzi, tipped off no doubt by local people, who may well have their own agenda! No one thrives on 24/7 for the whole year, and no matter who we are we deserve a bit of a breather.

But for me- I’ve now had more than enough R and R and am champing at the bit to get back into discussing the vitally important issues facing the country as we struggle to recover from Covid.

We think that we have been through a lot over the last few months. And many of us have. Those who have suffered from this terrible disease, those who have lost relatives and friends to it; nurses, doctors, care workers in long-term residential homes and so many others must feel as if they have been through the mangle.

Yet for most of us- so far – it’s been a series of (embarrassingly not too unpleasant) phases. Back in March there was a sense of shock, then a kind of Dunkirk spirit, typified, perhaps by the volunteering and the weekly clapping. Then, as the virus seemed to recede, and life started to get back to something resembling normal we had a mixture of relief; together with a worry that it might be a false dawn. Philippa and I had a very jolly dinner at that excellent pub, The White Hart at Ford, and said a word of thanks to Rishi Sunak for the £20 he saved us. It was my last meal out before a 2-week period of self-isolation prior to my hip operation on 19 August.

Then we had national debates over face masks, social distancing, whether or not the Government had got it right; then we started to realise the awful economic consequences of the Pandemic and attention turned to what we can do to save jobs and livelihoods. The very odd debate between schools and pubs is typical of that.

And now, with a sinking feeling, we watch the second spikes developing on the Continent and elsewhere; we see travel restrictions on Spain being reimposed; we hear about local outbreaks - in Leicester and the North of England, and now even a very localised one in Swindon. We see irresponsible folk cramming onto beaches; and we hear horrifying thoughts of everyone over 50 years of age being put into some kind of mad lockdown. (Will the PM be locked down in No 10 or in Chequers?) We are not through this one yet; and it is vitally important that everyone abides by the rules and regulations to a ‘T’ if we are to prevent the virus reviving itself and causing untold pain and misery and death over the Autumn.

The words ‘unprecedented’ and ‘rollercoaster’ are much overused. Yet a glimpse of true horror in Beirut should make us glad to be alive and living in relative peace prosperity and security. Lebanon is virtually bankrupt, Beirut totally so. They have 1 million refugees from Syria; that murdering organisation Hezbollah runs most things; they have had a most horrifying level of Covid infection; and, of course Syria and Iraq are just a few hundred miles away. Things are pretty bad in Lebanon as a whole, and Beirut in particular. And now into all of that comes this horrific explosion, the massive loss of life and injury from it; and the destruction of that essential lifeline for an import dependant city like Beirut, its port.

I sincerely hope that it’s a result of some kind of industrial incompetence from the unsafe storage of Ammonium Nitrate (why?); but if it were in any way to be connected to terrorism or warfare, the consequences for the whole of the Middle East could well be horrifying and long-lasting.

So we may think it’s bad here. We may have our grumbles. But it might just be sobering to contemplate what life is like in Beirut. It makes our rollercoaster look pretty tame by comparison.

I’m on a bit of a health regime prior to my operation next week. Philippa’s been feeding me on vegetables in modest quantity, and I am totally off the booze. All too easy on these long balmy summer evenings to enjoy a glass of white burgundy which then becomes a bottle….. If I am to have my undercarriage repaired, I’d better make sure that the fuselage is not too Jumbo. So I did take advantage of Rishi Sunak’s £10 off initiative; but also listened carefully to the PM’s more or less simultaneous warning against obesity. (Not that I am obese, I hasten to add- just a little plumper that I used to be.) It’s all a question of balance- a few little changes of habit here and there can have a disproportionate benefit.

It’s the same with the campaign against Covid. A couple of weeks ago we were in mildly self-congratulatory mood. The numbers seemed satisfactory; lockdown could be eased just in time for the Summer holidays; the Government turned its attention to the economy. The PM was making cheerful speeches about firing up the old Cortina and getting it all going again; and even the most pessimistic of us sighed a mild sigh of relief as we smelled a chance of ‘getting back to normal’.

The mood has changed in the last few days as we start to see some very worrying spikes both on the Continent and at home. Spain, Belgium, and very probably France, are beginning to look a bit out of control. Here we are playing a successful game of whack-a-mole as best we can with local lock-downs apparently working pretty well, including in nearby Swindon.

Piloting the ship of state at a time like this is a delicate business. The health of the nation must be paramount. We cannot let Covid run riot, especially not as we move towards Autumn and the usual seasonal uptick in hospitalised diseases. Yet a collapsed economy would be even more damaging to people’s lives. So we have to Keep Safe; but also get back to work.

I really feel for people who have been through a tough time and were greatly looking forward to a little bit of Sun. How awful to discover half-way through your holiday in Spain that you had to go into two week’s quarantine on your return, or even worse to have to cancel it altogether. Yet if you do not do so you will personally be contributing to the second wave; and the economic collapse which would go with it. It’s a very delicate balance- holiday and quarantine; or staycation in the rain?

The delicacy of the balance in the war against Covid is why the very many people who fill my mailbox with their own sure-fire solutions to the crisis are wasting their time. There are those who are clear that we should have followed Sweden’s lead and gone for Herd Immunity. There are those who think we should be in total lockdown more or less indefinitely. There are still those around who think it’s all a figment of someone’s imagination; there are plenty who have their own brilliant idea about immigration being the core fault; about track and trace systems; about air filtration systems which ought to do the trick.

The reality is that none of them are necessarily wrong; but none of them is right either. There is no golden spike solution to this Pandemic. It’s about gentle twitches on the levers of government responding to changes as we go along. It’s not about Health versus Prosperity. It’s about doing what we can to secure both. Undercarriage and fuselage.

It’s with something of a sigh of relief that Parliament has finally risen for a (much shorter than usual) Summer Recess. It really has not been working properly, and I for one am glad to see the back of it, in the fervent hope that when we start again on 1 September the House and the Palace as a whole may be able to operate something closer to normally. We shall see.

What a rollercoaster 18 months we have had. Remember Brexit? Theresa May? 21 Tories losing the whip, including the Chancellor of the Exchequer; the leadership battle and Boris’s victory, the General Election and Tory triumph? It has all been blotted out by the Covid Pandemic which has been our overwhelming political and personal fixation for the best part of six months now. Add to all of that Boris’s near-death experience; his engagement, the new baby, moving into Downing Street and a whole host of other things. What an astonishing 18 months it has been.

All of that risks obscuring our successful delivery of Manifesto promises- on the biggest ever cash boost for the NHS, on recruiting 13,500 more nurses and 7,800 more doctors, with 40 new hospitals and upgrades to 20 more, and £200 million for new cancer screen machines. We have kept our promise on more police officers – recruiting 4,000 more officers; on schools funding – increasing funding for every child, with £14.4 billion over three years and set out a £1 billion rebuilding programme to transform schools in every region of the country. We have kept our promise to boost local transport connections – confirming a revolution in local transport, backed by £5 billion to improve bus and cycle lines. We have started reversing the Beeching cuts and announced funding to fix 50 million potholes. We have kept our promise to help those who need it most – giving the lowest paid a pay rise by providing the largest ever cash increase in the National Living Wage, and giving inflation-busting pay rises to teachers, prison officers, doctors and other vital public sector workers. Not a bad record for a Government fighting the pandemic and doing its best to keep the economy on track.

And despite everything, and ignoring the conflicting advice and complaints of the armchair epidemiologists, we have done our best to battle against the worst pandemic the world has ever seen. Sunday’s announcement of a closure of Spain, and compulsory quarantine for all returning from their holidays has been greeted by some as being too little too late; by others as an over-reaction. Some are puzzled about the travel ban to the Mainland, but not to the Balearics or Canary Islands; others welcome that slight easing to take account of regional differences within a country. I welcome the Government’s decisive action to prevent a second spike in the UK, and hope they will continue to be tough and decisive in the future.

The weather is a bit mixed, but staycationing has a great deal to recommend it; and will do much to help our embattled pub and hotel and B and B industry. I will be staying at my own very nice Cotswold Farm B and B near Corsham, at least partly because I am in isolation prior to my second hip operation on 19 August. So by the time the House is back on 1 September I should be leaping around like a spring lamb thanks to the genius of British medical science. Poor old Philippa’s the one who will get no holiday from the catering and laundry department. She will deserve a decent break as soon as all of this (hip and Covid) is over, and I promise that she will get it.