Category Archives: sartilly

Thursday 27th August 2026 – WHAT AN AFTERNOON …

… we’ve had today. We’ve been about three months without any rain to speak of, and this early evening, we had the whole outstanding lot presented to us in about half an hour. I’ve never seen rain quite like it, that’s for sure.

No hint of anything like this last night. By 23:00, I was in bed, and good and ready for it too, I was. I was asleep quite quickly too, and although I remember maybe just a couple of times that I might have been awake, it wasn’t for long at all.

When the alarm went off at 06:29, I was definitely asleep, and it took me the usual ten minutes or more to drag myself to my feet and head off to the bathroom to sort myself out. I had a good wash and even a good shave in case Emilie the Cute Consultant will be there this afternoon.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to see where I’d been during the night.

There had been some kind of national emergency, and we’d turned a few houses into fortified spots, and Gainsborough Road was one of them. So we had lots of people living in there, mostly civilians who came there for protection. Gradually, the place became more and more untidy. You couldn’t find anything, and there was furniture, dust and possessions all over the place. Eventually, the emergency was over and people began to drift away. That meant that we had to begin tidying up and looking for all the things that we had that had been moved. They were turning up in all kinds of strange places, like in the oven and in the fireplace. What I did was to eventually light a fire in the oven, and all the rubbish that we found, we put in there to burn. We were hunting for all kinds of strange things. I was hunting for my red and blue striped t-shirt that I couldn’t find anywhere, and one of the girls, whom I’d told not to be so military, was still pretending that she was in the army, marching up and down and either giving orders or accepting them with an extravagant “yes, sir!”. In the end, my mother told me where she’d seen my tee shirt, but I couldn’t find it there for the moment. However, I did find a vicar from one of these obscure sects giving lessons, that kind of thing, and he was actually announcing to everyone that he was homosexual, and for that reason, he was handing back his appointment to come with us in the bus to see something. In the end, he was one of the people who wanted to go to see the regional office about a different kind of ammunition, so he arranged a coach trip there. Two girls wanted to come on too out of interest … fell asleep here …

This sounds like an interesting dream. And especially the red and blue t-shirt. That was something that I had over fifty years ago and it ended its life when it fell into a drum of 25 litres of cooking oil.

And looking for things that have been moved is another bane to my life, although I can usually manage that all on my own without anyone there to help me, just like falling asleep is in the middle of a dream. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I am actually asleep while I’m dictating, but what happens in these moments is that everything on the dictaphone goes really quiet, and then there’s the sound of my sleeping.

We were somewhere up in the north-east of England and we had to come back to take a friend of ours to the airport. So I had my brother with me, and we set out and drove all the way down whatever the motorway is from Durham down to somewhere like Retford or Newark, where we came off and drove through the north Midlands to Crewe. I was convinced that there was a quicker way than the down which he took us, so I looked at the map when we stopped for fuel. We should have come off the motorway a lot farther north because there was a dead-straight line, the old A1, that went all the way down to Nottingham and saved us probably 30 miles. Anyway, we fuelled up and went to pick up our friend. For some reason, we were quite late leaving her house and driving to the airport, and I did my best to go as fast as I could. We eventually found the airport and we dropped her off, and we were just pulling away when she came out and said that her ‘plane had gone. She was talking about changing her ticket and going on some kind of expedition to various race courses. I went in and asked the receptionist if it would be possible to put her on another ‘plane. She said that there was a ‘plane leaving in half an hour, but the supplement was over three thousand pounds. I looked totally surprised, so the receptionist said “I don’t understand why you are so surprised”. Anyway, we had to abandon that idea of putting her on another flight.

This is everyone’s worst nightmare, isn’t it? Missing a ‘plane at the airport. And having my brother navigating wouldn’t be too far away from there either. Taking the wrong road whilst having a map in his hands would be no problem for him.

The nurse turned up as usual to sort me out. He was worried about me not relaxing. However, I don’t have the time for all that nonsense. I have far too much going on right now.

After he left, I could crack on and make breakfast and not read my book because I’m still following this rather strange trail that I’ve created for myself.

Having explored the delights of amphibious aeroplanes (and I’ve no idea how I managed to arrive here from Gothic Architecture) I came back in here where there was plenty of work waiting for me to do. However, I rather unfortunately fell asleep while I was doing it and didn’t wake up until about 11:15, meaning that I’d wasted most of the time that I’d had.

And it was another one of those sleeps where I didn’t remember falling asleep at all, not even feeling tired either. In fact, no-one was more surprised than me to find that I’d been asleep.

So having woken up, I spent some time finishing off what I was doing, and then I continued with the radio notes until the alarm went off to remind me that it was midday and I ought to be getting ready for dialysis.

In the kitchen, I sorted out my disgusting drink and the midday medication, and then my cleaner arrived to apply the anaesthetic to my arm and to pack away the laptop into its bag for me to take with me as usual. After she left and I was ready to go, I curled up, leaning forward onto the dining table, and began to relax.

Just as I was slipping away into a nice, deep sleep, the doorbell rang. The taxi was here to take me to dialysis, ten minutes early. We had to stop to pick up Mrs Dinosaur, whose camp, we noticed, is being slowly dismantled, and then we set off for Avranches. And the chaos that is said to begin in La Havaudière in mid-September when they start to improve the road has already started, with a couple of lorries unloading pipes and heaps of gravel, blocking the road as they do so.

Consequently, we weren’t as early as usual arriving at dialysis, and stuck in one of the eight individual rooms on the far side, I had to wait until 14:10 before I was up and running, having had no fewer than three nurses hovering around me. Bizarrely, the second puncture hurt less than the first one. It’s usually the other way round.

Accompanied by the automatic blood pressure tests every half an hour and the consequent wailing of the alarm as the machine announced to the World that my blood pressure was under the acceptable limits and the subsequent dashing of the nurses to my side to find out what was the problem, I settled down to watch Trefelin v Caernarfon from last weekend.

Trefelin are bottom of the table right now with no points and no goals scored, but the way they played, that can only be a temporary situation. They had several chances of their own, and on one occasion, hit the woodwork with the entire Cofi defence beaten.

However, the Cofis were far too good for them, technically and aggressively, and towards the end of the game, the Cofis had gone to a back three, with Chris Marriott coming on to join Jordan Piggott and Ben Nash, and full-backs Ryan Sears and Matty Jones playing up front on the wings.

Nevertheless, a 2-0 victory for Caernarfon was hardly a statement victory for them.

After that game, it was my intention to watch some of the Fflint v LLansawel game but a whole variety of interruptions prevented that. One interruption that I didn’t have, though, is a doctor. The latest course of antibiotics finishes today, so I was expecting (and quite rightly, too) the doctor who prescribed them to come along to see me and find out how things were. However, no such luck. I’ve only seen a doctor twice in the last three or four weeks.

When I was finished, I was unplugged quite quickly, and, even better, the taxi was already waiting and I was the only passenger. But Marcey-les-Grèves was totally paralysed again with traffic, so we turned round and took the long way home.

All through the morning and the early afternoon, the weather had been quite nice, but when we left the dialysis centre, it was raining slightly. It had stopped by the time we reached Marcey-les-Grèves, but on the way to Sartilly the heavens opened and I have never ever seen rain like this. It looked as if all the rain that we hadn’t had since May, we were having all at once.

By the time we were almost at Sartilly, it was raining so heavily that you couldn’t see a thing. Everyone was driving at walking pace, the roads were flooded, and the fields looked like Ieper in November 1917.

The rain eased off, started again, eased off, and by the time we reached Granville, there was blue sky. My cleaner, who was waiting for me, told me that they had had the same rainstorm here in Granville half an hour ago, so it looked as if it was a band of storm clouds moving from north to south.

She helped me into the apartment, and when I was sitting down, stuck a disgusting drink into my hand, in accordance with the prescription.

After she left, I managed to find the energy to come in here and write up my notes. However, I’m not sure how many times I fell asleep while I was doing it. Was it three? Or was it four?

After the last time, when I awoke, it was 21:30 or thereabouts, so I simply posted on line what I’d written so far, and I’ll finish it in the morning. On that note, I fell into bed and that was that.

These notes will have to be finished quickly because tomorrow, there might not be a posting until Saturday. There’s football on on Friday night, with Trefelin (no goals and no points) v Rhydaman (three goals and one point), a proper basement relegation clash. With a five-point gap to the next club opening up already, so early in the season, some clubs need to be getting some points on the board quite quickly If this gap isn’t to increase further. A draw isn’t really going to help either of these two teams.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about failures in map reading … "well, one of us has" – ed … I once went for a drive with a girl who, I found out later, didn’t know how to read a map (and it wasn’t Nerina at all. She was quite a good NAVIGATOR, NAVIGATOR, RISE UP AND BE STRONG)
At one point, I asked her where we were. She pointed to somewhere on the map. "We’re here" she announced proudly.
"That blue line?"
"Yes"
"That’s a river, dear."

Monday 24th August 2026 – NOW HERE’S A …

… thing!

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that on three or four occasions, I’ve found myself being awoken by a phantom alarm. And on one occasion, I was even up and out of bed before I realised that it was a false alarm.

But what happened this morning was far, far more bizarre than that. However, you’ll have to read on to find out what it was.

Last night, although I made a determined effort, it was almost 23:30 when I finally crawled into bed, totally fed up of the day and everything like that. And surprisingly, it took me an age to go off to sleep.

And now we come to the exciting bit.

This was another strange night when at about 01:35, I awoke to find myself sitting on the edge of the bed, thinking that the alarm had gone off. I had to convince myself to go back to bed when I found out that it hadn’t.

But what was interesting about this is that usually, when there’s a phantom alarm going off, I really do “hear” it in my sleep, even though it doesn’t ring. Last night, though, I heard nothing and awoke spontaneously, and there I was, already sitting on the edge of the bed. It was completely bizarre.

Anyway, I went back to bed, and as far as I know, although you can never be sure, the way things are today, I didn’t wake up again until the alarm rang.

When the alarm went off, we had the usual dithering while I tried to find some enthusiasm from somewhere, but eventually I managed to find my way into the bathroom for a really good wash and shave in the unlikely event that I see Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Back in here, I listened to what else was on the dictaphone from last night.

I was back wandering around London yet again last night, only this time London turned out to be Crewe. I was roaming all around the shops in the shopping centre and this precinct that they’ve built to replace the old Queensway lot. I was just looking around from shop to shop and was thinking of going over to look at the ASDA and Co-op supermarkets, but somehow I found myself in the hospital. So I went into hospital, right to the top, and wandered around a few wards, then gradually worked my way down. I was still quite high up when I came across the café there. I went in to join the queue in the café and asked them if they could make me a baguette with cheese and tomato but no butter. She went to find all the ingredients, and I ended up with two half-baguettes. She put a load of crudités on them and things like that on them, on the grounds that quite a lot of people hadn’t had their crudités this morning, so there were plenty left over, and because I’d enjoyed her cooking, I could have several of them, which I thought was quite nice of her. I ended up sitting in the Oxford College Students’ Union having my lunch and trying to write up a few notes.

So, back in London yet again. How many times is this? And quite recently we’ve been in a high building just like this hospital building, only then it was a university dormitory.

However, in this dream, Crewe town centre was magnificent, all glass and black metal framing. And the tower block where British Home Stores used to be was raised on a central pole above a two-storey row of shops on the corner and looked from the outside like one black metal inverted rectangle framework with rounded corners, with a huge single glass window. The glass was frosted so you couldn’t see in from the outside, but it looked wonderful.

The nurse turned up early, and he talked about the “race of the café waiters” yesterday in the town as he dealt with my feet and legs. The race, so he told me, is for waiters from the cafés in the town who have to run round a course in the town centre while carrying a tray with a bottle and some glasses on it. It’s hilarious, so I was told.

After he left, I made my breakfast, and while I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

He’s keeping out of controversy again today, but still banging the jingoistic drum as loud as he can at every possible opportunity.

Back in here, there were things to do, and then when they were finished, I reviewed the next radio programme and sent it off for inclusion in the stream for Friday.

And then we had the real work.

As I mentioned yesterday, the next radio programme is going to be a live concert, so I was busy looking at the soundtrack. It’s one hour and thirty-eight minutes long, so it needs a lot of hefty editing. After two passes, I have it down to fifty-nine minutes and forty-five seconds But if I want to put in a decent introduction, I’ll have to edit it some more (although I’m not sure how). I probably need a good two minutes to have something like what I want.

When my alarm sounded at midday, I went into the kitchen to prepare myself for dialysis and to have my disgusting drink and midday medication. My faithful cleaner came down to apply the anaesthetic on my arm too, and it’s a good job that she was early because the taxi, which is booked for 13:00, turned up at 12:25 today.

Not that I’m complaining, of course. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … the earlier I start, the earlier I’ll finish. But today, apparently, it’s not likely to be an earlier start – more a drive around the countryside picking up two other passengers who live miles from anywhere.

That doesn’t bother me either. As I have also said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … since I’ve been going to dialysis with this taxi company, I’m seeing parts of Normandy that I never knew existed.

And so it was today. After picking someone up in the back of St Pair-sur-Mer, we had to go to a remote community called Bouillon where there’s a campsite and where there was a tourist who had to go to the hospital for an appointment. And what a nice village Bouillon is, especially the church that has an apple tree growing out of its tower.

Our taxi arrived at dialysis at about 13:30 and dropped me off before continuing on its way with the other two passengers. I went to weigh myself and found, to my pleasure, that it wasn’t as disastrous as it might have been. And seeing as there was plenty of room to manoeuvre, I persuaded the nurse to add a further 300 grams to the amount to be extracted today so that I would be in advance for Thursday.

By 14:02 I was up and running, and I could turn my attention to the football from the weekend. Today’s match was another one from last Friday – Colwyn Bay v newly promoted Airbus UK Broughton, played in front of a crowd of over four figures.

Airbus already has more points than it managed over the whole season when it was last in the Premier League, and whilst it was rather optimistic to expect the club to win any more in this match, they played really well and limited the Seagulls to a 1-0 victory.

Yet another skilful game with plenty of reasons for the Wingmakers to be optimistic for the forthcoming season.

There was also time to watch some of the game between Trefelin and Caernarfon, but I didn’t see enough to make any worthwhile comment about the match.

For a change, my blood pressure behaved itself, and the nurse only had to come running three or four times when the alarm sounded. That makes a change from just recently.

Surprisingly, a doctor came to see me today just as I was leaving. I told him about the hallucinations, as I had been advised to do by more than one person who thought that they might be dangerous. He asked me if I was bothered about them, but I replied “not particularly” so he told me that he won’t change anything.

He also asked me if I ever had a feeling of being disorientated or not knowing where I was. I replied that I’d had that for years, long before I ever started on these pills and tablets.

When the session was over, I was unplugged quite quickly, and to make matters even better, the taxi was already here and waiting. However, we had to wait for another passenger and then drop her off in Sartilly. Nevertheless, by 18:10 I was back home, where my cleaner was waiting to help me into the apartment and stick a disgusting drink into my hands.

Tea tonight was a taco roll with rice and veg. The stuffing for the roll was made of some dehydrated “minced beef” with kidney beans, onions, garlic and tomato sauce. There was enough for three rolls, so two helpings have gone into the freezer for another time.

Back in here, I made a start on writing the notes, but I ran out of energy. After another tough day at dialysis, I couldn’t keep awake. And so I posted online the notes as far as I had written and went to bed. I’ll finish the notes off in the morning.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about café waiters … "well, one of us has" – ed … I remember someone in a café having a drink of coffee and immediately turning up his nose at it.
"This coffee tastes like mud!" he declared.
"But sir!" replied the waiter "It was ground only half an hour or so ago!"

Monday 17th August 2026 – THESE UNHAPPY, UNCERTAIN …

… days are continuing, piling up one on top of another, and I’ve no idea when it’s all going to end.

Last night, I actually managed to complete my notes (the first time for ages), although I ended up really late going to bed. And although I went to sleep quickly enough, I was back awake again at some point later.

It was one of those awakenings that I didn’t really feel. I can’t remember my eyes opening, but they just were. I wondered how long they had been open before I realised.

Again, it was an early morning of drifting off to sleep and then being awake again and not recognising which was the waking bit and which was the sleeping bit because I couldn’t tell the difference between the two.

When the alarm went off at 06:29, I went off to sort myself out in the bathroom and even to have a shave in case I encounter Emilie the Cute Consultant today at dialysis. Then back in here, I listened to the dictaphone to find out where I had been during the night.

I’d been invited to take over the management of a struggling football club in Scotland, so I went up there, and the first thing that I wanted to see was the football club’s accounts, but the accounts were heavily edited, and when I looked at the spreadsheet for the other clubs, it seemed that this was a thing that every club was doing. It was simply editing its accounts, and where there should have been a figure, there was just a yellow blob, so I had no idea exactly of what I was expected to take over and manage and how I was going to do it. There was much more to this, but the alarm went off and it evaporated immediately.

This is reminiscent of what’s happening at Greenock Morton right now. Their major sponsor has “financial issues” right now and, over the last three months, has failed to pay most of the sponsorship money that is due. Consequently, half of the players have left the club, and the club has been obliged to recruit players who, to be honest, aren’t up to the challenge of life in the Scottish Championship.

The nurse turned up as usual and gave me the treatment on my legs and feet. And after he left, I could make my breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Once more, he’s steering clear of controversy today and making sure that he doesn’t provoke anyone into taking an issue with him. Maybe he has had his nose bitten off more times than he cares to remember.

After all that, I came in here to make a start on everything. and there was plenty to do too. When I’d finished the more usual things, I had the radio to deal with.

First task was to review the programme for the coming weekend and make sure that it’s correct. Then I could send it off for inclusion in this week’s stream.

The second task was to carry on with the one that I’d started at the weekend. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that of this almost-two-hour soundtrack, I extracted five particular selections of music that made up over fifty-eight minutes, and this morning, I segued them all together.

The joints are absolutely excellent, and now it sounds just like one continuous performance, which is always what I’m aiming for with these concerts.

After that, there was even time to begin to write the speech for it. And that’s well over half-done now. It won’t take long to finish it now, and I can move on to something more important.

By now, it was midday and time to prepare myself for dialysis. I had to hunt down a few things and then wander off into the kitchen to sort out a disgusting drink and the midday medication.

My cleaner came along soon and helped me apply my anaesthetic, and then she put away the clothes that I’d washed on Saturday. They’d washed really well too.

After she left, I had to wait for the taxi, so I curled up on a kitchen chair and slumped over the dining table and drifted off into some comfortable place somewhere in the surreal. And what made it even more enjoyable was that the taxi was late. It arrived at 13:20, which meant that for a good forty-five minutes, I’d had a nice little snooze.

Today, I was the only passenger, so we arrived in Avranches just before 14:00. I was taken to my little room and installed, and I was dealt with comparatively quickly. By 14:20 I was up and running.

There was football to watch today – Connah’s Quay Nomads v Trefelin BGC, another newly promoted club.

Although the score of 6-0 to the Nomads makes it look like a very one-sided game, Trefelin had several moments of their own. The big difference was that the Nomads were much more clinical in front of goal, with Indonesian international Joe Simatupang Ferguson scoring a hat trick and Egyptian Hussein Mehasseb scoring two.

But credit to Trefelin, who kept on battling away. They never threw in the towel and were still on the attack even at the final whistle.

After that game, there was time to watch the first 35 minutes or so of the Hwlffordd v Penybont game. Hwlffordd have had a dreadful season so far, playing two and losing two, but Penybont have got off to a flyer.

By the time I had to close down the laptop, Hwlffordd were already one goal down.

Once more, no doctor came to see me today, and even worse, the nurse was obliged to finish my session ten minutes early because she had two other patients besides me who needed compressing, and everyone was due to finish at the same time. I wasn’t very happy about leaving here 300 grams overweight, especially as there’s a three-day gap until the next session on Thursday.

My driver was waiting for me when I came out, but we had to wait ten minutes for the lady who lives in Sartilly to finish. She was coming home with us, and only when she was safely on board our vehicle could we depart.

Granville, as usual, was a total mess. Most of the town centre was closed due to the annual braderie when the shops set out everything that they want to move on, sometimes at ridiculously cheap prices.

The Air-Sea Rescue helicopter was on the Pointe du Roc today when we drove past.

Rumour has it that it had rescued a couple of people stranded on one of the Isles de Chausey by the very high tide. It was now unloading them so that it could fly back to its hangar at the airstrip up the coast.

Incidentally, the photo of the helicopter was one that I’d taken IN NOVEMBER 2021 when I’d seen that woman commit suicide.

My faithful cleaner was waiting for me, and she helped me back into the apartment, and I was certainly grateful. I’d had an exhausting session today. She stuck a disgusting drink into my hand, and after she left, I made tea – a bowl of cheese salad with rice and veg.

Back in here, I began to write out yesterday’s notes, but I must have crashed out at some point because I suddenly noticed that it was 22:15 and I’d not even written a dozen lines. I was feeling absolutely dreadful at that point so I posted on line what I’d written and crawled into bed. I can finish off those notes tomorrow morning.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about helicopters … "well, one of us has" – ed … regular readers of this rubbish in a previous existence will remember the day I flew in a helicopter. It was a prize offered in a free draw by the new Intermarché in Pionsat.
There were several of us on board, and the pilot announced "complete and absolute silence on board is essential. Anyone who speaks or even makes a noise will be fined €100."
We flew around for ten minutes and then he started to perform some aerobatics. We were thrown around in the sky, but still, everyone kept silent.
"That was amazing" said the pilot. "You lot are the first to withstand the test."
"Well" said a little old man sitting in the corner "I was going to say something when my wife fell out, But €100 is €100"

Monday 3rd August 2026 – ANOTHER TOUGH DAY …

… at dialysis, but this time, it’s of my own making. There wasn’t as much fluid to extract today, so I told the nurse to wind it up and she ended up taking 300 grams extra. That way I can be ahead for Thursday.

But Sunday night was one of these nights where I reckon that I managed to get ahead for a change. Although it wasn’t early when I ended up in bed … "he fell asleep on the porcelain horse again" – ed …, I did manage once more to go to sleep quite quickly.

However, I did manage to wake myself up with a big coughing fit that lasted for an age. I don’t know at what time that was because I didn’t look, but there was no street light on outside in the car park so it must have been after 02:30.

The coughing fit took hours to subside, which is really bad news, but I was soon asleep, and there I stayed until the alarm went off at 06:29.

It took me a good while to drag myself out of bed and head off to the bathroom, where I had a good wash and a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Back in here, the first task was to find out where I’d been during the night.

I was living on the farm again in Auvergne, except that it wasn’t the Auvergne but somewhere along the Austrian side of the border with the Czech Republic. I had to catch the bus into the city and the bus stop was on the main road a long way away from where I was living so I had to walk, and it was raining and misty. When I reached the main road, I had to walk a little way along the road to the bus stop, but coming up the hill towards me were two white Volvo 145 estates with Czech number plates. They each had a big, round and white adhesive disc on the windscreen, high up on the driver’s side with a number on it, and a couple of yellow adhesive signs on the window with different numbers on them. And as I looked up on the old road higher up the hill where the village was, there was a third Volvo 145 estate. When I reached the city, I had a few things to do and then I went for a drink in my favourite bar before buying a loaf of bread and catching the bus back home. In the bar, I met a few friends of mine and we were chatting, mainly about these three Volvo estates. There was currently a football tournament going on between Austria, the Czech Republic and a few other countries in Central Europe, and I wondered if it was anything to do with that, but my friends were much more interested in the long walk that I’d had from my place to the bus stop. Suddenly, I noticed the time – it was 18:00, so I had to hurry, and I doubted that I would find any bread in the shops at this time. One of my friends came with me, but we had no luck in the bread shops that we had tried so far. But as we passed a shop window, we noticed a huge hand-made poster in the window with a photograph of a fleet of these white Volvo 145 estates and some writing in Czech that I didn’t understand. At the bottom, in big handwritten red crayon, written in English, was “and we also have an ex-British Postal Services minibus”. This all looked really interesting, but I wish that I knew what the Czech writing said.

It’s been quite a subject of discussion between my friends and me that I regrettably didn’t take full advantage of the opportunities offered by my early retirement and the Treaty of Maastricht. Regular readers will recall that I visited the Czech Republic ON MANY OCCASIONS, sometimes under the Communist regime and as recently as 2020. I would have quite happily settled down in a country as beautiful as this, but I was far too preoccupied with other matters to think clearly at the time.

The story about the Volvo estates is interesting too. I can’t imagine why these would be much of a subject of interest to me, but doing the kind of work that they do – running between Austria and the Czech Republic – I would have loved to find out more about it, even if it meant having to drive an ex-British Postal Services minibus.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up rather earlier than usual, and she had some news for me. It seems that there has been some discussion by the authorities about what to do if the drought and heatwave continue, and someone has mentioned the possibility of cutting off the water for a couple of hours each day. And it’s not “pie in the sky” either because I’ve seen reference to it in the press. Whether it will ever happen is, of course, another matter completely.

After she had dealt with my feet and legs, she cleared off on the rest of her round, and I could make my breakfast. And while I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Today he brings into the conversation the cathedral at Limburg in Germany. "Nowhere is the character of the German Transition better exemplified than in the magnificent Cathedral of Limburg. One could hardly have supposed that a church so visibly belonging to an imperfect style could have been capable of such a sublime effect. But the reason is manifestly to be found in its very slight deviation from the old Romanesque model, upon the type of which it is conceived throughout."

In actual fact, it was a Romanesque cathedral when it was built but seven or eight hundred years ago, much of it was rebuilt in the Gothic style, and the bits that are still Romanesque are the surviving bits of the church when it was originally built.

Back in here, I had a listen to the next radio programme to be broadcast, and, as I was satisfied that it was as it should be, I sent it off to be included in the stream for this weekend.

There were a few other things to do, and then I made a start on writing the notes for the next radio programme. Not that I managed to go very far. I really shall have to become much more motivated than I am.

At midday, I went into the dining area, sorted out a disgusting drink and my midday medication, and then I began to prepare myself to go to dialysis. My cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic but she didn’t stay long, as she had other fish to fry. And it’s just as well that she didn’t because the taxi was twenty minutes early today.

The driver had had to pick up someone at the Centre Normandy who wanted to go to a village near Avranches so the despatching had combined me and the old lady in Sartilly into the same trip. We made good time to Sartilly but the old lady wasn’t ready, so that was that.

We dropped off the other woman at Bacilly and then drove to the dialysis centre. We arrived bang on time, so those twenty minutes in advance were effectively wasted. And when I weighed myself, it was 600 grammes short of the weight for the last couple of sessions so, as I said, I told the nurse to wind it up to put me in advance.

Once I was up and running, I watched another football match from the weekend – Hwlffordd v Airbus UK Broughton. The last time that Airbus were in the Cymru Premier League, they managed two draws and no wins in an entire season. However, they have already improved on that after one match by winning the game 1-0. Hwlffordd had a pretty good season last season and they’ve signed some good players, but Airbus’s squad, mainly the players from their Second Division campaign last season, slugged it out with them toe-to-toe, scoring the goal that won the game with just five minutes to go.

From what I’ve seen, I reckon that Airbus and Llandudno are going to be a handful for some of the other clubs in the Premier Division.

Eventually, I was unfastened from the machine and when I weighed myself, I found that I was below my dry weight, which is good news. I had to wait ten minutes for my taxi, which turned up with another passenger inside, going to La Rochelle-Normande. There’s no doubt that since I’ve been travelling by taxi to my medical appointments, I’m seeing parts of Normandy that I never knew existed.

Back here, my cleaner was waiting for me, and she helped me into the apartment, where she stuck a disgusting drink into my sweaty little mitt.

After she left, I made my tea – a vegan burger with pasta and ratatouille. However, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I might have done, and I don’t know why.

Now that I’ve finished my notes and done a few other things that need doing, I’m off to bed, much later than I intended.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Czech Repubilc … "well, one of us has" – ed … and to be serious for just a moment, regular readers of this rubbish will recall that when I was in the Czech Republic in 2015, I drove past a primary school and in the playground, a lot of the kids were jumping up and down on trampolines.
"Hmmm" I thought to myself. "Bouncing Czechs."

Monday 27th July 2026 – THERE HAS BEEN …

… a big wildfire this afternoon near La Havaudière, between Granville and Avranches. All of the traffic is being diverted and it’s absolute chaos down there right now.

However, for a change, it wasn’t absolute chaos in here. I ended up in bed round about 23:00 and settled down for a good sleep. At some point, though, I awoke. I’ve no idea what time, as I couldn’t be bothered to look. However, there were high winds outside and it sounded as if it might be raining. Not that I cared very much. I just crawled back under the quilt and went back to sleep.

The next time that I awoke, it was light in here so, intrigued, I had a look at the time. 06:15, so I switched off the alarm and slowly staggered to my feet. Yet another early start recorded.

When I eventually made my way into the bathroom, I had the usual good scrub-up, and I remembered to have a shave too, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

I was with someone in my house, a girl, and I can’t remember who she was, but she told me that she was having a visitor round later that afternoon. Anyway, before I had the chance to leave, a large Afro-Caribbean-type of man, who came in and simply started to chat. I had a chat with him for a few minutes before I left. Then, just as I was about to go, he said “there’s someone coming up the drive. I think that it’s someone called Lucy”. The girl said “oh yes, that will be the Simpsons.” The door opened and a couple with a little girl came in. It was the little girl’s birthday today so they came into the house and came into the living room. The couple sat down but the little girl went straight over to STRAWBERRY MOOSE and began to tell him about her birthday. Then, her mother gave her a present which said it was from Strawberry Moose. Then everyone, including this man, sat down and had a little game, and that man began to look at the girl’s hair and began to rearrange it a little.

What a strange dream this is. It bears no resemblence to anything that has happened to me in my waking hours. It’s a total mystery to me.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up today as usual and chatted away about nothing as she fixed my legs and feet. Then, after she had cleared off, I could make breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

And he’s off on his high horse again. When talking about the Mosque of Amr ibn al-As, he tells us that "in the minor ornaments we cannot fail to remark the constant tendency to anticipate isolated Gothic features" What he means to say here is “Gothic architecture copied many features of Arabian architecture.”

When discussing the Palace of the Alhambra, he tells us that "No amount of mere enrichment can atone for the violation of the great law which requires every weight to have, in appearance as well as reality, an adequate sustaining mass. Nowhere is this rule less regarded than in the palace of the Moorish Kings of Granada. A slender column supports a capital of far too great projection, this again supports an overlapping stilt or fragment of entablature, and as if this were not enough to destroy all notions of mechanical support, the arch itself in many cases does not spring immediately even from this entablature, but from corbels overlapping again ; i t is thus cut off from all decorative connection with the column below, and appears suspended in the air without any sustaining power at all. Nor is the effect at all improved when, as is sometimes the case, this stilt or entablature is supported by coupled columns ; as their separation, by dividing the apparent support, even adds to the idea of insecurity."
As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … a real architect, being faced with the inconsistencies that Freeman noted, would have immediately gone to investigate the style and found out just why the building hadn’t collapsed.

Freeman’s attitude took me so by surprise that I knocked over my juice glass and the grape juice within it in surprise.

There were also all of the scores from the Welsh football matches over the weekend. Remember the other day when I told you that 53-year-old legend Marc Lloyd Williams had signed for Llanberis? He scored one of their goals in the 8-0 rout of Amlwch Town in the Welsh Cup over the weekend.

Then I came back in here to carry on work. There were several things that needed doing, and then I attacked the notes for the radio programme on which I’d been working.

In a mad fit of enthusiasm that I wish that I could recapture for use every day, I finished them all off and they are now ready for dictation, along with about a hundred others. I really must buckle down somehow and clear this massive backlog. But now that my cough is back … "and in spades, too" – ed … that’s not likely to happen for a while.

At midday, I went into the living room to sort out my disgusting drink and midday medication and to prepare myself for dialysis. My cleaner turned up a couple of minutes later to apply my anaesthetic and to make sure that I was ready to go.

To my great surprise, the taxi turned up for me at 12:40, twenty minutes early. I wish that it would do that every day. There was our usual “other passenger” to pick up at the Old People’s Home in Sartilly but even so, we still pulled up at the dialysis centre at 13:25.

Just like Saturday, I was put into a room with two other people, and there was just one nurse to deal with all of us. Even so, I didn’t have to wait very long and I was up and running by 13:55. How I wish that they could do that every time too. And there was a fair amount to take out today. The machine wasn’t working flat out, for a change, but it was near enough.

Apart from the odd low blood pressure warning which, as usual, brought the nurse running, no-one else came to bother me. If there was a doctor on duty, he or she kept his or her distance. There was the occasional glance of the doctor who thinks that he’s in charge and that he runs the show. He kept his distance too. That meant that I could crack on with work, which is always good news as far as I am concerned.

Even better news was that when I was ready to be unplugged after my session, the nurse was ready and waiting to unplug me. When she had finished with me, I weighed myself and found to my delight that the four-hour session on Saturday had done its trick and even though this was just the usual three-hour session, I was finally down to my recognised dry weigh.

At 17:20, I was ready to leave and as the driver was already waiting, with someone else to drop off in Granville, it was looking as if a 18:00 return was on the cards. However, things all went downhill from there.

At the roundabout on the Avranches side of the village of La Havaudière, the road to Granville was closed, with a couple of policemen directing the traffic down a couple of the small country lanes. In the distance, we could see fire engines and police cars.

The narrow roads were total chaos, with long lines of traffic coming both ways. We had to fight our way along as best as we could, and it wasn’t easy. A lorry coming in the opposite direction would block up the lanes for ages while the drivers of oncoming cars sorted themselves out.

To get back onto the Granville road at Le Croissant, where the road was open again, that was chaos too. A huge line of vehicles was blocked by others on the roundabout coming from Granville and going round and round and round while they were trying to make up their minds which way to go.

By the time that we’d rejoined the road, dropped off this guy and dropped me off, it was 18:20, and that was disappointing.

My faithful cleaner helped me inside the premises and once she had me settled in a chair and armed me with another disgusting drink, she went about her business and I made tea.

Tonight, I had a rice salad with plenty of vegan cheese. It should have been “plenty of vegan ham” but I hadn’t checked the packet for four weeks, and when I looked this evening, I could see that it needed a shave before anything else so it went into the bin.

There were slices of my new fruit bread for pudding, and it really was nice – definitely a success, this, with dates, raisins and cranberries.

Back in here, I checked to see what had been going on down the road, and it turned out that a forty-acre field by the roadside near La Havaudière had caught fire and was busy burning away. We’ve had a few of those now, and perhaps a really good dose of rain is called for before the whole country burns up.

Next task was to write my notes for the day but the effects of dialysis proved to be too much and I was overwhelmed by a great wave of fatigue. I posted what I had written so far and then went to bed. I’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the fire brigade … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the two girls from Crewe who had locked themselves out of their house while they were clubbing.
Luckily, they had left a bedroom window open so they borrowed a neighbour’s ladder to climb up.
As they were halfway up, one of the girls remarked "ohh, doesn’t it make you feel like a fireman!"
The other one replied "don’t be silly. Where are we going to find a fireman at this time of night?"

Monday 20th July 2026 – NOT ANOTHER MARATHON …

… session at the dialysis centre, surely. The maximum rate of extraction for me is 950 millilitres per hour and they had it running today at 934. This dialysis is beginning to look like an extreme sport.

Going to bed is becoming an extreme sport too these days. Try as I might, I can’t seem to go to bed at anything like a reasonable time. Even last night, it was still getting on for 23:30 when I finally went to bed.

That’s not all either. I had another turbulent night that ended at 02:30 when I awoke. From then on, it was another one of these “drifting in and out of sleep” nights;

When the alarm rang, we had the usual struggle to drag me to my feet but eventually I managed to drag myself into the bathroom to sort myself out, including a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis.

Back in here afterwards, I turned my attention to the dictaphone to find out what had been going on during the night.

I was in bed when I dreamed that a girlfriend’s mother came by and started to give me food. But one of the pieces of food went down my windpipe instead of my throat, and I awoke with one of these incredible coughing fits that I haven’t had for a while as if I had something stuck in my throat.

This dream is self-explanatory, and it’s really sad news to see that this cough is slowly coming back to haunt me.

There is also “something” going on right now involving a former girlfriend’s mother, and who knows? You might get to hear about it if you’re patient, because it won’t be any time soon.

We were at a big university and there was a lot going on there. The first thing was that one of the girls whom we vaguely knew ended up being the girlfriend of a friend. He used to spend most of his time in her room so we went up once and had a crafty listen at the door. And we weren’t wrong! We noticed on the door was this girl’s name and her boyfriend’s name, with a couple of boyfriends’ names crossed out – they had obviously once been going out with her. My two friends wanted to creep away but I wanted to write “congratulations” on a piece of paper and push it under the door to surprise them. But in the end, I left, and we carried these spear things that we had. We carried them down the stairs with us. Then, there was a drought and things were struggling. We knew that the Japanese students were able to conjure up water so we thought that we’d capture a couple, so I went to try to capture one of these Japanese people, but in the end my friends talked me out of it. At the same time, someone decided that he was going to play a game. He was going to be let loose and roam around this tower block and everyone else would have to try to capture him. We were doing something like this with dice and counters in a game called “The Met”, like you have with the Metropolitan Police, but this was real life so we started off on the hunt. Eventually, I could tell roughly which room he was in, so we went again down the corridor and listened at the door until we were chased away by some Japanese soldiers. I had a plan then that they would be guarding that corridor and they’d be guarding the uphill approach to there, so I got into the lift and went to the floor above. There were different people waiting to get into the lift, and in the end, my two friends joined me, and we managed to keep everyone else out. So we walked down to the end of this corridor and climbed over the safety rail and walked down the fire escape until we were near the door which would lead into the hostel there on that floor. But there were two students standing guard on the window there to that room so we had to think of a way to break in because these students were thin and maybe malnourished. Anyway, we arrived there at this window, and there were two people sitting there on the window and they were pushing everyone away, including us, even though we’d come from a different direction. In the end, we had a maths challenge where the three of us were given a hundred questions and we had to see how many we could do and how many of them would be correct.

What a strange dream this was! It’s not the first time that I’ve invented a new game during my sleep. I ought to patent and market them. But for this game here, I can already imagine the entries on several squares –
1 – insult a colleague of ethnic minority
2 – kick a peaceful protester in the groin
3 – interview a witness so thoroughly that he has to spend the next five weeks in hospital

The two friends in this dream are unknown to me but the other guy and the girl involved are people whom I know and recognise from fifty-five years ago. The building, too, is also one that has featured quite regularly in my life during my waking hours thirty-five to forty years ago.

Apart from all of that, this is another dream that would be quite interesting to explore further, although not necessarily the maths test and the Japanese people. I’m not sure why they are there.

The nurse was really early again today but he didn’t stay long. He seemed to be in quite a hurry and didn’t have much to say. Once he’d left, I could make my breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

We’ve left early mediaeval France and are now discussing “The Romanesque Of Northern France And England, Or Norman Style”.

We’re not even ten lines into the chapter when he comments that "it will be allowable to dwell with greater minuteness upon the architecture of so splendid a period, when if art had not reached the same zenith of perfection as in the palmy days of Gothic skill, yet the number, vastness, and magnificence of its works attest alike the bounty of founders and the genius of architects.".

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that only ten days ago, he was heaping abuse on Roman architecture "on the ground of mere vastness and magnificence" and lack of artistic effort.

However, the reasons for his dramatic change of opinion when it comes to the architecture of Northern France and England soon become clear. "Majestic and awful, rather than beautiful, no style is more truly religious, more imbued with the spirit and position of the Church in its own day, the day when St. Anselm braved spoliation and banishment, and St. Thomas sealed his witness with his blood."

Back in here, there was, as usual, plenty do but it ended up being more than that because, at about 10:15, I fell asleep and didn’t awaken until 11:10. That was a waste of an hour.

At 12:00 (I’ve set an alarm on dialysis day now so that I don’t oversleep), I headed off into the living room to prepare my things. My cleaner turned up ready to apply the anaesthetic but when she took the plasters off from Saturday, one of the punctures began to bleed, so that delayed us for a while.

While she was here, I also showed her how I had repaired the drawer yesterday. And while I was demonstrating, another one fell apart so we’ll fix that when I come back.

The taxi was ten minutes early today, which is good news. The earlier I arrive, the earlier I can depart. We had to go to Sartilly to pick up my usual travelling companion, but even so, it was just a handful of seconds after 13:30 when we arrived.

As I said earlier, there’s another mammoth load of water to remove from me today, as I discovered when I weighed myself, so I wasn’t looking forward to this session. I was in a small ward with just one other person today, but the nurse in charge was one who seems to have something of an attachment to me and she even stroked my arm several times.

She explained which of the blood pressure readings were important and which weren’t, so if the alarm rang for an unimportant reading, she showed me how to cancel it. That meant that I could pretty much be left in peace.

One of the doctors came round and asked me how things were, so I told him about the cough and the pain in my foot. “We’ll see how it develops” was his response. That’s helpful.

When I was unplugged, I had to wait for the taxi but even so, I was still back here for 18:20. My faithful cleaner was there to help me in, and then we set about repairing the drawer that had collapsed at lunchtime. This time, though, it wasn’t as easy as the others that I repaired, but once we resorted to the use of a hammer, it seemed to go together acceptably.

After my cleaner left, I made a quick tea – a plate of pasta and veg tossed in olive oil, freshly ground black pepper and grated vegan cheese. And it was just as delicious as always.

After I’d washed up, I came back in here to write up my notes, but no sooner had I started than a huge wave of fatigue overwhelmed me. To my extreme disappointment … "and to yours too, I imagine" – ed … there was no other solution but to go to bed, and my notes can take care of themselves in the morning.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the police … "well, one of us has" – ed … one day a policeman turned up at our front door and spoke to Nerina.
He showed her a photo and asked her "is this your husband?"
"Yes it is" she replied.
The policeman continued "I’m afraid that it looks as if he’s been hit by a lorry"
"I know" she replied. "His personality is not up to much either."

Monday 13th July 2026 – JUST FOR A …

… change, we had some rain here this afternoon. And that was something that many people were pleased to see, bearing in mind the last few weeks of drought. And I do have to say that it did indeed make a welcome change.

Something else that made a welcome change was the fact that I actually had something of a decent night’s sleep. That certainly took me by surprise.

After I’d finished baking yesterday, I came back in here to write up my notes, totally oblivious to the fact that I hadn’t had anything to eat. I had completely forgotten about tea.

After my notes were finished and on line, I had a few things to do, and then I went to bed. It was round about 23:00, not as early as I was hoping, but then again, nothing is these days.

Strangely, it took me an age to go off to sleep. That’s the first time for quite a while that I’ve had a problem in this respect. But once asleep, there I stayed until all of … errr … 03:10.

At that time, I was awoken by someone shouting “hey”, and then something extremely important about the Welsh Premier League. I’ve no idea what it was now but it awoke me with a start yet again.

The bedroom window in here is slightly open, so I suppose that it could conceivably be someone outside shouting, but why would they be shouting something about the Welsh Premier League? In the end, I decided to treat it as a dream because I can’t think of what else it might have been.

The next thing that I remember was the alarm going off at 06:29. I don’t even remember going back to sleep after that earlier incident, so it really did take me by surprise. And once again, we had the usual struggle to rise to my feet and head off to the bathroom.

It’s a good wash and shave today, just in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. And then after that, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And as well as the previous dream, there was something else on there too.

It was ironic because earlier, I’d been dreaming about the Welsh Premier League. I had to make a series of radio broadcasts about the different leagues, different clubs and so on. They gave me a list of Premier Division clubs that I had to include somewhere or other in the programme and also made other suggestions about things that I should mention. By the time that I’d reached a thousand words, or something like that, I’d already written quite a few and it was moving quite nicely.

So here we go with the Welsh Premier League again. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I do spend a lot of my time one way or another with the Welsh Premier League, but it’s quite rare for me to dream about it. And judging by the opening comments, it’s in some way linked to the previous incident at 03:10.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up earlier than usual today – her last day for twelve days. She was looking all radiant in her summer gear, ready to go home and put the reclining seats on the patio and her feet up until a week on Sunday.

She told me about an accident that had taken place down the road during the night in which a car had gone out of control and collided with three parked vehicles. I’d heard nothing, of course.

After she’d left, I could make my breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

We’ve finished Rome now and moved on to Byzantium, which pleases him much more, seeing as it’s Christian architecture and art.

Nevertheless, he still can’t resist firing a parting shot – "The division is purely horizontal ; a bay of a basilica is a thing which cannot be imagined. Size, splendour, even proportion, may make basilican architecture pleasing to the eye, and no other style has associations which can speak so powerfully to the heart ; but the living soul of art is wanting. It has freed itself from the absurdities and inconsistencies of heathen Rome,"

After breakfast, I cut in half the loaf that I made yesterday and put both halves into the freezer for another time. And the fruit loaf went into a tin. I’m determined to try it one of these nights.

Back in here, I had plenty of things to do. First of all, I reviewed the radio programme for this week and then sent it off. After that, despite my best intentions, I regrettably crashed out instead. And although I awoke later and made another start, I crashed out once more and it wasn’t until 11:45 that I awoke.

That gave me just enough time to choose the first record for the next radio programme before my faithful cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic.

She drew my attention to the sky outside. “That’s storm weather, if ever I have seen it,” I said to myself. “We’re going to be in for it quite soon”.

After she left, I waited for the taxi, and it was almost half an hour late. There was also someone else to pick up, so I was horribly late arriving at dialysis. Even so, I still had to wait, and it wasn’t until 14:45 that I was actually up and running.

Almost as soon as we had left my house, there was an enormous clap of thunder and flash of lightning, and it rained all the way to Sartilly.

During the whole session at the dialysis centre, which was another heavy one, by the way, the blood pressure alarm was going off every half-hour, bringing the nurses running. But there was nothing to worry about. It kept on interrupting my work and my attempts at some more beauty sleep, though.

The doctor came to see me too and told me the good news – that I don’t need another one of these cameras stuck up my nose. They are going to monitor my situation.

When it was time to unplug me, I had to wait fifteen minutes, which was annoying. The taxi driver was waiting for me, however, so we could push off quite quickly. The bad weather had gone and it was actually quite warm again.

There was another passenger in the car, whom I hadn’t noticed at first, so we had to go to Sartilly to drop her off. And it was 19:10 when I finally arrived home.

My cleaner helped me inside to sit down and recover, and after she left, I made some food – a bowl of pasta and vegetables, boiled and then fried in olive oil and black pepper, and covered with grated cheese. Another delicious meal.

So now that I’ve finished my notes, there are a few things left to do and then I’m off to bed, hoping for an even better sleep than last night. But as long as I don’t crash out during the day, I’ll be fine.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about churches and basilica … "well, one of us has" – ed … everyone was quietly praying one Sunday morning at the Basilica in Koekelberg in the north of Brussels when suddenly Satan appears.
Everyone immediately panics and runs for the exit except for one old man
"So, aren’t you afraid of me too?" asks Old Nick
"Not at all" replies the old man
"And why not?"
"Why should I be? After all, I’ve been married to your sister for nearly fifty years."

Monday 29th June 2026 – ANOTHER DISMAL, DESPERATE …

… day at dialysis is coming to an end, and you’ll be surprised to hear, just as I’m surprised to be telling you, that I’ve actually had a meal tonight. Or, at least, something that actually passes for food.

But before I move on and tell you all about it, have you ever had one of those days when you’ve been working so intently that you haven’t noticed what time it is and you’re really surprised when you find out?

It was one of those evenings last night. Before I finished my notes, I mentioned that I had one or two things to do later before going to bed. And so, once the notes were online, I made a start. The next thing that I knew, it was 23:55 and I was about to turn into a pumpkin.

So I quickly closed everything down, went for my nighttime medication, and tidied myself up in the bathroom and it must have been about 00:30 when I finally crawled into bed. It’s been a long time since I was last up at that time.

Going to bed late is something. Sleeping is something else completely, and I had another one of those nights where I wasn’t sure whether I was awake or asleep. It’s really weird, this situation and I don’t know how to explain it. You can’t imagine anything like it until it happens to you.

One thing is certain though, and that is that I was definitely awake quite early. And when I finally had a look at the time, it was 06:21. And so I sat up in bed, put both feet on the floor and claimed an early start.

Having both feet on the floor is not quite the same as being up and about, not by a good fifteen minutes, but eventually I was off to the bathroom for a good wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone, but as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … if you don’t really go to sleep, you can’t really dream, can you?

Not to worry. There are always plenty of other things to be doing to keep me busy, and in any case, Isabelle the Nurse was early today. She had had to take a blood sample at her office at 06:30 so rather than go back home and come back out later, she set off early on her rounds.

She’s off now for a few days but back on Saturday as the holiday season begins to kick in. Then, it’s total chaos;

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

He’s still waxing lyrical about the delights of Gothic architecture and Greek buildings, despite his dismissive remarks about “post and beam” architecture at Stonehenge, etc., but now he’s taking a swipe at Roman architecture too. "Not that great genius, sometimes real beauty, is not displayed in many specimens of the REVIVED ITALIAN ; but as a style it is, except as a warning, completely valueless. It is, in the first place, open to every objection to which the Classical Roman is liable, and is besides loaded with every species of fantastic vagary, of which imperial Rome, amid her worst corruptions, had never dreamed."

Whatever you might think about Roman architecture, this is surely going way too far.

Back in here, there were things to do, but not as much as I thought; therefore, I reviewed the next radio programme and sent it off to be added into the stream, and then made a start on another one.

Some music that I needed was really hard to find too and took quite a lot of tracking down, but I managed in the end and I think that I now have all that I need. This one should be quite an interesting one when it’s finished, whenever that might be.

At midday, I went into the kitchen to sort myself out ready for dialysis, and my faithful cleaner turned up to apply the anaesthetic on my arm. We chatted for a while and then she wandered off while I waited for my taxi.

And would you believe that I fell asleep while waiting? And not only that, I went off on a dream and I was well away with the fairies, although not in any manner that would excite comment from the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine. But then the taxi turned up, the driver rang the doorbell and the whole lot evaporated.

The driver was fifteen minutes late and we had to go to Jullouville to pick someone else up too. Consequently, we were quite late arriving at dialysis. It wasn’t until 14:35 that I was finally connected.

Emilie the Cute Consultant came to see me too. There wasn’t much fluid to extract today, but after she’d interrogated me about my health for a while, she wound the machine up. Then this three-hour session went to a different scale completely.

No one really bothered me during the session so that I could work, and crash out for half an hour too. I was unplugged quite quickly at the end of the session as well, but having to go to drop someone else off in Sartilly on the way back meant that it was still 19:00 by the time that I was back.

After my cleaner left, having helped me into the apartment, I made myself a bowl of pasta and veg in olive oil, black pepper and garlic, topped with grated cheese. I don’t know why, but I’ve been hankering after that all day. I must be pregnant or something, I suppose, although I don’t know how.

But right now, I’m off to bed. It was a bad night last night and I’m hoping for something better tonight.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about being pregnant … "well, one of us has" – ed … a woman went to the doctor for a medical examination. When she went back for the results, he told her "I have to say, madam, that you are three months pregnant."
"Ohh no, it’s impossible" she cried. "I’ve never ever had relations with a man."
At that, the doctor picked up his chair and went to sit outside.
"What’s the matter?" asked the woman.
"The last time that this happened, we had a star in the east and three wise men. I wasn’t born at that time but I’m not going to miss it this time around."

Monday 22nd June 2026 – WHAT A DAY …

… yesterday was. New temperature records set all over France. When I left dialysis at … errr … 19:00 this evening, it was 42.5°C and the heat was insufferable.

Last night was quite insufferable too. When I finally went to bed, it was quite late yet again but the night was hot and clammy and I couldn’t settle down at all. Although I managed to go to sleep, it didn’t last long, and I awoke with one of those mega-coughing fits that I’ve been having just recently.

Once again, it went on for hours and I forget how many times I actually vomited. But just like last night, I managed to bring it to a halt eventually by sitting on the edge of the bed.

Once the cough had succeeded in calming down, I lay back on the bed and tried to go to sleep. However, I was drifting in and out of a rhythm of “cough-sleep-cough-sleep” and couldn’t really settle down at all.

At one stage, I looked at the clock and it read “06:19” – just ten minutes before the alarm, so I found some energy from somewhere and swung my feet out of bed. When the alarm went off, they were still there so that counts as an early start.

It took the usual long while for me to dress and find the motivation to move over to the chair at the desk and computer.

There was plenty to do, but one of the things that didn’t need transcribing was the dictaphone notes, because once again, there was nothing on the dictaphone. That’s hardly a surprise considering that my sleep was so turbulent, but it is disappointing.

Instead, there were plenty of other things to do until the nurse came round.

He was actually early today, probably in a rush to go back home, seeing as his round finishes today for a week. He didn’t stay long and soon cleared off, leaving me to make my breakfast and read some more of EBURACUM OR YORK UNDER THE ROMANS by C Wellbeloved.

We’ve finally finished the book today after spending a long time reading a lengthy chapter on Roman roads. I can’t say that I’m sorry to finish it either. For someone who has a genuine interest in the history of York, it might well be very interesting, but for someone like me, I’ve read better books. I wonder what tomorrow might bring in the way of books.

Breakfast was over by about 09:25, and so I decided to make an executive decision. And for the benefit of new readers, of whom there are more than just a few these days, an executive decision is one that, if it turns out to be the wrong decision, the person who made it is executed. I decided that I would set the alarm for 11:15 and go back to sleep.

In actual fact, I was once more in this stage of tiredness where I couldn’t function properly and it seemed to be an appropriate thing to do. I have to pull myself through all of this, otherwise we’re never going to go anywhere.

When the alarm went off, I went into the bathroom for a good wash and shave and to pretty myself up in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon and then went into the kitchen to find a disgusting drink and my midday medication.

My cleaner turned up at that point to apply my anaesthetic and to sort me out ready for dialysis. That takes much more effort than you might imagine.

The taxi was bang on time to pick me up, however, we had to go to Sartilly to pick up the other passenger who comes with us, so we were late arriving in the end.

It was stifling in the dialysis centre. They’d moved all of the more fragile patients to the new air-conditioned clinic so it was only we more hardy ones who where in the usual building. We were all crammed into one room that had been filled with fan after fan after fan so it was hard to move around.

There was so much chaos there that, from an arrival of 13:50, I was finally connected at 14:50 and that was really depressing.

The doctor (not Emilie the Cute Consultant) came to see me and I told her of the continued problems with the cough. She examined me and prescribed me a temporary medication while she awaits a full report.

As usual, I was the last to be uncoupled and the last out of the building. There was a Mercedes waiting for me too, which was nice, but the heat was incredible. 42.5°C, and back here, it was 41°C. My cleaner helped me in and I collapsed onto a chair.

After she left, I went straight to bed. I couldn’t take any more, being completely tired and exhausted. I decided to start again tomorrow and see how that will go.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Romans… "well, one of us has" – ed … one of the oldest Roman jokes began with two Romans meeting in the forum.
"Tha slave that I bought from you a week ago died yesterday" said one.
"Really?" said the second. "He was with me for twenty-five years and in all that time he didn’t even do that once. "

Monday 15th June 2026 – HAVING CRAWLED MISERABLY …

… into bed at 19:00 last night, it didn’t take long at all for me to fall asleep. And there I lay for quite some time, thinking that this was going to be my best sleep for quite a while.

When I awoke, I could see round the chinks of the blinds that it was barely light outside. “Mmmmm, about 4:30.” I reckoned and crawled back down the bed to sleep. The next time I awoke, I was expecting to see bright sunlight, but instead, it was pitch-black.

“What’s happened here?” I wondered, and then realisation hit me and I checked the time. 23:20 was the time, and when I’d awoken previously, it must have been about 22:30. So much for my nice, long sleep.

Trying my best to go back to sleep and miserably failing, I spent the next few hours drifting in and out of that semi-conscious feeling in between sleeping and awakening. Mind you, I had to leave the bed not once but twice during that period in order to go to ride the porcelain horse.

The alarm went off at 06:29 as usual and by that time I must have been asleep because it definitely gave me a shock. It took me an age to dress and to pull myself to my feet. I slid over to my seat, switched on the computer and transcribed the dictaphone notes to find out where I’d been during the night.

Some guy contacted me and asked “can you tell me who visited your website at 07:10?” I looked at the stats and saw that it was him. I didn’t say anything – I just asked him what he wanted. He replied that there needs to be a total revision of how these sites work, and their background is only going to be garden or soil, and that person who visited your website is going to be responsible for it. I asked “really?” surprisingly. I went to some girl’s house and found all of her clothes and dressed in them, and then I went round. I began to cut this huge tree into pieces, but I didn’t go very far before the dream ended.

This was another one of these strange, surreal dreams where nothing that happens makes any sense. And before anyone says “what’s new?” this is far more confusing than any other.

My sister was growing and putting on weight when all of a sudden it was as if she had exploded and she became three or four times bigger than she was. I was on the battlements of some mediaeval castle so I looked down into a pit and saw where her balloon had been, and there was another one of these balloons starting to appear so I thought that there was someone else destined for this. A guy with me reckoned that we ought to be making enquiries about it all, but I didn’t know how we were going to even start or where we were going to start. The first thing that we did was to take an inventory of how my sister had become.

And if you thought that the previous dream was confusing, what about this one? This one made even less sense than the previous one.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual. I told her about my problems sleeping last night and my early night, but she didn’t really take any interest, which was unusual. She passed it off as a “nothing”.

After she left, I carried on reading some more of EBURACUM OR YORK UNDER THE ROMANS by C Wellbeloved as I ate my breakfast.

He’s still on his religious theme right now, with discussion of religious rites in the Roman Empire. Human sacrifices and crucifixion figure largely in this period.

Back in here afterwards, I reviewed the next radio programme to be sent off, and as it was fine, I sent it off to be added to the broadcast list. So then I dealt with the notes of my Sunday < which needed to go on line. "Mid-morning", I'd promised, and there they were at 11:30 CET, 10:30 UK time, precisely.

There was just enough time to have a good wash and shave before my faithful cleaner arrived to apply my anaesthetic. When she’d done that, I had to wait for my taxi, which was late today. And we had to go to Sartilly to pick up our usual companion.

However, it was embarrassing walking to the car and I really didn’t think that we were going to make it. Leaving the car to go into dialysis was even more difficult and seeing as we were already late, I ended up being the last as usual.

Believe it or not, I was too tired to sleep today and I was just drifting round in a void. I saw a doctor, whose response was to reduce my calcium tablets. She didn’t seem very interested in my failure to function either.

The car picked me up as usual, the last one there, and drove me home to here. And what was even more embarrassing was that I didn’t have the strength to pull myself out of the car. It needed the combined effort of my cleaner and my driver to move me out.

Back in here, when I eventually arrived, I was too tired to do anything. Even though I’d taken the products out of the fridge to finish off the pizza, they all went back into the fridge once my cleaner had left and I came in here to go to bed and go to sleep.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about being last at dialysis … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends was praying for me, using the words of Jesus and saying "Come Forth, Come Forth!"
But instead, I came last so no-one actually won anything.

Monday 8th June 2026 – I’M COMPLETELY FED UP …

… with all of this. Who in their right minds would put two experienced nurses of a good length of service into a ward with just six people and two inexperienced nurses (one who started here on 1st January and the other on 1st May) together in a ward full of eight people?

And guess where I was!

It totally defies description that the staffing organisation in a place like this could be so totally chaotic. I really felt sorry for the two girls being so snowed under like this. It’s true that the two experienced nurses came into our ward near the end and helped them tidy up, but by then, it was far too late to do any good.

Just like last night, really. By the time that I climbed into bed, it was too late for me to have the kind of sleep that would do any good, especially after the early morning on Sunday.

However, I’d only been in bed for five minutes when I began to dream about some home improvements I wanted to do. There was someone, a British guy, doing some work on a place up the road so I went to see him about coming along to do some work for me. He didn’t say very much, but after a while, what he said was that he would give me some of his tools to carry down to my house so that they were there when he came. He gave me what looked like an enormous professional mastic gun that ran off the mains and was on two wheels, and somehow, I had to take this home. He unplugged the machine from the wall and then we came to a huge cable drum with three or four different cables on it that you wound in. It was divided into four or so compartments. He had the white power lead, and there was a splitter in the middle of it, so he unplugged the lead that was in the splitter and worked his way round, winding this cable off the cable drum until eventually they were both free. But there was a box in the middle of this white cable so he opened it up and took a battery out. It looked like a PP3 to me, so I asked him what sort of battery it was, and he replied that it was a PP2, which was one that I hadn’t heard of. I didn’t say anything – I just took the cable as best as I could and there was no battery in that box now so I had to find a PP2 battery from somewhere to make it work, and I was making myself ready to push it on down to my house.

This must be something to do with the guy who rang me on Sunday. He was telling me about all of the improvements that he had made to his property.

The battery issue presumably relates to my friend who was just here for a while. “Batteries” was quite a topic of discussion.

At that point, I awoke dramatically, but only for a moment and I was soon back to sleep.

The next time that I awoke, the day was just starting to dawn. But even though I was contemplating leaving the bed at one point, I must have gone quickly back to sleep because when the alarm went off, it awoke me.

Once I was dressed, I slid over to the computer and began to start work. The first task was to see where I’d been during the night.

Seren made another appearance last night. We were in North Africa, somewhere in a desert condition where there was a town. For some reason, we were walking around on the edge of town and I noticed that these cars were driving along this straight road but suddenly moved to the left and back to the right again, so we went over to find out why. There was no apparent reason except for a hollow in the ground, so Seren began to dig in this hole and she came upon a metal box. She picked up the metal box and we went back to our hotel. We couldn’t open the box, but it looked quite old so we rang a local museum, which came to look at it. They took it away and gave us a receipt. It turned out that it was a treasure from some sheikh from some hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago. They offered her 100,000 dirhams for it, but she said that maybe it might be worth a bit more if they looked more at it. In the end, she settled for 900,000 dirhams.

This dream relates to the guided tour that I was giving around Chester the other day and the story of the Roman amphitheatre that had my visitors so enthralled.

And by the way, 900,000 Moroccan dirhams is worth about €85,000 and never mind the treasure – I would sell my own grandmother for that amount of folding stuff.

For some reason, we were living in a three-bedroom detached house with an integral garage, quite modern. And with the story of this treasure, I had to take it to the museum but Seren was ill. But we moved suddenly in this dream to a hotel that also had an integral one-car garage so I left Seren in there with instructions not to open the door to anyone. If she needed anything, ask the receptionist in the hotel, and I went off. It wasn’t to the museum, it was to the police and they wanted to know more about finding this box. They said that a group of criminals was eager to lay their hands on it. He showed me a photo of the man who was said to be their ringleader. I recognised him immediately as someone who had seen us dig it up, so he sent orders out to someone to do something. He then switched back to French and said that it’s quite possible that this box is going to end up being more valuable than I might think. So I left there and went back to the hotel to find that Seren had gone. At that point, I had a ‘phone call saying that it’s one million dirhams to have her back. And then the ‘phone was cut.

Yes, I’ve given those kinds of instructions out to some people before. And the house was just like a house that Nerina and I once saw with a view to buying if only we could have sold ours quickly.

But this dream is starting to sound too much like the plot to CARRY ON SPYING for my liking.

Incidentally, throughout these pages, you’ll see links to Amazon products appearing every now and again. Being a Sales Associate of Amazon, I receive a small commission on goods sold via my links. It costs you nothing at all extra, but helps defray … "part of the" – ed … cost of my not-insubstantial web-hosting fees.

There are also links for AMAZON UK, AMAZON USA and, since the recent “troubles”, AMAZON CANADA for the use of my numerous Canadian visitors. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I am extremely grateful when someone uses them to make a purchase.

What made me go to the police was that there was a message on this box inscribed in runes. And whilst I can read some runes, I can’t read the rest but I did know that the Norse never came this far south so I assumed that it had been stolen from somewhere and brought and hidden in the desert.

And this part relates to the book that I’m reading right now. They’ve discovered a spearhead and when they x-rayed it, they saw a mark on it that, to some, resembled a rune and to others, no, it didn’t.

At some point, a man and a few of his sidekicks turned up. They asked me how I could live with the recent election results but not live without Seren. It suddenly became clear what was going on. This man was a Bedouin and all the time that he was talking to me, he was combing his hair. And then, when he had finished, he sent one of his sidekicks off to fetch him another comb. He had really thick bushy hair and a bushy moustache and beard but I hadn’t seen him before.

The beard and moustache remind me of my friend, but my caller was much more like the Fat Man in the above-mentioned film.

So, not just going back into the same dream once more, but three times more. Is this a record for stepping back into dreams?

And did I succeed in rescuing Seren? Tune in next time, people, same time, same place.

The nurse turned up as usual, even more cheerful than yesterday. Still, he’s off on his week’s break tonight and it’s Isabelle the Nurse starting tomorrow. He was in chat mode, talking about the commerces in Granville. After he left, I made breakfast and read some more of Vera Evison’s book AN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY AT HOLBOROUGH, KENT while I was eating.

And I had to laugh, although I know that I shouldn’t. Someone broke into their workshed and stole some tools and a couple of artefacts. She was quite indignant, but what is she doing in the graves that they are exposing? A well-known phrase involving a pot and a kettle springs to my mind.

Back in here, I carried on adding products to MY AMAZON STORE for a while. And then I went to make myself look pretty for Emilie the Cute Consultant.

My faithful cleaner sorted out my anaesthetic, and then, the taxi was early for me. And believe it or not, it was a Mercedes-Benz. Apparently, my taxi company had taken over this one at the start of the month, and it’s a bit more upmarket than what we are used to.

It was pouring with rain outside and I had to find my raincoat.

Our driver had to go via Sartilly to pick up our usual Monday partner, and then we set off for the dialysis centre.

The driver threw me out at 13:35 and due to the chaos in our room, I wasn’t plugged in until exactly an hour later as the two girls struggled against the odds. And when they did, it hurt like hell and it’s still hurting now.

Once I was up and running, I was able to do some work until the doctor on duty came to see me. No prizes for guessing who. That’s right, Emilie the Cute Consultant. She asked me how I was, and I told her that the pain in my foot had started up again, and in spades too. So she wrote a prescription basically telling me to double the dose of the painkillers.

That was exactly what I was afraid of, right at the very beginning, but it’s too late to back out now. At least, she was cheerful and smiling about it.

At the end of the session, we had exactly the reverse procedure, and so although I’d finished at 18:05, it was 17:55 when I returned home. At least the driver was waiting for me, and he’d been waiting quite a bit too.

There was a howling gale outside now, so he dropped me off at the back of the building where my faithful cleaner was waiting. She helped me in and settled me down.

After she left, I had the half-pizza from Sunday, and now, late as it may be, I’m off to bed. Welsh in the morning so I want to be on form.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about being in the desert … "well, one of us has" – ed … I told a friend that I’d once taken Nerina to the North African desert.
"And what happened?" he asked
"I came back with nine camels and fifteen goats."

Monday 1st June 2026 – AFTER SEVERAL WEEKS …

… of lovely, pain-free feet, the pain in the sole of my right foot suddenly erupted again at dialysis and erupted in spades too. I’ve been in pain for most of the afternoon and evening, and I wish that it would go away.

What’s worse is that I really had thought that I’d finished with all of this, but “no”. It looks very much like “back to the drawing board, Cecil”.

Not like last night, though. I was late again going to bed. After midnight, and more, I reckon. But I didn’t need much rocking last night either and I was soon asleep.

And there I lay, dead to the World, until about … errr … 06:00 when I awoke. When the alarm should have gone off at 06:29, I was up and about at my desk working.

First thing to do was, of course, listen to the dictaphone to find out what had happened during the night.

We were back in Roman times again, and this time, it involved a girl whom I knew who was taken in somewhere where they took them because of her mental health issues. She’d been seeing demons and all of that kind of thing. She told her daughter that they needed to be placed somewhere to be looked after. This is one of these dreams again where I reached for the dictaphone and fell asleep again before I began to dictate it so I don’t know really what I’ve missed.

It’s a shame that I didn’t catch all of this dream, because this is another one of those dreams with a story behind it that the World is not yet ready to hear.

There was a group of four of us who used to hang around together. There was me, Laurence and a couple of other people. We’d all been told that we needed couselling. We went to see a counsellor who told us that we could attend a group meeting on such-and-such a date at such-and-such a time. We’d no idea at all what to expect but we made ourselves ready at the appropriate time for this counselling. However, one of our members dropped out and left an empty space so we decided to sign Roxanne up and see what she made of this so we added her name on the paper and we had to go back to the doctor’s for another interview and he interviewed Roxanne while we were there. He decided that she was fit enough to go so the four of us were ready, but Roxanne seemed to be quite enjoying it. So we turned up, and it was this village hall. It was huge, with probably 200 people there. But as the meeting started, my crucial role was diminished and diminished. So we sat there and we were listening to this guy on the stage talking, brining up his friends one by one to add to what he’d been saying but the hall was so noisy and there were kids running about so it never ever reached our ears. So sinking to our knees, we got into these bowls with our knees and tried to move forward but we couldn’t. One by one, he was inviting people down to give their witness. On one occasion, he said that this one is a judge now amongst everybody. Then he called out the Venerable Harry Dean. As this guy walked down towards the front, Roxanne looked at me and said “the vegetable Harry Dean?” and everyone around us burst into laughter.

This is just the kind of thing that I can imagine Roxanne doing. She would ask a question in a very innocent way but there would be a smile behind her lips that it wouldn’t surprise me if she knew exactly what was going on and had made the mistake deliberately.

The dream, though, reminds me of one of these revivalist meetings in the Deep South of the USA. I never actually managed to visit one, but I heard all about it.

There were a few other things that needed doing, such as checking my e-mails. And amongst them was the monthly report from the shipping group whose “Bay of Granville” shipping detector is installed in my apartment. The little set-up here is apparently covering an area of over two hundred and sixty-three square kilometres, which is not bad going for the equipment that I have.

When I heard movement from the kitchen, I went in there to see what was going on and ended up with a mug of hot coffee and my morning medication. And for some reason or other, we ended up having a lengthy discussion about computer passwords.

The Hound of the Baskervilles didn’t bark at all when he heard the doorbell with Isabelle the Nurse on the other end. Mind you, he did look up when he had a belly rub, as if to say “don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

After Isabelle left for her week’s break, I made breakfast. And while I was eating, I was also reading the last of NOTES ON SOME OF THE ANTIQUITIES OF FRANCE by Charles Roach Smith.

To finish off his book, he’s reading some Carolingian tombstones found in a cemetery in Amiens. That’s a long way from the Cher Valley, but never mind.

Back in here, I began to revise my Welsh for tomorrow, but my body had different ideas.

While I was sitting down at the computer this morning, I dozed off. I dreamt that I was in Crewe and someone had brought into town an articulated lorry with goods in it. When I arrived in West Street, the driver climbed into the passenger seat and I took it over. I drove down West Street and turned into Underwood Lane. We had to drop something off at a factory in Selworthy Drive so I had to drive past Selworthy Drive, he had to climb out and stop the traffic behind me and I had to reverse the lorry from Underwood Lane into Selworthy Drive and then straight back into the factory that was there so that they could unload it, and then the driver who had brought it into Crewe could then take over and carry on with the round that he was doing.

There are no factories in Selworthy Drive, nor have there ever been, nor will there ever be. But stopping the traffic for a reversing lorry is par for the course in industrial areas.

There was still time to do some work, so I pressed on but was overtaken by events when my cleaner arrived. She dealt with my anaesthetic and then tidied up a little before leaving. My friend and I hung around until about 12:55, when we went out into the sun to wait for the taxi.

The girl who picked me up is quite nice and chatty, so we talked all the way to the hospital, where we picked up someone else who wanted to go to Avranches, and our chat, which had now become a three-way chat, continued all the way to dialysis, where I was dropped off.

Today, I was in a different bed than usual, but that’s not a problem. This dialysis isn’t about “seeing all of Normandy in a taxi” or “seeing all of the dialysis centre from a different bed”.

As usual, I was the last to be plugged in, but they had a temporary nurse in from St Malo and he was quite efficient, aided by another nurse who applied a “manual garrote” and the freezing spray to numb the forearm.

There was a third nurse in there too and she’s quite chatty. She came over to see how I was doing, which was nice of her. She has a cousin who’s married to a Welsh guy so I’m secretly teaching her a bit of Welsh so that she can shock him when they meet.

During the dialysis, though, I began to feel nauseous and the head began to spin. The blood pressure seemed to be fine, so it must be me. And it certainly was when the pain in the foot started up. That was a flaming nuisance. I was in agony.

There was some kind of relief when Emilie the Cute Consultant came by. She didn’t stop, but she managed a cheerful “Bonjour, Monsieur Hall”. No-one else received such a greeting, so I considered myself honoured.

Last in, last out as usual but at least it was one of my favourite drivers who would be taking me home, and she was already waiting for me. We had another passenger with us who wanted to be dropped off at Sartilly. After that, we chatted all the way back home where, amongst my comité d’acceuil – “welcoming committee” – was the Hound of the Baskervilles.

My driver fell in love with him straight away and she spent ten minutes giving him a lot of fuss. And he enjoyed every minute of it too. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … why don’t some of these women treat me like that?

Back in the apartment, there was a lovely meal of beans, chips and a burger with a bap and also a pile of garnish. My chips were especially good so I asked my friend the secret. He tells me that he parboils them first for ten minutes, so I shall have to try that.

After I’d done the washing up, I came in here to write out my notes, but I was becoming more and more ill as the evening worsened, so in the end, I said “sod it”, abandoned the notes and went to bed. There’s always another time.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about passwords … "well, one of us has" – ed … I told my friend that I once knew a guy who went to use the name of … errr … a certain part of his body as a password.
My friend asked "what happened?"
"He received an error message" I replied. "Sorry, password not long enough."

Monday 25th May 2026 – THE ALARM DIDN’T …

… go off this morning.

However, there was a reason for that. At 06:29 when the alarm should have gone off, I was at my desk working. I’d switched the alarm off because there was no point in waking up the rest of the household for no good purpose.

In fact, I’d been awake since about 04:00 and, dismal failure that I am, I couldn’t go back to sleep no matter what I tried. I just lay there watching, through the gaps in the shutters, the day slowly dawning. After a while, I thought “this is ridiculous” and heaved myself out of my stinking pit.

So it’s not very often just recently that we’ve recorded an “early start”, but here we are. If I’m too tired later on, I’ll be at dialysis, of course, so if they all let me, I can catch up with my sleep this afternoon.

I suppose that I should have caught up with it last night, but as usual, I was too busy prevaricating to be doing any good about having an early night. For a start, after I’d finished work in here, I had to go into the kitchen for the medication that I’d forgotten and then sort myself out in the bathroom. It was after 23:00 when I finally made it into bed.

For a change, it didn’t take long to go to sleep, and there I lay until about 04:00, as I mentioned earlier.

So, once I was up and about and at my desk, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And to my surprise, there was something on there.

I know it’s strange, but Keighan Jones, the Trefynnon goalkeeper, who was voted the best goalkeeper in Division 2 North just recently, had left Trefynnon and signed for Airbus UK Broughton and I’ve no idea why because both clubs were promoted and he’d be playing in the Premier League anyway if he had stayed, but I don’t know why he decided to leave and go to Airbus.

With this dream, it was actually rather a case of “deja vu” because he left Trefynnon to sign for Airbus a good while ago. However, being “dazed and confused” is nothing at all new around here.

Round about 07:30 or so, I heard the sound of mus … errr … movement in the kitchen so I went to join the assembled multitudes therein. And I was a couple of minutes early because the coffee wasn’t made. But when it was made, it was delicious as usual.

The nurse came along as usual, just as the Hound of the Baskervilles was dragging his master off for walkies, and they collided in the corridor. And not a yowl or bark from the aforementioned. He’s definitely become accustomed to the nurse. And it’s Isabelle the Nurse starting her week tomorrow so he should be even more happy.

The dog was quite happy too.

After the nurse left, I made breakfast and read some more of Charles Roach Smith’s THE ANTIQUITIES OF RICHBOROUGH, RECULVER, AND LYMNE, IN KENT.

It seems that as far as Reculver is concerned, he carried out no excavations at all and is merely relying on second- (and in some cases, third-) hand information about the finds that have been made there. But I suspected something like this when I was reading his references to “Richard of Cirencester”.

After breakfast, I came in here and reviewed the radio programme for the forthcoming weekend. It seemed to be OK so I found a few other things to do while it took its time being sent to the radio station.

Later on, I had a really good wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant later, and then my cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic. I had no idea that the time was passing so quickly. She sorted me out and then took the rubbish across to the bins. I had my disgusting drink and then made myself ready for the taxi.

By 13:00 the taxi hadn’t arrived so, seeing as it was another boiling-hot cloudless day, my friend helped me outside and we stood in the sun, and it was lovely.

The taxi turned up at 13:15 so I piled in, and then we had to go off to Sartilly for our other passenger. Consequently, it was 14:05 when we finally arrived.

As usual, I was the last in so I had to wait, and then the nurses missed their aim when trying to connect me so they had to disconnect what they had done, compress the arm for ten minutes and then start again. It was not far short of 15:00 when I was finally connected.

And this time, they forgot the cold spray so it … errr … hurt somewhat.

There was a lot to drain out today and for four hours at that rate, it was tough going. For half an hour or so, I actually managed to crash out, which was really nice, but it was, as always, at the wrong time because at that moment I had other things to do.

By the time that the session had finished and I was unplugged, compressed and weighed, it was 19:05, and so it was 19:50 when I finally arrived back.

My reception committee was waiting for me, and she helped me back into my apartment where a steaming hot curry was a-waiting. My friend seems to have worked his magic yet again and he can definitely stay as long as he likes.

When I’d finished, I put the leftovers in the freezer for another time and then did all of the washing-up. Back in here afterwards, I wrote up my notes and did everything else that needed to be done, and next I’ll be going back into the kitchen for tonight’s medication. Then I’m off to bed.

That is, if I can. I seem to have become “flavour of the month” with the Hound of the Baskervilles and, instead of being with his master, he’s now lying down, extremely relaxed, at my feet. It’s a good job that I changed my socks.

But seriously, we don’t know why he’s decided to lie down here in my room with me. I must be doing something right.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Hound of the Baskervilles … "well, one of us has" – ed … the other day, the aforementioned was leading a pack of dogs, chasing after two rabbits.
The rabbits slid down a rabbit hole, only to find that the bottom was all blocked up and there was no way out except past the baying hound and his mates.
"What do we do now?" asked the girl rabbit.
The boy rabbit thought for a while and said "I suppose we stay here until we outnumber them."

Monday 11th May 2026 – GOD ALONE KNOWS …

… what happened at dialysis today, but by the time that they’d finished with me and I was ready to leave, I had a spinning head, a strange feeling in my stomach and I was feeling light on my feet. It’s not the volume of liquid that they have taken out of me, because I’ve had much more than this in the past, so I dunno.

It’s probably something related to the bad night that I had last night. I wasn’t in bed as early as I was hoping to be, which was a shame. By the time that I’d finished everything that needed finishing and crawled in underneath the covers, it was about 21:45 and, believe me, I was ready for bed.

As usual, it took an age to go off to sleep, but once I’d gone, I’d gone until all of when I needed to leave the bed to take a stroll down the corridor.

As I was passing the Fusebox on the wall, I checked the time. 01:34. That was a good night’s sleep, I have to say.

Back in here later, I crawled into bed but I just couldn’t go back to sleep again, and there I lay for almost five hours, tossing and turning, until the alarm went off at 06:29.

Eventually, I managed to summon up the courage to go into the bathroom for a wash and shave, and then in the kitchen, I washed my medication down with a mouthful of orange juice. After all, it’s dialysis day today.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

There was something about having to massage a different leg than usual. This was more swollen, maybe, than the other one. But when I went to dialysis, they began to extract the water from that leg instead of out of my left arm.

That wasn’t much good, was it? I could do with more exciting dreams than that! But this idea of “a different leg” – how many legs do you think I have? I’m not Jake the Peg.

However, dreaming about dialysis is not just scraping the bottom of the barrel, it’s going through the barrel and into the mud underneath.

The nurse turned up today as usual and chatted about not very much. He’s off on his week’s break this evening so as he left, I wished him a nice break.

Once he’d gone, I could make my breakfast and finish off the last of REPORT ON EXCAVATIONS MADE UPON THE SITE OF THE ROMAN CASTRUM AT PEVENSEY by Charles Roach Smith.

To be quite honest, this book was something of a washout. Roach Smith spends just about three or four pages discussing the excavations, and the rest is comparing the site with other Roman sites elsewhere. As for the finds, there are about three pages of coins tucked away in the appendices. I hope that the next book is more enlightening and interesting.

Back in here, there were a few things that I needed to do, and then I had to check over the radio programme that I was sending off for broadcast this weekend. Afterwards, I made a start on my Welsh homework. There’s still another week before it needs to be in but I want to press on if I can.

As usual, my faithful cleaner turned up to put the anaesthetic on my arm, and then I had to wait for the taxi. And wait, and wait and wait.

The taxi was half an hour late coming for me, but it was my favourite driver so I didn’t mind too much. We had to go to Sartily to pick up another passenger, and so we were hours late arriving at dialysis.

It was in fact 14:45 when I was finally plugged in, and so that meant another really late night arriving home.

With the two bad nights that I’ve had, I was hoping to have a good sleep this afternoon to catch up, but it wasn’t to be. There was a constant stream of visitors this afternoon, and when there wasn’t, the machine was playing up so that brought the nurses running every five minutes.

On top of that, firstly, the doctor came to see me. I had to take a “sample” to him today, so he told me that they were going to analyse it to see whether it’s the dialysis that’s “causing these problems” for me (whatever “these problems” are) and if so, they’ll “do something to help solve the problem”. I don’t like the sound of that one minute.

And then we had the dietician. Apparently, she’d been talking to Emilie the Cute Consultant and they’ve found an intravenous drip that they think might work plugged into the dialysis machine. I don’t like the sound of that either, but at least it means that I shan’t have it stuck in a vein or something.

The way things are, I’m beginning to regret ever having said anything to anyone at dialysis.

Once again, I was the last to be unplugged, but luckily the driver was waiting to take me back home. And it was another one of my favourite drivers so we had a lovely talk all the way home, mainly about cancer and suicide, would you believe? She had quite a story to tell me.

My cleaner was waiting for me when we arrived. She helped me into the apartment and sorted me out.

After she left, I came in here to write up my notes, and now I’m off to bed. Now that the coughing seems to have calmed down, it’s really annoying that there’s something else now that seems to be keeping me awake.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about different legs … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of an incident at Balmoral Castle all those years ago when a serving wench, serving Prince Philip, suddenly burst out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
"What’s the matter, girl?" asked the Queen. "Are you feeling hysterical?"
"Och, no, ma’am. He’s feeling mine."

Monday 4th May 2026 – I’M REALLY GLAD …

… that I didn’t have to go to dialysis this morning. I would probably have never even made it to the front door.

As I told Isabelle the Nurse later, this morning was the worst that I had ever felt in my life.

It didn’t seem like that last night, though. It’s true that with baking my loaf and all of that last night, I was quite late starting to write my notes. And with everything else that I have to do too, it ended up being well after 22:00 that I finally finished everything and crawled under the quilt covers.

As usual, it took a good while to go to sleep, but I awoke at some point due to a desperate coughing fit, so desperate that it caused me to vomit no fewer than four times. After that, somehow I managed to go back to sleep.

But not for long. I awoke again, this time for a different reason, and when I checked the time, it was 03:54. So when I’d finished walking the parapet, I came back to bed but I couldn’t go back to sleep. There I lay until the alarm went off at 06:29.

At that point, it was a desperate struggle to rise to my feet and I almost didn’t make it. And in the bathroom, I crashed out on the chair in there at least twice while I was trying to sort myself out.

Not surprisingly, I was hours late going into the kitchen, but as it’s a Dialysis Day, I just had a mouthful of grapefruit juice to wash down my medication.

Back in here, I fell asleep in my chair I don’t know how many times, but even so, I managed to transcribe the dictaphone notes.

This was a dream about a girl whom I knew in school but unfortunately it vanished as soon as I reached for the dictaphone. That was a shame because it was one of these extremely interesting. One part that I do remember is that some kind of booklet had been published and that a friend of mine who was a critic had given very positive reviews. But it turned out that it was one of these “new wave” books, talking about lesbianism, that kind of thing. It was denounced in several countries because of its theme and she was put on some kind of list to prevent entry into many of these countries because of her critique

What a pity that I can’t recall the first part of this dream. It sounds as if it might have been interesting. I wonder who the girl was too.

As for the second part, this appears to relate to nothing at all.

When Isabelle the Nurse turned up, I told her of my woes, and she insisted that I talk to a doctor about them. She has agreed that this has gone beyond a joke.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright. However, I can’t remember anything that I read. I do, however, remember falling asleep four or five times while I was eating, despite how strong I’d made the coffee.

Back in here, I fell asleep for an hour in my chair and then gradually came round into the Land of the Living. I spent the next fifty minutes researching the next radio programme and then went to prepare my things for dialysis.

My faithful cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic and then I had to wait for the taxi. We had to go to Sartilly to pick someone else up, and so we were late arriving at dialysis. It goes without saying that I was one of the last to be plugged in too.

While I was being attended to, I mentioned that I would like to see the doctor on duty, so my nurse made a note. And once she’d left, instead of doing any work, I settled down and went to sleep – in so far as it was possible to do so in there.

There were all kinds of people buzzing around my head, but I didn’t take very much notice. It turns out that with everything that I had told them about the fatigue, they had turned the machine up to “maximum” and prolonged the stay from three and a half to four hours. Consequently, just over 3500 ml of fluid was being extracted and my dry weight was set well below my “sporty” weight.

The doctor on duty who came to see me was Emilie the Cute Consultant. She told me that the fibroscopy had discovered two aggressive microbes in my lungs, and so she would prescribe a course of aggressive antibiotics to deal with it. I hope that their aggressiveness matches the microbes – or at least gives me some relief.

While I was at it, I was also having a little chat with an old schoolfriend who now lives in Crewe. He was doing his best to console me, which was very nice.

It was one of my favourite taxi drivers who came to pick me up, and because we had to fuel up with diesel at the depot, we were later than ever arriving home. My faithful cleaner helped me into the apartment and after she left, I came in here to write up my notes. No tea again.

So now that I’ve written up my notes, there are still a few things to do and then I’m off to bed, hoping for a better day tomorrow. After all, it could hardly have been worse today, could it?

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the contents of my lungs … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone once asked me "do you know what ‘bacteria’ are?"
"They are the rear entrances to cafés, aren’t they?" I replied.

EPIC HALL

The Poisoned Pen (or Poisoned Chalice, more like) – or my relentless struggle against reality

Category Archives: sartilly

Thursday 27th August 2026 – WHAT AN AFTERNOON …

Monday 24th August 2026 – NOW HERE’S A …

Monday 17th August 2026 – THESE UNHAPPY, UNCERTAIN …

Monday 3rd August 2026 – ANOTHER TOUGH DAY …

Monday 27th July 2026 – THERE HAS BEEN …

Monday 20th July 2026 – NOT ANOTHER MARATHON …

Monday 13th July 2026 – JUST FOR A …

Monday 29th June 2026 – ANOTHER DISMAL, DESPERATE …

Monday 22nd June 2026 – WHAT A DAY …

Monday 15th June 2026 – HAVING CRAWLED MISERABLY …

Monday 8th June 2026 – I’M COMPLETELY FED UP …

Monday 1st June 2026 – AFTER SEVERAL WEEKS …

Monday 25th May 2026 – THE ALARM DIDN’T …

Monday 11th May 2026 – GOD ALONE KNOWS …

Monday 4th May 2026 – I’M REALLY GLAD …

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