Category Archives: France

Monday 27th April 2026 – TODAY HAS NOT …

… been much better than the last couple of days, unfortunately.

As seems to be usual these days, I was later than I would have liked to have been, going to bed last night. With the football that ran on until about 20:15, by the time that I’d finished what needed to be done and sorted out myself in the bathroom, it was about 21:30 when I finally settled down in bed.

Something else that is also becoming usual these days too is the fact that it took me longer than usual to drop off to sleep, But once I’d gone, I was gone.

Whatever time it was that I awoke, I had no idea, but it can’t have been long after I’d dropped off to sleep, because the electric water heater hadn’t switched on, so it was obviously before midnight. And there I lay, tossing and turning and coughing for the rest of the night until the alarm went off at 06:29.

It took a good while for me to leave the edge of my bed and stagger off into the bathroom, where, as well as a good wash, I had a good shave too in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. By the time that I arrived in the kitchen, it was much later than usual, but no hot drink today. It’s Dialysis Day, so just a quick mouthful of orange juice to wash down my medication.

Back in here, I transcribed the dictaphone notes from the previous night and they are now online, all of them. And what an effort that was. There weren’t any notes from last night – after all, if you don’t sleep for long, you don’t really have the time to go far.

The nurse came along as usual, and it shows you just how interested he is, in that he’d forgotten why I had been to the hospital on Friday morning. I certainly hadn’t!

After he had left, I made my breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we’re discussing interments and cremations, and so far, he’s managing to steer clear of any controversial subject. However, every time that he states that “it is, in my mind, undisputed that …” my immediate reflection is to go to check.

After breakfast, I came back in here and did a few things that needed doing (and didn’t do a lot of things that did) and then finished my Welsh homework. And that took much longer than it ought to have done too, what with having to reformat it into a *.pdf so that I could send it off for marking.

All the time that that was going on, I was having a chat, mostly about cats, would you believe, with an old school friend who now lives in Crewe, but I had to abandon in the end because it was time to gather up my things for dialysis.

My faithful cleaner came to sort out my anaesthetic. We had a really good chat and then, after she left, I had to go to … errr … walk the parapet, where I was caught in flagrante delicto by the taxi driver who came fifteen minutes early. “Still, the sooner we start, the sooner we finish” said Yours Truly, not knowing what the fates had in store for him.

There was already someone else in the car and we had a third passenger to pick up en route, the lady from the Old People’s Home at Sartilly, but even so, we were still early arriving.

It made no difference to me, though. I was still one of the last to be plugged in. And once more, after four days of no dialysis, I was still under my dry weight when I checked in. It’s amazing what no food will do for you.

There is one nurse there who is … well … a little lacking in tolerance than the rest, so guess who I had. And throughout the whole session, she did nothing but try to make me feel guilty about not being able to perform any of the procedures myself.

Let’s face it – there are people who have what I consider to be an irrational fear of spiders, or clowns, or anything else for that matter, but I don’t spend all of the time criticising them. By the end of the session, it had reached such an extent that I almost told her where to stick her plasters, instead of on my arm.

Another thing that really got my goat was that not one of the doctors on duty there came to discuss Friday morning with me. That they might not yet have received the results would be no surprise, but at least they might have come to talk about the visit and “what happens next”.

During the session, I was so wracked with coughing fits that I vomited again. This isn’t turning out very well.

The nurse had the last laugh. I’m convinced that she terminated the session early. I have an automatic blood-pressure test every thirty minutes, but I definitely counted one short of however many there should have been.

When the disconnection was complete, I had to wait twenty-five minutes for the taxi, and when he arrived, he confirmed the time for which he’d been summoned, which agreed with my suspicions. But then, we had to wait another twenty-five minutes for the lady from Sartilly to finish. It’s definitely not my day, is it?

My cleaner was waiting for me as usual, and she helped me into the apartment. And after she left, I said a phrase that has a connection, albeit distant, with a lump of turf and came in here to write out my notes.

Now that they are finished, I have no idea and neither do I care, but I’m off to bed, without a meal yet again. As I came into the building, I could smell chips being cooked, and quite frankly, it turned my stomach

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my cleaner … "well, one of us has" – ed … she and I were discussing apartments on sale around here in case my friend from Munich ever wants to come to join us up here in the “Monaco du Nord”.
There was one that I’d seen that looked quite nice, so I mentioned it.
"Do you know how much that costs?"
"No Idea" I replied
"It’s on sale at one million three!" she exclaimed.
Which, at that point, we both said in unison, completely impromptu, "between the two of us, we could probably manage the ‘three’. But where would we find the rest?"

Sunday 26th April 2026 – I AM OBVIOUSLY …

… feeling a little better, because as I begin to write these notes, it’s 20:20 And I haven’t gone to bed yet.

Mind you, after all of the sleep that I had yesterday, it’s hardly a surprise. As I said yesterday, I was totally wasted by about 18:30, and it wasn’t many minutes after that that I was underneath the covers.

It took a few minutes for me to go to sleep, and there I stayed until I don’t know what time, when I awoke. It was still totally dark outside but the electric water heater was on, so it must have been some time between midnight and 05:00, and my money is on earlier rather than later.

So for a few hours, I lay there, coughing my head off, and then I must have gone back to sleep because the next thing that I knew, there was bright sunlight streaming in around the edges of the shutters.

When the nurse arrived, I pretended to be asleep, but once he’d gone, feeling wide awake, I sat on the edge of the bed waiting for the bedroom to come to a halt. And I’ll tell you something for nothing, and that is that it took me seventy-five minutes from first sitting on the edge of the bed to going into the kitchen. That’s what kind of state I was in this morning.

For my medication, I took a mouthful or two of orange juice again and then made breakfast – the last two of my home-made croissants. I shall have to make some more now – after all, they do taste nice with porridge and strong black coffee.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, but believe it or not, I forgot to check the dictaphone. However, I managed to check it he following day and the notes that I added in are below

There had been a release of political prisoners in the Soviet Union and they had been sent to the West. This had immediately caused controversy because one of them was a water polo professional, and she was immediately recruited into the English, whereas many other countries felt that she should have at least undergone a three-year residence qualification. It was part of my job to look into the cases of these people who were brought over to the UK and make a report on them. It meant visiting the places that they visited, doing the things that they were doing. On one occasion, this involved going to a cinema, a really posh cinema, and eventually, we managed to find our seats. But we were so cramped in at the front row by this couple who were quite big, that I had difficulty moving. I was losing a shoe, and it felt as if my arm was being trapped behind this large gentleman’s shoulder. Everything went on for probably an hour. In the end, a hostess came along and took this couple for a meal or something like that, leaving the two of us – it was not Nerina but someone like her. She stood up, so I asked her if she had enjoyed the film. She made a grimace so I stood up to go too. As the two of us came out, there was a look back, and there was an artificial rose on a stand by where my partner had been sitting and it was looking quite nice, so I congratulated her on it. We came back to Gainsborough Road, and it was probably March or something – it was a dark day and it was wet. I was struggling here to put on a sweater. IN fact, I couldn’t manage it so I thought that I would go inside. She was looking at the garden, planning things, so I said to her “isn’t it about time that we started off some lettuce in the conservatory place?” but she didn’t really answer to that.

This is another one of those dreams that doesn’t seem to fit into anywere. However, the only conservatory that I knew was the one down on the farm, and I did start off some of my plants, including the lettuce, in there.

I was working in the Diplomatic Service and we were staying at a hotel where the Russian Diplomatic Service was also staying. One night, on the way home as I was coming into the hotel, I found a set of keys on the floor, so I picked them up and went to hand them in at the reception desk, but I noticed that they were for the floor above mine, roughly where the Russian embassy was. I thought that in the small hours, I’d creep in to see what was happening. If the door is alarmed, a junior member being sent home in disgrace would be much better than a senior member. I went up and gently opened myself into the room. It was empty, and so was the bathroom suite, but there were plenty of leaflets and information there. I found where the ambassador was partying, which was further down West Street from where our hotel was, so I set out. Because I didn’t have my crutches, I had to go on my hands and knees all the way down West Street. Eventually I was let into the building, but he took a lot of persuading to come away from his party. Eventually, in a room on our own, which contained a shower, I told him of what I had found. He began to talk about it, but it was a very lengthy conversation about nothing in particular, and then he beckoned to me to come outside, and we went for a walk. By now, I was walking properly with no crutches, and he asked me about this parade that was taking place in Crewe about peace. I said that it was all about idealists who wanted to live the way they wanted to live, which, I said, was not a bad idea, but they didn’t think things through far enough. In a lock-up garage where we were looking around, some old lady came in and looked around with us. She apologised for not being dressed as a very good witch, so I told her that there would be plenty of good witches out there in the crowd today. We walked all the way down West Street, had a curry and then walked all the way back looking at these old cars on display and everything, and they were really old and ancient, the types that had hand-made bodies and so on. I felt that the minister was killing time so that there wouldn’t be enough time for anyone senior than me to go along and investigate this room, and this had me puzzled.

What a strange dream this was. There was never in my lifetime a hotel in West Street in Crewe, and even if there had been, the chances that anyone from the British embassy or the Russian Embassy would be staying there would be just about zero.

Going down West Street on my hands and knees would be dangerous too, with all the broken glass about, but apart from that, I really did feel that I was being shunted off into a corner, as if the Minister were intent on keeping me away from the subject.

My first job today, though, was to write out yesterday’s notes, which are now online, following which I attacked some more of my Welsh homework. There’s not much now left to finish tomorrow morning before I need to send it off.

We then had a little footfest.

Firstly, we had Ross County v Greenock Morton, and I do have to say that I have never seen such a shambles. Bottom-of-the-League Ross County made short work of thrashing Morton 4-0, and it was well-deserved too. Morton were totally dreadful.

Following that, we had Stranraer at home to Stirling Albion. This game finished 1-1 but Stranraer should have been down the road and out of sight a long time before the final whistle, given the number of clear-cut chances that they created.

And then, I had a little wobble for a while. Not exactly crashing out, but one of those situations that I have every now and again when I can’t seem to move a muscle. And that was how I stayed for over forty-five minutes before I was able to go into the kitchen for a disgusting drink.

The day was finished off with the second of the two European play-off semis. And in a change from yesterday’s poor game, we had two teams going at it hammer and tongs, playing as if they actually wanted to win it.

Y Barri took the lead early in the game from another one of these “let’s play it out from the back, boys” calamities that we see so often in modern football, and Hwlffordd equalised with about fifteen minutes to go.

So, once more, we had a penalty shoot-out, and as far as Y Barri goes, a well-known phrase involving a stringed musical instrument and the nether regions of a ruminant animal springs to mind. So next week, it’s Penybont at home to Hwlffordd.

But it should have been a totally different story had the referee awarded to Y Barri the two penalties that everyone else in the ground except him and a linesman would have awarded them.

So right now, I’m off to bed, ready to fight the good fight again next week and see where we end up. I need to pull myself round and crack on with something. I can’t continue like this.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about waking up … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends once told me that he had one of those things that used to make a screeching noise when it was time to wake up, and made you a cup of tea.
"So what happened to it?" I asked
"Ohh, nothing much." he replied. "I got divorced so in the end, I just bought a Teasmaid."

Saturday 25th April 2026 – I AM BEGINNING …

… to feel a little better today, especially this afternoon when I began to feel something more like human.

Mind you, anything is bound to be an improvement after the events of Friday. Let’s just say that a fibreoscopy is one of those things added to my list of “never a second time” – such as a ponction thoracique and a biopsie musculaire. In fact, when I look at the tortures through which I have been put since I fell ill in 2015, I’m amazed that I’m still here, fighting on.

Yesterday put the tin hat on it all. I’d slept almost all the afternoon and being totally unable to function when I awoke at 18:00, I simply did the barest minimum of what needed doing, wrote yet another terse note as my blog entry and then crawled under the covers.

And I slept too. Out like a light for I don’t know how many hours, but when I did awake, the electric water heater was on, so it was certainly after midnight. At some point, I had to leave the bed, and when I checked, it was 04:45. When I’d done what I needed to do, I went back to bed and, to my relief, back to sleep.

The alarm sounded as usual at 06:29 and it took me an age to leave the bed. It really did, and I was so late going for my medication that there was just enough time for a mouthful of orange juice to wash it all down. Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

There was something about being in a rock group last night, and all of our equipment was on a cart being pulled by a donkey. However, the donkey escaped and we all had to go to look for it. Eventually, someone found it and brought it back. Nevertheless, it tried to escape again, and we then worked out that, for some reason, this donkey hated to be called a donkey – it preferred being called by some other names, so we had to think of a few names and try them out on the donkey. Once we found one, with which the donkey agreed, we could then proceed. However, we had then to be very careful not to call the animal a donkey.

It beats me where this idea of transporting our equipment on a donkey-drawn cart fits in, but regular readers of this rubbish will recall that Greece has figured quite a lot in some of our dreams just recently. This is the only connection that I can see.

However, I’m not sure whether I’ve talked about this “self-identify crisis” recently … "yes you have" – ed … with people being allowed to identify as “trans”, “cis” (whatever that is), “asexual”, “furry” and all of a thousand other things. I couldn’t care less if a man wants to wear a dress and wear make-up or whether a woman wants to walk out in a catsuit. We are supposed to “take their feelings into consideration”, which is all very well and no-one is going to argue with that, but who takes into consideration the feelings of women who want a safe space free from masculine intrusion?

It reminds me of one of my passengers on the taxis, a guy called Booth, who totally cleared the ladies’ public toilets of the Royal Hotel in Crewe when some action that he took whilst in there revealed him to be a man. He was subsequently fined quite heavily for a “public order offence”.

And, of course, now we have our donkey wishing to self-identify as something else.

The nurse came as usual, but he didn’t seem to be very interested in the events of yesterday. We had a little chat as he sorted out my feet, and then he left.

Once he’d gone out of the door, I made breakfast, but I couldn’t get my head around THE CELT, THE ROMAN AND THE SAXON by Thomas Wright, so I left it for a better day when I’d be feeling much more like it.

After I’d had a little doze at the breakfast table, I came back in here to attend to a few things and then to write up my notes from yesterday. They are all now online, and I could concentrate on the next part of the day, which was the football.

It was the first match of the “also rans” in their attempt to qualify for the one remaining European place, so we had Colwyn Bay at home to Penybont. Colwyn Bay haven’t won for the last three games, whereas Penybont haven’t won since – I think – November, except for a squalid and depressing 1-0 win against bottom club Llanelli.

The game was as poor as it could have been, with a couple of rather inept attacks huffing and puffing but failing to blow the house down of some rather average defences. The number of good chances in this game could be counted on the fingers of one hand. It inevitably went to a penalty shoot-out, where, surprisingly, Penybont won 4-2.

Let’s hope that the other match on Sunday late afternoon between Y Barri and Hwlffordd is much better than this one was.

Once the game was over, I worked upon the radio programme for a while, finishing off the selection of the music, reformatting, remixing and re-editing all of the songs, and then pairing and segueing them. I’ll write the notes some other time.

Another thing that I did was my Welsh homework, but by 18:30, I’d run out of steam yet again so I abandoned everything and climbed into bed, and that was that. Who said anything about “beginning to feel a little better”?

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about self-identifying … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone once came downstairs to announce to his parents that he wished to self-identify as a cat.
A few hours later, he came downstairs at teatime but couldn’t see his meal on the table.
"Where’s my tea?" he asked
"Over there, on the floor by the sink in the silver bowl," said his father. "And by the way, wear something warm under your catsuit because, at 23:00 when we go to bed, we’ll be putting you outside with all of the other cats."

Friday 24th April 2026 – WHAT A HORRIBLE …

… if not gruesome day I’ve had today. It’s been easily the worst day that I have ever had in my life and I’m really glad that it’s over.

Yesterday, there was no sign or suggestion of any of this. I’d finished everything that needed finishing by 21:30, and so, a couple of minutes later, I went to bed, hoping for a really good, stress-free night.

However, in that, I was quite disappointed. Although I went to sleep shortly after going to bed, it was only the sleep of a moment. I was soon awake, and wide-awake too, and there I stayed for the rest of the night. Nothing seemed to be able to help me go back to sleep, although I actually found a way of lying that actually stopped me coughing. It was quite uncomfortable, but it worked fine until I rolled over subsconsciously into another position.

Eventually, at long last, the alarm went off but it took an age for me to rise to my feet and head for the bathroom.

This morning, I’m supposed to be à jeun – in famine mode. Even a glass of water is banned, but I can take some water to wash down the medication, so I prepared today’s dosage, with the relaxing pill amongst them, ready to take when the driver arrives to take me to Avranches.

It was the same driver as yesterday evening – the Belgian girl – and she’s great fun. But today was much more serious. When we arrived at the hospital, she found a wheelchair for me, and then after registration, she pushed me up to the third floor and my appointment with doom.

We had to wait ten minutes for someone to come to see me, and at that point, my driver said “goodbye”. She told me that she’d be thinking of me and that she’d send me some healing vibes, which was nice, and then she patted me on the shoulder as she left, which was sweet of her.

In the operating theatre, or whatever you call it, I asked if there was gas available. The doctor told me that this examination was not compulsory and that I could opt out of it if I liked. I told him that I knew that, but I can’t go on like this, with all of this coughing.

The doctor made me lie flat on the bed with my head tilted back. Two nurses held me by the hands, but they were … welll … I wouldn’t like to meet them on my own up a dark alley late at night. You could tell by the force that they were using that they were intent on stopping my arms flailing around as I had a panic attack.

The doctor poured some anaesthetic down my nose to deaden it, and it overflowed into my mouth. One of the nurses told me to swallow it – she said that it would anaesthetise my throat.

And then they began.

Despite the anaesthetic, I don’t want to relive those moments again. And neither do I want to relive the moments when they withdrew it. The doctor told me that he’d cleaned my bronchii, which I could tell that he had. He said that he didn’t recall seeing anyone as clogged up as me

They had asked me if I lived alone as I came in, and as the answer was in the affirmative, I had to wait in the waiting room for an hour before they called the taxi to take me home.

The driver eventually appeared, pushing a wheelchair. I’d asked my Belgian friend to warn the next driver that a wheelchair would be necessary. He took me downstairs and pushed me to the car, where someone was already installed inside. Consequently, we had to go via Mont Perrett to drop him off on the way home.

As my faithful cleaner wasn’t there today, I asked the driver if he would accompany me to the apartment. He took the car round to the back of the building where the distance is shorter and the floor is much better, and then went into my bedroom for the office chair. He sat me on it and then pushed me all the way into the bedroom before leaving.

Once he’d gone, I crashed out immediately.

My faithful cleaner awoke me when she came in later to do her stuff, and I managed to make my breakfast at that point.

However, once she’d gone, I crashed out yet again and didn’t awaken until 18:00. And at that point, I was practically unable to function. Consequently, I just posted a terse notes on my blog page and that was that. I climbed into bed and went straight to sleep. What a horrible day.

But here’s a thing – with your vision, you are normally moving your head and all of the frames in your little “film” merge together to make an evenly flowing “film”. Since this morning, it’s as if my vision is sticking and then suddenly, the image seems to jump a few frames to catch up. It’s a totally weird situation.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about vision problems … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone went to the doctor’s to complain about their vision.
"I’m seeing nothing but spots before my eyes, doctor. Can you help?" he asked.
"You really need to see an opthalmist, you know." replied the doctor. "Have you seen one yet?"
"No, doctor. Just spots!"

Thursday 23rd April 2026 – HERE I AM …

… running hours late yet again, but tell me – if you had the choice between coming inside to your miserable, depressing life in here or standing outside in the absolutely glorious evening sun, chatting to friends and neighbours, what would you do?

That’s right, it’s been the most beautiful day of the year today, with not even a single cloud in the sky to put a damper on the proceedings, so naturally, I had to spend the afternoon in dialysis, didn’t I?

Still, at least last night wasn’t as bad as some have been.

By the time that I’d finished my notes etc. and was ready for bed, it was just about 22:00, later than I would like but never mind. I was soon under the covers, all nice and comfortable, and although it took, as usual, quite a while to go off to sleep, I was so comfortable that it didn’t really matter.

However, a few hours later, also as usual, I was awake again. No sign of going off to sleep so I ended up counting sheep. I had quite a flock but eventually I must have fallen asleep because when the alarm went off at 06:29 as usual, it awoke me.

And, also as usual, it took an age for me to struggle to my feet and go into the bathroom, where I had a good scrub-up and even a shave, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Not hot drink this morning – just a small mouthful of orange juice to wash down my medication – and then back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during what little night I’d had.

At some point, I dreamed that I was helping a girl who used to live in the Auvergne move her crockery and things like that. We had to be very careful with some of it because the handles could easily break. She sent a mail to me to tell me that someone else was coming along to help, and I should give him the same warning too. Then, in the dream, my alarm went off and I leapt out of bed and put on some football gear that was lying around in my room, as if I were going to be playing in a football match. Then, I found myself back in the bed and I wondered what happened to the alarm and me dressed in – that I was still in bed in my night clothes.

That’s something that I’ve done a few times, helping people move house, and I’ve done more than just a few of those in the Auvergne. But I’m sure that some people will recall who this girl might be if I were to mention that it’s par for the course for her to disappear as soon as the work starts.

The nurse turned up as usual, and I mentioned that I had a taxi coming for me at 08:00 so he’ll need to be here beforehand to sort out my legs and feet. His response, quite typically, was “go to bed tonight in your socks. I won’t be able to make it”. No surprise there.

After he left, I made breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we’re talking about religion, and here’s a surprising thing. Our author tells us "Over the left shoulder of Saturn is a sickle in form of our modern bill-hook, Sol wears a radiated crown, Luna, a crescent, Mars is helmeted and carries a shield, the head of Mercury is winged, the bust of Jupiter has been injured, and his emblems are not clearly to be recognised, Venus carries a mirror. Other museums in Germany, I am informed, contain sculptures of the planets similarly arranged."

In France, and in many other places too, I would imagine, it’s the custom, and has been for hundreds of years at least, to draw and sculpt images of the saints, each with his or her own particular emblem. One saint is always seen with a child, another with a loaf of bread, another with a dog and so on. I wonder if this dates back to the very early years of Christianity and is a reflection of adopting the practice from the Roman gods.

While I was sitting at the table, I crashed out yet again, and while I was away, I was off on my travels.

While I was having another little doze at the breakfast table, I dreamed that I was playing with the Spencer Davis Group at a festival in Greece. After we’d played, we took a boat and went across the strait to an island to look at the lighthouse there. However, we weren’t impressed so we came back. However, we didn’t land near our hotel but at a secluded beach about a mile down the coast. We came ashore on some kind of jetty and one of our party threw a plastic bottle into the sea. We found a place to spread out and lie down, but I went for an explore. I came across another hotel that was being used for concert performers and crew, so I went in. For some reason, I came out of the lift at the second floor and walked along the corridor, looking at the names of the occupants, and down at the far end, I saw the name of a former girlfriend from school. I knocked and went in to say hello, and she was delighted to see me. Her room had a window that tilted horizontally in the middle, so I tilted it wide open and flew outside for a good look. Back in the room, we were discussing her career. I told her that honestly, only one person in a thousand at this level makes it to the top. She replied that she was determined to work as hard as it takes so that the one person in a thousand would be her.

Dreams about me flying are very rare indeed. I’ll have to go back probably twenty years for the last one.

But as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, we went to GREECE in 2013 and spent a happy week on Anxios, one of the Sporadic Islands, but not with the Spencer Davis Group. And I didn’t meet a girlfriend from school there either.

Back in here, I spent a little while sorting out a few things and then attacking the radio programme. It’s still been a struggle tracking down the music that I want, and one day, I hope that I will have what I need.

My cleaner turned up as usual to help me with the anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the taxi to arrive. Bang on time he turned up, but with all of the roadworks and having to go to pick up someone else, we were late arriving at Avranches.

Late arriving means late being plugged in and with the machine playing up, I was resigned to it being a long session. One of the doctors (not Emilie the Cute Consultant, unfortunately) came to see me, and she told me that they were going to reduce my dry weight. “At long, long last!” I said to myself. “Now we can go about doing this properly”.

When I’d finished everything, I was next-to-last leaving but my taxi driver, one of my favourites, was waiting for me and we had a good chat as she drove me home. But once again, we were caught up in the roadworks so we ended up being late back. And after my neighbourhood chat, it was even much later when I came back in here. But it was worth it, being out in the sun.

After my cleaner left, I had half a piece of chocolate cake and home-made ice cream and then came back in here to finish off everything. And in a short while, I’ll be off to bed. I’m not looking forward to tomorrow, as you can imagine.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about counting sheep … "well, one of us has" – ed … out on a ranch in the Australian outback, the ranch owner asked a farmhand "how many sheep do we have?".
"No idea" said the farmhand.
"But I’ve sent you out three times now to count them."
"I know, but every time I reach ‘six’, I fall asleep!"

Wednesday 22nd April 2026 – NOT YET ANOTHER …

… night like last night! I can’t stand many more of these. Especially as I made a point of finishing everything early last night.

After knocking off work at about 19:30, I began to write up my notes, and after one of the shortest blog entries in modern times, finishing off everything that needed finishing and sorting myself out in the bathroom, it wasn’t even 21:00, and it was still daylight when I crawled in under the covers.

As seems to be the case these days, it took a while to go to sleep, but once I’d gone, I was asleep for – ohhh, I dunno – three hours, maybe. I’ve no real idea because I didn’t look at the time.

After that, I lay awake, coughing myself to death and ruminating over my guilty conscience yet again, but just as I began to feel the need to leave the bed, for the usual reasons, the alarm went off at its usual time of 06:29.

As usual, it took an absolute age for me to summon up the energy and the morale to leave the bed, but after I’d sorted myself out in the bathroom, I was sat on the chair in there for quite a while, unable to move.

My arrival in the kitchen was considerably later than usual, but I made my hot drink and took my medication and then came back in here to check the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

Mind you, I needn’t have bothered, because there was nothing on it again today. But then again, if you don’t go to sleep for very long, it doesn’t leave much time for travelling.

There were a few other things that needed my attention, but I was interrupted by the arrival of the nurse who came to sort out my legs and feet. We also had a little chat about my sleep issues, although they didn’t help much. He was pleased that I don’t take a medication to help me sleep, although he didn’t say why.

After he left, I made my breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

We’re now discussing industry and, at the moment, pottery. Apart from being confused by his adherence to “Richard of Cirencester”, he’s not come up with anything particularly controversial so far.

However, he made a reference to the Roman fort at Ambleside, which I followed up, and while I was reading about the site, I came across something interesting.

The excavations at the fort had shown that it had been destroyed on two occasions, and outside the east gate, there was an enormous collection of leaden slingshot pellets. The indications are that they had been fired from the walls of the fort, presumably aimed at attackers. There were two distinct kinds of slingshot, made of lead from different sources, suggesting that there had been two attacks at the fort, separated by a lengthy period.

The most surprising find, however, was that of a tablet that may well have been part of a tombstone, and the inscription on that part reads “killed within the fort by the enemy” – indicating that the fort had been invaded but the Romans had managed to regain control within a short space of time.

While I was eating, would you believe that I fell asleep on the chair? And while I was asleep, I was off on my travels.

While I was asleep, I was driving a narrow-gauge steam locomotive up an incline but was running out of steam. I left the controls and helped the fireman shovel more coal into the boiler but even so, we were slowly grinding to a halt. I arranged to stop at a distant signal where there was a telephone so I could telephone Control to tell them, because it was a single line and I would be blocking it. Control told me to roll back a quarter of a mile where there was a siding and I could put the train in there while I built up steam. I thought to myself that a three-and-a-half-hour sleep would do me a world of good, but then I realised that to build up steam probably wouldn’t even take ten minutes.

Much as I have an interest in railways, especially closed ones, unlike most small boys, I never had any ambition to be a steam locomotive driver. I do, however, have a friend who is a part-time guard with one of the “great little trains of Wales”. Consequently, I have no idea to what this dream relates.

As for a good, long sleep, I’m open to one of those at any time

Back in here, I finished off what I’d been doing and then began work on the radio programme that I’d started yesterday. And by 17:00, I’d finished selecting all of the music, reformatted, remixed, re-edited, paired and segued it, and written all of the notes. That was despite an interruption from my cleaner who brought the medicine that was outstanding from yesterday.

There was another interruption too, from the hospital. They ‘phoned me to say that I need to be at the hospital at 09:00 on Friday for this fibreoscopy. Still, I suppose that the sooner we start, the sooner we’re finished.

After a pause of about an hour, I started on the next radio programme and by the time I’d knocked off at 19:15, I’d identified all of the artists whom I wanted to appear in it and had even begun to select the music. Considering that I thought that I’d be lucky to prepare one programme this week, that was good going.

When I finished, I went into the kitchen, where I had a piece of my chocolate cake with my home-made ice cream, and then came back in here to write my notes.

Now that they are finished, there are a few other things to do, and then I’m off to bed, hoping for a much better night than those just recently … "he’ll be lucky" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about railway guards … "well, one of us has" – ed … my friend, before he retired, was a schoolmaster, teaching geography.
He once asked me "what’s the difference between a schoolmaster and a railway guard?"
"I’ve no idea" I replied
"Well, the one trains the mind – the other minds the train."

Tuesday 21st April 2026 – WHAT ANOTHER HORRIBLE …

… day I’ve had today. It was just like last Friday, or the Saturday before, when the girls were here.

By the time that I’d finished all of the things that I needed to do last night and had sorted myself out in the bathroom, it was just about 22:00 so I gratefully slid under the covers of the bed.

As usual these days, it took a while to go off to sleep, but it didn’t last long. Awoken by dreadful coughing fits and the stabbing pain in my foot, despite the painkillers that I’d taken before going to bed, it must have been quite early at that point. I’ve no idea what time it was, because I couldn’t be bothered to look, but it was certainly for an age that I lay there awake, my guilty conscience troubling me all the time, as it often does.

When the alarm went off, I was still awake, but it took, as usual, an age for me to rise to my feet. Feeling totally dreadful, I didn’t bother with the bathroom but dressed and went into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication.

That failed to liven me up so I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And to my dismay, I found that I’d been nowhere at all. Still, if you’re only asleep for an hour or two, that’s not much time to go very far, is it?

Instead, I sorted out a few other things that kept me busy until the nurse arrived.

He was not very helpful about anything much, telling me how difficult one of these fibroscopy examinations will be, something that I really didn’t want to hear. He didn’t seem to be all that interested in discussing my lack of sleep either.

After he left, I came back in here, wrote a note to my tutor to say that I was too ill to attend class today, climbed into bed (fully-clothed) and went straight off to sleep.

When I awoke, it was 12:26 – I’d been asleep for just about four hours. I was determined to rejoin my Welsh class for what little time was left, so at 12:46 I was there, ready to participate for the last forty-five minutes. How the lesson went, I really don’t know because I was totally out of it during that time.

After the lesson, I changed my mind about the shower. Before I went back to bed, I’d decided not to have my weekly shower today because I was feeling so ill, but by now I was feeling a little better and was a little more steady on my feet, so I went to set out the bathroom and sort out some clean clothes.

Back in here, you won’t believe it but I fell asleep again, the first of probably a dozen crashes out that I would have during the afternoon.

My cleaner awoke me and shooed me under the shower, and although I felt a little better, it wasn’t all that much better. Back in the kitchen, we sorted out the medication and worked out what we needed for the next month. Then she went off down the hill to the chemists for some supplies.

Back in here, I made a … "very slow" – ed … start to the next radio programme until she came back, and then we put everything away where it should go in the medicine drawer. I’m trying my best to keep that tidy and organised – a difficult feat where I’m involved.

After she left, I made breakfast at long last – no coffee, though – and then sat down to eat it. And was it three or four times that I fell asleep whilst doing so? I really can’t remember.

Back in here, I carried on with the next radio programme, fighting off, unsuccessfully more often than not, a wave of fatigue. At one point, I was out for forty-five minutes or so and that was embarrassing.

So now, even though it’s still light outside, I’m off to bed, hoping to feel much better tomorrow. I can’t keep on going like this.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the chemists … "well, one of us has" – ed … a middle-aged lady came into the chemist’s shop and asked "do you sell giant-sized condoms?"
"Yes, we do" said the chemist. "They are over there on that shelf down near the bottom."
Fifteen minutes later, the woman was still standing beside the shelf so the chemist asked her "did you manage to find them?"
"Ohh yes" said the woman. "They are right here."
"So, is there a problem?"
"Ohh no. I’m just waiting to see who buys them."

Monday 20th April 2026 – WHAT A TERRIBLE …

… day this has been. Almost everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong, and there seems to be no let-up in the immediate future either.

Things started to go wrong last night when, for some reason which I know not what, it was gone 22:00 when I’d finished everything that needed finishing, and I doubt if I was actually in bed by 22:30. Not that I cared, though – I was just glad to be in it at any time.

One good thing to have happened was that I only awoke once, and for the usual reason. But I noticed that the day was dawning so I checked the time – 06:22, just seven minutes before the alarm was due to go off – so I simply climbed back into bed and waited.

Nevertheless, it still took quite a while for me to rise to my feet, and by the time I’d had a good wash and a shave, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon, I was late going into the kitchen for my medication.

No hot drink for me today, though. It’s Dialysis Day so I made do with a small mouthful of cold orange juice. I’ll beat this thing yet.

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

We’d started a group with some of the former members of Genesis. This later evolved into a kind of “Son of Genesis”, with several of the younger players taking over. There was something in there about wearing silicon wristguards and having to change them with each other at the end of each performance. There was some issue about someone who didn’t wear his and it led to some kind of dispute within the group.

As for a group consisting of former Genesis members, there’s a story behind this too, but it’s another one that the World is not yet ready to hear.

As for the “Son of Genesis”, after Micky Jones of Man died, his son George and Martin Ace’s son Joshua Ace started a group called Son of Man (actually, George sent me a recording of one of their concerts, the very last live appearance of guitarist Deke Leonard, to broadcast on the radio at the appropriate moment).

Where the silicon wristguards fit in, I have no idea.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual, in her usual cheerful mode, especially as she is off on her week’s rest this evening. She sorted out my legs and feet and then hopped off outside into the sun.

When she left, I was just about to start my breakfast when my faithful cleaner arrived to help me pack my bag for my appointment this morning.

After she had followed Isabelle the Nurse out of the door, I started again to make breakfast. When my porridge and coffee were cooked, I sat down to begin but I’d scarcely taken a spoonful of porridge or a mouthful of coffee when the taxi arrived.

The rendezvous was at 10:45 so I was expecting the car at about 10:00, so what the *!@@ was it doing here at 09:10?

It turned out that there was someone else to pick up, but his appointment was for 10:15 so in fact the car should have been here at about 09:30 and given me a chance to eat something.

We arrived at the hospital at 10:10, and luckily I was seen quite quickly for my thoracic scan. We were told that it would take fifteen minutes, so the taxi didn’t turn up for me until 11:00.

It dropped me off at dialysis at 11:10 for my treatment at 14:00, so I was left sitting around like Piffy on a Rock for all that time. One of the nurses came to sort out my anaesthetic, and, sweet thing, she brought me a cup of coffee.

When I was weighed, they found that there was only 200 grammes to extract, but I persuaded the nurse to wind it up to 500 grammes. And then there were all kinds of problems with the machine, all kinds of problems with one of the auxillary machines, and then all kinds of problems with the disconnection.

In between, Emilie the Cute Consultant came along, bearing even more bad news.

The examination has revealed that I have a severe infection, so severe that antibiotics are powerless, and that I probably picked it up at chemotherapy. The lung specialist wants to see me on Friday, when he wants to stick a camera down my throat.

How he’s going to do that, I don’t know. Emilie the Cute Consultant said that she’ll prescribe a relaxant. I told her to prescribe half a dozen, and a length of lead piping while she was at it. I’m beginning to wish that I’d said nothing about it now.

The taxi was waiting for me so at least I didn’t have to wait, but on weighing myself on leaving, I found that I’m exactly halfway between my ideal weight and my “sporty” weight when I was running and playing sport.

My cleaner was waiting for me when I arrived, and she helped me into the apartment. And after she left, I finally managed to eat my breakfast – at 19:30.

Now, I’m off to bed and hoping for a good sleep for my Welsh lesson tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the scanner … "well, one of us has" – ed … the nurse there told me that they’d had a great deal of difficulty with the patient before me, who couldn’t stop hiccupping.
"she apologised profusely", so she told me "but I told her that she needs to stop so that we can take the scan."
"What happened then?" I asked.
"She said she couldn’t and didn’t know why? She asked me if I had an idea."
"So what did you say?"
"I told her that she was probably pregnant."
"And was she?"
"Not at all. But it didn’t ‘arf stop her hiccups!"

Sunday 19th April 2026 – WHAT A NICE …

… way to start the day. When I opened the shutters in here and sat down at my desk to start work, it was already … errr … 12:20. Who could ask for a Sunday morning any better than that? As was said once a long time ago in a “Gunsmoke” episode, "Sunday is the one day of the week a man can get up at noon and sit around with his boots off without anybody hollering at him about it."

Mind you, for reasons that I still don’t understand, Saturday was a rather late night and I didn’t finish everything and slide under the bedclothes until 22:30. The football can’t have taken all that long, surely?

But Sunday is a lie-in so I was planning to sleep until Isabelle the Nurse came to sort out my legs at about 08:30 as usual.

At least, that was the plan, and, as we all know, "The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men gang aft agley an’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain for promis’d joy." At some point during the night, I awoke for what seemed to be the usual reason and went off to stroll the parapet. I’ve no idea what time it was, and neither did I care.

Back in bed, I went to sleep again fairly quickly and although I awoke at some point when it was light outside, I shoved my head back down under the quilt and went back to bed.

Isabelle the Nurse awoke me, ringing the doorbell to announce her presence. She sorted out my legs and feet, chatting away about the brocante in the town while I was cowering under the quilt. After she left, I went back to sleep almost straight away.

When I checked the time, sitting on the edge of the bed ready to stand up, it was 10:33, so all in all, it was a very good sleep and a very relaxing morning.

In the kitchen, I just had some of my medication and then made breakfast – porridge, coffee and two of my home-made croissants – and the croissants were, as usual, delicious after ninety seconds at 180°C in the microwave.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

We’re discussing agriculture today, and he tells us that "Mr. Bruce observed … traces of cultivation on the waste lands in Northumberland, and he is probably right in attributing them to the Romans. ‘A little to the south of Borcovicus,’ he says, ‘and stretching westward, the ground has been thrown up in long terraced lines, a mode of cultivation much practised in Italy and the East. Similar terraces, more feebly developed, appear at Bradley. I have seen them very distinctly marked on the banks of the Rede-water, at old Carlisle, and in other places."

These terraces are called “lynchets” and date all the way from the Iron Age and maybe before, to the early medieval period

By now, it was 12:15 after my lazy start to the day, so I headed back in here and switched on the computer after first, of course, opening the shutters.

The first thing that I did was to transcribe the dictaphone notes to find out where I’d been during the night.

I’d come across a brochure about coach tours so I was looking through it. There were lots of coach tours going all around the UK, but it was a shame that every one just picked up in London rather than anywhere else. There were adverts in there for British Rail which said “we aren’t only this and we aren’t only this and we aren’t only this” and someone suggested that they aren’t only anything, in fact. There was someone who had to return to the USA and someone was giving her some kind of instructions about where to go to catch the bus to take her back to her home town. There was a guy there with an elderly woman who was probably his mother, and they were in the queue for having a burger so he asked his mother if she wanted rye. The mother didn’t understand at all what he was walking about and tried to have him explain, but he wasn’t being very patient with her. Then it was my turn to order so I asked for a veggie burger. They asked me what else I wanted on it but the dream faded out there.

As if I’m ever likely to go on a coach trip anywhere as a passenger – except those few times to football matches. Mind you, I did go on a few with Nerina in the past.

The rye bread relates to some bread that Jackie left with me when she left. It’s been ages since I’ve had some good German bread, so I really enjoyed it, thanks, and I’ve been thinking of ordering some more at some point.

One thing though, and that is that I have no idea why British Rail would be allowed to advertise in a coach company’s brochure.

There was also something about being in Virlet. I was down there and I was looking at the barn. There were all kinds of things growing out of the slates on the barn but right at the peak of the roof where the wind turbine is, there was a tree growing out of it so I tried to find a ladder. I eventually found a ladder and I was trying to stand it up but it fell over. I picked it up but it was the wrong way round, upside-down. I needed to clean some electrical contacts so I was looking for something to clean the contacts but I couldn’t find anything. There was probably something in the barn, but I wanted to put this ladder up so that I could climb up onto the roof and pull this tree out. However, I was in my work clothes, so I was really tidy, with tidy shoes, and I was afraid of dirtying them, but I couldn’t think of how I could change into anything or whether I had anything with me.

It’s not like me to bother about making good clothes dirty – I’ve ruined enough of those in the past. And I never really was much good at manoeuvring ladders around, particularly the old, heavy wooden ones. But anyway, there won’t be plants growing in between the slates on the roof because there aren’t any. It’s a sheet roof pressed to resemble slates.

After that, we had a footfest. Firstly, we had the highlights of the rest of the matches in the JD Cymru League. There was nothing of any excitement there today, except a few heart-stopping moments as a couple of clubs tried the “let’s play it out from the back, guys” routine, but unfortunately, it came to nothing as the teams recovered and cleared their lines.

Secondly, we had Greenock Morton at home to Queens Park. And what a match that was. Morton could have had a dozen goals before half-time and another dozen in the second half, but a well-known phrase involving the hindquarters of a ruminant animal and a stringed musical instrument comes to mind. They were so dominant, especially after a Queens Park player had been sent off, that I was expecting an extremely tragic ending for Morton in the last couple of minutes, but both teams left the field with a 0-0 draw, accompanied by the boos and jeers of both sets of supporters.

Finally, we had Stranraer at home to their bogey team, Forfar Athletic, and as you might expect, the Loons went back to Angus with the three points and a 0-1 victory.

After all of that, I vegetated for a while and then did some more of the long project that I mentioned several weeks ago. And now, it’s slowly beginning to take shape, but there’s a long way to go.

There was a pause as well during the afternoon when I went to make a loaf of bread. That’s now cooked and cooling down in the kitchen, and I’m going to be off to bed in a minute or two, without any tea again.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about lying in bed … "well, one of us has" – ed … Nerina and I went camping once, and I awoke in the middle of the night. The view was so magnificent that I awoke and pointed upwards.
"Look at all of that!" I exclaimed. "I don’t think that I’ve ever seen so many stars before in my life! And there’s a shooting star over there if you look that way!"
"Do you know what that means?" she asked.
"Not at all" I replied.
"It means that some swine has stolen our tent, you berk!"

Saturday 18th April 2026 – I HAVE HAD …

… a somewhat better day today. Mind you, that’s not at all difficult because yesterday was pretty awful.

But never mind. After writing my notes and doing everything that I have to do, it was about 21:00 when I finally made it into bed. As usual these days, it took a while to go off to sleep, but once I fell asleep, I remember nothing at all for quite a while.

At some point, and I’ve no idea when, I had to leave the bed, but I was soon back into bed and soon asleep again. At a later moment, I had to go down the corridor again, but I’d only been back in bed fifteen minutes or so afterwards when the alarm went off.

Despite the fact that I’d not long ago been up and about, it was another one of the usual struggles to leave the bed, and I eventually managed to stagger into the bathroom.

Afterwards, I headed into the kitchen for my medication and hot drink and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone.

Nerina and I had gone on a coach tour and we’d been put into a hotel room like everyone else, and we went to sleep. When I awoke this morning, I noticed that there was a mouse, a crab and two really strange creatures. One was blue and the other was olive green. There was also a huge spider. I managed to deal with the crab straight away and threw it out of the room. The next one was something with a hard shell, so I hit it with a fluorescent lamp tube that was lying around and it shattered the shell, so I threw it out of the bedroom window. The spider – I managed to chase it out of the room and it ran off down the corridor. The mouse was not a mouse – it was the thing that I’d hit with a fluorescent lamp tube. It resembled a mouse of a kind. The two others – they were really gruesome things. The green thing was like a starshell, like a star or something with its tentacles. I managed to catch that at the right time and with the door open, I could flick it outside. But this blue thing was really rapid. Every time I tried to catch it, it ran off down another end of the room. Eventually, Nerina came out of bed and joined in the hunt. We managed to corner it but it still slipped out. In the end, I had the bedroom door open wide and we manoeuvred it over to that side of the room so that when we came close to it, it ran outside the door and off down the corridor so we closed the bedroom door.

These are obviously my brother’s monsters from last night’s notes, following Nerina and me about. But what a hotel in which to stay when it’s infested with things like those. I wonder if any other room had such a collection.

However, reflecting on yesterday, if anyone had asked me even five years ago to go a day without coffee, I would have said that it’s impossible. I used to drink coffee by the bucketful. But ohhh! How times have changed! Needs must when the devil drives and all of that.

This was a dream where I was in Edinburgh, and I was asleep in my car. When I awoke next morning, there had been a couple of stickers stuck on it. I wasn’t sure what they were about, so I didn’t read them at first. Eventually, I managed to tear one off because these stickers were on the inside. It said something about bad parking and how my vehicle would be taken away if it weren’t removed. I then had a look at the other stickers. These were car park receipts with £0:00 in them so I don’t know what this was all about. Anyway, I was trying to make up my mind which car I was in because I couldn’t remember and it wasn’t until the day began to dawn that I realised that I was in a gold-coloured MkIII Cortina saloon and I have no idea what I was doing in there because a gold MkIII saloon is one that I have never owned.

Sleeping in my car is nothing new for me and even Nerina has shared a car with me on occasion. There’s a story about Nerina and me sleeping in the car in Cherbourg, but the World isn’t ready to hear it.

Surprisingly, MkIII Cortinas of all shades and colours have passed through my hands at one time or another, either as taxis or to be broken for spares, except a gold one. Even now, I still have a dark brown one and a bronze one, and I shan’t be letting them go at any price. They are both 2000E models so they are worth a fortune. The bronze one, one of the very few surviving 2000E estates, will fetch a mint of money.

I was planning on moving down to London, and I’d noticed this huge estate on the north-east side which was terrace after terrace after terrace of modern houses so I went along to enquire about one of them. It turned out that many of them were social housing, reserved for undergraduates or pensioners, but there was one part of it where single people could either buy or rent one of these places, so I told him that I may be interested in one of those. We went through all of the procedures and everything, and I ended up signing for one of them. Once the contracts were exchanged, they gave me the address of the property, which was in Onllwyn, which is in North Wales, so I went there to see what it was that I’d bought. It was a small cottage with a very large garden. I thought “never mind. I can do quite a lot with this”.

Leaving aside the fact that Onllwyn is actually in South Wales, in between Neath and the Brecon Beacons, I would love a small cottage with a big vegetable garden, but I need to be fit and healthy to cope with it. The housing estate seems to remind me of the flats in Bartle Road in London near Ladbroke Grove underground station, built on the site of Rillington Place where Christie, the mass murderer, lived.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual and was pleased to see me looking better, just as I was pleased to be feeling better. She sorted me out and then wandered off on her rounds. I made breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

And here we go again. We’re revisiting Roman Roads, passing by briefly on our way to agriculture, and out author tells us "Antiquaries seem often to have been misled by their dissimilitude to the great Roman military roads, to imagine many of these to have been British. It is not very probable that the older inhabitants of the island, such as Caesar found them, divided into separate and hostile tribes, which seem often to have changed their boundaries, as they were pressed forwards by other colonies, should have been great road-makers."

How did he think that the “other colonies” managed to press forwards? And how did he think that products only found in certain places, like the blue stones of Preseli, travelled from one part of the country to the other, such as Stonehenge? It has been recognised for a great many years that there is a whole network of prehistoric trackways across Britain dating back to Neolithic days and even before.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, interrupted by a couple of bouts of falling asleep unfortunately, but then I set about editing one of the radio programmes whose notes I dictated a couple of weeks ago. That programme is now actually complete and ready to be broadcast, although editing out thirty-eight seconds of speech was quite a challenge.

After a disgusting drinks break, I was debating whether or not to start editing the next one in the queue, but my mind was made up for me when Rosemary rang for a chat. I don’t know for how long we were chatting, but it took me right up to the start of the football.

It was the last match of the season for the league, and what a dramatic day it was. Two matches were of major interest, Y Bala v Llansawel and Y Fflint v Cardiff Metropolitan.

The situation was simple – Y Fflint had to equal or better Y Bala’s result, and Llansawel had to beat Y Bala and hope that Llanelli would beat Hwlfordd so that Llansawel would qualify for the European playoffs.

We were watching the Y Fflint v Cardiff Metropolitan game, which I thought was the wrong one, and although it was rather “agricultural”, it had plenty of action. And as goal after goal was scored in both the matches, the pendulum swung from one way to the other – Y Fflint stay up and Y Bala go down, and then a couple of minutes later, Y Bala stay up and Y Fflint go down.

Our game finished in a 2-2 draw, but Y Bala were undone late in the game to go down 2-1 after leading 1-0 at one point, so Y Bala are relegated to the Cymru North next season. Llansawel, even though they won, were forestalled by Hwlffordd hitting Llanelli for six with no reply.

Y Fflint threw everything that they had at the Met and did everything they could to keep the Met out. They finished the game with only nine players, two having been sent off for “denying a goalscoring opportunity”. However, I thought that the first one was rather harsh as there were two other defenders rushing back to cover.

Other good news on the football front is that the five clubs whose Tier One licence application was refused – Colwyn Bay, Y Bala, Trefynnon, Caerau Trelai and Caerfyrddin – have all been successful on appeal. For the latter two, they’ll have to wait another season because they both missed the promotion bus this time around.

So right now, I’m going to bed, early as it may be, and hoping for a nice lie-in tomorrow. Isabelle the Nurse can treat my legs while I’m still in bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my old vehicles … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone once said that the group “Queen” had written a song about me.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, who else would a Cortina landslide in ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ refer to?"

Friday 17th August 2026 – AFTER THE CATASTROPHE …

… that was last night, I decided to try a different approach to life. “Smile,” they said. “Things could be worse!”. And so I smiled this morning, and sure enough, things were worse.

Last night, after tea, I’d gone straight to bed, leaving undone those things that ought to have been done, thinking that I could deal with them in the morning. I went to sleep quite quickly for a change just recently, and there I lay until some time quite early the following morning when I had to leave the bed to go to stroll the parapet.

Back in bed, I went straight to sleep again until I needed to raise myself from the Dead once more, and for the same reason. And while I was summoning up the energy to do so, the alarm went off and that was that.

It was a very sloooooooooow start to the day and I was late going into the kitchen for the medication so instead of the hot drink, I had just another small mouthful of orange juice to wash it all down.

Back in here, I began to write the notes for yesterday but I kept on falling asleep. I could tell that because what was appearing on the screen was nothing like what I had written. While I was discussing this with myself, Isabelle the Nurse appeared.

She was quite concerned about me today and told me on leaving to take it easy and to have a rest. I didn’t need a second opinion – after she left, I came back in here and went to bed, fully-clothed.

For once, I can’t even remember falling asleep, but I must have done because I didn’t wake up until 12:28. So after the marathon session last night, you can add another four hours or so onto that.

Once I was up and about, the first thing that I did was to finish the notes for yesterday that I had begun, and they are all online now.

Next stop was the dictaphone to find out what had been going on during the night.

I was with a young guy with whom I used to work many years ago. He’d succeeded in most of his exams but the final exam, in order to secure promotion, was turning out to be rather too complicated for him. The boy who did manage to pass was in the rear by nature, and you could see how careful he was when he was putting a spanner into the river … fell asleep here …

This is another one of these dreams of which I remember absolutely nothing at all. But it’s a shame that I went back into a deep sleep in the middle of it because it was beginning to sound interesting.

I was driving down a road to Aberystwyth last night. It was a French road too, with all the kinds of road markings, but I was driving on the left. Then I had a feeling that I was going the wrong way so I had to perform a U-turn, but instead of turning to the right, I turned to the left and I’m not really sure why. I thought that I was going far too far away from Avranches.

As for where this road might have been, it certainly wasn’t one that I knew, but it was definitely a French road, judging by all of the carriageway markings and road signs.

Of course, in that dream about Aberystwyth, I could have been going window-shopping. That’s all that I can do because I have no money these days.

This is another bit that I can’t remember. As for money, with being house-bound, I hardly spend anything these days so I’m not as desperate as all that.

At some point in the afternoon, my cleaner came in and did her stuff. But I was in here, struggling to keep awake, so I didn’t go in to see her today. I’m sure that she can manage on her own without me.

Once all of my dreams were out of the way, I carried on with the radio notes. And although they are all finished now, it wasn’t as straightforward as all that, because I fell asleep again more times than I care to remember while I was writing them.

But with them all out of the way, we were then treated to the unusual sight of me going for breakfast at 18:30. After all, I have to eat something at some point and it saves me cooking a meal tonight.

But eating a meal is one thing. I eschewed the usual breakfast coffee because I have enough problems during the night without adding 300ml of coffee to them.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

He’s continuing to talk about Roman villas, and today he’s discussing several that show signs of violent destruction and burning, with human remains discovered within them. He concludes that there "can hardly be a doubt of their having belonged to persons who were slain when the building was attacked", something with which future archaeologists like Mortimer Wheeler might well have agreed.

So right now, I’m going to call it a day. It’s been a wretched day and one that I would much rather forget, much worse than Saturday last week. Despite it being early, I’m going to bed in the somewhat vain hope of sleeping off whatever is the problem, ready for better days ahead.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about sleeping … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of my little brother who once went into his parents’ room at about 03:00 and awoke them, saying "I’m scared. I’ve been dreaming of monsters chasing me around my bedroom. Can I get into bed with you?"
"Not likely" said my mother. "I’m not having those monsters getting into bed with us too!"

Thursday 16th April 2026 – HOW LONG IS IT …

…. since I had a really decent sleep? Just for once, after all this time, I finally managed to have a really profound sleep and it did me the World of good.

Not that it was early, though. Making tea took much longer than I imagined, and even though I enjoyed it, I had other things to do, for which I could make better use of my time.

By the time that I’d finished writing my notes, taking the stats, backing up the computer and all of that, it was just after 22:00 when I climbed into bed. As seems to be the case these days, it took a while to go off to sleep, but once I was gone, boy, was I gone?

There was one moment when I awoke, for what seems to be the obvious reason at the moment, but I was soon back in bed and asleep almost immediately. I’ve no idea what time it was, but the electric water heater was buzzing so it was certainly after midnight when I let it all hang out.

There was another awakening later, for the same reason, and I was debating whether or not to check the time to see if it was worth getting up permanently, but I was barely back in bed, tucked up under the covers, when BILLY COTTON’S RAUCOUS RATTLE made up my mind for me.

Considering that I’d only just gone back to bed, it took an age for me to leave it again, but after I’d finally managed to sort myself out in the bathroom, including a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon, I went for my medication. In the interests of my weight, I eschewed the usual 200 ml of hot drink and just washed everything down with a small mouthful of orange juice.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night, but to my dismay, I had nothing on. It must have been a really deep sleep, I reckon. So instead, I found a few other things to do.

Isabelle the Nurse came in as usual to sort me out. She was chatting away about not very much at all, and after she left, I could make breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we’re in the countryside discussing Roman villas, and apart from a few more “Richard of Cirencester” moments, he’s managed to steer pretty well clear of controversy. But while he was being led up the garden path by the aforementioned, we were being led through the sewers of Lincoln by the archaeologist Charles Roach Smith, who had apparently crawled through them in the past and whose notes were being quoted by our author.

Back in here, I had a few more things to do and then in a mad fit of enthusiasm, which came from I know not where, I attacked the radio programme that I’d started at the end of yesterday. And now, all of the music is reformatted, remixed, re-edited, paired and segued, and I’ve even written a few notes. I can finish the rest tomorrow.

My faithful cleaner was late today so she didn’t have much time to apply my anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the taxi. It was quite early today and caught me in flagrante delicto with a frozen curry that I’d just taken out of the freezer in the bathroom. I just had to dump it on the worktop, hoping that it would melt quietly, rather than find a bowl for it.

The driver had never been here before, so she was parked across in the car park. Eventually she brought the car round to the entry and we could set off. We had another passenger to pick up at the Centre de Reeducation, but rather than a return to Avranches, from where he had come this morning, it was a return home, so we ended up driving around the obscure corners of Granville.

Nevertheless, at dialysis, I was somewhat early but I was still the last to arrive, so I was last to be connected, as usual.

And there were all kinds of problems there today. As far as I was concerned, they couldn’t make one of the auxillary machines work. Consequently, for about an hour and a half, I was surrounded by people trying to fix it, and I couldn’t do any work at all while they were there. And once again, I spilled some coffee onto the laptop. This time though, I was much quicker wiping it off.

Being the last to be connected, and with all of the other problems, I was last, as usual, to be unplugged. The taxi driver had been waiting a good fifteen minutes for me, so at least our departure was rapid enough, but I was still late home.

My cleaner helped me inside, and after she left, I made some rice and heated the curry that had been quietly melting on the worktop all afternoon, without leaking from its plastic bag, I’m pleased to say. It was delicious, as usual, and filling, so I once more eschewed my chocolate cake and home-made ice cream.

By now, though, it was late and I was totally whacked. I could hardly keep my eyes open. And so I just posted another terse note on my blog and went to bed. And that was that.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about problems with machines … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of one of the old Andy Capp stories from the 1960s.
They were trying to bring into a building an IBM mainframe computer but it wouldn’t fit through the door. They had a pile of people around it making suggestions, and trying their best to help, but to no avail.
Eventually, Andy Capp shouted across to them "why not plug it in and let it work it out for itself?"

Wednesday 15th April 2026 – THAT WAS A …

… better night than some have been just recently. In fact, I had a really good sleep once, and the waves of fatigue didn’t come until early evening. And I was ready to fight them off too, which makes a change.

Last night, being back here later than some have been just recently after my evening meal, I ended up being rather later than usual going to bed. The dictaphone notes didn’t take too long to complete, and neither did everything else afterwards either, but I really do wonder where the time goes these days because by the time that I crawled into bed, it was about 22:10.

That is, of course, earlier than my curfew time of 22:30, which is the whole point of doing what I’m doing right now, but I’d still like to be in bed earlier than that if I could.

It took much longer to go to sleep than usual, something that seems to be becoming a habit these days, but once I went to sleep, I slept right through to some ungodly time when I had to go to stroll the parapet, something else that seems to be becoming a habit these days too.

Whatever time it was at that point, I have no idea because I couldn’t be bothered to look. But it was still fairly early because the hot water heater hadn’t switched on at that point.

Back in bed, I went almost straight away back to sleep, and although I have some kind of vague memory of waking up at some point, I was flat out, dead to the World when the alarm went off at 06:29.

It took the usual extreme amount of effort to force myself to my feet and into the bathroom, and I ended up being rather late into the kitchen. But never mind. I made my hot lemon, ginger and honey drink, took my medication and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

There was some kind of new Welsh rock group created. They made an LP which contained about twenty songs. They were all played at full volume, with plenty of noise etc. It was really nice music and it was clear that they were trying to emulate Led Zeppelin and their success. Led Zeppelin even went to the lengths of creating their own record label and a fictitious group, which was them, so that they could re-record their songs, produce them and release them too so that they would be hits the second time around to bring in more money. But there was a query about the Welsh Government, whether it was financing or subsidising this group, because some accounts had been printed, and the theatres in the country were receiving some kind of really large subsidy, with one in North Wales receiving the most.

This dream seems to be about nothing that has occurred just recently, although the radio programmes might have some distant bearing on it. As for the theatres, I’ve no idea where they fit in at all. I was reading something yesterday that, in Wales, the school meals allowance payable to schools for their “free meals” programme is the highest in the United Kingdom. But apart from that, I don’t know.

We were discussing football again and Caernarfon’s unstoppable run to the top of the table, except that in their last match, they were beaten 1-0 by Cardiff Metropolitan. People were criticising the team selection and quite a few other things about it, the display, but no-one seemed to mention how well Cardiff Met played during the game.

Presumably, this relates to Caernarfon Town’s victory in the Welsh Cup Final on Sunday. But as for Cardiff Met, they are languishing safely, but still near the bottom of the Welsh Premier League. They aren’t having a very good season but occasionally, they can come up with a surprising result or two. For example, a couple of months ago, they beat perennial champions TNS in the league, and then blow me up … "down" – ed … if a few days later, they didn’t do it again, knocking TNS out of the Cup and paving the way for the Cofis to go on and win it.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual but although she was in chat mode, she didn’t really have a lot to say of any importance. But I’m not complaining because it’s nice to hear another voice in here other than my own.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, he remarks, apart from the usual quotes from “Richard of Cirencester”, that "the mortar … strikes the ordinary observer by its extreme strength and durability; he will break with much greater ease the stones with which the wall is faced than the mortar which holds them together. As we find it in Britain, the Roman mortar is generally composed of lime, pounded tiles, sand, and grave"

So Thomas Wright has had his first introduction to Roman concrete. The Romans were big users of concrete in their constructions but the art had been lost after they left. Although John Smeaton had rediscovered some of the art and had built his famous lighthouse on the Eddystone Rocks using “pebbles and powdered brick as aggregate”, according to The History of Concrete, its use was relatively unknown outside a very small circle of engineers at that time.

But as for the art being lost, we have so far in our various books that a great many arts were lost after the Romans left. So I’m still convinced that there was an element of ethnic cleansing once the Saxons arrived.

After breakfast, I came back in here and had a few more things to do. And then I attacked the radio programme that I intended to prepare.

And despite a disgusting drink break, I still managed to complete everything by about 17:00. I even managed to start the next one too, but I was dismayed to find that I hadn’t in fact found all of the music that I needed and had to start the hunt again.

By the time that I knocked off for tea, I reckoned that I’d found everything at last, and so I can make a start tomorrow before dialysis. But I bet that there’s still something that I’ve forgotten.

For tea, I had my first real protein meal for two weeks. It was vegan bangers, mash and baked beans with cheese. And it was totally delicious – so much so that I could eat it again.

At least, in principle. I had rather too much on my plate again so, just like last night, I eschewed my chocolate cake and home-made ice cream.

So with all of that out of the way, I’m going to bed, hoping for an even better night tonight than last night … "he’ll be lucky" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about concrete … "well, one of us has" – ed … two concrete slabs walk into a bar.
"We are the hardest in this town" says one of them. "No-one can even come near us."
Just then, a slab of tarmac walks into the bar, and the two concrete slabs hide under the table.
"I thought that you said that you were the hardest in town" said the bartender. "Why did you hide under the table from a piece of tarmac?"
"Oh him, yes, but he’s an absolute cyclepath."

Tuesday 14th April 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone this morning.

Mind you, that’s not a surprise, because if you don’t go to sleep, you can’t have a dream. It was a really miserable night last night, lying there with my head under the pillow trying desperately to go to sleep and not managing a single moment.

The only highlight was a trip down the corridor, which seems to be happening almost every night these days. But, at least, it’s keeping my weight down, which is good news.

What made matters worse was that it was an early night too. Even though making and eating my meal had taken some time, I still managed to have everything done and dusted and to be in bed just a little after 22:00, so I was hoping to have some sleep to match. However, it was not to be.

When the alarm went off at 06:29, I was wide-awake already. However, as you might expect, it took me a good while to summon up the courage to leave the bed. However, I found to my surprise that when I finally made it into the kitchen after my sojourn in the bathroom, it was actually quite early.

After I’d had my medication and my hot drink, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone, and that was when I found that it was blank today. So instead, I found plenty of other things to keep me busy.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual, in “full chat” mode after her week off. She told me about everything that she had done, although she hadn’t made any hot cross buns, despite me giving her the recipe just after Easter.

After she left, I could make breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

I really think that I’m going to have to stop criticising his hasty “speculations and conclusions” because it’s driving me berserk. His faith in “the works of Richard of Cirencester” has led to him planting fictitious towns and camps all over England, Wales and Scotland, and, as usual, making a mess of the ones that were known to historians in those days.

But not only that, he tells us that "If the traveller had taken the western road from Deva, at the end of the first stage, he would have reached the town of Condate, supposed to be Kinderton in Cheshire."

Deva is, of course, Chester, and Kinderton is just a stone’s throw south of Middlewich in Cheshire, where, just on the northern edge of the town a mile or so away, a Roman fort was first identified in the mid-eighteenth century and excavated about thirty or so years ago.

However, you wouldn’t be taking the western road from Deva – you’d be travelling eastwards towards Middlewich.

But while I was doing some idle research into nothing in particular, I came across THIS GUY. I know that it’s hard to stop laughing, but really we should feel sorry for people with ethnic names who have been caught out by the rapid spread of globalisation. There isn’t really anything funny about it, as we would find out if it were us.

Back in here, there were more things to do and then, regrettably, I had a little doze for a while. That’s not surprising either, after a night with no sleep.

When I awoke, it was a mad dash to sort myself out for my Welsh class as I was running late. And the lesson was not as successful as some have been just recently. I can’t think quickly enough these days so my conversation is rather stilted. Mind you, I can read and understand quite quickly, so I did well in that bit.

At the end of my lesson, I made myself ready for my weekly shower, and when my cleaner came, she shooed me underneath it. And although I was in no mood for a shower, I did feel better afterwards.

After she left, I began to look for the music for my next two radio programmes. And although I now have what I need, it all took an age to find and to reformat. I’ll start on the next radio programme tomorrow.

Actually, though, I could have been ready much earlier, but once more, I fell asleep in my chair, this time for about half an hour.

While I was having a doze in the late afternoon, I was with a girl and another couple. We ended up sitting at a table in a crowded bar somewhere, although I was set back somewhat from the edge. There ended up being a question about separating my girlfriend and me from the others and so I suggested pam lai lansio roced rhyngom ni? – “why not launch a rocket between us?” But there was then some commotion going on at the bar so I turned my attention to over there, but then I awoke with yet another coughing fit.

What a shame that I awoke, because I would have loved to know what else was likely to happen, what with me actually being with a girl just then.

But dreaming in Welsh? That’s the effect of today’s lesson, I reckon. This course must really be getting to me and there’s still two years to go at least, and more if I want to push on into higher education.

Once I’d come round into the Land of the Living, I went to make tea. A plate of pasta and vegetables, all mixed up in a vegan cheese sauce. And it was delicious. There was more on the plate than I had expected, so I decided to forego my chocolate cake and home-made ice cream.

But I’m not going to forego my bed, because now that I’ve finished my notes, I’ll tidy up, finish off and go to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about showering … "well, one of us has" – ed … when we were on THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR, one of the passengers, whenever he was on board the ship, he carried a bar of soap with him.
"Why do you do that?" I asked.
"It’s in case we have a shipwreck" he replied.
"How will the bar of soap help?"
"Well, if the ship sinks, I can get washed ashore."

Monday 13th April 2026 – THIS EVENING, I …

… have had my first cooked evening meal for almost two weeks. And about time too, because one or two things in the fridge and vegetable drawer are beginning to look rather fruity, and I see that I shall probably have a good clear-out at some point soon. I hate throwing food away, but sometimes, keeping stuff like that goes beyond a joke.

And actually, I was looking forward to a hot meal too. After my chocolate cake and home-made ice cream last night, I was definitely feeling hungry. But I resisted the temptation until after dialysis this afternoon.

Instead, I came back in here to write up my notes and do everything else that I have to do. However, I still managed to run rather late and it was 22:00 or maybe a little later that I finally crawled into bed.

Not that I slept all the way through to the alarm, though. I awoke at one point for the usual reason and had to leave the bed. Not that I’m complaining, because all of this keeps the weight down for dialysis. I’ve no idea what time it was either. I didn’t look and I didn’t care.

Once back in bed, though, I slept right the way through to the alarm, which probably did me a world of good.

When the alarm finally went off, it took the usual struggle for me to rise to my feet and wander off to the bathroom, and what with having a shave too, I was late going into the kitchen. Never mind though, my usual glass of hot lemon, ginger and honey has been replaced on Dialysis Day with just a small mouthful of water. As I said just now, keeping my weight down for dialysis is the most important thing at the moment.

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

There was something about a young male ballet dancer who had begun to dance with a troupe and there were a lot of high expectations placed upon him, but as time went by, he didn’t fulfil those expectations and drifted off into a sort of middle range of professionalism. He ended up at one point at Y Fflint, where the music hall director was in despair about his inability to try to represent the sound on a computer, but they needed to keep the sound whilst trying to … fell asleep here …

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I’m actually asleep when I’m dictating. But what happens at times like this is that I suddenly go silent and then you can hear the heavy breathing as I fall into a deeper sleep.

As for the dream itself, it means nothing to me. Y Fflint probably relates to the Welsh Cup Final on Sunday but nothing else seems to go anywhere. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I just type out whatever is on the dictaphone. If there ever is any editing, it’s just for things like grammar and so on and has nothing to do with the content. If the content is too gruesome for delicate ears, I don’t print it but put a little note in there instead.

The nurse turned up as usual, full of happiness and joy because he’s off on his week’s break this evening. We had a chat about dialysis, seeing as he was formerly a nurse in a dialysis clinic, and then he left to continue his rounds.

Once he’d gone, I could make breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Our author is off on his hasty “speculations and conclusions” again.

We’re talking about Roman roads, and today he tells us that "two imperfect itineraries, giving us the names and distances from each other of the towns and stations on the principal military roads, have been preserved; the first is contained in the great Itinerarium of the Roman Empire, which goes under the name of Antoninus and is believed to have been compiled about AD 320. The other is contained in the work of Richard of Cirencester and is supposed to have been copied by a monk of the fourteenth century from an older itinerary or map. They differ a little from each other, but our faith in Richard’s itinerary is strengthened by the circumstance that nearly all the roads he gives which are not in Antoninus have been ascertained to exist."

In fact, the work of “Richard of Cirencester” has been proved for almost 200 years to be a pure fabrication, created in about 1750 AD, based on the Antonine Itinerary and its author’s rather fertile imagination.

He continues by saying that Ermine Street "proceeded in a direct line to Durolipons, the site of which is fixed without doubt at Godmanchester", whereas all the evidence today points to it being the site of Cambridge.

Back in here, I had a radio programme to check before I sent it off. And it’s a good job that it did because it needed a little tweaking. And then I could press on with reviewing my Welsh, because the lessons start up again tomorrow.

My cleaner turned up as usual to apply my anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the taxi. but not too long, because he was early today.

We had two other people to pick up en route but even so, I arrived at dialysis early. Even luckier, I didn’t have to wait too long to be plugged in either. The fact that it’s the thirteenth and that I was put into bed thirteen has proved to be lucky for me.

And the luck continued too. My weight was down to such an extent that there was nothing to remove. Nevertheless, I persuaded the nurse to take out 500 grammes just for form’s sake.

After she left and went off to another patient, the doctor came along before she had the chance to talk to him about my weight. So he looked at the chart and simply, with no further enquiry, also increased the debit by another 500 grammes. I, of course, said nothing.

Before he left, he gave me my usual three-monthly lecture about chatting up the nurses, but what do I care? I’m far too old to change my habits now. And I don’t care if he reads this either.

During the session, I was left pretty much alone, which suits me fine. But I had a lovely chat with the nurse who came to unplug me. And when I weighed myself, I found myself to be at the lowest weight at which I’ve been for thirty years, when I used to go running around the streets of Brussels late at night.

And my luck continued. It was my favourite taxi driver who came to pick me up, and as we were on our own, we had a good chat about cats all the way home.

My cleaner was waiting for me when we arrived and she helped me back into the apartment. I was feeling a little light-headed after this dialysis session today.

Back in here, after she left, I had a baked potato with cheese and veg, followed by chocolate cake and home-made ice cream. Not too much, because I need to break myself into eating again after all of this time. I’d be really ill if I tried a binge session, rather like one of the Donner Party of emigrants who, after being stranded in a snowdrift for six months, upon rescue, ate to death, quite literally.

So right now, I’m off to bed for a good night’s sleep before my lesson tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the contents of my dreams … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of a famous exchange that took place between Doctor Finlay and his faithful servant Janet in Dr Kenlay’s Feesbook or whatever it was called back in the 1960s.
"Ohhh Doctor Finlay: It’s gruesome."
"Och aye, Janet. Look again. it’s gruesome more."

EPIC HALL

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

Category Archives: France

Monday 27th April 2026 – TODAY HAS NOT …

Sunday 26th April 2026 – I AM OBVIOUSLY …

Saturday 25th April 2026 – I AM BEGINNING …

Friday 24th April 2026 – WHAT A HORRIBLE …

Thursday 23rd April 2026 – HERE I AM …

Wednesday 22nd April 2026 – NOT YET ANOTHER …

Tuesday 21st April 2026 – WHAT ANOTHER HORRIBLE …

Monday 20th April 2026 – WHAT A TERRIBLE …

Sunday 19th April 2026 – WHAT A NICE …

Saturday 18th April 2026 – I HAVE HAD …

Friday 17th August 2026 – AFTER THE CATASTROPHE …

Thursday 16th April 2026 – HOW LONG IS IT …

Wednesday 15th April 2026 – THAT WAS A …

Tuesday 14th April 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

Monday 13th April 2026 – THIS EVENING, I …

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