Category Archives: France

Thursday 5th December 2024 – “THERE SEEMS TO BE …

… a series of scars …”

“That’s enough”, I replied. “I really don’t want to know any more”

“OK” said the doctor. “But there’s this series of scars …”

You can tell that I went for the scan on my implant this afternoon. And what is it that people don’t understand about me not wanting to know any more? It’s almost as if they go out of their way to make like difficult for me.

All in all, it was a long, tiring day today. Not helped by another late night again last night. I don’t even think that it was before midnight when I finally retired. It seemed to be long after that.

Once in bed I was asleep quite quickly and there I stayed until the alarm went off at 07:00. I was dealing with … "you mean ‘dreaming about’" – ed … the USA last night when the alarm went off, about someone who had acquired all of the land West of the Mississippi at a price that worked out at £00.005 per acre, which might sound cheap but he was obliged to undertake certain infrastructure works within the next five years. If he failed to do so the purchase would be voided. That’s as far as I went into this dream.

This is something else in ISAAC WELD’S BOOK. Land speculators, and the amount of money they make by doing it, is another one of his favourite subjects.

In the bathroom I had a good wash and scrub up but I forgot to have a shave. I shall look like The Old Man Of The Sea at this rate. Instead I went into the kitchen to make some breakfast. It’s going to be a long day.

While eating it I read some more of ISAAC WELD’S BOOK. He’s now reached the Niagara Falls – well, sort-of, because we are on the eleventh page of today’s journey and he’s still waxing lyrical about the effect that the noise and mist is having on him, and he’s not yet even seen the Falls as yet.

However, he does venture the opinion, and quite rightly so, that "the great falls of the river must originally have been situated at the spot where the waters are so abruptly contracted between the hills; and indeed it is highly probable that this was the case, for it is a fact well ascertained, that the falls have receded very considerably since they were first visited by Europeans, and that they are still receding every year"

Isabelle the Nurse turned up to deal with my legs and to fit the anaesthetic patches. To my surprise she didn’t know where the patches went and asked me. As if I know? So I hope that she fit them in the correct place.

The taxi turned up on time and, for some reason, it was the wheelchair transporter. I don’t know what I’d done to deserve that. It’s higher than the standard saloon cars so it’s easier to enter and exit.

The driver didn’t have much to say for himself and it was a quick drive down to the Dialysis Centre in comparative silence.

At the Centre we had a moment of hilarity. We have to weigh ourselves when we go in and hand the ticket from the machine to one of the nurses. When I handed mine to her she said “Look how much weight you have gained!” However, it turned out that one of the patients before me had forgotten to take his ticket and I had picked it up.

The nurses weren’t impressed with the positioning of the patches. However I suppose that it’s difficult when you don’t know. One pin went in quite easily and painlessly while the other one was much more of a painful struggle, although it actually worked today, the first time since I don’t know when.

The doctor came to see me, but he soon beat a hasty retreat when I tackled him about this scan that I had the other day. He really has no interest in his job, which is a shame.

For once, the machine behaved itself this morning and I wasn’t interrupted at all – not even for a coffee. I seemed to have missed the morning hand-out. Instead I revised my Welsh, listened to music and carried on reading Richard Hakluyt’s PRINCIPALL NAVIGATIONS.

Apart from the usual sycophancy towards his patron, the Earl of Nottingham with loads of lines such as "here by the way mo?t humbly crauing pardon, and alwayes ?ubmitting my poore opinion to your Lord?hips mo?t deep and percing in?ight, ", pages and pages of it, he has a delightful turn of phrase, such as " our Engli?h nation, at the fir?t ?etting foorth for their Northea?terne di?couery, were either altogether de?titute of ?uch cleare lights and inducements, or if they had any mnkling at all, it was as mi?ly as they found the Northren ?eas,"

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I adore Hakluyt’s cynicism.

They eventually unplugged me and threw me out into a waiting taxi that took me across the road to the hospital. There I was unceremoniously pushed into a hospital wheelchair and pushed around the hospital until my driver found out where to take me.

There was quite a wait until they could see me, and then we had all of this performance with the doctor and the scanner. The doctor was not at all impressed that they’d sent me straight here from being dialysed.

Eventually they could let me go and I was then pushed by my taxi driver down to the waiting car and driven home.

My faithful cleaner was waiting for me and she watched as a very weary me hauled myself up the stairs into the apartment where at last I could sit down comfortably.

Having bashed out some dough for the next loaf, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone. We were all in a hospital. There were people who came from many different countries in Europe. It seemed that the treatment wasn’t the same. Someone was astonished that the knock-out drops that they administered to people to make them pass out for operations etc were given to the people when they were awake. I said “there’s no point giving them to someone who’s asleep. If he’s asleep, he wouldn’t need them”. Someone else talked about things that took place in other parts of Europe with regard to the administering of anaesthetics. When I came to be discharged they handed me a huge pile of information, including some stuff on a tape. I asked what the tape was for. They said that it was because I’m someone who isn’t courageous enough to confront the issues of the illness that they are having to give me the information like this, first of all to make sure that I hear it and secondly so that I can pass it to anyone else who is going to make any kind of medical intervention on my behalf. Once again; other people in this ward were quite surprised that it was necessary to give me this kind of information. Why shouldn’t it be available to the general public?

My thinking about anaesthetics might sound logical, but I wouldn’t want anyone to test the theory on me. As for me not having the courage to know about what’s going on, you can make of that what you will.

Later on I was playing with Quicksilver last night. There was just me and Dean Freiberg … "David Freiberg" – ed …. The two of us were keeping the group alive. We went to the airport to see off Jefferson Airplane on some kind of tour circuit. They blockaded our car so we couldn’t leave. This went on for a while until in the end I said to Freiberg “would you like to go to play with Jefferson Airplane?”. After much prevarication he admitted that he did so I told him to go over to their car and join in, and I’ll sort something out. I went back home, worked on one or two songs and collected a few ideas together. They I was out one day and someone pointed out Don Airey to me, a British musician and his drummer. I went up to say “hello” and to ask them what they were doing in the States. They replied that they had come over to join a group but it had all fallen through. So seeing as we now had a keyboard player and bassist, I said “I have some ideas if you want to join in”. We ended up going to a motorway service café, one that I knew really well where the girl on the till was quite jovial and joking. She was reading a newspaper but when she saw the three of us walk in she immediately put her newspaper on the floor. I walked over and asked “what’s in the news today?” to which she laughed. She recognised Don Airey and said “oh he was in earlier. He broke a cup of coffee and offered to pay for the cup”. Someone said something like “well, he’s British, isn’t he? Not American. He would offer to pay for it”.

Actually David Freiberg did leave Quicksilver and later, play with Jefferson Airplane and Jefferson Starship. But what Don Airey, organist of Deep Purple, is doing in all of this, I really don’t know.

Tea wasn’t up to much tonight. I tried a plate of baked vegetables and butternut squash in the air fryer but it didn’t really work out, so we’ll dismiss this one as a failure. But at least the oven was nice and hot for the bread and made a lovely loaf. And my ginger cake was lovely too

So right now, I’m exhausted and I’m off to bed. It’s been a tough day today and I can’t wait to take to my lovely bed.

Anyway, Isaac Weld was on a boat with a Japanese tourist and their American guide, the boat drifting helplessly and out of control towards the Niagara Falls.
Suddenly, a genie appears. "I can only give you three wishes" he said. "That’s one each"
"I love my country!" shouted the American. "Give me a heavenly choir to sing ‘The Stars and Stripes’ before we go over"
"I love my country’s food" said the Japanese. "Give me a banquet of raw sushi, raw sea slug, sea urchin and pickled omelette"
"Do me a favour" said Isaac Weld to the genie. "For God’s sake kill me off before those other two wishes are granted"

Wednesday 4th December 2024 – I HAD ANOTHER …

… chat with Rosemary this evening. Just a short one this time – only one hour and forty-eight minutes. We are definitely losing our touch these days.

But as a result, I am running horribly late tonight and I’m glad that it’s the Dialysis Centre tomorrow morning – for the simple fact that I can have a good sleep there if I’m tired.

It was also late when I went to bed last night, but there again that’s only to be expected these days. It wasn’t all that late when I finished everything, but I hung around for a while afterwards doing not very much at all.

When I was in bed it didn’t take long for me to go to sleep and once more, there I stayed until the alarm went off at 07:00. Mind you, I was awake a few minutes beforehand but not even if TOTGA, Zero or Castor (whatever happened to them?) were beckoning from the doorway would I be enticed from the warmth and comfort of my own wonderful bed

It was, as usual, a struggle to rise up when it was time to do so but I managed to beat the second alarm by a short head and once the bedroom stopped spinning round I could make my way into the bathroom.

After having had a good wash I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I dreamed that I’d taken some sandwiches to bed with me. I’d been missing a meal here and there and my body was going totally out of synch. One night I was going to bed at about 23:00 and realised that I’d had no food so I made myself some sandwiches but I fell asleep. When I awoke I had an insatiable thirst so I began to look around for the sandwiches (…fell asleep here …) so when I awoke I was looking around for these sandwiches under the bed. Of course I realised then that I was actually in a dream and there were no sandwiches at all

Now that’s a novelty, isn’t it? Dreaming about food and especially bringing it to bed with me. But could you imagine leaving the sandwiches under the bed? It’s a good job that I fell asleep mid-search. But the sandwiches wouldn’t help me with my insatiable thirst.

Isabelle the Nurse was in a chatty mood this morning and had a lot to say for herself. We talked about economics and other exciting subjects this morning and I seem to be putting the World to rights with a lot of people these days.

After she left I made breakfast and carried on with ISAAC WELD’S BOOK.

Today he’s arrived at Kingston and has been escorted across the lake to the town of Niagara in a fleet of canoes with several traders. He’s still obsessed with the idea of Canada as the best country in the Empire and with the preoccupation of Americans with money, but he tells us that "the town of Niagara hitherto has been and is still the capital of the province of Upper Canada ; orders, however, had been issued, before our arrival there, for the removal of the seat of government from thence to Toronto which was deemed a more eligible spot for the meeting of the legislative bodies, as being farther removed from the frontiers of the United States. This projected change is by no means relished by the people at large, as Niagara is a much more convenient place of resort to most of them than Toronto; and as the governor who proposed the measure has been removed, it is imagined that it will not be put in execution."

Well, the less said about that prophecy of his, the better.

He did much better with something else that he mentioned in his book. "It is to be lamented that the Indian names, so grand and sonorous, should ever have been changed for others. Newark, Kingston, York, are poor substitutes for the original names of these respective places, Niagara, Cadaragui, Toronto." although he had to wait two hundred years for the beginning of the restoration of First-Nation place-names.

And while I’m in complete agreement with the process of the restoration of the first-Nation names, it is nevertheless confusing when I’m trying to follow the trail of the European explorers of the Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries, where the names that they gave in their memoirs to places that they visited have now been erased from the map

Today, I’ve been carrying on my hunt for music. I didn’t realise yesterday how much I didn’t have and seem to have fallen way short in my estimate. So much of the day has been spent tracking it down and then trying to identify it, because as I mentioned yesterday, the program that I use is mixing up the names of the tracks

My cleaner came in this afternoon to do her stuff and she changed all the bedding. That’s good because with having had a shower, there’s now a nice, clean me to go into a nice, clean bed.

The shower was wonderful and now it’s less that six months to go until I’ll be able to install a shower in the bathroom downstairs. Time is going quicker than I would have thought. But when I do have the shower installed, I’ll be having one every day – at least, at the beginning.

There will be a much-improved kitchen too if only I can arrange to have the kitchen units removed from the van and put in the apartment. I hope that the oven in there still works.

There was the usual interruption for the hot chocolate, and then another one with Rosemary, who rang just as I was preparing to stop work.

As a result, I has about an hour late going for tea tonight. It was, as usual, a leftover curry with rice, veg and naan bread. Spoiling myself yet again.

And the ginger cake was excellent. It tasted just as it should, and could even have been somewhat spicier

So now, much later than I intended, I’m off to bed. It’s the dialysis tomorrow morning and the X-ray in the afternoon. I wonder what they are going to find. There’s definitely something that’s not correct.

But while we’re on the subject of things being spoilt … "well, one of us is" – ed … the Headmaster of a local Primary School rang up Little Johnny’s mother and said "your son is spoilt"
"No he isn’t" said Little Johnny’s mother
"Yes he is" retorted the Headmaster
"No he isn’t" insisted Little Johnny’s mother
"Well, you come here" said the Headmaster "and see what the groundsman’s industrial lawnmower has done to him."

Tuesday 3rd December 2024 – IT’S ALL STARTING …

… off again around here.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that medical appointments seem to come in batches . They are like London buses – you don’t see one for ages and then half a dozen all turn up at the same time.

And so this morning I had a ‘phone call from the Dialysis Centre. “Could you come in during the morning on Thursday because we’ve arranged for that scan on your implant to take place during the afternoon at 15:00?”

So at 10:00 in the forenoon I have been summoned to answer to the above, not at a Court of Law, but at the Dialysis Centre. And they will arrange the taxi at the appropriate time.

Shortly afterwards, Paris finally called me back in answer to all of the messages that I had left them. I told them about this appointment there with the neurologist on 23rd January so if they wanted to perform this blasted biopsy, could they do it round about then?

“That was why we are ringing” said the voice. “If you can tell us the contact details of your Dialysis Centre, we’ll get them to do the dialysis on the Wednesday and have the taxi bring you here straight away, giving you two days before you go back home again”.

It’s taken them long enough to come round to it, but now that they have their fingers on the pulse again, things might begin to happen.

One thing that won’t be happening is me going to bed at a respectable time. It was another late night last night.

This time though, I was asleep quite quickly, and there I stayed until the alarm sounded at 07:00, without moving a muscle or batting an eyelid at all.

It was a struggle to haul myself out of the bed but I beat all of the alarms at the correct places and had a good wash and scrub up.

Back in here I listened to the dictaphone to find out where I had been during the night. I was running a small solar energy business as I did before. I was in Canada. I’d registered my business in Canada and done a little work there. I’d managed to rent someone’s front garden where I’d put a portacabin and a few other bits and pieces on there and that I used as a Head Office. When I crossed over the border between Canada and the USA I noticed that there was now a Customs office. It was inviting traders to register there. I was thinking that with the difference in tax between the USA and Canada it may well be of interest to me if I’m bringing stuff across the border. If I do that, the tax that I pay that is more will be refunded to me. If I buy stuff in Canada and take it over into the USA to sell, then I’d receive a deduction on the difference between the Canada and the USA tax. We went round there but it was closed so I thought that I’d go there again. On our way back we went past where my property was and I noticed that the house was for sale. I said to my niece to let me know when it’s sold because I couldn’t see me being allowed to stay there on the front lawn by a new owner. We stopped to have a look. The owner was outside. He buttonholed us so we went in and had a chat. No-one said anything about the property being for sale. Then it was time to leave. We had to leave downstairs through the basement so it was a case of locking all the upstairs. That gave us an opportunity to look into the rooms and we saw that work was still going on. It didn’t look as if they were ready to leave any time. The boy of the house ran back upstairs after we’d all gone down even though we’d closed all the lights and locked the doors. His father was rather short with him. The wife carried on talking to us as we walked through the house and basement and saw all of the lovely work that they were doing, turning what had been the living room into an office and the conversation carried on

As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, back in 2012 and 2013 I was actively exploring the possibility of setting up a business in Canada and had even taken steps to initiate something. But like everything else, I was overwhelmed when my ill-health began.

There was also the famous Motel venture, when I had my eye on THAT PLOT OF LAND THAT WAS LEFT OVER when they finished the Trans-Labrador Highway over the Mealy Mountains in 2010, and there was also the other little plot of land left over when they built the Trans-Canada Highway and for which I actually made an offer, before being well and truly wiped out by Irving’s Petrol Stations who paid ten times what the land was worth.

Isabelle the nurse was late today. And not just late but very late. 08:50 when she finally appeared. "Sorry but I had a lot of blood tests to do this morning" she said.

No surprise there of course. People are withholding their prescriptions when her colleague is on duty because he doesn’t have “the touch” like she does.

On the subject of holidays I told her not to bother to come on New Year’s Day because I’m having a lie-in. Nevertheless she insisted on coming, but she’ll come on the midday round. The question is “will I actually be up by midday?”.

After she left I made breakfast and began the second part of ISAAC WELD’S BOOK

We aren’t many pages into it before we read something that underlines just what I was discussing the other day about the morals of the Europeans who went to North America. He tells us that the First-Nation people whom he met at Lévis opposite Québec were "{qualid and filthy in the extreme, and going about the ?treets every day in large partics, begging, pre?ented a mo?t melancholy picture of human nature; and indeed, if a traveller never ?aw any of the North American Indians, but the mo?t decent of tno?e who are in the habit of frequenting the large towns of Lower Canada, he would not be Jed to entertain an opinion greatly in their favour. The farther you a?cend up the country, and con?equently the nearer you ?ee the Indians to what they were in their original ?tate, before their manners were corrupted by intercour?e with the whites, the more do you find in their character and conduct de?erving of admiration."

If that’s not a damning indictment of the behaviour of the European settlers in Canada I don’t know what it is. But I’m convinced that Isaac Weld would have had a good relationship with the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine. They have a lot in common, although he is more in tune with the First-Nation peoples of North America rather than Aunt Judy’s Magazine editor’s fairies.

Another thing he discusses, after having visited a convent in Trois Rivières and meeting a young novice, "the fair Ur?uline, who came to the Iattice, ?eemed to be one of tho?e unfortunate females that had at la?t begun to feel all the horrors of confinement, and to lament the ra?hne?s of that vow which had fecluded her for ever from the world, and from the participation of tho?e innocent plea?ures, which, for the be?t and wi?e?t of purpo?es, the beneficent Ruler of the univer?e meant that his creatures ?hould enjoy. " is "the cruelty of the cu?tom which allows, and the mi?taken zeal of a religion that encourages, an artle?s and inexperienced young creature to renounce a world, of which ?he was de?tined perhaps, to be a happy and u?eful member, for an unprofitable life of ?olitude, and unremitted Penance for ?ins never committed"

Much, much later than usual I came back in here to revise for my Welsh lesson and then to take part therein. And once more, it went quite well too.

Earlier, I’d sent off my homework and I received it back, marked “brilliant” and with a note that my tutor loved my essay on James Bond.

After lunch I went on the hunt for music for the next radio programme. That wasn’t easy because some of it was quite obscure but in the end I managed to find what I needed. As well as that, a few gems fell into my hands too.

The trouble is that with this new program that I’m using to search and extract music, it’s not so good at finding the titles of the songs and becomes confused, so in the end I’ve switched off that option because it’s making more work than it’s saving. I’m having to do all of that by hand afterwards.

That’s probably taking more time than I’m saving with the speed of this program.

There was the break for hot chocolate of course, which was really nice. And while I was drinking it I rang up Isabelle the nurse.

Earlier in the day my faithful cleaner had stuck her head in at the door. She goes into town really early on Thursdays so if she fits my anaesthetic patches before she goes, the effect will have worn off by the time I’m plugged in. So she suggested that I telephone Isabelle and ask her if she would do it.

And so I did – and she agreed, which was nice of her. She’s much more friendly and serviable.

Tea tonight was a taco roll with stuffing and with rice and veg followed by the last of the chocolate cake. Tomorrow I’m starting on the ginger cake and I’ll tell you how it is.

But that’s tomorrow. Right now I’m off to bed.

But when Isaac Weld was in Trois Rivières I expected him to mention the enormous sundial in the town that I SAW WHEN I WAS THERE.
There’s a story about that sundial. There was one Québecois who asked another one to tell him the time
"I don’t have a watch" replied the second
"Well, go and look at the sundial" said the first
"Don’t be silly" said the second. "It’s dark outside"
"In that case" said the first "take a torch with you"

Monday 2nd December 2024 – I HAVE SEEN …

… my first “H” reg car today.

France isn’t like the UK – they simply issue all of the numbers consecutively until they run out, and then move on to the next letter and so on.

It’s about time that I saw one. They seem to have been stuck on GZ numbers for quite some considerable time, but this evening on the way home, parked in the Rue des Juifs there was an HA.

Interestingly, on the radio on the way home there was a talk about what the Press sees as the current financial crisis in France, with the cost of borrowing reaching 2.88% of GDP. That intrigued me because I don’t think that this amount is any big deal. Anyway I had a look, and found that the UK’s cost of borrowing is 4.4% of GDP – over half as much again.

In the USA it’s 2.86% – about the same as in France – and no-one is panicking over there. Interestingly, the USA’s borrowing is without anything even resembling the amount of social welfare that any other country pays out.

The record, by the way, according to the International Monetary Fund; is held by Ghana with 7.49%. In the Western World, it’s held by Iceland with 5.88%.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment, I was late again going to bed but I didn’t care at all. And once in bed, although it took an age to go to sleep, I slept the Sleep of the Dead once more, all the way round to … errr … 06:20.

Whatever awoke me I really have no idea, but once awake I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I thought but I definitely had my head in the clouds at 07:00 when the alarm went off.

It took a while for me to gather my wits, which is a surprise seeing how few I have these days, and when the room stopped spinning round I alighted and headed to the bathroom.

After a good wash I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone but to my disappointment there was nothing on there. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … the only excitement that I have these days is what goes on during the night.

The nurse came early yet again, which cheered me up because the quicker he comes, the quicker he goes. He’s on duty on Christmas Day, apparently, so I told him not to bother coming here that day. I’m going to have a lie-in.

Tomorrow, I’ll have to tell Isabelle the Nurse not to come on New Years Day either.

After he left I made breakfast and carried on reading ISAAC WELD’S BOOK, which I have now finished – at least, part I of it.

He’s absolutely sold on Canada by the way. He lists several really good reasons why one should leave the UK and go West. And while the USA is the preferred destination for so many at the end of the Eighteenth Century, and for so many good reasons too, he goes to great lengths to explain why each of these good reasons is even better in Canada.

He concludes with "From a due confideration of every one of the before mentioned circumflances, it appears evident to me, that there is no part of America fo fuitable to an Englifh or Irifh fettler as the vicinity of Montreal or Quebec in Canada,"

Tomorrow I’m going to start on part II as he travels back to Montréal on the CHEMIN DU ROY but in the opposite direction to that in which I travelled when I wrote my magnum opus.

After breakfast I came in here to finish off my Welsh homework. I had to write an essay on my favourite screen character so I chose James Bond.

If I were to ask people to name the first two Bonds they would inevitably say Sean Connery and Roger Moore. In fact Moore was the fourth. Second was David Niven in the first version of “CASINO ROYALE and third was George Lazenby in ON HER MAJESTY’S SECRET SERVICE.

Having finished my homework I started to prepare the next radio programme but was interrupted by the arrival of my faithful cleaner, come to fit my anaesthetic patches.

This new series of restrictions on the use of taxis is biting hard. We were three passengers in the taxi down to Avranches today. The other two came from somewhere miles out in the back country going home from a stay at the Centre Normandy and the car was driven by a driver who had no idea where anything at all was in Granville.

We were a crowded clinic today. Every bed was taken and once more I was last to be plugged in. The first pin went in my arm totally painlessly and I didn’t feel a thing. The second hurt like Hades and then they found that it wouldn’t work, so they had to fit a branching pipe to the first. They needn’t have fitted the second at all.

I spent the time studying my Welsh and downloading more literature that I’d been able to find. It turns out that Isaac Weld had a nephew, Charles Weld, who wrote extensively on the Arctic so I downloaded as much of it as I could find.

He also followed his uncle’s steps around Canada and the USA 50 years later and also wrote a book about his adventures. That too is a must-have as far as I’m concerned and it took a while to find a copy that I could download.

As I mentioned the other day, I can now access my LeClerc account from the Dialysis Clinic so I was busy reviewing the site and adding products onto my shopping list. Can you believe that my next LeClerc order will be the last one before Christmas? Hasn’t this year passed quickly?

While I’m at it, I’ll have to work out what other on-line shopping accounts I can access. The hospital’s firewall is quite restricting and using my ‘phone to access the internet isn’t always possible if I’m in the hospital too deep to access a wi-fi signal.

As well as all of that, I was being force-fed orange juice as my glucose level was so low.

My favourite taxi driver brought me home. She was strangely quiet which was a shame because I quite enjoy her running commentaries, especially when she’s annoyed.

Once more, I strode out and climbed the stairs boldly. I’m a long, long way from being able to climb even one of them without dragging myself up by the handrail on the wall, but at least It’s quite a change from how it used to be.

Back in here I had a little rest and then I made tea – a stuffed pepper with pasta. It was quite delicious too. It was followed by chocolate cake and lemon soya dessert.

That’s the last of the lemon soya, and tomorrow will see the last of the chocolate cake that has done me so well over the last couple of weeks. The ginger cake is cut into slices and is in the fridge ready for the next set of desserts

So now I’m off to bed ready for my Welsh class tomorrow.

Talking of James Bond, I once met Sir Roger Moore and I had a chat to him about the character that he played
"That’s right" he said. "They called me ‘Basildon Bond’"
"Why was that?" I asked, rather naively
"Well," he replied. "Since I’ve been knighted by the Queen I have letters after my name."

Sunday 1st December 2024 – MY CAULIFLOWER STALK …

… and broccoli stalk soup at lunchtime was absolutely delicious. I made myself a bread roll to dip in it too, and baked in the air fryer, it was perfection too. All in all it was one of the best lunches that I have ever eaten.

It’s the period of winter veg at LeClerc and so with broccoli and cauliflower being sold at giveaway prices, it’s too good to turn down

In fact, it’s been a good day today. And it started last night when I actually made it into bed at 23:45. Not 23:00 I know, but with it being a Sunday, there’s a lie-in until 08:00.

But at 08:00 I was actually up and about, working away at my desk in here. Something had awoken me from at 06:00 while I was in one of the deepest sleeps that I’ve had for ages. I’ve no idea what it was but I couldn’t go back to sleep afterwards. And by the time that 06:45 came round I’d given up and left the bed.

After I’d washed I came back in here and checked the dictaphone to see if I’d been anywhere during the night. There was something to do with a rock group and the young girl who was in it. She was attacked at some point by some kind of unearthly being. I’ve no idea why that should be but it was certainly the case.

We had a rock group yesterday, if I remember correctly. And a few days ago, we had a girl attacked by some kind of extra-terrestrial being. We seem to be doing a lot of repeating these days.

Then there was a Secret Service operation going on in London to do with the Russian embassy. They had to find a certain vehicle, break into it and steal some papers but they didn’t know exactly how they were going to do this. They knew that it was in some kind of code so they took with them one of Britain’s leading Civil Service codebreaker people. He was a very scared, elderly gentleman who was most uncomfortable as they were roaming around London looking for this keyword or whatever. They were surprised while they were searching somewhere and this elderly gentleman ended up stabbing someone. Of course that made him really panic. They had to try to restrain him and keep him with them even though he was ready to run at any moment. When someone came round, the caretaker of this building to find out what the noise had been, this elderly gentleman said “oh, I hear my ‘phone ringing” and ran away as fast as he could. Of course there was no way that these two people could stop him. They ended up roaming around this certain area in London on their own. They were looking at this shop that had closed down, some kind of vegan restaurant or shop, looking at all the adverts plastered everywhere all over it. There were four adverts for something or other but there stuck in the corner of one of the adverts was something like “Ron’s Taxis 5150”. That immediately gave them a clue because this taxi sticker wasn’t on any of the other three posters. It had something to do with the vehicle 515 or 5150 so they set off to wander around thinking that the ‘phone sticker advertising this taxi service was to do with the vehicle. They hadn’t yet figured out that at some stage they were going to see a taxi vehicle with the registration number RON 515 or RON 5150 that I’d figured out but they were wandering around London, something like that, when the dream evaporated

Codebreaking now in my dreams? It’s certainly impressive. Is there no end to my nocturnal skills? As I have said before, … "and on many occasions too" – ed … if only I had had in my life someone who was capable of harnessing all of these hidden talents that I must have buried deep within me.

The nurse was early yet again and he didn’t hang about long this time. That suited me fine and I could make my breakfast and carry on reading ISAAC WELD’S BOOK.

He’s now In the city of Québec, having left Montréal, and he’s just as enamoured of the city as I was. He tells us that "I must not conclude this letter without making mention of the fcenery that is exhibited to the view, from various parts of the upper town of Quebec, which, for its grandeur, its beauty, and its diverfity, furpafles all that I have hitherto feen in America, or indeed in any other part of the globe." and I cannot disagree.

He’s really in his element here, in fact. He’s given me a fascinating description of Wolfe’s storming of the Heights of Abraham and an excellent lecture on how Montcalm should have organised his defence to prevent his army and the city being overrun.

He’s also given us a lecture on the manufacture of sugar from maple syrup and how he would do it on a large scale and on a commercial basis, even calculating how much profit he would make per acre.

In fact, he’s given so many lectures and seems to be an expert on so many things that, when he said a few days ago that "A rational and agreeable companion, to whom you might communicate the refult of your obfervations, and with whom you might interchange fentiments on all occafions, could not but be deemed a pleafing acquisition,’", I would have been the first to volunteer to go with him. The two of us would have been experts on just about everything, boring the pants off just about everyone else whom we met.

Much of my free time was spent editing the radio notes that I’d dictated last night. I now hove two more programmes to add to the pile but I still can’t afford to relax. I have a lot to do and a short time to do it.

Stranraer were at home from a team way down the pyramid in the Scottish Cup. Although they played well and had a great deal of possession, and even though they hit the woodwork on a couple of occasions, they only scored one goal. Their opponents, Broxburn, just had two shots on target so you can guess the final score without too much effort.

This really was the nadir of Stranraer’s season to date.

It took quite a while to make my broccoli stalk and cauliflower stalk soup at lunchtime. It involved

one large onion
two cloves of garlic
one medium-sized potato
a broccoli stalk
a cauliflower stalk
cumin
coriander
marjoram
chives
chervil
half a litre of the water that you saved from the blanching of the carrots, broccoli and cauliflower on Saturday
vegetable stock cube
soya cream
fresh ground black pepper

chop and fry the onion until soft
chop the broccoli stalk, cauliflower stalk, garlic and potatoes into very tiny pieces and add them to the onion
add the herbs and spices
fry them for about 10-15 minutes
add enough water to cover the vegetables
add the stock cube and let everything simmer for 15 minutes
when everything is mushy, whizz it all up, adding the soya cream as you do so
serve with fresh ground pepper and fresh bread roll

There was pizza dough to make later on, and also a cake. This week I chose a ginger cake seeing as I had some fresh ginger on hand, and together with some desiccated coconut, coconut oil and orange flavouring, it smells delicious

Tonight’s pizza was one of the best that I have ever made too, and that’s good news because one or two just recently seem to have gone off the boil somewhat.

All in all it seems to have been a very good day for baking and making. There’s plenty of food on hand now to keep me going for a while.

Tomorrow I have my Welsh homework to finish off and then I’m off to dialysis – more agony and pain. I suppose that I’d better hurry up and go to bed to prepare myself.

But before I go, General Wolfe, who led the British Army to victory on the Heights of Abraham, was killed on the battlefield just as the victory was won. And there used to be an obelisk making the spot.
When I was there once though, a helpful local, and a very vocal local yokel at that too, told me that members of the Québec Libre – the Québec Separationists – sent it back to the UK
"Surely it was far, far too big to go in the post" I said
"Indeed it was" said the helpful local "but you’ll be amazed at the velocity released by 100 kilos of dynamite."

Saturday 30th November 2024 – ANOTHER PAINFUL SESSION …

… at the Dialysis Clinic. Another session where they had to put the branching connection into one of the pins and close the other off. There’s definitely something wrong with all of this as no-one else seems to be suffering in the same way that I do.

Or else it’s that I’m nesh and nothing more than a big baby. But that can’t be true as I have suffered quite a lot of pain quite stoically in the past..

But anyway, I digress.

Last night I finished my notes quite early (well, comparatively, anyway) and I could have gone to bed at a decent time. However I was listening to a concert on the internet and became rather engrossed, so I decided to stay up and watch the end of it. And then there was another one ….

So as the explorer Nansen once famously said, "the more extensive my studies became, the more riddles I perceived – riddle after riddle led to new riddles and this drew me on"

Consequently it was late when I went to bed, but I no longer care. If necessary I can sleep in the Dialysis Centre. It’s not as if I do very much else while I’m there.

It was another one of those nights where I slept the Sleep of the Dead and remember nothing of whatever might have gone on during the night – until all of 06:00 when I had another dramatic awakening. But when the alarm went off I was fast asleep yet again.

Once more, it was an undignified stagger into the bathroom for a good wash and a hunt for clean clothes as I don’t seem to have anything handy.

That was the cue for a major wash and even though I crammed as much as I could in the washing machine, there’s still a load left to do.

That’s the cue to change the bedding on Wednesday next week and so I can do yet another wash next Saturday morning too.

But while I was in the bathroom I had a shave to make myself look pretty, although I suspect that it will take more than a shave to do that.

There were the dictaphone notes to transcribe too. We were working at a music festival during the night, and one of the jobs that we were doing was erecting the tents and fitting the flooring. We had a huge pile of chipboard and a huge pile of tongue-and-grooving that we were using to fit out the floor. They were telling me that when they did this last year Peter Gabriel was there and when they went to fit the flooring in one tent they were using the flooring that had been used in his tent and found that underneath it was a big drawing that he’d drawn without anyone knowing. Of course they had pulled it up and all of the laths were distributed around elsewhere. There had to be some kind of mission to find these laths in order to reconstruct his drawing. There was a huge pile of chipboard downstairs at the bottom of the stairs that someone was cutting into squares with a huge circular saw. I was running the tongue and grooving around from one tent to the next that was erected. There was a huge argument going on. The festival organiser had ordered that one floor must be pulled up and taken away. I spoke to the guy who was in charge of the assembly of the tent. He told me that what he’d been doing was erecting the tents and then fitting the flooring inside the tent so that the turn-round at the foot of the wall of the tent was underneath the floor. That would stop the wind coming underneath the tent and into it. But for some reason the festival organiser wanted the turn-round to be above the floor. She had ordered all of the floors to be taken up. Of course, now they were going to be the wrong size but nevertheless she insisted. It seemed totally illogical to us that the tents should be erected that way. For a start, how do you fit the tent pegs in on the floor?

The concerts that I saw last night have clearly left their mark on me after all of that. But can I now add tent-erecting and furnishing to my list of subconscious night-time achievements?

Later on, we were on a ferry going to the mainland past a couple of islands. Someone was talking about one of these islands and talking about Iron Butterfly as if they had some kind of connection with it. I’d been on my way to see a friend. He’d had to go because he was going to see another friend of his who was thinking of joining some kind of rock group so they were going to meet the other players. This was strange because I’d been at someone’s house, another friend of mine, He was also going off to meet some players who were forming a group. I wondered if it could be the same people, it was such a coincidence. If it was, I felt rather sad and disappointed that they hadn’t invited me to go along with them to see what was happening with this group, if they needed a bassist. I felt quite disappointed about that.

It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve been forgotten by friends in these circumstances. But being on a ferry threading my way through the islands, am I missing the ferry between Sydney, Cape Breton and Argentia, Newfoundland? 27 hours of the Gulf of St Lawrence? Or is it that I’m missing life on THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR?

But there’s a funny story about that ferry. I had “roaming” switched off on my telephone during the three months that I was in North America living in Strider, but on that ferry as we approached the coast of Newfoundland my ‘phone suddenly went berserk with piles and piles of messages, missed phone calls and the like.

It turns out that Bane of Britain had forgotten that we pass close to the islands of St Pierre and Miquelon – still French possessions in the Gulf of St Lawrence – and all of the services there are provided by French companies, including my network operator back at home. And so my ‘phone had picked up a domestic signal.

The nurse came early again today but any benefit was negated by the time that it took for his card reader to connect to his bluetooth so that he could read my health card.

After he left I made my breakfast and carried on reading ISAAC WELD’S BOOK. He’s now made it to Canada.

He tells us that "the compact and neat exterior appearance of the houfes, the calaches, the bons dieux, the large Roman Catholic churches and chapels, the convents, the priefts in their robes, the nuns, the friars ; all ferve to convince you that you are no longer in any part of the United States"

He’s also had two encounters with bands of First-Nation people – at least, two that he reports. One of the chiefs says that "if we came to fee him he would make us very happy ; that there were fome very handfome fquaws in his village, and that each of us would have a wife"

The second one tells him that "fhe head clerk or principal agent" of the Hudsons Bay Company "generally marries an Indian girl, the daughter of fome eminent chief, by which he gains in a peculiar manner the affections of the whole tribe, a matter of great importance." but that "thefe marriages, as may be fuppofed, are not confidered as very binding by the hufband"

And all of that tells me far more about the morals of the Europeans in North America in the 18th Century than it does about anything else

However, why I’m so interested in Weld’s book is because for the last few days he’s been prowling around in areas that I know very well and about which I’ve written in the past. He’s now in Montréal talking about life there in late 1790 and I’m finding it totally fascinating. There are tons of stuff in there that seem to have slipped through the hands of the modern compliers of history.

When I’d finished, I had all of the washing to hang up and there was quite a load of it. The clothes airer was totally full and so was the octopus in the bathroom.

That took so long that there wasn’t much time left to do anything important before I was ambushed by my cleaner.

We’re running low on anaesthetic patches and the prescription is expired so she packed it in my bag and told me to find the doctor who wrote it and ask for a new one.

The taxi came for me and once we’d picked up my usual Saturday voyager the three of us headed off to Avranches.

As seems to be usual, I was left almost until last to be seen. I think that it’s because I seem to be the most complicated, but it’s also the most painful as the anaesthetic has worn off by then.

And once they started we had all of the issues about making the machine work and that took longer than it should.

The doctor was there but he kept a very low profile and as a result I didn’t receive a new prescription. But the nurses – bless them – had a scout around and came up with a dozen or so patches that I could take home.

When they finally unplugged me I made ready to leave but had to wait for the taxi. And I almost cornered the doctor too but he slunk away.

When the taxi turned up I climbed in but I still had to wait fifteen minutes for another passenger. The tightening of the belt is causing a few delays here and there.

Back here the cleaner watched my climb up to my apartment. She thinks that I’m moving much better these days and so I have a cunning plan, more of which anon .

Tea tonight was a breaded quorn fillet with baked potato and vegan salad followed by chocolate cake and lemon flavoured soya dessert.

There are now some radio notes to dictate and then I’m off to bed. I have a busy day tomorrow with soup to make, pizza dough to make and a cake to bake. There’s no end to what I’m trying to do.

But talking about Peter Gabriel … "well, one of us is" – ed … I once met some young musician who told me that not only had he met Peter Gabriel, Peter Gabriel had talked to him.
"That’s wonderful" I said. "What did he say to you?"
"He said ‘what are you doing in my f***ing dressing room?"

29th November 2024 – I HAVE BEEN …

… a busy boy this afternoon, and you’ve no idea how.

There has been a delivery from LeClerc and so I’ve been hard at work being quite domestic.

There was a good preparation for it too, because I was actually in bed before 23:00 last night. Not by much, I have to admit, but even a minute is worth noting as it so rarely happens these days.

Once more, once I had fallen asleep I had the Sleep of the Dead and didn’t stir until 07:00.

When the alarm went off it took me a few minutes to gather my senses, which is a big surprise seeing how few there seem to be these days. But once the World had stopped spinning and I’d alighted, I staggered off into the bathroom.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night; if anywhere, because I didn’t remember a thing. However There was a story at some point during the night that a farmer’s daughter – not The Farmer’s Daughter whom we all know and love – had an encounter with a group of extra-terrestrial beings, an unpleasant encounter at that.

Later on there was a story about some man in Crewe who had to go to school as quite a schoolgirl. He had to enquire of his family where the school was. It turned out that it was right down at the far end of Earle Street. he spent a lot of time making himself ready but when it was time to go he looked nothing like a schoolgirl at all. He was like a man. He could see immediately that this was not going to work and so wondered how he could leave off going. He checked with the woman who was going to be his mother in this thing. She replied that she would continue to be here until 12:00 before going to work, so he couldn’t actually extricate himself from it in the morning. In the end he set off with his sister for the purposes of this story but he was really I suppose the daughter of the people with whom he was staying. As they set off they saw one or two other men with beards dressed in school uniform. The girl made some kind of comment that the guy couldn’t appreciate anything of this because he was realising more and more that this wasn’t going to work and how he wished that he could abandon it. Later on there was something about several men having their beards shaved off for reasons that I can’t remember because that part of the dream has unfortunately evaporated but there are definitely men in this who were having their beards shaved off.

It’s a shame that that dream evaporated because it would have been interesting to see where it would have led. It did actually have a connection in real life, if it could be called that, with a group of people who go around dressed up as all kinds of things, furry animals, cartoon characters and the like and go swarming at a certain place at a certain time. Hannah and I ran into them once in Brussels early one morning while they were off to swarm somewhere round by the Heysel Stadium.

The nurse came early today which was nice. He didn’t stay long either which was even nicer. Neither did he have much to say, although he encouraged me to continue with dialysis at any price.

Once he’d left I made breakfast and then carried on reading ISAAC WELD’S BOOK.

He’s still going on … "and on, and on etc." – ed … about taverns, not just about the accommodation but now he’s added the quality of food available (or not, as the case may be) to his list of complaints. "Salted pork, boiled with turnip tops by way of greens, or fried bacon, or fried falted fifh, with warm fallad, drefTed with vinegar and the melted fat which remains in the fryingpan after dreffing the bacon, is the only food to be got at moft of the taverns in this country"

However, as he’s now on his way to Canada, and having encountered all of the difficulties, both natural and man-made, that it would be possible to encounter, he’s fetched up in Albany, the State capital of New York State, where he’s trying to hire a carriage. However, the two carriage hire companies are in collusion and holding him to ransom.

But it’s Independence Day in the USA and while this day "would, it might be expected have called forth more brilliant and more general rejoicings; but the downright phlegmatic people in this neighbourhood, intent upon making money, and enjoying the folid advantages of the revolution, are but little difpofed to wafte their time in what they confider idle demonftrations of joy"

However he saves his most poisonous vitriol for when he’s “entertained” by a prosperous farmer in the Lake Champlain valley and is shown around what he took to be a lush local farmhouse.

How he was disappointed by what he saw. Disappointed and more besides. "That people can live in fuch a manner, who have the necefTaries and conveniencies cf life within their reach, as much as any others in the world, is really moft aftonifhing ! It is, however, to be accounted for, by that defire of making money, which is the predominant feature in the character of the Americans in general, and leads the petty farmer in particular to fuiTer numberlefs inconveniencies, when he can gain by fo doing ……. Money is his idol, and to procure it he gladly foregoes every felf-gratification."

He’s now only a couple of days away from the border with Québec and I’ll be interested to see what comparison he makes between the USA and Québec. I’ve driven around here a few times and the border seemed to be fairly seamless to me.

Back in here I had my order for LeClerc to finish off and set in motion to be delivered this afternoon, and then there was paperwork to tidy up and bills to pay. But at least I could pay them via the internet so I suppose it isn’t as difficult as it otherwise might be.

While I was at it, I tried to contact the hospital in Paris but each time that I tried, I had the answerphone in response and in the end I forgot to carry on.

There was however an incoming ‘phone call. It was the chiropodist. He’s had an unexpected vacancy this afternoon so could he come by here? Well, the sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s over, isn’t it?.

After (a late) lunch I tidied up the kitchen, which was just as well because the LeClerc delivery came early. So now I have tons of food, including a butternut squash that will make a nice change roasted and mashed as a vegetable with some potatoes.

There were carrots of course, but also broccoli and a cauliflower so there was quite a load of washing, dicing, blanching and freezing. It’s a good job that I’ve made plenty of space in my freezer with this defrosting exercise

In fact, there was quite a lot of stuff, either frozen or to be frozen, on my list that needed putting in the freezer so that kept me busy too.

The chiropodist came round and saw to my feet. He thinks that my feet need much more attention than they have had in the past, which was no attention at all. He’ll be back again in a few months time to check on them.

There was bread to make too, seeing as I’ve now run out. I managed to do all of that in between everything else that I had to do.

Tea tonight was a vegan salad with some of those vegan nuggets and air-fried chips, followed by chocolate cake and lemon soya dessert. I’m running low on chocolate cake so on Sunday I’ll make a ginger cake now that I have some fresh ginger. Now that I also have plenty of coconut oil, it should be exciting if I use some of that too.

Isaac Weld, our author, passed through New York on his way north up the Hudson Valley, and looking at some of the buildings, it reminded him of a conversation that he’d had in Dublin with an American who had come “home” for a visit.
Weld was showing him around the city and he pointed out on particular building as being the pride of the city because of its architecture.
"But it’s so tiny!" exclaimed the American. "Back home every city has many buildings ten times bigger than that§"
"I’m not surprised" said Weld. "After all, it is the lunatic asylum."

Thursday 28th November 2024 – I AM GOING …

… to shut up about this blasted dialysis. Once more I’ve had a pretty miserable and painful experience. I’m convinced that it’s the implant in my arm that’s not working properly. I don’t see what else it might be.

Mind you, regular readers of this rubbish will recall that a few weeks ago they gave it a scan and they told me that it was working fine just then. It can’t have given up the ghost since then, not so dramatically.

It’s enough to put me off my sleep. It’s bad enough for me to have to go through all of this with all these pipes and tubes, and that’s without any pain as well.

It put me somewhat off my sleep last night. It was once more quite late when I went off to bed. It was after midnight and I was still letting it all hang out.

But once I was in bed I didn’t feel a thing. It was totally painless, all the way through to the alarm going off. I didn’t feel a thing or move a muscle.

When the alarm went off I fell out of bed and went off to the bathroom for a good wash to try to liven myself up. But that’s an impossible task these days.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And to my surprise the dictaphone was empty. There was nothing on it all all.

The surprising part about that is that I have two very clear and distinct memories from the night going round in my head. The first was that I had a new medication to take, but it wasn’t to start for a couple of days so I had to hide it under the bed until the appropriate time in case anyone else found it. This was a dream so vivid that I almost went to look under the bed when I awoke this morning.

The second was that I was in Crewe Town Centre on the corner of Queensway and Victoria Street talking to someone and it suddenly occurred to me that they had rebuilt the area that they demolished last year, but it didn’t look all that different. So I wondered why they had gone to all that expense to do so. A few of the buildings were finished in different materials to the others, but the biggest difference was that the building right on the corner only had one glass window, that facing into Queensway and the wall in Victoria Street was blank. In our opinion that immediately ruled out any big retailer from taking up the lease. One of the shops opposite had been converted and fitted out as a hot pie shop, bakery and café but it was so narrow and the display window so small, but going deep inside the building, was so impractical as to be useless and we thought that it would never be let to a serious retailer. All in all, our opinion of the rebuilding of the Town Centre was that it was a dismal failure and a total waste of money.

And this dream was so vivid that I had to look at an on-line mapping service to make sure that Crewe Town Centre was still looking like Fallujah after an American offensive.

When the nurse came round we had a chat about chiropodists. Of course, as usual he would always have chosen “the other one” so it’s not really worth asking him things like this.

After he left I made breakfast and read more of ISAAC WELD’S BOOK. He’s calmed down a lot today. In fact, he’s gone sightseeing.

There is a rock bridge in the USA that is effectively the remains of a roof of a collapsed cavern but back in 1790 it was quite something. Our hero is so enthralled by it that he’s forgotten to have his usual moan about taverns and innkeepers.

Later on, back in here I had a few things to do and was so engrossed that I was taken unawares by the arrival of my cleaner. It was time for her to apply my patches.

Once it was done I had to wait for the taxi. It already had another passenger in it so the three of us (driver and two passengers) had quite a chatty drive all the way down to Avranches.

There was something of a wait while the nurse on duty coupled everyone up. There was another nurse with her – a trainee in that department – so it took ages because every single step of the procedure had to be done exactly by the book

Nevertheless there didn’t seem to be a procedure to cover what to do about my reaction when she stuck the needle in my arm.

This afternoon I revised my Welsh and then read some more of Hakluyt’s PRINCIPALL NAVIGATIONS.

And while Isaac Weld might have calmed down, Hakluyt certainly hadn’t. He’d heard a story about a trip that "set forth out of the Thames the 20 day of May in the 19 yeere of his raigne, which was the yere of our Lord. 1527" and went to North America where “white bears” were found (so God alone knows exactly where the people went) and which descended into cannibalism.

However, to his lasting dismay and regret (and mine too) "And thus much (by reason of the great negligence of the writers of those times, who should have used more care in preserving of the memories of the worthy actes of our nation,) is all that hitherto I can learne, or finde out of this voyage"

Another thing that I discovered is that I can access my LeClerc account and so I spent some time going over my order again. I’ll give it another run-through tomorrow morning before I send it off.

Unplugging me was almost as painful as unplugging me. It was Julie the Cook’s turn to sit by me and compress my arm afterwards.

She’s booking a flight to San Francisco to go to see her brother who lives there, so I told her that if there was any room in her suitcase to fit me in. She wanted to know if we should take the dialysis machine too.

The taxi was waiting for me and we had what I thought was a rather nervous drive back to Granville.

My cleaner was waiting and watched in amazement as I strode manfully … "PERSONfully" – ed … up all the steps into my apartment.

Tea tonight was a stir-fry of rice, veg and some beansprouts. That was nice with my chocolate cake and lemon soya for dessert.

So right now I’m off to bed but not before I describe another encounter that Isaac Weld had with a local.
He arrived at a river and the only way to cross was to swim so he asked a local in a boat "are there any alligators in this river?"
"None at all" replied the local, so Weld dives in and swims for the opposite shore.
Half-way across the river he swims alongside the boat and asks the local "How come there are no alligators in this river?"
"There used to be" said the local "but the sharks took care of them all."

Wednesday 27th November 2024 – I’VE DONE IT AGAIN.

It’s strange, isn’t it? That it always seems to happen on a Wednesday. But once again I had a very late night, or more like, an early morning because it was long, long after 03:00 when I finally crawled off to bed.

And when I was in bed I can’t remember if I went to sleep or not. I have vague memories of being awake throughout the night last night.

However when the alarm went off I was asleep and what surprised me was that it wasn’t as difficult as I thought that it would be to raise myself from the bed

In the bathroom I had a good wash and scrub up to keep me going until this afternoon and then came back in here to see if there was anything on the dictaphone from what little of the night there was.

And to my surprise there was something on there too. But I’m not going to mention it because you are probably eating your meal at the moment. It actually concerned the South-Eastern USA and slaves. I’ve been reading too much Isaac Weld, I reckon.

The nurse came early today and he didn’t hang around for long. And so it was earlier than usual when I sat down to eat my breakfast.

However, I was engrossed in ISAAC WELD’S BOOK

He’s still having issues on his travels, and he must have had some unfortunate run-in with some more American people because he writes "Intoxication is very prevalent, and it is fcarcely poffible to meet with a man who does not begin the day with taking one, two, or more drams as foon as he rifes. Brandy is the liquor which they principally ufe, and having the greater abundance of peaches, they make it at a very trifling expence."

As well as that, he’s also continuing on his favourite subject, the quality of the accommodation on offer in the USA.

He writes " The accommodation at the taverns along this road I found moft wretched ; nothing was to be had but rancid fifh, fat falt pork, and bread made of Indian corn. For this indifferent fare alfo 1 had to wait oftentimes an hour or two."

Nevertheless, Weld would have been glad of that because next day, having arrived late at his next lodgings and having to argue for an hour to be let in, "returning to the houfe, I was fhewn into a room about ten feet fquare, in which were two filthy beds fwarming with bugs ; the ceiling had mouldered away, and the walls admitted light in various places … Unable therefore to procure any food, and fatigued with a long journey during a parching day, I threw myfelf down on one of the beds in my clothes, and enjoyed a profound repofe, notwithftanding the repeated onfets of the bugs and other vermin with which I was molefted."

It sounds vey much like THAT MOTEL IN FLAGSTAFF ARIZONA, where I stayed in 2002.

His observations throughout his journey are fascinating and I’m enthralled by his book and its contents. He tells us "the people in this part of the country, bordering upon James River, are extremely fond of an entertainment which they call a barbacue. It confifts in a large party meeting together, either under fome trees, or in a houfe, to partake of a flurgeon or pig roafted in the open air, on a fort of hurdle, over a flow fire; this, however, is an entertainment chiefly confined to the lower ranks,."

However, his cynicism is wonderful and I’m appreciating his book more and more. He finishes his talk of “barbacues” with"like moft others of the fame nature, it generally ends in intoxication."

Back in here I had a slow start to the day, which is not surprising given the night that I’d had last night (or this morning) but once I’d organised myself I set about finishing off the radio programme that I’d started to edit yesterday (was it yesterday?).

There were several interruptions of course. Lunch was first and then my cleaner turned up to do her stuff.

Once she’d organised the bathroom I went to have a shower. And how much I enjoyed it too. It really was lovely and what was even nicer was that I climbed in and out without any help from my cleaner . However, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s not a good idea to try it on my own with no-one about.

There was the hot chocolate break too. I didn’t forget today, which is just as well because I do like that.

While I was at it I began my order from LeClerc. My cleaner had told me of a few things that we need so I may as well begin.

Tea tonight was a leftover curry. I’d taken some naan bread dough from the freezer and it had been defrosting throughout the afternoon.

The curry was delicious as usual and the chocolate cake, with lemon-flavoured dessert tonight, was just as nice.

Bedtime right now, ready for the next lot of issues at the Dialysis Clinic. And there’s really no end to all of this and it’s something that I’ll have to suffer for the rest of my life, if I live that long.

However I did feel sorry for Isaac Weld, on his travels confronting yet more intoxicated Americans. "Whenever thefe people come to blows, they fight juft like wild beafts, biting, kicking, and endeavouring to tear each other’s eyes out with their nails. It is by no means uncommon to meet with thofe who have loft an eye in a combat, and there are men who pride themfelves upon the dexterity with which they can feoop one out. This is called gouging … But what is worfe than all, thefe wretches in their combat endeavour to their utmoft to tear out each other’s teiticles."

He met one of these intoxicated Americans in the street. "You’re drunk!" he roared
"No I’m not!" replied the American
"Ohh yes you are!"
"I’m not at all" replied the American. "I know full well when I’m drunk"
"When’s that?" asked Weld
"It’s when I start to see double" replied the American "like when the two of you become four"

Tuesday 26th November 2024 – HOW LONG IS IT …

… since I’ve had a day where I’ve not done very much more than relax?

And before anyone says anything, I know that I shouldn’t because I have far too much work to do and not very much time to do it, but I had a nice, relaxing day all the same.

Last night, though, it was another late night. Not as late as some have been but still after 23:00. And once in bed I slept the Sleep of the Dead and remember almost nothing of whatever might (or might not) have happened during the night.

When the alarm went off I staggered into the bathroom as usual and had a good wash, then came back in here to listen to the dictaphpne to find out where I’d been during the night. There was something about FX4 taxis in London, whether I was thinking of buying one or going to work as a taxi driver but suddenly I was sent out on a mission to Brazil. While I was there my guide or whatever, she took me to several taxi proprietors in Brazil and I even had a ride in a new FX4 – a drive. I didn’t like it at all. I made a few enquiries about other things while I was there, the result of which was that by the time I came back to the UK I’d had a complete change of mind. My boss called me in and asked me what I thought of Brazil so I told him. Then I asked about the taxis so I told him that I’d given it some thought and now I’d decided that I was against it. He explained that that was why he’d sent me to Brazil, that I’d have some experience about making a decision when I would come back. He asked me quite pointedly “you didn’t actually drive any of them while you were there, did you?”. I replied “yes, I drove one or two”. That really took him by surprise and upset him for some reason.

What an FX4 would be doing in Brazil I really have no idea. There used to be thousands of them in London (and there probably still are quite a few) and any time-expired ones would be scattered to the four winds. I’ve seen them in France, Germany, the USA and Canada but Brazil would be most unlikely. I almost had one once, and not as a taxi. But when I was looking for a vehicle to come to Belgium when I was leaving the UK I went to see an FX4 that was for sale by a bus company in Stoke on Trent. And being a diesel, I would have had it too, had it not been sold before I could liquidate the cash. It would have been a useful tool to have had.

I was then working for the “despatching” for the railway. It was quite early in the morning and we had two trains going out at 05:22, little side-tank steam locomotives taking one or two carriages out, one going via Barrow-in-Furness and the other going direct to the destination. I went down at about 04:00, found the drivers and told the one that his trip had been cancelled and the second that he was to take his train around the other route. I don’t know why I did that but that was what I did. They had something of a moan but I explained that that was what was going to happen. I went back up to my office. Later on I suddenly realised what I’d done. I looked at the time and it was 05:18 and the trains were due to leave at 05:22. I dashed downstairs and outside onto the platform to find that the one had already gone and the other one had reversed off the platform and was heading back to the locomotive depot. I went slowly back upstairs thinking “I’m going to be in some serious trouble about this”. When I walked in to the office the boss said “I want a word with you”. I thought “here we go”. He said “I think that you ought to open your curtains, you know”. I replied “I’ve already opened them once”. He replied “then you need to open them again”. I opened the curtains and found that the ones outside had been closed too. I said to the people sitting at the table by the window to mind their heads. “I could have a nap hand of heads here if you aren’t careful”. I opened the window and opened the curtains.

Even now I can still see the locomotives. Little side-tank 0-4-2 outside cylinder things, both of them. But this is another dream that I don’t understand because, once again, it bears no relevance whatever to anything that I’m doing or have done.

However, when the alarm sounded and I awoke, I still had the affair of these two trains going round and round in my head. I don’t know what I hoped that I was going to do about it at this time of morning but anyway …

The nurse came early today. We had a chat about dialysis and he tells me that there’s no alternative to dialysis and the conversation went something like that between Sam and Frodo near the end of Lord of the Rings

"Have you thought of an ending?"

Yes, several, and all are dark and unpleasant."

After he left I made breakfast and carried on reading MY BOOK

Our hero, apart from giving us all kinds of travel information that would have been useful at the time, as well as a geological lesson on the soils of North America, is continuing to enthral us with his three favourite subjects.

He’s had another uncomfortable encounter with some Americans and so tells us that "civility, as I before faid, is not to be purchafed at any expence in America, neverthelefs the people will pocket your money with the utmoit readinefs, though without thanking you for it. Of all beings on the earth, Americans are the moil interefted and covetous."

That took place at a tavern where "at the American taverns, as I before mentioned, all forts of people, juft as they happen to arrive, are crammed together into the one room, where they muft reconcile themfelves to each other the befl way thsy can."

However, he reserves his most powerful vitriol for the slavery that he sees everywhere. "I am told, that it is no uncommon thing there, to fee gangs of negroes ftaked at a horfe race, and to fee thefe unfortunate beings bandied about from one let of drunken gamblers to another for days together. How much to be deprecated are the laws which fuller fuch abufes to exift ! yet thefe are the laws enacted by people who boaft of their love of liberty and independence, and who prefume to fay, that it is in the breads of Americans alone that the bleffings of freedom are held in jusl estimation…… It is immaterial under what form flavery prefents itfelf, whenever it appears there is ample caufe for humanity to weep at the fight, and to lament that men can be found fo forgetful of their own iituations, as to live regardlefs of the feelings of their fellow creatures."

Back in here I revised my Welsh and then went for the lesson. Once more, it all seemed to pass quite well. Maybe this dialysis is working on clearing my head a little and shifting the fog. I wonder what I have to do to clear whatever it is that’s blocking my memory from working.

After lunch Liz and I had a very long chat on the internet. And it’s been ages since we talked so we had a lot to discuss. It wasn’t quite a Rosemaryesque conversation but it was near enough.

Afterwards I had a few things to do and ended up being so engrossed that I missed my hot chocolate. That’ll teach me.

Tea tonight was a taco roll with the last of the refried beans. I’ll have to find a recipe to make them because they really were nice. It should be quite interesting, as long as they don’t use exclusively some obscure kind of bean that’s not available so easily over here.

My cleaner stuck her head in too. She’d been to LeClerc and had bought me some more cheese for future pizze. And also some coconut oil – four jars of it. She was going to buy just two for me but saw that they only had four in stock so she bought the lot “just in case”.

Now I’ll be cooking in coconut oil for the next heaven-knows how long.

So now, much later than usual, I’m off to bed. Tomorrow is another day. And there will be more of Isaac Weld’s book to read.

But his account of his visit reminds me of another Irishman who visited the USA but in modern times. He too had a run-in with an unfriendly American in the Tavern From Hell.
He mentioned that he was from Ireland and the American replied "Yes I know it. I know it well. My great great grand-daddy comes from there so I’m Irish" to which our Irishman snorted.
"But your Irish country is so sad" continued the American "everything is so small"
"What do you mean?" asked the Irishman
"Take your farms" said the American. "Why, back in Texas, I can get in my car and it takes two days to drive from one side of my land to the other"
"I sympathise with you" said the Irishman. "I know just how you feel"
"You do?" exclaimed the American, incredulously
"Oh yes" replied the Irishman. "I used to have a car like that myself"

Monday 25th November 2024 – I AM STILL IN …

… agony after the session at the Dialysis Clinic this afternoon.

Once more, they could only fit one pin into the tube in my arm, once more it hurt like absolute Hades, and once more they had to come running to the machine every five minutes when it let out its little plaintive wail.

So what am I going to do? I don’t know. I have no idea what the alternatives are. The visiting nurse who is on duty as of tomorrow formerly worked in a Dialysis Clinic, but I suspect that I’ll be wasting my time asking him. Every time I ask him a question, he replies with a completely different answer.

But the agony is now going beyond a joke. It can’t really, surely, be as painful as this? No-one else seems to have the slightest problem

By the looks of things, everything seems to be a problem these days. Like going to bed, for example. Last night I couldn’t even be in bed for midnight, there was that much going on that needed doing and finishing.

So when I finally crawled into bed I didn’t have much time to sleep but, believe me, I was out like a light once I was in bed, and there I stayed until the alarm went off.

When I awoke, it was with a mighty crash – one of THOSE awakenings where the whole World seems to stop. Except of course that it was still spinning round and I had to wait, poised, on the side of my bed until it stopped spinning and I could stand up.

In the bathroom I had a wash, a shave and washed my undies. I need to do what I can to keep clean as much as I possibly can.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. There was a quiet, shy girl who worked in an office somewhere. She used our vehicles every now and again for hospital runs. Sometimes I’d take her, and I’d quite enjoyed taking her too. I came to quite like her. I was hoping that she might quite like me as well but nothing ever came of it for a while which was quite sad. One day I had to take her to the hospital but for some reason we decided to walk there. She came out of her office, and she told me about some of the things that she’d been doing over the last couple of weeks as we set off. I knew the short-cut through the hills so we walked through the hills. She began to tell me a few more interesting things. We climbed over this steep bit of hill. There were two types like this that we climbed over. We found ourselves in a little valley. As we walked along this small valley we saw a sign that said “exhibition of the factory that made Churchill’s beds. I made some kind of witty remark about that and carried on walking. I put my hand down and found her hand, and began to hold it. She didn’t take her hand away, just left it there for me to hold and we walked off hand-in-hand like that

So i Got The Girl last night, and no-one from my family came along to spike my guns or put le baton dans le roue as they say around here. That’s not something that happens every day, is it? And a guided tour of the factory that made Churchill’s beds? That sounds exciting and is obviously a trip not to be missed. But that range of hills – it’s the one that we’ve walked – and skied – over on many occasions in the past and keeps on reoccurring. I’ve no idea where it is, although you would think that I would know by now.

There was also something else, that I haven’t dictated but that I have a very strong memory of it happening during the night, of going into a newspaper office and placing an advert to sell the van. I can even remember describing it in great detail. I’ve no idea though why there’s nothing like this on the dictaphone. It makes me wonder what else I’ve missed in the past. Nothing involving Castor, TOTGA or Zero, I hope.

The nurse came and told me some more about the demolition of the War Memorial. It seems that following a poll where the town was something like 90% against the mayor’s plan to remove it, the mayor is going to move it anyway. My nurse expressed herself in such extremely unparliamentary language that had someone from the General Medical Council heard her, she would have been struck off.

After she left, I made breakfast and carried on reading MY BOOK

Our author, Isaac Weld, is remarkably prescient. You have to remember that he is writing in the 1790s, and makes some predictions that are astonishingly accurate.

"at a future day, if the affairs of the United States go on as profperouHy as they have done, it will become the grand emporium of the weft, and rival in magnitude and fplendor the cities of the old world."

And talking of the removal of Congress from Philadelphia to Washington he predicts "a large majority, however, of the people in the United States is defirous that the removal of the feat of government mould take place and there is little doubt but it will take place at the appointed time. The difcontents indeed, which an oppolite meafure would give rife to in the fouth could not but be alarming and if they did not occafion a total feparation of the fouthern from the northern ftates, yet they would certainly materially deftroy that harmony which has hitherto exifted between them."

He also talks about "the prefident’s houfe, which is nearly completed on the outride, is two ftories high, and built of free ftone. The principal room in it is of an oval form", something that will ring a bell with many people today.

He saves most of his vitriol for Washington himself when he visits Washington’s house and the first things that he sees are the "SLAVE" (his capitals, not mine) cabins.

He says, on the subject of Washington’s slaves, "Happy would it have been, if the man who flood forth the champion of a nation contending for its freedom, and whofe declaration to the whole world was, ” That all men were created equal, and that they were endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, amongft the firft of which were life, liberty, and the purfuit of happinefs;” happy would it have been, if this man could have been the firft to wave all interelted views, to liberate his own flaves, and thus convince the people he had fought for, that it was their duty, when they had eftablifhed their own independence, to give freedom to thofe whom they had themfelves held in bondage !"

No more needs to be said.

Back in here I had things to do, such as my Welsh homework, and then I carried on with editing the radio programme notes. However the Welsh homework had taken me much longer than it ought to have done so there wasn’t much time for the radio

My cleaner turned up bang on time and fitted my anaesthetic patches and then helped me tidy up the mess from yesterday. We kept all of the packaging because it will all come in useful in the future

The taxi was early because we had to go to pick up someone else – this sharing of taxis now is proving to be inconvenient but who am I to complain?

And then we had the pantomime of fitting the plug in my arm. And how painful was that? Nothing that they tried to do seemed to make any difference until after about an hour, they finally found a position in which the machine was comfortable. Then they taped the plug and pipes to my arm with so much tape that it was ridiculous

Even before I’d arrived, I’d made up my mind to speak to the doctor about the situation.

There’s a team of four doctors whom I’ve identified so far and as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … there’s one of them who gives the impression that he really doesn’t want to be there. So guess who was on duty today.

He is really disinterested in his job and has no interpersonal skills at all. So I told him about the situation and his immediate response was to tell the nurse to bring me a Doliprane – a notion that I immediately shot down.

No, a painkiller is no good for me. I want the situation resolved. In the end he agreed to arrange a scan of my implant to see what the problem might be. “But it won’t be today”.

While we’re on the subject of scans … "well, one of us is" – ed … I asked him what was the plan about the scan that I’d had the other day.

“Nothing” was the answer. “We’ll see how it goes because things like this usually disappear after a couple of weeks or months”.

“Seeing as I’ve been suffering like this for over a year” I said, “I promise you it won’t go away ‘in a couple of weeks’ ”

That rather deflated his ego and he beat a hasty retreat.

They eventually unplugged me, hours later than it ought to have been and the poor taxi driver had to wait quite a while.

Luckily it was one of the friendly ones and we had a good chat all the way back to Granville.

My cleaner was waiting and watched as I climbed all the stairs on my own up to my room

Tea tonight was a stuffed pepper with plenty of stuffing left over for a curry on Wednesday. Tomorrow I’ll use the last of the refried beans.

But wasn’t it a lovely change to go to the freezer and open the drawers without a fight? I hope that the drawers last without breaking again until I can move downstairs and have a decent fridge-freezer.

But right now I’m off to bed, not before time too. It’s my Welsh class tomorrow and I want to be on top form.

But one of the nurses told me about a footballer who was admitted to the emergency department on Saturday with a dislocated knee.
He screamed “Blue Murder” when the physiotherapist went to put it back in place.
“"Don’t be a baby" urged the nurse. "There’s a woman in Maternity who has just given birth to triplets and she’s made far less noise than that"
"You go and try to put them back in" said the footballer "and see what noise she makes then!"

Sunday 24th November 2024 – RIGHT NOW I’M IN …

… absolute agony yet again, having been standing on my feet for several hours.

It’s the lack of muscles in my knees that is causing the pain. If I want to stand up without my crutches, such as if I want to use my hands, I have to wedge my legs so that the knee-bones lock in a certain way and after a while it hurts like hell

Still the most important job of the week is done, even if several less-important ones have not so been.

Take the radio notes for example. Last night after I finished writing my notes I had the dictating of the radio notes to do – two lots of them. I was also having a chat on-line with my niece from Canada.

Her middle daughter, my great little niece (or is it “little great niece”?) was married a year ago and now lives in Michigan in the USA and her youngest daughter, another my great little niece (or is it “little great niece”?) is at “St. F-X” – St Francis Xavier University in Antigonish, Nova Scotia, the best University in Canada.

We’re planning a group meeting soon, a video chat on one of the on-line platforms seeing as we haven’t all seen each other for an age.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I was invited to the wedding in Michigan last November so I tried a “dummy run” to Belgium last September to see how I would cope with the journey on my crutches with just a backpack, but failed miserably so I didn’t manage to go to the USA.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment I finished off the dictation, finished off the chat and crawled into bed much later than I would have liked.

When the alarm went off I fell out of bed and wandered off for a quick wash and brush up. It’s Sunday, I’ve had an hour’s lie in and the nurse will be here soon so I need to hurry.

But back in the bedroom I have a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I was during the night. The wind awoke me at 03:00 (not that I knew anything about it) but at that point I’d been off on an expedition with the native Americans. We’d paddled down the coast as far as we could to Florida and then walked back, describing a few of the tribes that we’d met and a few of their characteristics. Several of them were noted as lazy and several others had different epithets. In the end we said that it’s a far better representation of ourselves amongst the native Americans, we want to build a stronger fort to protect our settlement. He goes on to say that although there’s not a lot of land in each settlement they’ve crammed in many men, sometimes more men than the land is worth and they really need more soldiers going to serve as colonists so that they can have some kind of native element to protect the settlements against the French or the French can protect their own settlements against anyone, even the British who were currently their allies at the moment.

This reminds me of the book that I’m reading right now. Our author travels by water all the way down the St Lawrence River and then comes back on land.

But the conflict between the English and the French, with various native American tribes on different sides (or not as the case may be) went on all along the Hudson River valley and out into Ohio, Kentucky and Tennessee for the best part of a hundred years, on and off. It was a fierce, vicious war at times and was well-documented in stories such as Fenimore Cooper’s LAST OF THE MOHICANS

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that WE VISITED MANY OF THE BATTLEFIELD SITES in the Hudson valley in 2013 when we had that slow drive back to Montreal that took several weeks

We made it to Ticonderoga, Fort William Henry and all of the other places that Fenimore Cooper made famous in his “Leatherstocking Tales” of the Seven Years War in North America.

I’m not sure where I was but there was a choice of two cars. We had to choose one of three cars, An Austin Maxi, an Austin Princess HL and a Marina. I remember thinking that that’s the whole total of the British car output of the United Kingdom represented in that lot. We had a really good look round at them but couldn’t see anything or any reason to break any kind of monopoly position with Ford because there were quite a few issues with the British cars, even coming just straight off the production line and we couldn’t really at the time negotiating and repairing all of the bits that they needed to give us a car that we wanted

In the past I’ve had various cars and vans and I have to say that I’ve always returned to having Fords. I’m not sure what I’ll be having next. It’ll have to be whatever is available at the moment that has hand controls fitted.

The nurse turned up and was in chat mode today. She asked for my Carte Vitale – my health card – because she’ll be off on Tuesday and won’t be back until after the start of the next month so she has to make up her accounts.

After she left, I made breakfast and carried on reading my book. And I learned something new today.

Over the years, I have always wondered why the “District of Columbia” where the city of “Washington DC” is situated, is not included in the territory of any of the States. And thanks to Isaac Weld who was there at the time of its creation, now I know.

Congress used to meet in Philadelphia but at the end of the Revolutionary War it was besieged by discontented soldiers whose pay was in arrears. And the Pennsylvania State Government, in sympathy with the soldiers, refused to summon up the State’s forces of law and order quell the riot.

Consequently it was decided that there should be a territory created to house the Congress, where Congress itself could act as the local Government, issue by-laws, control the law enforcement officers and so on, and not be dependent upon any State authority.

In HIS BOOK he talks at great length about why that particular site was chosen. He is certainly very informative, if not garrulous.

Back in here, much later than usual thanks to the late arrival of the nurse, I had football to watch.

For some reason I couldn’t find a video of Stranraer’s game against Spartans. I later found out that the match had been postponed.

As for te Welsh football, there was one game missing – Hwlffordd v Y Bala, and it took an age to find that one.

The radio notes that I’d dictated were quite complicated. So far, I’ve only managed to finish editing one and I’m halfway through the other. I’m a long way from being where I wanted to be, with two radio programmes fully completed.

That’s because after the hot chocolate I set about dealing with the freezer.

It took much longer than you might imagine to unpack the two new drawers. Whoever packed them certainly deserves a medal because they would never be likely to break in that box, with all the padding that was around them.

Then I had to switch off the freezer, unplug it and take out all the drawers. Luckily, I’d put ice packs in there and they, being frozen solid, would help keep the contents cold.

Then I could attack the freezer with the hair dryer that I’d liberated the other week.

That took much longer too. I was surprised at just how much ice there was in there. And what didn’t help was that having put a towel at the front to catch the water that melts, the water actually drains out of the back.

For the time that it took, I was on my feet for several hours and hence the issue with my knees. But it was worth it because the freezer is now totally defrosted, the new drawers are in and filled, and you’d be surprised at how much room there is in there now.

At lunchtime I’d taken out some pizza dough from the freezer and that had been defrosting. When I finished with the freezer I rolled out the dough and later, assembled the pizza.

With no small tomatoes I had to use large ones sliced thinly. Nevertheless it took much longer to bake. However it was delicious all the same. Now I’m going to have a quick tidy-up of the packaging and then go to bed. It’s dialysis tomorrow.

But talking about the Last of the Mohicans … "well, one of us is" – ed … reminds me of Hawkeye and Chingachgook on their way to Fort Ticonderoga
After separating for a few days Hawkeye comes across Chingackgook with his ear to the ground.
"What is it, Chingachgook?" asks Hawkeye
"Stagecoach. French stagecoach" says Chingachgook. "Eight horses, two drivers, twelve passengers, five women, seven men. One driver, he have wart on side of face. Other driver, he have patch over left eye. "
"That’s astonishing" said Hawkeye. "You can tell all that by just lying there with your ear to the ground?"
"Oh no" replied Chingachgook. "Me standing here having little pause, and damn stagecoach ran me down"

Saturday 23rd November 2024 – THIS IS GOING …

… beyond a joke now.

Is it four times now (counting today) that I have really been in agony for the entire session of dialysis?

If it carries on being like this I’m going to have to abandon the sessions because I can’t put up with it any more. You’ve no idea the amount of pain that I’m suffering when they stick these hollow pins into my skin in an attempt to find the tube that they installed in my arm.

Call me “chicken” if you like, but I just can’t keep on doing it.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … err … apartment last night I had another loiter around before going to bed, hence it was another night that was much later than it ought to have been. But as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … just recently it no longer matters.

Once in bed though I was asleep quite quickly and there were no thunderstorms or phantom people coming into my room to awaken me, However, read on.

When the alarm finally did go off for real I was in discussion with a friend in Gatineau, Canada. He’d sent a long list of questions to me so I sent him a long lengthy reply. He wrote back to say “thank you, Eric. Thank you for appreciating the fact that I’m not dead yet”.

He’s the kind-of guy, the gung-ho full-on adventurer type whom I met in the High Arctic, that will take a lot more than anything that this World could ever throw at him to finish off.

In the bathroom I gave myself a good wash and then washed the clothes – undies, socks, t-shirt and shorts. It’s quite a collection that needs washing by hand on a Saturday.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night, apart from to Gatineau of course. We were going down to meet the sisters of a couple of friends of mine – people whom I knew from work. On the way there one of the guys with me here noticed and said that “here, there’s a hundred years spread out between the work of our colleague and the work of her family. If it’s going to be shortened in any way it will be by virtue of her family and not by virtue of her friend”. Rather astonished, I asked “are you thinking that I’m trying to get rid of her friend, murder her or something like that?”. After a minute’s thought he said “well, maybe that, but supposing you had to investigate her – how would you go about it? Would you do it, for a start?”. I replied “I’ll remind you that we aren’t allowed to investigate our own colleagues. You have to tell Head Office and they’ll appoint someone else to do it from somewhere else. So the answer would be that I’d tell you to clear off”. We carried on walking towards this dance and arrived there just as it finished. There were two kids there giving demonstrations of some kind of art with their hands. There was some other kid doing something too. I thought “when everyone comes back from lunch we’ll see how good they are and see about joining them up with the festival from New Brunswick and see how they get along with that …fell asleep here …

That’s the kind of dream that completely bewilders me because there’s something of everything in it and nothing actually means anything at all. Being in work, going to New Brunswick, all of that together is confusing. It’s not surprise that I fell asleep in the middle of it.

I dreamed that I was awake and I’d been through the whole process of getting ready and everything for morning. It wasn’t until the usual time that the nurse came. She thanked me for being ready for her but told me that I need to concentrate more on doing up my shoes and a few other things like that so that I could get the most out of it. She noticed that there was a piece of something in my shopping bag and she told me that leaving it like that was a danger …fell asleep here …

This was a strange dream too. Falling asleep yet again, but being up and about in my dreams is exciting too. I wish that it would be that easy in the morning to be up and about like that.

That’s twice that I’ve dreamed that the alarm has gone off and I’ve left the bed ready for the day. The second time I was actually up, washed and dressed in me dream, not in real life though but that was how I was feeling. It certainly felt real enough for me, but once back in the bed I didn’t take much going to sleep at all which was a weird situation in which to be

So here I am, up and about again in a dream, and it’s impressive that I could remember in a dream what was going on in my subconscious previously when I talked about being up and about. I reckon that my nocturnal memory is better than my memory when I’m awake and I need to work on that.

Isabelle the Nurse had a better drive today, with all of the snow and ice having disappeared. She updated me on the disappearance of the town’s War Memorial and we also both had a good moan about the new mayor and his delusions of grandeur

After she left I made breakfast and read some more of my book, TRAVELS THROUGH THE STATES OF NORTH AMERICA.

Our author, Isaac Weld, having waxed lyrical about the prison in Philadelphia, is not so enamoured of the people whom he meets on the street. He tells us that "there is a want of good manners which excites the furprize of almoft every foreigner … In the United States, however, the lower clafTes of people will return rude and impertinent anfwers to queftions couched in the molt civil terms, and will infult a perfon that bears the appearance of a gentleman, on purpofe to fhew how much they confider themfelves upon an equality with him. Civility cannot be purchafed from them on any terms"

As for the accommodation, he is even less complimentary. "The accommodations at the ,taverns, by which name they call all inns, &c. are very indifferent in Philadelphia, as indeed they are, with a very few exceptions, throughout the country. It is feldom that a private parlour or drawing room can be procured at any of the taverns,". Having enquired of the landlord at one tavern about accommodation, he says that the landlord "feemed much furprized that any enquiries fhould be made on fuch a fubjec1, and with much confequence told me, I need not give myfelf any trouble about the extent of his accommodations, as he had no lefs than eleven beds in one of his rooms"

So I see that the USA hasn’t changed all that much in modern times.

Back in here I had a few things to do, including the writing of a couple of long e-mails but I was interrupted by a text message. The new drawers for the freezer have arrived in Granville and will be delivered “shortly”. Just you watch them turn up after I’ve gone.

At midday I went into the dining room and began my preparations for this afternoon. I don’t want to be caught out like the other day. However, no worries there. My cleaner came round and fitted my patches.

However the postie did turn up with this enormous box with my new drawers in it. That will be a nice job for tomorrow afternoon, dealing with all of that, de-icing the freezer and so on.

The taxi driver ‘phoned to give me five minutes notice of her arrival which was nice of her, so I made my way downstairs with the aid of my cleaner and as we arrived at the bottom, the taxi pulled up.

We stopped to pick up one more passenger and then headed off to Avranches. There’s still plenty of snow in the outlying areas. It’s not all melted yet although the roads are clear.

At Avranches I was the last to be seen and once more, the fitting of one of the pins was painful in the extreme. In the end they fitted the adapter to the pin that seemed to work so that the “in” and “out” would go through the one, but it was still agonising and neither I nor the nurses understand why.

While I was waiting I dozed off for just a minute, and had the sensation, or dream, that someone was plugging something into a plank of wood and the wood was smoking where the plug was going in.

There was a doctor on duty in the Clinic this afternoon. She saw all of the other patients and had a cheery word for every one, but she kept her distance from me. I don’t know what I’ve done to the people down there but I am definitely not Flavour of the Month with them for some reason.

Unplugging me was only marginally less painful and I was glad to leave and climb into the taxi. We had to wait for the second patient and once he was on board we could head off for Granville

There was a howling gale blowing back here and my brave cleaner was waiting for me, which I appreciated very much.

She took me on a guided tour of the new electricity cupboard, made sure that I knew where my master fuse switch was for both this apartment and my new one, and then watched as I climbed all twenty-five steps up to my front door.

Tea tonight was a breaded quorn fillet with baked potato and vegan salad followed by chocolate cake and strawberry dessert

So now I’ll dictate my radio notes to edit tomorrow and then go off to bed. It won’t be early in bed but at least there’s a lie-in until 08:00.

But talking about Isaac Weld and his accommodation issues … "well, one of us is" – ed …, on returning from his trip, he told his editor that "I stayed in this tavern in Philadelphia. It was horrible, and was appropriately called ‘The Fiddle’"
"Why was that?" asked the editor
"Because it certainly and unquestionably was a vile inn"

Friday 22nd November 2024 – AND THERE I WAS …

… dashing to make tea, wolfing it all down at a speed that’s more likely to give me indigestion than anything else, and then abandoning the washing up and dashing in here to watch the football tonight – Y Drenewydd v Connah’s Quay, only to find that the 86mm of rain that has fallen in mid-Wales in the last 24 hours has washed out the game

So after trying in vain to find another live match that was still being played, I went back to do the washing up

It’s a pity that Bonnyrigg Rose weren’t playing. After several seasons of playing their home matches at New Dundas Swamp, 86mm of rain falling on their pitch would have made quite an improvement and they would, quite literally, be at home on a pitch like that.

So it might be an early night for me once finish these notes, if I’m lucky. Not like last night where even though I finished my notes early I loitered around until it was actually quite late when I hit the sack.

And there I stayed until all of 06:00 or thereabouts when the loudest crack of thunder that I have ever heard in my life awoke me.

The storm raged for several minutes with some of the brightest flashes that lit up my bedroom despite the thick curtains. And the storm was so close overhead judging my the almost instantaneous thunder. Then it slowly moved away and we could go back to sleep

But not for long because the alarm went off at 07:00 and I had to leave my stinking pit in order to head to the bathroom for a wash and brush up

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I’d just taken delivery of a beige MkIV Cortina estate that had come from a scrapyard. The windscreen was missing and a few other bits and pieces. It was essentially acquired by me for its parts, to break it, so I’d had it in my drive. Later that night it turned out that it was not my drive at all but a public park somewhere. After I finished work I went over and began to have a look around it. First thing that I wanted to do was to find out its registration number but I thought that that would be difficult with its windscreen broken and tax disc gone. I eventually found a torn-up tax disc that gave the car as “M” reg, which is obviously incorrect. I had a play around with it and found that the radio still worked. After I’d switched off the radio I had my head all around it somewhere, and I heard a car pull up. I looked, and it was someone else. After a while he came into view, the driver, and walked towards where my couple of cars were. I didn’t say anything, I just watched him and stared – it was pitch-black. No-one could see anything, except that he had the light behind him so that I could see it. And staring at him would make him and his senses uncomfortable. Sure enough, after a minute or two he turned round and walked away. He obviously climbed back into his car because it drove off. I was there with this car, and I heard a door slam. I looked around, and sitting on a bench not too far away from me was a schoolboy from Sandbach School. He was feeling very happy, very pleased with himself. Then a few others came to join in. A boy and a girl began to disport themselves on the table. This other boy was teasing this boy and girl and so were one or two of the others. I asked them how much longer they had at school. They said “three weeks” with a big wide grin so I asked them if they were really looking forward to the end of it.

It was mainly MkIII Cortinas that I’d collect. When I had my taxi business people would offer me MoT failures if I would take them away, so I’d take them up to my yard and dismantle them. Sometimes I’d find that with a little welding I could make them better than a car that I was actually using and a couple had a new lease of life, mostly officially, but unofficially, well …

Have you ever done that, by the way? Stared at someone really hard from a distance away? And suddenly then turn round and look in your direction? We used to do that a lot back in the mid-70s when I had that flat on Nantwich Road. We were convinced that people still retained an element of the sixth sense that kept their forebears alive in the time of the sabre-toothed tiger and the other wild beasts of the distant past. It’s a sense that people should work at and develop. No worries with Nerina though. Her sixth sense was very well-developed and worked well on several occasions. I wonder if she ever made good use of it.

But schoolkids fooling around? I used to get on well with schoolkids at one time but these days I don’t see anyone at all, never mind schoolkids, and that’s a shame. I think that kids have a very raw deal from adults and I have a lot of sympathy for them.

Later on I was out with the Inuit again last night. There was a big tribe of them, probably fifty or something of people of all ages. When some white guy came by to study them for a thesis he tried to teach them to all go into a huddle. When he did, there was someone missing, a young girl of about fifteen. We couldn’t find her at all so we had to start again, the count, to verify it. It still ended up as one person short. Then a couple of the Inuit began to discuss the merits of eating human flesh. The meal that they described was quite revolting but I could see that several people were interested in the menu so I promised that if we were going to perform this again I would leave out any reference to humans, their age etc in the hope that they too don’t become dragged off down this road of cannibalism.

Revolting? Like some of Samuel Hearne’s meals when he was out on his travels?

One of my eternal gripes, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, is the number of students who have gone to live amongst the Inuit, the Métisse and other groups, to study their habits and lifestyle as one would study goldfish in a bowl, write their thesis identifying various shortcomings in the dealings of the Canadian Government with those people, proudly receive their PhDs and then go to work in a bank and totally forget the factors raised in their thesis. It strikes me that they believe in all earnestness that the shortcomings are designed specifically for them to study, not to resolve. At what point are the First-Nation people and the Métisse going to be fed up of these interlopers?

Back in the past I remember reading something about the members of Military Intelligence going to the PoW cages of the elite at the end of World War II in order to interview some of the German experts. The writer said something along the lines of that it felt as if he was in a superior fish restaurant, going up to the lobsters in the tank, pointing to a lobster and saying “I’ll have that one, please”. And that’s the impression that I have of these PhD students

And then we were all in the army doing our military service and our period of engagement was drawing to a close. We’d had a whole series of boring lectures. We’d probably had enough so we were larking around making poor use of the time that we had when my friend from Germany appeared. He joined in the general fun and frivolities as we found humour in everything. We were talking about the Wild West and a border dispute between two States where here was a State claiming tolls for crossing a border into another State although the border wasn’t actually there. Some boy had been organising a campaign to refuse to pay it. It had gone one for quite a while. We were joking about the border and the situation about Dodge City came up. We were describing the place with hilarity, the place where every time that a tourist pus his sooty foot in the place, some cowboy is shot by some kind of Indian who pops up on a roof somewhere and they all give a good performance of dying etc, just to take some money off the tourist. My friend turned round to everyone and said “right, we’re going to have a lecture on the Intruder bomber. That’s your very last lecture of your period of service of engagement” so we all finished laughing and joking and gathered round.

No danger of ever catching me anywhere near the Military. Had there been a War during the period when I was eligible to serve, I would have joined the Merchant Marine. "Hello, sailor!" indeed!

By now, dawn was slowly starting to break so I went to have a look out of the window to see what the weather had been doing. And as I expected, we’ve had a sudden snowfall over the past couple of hours.

The entry to the Square here looks really nice at the best of times, with the city walls in the background and the Eglise de Notre Dame de Cap Lihou in the distance. But in this snowy weather it looks even better. The snow gives it quite a nice touch.

It’s no surprise that I want to stay here rather than go anywhere else because this really is a nice building and it’s in a lovely situation, stuck between the city walls and the clifftop with the sea just 25 metres away

On the left we have the Foyer des Jeunes Travailleurs – the French equivalent of the YMCA where youths can find a tiny box-room to call home – and straight ahead we have the annexe to the Municipal offices. That’s where marriages take place.

There has been quite a bit of snow there too that has fallen just now. I know that it’s nothing compared with what we had in the Auvergne when half a metre would fall in a couple of hours or to what people on Germany and Austria experience every year, but with snow being so rare here, this is enough to bring North-Western France to a standstill

The nurse came along, later than usual, to tell me about the chaos and the slipping and sliding of everyone on the roads this morning. She couldn’t hang around because she had other people to see so she was soon gone

After she left I made a breakfast and began my next book. It’s a story written by someone about his travels in North America in 1795.

Why it’s interesting to me is that he goes at some point in his journey to “Upper Canada” and “Lower Canada” and I reckon that he will almost inevitably travel on the “Chemin du Roy” – the first road to be built in Nouvelle France that linked Montréal and Québec.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I WROTE AN ARTICLE a few years ago about the Chemin du Roy and I’m ready to update it with stuff that I’ve accumulated since those days. Wouldn’t it be nice to include some eye-witness reports of what the road was like from a traveller’s point of view?

So hopefully our hero will at some point find himself in a diligence, or “stage-coach”, flying along the road of Lanouillier and Bécancourt and give me some good information

Back in here I’ve spent most of the day writing notes for the next radio programme and now that’s complete and ready to be dictated. This one wasn’t anything interesting which is a shame because I’ve been enjoying doing these last few “special interest” programmes and can’t wait to do some more.

There were the usual interruptions. Lunch was one of them of course – a cheese and lettuce butty followed by some fruit.

And then my cleaner arrived to do her stuff. We changed the table around and put all the medication in one of the drawers now that they are accessible, instead of having medication scattered about on top of the table looking untidy.

We also had a break for hot chocolate. I really like that, so it’s become something of an enjoyable habit. I could do with a few more like that to cheer me up because, let’s face it, I could do with cheering up.

Tea was sausage, chips and baked beans with cheese. And to liven them up I put some hot chili powder in there. That should get them going, I reckon.

After the chocolate cake and strawberry soya dessert (there was another pot in the fridge) I dashed in here, only to have my hopes dashed.

So what I’ll do is go to bed and hope that I have pleasant dreams and that the thunder doesn’t awaken me.

This afternoon I had a brief chat with Rosemary and I mentioned the storm.

"Did it shake you out of bed?" she asked.

"No" I replied. "I hung on to the rails in the headboard."

And that reminded me of the little girl who came running downstairs and said to her mother "mummy! Mummy! The au-pair is dying!"
"What do you mean, dear?" asked her mother
"Well, mummy" said the girl "she’s lying on the bed gripping the rails in the headboard and going ‘oh God! Oh God! I’m coming!’"
"Is she really?" asked her mother, rather alarmed
"Yes mummy" replied the girl "and she would be too, except that daddy is on top of her holding her down!"

Thursday 21st November 2024 – HOW LONG IS IT …

… since we’ve featured any photos on these pages?

And how long is it since we’ve featured a photo with snow in it?

And what I mean is “real snow”? And while these photos may not be so impressive, I wasn’t the one who was driving so I couldn’t photograph just anywhere, otherwise you would have had photos much more exciting than these to look at.

Anyway, for the coast of Western Normandy, even this amount of snow is impressive and enough to bring the whole region to a shuddering halt. For November, it’s totally unprecedented. But our taxis ploughed valiantly onwards so that I could see what was going on.

So while you admire a few photos of yet more snow that we encountered, I’ll say some more about my day today.

Starting of course with last night. Although not in bed early, it was before midnight when I finally crawled into my stinking pit after finishing off everything that needed doing.

And once in bed, there I stayed for the rest of the night, thinking that I can’t have moved a single muscle during the whole of the night, optimism that turned out to be misplaced as it happened, but I certainly can’t remember anything about it

When the alarm went off I arose from the Dead, just about, and had a very slow walk into the bathroom. But not before switching on the rest of the heating in here, because I noticed that the outside temperature was 0°C – freezing point.

While I was washing I noticed that not only had I lost the protective netting over my arm, one of the two plasters had disappeared too. I wonder where that had gone. It’s a good job that my arm hadn’t bled any during the night.

Back in here I found the missing objects. They were in the bed . I must have moved about quite a lot in order for them to to have come off my arm. I would have expected to have known about it, anyway. But I wonder what I must have been doing for that to happen.

First thing that I did afterwards was to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

There was something in a dream about going to to war and colonising some particular area, how it was very important to wear your uniform exactly as it had been supplied and wear it exactly where it fitted properly and where it was supposed to be rather than where if felt more comfortable on your body because if you had it somewhere where it wasn’t supposed to be it would sweat and make life really uncomfortable for you but that’s all really that I can remember of that.

I stepped back into that dream too and when the alarm went off I was having a lengthy discussion with someone about something or other but the alarm going off totally disrupted my whole train of thought which is a shame. I would have loved to have found out where this dream would have led me.

So with nothing of any real significance, except, maybe that I managed to step back into a dream that was 76 minutes previously, which is a good memory for the subconscious, I waited for Isabelle the Nurse.

When she arrived she told me about the freezing conditions, the fact that it had begun to snow, the excitement on the streets and the general chaos in the town as everyone struggled to come to terms with the snow. If the temperature drops a few more degrees the département will be paralysed.

After she left I made breakfast and read my book. I’ve finally some to the end of Samuel Hearne’s adventures which is a shame because not only did I gain much from reading them, his glossary of fauna and flora at the back in even more interesting.

If only John Hornby had read them.

John Hornby, or “Jack Hornby” to the few friends that he had, was the son of the famous rugby player and cricketer who lived in Nantwich and is buried in Acton Churchyard near my aunt. He went out to Canada on several occasions to explore the Wilderness and the Barren Grounds. However in 1927 he and two companions starved to death on the Thelon River in the Barren Grounds.

They had gone to follow the trails of the migrating animals and to live off the animals that they captured.

Hearne makes the point that even some of the First-Nations people who have lived amongst the migrating animals for generations have starved to death. He says in his book "in some years, hundreds of deer may easily be killed within a mile of York Fort; and in others, there is not one to be seen within twenty or thirty miles. One day thousands and tens of thousands of geese are seen, but the next they all raise flight, and go to the North to breed.".

He concludes his notes with "I am persuaded that whoever relies much on the produce of the different seasons, will frequently be deceived, and occasionally expose himself and men to great want." – advice that Hornby would have done well to heed.

However, had Hornby taken a copy of Hearne’s book with him, he would also have had a great many hints on how to obtain an enormous amount of food out on the Barren Grounds. Some of it would have been unpalatable to European tastes but it’s better than starving to death.

After breakfast I came back in here where I paired off the music that I’d chosen yesterday for another radio programme, and then segued the pairs together. However I was taken by surprise by the taxi driver.

The new rules and regulations come into force today apparently and now if there are journeys to and from the same area within a 10 km radius of pick-up and drop off, the taxi proprietor is obliged to combine them as long as they do not result in a delay of more than 45 minutes. The taxi company had three trips – two others and me – that fell in this category so we all had to pile in together

Half an hour early, and not being anything like ready, I told the driver to go to pick up someone else and come back. I sent a frantic message to my cleaner who dashed here to fit my anaesthetic patches and help me dress and pack, and then we made it downstairs into the wind and snow to await the driver.

When she returned I piled in and we went off to the hospital to pick up our third passenger and then we had a drive through the tempest and blizzard to Avranches.

In case anyone is wondering, I’m not complaining about these new arrangements. I’m having for free something that is available in no other country in the World, as far as I am aware. Free and for nothing. I’m grateful that it exists and I would do anything to keep it and prevent any abuse.

However I might have thought differently when they came to plug me in. The anaesthetic hadn’t had time to work and I knew all about them plugging me in, as I suspect does everyone else in the neighbourhood now.

And then I had another one of these cataleptic fits that I have every now and again

Once I recovered I read my Welsh again and then read some of the reports of the crew of the Sieur de Roberval who was chasing after Cartier on his third voyage. However I was interrupted by a nurse who brought me an appointment with an ophthalmologist and a doctor who brought me a prescription for a pedicure.

But an eye test? Which nurse did I call “beautiful”?

And I’m admiring the precision of Roberval’s pilot who is giving his measurements clearly, even if they are in leagues. A league could be anything back in those days – there was no fixed measurement – but as I can now identify some of the points between which he works out his distances I’ll be able to work out what was Roberval’s idea of a league

When they unplugged me I headed out for the taxi and it was the same driver who brought me down. We had a little chat on the way back in the snow, and slid the car a couple of times on the ice, once into the kerb.

My faithful cleaner was waiting for me and watched once more as I climbed up all of the steps unaided. I really must keep this up.

Tea tonight was something out of a tin. I wasn’t feeling too adventurous. I’ve had a hard day and I’m going to bed for a good rest (I hope).

But all of this snow in Western Normandy? What do you make of that? It’s not like the Auvergne (which has had a shed-load over this last 24 hours and is currently without power) or Canada but it’s still impressive.
But still not as impressive as what went on with radio station KHAR in Alaska in the early 1970s with the newsreader reading out details of the daily snowfall in various cities – "and Helena got six inches during the night" and then hastily explaining himself " . . . Helena, Montana, that is"

EPIC HALL

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

Category Archives: France

Thursday 5th December 2024 – “THERE SEEMS TO BE …

Wednesday 4th December 2024 – I HAD ANOTHER …

Tuesday 3rd December 2024 – IT’S ALL STARTING …

Monday 2nd December 2024 – I HAVE SEEN …

Sunday 1st December 2024 – MY CAULIFLOWER STALK …

Saturday 30th November 2024 – ANOTHER PAINFUL SESSION …

29th November 2024 – I HAVE BEEN …

Thursday 28th November 2024 – I AM GOING …

Wednesday 27th November 2024 – I’VE DONE IT AGAIN.

Tuesday 26th November 2024 – HOW LONG IS IT …

Monday 25th November 2024 – I AM STILL IN …

Sunday 24th November 2024 – RIGHT NOW I’M IN …

Saturday 23rd November 2024 – THIS IS GOING …

Friday 22nd November 2024 – AND THERE I WAS …

Thursday 21st November 2024 – HOW LONG IS IT …

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