Category Archives: France

Thursday 8th August 2024 – I’VE NO IDEA …

… why but I’m absolutely whacked this afternoon. Anyone would think that I haven’t slept for a month

At least, that’s what it feels like. It’s not true of course because I managed a couple of hours last night where I was away with the fairies

Just a couple of hours mind you. I had another late night. Before going to bed I stumbled across the report with a difference of a football match in Scotland.

There’s a guy who goes around all the Scottish and Irish football grounds and broadcasts commentaries from within the huddled masses on the terraces, giving marks out of ten for the quality of the meat pies and the public conveniences as well. A proper football report.

For a while now I’ve been following his exploits because he’s doing exactly what I would have done, and have done too in better times, and I can enjoy vicariously the excitement of being swept up in a passionate crowd.

Last night I caught him at Palmerston Park, Dumfries for Queen of the South v Arbroath so I stayed up to watch the kippers be well and truly smoked by the home team.

It’s years since I’ve stood on the terraces there at Palmerston Park. 1977 or 1978 if I remember correctly. The height of the “troubles” and I was the only one who would take a British-registered van to Northern Ireland (where I was once arrested by an Army patrol, but that’s another story).

And on the way back once, seeing the crowds swarming across the river, I followed them.

It was on one of those trips that I had that classic encounter that I’m sure that I’ve mentioned before – the young girl from school who was serving in that pub at Galgate where I stopped for a pint on the way home.

One thing led to another and a few weeks later I’d lured her back to my lair and my old black cat Tuppence, the most anti-social cat you can imagine (like her owner), went and sat on her knee.

"Even my cat likes her!" I thought to myself, and invited her back to my lair for another encounter

"Yes, but you’ll have to get rid of that cat! I hate cats!" she said.

Of course it goes without saying that I kept my cat for another twelve or so years. She knew what she was doing – driving away all the competition for my affection.

Of course, with Nerina she didn’t stand a chance. Nerina loved cats and as soon as she came into my house it was "ohhh! A cat!" and she had Tuppence in her arms before Tuppence had time to think.

Yes, I had so much affection from my cats that the first thing that I’ll do when I’m downstairs is to have a female cat come to live with me.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment I went to bed late last night after the football and was awoken again at some silly hour of the morning and I’ve no idea why.

Nevertheless I stayed in bed until the alarm went off and then I had a very unsteady lurch into the bathroom to sort myself out.

Given the rather difficult night, I wasn’t surprised – just disappointed – to find that there was nothing from the night on the dictaphone. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … the only excitement that I seem to have these days is whatever goes on during the night.

The nurse was in chat mode this morning and we had a good discussion about my neighbour, who apparently is destined for a Home near Bayeux. It did make me wonder where they would send me if I had to go into a Home. Presumably one where the jackets do up at the back.

After she left I had breakfast and carried on reading my book about Montana at the turn of the Twentieth Century. We’re reading about the trip “Judge Woody” made to arrive in the Territory and I suppose that tomorrow we’ll find out more about the early days of Law Enforcement and Justice.

It was another slow start to the morning, and then once I started work I was busy.

First task is to go through another batch of concerts and try to date them. There’s a wiki on line called SETLIST where people who have been to concerts publish the setlist that was played. By comparing that with the setlist performed in the concert that I have, I can match them up.

However, not every setlist is published and of those that are, I’m convinced that one or two are wrong.

Having dealt with a batch of those, I then attacked the special project on which I’m working for the radio. I gave that a couple of hours of my time.

There was more that I could have done but regrettably, I was away with the fairies for a couple of hours late this afternoon.

Well-away too. I felt dreadful when I awoke and I have to do better than this

My cleaner came round to drop off more medication and we had an interesting chat for half an hour about kitchens and buying and selling apartments. But no news about she downstairs in my apartment.

Tea tonight was the last slice of lasagne with veg and vegan cheese sauce – only really to make more room in the freezer because tomorrow I have an order that I want to sent to LeClerc and I need the space.

So having done that I’ll unwind a little before going to bed and hope that nothing comes along to deflect me from an early night

But on-line shopping. There’s an interesting phenomenon. I was once talking to my friend Josée in Montréal. I told her that shipping in North American was really borjing
"Why is that?" she asked
"Well" I replied. "In North America, when you’ve seen one bunch of shops you’ve seen a mall"

Wednesday 7th August 2024 – HAVING TALKED LAST …

… night about Liz, it was quite apposite that Liz should be sending me messages this morning, as I found after finishing my toilet

And so we had a nice little chat, which is always very pleasant. I do like talking to my friends.

And that reminds me – one or two people just recently have asked me for my Whatsapp details so they too can have a nice little chat with me.

So if you don’t have my details, send me a message, using the “contact Me” link at the bottom of the page to the right, to ask me for them. I need to enlarge the circle of my friends, as Jeremy Thorpe once said to Norman Scott.

But not at 23:00 or thereabouts, unless it’s an emergency. I’m trying desperately to be in bed by 23:00 and failing miserably. And not for the want of trying. And believe me, I am very trying, as many people will testify.

Last night was a dismal failure, as you might expect. By the time that I’d sorted out my puttees and washed my trousers it was much nearer midnight than 23:00 when I finally hit the hay.

And once again, I didn’t have much sleep. Although awakening at 06:15 is a much better proposition than 02:15 or whenever it was last night.

When the alarm went off I staggered into the bathroom for a good wash and some clean clothes, and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night and, more importantly, who had come with me. I was with a friend on our way to Chester. Somehow we lost our way in all the houses round by Upton on the big estate there. We were making our way slowly towards the town but didn’t seem to be making any progress. I kept on thinking about where I might be. This was confirmed a minute or two later by seeing a sign so I knew that we were in the right direction but actually making much progress was rather dubious. It was quite late at night and we had things to do. As we rounded a roundabout – by now we were on foot – we fell in with an old lady. She was wondering what we were doing out at this ridiculous time of morning so she began to interrogate us. There was me, my friend, Zero’s parents and a fifth person whom I can’t remember but it certainly wasn’t Zero. And how could it not be Zero if her parents were there? That’s the worst part of dreams like this. The old lady asked if we were all locals so we said “no”. She asked where we were from so I explained. She asked what we were doing. We let this carry on for ages with her chiselling out tiny little facts each time. We were spinning this out for ever. In the end we turned up at a house that was being renovated. It was actually one of ours although it wasn’t why we were here. We came to this house and began to settle down in it ready to do some work. That confused her, but it also confused us. We’d been talking about the taxis and how we’d been getting on. Did I look after the cars? Why did I choose the cars that I did? etc. I had the feeling that for the whole night I was being interrogated about a whole section of my life. Again I was just giving the bare minimum possible answer to the question and letting whoever it was – it might have been my friend or it might have been Zero’s father – chisel the information out stone by stone. What we were going to do in Chester I really can’t remember now but it involved parking up in that little street at the back of Frodsham Street between Frodsham Street and the city walls. Why that would be the case I don’t know.

But I’m impressed that I can remember the obscure geography of Chester. It’s 50 years since I lived there and although it was one of the happier moments of my life I never ever went back to live there. It was a beautiful city with a lot going on and some really nice people

Later on I was talking to another friend on the phone about a Scottish football game. I was sounding all enthusiastic about going. It was some kind of important game taking place I think at the Hamilton Stadium. In the end Terry asked me “is there plenty of parking there?” because he might come and bring the kids. I was just on the point of explaining that there was a lot of parking in Hamilton Town Centre when the alarm went off and awoke me so Terry now will never know.

Strangely, during the evening yesterday I was watching last season’s Scottish Amateur Cup Final played between St Patrick’s and Castlemilk, which took place at Hamilton’s football ground.

Liz and I were chatting on line while all of this was going on. A couple of us have a little project on the go and we’re trying to find a convenient time for all of us to be available to have a group chat. But if we all keep on collecting appointments like we seem to be doing, it’s probably going to take place at 03:00 one morning some day whenever.

The nurse came round this morning as usual, and seemed to have more time to spare today, so she was in “chat” mode. She’s doing her best to raise my spirits at the moment because she can tell that I’m flagging.

Not that it’s anything to worry about. It’s just that this relentless cycle of visits from the nurse, and trips to the hospital and all this huge pile of medication – the combined total of everything is depressing me

And as Sam and Bilbo said to each other in Lord of the Rings
"Have you thought of an ending?"
"Yes, several, and all are dark and unpleasant.”"

She went through the supplies to make a list of what she needed and then after she left I had a breakfast and carried on reading my book about Montana at the turn of the 20th Century.

We’ve reached a very interesting passage about the construction of the “Milwaukie Road” railway through the Rockies and the construction of the St Paul Pass Tunnel.

He told some exciting stories about the town of Taft – a railway town situate at one end of the tunnel. Apparently in the first census of the town the chief occupation was “railroad worker” and the second most popular occupation was “prostitute”.

And when all of the snow melted that first winter that the town was there, they discovered 17 dead bodies.

Yes, the West really was Wild in those days. And all these little anecdotes are in danger of being lost to posterity because no-one is reading these books any more.

After breakfast I had a leisurely start to the day and once I’d come round into the Land of the Living I started on the notes for the radio programme that I started yesterday.

Having fought, sometimes unsuccessfully, wave after wave of fatigue, they are now all written and ready for dictation whenever I can find a moment – presumably on Saturday night.

So starting tomorrow I’ll finish off this little radio project that I have in mind for the start of the year. There are all kinds of people who have contributed so much to the history of rock music despite being totally unaware of the fact and one of the most important needs to be honoured.

In the middle of it all my cleaner came round and we went through my medication to see what I needed, and then I packed her off into town to fetch it.

But woe is me! Oh me miserum! as they would have said in Ancient Rome. My prescription, made out at the end of April, has now expired and I’ve had no news about going to hospital in Paris where it will be renewed.

Consequently I had to write a letter to my doctor to ask him to write a fresh one and hope that he will. That will probably mean yet another visit but it can’t be helped.

Tea tonight was a leftover curry with naan bread, and delicious it was too. I ought to have more of that, but I don’t have the leftovers to go with it.

So now I’m off to bed ready to Fight The Good Fight tomorrow. More of the same, I imagine.

But before I go, talking in Latin reminded me of that American Senator how advertised "wanted – Latin teacher. Native speaker preferred!"
Suppressing their laughter, his colleagues asked him why he wanted one
"I’m being posted to Bolivia" he replied. "They say that that’s in Latin America and I want to be able to speak with the locals"

Tuesday 6th August 2024 – ABOUT TEN YEARS AGO …

… I was wandering around Fredericton in New Brunswick when I came across a sign that said something like “on this spot in August 1894 nothing happened”.

And I remember another film that I once saw that included the line “in this village in 1853 a tree fell down, and the locals have talked about nothing else ever since”.

That’s exactly the kind of day that I’ve had today

It was another late night when I went to bed after everything that I had to do, and I was asleep even quicker than usual, which is one thing, I suppose.

But going to sleep earlier means that I awaken even earlier, which is a problem in itself but when it’s 02:15 that’s just ridiculous. Luckily I managed to go back to sleep again fairly quickly but not for long.

And that’s how it went on for the rest of the night. All in all it was quite a depressing way to try to sleep.

When the alarm went off at 07:00 it was a struggle to get to my feet. The room and the bed were spinning around much more rapidly than they usually do first thing in the morning.

They tell me that that’s due to low blood pressure, and I ought to be monitoring it. Regular readers of this rubbish will however recall that earlier in the year I did, and I have a notebook full of readings to prove it. But no-one ever told me what to do with the readings, and how to raise my blood pressure to an acceptable level and so it seemed like a waste of time

However once I was on my feet I staggered off to the bathroom to sort myself out and to have a shave – otherwise my face would qualify me to play bass for ZZ Top

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And I was surprised by the amount of stuff on it. There was a big group of us who hung around together in the USA One was of course a nice girl. This girl and I became friendly, but not as friendly as I would have liked to be, which was a shame. She was being pursued by a guy who was a junior congressman but she wasn’t particularly sure why but she suspected that she might have made a good trophy wife and that was possibly maybe his interest in her. She wasn’t convinced that it was sincere and was just “politician’s bluff” and she tended to leave it. One day she, I, this politician and one or two of his friends were together. He engaged her in conversation and was busy chatting away with her. I could see that she was not enjoying the experience. I had a blackboard and some chalk so I was writing an account of what I was seeing, about this girl being chatted up by this junior congressman but she’s not happy in the least and he’s pushing things but wasting his time etc. While I was busy doing this I turned my back to them and carried on. The girl came to sit next to me and made one or two suggestions about the two of us going for lunch together, something like that. I was still writing this stuff about her and this congressman on the board then he turned up. He was most offended by what I was writing. He asked me if that was what I thought. I told him that it was so he asked if he was going to have some kind of grief from me. I told him that I didn’t understand what he means. It’s not my intention to resort to violence at any moment. What about anything else? He was pushing me then either to try to have some kind of response or try to goad me into making some kind of intemperate remark or doing some kind of intemperate reaction. I could see that unless I was very careful this whole situation was going to go South at a rather rapid rate of knots too quickly for me to be in any kind of control of it.

Here I go again, with a girl almost within my reach but not quite. And a situation rapidly escalating out of control through no fault of my own and there’s nothing that I can do about it. All of this has a very familiar ring.

Did I dictate the first half of this dream about this situation about people having to challenge about Health Insurance etc … "no you didn’t" – ed … but eventually the second part is that the get down and produce some videos showing escapers, getaways. I could see the one from my situation shown on this video so it looked as if the people concerned thought that they were getting away with it and evidently gave me a real incentive to fight even harder for justice. But as I say, although justice was eventually on my side, trying to have the Judge’s decision enforced was something far more complicated and is still awaiting implementation after all these years.

This sounds like a right load of gibberish but there’s an underlying truth in it, in that having Right, Justice and the Law on your side is all very well, but any decision that is made has to be enforced and the situation isn’t complete until enforcement is made. Any other interpretation of the situation is meaningless.

There had been some kind of museum display at a museum in Crewe. When we first arrived we couldn’t find out where we were going so we ended up going back home and borrowing a compass. Then we arrived again but the exhibit wasn’t going to be shown until the last hour so we all went back home again. At the end of the evening we all trooped off to the museum. The first thing that we did was to check the compass, how is it performing? Bang on! absolutely perfect! Once we had the museum hall in view we took a final check with the compass and sure enough it was exactly what we wanted. We walked into this building. As we approached the top of the steps someone began a conversation with one member of our party. He was telling us about Crewe Alexandra’s football match that afternoon. Their star defender had apparently scored an own goal, the second that he’s scored in as many weeks. He had a moan about it. One thing that I noticed was that this guy was blind so I turned to my friend and whispered to him “I suppose that his guide dog told him about the match” which did not go down very well but I thought that it was hilarious

So now I’m telling jokes – and good jokes too – in my sleep. I must admit that when I transcribed that little note I did have a good laugh. But it also underlines the fact that having a sense of humour is dying a death these days. Modern people won’t find it funny but I’m 50 years behind the times – a museum piece myself, if you like. I don’t belong in this modern World.

The nurse had a good moan at me this morning. I must have bled at some point because one of my trouser legs has a load of blood on the inside. She told me off and ordered me to wash them. It’s called “laying down the law” and I have to obey. She didn’t tell me what the “or else” meant.

After she left I had a leisurely breakfast, reading my book on walks around Montana in 1911 and 1912 and you’ll be surprised how interesting it is. The author was discussing the signing of the peace treaty with the native Americans 20-odd years before and had quite a lot to say on the procedure, especially about on how many of the obligations of the Government that were subsequently overlooked.

And then after a slow start to the morning I made a start on the next radio programme.

Actually, not the next one. I’d leapt a few dates because there are three or four weeks that are going to be really complicated. So today I decided to bite the bullet and attack one of them.

For that, I needed a pile of music that I didn’t have and so I’ve been tracking down obscure music from obscure groups, downloading it, converting it to an acceptable format, choosing selected tracks, remixing them and then pairing them off.

And then if that’s not enough, making a good start on writing the notes. I’ve not gone very far with that, and I could have done better had I not gone away with the fairies at one point. I’m actually impressed that I managed two whole days, Sunday and Monday, without crashing out at all after the events of Saturday.

My cleaner stuck her head in and gave me the cheese she’d bought for me at LeClerc. But it seems that the vegan cheese slices have disappeared off the shelves. So what’s going on here then?

Tea tonight was a taco roll with rice and veg. It might be simple fare but it’s nice and tasty and that’s what counts.

So having written my notes I’ll wash my trousers to keep the nurse happy and then go to bed

But talking of museum pieces and the like, My friend Liz seems to think that it’s appropriate that I’ve bought an apartment in an Ancient Monument. "You’re actually something of an Ancient Monument yourself" she told me.
"You’re too kind, Liz" I told her ."What you really mean is that I’m an old ruin"

Monday 5th August 2024 – A WEEK ON WEDNESDAY ..

… that is, the 14th August, I’m being assessed for “assisted living”.

This is the long-awaited follow-up to my visit at the start of the year to the Centre de Re-education and the discussions I had with the various ergotherapists.

This is when then decide whether I need to go into a Home or whether I can continue to live here. And if the latter, what level of support will I need to assure my autonomy.

As it happens, although I have a tendency to moan a lot about my situation … "perish the thought" – ed … and things are slowly becoming more and more difficult, I’m confident that I’ll still be here for the foreseeable future.

Of course, a nice young aide menagère, or “domestic help” wouldn’t go amiss and I wouldn’t say “no” if one were offered to sooth my fevered brow, but knowing my luck, it wouldn’t be a nice nubile nymphet but a retired Bulgarian weightlifter

So we shall see how the future unfolds. But it’s nice to see that things are beginning to move rapidly. At this rate, there won’t be any time left at all in the month of August with all of these appointments and visits.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment, despite everything that I said last night, I ended up going to bed quite late yet again. I was waylaid by, would you believe, the West Asian Football Federation’s final in the women’s tournament between those two powerhouses of the female football world, errr … Jordan v Nepal

It actually went down to penalties, which was why it finished so late. And it was Jordan that took the honours.

Surprisingly, the game was much better than it ought to have been. Nepal had the better of the play, as it happened, but they struggled to match the speed of the Jordanians on a counter-attack.

So late to bed once more, I slept right through until the alarm went off, and then had a very shaky start to the morning as I struggled to come to terms with the speed at which the room and bed were spinning round.

Once in the bathroom I scrubbed myself up but left the spare set of puttees soaking until tonight. That will do them a world of good.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. This was one of these chaotic dreams about being in laboratory but there were bits and pieces everywhere that were either attached to me or falling to the ground or getting in my way. I couldn’t clear them out from in front of me at all. Everything that I touched seemed to be connected to me in some way or other, either physically or spiritually or something like that. I couldn’t have some kind of clear way walking around this laboratory. It was just like being in one of these fairgrounds where everything is attached to everything else and you have to somehow find your way to the end but there was no possibility of doing that last night, it was just so chaotic, all this stuff.

These chaotic dreams occur every now and again and I suppose that it’s really all a symptom of my chaotic life. And it’s nothing like as chaotic as it used to be either. I used to live in total chaos.

In fact, someone once asked me my day (a Wednesday) and time (03:00) of birth, and they produced from somewhere for my birthday one of these in-depth horoscopes.

It’s absolutely frightening as to how accurate it is. It talks about how I live in my own little world totally oblivious of the rest of the World and concludes with "your life and living arrangements seem to be total chaos but that bothers people around you far more than it ever bothers you"

And never were truer words ever spoken. Poor Nerina. She had a really difficult job on her hands and she deserves a medal for having stuck to it for almost nine years.

When the nurse came, we had an interesting chat about seagulls. There are several types of course but here in France we have two common species, mouettes and goëlands. She was using the words interchangeably so I asked her the difference.

She replied that she didn’t know, and set me a task, to prove that I am worthy. Namely, to find out the difference for tomorrow.

After she left I had a nice leisurely breakfast reading about the forced removal of the Flathead tribe of native Americans from their reservation to another reservation that they will share with the existing occupants so that their land could be sold – to the benefit of the American Government.

That kind of thing was pretty much commonplace in the USA in the 1880s and 1890s. If the native Americans refused to move, they were simply massacred, and I’ve walked across the site of the most outrageous massacre of native American civilians, at Wounded Knee in South Dakota in 1894, when I was there in 2019

Much of the day has been spent today working on the final lot of notes that I dictated on Saturday night. They are all done now, the two halves of the programme are assembled and the joining track has been chosen with its notes written ready for dictation.

And considering that the other day we were discussing Dave Arbus, it seems appropriate that the track that I chose was one by East of Eden.

First though, I had a listen to my programme about John Mayall. It’s actually quite good and I’m quite pleased with it. So I sent it off to Headquarters for inclusion in the stream for this weekend.

The rest of the day was spent tidying up the paperwork. I’m sure that it all grows when my back is turned. It doesn’t matter how many pieces I file away, I always find one piece somewhere that I’ve overlooked.

My cleaner stuck her head in the door to bring the post – including the letter about my visit. We had a chat about my neighbour too. We’re all wondering what is going on with her as we’ve had no news

Tea tonight was a stuffed pepper with pasta and veg. And delicious it was too. Plenty of stuffing left, so its taco roll tomorrow and a leftover curry on Wednesday. I’ll leave off the pie foe a while

So having washed my puttees now and hung them up to dry I’ve written my notes and I’m off to bed. Late again but it can’t be helped. It seems to be the current state of affairs.

But going back to the story of my apartment, Friedrich Nietzsche once famously wrote "You must carry a chaos inside you to give birth to a dancing star. Out of chaos comes order."
However, he died in 1900 – a long time before I was born. Had he been alivr during my lifetime he would have written something completely different.

Sunday 4th August 2024 – ♫ PANCAKE TUESDAY …♫

♫ … Eric’s busy baking♫

But leaving aside the question of whether or not it is a Tuesday today, Eric has been a very busy boy in the kitchen this afternoon.

We now have another loaf all ready and baked so that we can start the week tomorrow with fresh bread for our toast, and we have a monster flapjack cut into 12 slices that will keep the blaidd from the drws, as they say in Caernarfon, for the next few weeks

When I made my lunchtime sandwiches yesterday I noticed that I didn’t have much bread left so I made a mental note to myself that some baking wold be involved in the proceedings at some point today.

And I was not wrong. When I looked last night, I reckoned that there might be enough for toast and maybe for a sandwich at lunchtime but that would be it.

So I sorted myself out and put my puttees to soak in a bowl of soapy hot water, where they still are after 24 hours. If that doesn’t clean them to the nurse’s satisfaction then nothing will.

When I’d done that I rolled up the other pair and put them ready for the morning.

Before going to bed I dictated a pile of notes for the radio programmes ready to edit. I didn’t do too many because I could feel myself flagging as I was dictating, and making too many silly mistakes.

Nevertheless, it was still after midnight and I was letting it all hang out. I had hoped to be in bed a long time before this

And it was a miserable night too. I’m glad that I didn’t have to wake up until 08:00 today.

But when the alarm went off I was already awake. I’d been awake for a while. Dog-tired as I was when I went to bed, I’d gone off to sleep quite quickly but I’d woken up far too early.

After having a wash and a clean-up I came in here to listen to the dictaphone. And I was amazed at all the stuff on there. No wonder it had been a miserable night. I was going to make a pizza but I had the horrible realisation that I hadn’t taken the pizza dough out of the freezer at Sunday lunchtime. Then I suddenly realised that it’s still Saturday night and I’m still in bed so I don’t need to quite make the pizza as yet so I turned over and tried to go back to sleep again.

That was one of these “panic attack’ dreams that I have every so often. You have to admit – it’s not everyone who can make a pizza while he’s in bed asleep.

Then there was something about it being someone’s birthday and that seemed to affect a couple of rock groups and their music but I’m not quite sure how and I seemed to have forgotten part of the dream that included that but it generated onwards towards birthdays and cooking, people putting birthday recipes and birthday ideas for meals altogether. I was going to comment on a couple which I’d sorted out because they could be so easily changed to vegan but while writing out the notes I seem to have lost the thread completely. I started writing basically gibberish and in the end pressed “send” and sent it because I couldn’t think of what else I needed to say and sending anything at this stage is better than sending nothing. It was a really confused and miserable night last night with all kinds of activity and things going on with which I didn’t really get to grips.

It seems that I wasn’t just writing gibberish last night. I was speaking it too

I was at school and we had some project to do, to talk about our teachers. I was working away in a corner and another girl came to sit close to me so we ended up chatting while we were working. I’d picked as my subject one of the teachers who was married to another one. His wife was a former accountant and accounts manager. We were fantasising why the male prof didn’t like the idea too much of working on the internet. We came to the conclusion that it was because his wife didn’t let him because she was too busy doing other things with it, and why he was so late handing work back to us was because she would go through it with a fine toothcomb and being a teacher herself and an accountant she would absolutely have to find some fault with it. We were fantasising things about this that went on for ages. None of it was very complimentary and none of it was stuff that I could write down but it was still interesting. One of the teachers then came over to us with a big pile of notes. She said to the girl “I have your results here from the previous project. Would you like me to read them to you?” so the girl said “yes”. The teacher said “some of them are very confidential”, looking at me. The girl said “that’s all OK. I don’t mind Eric knowing anything of things like that”. “Yes, but one or two of them concern Eric”. I replied “don’t worry about making any comments about me. You might have comments to say for the first time but a lot of other people will have said them before this, I promise you”. It went on like this. This was another one of these nice warm comfortable dreams that I have some times and don’t have enough of and that I wish could go on for ever and ever

Yes, this is much more like the kind of dream that I want to have. I’ve had a few dreams, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, that focus on a girl and me at school back in our schooldays. And if only my schooldays had happened like this. All these girls hanging around me and I wish that I knew who they were and why they weren’t there when it mattered.

Later on I’m making my afternoon cocoa and I have it in the pan. I’m stirring away, talking about other things and thinking about loads of other things too while I’m doing it. I seem to be there for ages and ages and notice tat this chocolate now is starting to congeal. That can’t be right so I have a look and the gas has gone out in the little rechaud thing that I used for heating my chocolate and I’ve been standing there for the last I don’t know how long stirring it and it’s not made the slightest bit of difference. It’s just been going colder and colder and colder. Now I’m going to have to heat it up and wait for that to happen and it’s hot enough. I can see me being here with this all night.

And it wouldn’t be the first time that that’s happened, trying to cook a meal and the gas has been out for quite a while

I was in the European Union’s building in Brussels. It was time to go so I prepared to leave and picked up my briefcase, then picked up a long cane and began to push my briefcase along the floor in front of me. Quite a few people gave me some strange looks, some stranger than others including one woman who was extremely suspicious. When I reached the exit door at the interior of the building I picked it up and immediately went to open it. All the people dived for cover so I took out my laptop and packet of sandwiches. Before I had time to do anything again I was overwhelmed by security guards who insisted on demanding to know what I was doing. I told them to mind their own business and we had another stand-off in that … fell asleep here

Yes, over the years I had a few good stand-offs with the Security guards. They were totally lacking in an understanding of what was happening in the modern World. The period in which we were living was changing rapidly and dramatically, far too quickly for them.

I was back giving a girl advice on buying a computer for her studies. She could have a grant to enable her to buy a computer but she needed to know the specifications and so on. I explained to her the maximum specifications that the Open University would allow under this grant but I also explained to her that firstly they didn’t check and secondly, as long as she didn’t tell them any different they weren’t going to know about what her computer was so we had a little discussion along those lines while she was having a look through the sales pages to see whether she could find anything suitable.

When I was living in Brussels I lost count of the number of computers I built and repaired. That was another field that was changing dramatically and rapidly and I was lucky enough to be there during that little window where we had SX, DX and Pentium architecture and I could cope with that. However I was left behind rather rapidly at that point.

Did I dictate the dream where we were all back in France again and there was something going on and someone had to submit some kind of written document … "no you didn’t" – ed … so one of our group took it upon herself to do it, and then asked if we needed any amendments before she sent it off. The problem was that this document was a complete mess and needed a total rewrite and revision before we could send it. I’m no journeyman so I could have cleared it up but … fell asleep here … which is a shame because this sounds as if it might have been interesting.

We had a new wheelchair for a friend of mine. I assembled it but couldn’t tighten it up because two of the straps that we needed to bring the whole thing into tension once there was a weight on it were not supplied with the kit and we had to fetch those extra. I explained to my friend that she’s going to be a bit flopping around on this. She was concerned about her blood test – if the blood test that she goes to takes for ever, how’s she going to cope? I explained to her that there was nothing wrong with the actual comfort of the machine, it’s just one or two pieces missing but she didn’t seem to understand. In the end I sat her in the machine and had things arranged as they normally would be. We were there for an hour or something then I set them up as they would be when we had the straps in there. Everything seemed to be much better so I asked her if she was comfortable but again she didn’t reply. Once I pressed her, she kept on going on about her blood test. I’ve no idea what was happening with her there but she was being extremely un-cooperative about this new wheelchair.

Phew! After that I’m exhausted. It’s no surprise that I was feeling pretty tired

In the middle of sorting this out the nurse came and dealt with my legs. She had rather more time than usual so we had a little chat which was nice

But as a result it was rather a late breakfast but the coffee was nevertheless really nice.

Back in here I watched Stranraer stroll to a 2-0 lead quite comfortably and then throw it away in the final stages of the game. They should have been out of sight and down the road a long time before the end of the game, and Peterhead only had two shots on goal during the whole match …

Then I’ve been radioing. The notes for two additional tracks have been edited and the radio programmes have been assembled. They are complete and ready to go. And then the first of the two longer ones is all edited and assembled as far as I can. The final track has been chosen and remixed and the notes written ready for dictating.

Doing the final editing for the last one that I dictated is tomorrow’s task, if I choose to accept it

And then we had the baking. That was after my hot chocolate. I have a loaf, a flapjack and I also baked a pizza for tea and that really was delicious. Just as good as last weekend’s.

So now I’m off to bed for a nice early night, I hope.

But did you note the phrase “another stand-off”. It wouldn’t be the first one. I remember a memo that came round saying “Fonctionnaires are reminded that they cannot bring their children into the office” and there I was, wandering around the building with Roxanne.
"Haven’t you read the memo about children in the office?" roared a a Security guard
"Ohh yes, I read it" I replied
"So why have you brought her in? She’s not allowed"
"But the memo talks about … ‘bringing your child …’"
"That’s right" he shouted
"But she’s not my child" I explained.

Saturday 3rd August 2024 – SO WHERE DID …

… Saturday go?

As for me, I didn’t go anywhere. I spent most of the day on my chair here in the office and much of the time I was fast asleep. It was pretty much a repeat of last Saturday, and the Saturday before that.

It seems that this Saturday thing is becoming a habit, and I don’t understand why

It’s not as if I had a particularly late night last night. To my surprise, and probably yours too, I was in bed by 23:00. Not by much, it has to be said, but enough to make it worth celebrating.

And I was asleep quite quickly too. In fact I had hardly begun my little night-time mantra before I was off with the fairies

But a strange thing happened this morning. I heard the alarm go off so I switched it off and after a stretch and a yawn, I pitched myself up onto the side of the bed.

Usually, I wait for the second alarm to go off, by which time the room and bed have stopped spinning so I can get off. But today – no second alarm.

So after several very long minutes I went to check the phone to make sure that I’ve not switched it off by accident – and there it was, still switched on, and the time was 06:55, five minutes before the first alarm is due to go off.

And it did do off on time too. So what was it that had awoken me earlier? Now there’s a mystery if ever I saw one.

In the bathroom the first thing that I had to do was to wash my watch. I’m bleeding from the wrist right underneath where the watch sits and there’s blood all over the watch. I can see this being an endless process, waking up in the morning and wiping the blood from somewhere.

We can’t go on for much longer with all of these blood-thinning products. I can see serious problems ahead if ever I have a real injury.

Having had a good wash and remembering to wash my shorts this weekend, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I’d been for a walk around a seaside town with a friend of mine. We were appalled by the state of the beach. It was nothing but a huge rubbish dump and the smell of urine was overpowering from the water. We walked around for ten minutes and wondered how on earth the people living in the area could possibly put up with the stench that was driving me berserk. Then I set out for home. As I started for home I was overtaken by one of these Crosville Ford Transits that was heading into town. I was walking but found that I could keep pace with it. We walked all the way to Shavington with his bus just in front of me. It pulled into Shavington and went in round behind the Pony Express place at Sugarloaf Corner but I took the short cut across the front of the chip shop where I bought some chips for supper … fell asleep here … so there I was back home again with this Ford Transit bus again about 20 yards away. I wondered “what on earth was this doing? It’s travelled all the way from the top end of Crewe with no passengers on it at all to come into Shavington and then just sit here and do nothing

And I could really and honestly smell the stench of urine during this dream. It was overwhelming

Later on, I dictated One confusion was the number. It was 3230-whatever but I kept on saying the number wrong, getting the order like the numbers in the wrong place but eventually I managed to sort it out with a bit of confusion.

This obviously relates to something, but I really have no idea what. But as we know from past experience, I seem to be missing out on a lot of dreams that happen but I seem not to record. One of them was that famous dream a couple of months ago involving Castor, and we can’t not record dreams where she, Zero or TOTGA are involved. That would really be the end

The nurse didn’t take long to sort me out today. She was in and out in 10 minutes, her usual cheerful, bubbly self. She wants me to wash my puttees tonight and use the clean ones starting tomorrow, and showed me a few unhygienic marks on these. I wanted to tell her that that was her fault, not putting the plasters on the right places, but I reckon that it’s probably not a good idea to antagonise unnecessarily the person who puts the antiseptic and plasters on my wounds.

After she left I had breakfast and carried on reading my book about someone’s walks around Montana in 1910 and 1911.

While I’m reading, I have the internet running in the background and looking up all of the places that he visited and seeing just how many changes there have been in the 100-odd years since he wrote. It’s a fascinating study and, as I’ve said, so many of his observations and notes that he made from talking to the elderly settlers who had come there when the territory were first settled have failed to make it into modern historical reminiscence.

So much of this early pioneer history has been lost, and will be forgotten for ever as long as research today is just being conducted with the aid of Wikipedia and nothing else. I have a feeling that people are going to forget how to research.

It’s all very well people asking you “what did you learn at University?”. I leaned far, far more than just whatever there was on my course and, surprisingly, the place where I learned the most was in “OUSA Debate” and the other big Current Affairs chatroom whose name I have forgotten but will remember the moment I press “publish”.

In here I sat down to plan out my day, and the next thing that I remember, it was 12:43 and I had a splitting headache. I’d slept for about two hours, just like that. No recollection whatever of anything.

Falkirk’s match against Queen’s Park was on the internet so I watched the Bairns beat the Spiders and then made myself a sandwich.

Back in here after lunch I started to edit the notes that I’d dictated about John Mayall.

By the time that I’d finished this afternoon I’d assembled the programme and choosing the 11 tracks and the text from scratch I ended up 81 seconds over my hour.

However, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I always include in my notes a lot of filler so removing 81 seconds of it was time-consuming but not defeating.

Now I have a programme assembled that features many artists who played with him before he left to live in the USA and if all goes according to plan it will be broadcast next weekend.

Remember, you can hear me and my programmes at LE BOUQUET GRANVILLAIS on Friday and Saturday at 21:00 CET, 20:00 UK time and 15:00 Toronto time and there are podcasts recorded to hear later if you miss them.

The excitement was obviously far too much for me because I crashed out yet again and that was depressing. I need to be doing much better than this. I can’t keep on falling asleep.

But anyway I recovered just in time for tea – another one of my favourite breaded quorn fillets with baked potato and salad. The lettuce was looking rather sad but nevertheless I used what I had to. I just can’t seem to keep lettuce for any length of time.

So now that I’ve finished my notes I’m going to dictate the next batch of arrears, put my puttees in to soak and hope that I can make it back in here without knocking my legs and bleeding to death

But before I go, I have to say that I have been taken to task about some of the humour that exudes from these pages. Someone seems to think that they are becoming far too full of smut.
"Don’t you know what good clean fun is?" wailed one contributor.
Well of course I don’t so I e-mailed her back. "You tell me. What good is it?"

Friday 2nd August 2024 – I’VE HAD A COUPLE …

… of lovely chats on the internet this afternoon.

The first was with one of my neighbours, the President of the Residents’ Committee who was so helpful when it came to buying the apartment downstairs

And the second was with a close fried who lives in Newport. He was actually best man at my wedding and we still keep in touch.

However last night, I wasn’t anywhere like in touch with my ideal night-time curfew of 23:00. It was actually after midnight before I finally hit the sack, running as late as I was. The list of things that I have to do before going to bed seems to have grown longer and longer.

But once I was in bed, I didn’t reach all that far into my little mantra before I fell asleep. That’s one good thing – that I’m asleep quite quickly whereas in the olden days I’d be tossing and turning for hours.

There were no stone cutter, no diggers, no nothing going on outside this morning so I slept all the way through until about … errr …. 06:15 when something must have awoken me. And I lay there semi-comatose until the alarm went off at 07:00.

In the bathroom I had a good scrub up and sorted out some clean clothes. Who knows? I might get to see Emilie the Cute Consultant at the Clinic so I have to look my best.

With clean clothes, it meant that I could give my undies and trousers a scrub in the sink. These days I wear these shell-suit trousers all the time because they wash and dry in no time, which is good news seeing how filthy I can be.

Next step was to listen to the dictaphone to find out what I was doing during the night. I was in Shavington going to catch the bus to Nantwich and for some reason or other decided to walk up to the bus stop at the Elephant and Castle. I set out to walk and on my way I noticed in the distance the Farmer’s Daughter who has figured on these pages once or twice but she had short hair and that suited her head really well. She walked off somewhere and I was debating whether to go to follow her to see where she was going and to see whether I could summon up some kind of excuse to have a good chat. I walked up to where the Elephant and Castle is and put my hand out to turn right even though I was walking on foot. A couple of kids on the pavement, tiny kids who were presumably going to catch the bus to school saw me and waited on the edge of the pavement until I went past. There on the right hand side was an Austin Cambridge but it was “A” registration as in 1983 or 1984 but they stopped making Cambridges in 1967 and any vehicle that was subsequently registered would have had an age-related plate fitted to it, so why was this one carrying the plate of such a recent date. That was a complete mystery that needed to be resolved.

Yes, well I’ll tell you something for nothing and that I would not have been convinced if she wanted to cut her hair. I’m afraid that I’m quite the male chauvinist when it comes to girls’ hair. I think that long hair on girls is absolutely beautiful and it’s a cardinal sin for a girl to set out to disfigure that which nature has blessed her. But I’m impressed that I can remember banal details about car registration numbers and years of manufacture while I’m asleep.

As for The Farmer’s Daughter, there hangs a long tale that might be one of the many recounted at my funeral.

The taxi came bang on time which was nice and another passenger already in there graciously yielded up the front seat – it’s much easier for me to pop in and out of the front.

We set off for Avranches and first had to drop off the other passenger at the hospital, and then take me to the clinic across the road and up the hill.

This is a brand-new building and it does look impressive, although it beats me why they couldn’t have built it onto the existing hospital.

The nurse is there is one who has seen me before and she remembered me, which is rather sad going, I suppose. Once seen …

She asked me a load of questions about my current symptoms, and either she’s excellent at prognostication, the symptoms from which I’m suffering are well-known, she’s a regular reader of this rubbish or else she’s in league with the Devil.

It was interesting when she asked me things like "when you go to sleep in the afternoon, is it a sudden, dramatic sleep with no warning and no realisation that you’ve been asleep?"

You can say that again.

She weighed me again. And having been down past Target Weight 01 and close to Target Weight 02, my current weight is depressing to say the least.

She took off all of my bandages and dressings and commented about how well the surgery was looking. "Would I like to see?"

And so I told her to clear off and put a dressing on it, and it took her a while to do it. I think that she was hoping that I’d catch sight of it.

She’s formally forbidden me to wrap a dressing around the arm – just leave the plaster on it. And she’s going to ‘phone up the nurse and give her instructions. And so I’m suspicious.

But some good has come out of this meeting. I told her of my woes at the private clinic. She was horrified. Being a terminally ill patient, I’m entitled to 100% of my healthcare covered by the State. She showed me the paper that she has which confirms it.

The Private Clinic had no right to make me pay even a penny. So she’s asked to see a copy of the receipt and she’ll take it up with the Hospital’s Welfare Department

After she’d taken a blood sample she threw me out and the taxi brought me home where my faithful cleaner was waiting. She helped me up the stairs and into my apartment.

She seems to think that I’m moving better than I did previously, and how I wish that it were true

Not having had anything to eat or drink as yet, I sat down to breakfast. And couldn’t move for a while afterwards, so when the nurse came round to deal with me later, the place was a tip with breakfast dishes everywhere.

After she left, I had some ‘phone calls to make.

The President of the Residents’ Committee is returning on Sunday so we had a good that about this and that.

It included the latest news about our neighbour, currently residing in the hospital. Things are not looking to bright for her future and we may have seen the last of her in this building

Once we had hung up I made a drink and then ‘phoned a friend.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that a few weeks ago I mentioned a project that I might be starting at some point.

It’s had a couple of false starts and deciding that it can’t go on for ever and can’t be delayed much longer, I have decided to go in a different direction.

This actually means calling for help. After all, the key to success has been knowing where to stop and when to seek the advice of experts, and if you have friends who can be depended up to help you in this respect, then so much the better.

And I’ll tell you something else for nothing, and that is at the end of a chat that lasted a Rosemaryesque one hour and 15 minutes, I was a long way further down the road than I was after several months of prevaricating

Tea tonight was pie and veg, the last slice which was a shame because it was so nice. And it was followed by apple turnover and soya cream

Yes, my air fryer is great for warming up slices of pie and apple turnovers.

So now I’m off to bed, hoping for a really good sleep, and I mustn’t forget to wash my shorts in the morning. I forgot last week. Why I wash them on Saturdays is because with not going to bed until later, they have longer to dry.

But before I go to bed, let me tell you about the Clinic at Avranches and the guy in the next cubicle to me.
He works in the quarry down the road and wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way when they detonated some explosive.
"And it’s badly damaged my … errr … ummm …" he said, groping for the polite word.
"Rectum?" asked the nurse, helpfully
"Well" said the man "in all honesty it’s not done ’em much good"

Thursday 1st August 2024 – IF EVER I …

… lay my hands on the person who started up a stone-cutter and cement mixer outside my window at … gulp … 05:30 this morning, they’ll be eating their meals through a straw for the next couple of weeks.

They say that if violence is the answer, it must have been a pretty stupid question, but it was certainly the most stupid question that I could think of, asking if it was OK to do something like that.

What made it worse was that by the time the nurse came at 08:30, whoever had done it had done what they were doing, packed up and cleared off.

That was quite a shame too because for once in my life I was in bed early – I actually made it into bed before 23:00. Not by much, it has to be said, but by enough to make it worthy of note.

And I was asleep quite quickly too, so I was looking forward to a really good sleep. But alas, it was not to be.

Once whoever it was stated up with whatever it was that he was doing, sleep was impossible and so I just lay there semi-comatose until the alarm went off. And then I fell out of bed and went about my business.

After a good wash and brush up and shave this morning, without cutting myself for once so avoiding bleeding everywhere, I came in here for a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

However, the stone cutter etc had disturbed me to such an extent that there was nothing on the dictaphone this morning, and that’s disappointing. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … what goes on during the night is the only excitement that I have these days.

When the nurse came she caught me in flagrant delit watching a football match on the internet, and to my shame I can’t remember who it was now. It must have been an exciting game.

But she changed the plasters on my legs, burst a blister and dealt with my puttees. She thinks that I’m nesh, still wanting the would on my arm to be covered up, and I told her that she was perfectly right – I am, and I don’t care who knows it.

After she left I had a slow start to the morning and then launched myself into my radio programme.

And by the time I knocked off this evening, I’d written all the notes, dictated them and begun to edit them. There are 19 minutes worth of notes to edit and I’m looking to finish with about 13.

It was a task that I was hoping to have completed by this evening but that’s not possible – and with me being at the hospital tomorrow morning I won’t have it finished for this weekend so it will have to do for next week.

There was a lengthy pause in the middle of the day as I had forgotten about the mushrooms.

Last weekend when I ordered from LeClerc they had no 250 gramme punnets of mushrooms so I bought a 500 gramme one with the intention of making some soup with the extra mushrooms. However I’d forgotten.

When I went to fetch a tomato from the fridge for my sandwiches at lunchtime I came across the mushrooms so I set out to make a mushroom soup

And it was delicious too with my fresh bread. I’m really enjoying making soups, especially when I have the correct equipment to do so. This old heavy-duty whizzer makes short work of everything, including some of the accessories that were supplied with it.

It’s a good job that I had a cooked meal at lunchtime as it was a snack tea tonight. Caernarfon were playing the return leg of their match against Legia Warsawa.

Facing a heavy defeat from the first leg, it wasn’t really any better at Nantporth. The gulf in class was evident, even more so that the other night.

The fates are really conspiring against Welsh teams right now. Making it through to the second round of European competition after good wins in the First Round, but both teams being drawn against the strongest seeded teams in their respective tournaments

But in Caernarfon’s case, even though they were swept aside unceremoniously, they’ve gone home with €350,000 of UEFA’s money and probably a lot more too from sponsorship and TV rights, etc

So right now I’m going to do the washing up and then go to bed.

But I’m hearing a story about a young girl, a TNS supporter who travelled with the fans to Budapest for the Ferencvaros match first leg the other week, telling her mother "mummy, mummy, while I was in Budapest watching TNS I’m afraid … well … errr … that I’ve become pregnant"
"How do you know, dear?" asked her mother. "Have you had a check-up?"
"No, mummy" replied the girl. "He was a Hungarian"

Wednesday 31st July 2024 – JOHN MAYALL HAS …

… died

Born in Macclesfield 90 years ago, down the road from where I used to live it’s doubtful if anyone has contributed more to the British blues scene than him.

Not that I’m a big blues fan, but ever since his first “proper” band in Manchester with long-time associate Hughie Flint (later of McGuinness Flint) on the drums, and his first incarnation of the Bluesbreakers on his arrival in London, with trainee Tax Inspector John McVie (later of Fleetwood Mac) on bass, just about anyone who is anyone on the blues circuit has played in one of his bands.

Eric Clapton, Mick Taylor, Harvey Mandel, Jack Bruce, Keef Hartley, a 15 year-old Andy Fraser, Dick Heckstall-Smith, Jon Hiseman, etc, etc, it’s a veritable Who’s Who of names who made it in the music World who have at one time passed through The Bluesbreakers

Even though he was 90 years old, and probably thinking about slowing down, he’s someone who will be sorely missed.

Something else that was sorely missed was my 23:00 curfew. I was miles away from it in fact, and on the wrong side as well. Probably much closer to midnight when I crawled into my sack.

And although I was asleep quite quickly, I was awake quite early too – at, would you believe, 02:15.

So there I was, for hours, tossing and turning and trying to go back to sleep, without any success at all. All in all, it was quite a miserable night

When the alarm went off, it was a very weary me who raised one eye up from under the quilt. But despite everything I did manage to make it out of bed before the second alarm went off.

Feeling depressingly weary, I made it into the bathroom where a good rub down with a cold flannel did little to revive my flagging spirits

Eventually I managed to make it back in here where I had a listen to the dictaphone. And to my surprise there was something on it from the night. I’d been appointed as one of two sporting ambassadors for Caernarfon Town. It was my job to welcome TNS to the ground after TNS had beaten them in a heavy defeat the previous week. Of course there was a lot of change and a lot of issues about it but we still had to do an extremely professional job

Presumably this has something to do with the fact that both Caernarfon Town and TNS are entertaining foreign opposition this week. TNS had Ferencvaros of Hungary down there in Oswestry last night, and Caernarfon will be entertaining Legia Warzawa of Poland tomorrow (Thursday) evening.

The nurse caught me by surprise this morning. She rings on my doorbell from downstairs as she arrives in the building but then goes to see my neighbour first, giving me about ten minutes. But today, she was here in seconds.

When she came in she caught me watching a football match. "You were quick at whatsit’s" I said
"She’s not here" she replied.

It seems that my neighbour has been taken into hospital. They aren’t convinced that she has what it takes to live an autonomous life in view of all of the falls that she’s had and the fact that she’s lost confidence in herself.

She’s gone to be assessed for a place in a Home, so she told me when I texted her later to find out how she was. And that is probably as good a solution as you can expect for her.

The nurse changed the covering on my arm and then dealt with my legs. She wasn’t here long and left quite quickly, running rather later than usual. But we did make arrangements for Friday because I won’t be here that morning.

While I was eating breakfast I was reading a book about lost trails in Montana. Once again I was so engrossed, especially when I reached the chapter on a band of vigilantes that roamed the Territory righting wrongs and hanging outlaws that I was there for a long time poring over the pages.

Once again, very little of this stuff has made it onto Wikipedia and so its all likely to fall out of the pages of recorded history as the three-minute truncated attention span of the MTV Generation takes more and more control.

The rest of the day, when I’ve not been asleep, has been spent tracking down musicians who played with John Mayall and samples of their music. Mayall is the kind of person who deserves a radio programme in his honour and I’m sure that there will be enough material for me to assemble some sort of something to commemorate his services to music.

The cleaner came by for an hour or so too in a vain attempt to make the place look pretty. We had the accounts to settle too and I had to go to lie down in a darkened room afterwards.

Tea tonight was another slice of pie with potatoes, mixed veg and gravy. And the secret to warming up the pie is to put it in the air fryer. It’s simple really.

So now, nice and early, I’m going to go back to do some more on my John Mayall project

But John Mayall’s passing reminds me of that hellfire-and-damnation vicar who was preaching a sermon at the local church
"One day, everyone from this parish will die, and will be called to answer for their sins before the merciless God"
To which a man on the back rown burst out laughing.
"I don’t think that you heard me" thundered the vicar. "I said – ‘one day, everyone from this parish will die, and will be called to answer for their sins before the merciless God’"
"Oh I heard you, right enough" said the man, laughing even more
"So why are you laughing?" asked the vicar
"Well, I don’t come from this parish"

Tuesday 30th July 2024 – I’VE HAD A …

… lovely tea tonight.

With plenty of stuffing in the fridge left over from yesterday, ordinarily I’d be having a taco roll with rice tonight followed by a leftover curry tomorrow and something different on Thursday

However when I was reading back a couple of years in my blog I noticed a reference to pies, and it suddenly occurred to me that I haven’t had a really good pie for ages.

Add into the equation the fact that I need to bake some bread as I have now run out, so the oven will be on, but the bread will only take up half an oven. There’s half an oven going spare.

And so the answer is pretty obvious. I hope that I can remember how to bake a pie because it’s been years

It’s also been years since I’ve had a decent night’s sleep. At least, that’s what it seems like. And last night was no different. It was another late night when I finally crawled into my stinking pit

And once again, I didn’t need much rocking before I was fast asleep, dead to the World.

And there I remained until all of … errr … 04:15. This is becoming a habit.

However, today I managed to go back to sleep, at least for a short while. But since then I’ve had an annoying itch in my right wrist that is driving me to distraction. It’s been going all day.

Add to that the persistent dull throb in the left wrist where I had the operation and all in all, I’m in something of a mess.

When the alarm went off I staggered into the bathroom where I sorted myself out for the day and washed the crepe bandages that had been soaking for the last 24 hours. They are now hung up to dry.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone from the night. Someone rang me up to talk about a friend’s illness and how it was going to affect me. They rang a couple of times and wanted to speak to me about this kind of thing, making sure that I was aware of what was happening and what was going on, which was a surprise when you are asleep like that sometimes. I’ve no idea why

Then Nerina and I were living in Gainsborough Road. We were working on the Industrial Estate there. It was time to go to work but only one of the alarms had worked, which was mine, so I took my pushbike and began to cycle to work. Nerina, realising that I was going to work, dashed out of bed, dashed to wash, dashed to put on her clean clothes then leaped onto her bike and chased after me. She passed me at the corner and cycled off into the distance. There were one or two other guys who were cycling with her. I was hoping that she would find a place where she’d no longer cycle and she’d have to walk. For me, I was quite happy to push on on the bike but Nerina was rather more difficult. She wanted really to lose any confrontation like lhat. She was one of these people who would only do it if if it was all marked out and mapped out etc. But on this particular run she ended up talking to a couple of other guys as she was cycling and it was an effort to keep up with them that she made this distance between the two of us and once again there was nothing that I could do to close this gap.

All of this sounds familiar too, but that’s all water that has long-since flown under the bridge.

My friend from Stoke on Trent joined the Open University and began to study but he lacked the self-discipline and was unable to make much progress. He didn’t have what it took to knuckle down like that on a six-year course. We had a few arguments about his studying but in the end I left him to do what he wanted to do rather than what he ought to be doing and it all went pear-shaped. But it was interesting listening to someone at the University talking about the OU’s Marketing. First of all, they obviously hit the students with all of the renewal business etc but eventually they hit the sleazy Newsgroups and sleazy chatrooms to invite their members along. Some of their members did quite well at studying too when you consider their background. There was certainly plenty of different people and plenty of different classes studying at the University and I was glad to have been there at a very interesting time when we had their own new chat system where we could actually see how things were evolving

So I’m now running marketing campaigns in my sleep. But had this taken place 25 years ago when I was at University there would have been plenty of sleazy Newsgroups to go at. Usenet was at its anarchic, chaotic height and there were all kinds of things going on in its hidden bowels and a Marketing campaign would have had plenty of room to manoeuvre. As for self-discipline, a lot of people totally underestimated the amount of self-discipline you needed to study at the Open University, with no tutors and lecturers sitting over you, and work, colleagues and family getting in the way. I had to revise my study plan considerably after the events of 2001 which meant that we were working practically permanent overtime. But our chat system, “First Class”, was excellent. Hats off to the designers of that. We had hours of endless fun and games

I was teasing one of the kids who belonged to one of the women. I asked her what she wanted for dessert, whether she wanted Christmas cake or Christmas pudding. She couldn’t make up her mind so I told her that seeing as the Christmas cake was mine if she chose pudding I’d give her a slice of Christmas cake too but she was dithering about, umming and ahhing, couldn’t make up her mind so I was quite busy teasing her while all of this was going on but she still hadn’t made up her mind.

Teasing kids is all good fun as long as you know where to draw the line, because there is a point where although the adults think that it’s hilarious, it’s no longer fun for the kids. You need to stop a long time before then. However, I wonder who the kid was. She wasn’t one of my three favourite young ladies, which is a shame.

It’s Isabelle today for the next week or two. She was her usual cheerful self but she couldn’t hang around as she had a blood test to do back at her office. She was in and out in 5 minutes doing my puttees, but she didn’t forget to give me my injection.

After she left, I had breakfast and then for about an hour afterwards I did something that I haven’t done for ages – nice and comfy on my breakfast chair, I read my book, BYWAYS IN BRITISH ARCHAEOLOGY or, rather, finished it off. I had about 100 pages to go but I was so deeply engrossed that after I’d eaten my toast I just carried on until the end.

The book, published in 1912, explains the author’s theory that many churches are built on old pagan religious sites to a plan that is proto-pagan in origin. It’s a fascinating book, as are most of these ancient tomes stored on-line.

It’s amazing how much has been forgotten too, when you read the facts that are disclosed within its pages that never made it onto the internet and into Wikipedia. And with people now just doing their research on Wikipedia and going nowhere else, all these facts will be lost for ever.

When I’d finished my book I phoned up the hospital at Avranches to say that I won’t be going to this appointment at the private hospital. But the surgeon and his assistant are away until 18th August. Could I call back after then?

So tell me – what good is this emergency number that I was given.

And then there were the final radio notes to edit from the batch that I dictated on Saturday night.

These radio notes are important because it’s for a live concert. There’s a World-famous live album recorded 50-odd years ago but the entire recording of the whole concert has somehow found its way into my possession, so on the anniversary of its recording I’ll be doing my own live concert and you’ll hear the album as it was meant to be, not how the producers wanted it.

This was something else that so engrossed me that I forgot my lunch.

After my mid-afternoon hot chocolate I set about making the dough for the loaf for the next few days.

And while the dough was proofing I had to think about the pie. The traditional recipe is 1 part flour to one part margarine, but I seem to remember that vegan margarine is much more oleaginous so I just used 50% of the butter and that worked out really well.

There wasn’t quite enough filling but a small tin of lentils did the job perfectly. And with the pastry that was left over from my mix I made an apfel strudel.

The oven was nice and full so I put everything in to bake while I washed up and cleaned up.

A pan full of potatoes and veg with gravy was next on the agenda and that was all tipped onto a plate with a slice of the pie.

One thing that I vowed never to do, but I did it all the same, was to eat at my desk.

But TNS were playing Ferencvaros of Hungary in the second leg of a Champions League match.

Following a defeat in Budapest they had their backs against the wall but they held out for 43 minutes when a goal that was so far offside that even the player scoring it looked with amazement at the linesman who had kept his flag well down

And when TNS conceded a penalty with 30 minutes to go to fall even further behind, then that was it. But they battled on bravely and deep into stoppage time scored a consolation goal. But to be quite honest, the Ferencvaros players had long-since clocked off for the night.

It’s fair comment to say that having drawn the top seed at this stage in the competition, the draw for this round wasn’t very kind to TNS.

But TNS and its officials have aspirations of competing in the Group stages, and they’ll encounter plenty of teams as good as Ferencvaros and many seeded teams much better who will join the competition at a later stage. So heavy defeats will become the norm if things don’t change.

On that note I’m going to prepare myself for bed. It’s another late night but it can’t be helped.

But going back to the old days of Usenet, it reminded me of that slogan that just about summed up everything about it
"Usenet – where men are men….. and where women are men …..and where children are Law Enforcement Officers"
Who will ever forget that “14 year old girl” trying to entrap a “15 year old boy” and he eventually took the bait and agreed to meet the girl.
It was in fact an elaborate sting operation by one County in California posing as a girl in the hope of catching a man looking for a victim posing as a teenage boy. What they caught instead was the Cybercrime Unit of the neighbouring County posing as a teenage boy hoping to catch a man looking for a victim posing as a teenage girl

Monday 29th July 2024 – I’VE HAD A …

… lovely chat this morning.

Round about 10:30 I noticed that Ingrid had come on line. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chat so I ‘phoned her up to find out her latest news.

Like most of us these days, it’s a mixture of good and bad but it’s still nice to keep in touch with each other and exchange our news regardless of what type of news it is

Something else that was nice was to be in bed before 23:00 last night and it’s been a long time since that’s happened. I’d all-but given that idea up as an unrealised ambition, but there we are.

With having prepared the pizza dough and the pizza early, I’d soon eaten it and cleaned up the kitchen (I try to do that every night – I don’t like to wake up to the washing-up), then I came in here to write up my notes.

Everything was all done and dusted by about 22:30 so I just had to undress and roll up my puttees before hitting the hay.

And once again, I didn’t need much rocking. As regular readers of this rubbish will recall I have a little … well, mantra, I suppose, that I follow when I’m in bed to give me an idea of how long it takes to fall asleep. And I haven’t reached the end of it yet, certainly not last night.

Despite everything though, I was awake again at 04:15 for some reason. But there’s no danger whatever of my leaving the bed at that time. I curled up and went back to sleep, and that’s where STRAWBERRY MOOSE found me when the alarm went off.

On my way to the bathroom I took my puttees into the living room. And in that distance, a mere handful of yards, I managed to lose yet another clip for my puttees. I’ve absolutely no idea what’s going on with those. There is no rhyme or reason why they should disappear, and nowhere for them to go.

In the bathroom I had a good wash and change of clothes, washed the clothes that I’d taken off and then put into the bowl the crêpe bandages from the last few days and left them to soak ready to clean tonight.

Back in here again, nursing a thirst that you could photograph, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And I’d gone far too by the looks of things. I was miles away on some kind of visit to the hospital. They checked me over and gave me a couple of injections. They gave me a tablet and I began to hallucinate. I had a kind-of hallucinatory dream at that point where I was just seeing all kinds of shapes like speech bubbles that kept appearing and disappearing etc. That went on for several minutes. Someone from the hospital said “doesn’t that feel better than a ponction lombaire or whatever it was, which of course it does but I couldn’t understand what they were doing and what was the significance of it. It just seemed to me to be a series of random tests but there was this kind-of geodesic dome thing in there that was containing all the balls, stopping them all flying everywhere I suppose but it was so big that you couldn’t actually see it. To all intents and purposes there was nothing there doing that. It was all just so surreal.

And that reminds me of the hallucinations that I had when they started me on that anti-potassium powder. Until I’d become used to the stuff I was all over the place. I could honestly have sold that down the back streets of a Paris suburb and made a fortune. And, of course, anything, absolutely anything, is better than a ponction lombaire – except for a ponction thoracic

I was working in the same place as my father. I wanted a couple of days off so I told my boss that I had to take my motorbike in to have some work done on it. I asked for a couple of days off which were granted. When I was off on the first day he sent a mail around saying that he’d recalculated everyone’s holidays and I only had two days left. I couldn’t understand where all my holidays had gone to so the first thing that I did was to go back into the office and cancel the day’s leave for tomorrow. He looked at me and asked “is your motorcycle done?”. I suddenly couldn’t think what he meant but it suddenly hit me and I said “yes, that’s OK”. He wanted to speak to my father but my father was having this intense private conversation about his leave and how many more days he wanted off etc but it was difficult for him to talk with the boss there and difficult for the boss to interrupt and difficult for the boss to comprehend what was happening so I interrupted him again to ask how come I’d only had two days leave left. He began to go through my list of entitlement of my days that I’d taken off already. I could see that there was some kind of mistake but I could see that he wasn’t particularly sure about anything and carried on going through it. I thought that the only thing to do was to wait until he’d finished and if he hadn’t picked up the mistake then I’d pick it up but it was all extremely confusing. I certainly felt that I had a lot more than just two days annual leave left. It was only July and most of my annual leave wasn’t taken off until the last week in August and the first week in September.

We always used to take our holidays the first two weeks of September. The brats would be back at school and out of the way but the weather would still be nice and all of the venues would be open. My last holiday was at the end of September though, in 2022 when I went to Canada. But that was due to force of circumstances

My team was called out to do some work on a road maintenance thing. When we turned up there was equipment everywhere, material everywhere and this road maintenance thing was a right mess of total confusion. We eventually tracked down a couple of guys. They were supposed to be edging off people’s gardens where they were overgrown, their hedges, on the public highway. We asked them how far they’d gone with that they were doing. They replied “nothing” – that was why they had called us out. One of my friends said something and this led to something of a brawl between the two teams. Of course the boss stepped in and stopped it. He said that it was totally ridiculous. He said that we’d come here to do a job and all we needed was some information – how much of the job they had done and how much they hadn’t done. If they tell us, we can start. It seems ridiculous that they’ve contracted for this and called us in as subcontractors because we’re cheap, and just because we’re cheap all we’ll end up doing is brawling amongst ourselves. It’s totally futile. We’ll never have anything done unless someone gets a grip and tells us now “how far have they gone with this job or are we expected to do it all? If so, let’s get on with it”.

Not quite a regular theme, but people making even the most simple task into something that is complicated way beyond belief seems to be the way of the modern World and its inhabitants. But my griping reminds me of Great Western Railway chairman Sir Daniel Gooch at a Railway Inspectorate hearing saying that "it’s high time we threw all these modern safety contraptions into the fire and returned to he business of running railways"

I’d stepped back into that period of dream about the road-mending. We were there doing the job that we were supposed to do when suddenly a bull appeared around the corner and began to charge at all of our equipment and personnel. I’ve no idea where it came from and why it was here but it was an extremely aggressive bull all the same

It beats me why I can step back into a banal nondescript dream like that but whenever I’m with Zero or TOTGA or Castor I can never manage to do so. You would think that after all of these years I’d be able to summon up my female companions at will

There was some time left before the nurse arrived so I began to watch a football match from the weekend – Queens Park v Kelty Hearts. It was interesting to me because after all of these years and complications involving Hampden Park, the stadium known as “Lesser Hampden” at the side of Hampden Park is finally complete and the Spiders, who own Hampden Park and used to play their home games there, now finally have a home that they can truly call their own. And while I won’t ever be able to watch a game there, I was there in spirit virtually this morning.

It’s the nurse’s last day today for a while. He’s off on his holidays. It’s Isabelle for the foreseeable future starting tomorrow so I hope that she’s in a good mood.

The nurse this morning was reasonably happy with everything which was good. Things are so much better when the nurses are cheerful and happy.

After he’d gone I had breakfast. And then I came back in here to watch the football.

This is THE LINK to the game. It’s interesting because firstly, you get to see Little Hampden, and secondly, you’ll see the most one-sided football match that I’ve seen for many a year.

Kelty Hearts were not just bad, they were appalling. They lost the game 6-0 and they were lucky to get nil. Had it not been for the heroics of their ‘keeper and some inept finishing by the Spiders’ forwards, we could have had a cricket score here. Dominic Thomas even blazed a penalty miles over the bar after it had been awarded shortly after the kick-off.

And then Ingrid was there so we had a chat. She told me inter alia that after a spell just now in hospital, there’s nothing more that can be done for her left leg. She’s had to give up all kinds of things, including her beloved walking and cycling

But it’s an ill-wind that doesn’t blow anyone any good. Wondering how she was now going to move around, do her shopping etc, a woman in her village mentioned in the middle of a conversation that she was planning on exchanging her car, an elderly but perfectly serviceable Toyota diesel automatic, for a new one.

Of course, if it’s your left leg that will no longer work you can still drive an automatic. And when you find an insurance company that will recognise all of your no-claims discount from your previous car insurance years ago, the rest is, as they say, history.

And so in the near future I might be having another visit. I hope so because I like Ingrid. In fact, I like all my friends and wish that they’d all visit me more often.

Most of the rest of the day has been spent working on radio stuff. The second long radio notes has now been edited, the programme has been assembled, the final track has been chosen and the notes written ready for dictation.

Something else I’ve been doing too is to make a start, or a re-start, should I say, on the notes about my trip to Jersey in 2022. There’s about 100 photos that need editing and the notes writing. The longer I leave them, the harder it will become to do it.

But apart from the two bad falls that I had, that was a really good trip and I wish that I’d gone over there on other occasions instead of leaving it until the last moment when I was at the limit of being able to do it.

To my surprise, I only crashed out for about 20 minutes today. And if that’s not progress I don’t know what is. I hope that I can keep it up.

The cleaner stuck her head in the door to give me some post. I’m summoned again to that hospital in Avranches where I had that dispute. So that’s another phone call to organise.

Tea tonight was a stuffed pepper with pasta and veg. Plenty of stuffing left but I have a cunning plan for that tomorrow. I’m planning a baking afternoon seeing as it looks as if I’ll be running out of bread.

But that’s tomorrow. Tonight I’m off to bed. Late again, but not all that late. Let’s see how many puttee clips I can lose tonight.

But dreaming about that bull reminds me of a sign that I saw in a field near Ironbridge when we were looking for a place to camp once.
"I let people use this field for free, but the bull may make a charge."

Sunday 28th July 2024 – I HAVE MADE …

… some excellent pizzas in my time but tonight’s pizza has beaten everything that I have ever made.

At first I thought that it was going to be a total disaster. I’d forgotten to add the oil to the mix and didn’t realise until far too late. As a result, the dough for tonight’s pizza was sticking to my silicon baking mat when I was rolling it out and we had something of a struggle.

But when it came out of the oven the base had fluffed up really well and was extremely light. Consequently it cooked even better than usual and if I could make pizzas like this all the time I’d be more than satisfied

Something else that I want to mention is to go back to something that I said a week or so ago about part-time teams playing full-time teams

This morning I was watching Aberdeen, full-time professionals of the Scottish Premier Division v Dumbarton, a part-time team promoted to the third from the fourth tier at the close season.

The first half was pretty even, finishing 0-0 at the break. Immediately from the restart (and I do mean “immediately”) before Dumbarton had come up to speed, they conceded 2 goals.

The score was 3-0 to Aberdeen with just 6 minutes to go, but it finished 6-0, as Dumbarton ran completely out of steam at the end and Aberdeen put them to the sword. It was a perfect example of what I had been saying, and I’m convinced that I’m correct.

Last night I ran out of steam quite late as it happened. Not that I’m complaining though because I dictated a pile of stuff for the radio and I’m catching up rapidly with the backlog, which suits me fine. I now have a pile of stuff ready for editing, which is good news as it will keep me out of mischief for a while.

Once I was in bed I didn’t need much rocking. I was soon asleep and stayed that way for quite a while.

It was about 06:45 when I awoke but there was no danger of my leaving the bed at that time of day. It’s Sunday and a lie-in, although the days when I could lie in until midday and later are long-gone thanks to the visit of the nurse.

At 08:00 when the alarm went off I fell out of bed and began to organise myself.

And I seem to have lost another clip for my puttees. I’m convinced beyond all doubt that I picked up two in here but when I arrived in the living room I only had one and I’ve no idea where the other one has gone, despite a thorough search. In the end I had to raid the stores for another.

But it beats me how stuff can go missing in here. There’s quite simply nowhere for it to go where it can be missed or lost.

And of course the nurse was early today. I was only half-washed and half-dressed and I had something of panic-stricken five minutes to prepare myself while he was round at my neighbour’s

He seems to think that the wound in my arm has healed so well that in a week or so I won’t need the plaster. But he can have another think about that. I’ve no idea what they did, I don’t want to know and I don’t want to see it.

Yes – when they finally come to try to plug me in we’re going to have a panic attack like we’ve never had before, but that’s a bridge that we’ll cross when we come to it.

After he left I had a very leisurely breakfast and then came in here to transcribe the dictaphone notes. There was a girl being interviewed on the radio about relationships with her boyfriend. She was regretting that her boyfriend was not the romantic type and recounted an episode where they had once come to some kind of big puddle in their path. While they were debating what to do, a passer-by came past, picked her up and carried her across the puddle and put her on the other side. She said that it was a shame that her boyfriend had never done anything like that. A few weeks later they found a big puddle in their path. He promptly agreed to pick her up to carry her. He stepped into the puddle but it was an extremely deep one that went up to his waist and he was stranded in there with his girlfriend. It just never worked out romantically as it ought to.

That’s a situation with which I can relate. Nothing seems ever to work out the way that I want it to either and it all inevitably ends up pear-shaped. I reached a stage a long time ago where I’d just let nature take its course and so much the better because then there’s far less to worry about. Some people seem to have a natural flair for this sort of thing, but someone somewhere has been given my share as well, I think.

And then I had the football. Stranraer weren’t playing this weekend so I had to look somewhere else for a game, and came across Aberdeen v Dumbarton, as I mentioned.

With a Premier Division team playing at home against a third-tier side there was only ever going to be one winner, but Dumbarton gave their hosts a fright, having the ball in the net after just a couple of minutes, only for it to be ruled out for offside

It took Aberdeen a while but once they were up to speed the inevitable rampage began.

After the game had finished I began to edit the notes that I’d dictated. The notes for the three additional tracks to make three complete programmes were completed first. They are all dealt with and assembled

At this point I broke off and made myself a salad sandwich for lunch, completely forgetting that I have this mushroom soup to make. Ahh well ….

For the first part of the afternoon I had one of the longer radio programmes to edit. That’s all done and the programme has been assembled as far as I can. The final track has been chosen and the notes written awaiting dictation which will happen on Saturday night if nothing else happens to disrupt my plans.

Round about 16:00 I couldn’t decide whether to go to sleep or go for my hot chocolate. I chose the latter which was a good decision.

And then I had pizza dough to make as I’ve run out. As I mentioned earlier I forgot the oil but not to worry – the pizza dough rose like a lift.

Two balls are in the freezer and the third was used for tea tonight and as I said, it was the best pizza that I have ever made.

And so on that note I’m going to bed ready to Fight the Good Fight this week. Considering that Sunday is a Day f Rest when I don’t ever work, I have put my back into it today and accomplished a great deal. I ought to have a Day of Rest more often
It makes a change from when I rang up my boss and told him that I wasn’t coming into work today
"What’s the matter?" he asked
"I”m having a vision issue right now" I replied
"What’s wrong with your vision?" he asked
"I just can’t see myself working today" I replied.

Saturday 27th July 2024 – HAVING HAD A COUPLE …

… of days where I haven’t crashed out at all, or nearly so, during the day, I made up for it today.

It wasn’t quite as bad as last Saturday where I spent all afternoon crashed out until teatime, but it wasn’t far off.

That’s quite a disappointment, as I’m sure that you can imagine. I thought that I was getting over this spell of dramatic tiredness, but apparently not. I’ll just have to keep on plugging away and hoping that somewhere, somehow, I’ll find a solution.

It’s not as if I was particularly late in bed.

It wasn’t 23:00, that’s for sure, but it was near enough to make no difference, and I slept right through until … errr … 04:15.

No danger of my leaving the bed at that time though. I curled up under the quilt and went back to sleep until the alarm went off at 07:00.

The ‘phone was plugged into the computer, charging up, so it was a scramble across the bedroom to switch it off when it rang. And then it was an ungainly stagger into the bathroom.

After I’d washed I had to sort out the puttees. Moaning Minnie had wanted them washing so they had been soaking overnight. This morning I gave them a good hand-washing and hung them in the bathroom to dry.

There already was a pair that I’d washed a few days ago so I took those down and rolled them up ready for use today.

Next job was to tidy up the LeClerc shopping bags that are all over the place and put them one inside another. There’s a consigne or “deposit” of €0:20 per bag that I receive back when I turn the bags in to the deliverer on his next trip so I don’t want to lose or damage them.

There was time then to come in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. My father was working for a company in transport again. In the garage they had an old, disreputable type of van-thing that they used to go out to breakdowns on. It was always my father and his friend who went. I noticed that my father was becoming rather sullen and sulky so I asked him why. It turns out that he’d had a row with his partner at work. The guy was being difficult about putting on his seatbelt. Anyway the next day the two of us were out in this old van. I was trying to make the seatbelt fasten but it didn’t work and it left an oily stain on my clothes. My father said that now his friend had stated quite flatly and frankly that he’s no longer putting on his seatbelt under any circumstances and that had rather soured their relationship. We were talking about it and trying to find other things for my father to do in his spare time. He did some taxi driving at one point but said that with his friend being difficult now and he drives for another company and has friends here and there, my father is going to have to stop driving as my father doesn’t want any unpleasantness if he confronts any of these people while they are out doing the evening taxi driving so we were having to think of other things that my father could do to pass the time.

At my father’s place they had a series of big Mercedes vans and he and his colleagues were off all over the UK sorting out breakdowns on the lorries, all mostly old Foden and ERF glass-fibre cab stuff. Anything else would fall apart in weeks due to the effects of the salt, but they and their contractors had Fodens that were 20-odd years old and still doing a heavy day’s work. Nothing luxurious about them at all but they would go for ever

But it looks as if my family’s intervention in my night-time travels will go on for ever. It beats me why this would be the case. During the day I don’t think about them at all yet here they are. On the other hand, I can think about Zero, Castor and TOTGA all I like but do they put in an appearance in my dreams? I should be so lucky.

Later on, I was called out for my bad singing by a group of readers of a Scottish rock magazine so I thought that I’d better do something to defend myself. I began to debate whether to announce to the world the fact that I’m suffering from this illness, whether it would be a good idea and what would be the consequences if I did, going on a circuit of concerts to reassure the fans was hardly the correct thing to do if I’m going to claim to be too ill to sing properly so I’ll have to think very carefully about what to do to restore my popularity with my rock fans in Scotland.

This dream is actually an allegory. It relates to an incident involving Scotland that took place in 2007-2008 and from which certain issues are still reverberating around even today, with one or two unfortunate and unwilling victims swept up in the chaos. Still, that’s a pretty good description of real life. There are innocent victims swept up in the chaos of everyone’s story. And as for my singing, well, the less said about that the better.

The nurse was going to wash my feet today so I had to have everything ready, including a clean towel and flannel. He had a moan about the towel not being clean enough, but that’s as clean as it gets with my washing machine.

He has a point of course, and I can see it. If I catch an infection, he’ll be blamed regardless of what he has done, so he needs to cover himself. But it’s still quite depressing all the same.

The puttees weren’t particularly clean either, despite the good wash that this set had had at the beginning of the week, but he bit his tongue about them.

After he left I made myself some breakfast and read for a while my book on the siting of churches in Medieval times. We’re onto an interesting chapter about burials where a chariot and horse, and presumably a charioteer or two, were interred with the deceased. It’s all good stuff.

Later on, after a very slow start to the day, I began to think about this radio programme.

It’ll take place early – very early – in the New Year and it has a certain theme, but that’s as far as I’d gone with it. Today, I set about choosing the music.

As usual, after my efforts yesterday, I have far too much. It would be much easier if I only had a dozen, but today I had to pick 10 – or 8 longer ones – from a selection of at least 21. Anyway, eventually, after being away with the fairies for a couple of hours I have 8 sorted out plus a reserve supply of a couple in case I need them.

Once I’d organised this much I set down to think about what I’m going to write. And I made a little stat when Rosemary rang me up for a chat, which was nice. I can’t go working all the time.

This was just a short chat this time – a mere hour and eleven minutes.

But I teased her by saying that she’s becoming a crazy cat lady. Not only is she regaling me with tales of Myrtille’s latest activities, she’s also told me that Myrtille is bringing a friend round, a scrawny, half-starved black and white cat.

Anyone who knows anything at all about cats will know that there is nothing surprising about any of this. It won’t be long before Rosemary has half a dozen cats winding their bodies around her legs.

Tea tonight was one of my lovely breaded quorn fillets with salad and baked potato. My air fryer is doing a great job but I’m sure that it can do much, much more than I’m doing with it.

That’s something that I’ll be doing when I move downstairs – having a decent oven, a decent microwave and plenty of space to work. And I can’t wait. This 10 months will seem like 10 years.

In a mad fit of enthusiasm I even found the time to dictate a huge pile of arrears for the radio notes. I’ll start editing those tomorrow after I’ve watched the highlights of today’s football matches. I’m now up to February next year which is where I want to be

It’s the Olympics here in France now, and nothing can be further from my mind than that. But we’ve had a team of Olympic athletes being shown around the old walled town today and they came by here. My cleaner told me to go to the window to look.

Whoever they were, they were dressed all in blue track suit stuff but I didn’t recognise anything. I don’t have a clue who they were.

But it did remind me of an incident at the 1986 European Championships at Stuttgart where Fatima Whitbread won the Gold for Britain in the Pentathlon with an absolutely magnificent throw of the javelin that broke all records and even cleared the safety fence at the far end of the stadium
Ten minutes later, the news was announced, followed by "and the gold medal in javelin-catching has been awarded to Herr Heinz Schmidt, who was walking his dog in the park in the background".
Ten minutes later there was another announcement. "Please cancel that last message. Unfortunately, there is no provision in the rules of the European Championships for medals to be awarded posthumously."

Friday 26th July 2024 – SO THAT’S ANOTHER …

… 2 kilos of carrots washed, cleaned, peeled diced blanched and draining ready to go in the freezer.

It’s a good job that I made some room in there. But when 2ks of carrots are cheaper than 1kg it makes sense to buy the bulk offering.

The freezer will be full of carrots and I’ll have them coming out of my ears but I’m not going to turn down an offer like this.

It’s possible to buy frozen carrots of course but I find that they are pumped too full of water, go soggy and taste like damp cardboard when they are cooked. It’s much nicer to freeze my own.

They aren’t the only vegetables that I freeze. Brussels sprouts and broccoli are regular candidates. And I’d freeze a lot more if I had the capacity.

It’s not just the vegetables that are freezing. I’m freezing too. In fact, I’ve put on a jacket as I’m typing because it’s perishing. What the hell happened to summer?

It was cold last night, but not as cold as thins. Cold enough though for me to be in a hurry to go to bed and although it was after 23:00, it wasn’t after 23:00 by much

And once again I was soon asleep, and slept right the way through to all of … errr … 04:15. After that it was a night, or rather, a morning of tossing and turning until the alarm went off.

At some point I must have gone back to sleep because when the alarm went off I was doing something around Leicester – I’m not exactly sure what. I was in a bedroom with a load of bunk beds in it like in the military or something like that but I can’t remember now exactly what I was doing. Of course when the alarm went off I forgot absolutely everything except these little pictures and images that I’d managed to keep.

That was what I dictated anyway and it probably means something to someone, but not to me. The only time I ever made it to Leicester was with Shearings on a feeder.

In the bathroom I had a good wash and brush up, but cut myself shaving (or, rather, reopened the cut from the previous time). Consequently I was bleeding everywhere for most of the morning, making more of a mess.

Back in here I listened to the dictaphone to find out where else I’d been during the night. There was something to do with a football match. A player had to be brought onto the field after about 67 minutes. He needed taking to the stadium and the only person there was someone’s father who could do it. However he was a pretty bad driver so the footballer wasn’t interested in going with him at all. They had to use all kinds of persuasive powers to have him step into that car at the appropriate time as well as using all kinds of threats and violence against the other player in the defence to make sure that he did the job correctly without any obstructions or hindrance. But it was a nerve-wracking time to have these substitutes organised when they weren’t even in the stadium and the match was well under way.

That’s all pretty meaningless nonsense too. But it all underlines the fact that Zero never ever came back after that night a week or so ago and that TOTGA and Castor seem to have gone for ever. They haven’t been around for ages.

And that’s sad – my three favourite young ladies deserting me like this. It seems that everyone these days is voting with his feet.

So bleeding profusely from the upper lip and the nurse gave me the injection of Binocrit to thin my blood. That makes a lot of sense. And he had a good moan again this morning about the state of my puttees. They were washed only two or three days ago but he thinks that they should be washed every day.

But he’s had that. As if I have the time to be doing stuff like that. I have more than enough other things to do.

Like eat breakfast of course, which I did immediately after he left, with fresh toast cut from the loaf that I made yesterday. And my medication, including the Kardegic to thin my blood out even more, so as to keep up the bleeding from my upper lip.

After breakfast I had a play around with my shopping order, completing that and sending it off. They had the olive oil in again so I ordered another bottle. That’s three bottles that I have in stock now, but sometimes it’s hard to find and I have to buy the full-price stuff. There’s a ton of difference in price between a proprietary brand and LeClerc’s own..

All they were short of was mushrooms. No 250 gramme punnets but they had 500 grammes ones so I bought one of those and I’ll have a mushroom soup with the extra mushrooms tomorrow for lunch

While we’re on the subject of lunch … "well, one of us is" – ed … after I’d sent off my order I went for lunch, and had one of these chocolate bread things that I made yesterday.

The taste and texture is certainly different, but it’s not disagreeable.

So –
Boil up 400 ml of water
Keep it bubbling on a low heat and add 35 grammes of cocoa powder and mix well in.
When it’s mixed well in, take off the heat
add
1 teaspoon of salt
1 tablespoon of sugar
25ml oil
150 grammes flour
mix it all up very well, put in a large bowl to cool.

While it’s cooling –
in an smaller bowl start with 80ml warm water
5 grammes yeast
20 grammes sugar
Dissolve it all together

when it’s dissolved properly, add it all to the larger bowl
add 200 grammes flour

Mix it all up together as if you were making bread.
Cover and leave for 40 minutes

then divide into 10 and make into balls
leave another 15 minutes
Then bake 180°C for 30 minutes
dust with icing sugar.

They you’ll have the strangest bread rolls you’re ever likely to have, but you won’t be disappointed.

This afternoon I’ve been radioing. Having put my Hawkfest out of the way and preparing for a live album concert, there’s a special programme that I want to do in between all of this.

At the start of the year next year it will be the birthday of someone who is not at first glance associated with rock music but has inspired a whole generation of kids, and many musicians took their inspiration from him.

There are a great many rock and folk tracks that contain either outright or otherwise more subtle tributes to him and his creations so this afternoon I’ve been tracking them down.

Not just the songs either but the details and the quotes from the musicians.

So I’m going to be working on this special radio programme next, fitting it around the preparation of the normal run of programmes. I have to keep cracking on regardless with those.

My cleaner was here this afternoon cleaning up and we had a really good chat. And then the LeClerc delivery guy came with my order so I had to knuckle down and do some work for a change. I’ve still not put everything away yet.

Tea was a vegan salad with chips from the air fryer with some of these vegan nugget things, now that I’ve bought some more.

And having written my notes, I’m now off to bed.

But talking of the radio, earlier in the year we had a snowstorm here so we made a public service announcement "Because of the snow, snowploughs will be out. Please park your car on the even-numbered side of the street to clear the road for the snowplough" so everyone went and moved their car.
The next day we announced "Because of the snow, snowploughs will be out. Please park your car on the odd-numbered side of the street to clear the road for the snowplough" so everyone went and moved their car.
On the third day we announced "Because of the snow, snowploughs will be out. Please park your car ….. " and there was a power cut
"Drat" said one guy. "I don’t know where to leave the car today."
After thinking for a while his wife replied "I suppose we’d better leave it in the garage then"

Thursday 25th July 2024 – I HAVE MADE …

… an executive decision.

And for the benefit of new readers, of whom there are more than just a few these days, an executive decision is one that you make where if it all goes wrong, the person making it is executed.

My decision is that I am not taking off my puttees until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed ready to climb in last thing at night.

Especially after last night where I was sitting in a pool of blood for ages trying to stop the flow that was pouring out of the hole in my leg. My blood is so thin with this Kardegic powder and this Binocrit injection that it pours out non-stop without even an attempt at slowing down.

The idea with thinning out my blood is to make it easier for my heart to lift it but like anything else, solving one problem created a bucket-load of others and we just go round and round in circles. Do I have a heart attack or do I bleed to death?

So there was I trying to slap on plasters and in the end it was one of the big ones that the nurse uses. Not that it stopped it very much, but it stopped it enough that I could crawl into bed.

Glad I was to be in there too, late as it might have been. And I was asleep quite quickly too.

At about 06:15 I awoke but ended up going back to sleep until the alarm went off. I was disorientated at 06:15 but that was nothing to how I felt at 07:00. It took me several minutes to gather my wits which, seeing how few wits I have these days, took longer than it ought to have done.

First thing was to inspect the damage. And the place was in rather a mess after last night, and so were my clothes and slippers. So after washing me, I washed everything else

Eventually I made it back in here and I transcribed the dictaphone notes from the night. I’d been on a shopping trip. On the way there in the car I was listening to a radio programme about mistreated children. They were talking about children who had been abandoned and placed in foster homes, how their parents had made all the wrong decisions, like their whole houses were furnished by IKEA, all this kind of thing. It had been bad money management that had put these families into difficulties. The conversation went on to talk about children who had no possessions and were never allowed to do anything. They thought “what kind of life did these children have to live? How awful it was”. They were busy discussing this. In the meantime I’d turned up at this shop in Crewe at the Market Precinct place. I hadn’t actually bought anything but I’d walked through and was going happily outside. It started to talk about people who had gone to the aid of these children even in adult life. I thought of Percy Penguin of course but I must have been totally distracted because just after leaving the shop I felt a hand on my shoulder. I thought “God what have I done now?”. It was the manager of the shop, very apologetic, saying that I’d been charged £15:00 too much. I wasn’t sure how that was possible because I hadn’t been near a till and I’d not actually bought anything at all. However I was interested to see what his story was so I followed him back into the store and up to one of the cash points where I thought tha we’d be able to sort out any problem.

Once more, I’ve no idea what’s going on here. I’m not likely to be going round the Market Precinct Shopping Centre in Crewe any time soon, that’s for sure. I can’t really tie that in with anything else but as for the story about mistreated children, we all have our own tales to tell. I’m totally convinced that this idea of a happy home with happy parents and 2.4 children and 1.8 cars is nothing but a total myth and exists nowhere except in the minds of people who shoot margarine adverts for television.

The nurse was dismayed that I’d used one of “his” plasters on this bleeding. And he was even more dismayed to find that the leg started to bleed as soon as he ripped off the plaster so he had to use an extra one this morning. It’s not his day, is it?

But he managed to clean off the dried blood on my leg that I couldn’t reach. I really am in a right state, aren’t I?

After he left, I had breakfast with the last of the bread and then a leisurely start to the day. I wasn’t in any great hurry, which seems to be the story of my life right now.

Once I’d wound myself up, I paired off the music for the next radio programme and segued the pairs, and then carried on writing the notes. And by mid-afternoon I’d finished them all. That included stopping for lunch at some point in the proceedings.

With no bread left, I decided that I’d make some more this afternoon. But I’d also seen a strange recipe for making a kind-of chocolate bread, or maybe chocolate muffins with yeast. For want of anything better to do, I thought that I’d give it a try.

The bread was quite easy to make of course but this chocolate stuff was bizarre. It’s rather like an oil cake but with water and only a small amount of oil, and then with added yeast.

My home-made loaf of bread was perfection itself but these chocolate bun things are, well, interesting. It’ll be a few days before I tell you what they are like because they are planned as a replacement for my flapjacks, the supply of which is temporarily exhausted, so I won’t get to them until Monday or Tuesday.

But they certainly look as if they might be nice

Tea tonight was delicious. I need to make space in my freezer so I had some of my lasagne with steamed veg in a cheese sauce. My vegan lasagne definitely worked and I was impressed with that, almost as much as I was with my galvanised steel dustbin.

So that’s everything for today. I’m going to unwind my puttees and then go to bed. Tomorrow morning I must send an order to LeClerc. I don’t need much but it still needs to be sent

But talking about home-made bread, when Liz, Zero and a few others of us went to Chester Zoo all those years ago, we saw a loaf of bread in one of the cages.
And so we asked one of the keepers "why is that loaf there in that cage?"
"It’s quite Ok sir" he replied. "It’s bread in captivity"