Category Archives: cleaner

Monday 27th April 2026 – TODAY HAS NOT …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Friday 24th April 2026 – WHAT A HORRIBLE …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then they began.

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

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

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

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

Once he’d gone, I crashed out immediately.

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

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

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

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

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Thursday 23rd April 2026 – HERE I AM …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Wednesday 22nd April 2026 – NOT YET ANOTHER …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Tuesday 21st April 2026 – WHAT ANOTHER HORRIBLE …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Monday 20th April 2026 – WHAT A TERRIBLE …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

0

Friday 17th August 2026 – AFTER THE CATASTROPHE …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Thursday 16th April 2026 – HOW LONG IS IT …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Tuesday 14th April 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone this morning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

0

Monday 13th April 2026 – THIS EVENING, I …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Friday 10th April 2026 – I HAVE HAD …

… a lovely early evening just now. Two of my friends, Alison and Jackie, have dropped in to see me for a chat. They decided to have a weekend away and so they have come down here to see me, which is really nice. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I don’t see my friends half as often as I would like to.

It certainly breaks up my miserable routine, which never seems to change from one week to the next. I seem to be doing the same old things week after week after week after week, basically because I don’t have anything else to do with my life.

Like last night, for instance. I had my chocolate cake and home-made ice cream at 19:30 and was back in here by 19:50, when I began to write out my notes for the day. There were the usual things to do afterwards, such as to take the stats and to back up the computer, and after I’d been to the bathroom to sort myself out ready for bed, it was a mere 21:20 when I crawled underneath the covers.

That’s what I call an early night, but it didn’t do me much good. Even though I was asleep quite quickly, regular readers of this rubbish will recall what happens next at times like these. At 01:20 or thereabouts, I was wide awake again, and I had to leave the bed, for the usual reasons that any man my age will understand.

Back in bed, it was another session of tossing and turning, dozing, sleeping and so on. I couldn’t settle down at all.

When the alarm went off at 06:29 though, I was fast asleep, and I wished that I could have stayed like that. However, I was having coughing fits like I had never had before, I had a streaming head cold that I’d caught from somewhere, and despite the painkiller that I’d taken last night, the pain in my right foot was killing me.

Eventually, I managed to struggle into the bathroom and sort myself out, and then I went into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication. And one of the tablets that I took was another painkiller because I could no longer stand the pain.

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

I was reading the Bible last night. And while there were plenty of obsolete words in there that had either been removed or been changed to represent the actual occurrences of the time, the language was generally left quite basic. It was one of those things that, the way that it was left and the way that the voices were speaking, it was almost as if it was threatening me with violence on my way home that night from dialysis – it wasn’t dialysis – it was teaching that I was doing.

This is another one of those dreams of which I have no recollection at all. It certainly wouldn’t be anything like me, going teaching for a living. I don’t have the patience.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I’m asleep when I’m dictating, but I usually have some very vague memory of the dream when I’m transcribing the notes. However, this one wasn’t one of those at all.

When the alarm went off, I was busy editing a very long speech, about three different copies of what had been said. I was trying to go through them to sort them out and see where the common threads were at first. What I was doing when the alarm went off was that I was actually spell-checking the documents to make sure that there were no spelling errors in them before I started to copy and paste them.

Three different copies of what had been said in a recent speech by someone. I remember from the dream that two had been digitalised but the third one had been handwritten, which made things much more complicated.

The nurse turned up as usual. He’s trying his best to make me change my lifestyle, but I am resisting valiantly. He also thinks that painkillers are a waste of time, and I don’t necessarily disagree with him. He knows of many cases where they don’t seem to work, and, as it happens, so do I.

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

And right now, I’m becoming fed up of Thomas Wright and his “likely assumptions”, and I’ve only read about 15% of his book. Up to the present, he’s certain that the hillforts are of Saxon origin, that all bronze artefacts found by archaeologists are Roman and not from the Bronze Age, 1000 – 2500 years previously, and that the monuments like Stonehenge are Celtic, probably concurrent with the Roman occupation, rather than built by Neolithic farmers some 3500 years earlier.

There are still 480 pages to go, so I wonder what other “likely assumptions” he’s going to make before we reach the end.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, but by now, the painkiller was beginning to have an effect, and I ended up drifting away to sleep for a couple of hours. I really didn’t need that.

While I was having a little doze this morning, I was editing songs, trying to make up a radio programme and having to decide which ones to include, which ones to exclude and whether any would need shortening or lengthening.

That just sounds like a normal day in this apartment – nothing new in this.

When I awoke, it took me half an hour to get to grips with myself and then I had those things to finish off.

Once they were done, I could turn my attention to another lot of radio notes that needed editing. And fighting off (sometimes unsuccessfully) wave after wave of sleep, I edited the notes, assembled the two halves of the radio programme, chose the joining track and prepared it, and wrote the notes for it, ready for dictation.

There was even time to edit the notes for a subsequent concert, and I could have prepared a full radio programme by doing so, but the more editing I did, the less I liked the result. I’d dictated it a couple of weekends ago when I had another stinking head cold, and it sounded as if I were dictating with my head in a bucket.

No matter what I tried to adjust the sound, it only seemed to make it worse. In the end, I chucked it into the bin and decided to re-dictate the notes when I’m feeling better, whenever that might be.

At this point I knocked off because my visitors arrived. My cleaner had been around to do her stuff earlier, so everywhere was looking quite nice and tidy. My friends had brought me some presents too – a book of photos from their last trip last August and, most importantly, some ground cumin from one of the Leuven spice shops. The French spices are nothing like as strong as the genuine Indian product.

We had a lovely chat for an hour or so, and then they wandered off for a meal. I had some of my chocolate cake and home-made ice cream, and that’s my tea for tonight.

Back in here, I wrote up my notes, and now I have a few other things to do before I can have another early night, hoping that tonight, I’ll FINALLY have a really good night’s sleep.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Stonehenge … "well, one of us has" – ed … I was talking ages ago to a small girl about Stonehenge
"These stones are really old, you know. They go back a very, very long time" I said.
"How old are they?" she asked.
"Nobody knows for sure" I replied. "They are really ancient stones and go back to a time before people could write and tell the date."
"Oh, I see" she replied. "Are they Mick Jagger and Keith Richards then?"

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Thursday 9th April 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone again this morning. But that’s no real surprise.

Last night, I’d finished my chocolate cake and ice cream really early, so I came back in here and didn’t hang about. I raced through my notes and everything else that I needed to do, and I was in bed not many minutes after 21:30. And I didn’t need much rocking either. I was asleep quite quickly.

However, regular readers of this rubbish will recall what usually happens on nights like this. And even so, 00:30 was rather ridiculous. It’s also a fact that I didn’t go back to sleep either. I lay there, curled up under the quilt, trying my best to go back to sleep or, at least, stay nice, warm and comfortable.

Eventually, I said “sod it” and prepared to leave the bed to do some work, but it was 06:20 by then so there wasn’t really much point. Nevertheless, I had my feet on the ground when the alarm went off, so it counts as an early start – only just.

Having my feet on the ground is one thing – having them moving in the direction of the bathroom is quite another thing. And when I was eventually in the bathroom, I forgot to have a shave.

It was late when I finally made it into the kitchen for my medication, and I made an executive decision – that is, a decision where if it’s the wrong one, the person who made it is executed.

The decision was that I wasn’t going to have a hot drink this morning. With dialysis looming this afternoon and not knowing what will happen, I just had a mouthful of cold water to wash down my medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone but to my dismay, there was nothing on there from last night. But with a sleep of just about three hours, what was I expecting?

The nurse was early today. He was wondering why I don’t stay in here to have my feet attended to, to which my reply was that I need to eat my breakfast afterwards so I may as well be at the kitchen table.

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

Today we have finally begun to talk about the Celts in the pre-Roman days. But for how long, I don’t know. But he’s another one of these Victorian “experts” who attribute the various hillforts to the Saxons rather than the Neolithic people. He’s not quite so far out with Stonehenge, to which he attributes the Celts rather than, again, the Neolithic people.

In fact, in a most unprofessional manner, he ridicules the early nineteenth-century archaeologist Colt Hoare for daring to suggest that those constructions date to that earlier period.

Back in here, I finished off a few things and then turned my attention to the radio notes. It only took an hour or so to finish them off too. After that, I went to the bathroom for a shave and then came back in here to do one or two other things. That included reading the surprising news that Colwun Bay, Y Bala and Trefynnon have been refused a licence to play in the JD Cymru League next season. The clubs have six days to put right the shortcomings or else they will be in the Cymru North next season.

That would mean that the JD Cymru League would only run with fifteen teams next season instead of sixteen, or even fourteen if Caerau Trelai, currently in fourth position in the Cymru South and who was also refused a licence, finishes the season in one of the promotion places.

My faithful cleaner turned up as usual to apply my anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the taxi to come for me. It was ten minutes late coming for me but seeing as I was the only passenger today, we soon made up the time and I was even early arriving.

And for a change, I didn’t have to wait too long to be plugged in. But it was one of these connections that seemed to take a lot longer than it ought.

And as for my weight, for the second time in succession, I clocked in at under my dry weight. Nevertheless, I let them take out 500 grammes. I was hoping that they’d take out more but after a discussion with the doctor, 500 grammes was the best that they would do.

They wouldn’t leave me alone either today. The nurses kept on coming by to do this and to do that, almost as if they were keeping a close eye on me. It wasn’t until right near the end that they relaxed their vigilance and I could close my eyes for fifteen minutes.

While I was asleep at dialysis, I was off to Crewe town centre – Boots Corner in Market Street, to be precise. I grabbed hold of a girl – I don’t know if I knew her – and we ran hand-in-hand over to my pushbike which was chained up at the side of Boots. I undid the chain, and then I gave her a “croggy” all the way up Market Street and Edleston Road to Nantwich Road. But then, I ended up making sandwiches, with cheese, lettuce, tomato and a few other salad things.

All of that takes me back many years. It’s been years since I rode a pushbike, and years too since Boots moved from Boots Corner to a modern shop somewhere else in the town.

By the time that I was ready to be unplugged, so was everyone else, so guess who was last. However, at least it was one of my favourite nurses so I didn’t complain.

The taxi driver was waiting for me already when I was ready so I didn’t have to wait, and on weighing myself upon leaving, I was below my ideal non-active weight. At long last. I hope that I can keep it up … "or down" – ed …

When we went outside, I could hear the birds singing. That’s the first time this year. It reminded me of being back in the Auvergne and I felt terribly nostalgic.

We were no earlier arriving back here, and my cleaner helped me back into the apartment. And I needed it too because the wind had sprung up since I’d left.

Once she had left, I had my tea – just chocolate cake and home-made ice cream. I’m determined to keep on with this for as long as I can.

So right now, nice and early, I’m off to bed. And one of these days, I might actually have a good sleep. But probably not tonight, if it’s anything like the last few nights.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the birds singing … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends once asked me if I used to hear them when I lived in Crewe.
"Ohh yes" I replied. "Every evening in Spring, round about 18:00, I’d go outside and listen to them."
"Singing?"
"No. Coughing."

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Tuesday 7th March 2026 – AND YET ANOTHER …

… night when I’ll be going to bed without any tea other than chocolate cake and some of the new batch of home-made chocolate ice cream.

And while I’m at it, I shall be hoping for a better night than the near-catastrophe that was last night, when I was so looking forward to a good sleep.

After coming back in here after my cake and ice cream last night, I wrote out my notes, did what else I had to do and then made ready to climb into bed. And by the time that I was tucked up in bed with my head stuck under the quilt, it was just a minute or so after 22:00.

And there I stayed, as snug as a bug in a rug, until all of … errr … 00:45.

At that point, I had to leave the bed for what seems to be the usual reason these days, but back in bed afterwards, I couldn’t go back to sleep, no matter how I tried. I definitely remember seeing 03:00 come around on the clock. I’m not sure what happened after that, but one thing that I do know is that when the alarm went off at 06:29, I was definitely asleep. And I wish that I’d stayed asleep too.

As usual, it was something of a struggle to rise to my feet and to head off into the bathroom. But I managed to sort myself out eventually and head, rather later than usual, into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And it was, yet again, something of a disappointment.

There was a book publisher in Wales last night. His company was reviewing a whole pile of books in Welsh that had been written by Welsh musicians and was awarding some kind of prize for the best. He’d collected ever so many and read most of them. Some had been eliminated, but there were four left and they would find one more out of the ones they hadn’t read. But there was controversy over one of the four because apparently the author’s viewpoint was not that of everyone else. Some people felt that it was the wrong decision to include this, whereas others were in favour of free speech and the quality of the work rather than the quality of the opinions.

There are dozens and dozens of these sportsmen’s books written by ghostwriters “on behalf of” famous football players etc., but usually these days, they aren’t worth the paper on which they are written. And I’ve never heard of any written in the Welsh language except for one by that rugby referee Nigel Owens.

As for the dream itself, I’ve no idea from where it has come, because nothing about it rings a bell with me.

The nurse turned up after his week’s rest, telling me all about his week off and the home maintenance and cleaning that he did.

After he left, I made breakfast, back to banal toast again, and started my new book. It’s called THE CELT THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

It’s uncertain why “The Celt” is included in the title, because it only mentions them briefly in passing, and then almost always in relation to the Romans. It’s a disappointment on that score. And seeing as the book was written in 1874, a lot of assumptions that Wright makes and conclusions that he draws are now long-outdated, as more-modern discoveries have moved us forward.

Back in here, I had things to do and things to tidy up, and then seeing that there’s no Welsh class today with it being the Easter holidays, I had another look at the radio programme that I started yesterday.

Despite the fact that the edits aren’t so good, I decided to leave it pretty much as it is because editing it will only make it worse. I’ve done one or two little things, but that’s about all. It could be better, but I’m not quite sure how I would do it.

After I’d finished, I sat down and wrote out the notes for it. I needed about one minute and fifty-seven seconds of notes, but without even trying, I managed to make two minutes twenty-eight seconds. I don’t mind being over. I prefer that and have to edit a few things out rather than fall short and have to add things in.

After my disgusting drink break, my faithful cleaner appeared. And the first thing that she did was to shoo me in underneath the shower. So now, I’m a nice, clean boy … "well, clean, anyway" – ed … looking forward … "he hopes" – ed … to a decent sleep tonight.

And the apartment is nice and clean too. I wish that it would stay like that, because I always seem to let it go out of control, and I’m not sure why.

Once she’d gone, I had a few things to do, such as to make a few ‘phone calls, more of which anon, and then I could crack on.

The next radio programme is going to be more complicated than most. It doesn’t feature any musicians (although, of course, there will be music) but a person associated a long time ago with the music industry.

And as he’s still alive, I shall have to be very careful what I say because he was an extremely controversial character back in those days and although a lot has been written about him that is not very pleasant to read, I have yet to find any substantiated sources for much of it.

Finding the music will be complicated too. His company disappeared well over fifty years ago, and the master tapes went with it, so I can’t rely on my “usual sources” to conjure up a hatful of magic. But I have various “connections”, and we shall have to see what they can find for me.

So far, I’ve tracked down a few bits and pieces and, to my surprise, I have some stuff here too, so all is not lost. I’m sure that I can conjure up something.

All of that took me right up to teatime, so I went for chocolate cake with chocolate ice cream. And Bane of Britain forgot to put the mint syrup in with the final forking. It’s probably too late now, regrettably. But never mind – it’s still delicious. Heating up half of the chocolate milk and adding the cornflour worked really well, but what I need to do next time is to start much earlier, heat up all of the milk, add the cornflour to thicken it and then let it cool for half an hour or so.

So right now, I’m off to bed, in the hope that I really will have a good night’s sleep before too long.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about having a shower … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of two girls from Crewe sharing a flat together.
One of them, who is in the shower, shouts to the other one "quick, can you bring me the shampoo?"
The other one replies "but I put it in there an hour or so ago."
"Yes, I know" replied the first girl. "But that’s for dry hair. Mine is sopping wet right now."

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Friday 3rd April 2026 – I HAVE HAD …

… another miserable day today and I’ll be going to bed in a few minutes regardless of how early or late it might be. And if I have yet another evening without any tea, I really don’t care at all.

Last night, as I said earlier, I was in bed at 20:20 or thereabouts, and I was asleep almost straight away. But not for long, though. By about 00:30 I was awake, and try as I might, I couldn’t go back to sleep.

In the end, round about 03:00, I left the bed and went to sit at the computer. After doing the stats and backing everything up, I wrote yesterday’s entry and replaced the terse note that I had written earlier.

Back into bed at about 04:30, I set the alarm for 07:30 and went back to sleep – except for a brief moment round about 05:00 when I definitely heard someone shout “wake up, wake up”.

When the alarm went off, I staggered … "eventually" – ed … to my feet and went off to the bathroom for a kind-of wash. Not very much of a wash, it has to be said, because I was still fully dressed.

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

There was something about a girl who was writing some kind of biography about the Beatles, or one of the Beatles. She was choosing all kinds of music for the programme. She’d borrowed a pile of books to read but her teacher had borrowed half of those and she was having a great deal of difficulty getting them back. It turned out that this teacher wanted to be involved in the project too but the girl writing it wouldn’t have her in the project at any price. Eventually, she managed to come up with some kind of notes, but there was all the music and she didn’t really want to be involved in the music. She was going to leave this to the producer to sort out the songs and insert them into the programme where he thought fit, despite where otherwise she might have put them.

There doesn’t seem to be very much of any relevance in this dream, so I’ve no idea about anything that might have been going on. It seems that quite recently, we are having a lot of dreams that don’t relate to anything that’s been going on, so I’ve no idea what’s happening these days. It’s probably something to do with these extra pills that I have to take.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual and we had an interesting chat about hot cross buns. Apparently, she’d seen something on TV about them and wanted to know more. I told her that I’d give her my recipe and let her find out for herself.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of THE ROMAN FORT AT BALMUILDY on the Antonine Wall, written by Stewart Napier Miller.

Today, we’re discussing pottery, would you believe? And it’s interesting to note that these experts can identify the individual potter, where and when he worked from just a small fragment.

And just like James Curle at Newsteads, they note that pottery from the earlier period is of much better quality than that of the later period, quite the reverse of what you would normally expect.

As an aside, I have to say that my home-made hot cross buns are absolutely excellent. They really have turned out very well indeed and I’ll have to make another batch like that, but not have the oven so hot. I should have realised that 200°C is too high and I should have stuck to my usual 180°C

Back in here, I had things to do, such as to check my e-mails, and I found that there was work to do. Someone had written to me to tell me that I had misidentified a building on ONE OF MY WEB PAGES, so I had to amend the entry.

While I was at it, I was able to identify a colour for which I had been searching for quite a while and I can now use it, as you might already have noticed.

When I’d finished everything, I began to edit one of the sets of radio notes that had been hanging round for quite a while. So right now, the two halves of the programme have been prepared, the joining track has been chosen and the notes for it written, ready for the next lot of dictating.

That was despite several interruptions. Firstly, at midday, I had to put the dirty clothes into the machine to wash them. And then take them out later and prepare them for my faithful cleaner to hand up when she comes this afternoon.

When she turned up, round about 14:00, I was feeling too ill to stand up and say “hello”. I just grunted a few things to her from in here and let her get on with it.

After she had left, there was football on the internet, Llanelli v Y Bala.

And I have to say that I have never ever seen a team play as badly as Llanelli. Bottom of the table and already relegated, for the first sixty minutes, they played so badly that they made Y Bala, next to bottom, look good. The game was already over at that point, with Y Bala 4-0 up and it was no exaggeration.

For the final thirty minutes, Llanelli were much improved and played with much more fire and spirit. They even hit the woodwork a couple of times, but couldn’t score a goal. And in fact, near the end, Y Bala scored a breakaway goal that made it 5-0.

The battle for the second relegation place is now hotting up. From being eight points clear a couple of weeks ago and looking quite safe, Y Fflint are now just two points ahead, with one game left to play.

After the game was over, I crashed out in my chair for an hour or so. I’d been fighting off wave after wave of sleep all day. When I awoke, I really was feeling dreadful.

As it was almost teatime, I cut myself a slice of chocolate cake and put a dollop of home-made ice cream on it, and then brought it in here. That’s my tea for tonight and, once more, it really is excellent. I’m quite pleased with how the cake has turned out.

So now that my notes are finished, I’m off to bed, hoping for a good night’s sleep, but I doubt it.

The heating is turned up full in here tonight as I’m freezing cold, I’m coughing like never before, a streaming cold and non-stop sneezing. At least, in bed I can keep warm, and I’ll stay in bed for as long as it takes. I really am feeling quite dreadful right now;

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my cake … "well, one of us has" – ed … a man walking on a beach finds a magic lamp and gives it a rub. Suddenly, a genie appears.
"You have liberated me from my prison" said the genie. "I shall grant you three wishes."
"First, I’d like a motor yacht on a trailer"
"No problem" said the genie. He waves his wand and a motor yacht on a trailer appears.
"Now I would like a million Pounds" said the man.
"No problem" said the genie. He waves his wand and a million Pounds appears.
"Now I would like to be totally irresistible to women" said the man
"No problem" said the genie. He waves his wand and transforms the man into a chocolate cake.

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Thursday 2nd April 2026 – YET ANOTHER HORRIBLE …

… day today, and I’m totally fed up with these.

The only highlight, I suppose, was the memory of that really nice butternut squash soup and fresh bread that I’d had the previous evening. But not even that lasted very long.

Back in here afterwards, I had my notes to write and a few others of the usual things to do, and I was actually in bed by 23:00, and asleep shortly afterwards.

But again, not for very long. Round about 02:30 I awoke, and then we had a desperate battle to go back to sleep again. I actually didn’t think that I did because I was still awake when the alarm went off at 06:29.

It was another desperate battle to rise to my feet and head off into the bathroom for a good wash and shave, and then into the kitchen for my hot lemon, honey and ginger drink that I take with my medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And to my surprise, I had actually been out and about. And one of the time stamps tells me that I must have gone back to sleep at one point.

There was something last night about some kind of change of history exercises. There were several people involved in this, and the aim was to rewrite the history of certain events if alternative situations had taken place. For some reason, it turned out that it was to do with maths rather than actual history and it involved reworking certain maths questions. There was one girl who was rather slow doing the work but she seemed to have it all correct in the end. One thing was that there were no adults who managed to make it correct.

This is another one of those dreams that seems to relate to nothing at all.

There was also something about splitting the Catholic Church into two. Someone was keen to do this but for some reason, he put the western border down between France and Germany and France and Italy so that Rome ended up in the eastern part of it, which was a most unusual situation, but I can’t remember the rest of this now.

We did, in the early Medieval times, have Christianity split into two, the Catholic Church centred on Rome and the Eastern Orthodox Church centred on Constantinople. Although Constantinople has long gone, the Eastern Orthodox Church still carries on, mainly in the Balkans and in Russia. But I can imagine the outcry if someone decided to include Rome and Italy in the Eastern Orthodox Church.

When the alarm went off, there was something about a memory, and certain memory tests that were being taken but everything evaporated the moment the alarm went off and I can’t remember any more.

So obviously, I must have been asleep when the alarm went off, despite what I was thinking.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual, in her “chat mode” and we had a little discussion about nothing very much at all. After she left, I could make breakfast and read some more of THE ROMAN FORT AT BALMUILDY on the Antonine Wall, written by Stewart Napier Miller.

The Antonine Wall was only occupied for about twenty or so years, yet already Miller has uncovered two different periods of major destruction of parts of the fort. I’m not sure as yet what his conclusions will be, but it does seem to indicate that things were rather warm on the northern border.

Back in here, I had things to do, and then I edited two lots of additional notes for the joining tracks of two radio programmes. So now, those programmes are complete and ready to go at some point in the future. There was even time for a little “relax”.

However, I awoke in time for my cleaner to apply my anaesthetic and then I had to wait for my taxi, which was fifteen minutes late.

My arrival at dialysis seemed to be fortunate because at that moment, there was a gap in the patients arriving, so I was seen to quite quickly. But to my horror, I seemed to have put on three litres of fluid to be removed – the highest for ages.

This is something that I don’t understand. I’m controlling my liquid intake very closely and my visits to the … errr … smallest room have if anything been more frequent of late. So what’s going on? The doctors were so concerned that they instructed the nurse to set the machine at two litres and remove the rest the next time. That is, if there isn’t another ridiculous weight gain.

And because of that, there were constant interruptions, checking my blood pressure every fifteen minutes, and I couldn’t even go to sleep as the nurses would shake me awake, for fear that I’d gone into a fainting fit. All in all, it was a horrible session there today.

The taxi was waiting for me and there wasn’t much traffic on the roads so we had a quick drive home, where my faithful cleaner was waiting to help me into the apartment.

But by now, I was totally exhausted. I warmed up the rest of the butternut squash soup and sat down to eat it, but after five minutes, well over half of it went into the bin, followed by the bread, and I came in here.

All that I did was to type out a terse note on the blog and then I crawled into bed, fully clothed. It was just 20:20.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about The Antonine Wall … "well, one of us has" – ed … I was telling a friend that it reminded me of that well-known Biblical ice-cream company.
"Which one was that?" she asked
"Walls of Jericho" I replied.

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