… hour after my cleaner had my kitchen looking as clean and tidy as a new pin, it’s ended up looking like an absolute tip yet again.

And that’s no surprise because I’ve had a huge delivery of supplies from LeClerc.

More than usual because it’s been three weeks since I last had a delivery, and add to that, they had the olive oil back in so to be on the safe side I ordered two litres rather than just one.

There was also yet another addition to the range of vegan products on offer at the home delivery site – a second type of vegan sausage. I had to order a packet because LeClerc’s vegan range is quite minimalist so they need to be encouraged. And the easiest way too encourage them is to buy the product.

It all comes in brown paper bags which I have to save up and hand back the following time otherwise they charge me for them, so they are strewn about the place at the moment. But that’s because I simply run out of steam after a while and can’t carry on. I’ll have to finish tidying up in the morning.

And hope that I have as good a sleep tonight as I did last night. It was horribly late when I finally made it to bed but I slept the Sleep of the Dead and didn’t feel a thing until the alarm went off. And I could do with a few more nights with a sleep as deep as that.

There was in fact a phantom alarm at some point (we seem to be back with those) but I remember recognising it as such and ignoring it. Not like the time a few weeks ago when I actually arose from the Dead for a phantom alarm.

But when the real alarm sounded I made it to my feet and wandered off for a wash and brush up etc.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night and (more importantly) who had come with me. It was the European Cup matches. All of the teams were busy, there had been lots of changes to styles and formats. The new competitions, new rules and everything that people had to learn. Teams were changing place and changing position . There were a lot of other things to do, rather like instead of just being a football match it became some kind of circus with all kinds of entertainment taking place before and afterwards, and different things at half-time with the aim to get as many people as possible into the ground as early as they could to avoid crushes and squashes , things like that, to make sure that everyone was safe, and something to do at the end of the game so that they didn’t all rush home and clog the streets, and here’s hoping that it works and makes a huge success and the teams can go on to do well in it.

Times are changing rapidly and quite often these football club committees of elderly dinosaurs aren’t changing quickly enough. I’ve been to football matches in Belgium where they’ve had cheerleaders and dancing girls entertaining the crowds before the kick-off and at half time, and seen kids’ football tournaments taking place at half-time. Anything to bring in the crowds and keep the fans amused. But it’s the simple thing at grassroots level that’s important. If I want to watch a football match and it’s raining and one ground has covered accommodation and one doesn’t, where will I go? And if it’s a cold winter night and one ground has a pie hut where you can get a hot coffee and the other one doesn’t, which one will have my custom? The days of fans standing on cinder banks in the open air in a torrential downpour dressed in just an overcoat are long gone. And good riddance. I don’t miss the “good old days” one minute.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment Isabelle the nurse came round, her usual cheerful self. She gave me my injection, changed my plasters on my legs and bandaged up my puttees.

There’s a blood test tomorrow morning, so she reminded me, and I need to give “another sample” for which she gave me a small pot.

But heaven alone knows what this blood sample will be like. I haven’t looked at the last couple. Firstly, they make really depressing reading and secondly, what can I do anyway? If there’s an emergency they’ll let me know. If not, I’d rather not find out.

After she left, we had some Welsh homework to do. We had to write a publicity announcement to attract tourists to the place where we are living. It was easy for me, living in a tourist town. Imagine if I’d still been living in The Land That Time Forgot.

The Welsh lesson passed quite quickly today. We had a different tutor and I’m sure that I have had him before somewhere.

We had a little chat about last night’s football

"My friend’s son plays for Caernarfon" said the tutor
"What’s his name?"
"Morgan" replied the tutor
"Morgan who?"
"I don’t know" said the tutor "but he delivers our fruit and veg. We call him ‘Morgan Tatws’"
and that’s the most Welsh thing that I’ve heard for a long, long time.

And if you want to see “Morgan Tatws” in action HERE ARE THE HIGHLIGHTS of the Cofis’ famous first-leg win. Let’s hope that they can hold out in the second leg next week.

Towards the end of the lesson I slipped out of consciousness and hadn’t noticed that it had ended. I came to and found myself staring at an empty screen. I really have to do better than this.

The cleaner was here too. I’d heard her come in but she must have been very quiet. Actually, she’s cleaned the windows in the living room and you can actually see outside now which is nice.

After she left, the delivery guy from LeClerc turned up with the supplies. Tons of stuff all of which has to be put away.

And then there was 1kg of carrots to wash, peel, dice and blanch. I should have bought 2kg but there’s no room on the freezer.

There were peppers to prepare for freezing, other food for freezing and, as I said, in the end I simply ran aground. I can’t keep on going like I used to

Tea was the leftover curry that I should have had on Wednesday but have been putting off ever since. The naan bread that I was going to eat was looking rather suspect so that went into the bin which was a shame because I’d been looking forward to that.

Tomorrow I have the washing machine to organise and then I’ll finish off tje tidying up. But it’s nice to have full shelves again, and plenty of olive oil

In fact, I’ve plenty to do between now and going to the hospital on Tuesday. And I’m not looking forward to Tuesday one little bit as I’m sure that regular reader readers of this rubbish will recall
The last time I was admitted, the cry went down the ward "there’s a case of cancer just come in"
And someone was heard to comment "well, it’ll make a change from lucozade"