… said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s pointless going to bed early, because all that it means is that I awaken correspondingly early the next morning.
So last night, having had a quick, ready-made tea and with nothing much to say for myself … "makes a change" – ed … I was able to finish everything off at some kind of respectable time, like 21:55, and I was in bed about twenty minutes later.
Not only that, I was fast asleep quite quickly too despite the wracking cough and the stabbing pain in my foot, and there I lay until all of … errr … 02:30. And that, dear reader, was that.
Well, not exactly, to be honest. I did manage to fall asleep again round about 04:30 but only for about 30 minutes. I lay there for another half-hour trying my best to go back to sleep, but in the end, I abandoned the idea and left the bed.
Taking full advantage of the early start, I dictated the radio notes for no fewer than three radio programmes that were in the pipeline. I’d even managed to edit one of them by the time the alarm sounded.
When the alarm sounded, I headed off into the bathroom for a superficial wash (because I’ll be showering later) and then wandered off 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 I was surprised to find that, despite the short night, I had actually managed to go travelling.
As Europe prepares for imminent war, this dream is not as far-fetched as it may seem. As well as that, I’ve been deliberately steering clear of commenting on the state of current events because there is much more going to be going on in the very near future, but it’s interesting to recap on something that I WROTE IN MAY 2005 that is likely to come to pass in the very near future.
This was actually a project of mine for down on the farm when I finally had my big stove installed on the ground floor. However, we never managed to make it that far. But it would be interesting indeed if some fifteenth- and sixteenth-century Africans had developed flexible copper piping.
My house at Gainsborough Road was at a junction of roads that led to four different schools so there were always kids and parents going past. The motorbike was interesting too – five litres on two wheels! But how many times is this now that I’ve been walking without my crutches during the night?
Isabelle the Nurse came by this morning to start her round. She was dressed as a leopard today, furry jacket and spotted slacks. We had a brief chat and then she pushed off, leaving me to my breakfast and A ROMAN FRONTIER POST AND ITS PEOPLE
Today, we’ve moved on beyond armour and are discussing weapons. James Curle has identified some of the swords as being of Celtic origin and believes that this indicates that a cohort of native mercenaries was recruited to swell the numbers in the garrison.
On the other hand, it could equally mean that it was Celtic warriors from Galloway who actually attacked the fort and drove out the Romans, causing them to flee to Hadrian’s Wall in round about 120 AD.
Back here, I revised for my Welsh and then went for my lesson. It was another one that passed quite well, due to the amount of preparation that I’d done. I wish that I could persevere and do this all the time.
When my faithful cleaner appeared, she shooed me into the bathroom for a shower, so I’m a nice, clean boy now. And then I had to pack up and wrap the computer that I’m sending back to my online retailer, mainly because it was so late arriving.
Once my cleaner had left, I attacked the next radio programme whose notes I’d dictated earlier. That’s now finished and ready to go, and there was even time to make a start on the next one.
Tea was the last of the leek, potato and mushroom soup, which I had with some bread out of the freezer. It was followed by Christmas cake, which still seems to be going strong. Not much left now, and then I can go back to the jam roly-poly and the spotted dick.
But right now, I’m off to bed again, hoping for a better night tonight, although I doubt it very much with this cough, this pain in my foot and now my nose that’s streaming like a tap again.
But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about kids going to school … "well, one of us has" – ed … I once heard a story about someone who refused to go.
When his mother asked him why, he replied "I don’t want to go to school. All the kids hate me, all the teachers hate me, all the dinner ladies hate me, the gardener and the secretary hate me, and even Norah the Nit-Nurse hates me. In fact, everyone hates me<"
"Look dear" said his mother, soothingly. "You have to go to school"
"Give me one good reason why."
"Well, dear, You ARE the Headmaster."
