… better night than some have been just recently. In fact, I had a really good sleep once, and the waves of fatigue didn’t come until early evening. And I was ready to fight them off too, which makes a change.
Last night, being back here later than some have been just recently after my evening meal, I ended up being rather later than usual going to bed. The dictaphone notes didn’t take too long to complete, and neither did everything else afterwards either, but I really do wonder where the time goes these days because by the time that I crawled into bed, it was about 22:10.
That is, of course, earlier than my curfew time of 22:30, which is the whole point of doing what I’m doing right now, but I’d still like to be in bed earlier than that if I could.
It took much longer to go to sleep than usual, something that seems to be becoming a habit these days, but once I went to sleep, I slept right through to some ungodly time when I had to go to stroll the parapet, something else that seems to be becoming a habit these days too.
Whatever time it was at that point, I have no idea because I couldn’t be bothered to look. But it was still fairly early because the hot water heater hadn’t switched on at that point.
Back in bed, I went almost straight away back to sleep, and although I have some kind of vague memory of waking up at some point, I was flat out, dead to the World when the alarm went off at 06:29.
It took the usual extreme amount of effort to force myself to my feet and into the bathroom, and I ended up being rather late into the kitchen. But never mind. I made my hot lemon, ginger and honey drink, took my medication and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.
This dream seems to be about nothing that has occurred just recently, although the radio programmes might have some distant bearing on it. As for the theatres, I’ve no idea where they fit in at all. I was reading something yesterday that, in Wales, the school meals allowance payable to schools for their “free meals” programme is the highest in the United Kingdom. But apart from that, I don’t know.
Presumably, this relates to Caernarfon Town’s victory in the Welsh Cup Final on Sunday. But as for Cardiff Met, they are languishing safely, but still near the bottom of the Welsh Premier League. They aren’t having a very good season but occasionally, they can come up with a surprising result or two. For example, a couple of months ago, they beat perennial champions TNS in the league, and then blow me up … "down" – ed … if a few days later, they didn’t do it again, knocking TNS out of the Cup and paving the way for the Cofis to go on and win it.
Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual but although she was in chat mode, she didn’t really have a lot to say of any importance. But I’m not complaining because it’s nice to hear another voice in here other than my own.
After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.
Today, he remarks, apart from the usual quotes from “Richard of Cirencester”, that "the mortar … strikes the ordinary observer by its extreme strength and durability; he will break with much greater ease the stones with which the wall is faced than the mortar which holds them together. As we find it in Britain, the Roman mortar is generally composed of lime, pounded tiles, sand, and grave"
So Thomas Wright has had his first introduction to Roman concrete. The Romans were big users of concrete in their constructions but the art had been lost after they left. Although John Smeaton had rediscovered some of the art and had built his famous lighthouse on the Eddystone Rocks using “pebbles and powdered brick as aggregate”, according to The History of Concrete, its use was relatively unknown outside a very small circle of engineers at that time.
But as for the art being lost, we have so far in our various books that a great many arts were lost after the Romans left. So I’m still convinced that there was an element of ethnic cleansing once the Saxons arrived.
After breakfast, I came back in here and had a few more things to do. And then I attacked the radio programme that I intended to prepare.
And despite a disgusting drink break, I still managed to complete everything by about 17:00. I even managed to start the next one too, but I was dismayed to find that I hadn’t in fact found all of the music that I needed and had to start the hunt again.
By the time that I knocked off for tea, I reckoned that I’d found everything at last, and so I can make a start tomorrow before dialysis. But I bet that there’s still something that I’ve forgotten.
For tea, I had my first real protein meal for two weeks. It was vegan bangers, mash and baked beans with cheese. And it was totally delicious – so much so that I could eat it again.
At least, in principle. I had rather too much on my plate again so, just like last night, I eschewed my chocolate cake and home-made ice cream.
So with all of that out of the way, I’m going to bed, hoping for an even better night tonight than last night … "he’ll be lucky" – ed …
But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about concrete … "well, one of us has" – ed … two concrete slabs walk into a bar.
"We are the hardest in this town" says one of them. "No-one can even come near us."
Just then, a slab of tarmac walks into the bar, and the two concrete slabs hide under the table.
"I thought that you said that you were the hardest in town" said the bartender. "Why did you hide under the table from a piece of tarmac?"
"Oh him, yes, but he’s an absolute cyclepath."
