Tag Archives: bouquet granvillais

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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Monday 6th March 2026 – I HOPE THAT …

…you all had a very happy Easter and that the Easter Bunny was very generous to you. As for me, I’ve finished all my hot cross buns, regrettably, but I still have plenty of chocolate cake and the new batch of homemade chocolate ice cream to go at.

In fact, the chocolate cake and the last helping of the first batch of home-made ice cream were delicious. And once more, that’s all that I’m having for tea because, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … sleep for me is much more important right now than food. And you know that I’m ill if I’m thinking like that. It’s not like me to turn my back on a good meal.

And sleep I need too, after last night. I was back in here at about 20:30 yesterday evening after clearing up and doing the washing-up, and then I sat down to write my notes.

By the time that I’d finished, done everything else that needed doing and sorted myself out, I was in bed just a minute or two after 22:00, looking for the good night’s sleep and lie-in that I had promised myself.

However, regular readers of this rubbish will recall what happens at times like this. Just like the other night, I had to go to stroll the parapet, and not once but twice. The first time was at 01:20, which seems to be a popular time for me to awaken, and the second time was, would you believe, 06:29 exactly.

The first time, I managed to go back to sleep but the second time, no such luck. I needn’t have bothered trying for a lie-in at all. Nevertheless, I stayed there in bed until the alarm went off at 07:30.

The alarm going off is one thing – leaving the bed is quite something else. And by the time I’d been into the bathroom for a good wash and shave, there wasn’t much time for anything else as Isabelle the Nurse arrived.

She chatted on about nothing in particular, happy because, presumably, she’s off on her week’s break this evening, and after she left, I could make breakfast.

There went my last two delicious hot cross buns this morning, just as did HISTORIA BRITTONUM by Nennius. It didn’t take long to read, and I can’t say that I’m sorry either. I didn’t enjoy it at all. However, the genealogy tables in there were fantastic works of fiction. It seems that every person in Europe is a descendant of Woden, according to Nennius.

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

There was something going on in a recording studio about writing and recording songs relating to certain incidents, such as some old woman who was bedridden and who only used to eat bread, etc. On several occasions, there was a choice of perhaps two or three subjects where people in the studio had to write a song on one of them, but it was all very confusing, all of this. I was asked to write a song on one particular subject, but it was one of those subjects that I couldn’t face so I decided not to

Just recently, I seem to have been spending a lot of time in a recording studio. It’s probably due to all of these radio programmes.

And seeing as we have been talking about radio programmes … "well, one of us has" – ed … after I’d finished the things that I usually have to do in the morning, I reviewed this weekend’s radio programme and sent it off for inclusion in the stream.

With that out of the way, I attacked the next radio programme on the list … "see what he means" – ed … It’s going to be another concert, and once again, the soundtrack is going to be complicated to prepare. I’ve done a “first pass” already but it’s going to be amended on several occasions, I reckon, before it’s ready to go.

My faithful cleaner turned up as usual to apply my anaesthetic, and then I had to await the taxi. I didn’t have to wait long because he was early and caught me unawares while I was … errr … otherwise engaged. However, it was the young, chatty guy and we had a nice, pleasant drive down to Sartilly to pick up someone else on our way to Avranches.

Having set out early, we arrived early at dialysis, but that counts for nothing if you arrive at the same time as four others just ahead of you with only two nurses on duty. Consequently, I was no earlier being attended to.

And having read about the times that I have … errr … been for a gipsy’s just recently, just as towards the end of last week when we had all of that rumpus at dialysis about my weight, I’m convinced that the scales were wrong that Thursday. Today, I clocked in at UNDER my dry weight.

Nevertheless, I made them take out 500 grammes so that I can be ahead next time. But I’ll keep on going as I am, with just breakfast and chocolate cake for now, until I’m sure that it’s all properly under control and I’m not as tired as I currently am.

With everyone arriving all at once, everyone needed unplugging at the same time. And being last in, I was last out, after something of a wait, so I was no earlier arriving home.

My cleaner helped me in, and after she left, I had my chocolate and ice cream and then did the washing up. And now that I’ve finished my notes, there are just a few things to do and then I’m hoping for a better night than last night.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my … errr … problems during the night … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the two old men in the urology clinic.
The first man asks the second "why are you here?"
"I have this terrible problem" he replied. "I don’t seem to be able to manage to … errr … go to the bathroom these days."
"I don’t have that problem" replied the other. "Every morning at 07:00, as regular as clockwork, every day, I have no trouble at all."
"So why are you here then?"
"I don’t wake up until 07:30."

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Sunday 5th April 2026 – YET ANOTHER NIGHT …

… when I’m going to bed without any tea, except, of course, a slice of my home-made chocolate cake and a helping of home-made ice cream

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I’m valuing my sleep much more than I’m valuing my food right now, and that’s not like me at all, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall.

You wouldn’t think that I’d had a decent lie-in last night. As usual, things rather dragged and it ended up being just after 22:00 when I went to bed. Never mind though, at least I could have a decent sleep.

That’s what I thought, anyway, but as you might expect, it didn’t work out like that. I awoke on a couple of occasions and once, round about 05:30, I thought that I would never go to go back to sleep.

However, I must have done at some point because, when the doorbell rang, I was so far out of it that I thought “who the heck is this waking me up at this time?” and I was half out of bed before I realised that it was Isabelle the Nurse. I had to dive quickly back under the covers and pretend to be asleep for when she came in here.

She was her usual chatty self, which is something that I don’t really need, early on a Sunday morning. But after she left, I could turn over and go back to sleep.

Eventually, I awoke and once I’d managed to stand up, which was not easy, I headed off into the bathroom to sort myself out. It was a respectable 09:40 when I arrived in the kitchen. No medication this morning except the urgent stuff. I simply made breakfast, including more of my delicious hot cross buns.

We started a new book today too. It’s HISTORIA BRITTONUM, written by Nennius in the tenth century. It’s a book with probably the most obsequious introduction that I have ever read, and it’s also one of the most inaccurate, although it’s one of the first to mention Arthur, even if it doesn’t describe him as a king.

The translation dates from 1838 and it contains one of the most glorious mistranslations that I have ever seen. How it passed the proof-readers, I really don’t know. Our translator tells us that "St. Germanus, after his death, returned into his own country". That would have been interesting to witness.

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

When I awoke, round about 00:44, I was busy working on planning a radio programme about some kind of index. It was importing likely songs into it but at the moment that I awoke, I was puzzling over what name to give to the file. That was the point that I reached when I awoke.

Usually, I can think of a really good name for my files, but most often, it’s about ten minutes after I’ve already named them and backed them up. But this actually relates to a discussion I was having on Friday with one of my regular readers, who was talking about my database. Actually, I keep an index in a series of text files and in an Open Office spreadsheet under the rather prosaic name of “Playlist”.

There was also some more about something from the other night. They had managed to identify the cowling of that ice cream lorry and had prepared one in plastic and sent it to him to fit himself. In the meantime, they were still making enquiries about that project that was discussed the other day but they hadn’t as yet made very much progress.

Now, I wonder to which dream this relates. I can see the cowling now – it’s off a Leyland FG-550 and it’s green – but this dream and the one to which it refers still don’t ring any bells with me now that I’m awake.

I was down in Virlet last night with Nerina. We were sorting out a few things down there with someone else. Then this other person left and we decided to leave too. Nerina climbed into her car, which was a blue Ford Classic … "it was actually a Ford Corsair" – ed …, and I locked up the house. As I approached Nerina’s car, she let out the clutch and moved off about fifty yards, so I walked along towards the car, and she did this on several occasions. I thought “what on earth is the matter with her?”. So we carried on like this, but then the next-door neighbour arrived in a kind of horse box. Just as I was about to go out of sight round a corner, a little boy shouted after me “mister, mister”. I turned round and he said that their house was on fire, so I immediately ran down there and asked them if they had a hose, which they hadn’t, so I went into the barn. They followed me in, and they were amazed by the three cars that were in there that dated to the 1930s and early 1940s. I was rummaging around looking for the hose, and I found it and plugged it into the tap, but it was very short. I thought that I had much more hose than this, so I had a search around and I found another length. It still wasn’t very long so I began to look around outside. Nerina was there by this time, and she pointed out a hose that was lying on the ground underneath some wood. I went to fetch it, but it was the wrong connection. In the meantime, no fire brigade had turned up, no ambulance, no police or anything, so I asked them if they had ‘phoned the fire brigade. They replied “you have a decent-looking pushbike there. Why don’t you ride into the village and tell the mayor?”. Although the pushbike might be decent, which it probably wasn’t, I was in no healthy state to get on a bike and cycle up and down a few mountains, so I carried on looking for this hose.

This wasn’t the Virlet that I know. In fact, I’ve no idea where it might be. And I can imagine Nerina driving off as I approached the car. In fact, I did that one with Laurence but she didn’t notice and climbed into the car that had pulled up behind.

The garage with the old cars is the same one that appeared in a dream several weeks ago, but down in the Auvergne, there would be no problem about hosepipes as I have miles of the stuff.

When I’d finished, there was a footfest. Firstly, Stranraer fighting to a 1-1 draw with Dumbarton, followed by Greenock Morton throwing away a one-goal lead to go down 3-1 away to Dunfermline Athletic.

After that, I attacked the radio notes for the next programme. And by the time that I’d finished, I’d prepared and assembled the two halves of the programme, chosen the joining track and written the notes for it.

That’s three radio programmes that I’ve assembled this weekend. That’s some good going, and I wish that I could do it every weekend.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall exactly what happened after this. And for over an hour too. And when I finally did return to the Land of the Living, I couldn’t move for a good fifteen minutes. As I said earlier, it’s hard to believe that I had a lie-in this morning.

In the kitchen, I made a loaf of bread. Not a pizza, because as I said a little earlier, I’m valuing my sleep more than I’m valuing my food right now. And the loaf is cooked to perfection. I hope that it will taste as nice as it looks.

While it was baking, I washed up everything and then had my chocolate cake with home-made ice cream. The pudding was delicious as usual.

So right now, I’m going to sort myself out and go to bed. And as well as that, seeing as it’s a Bank Holiday tomorrow, I’m going to set the alarm to 07:30 and have an extra hour in bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about house fires … "well, one of us has" – ed … there were two men sitting on a pier in the Bahamas quietly fishing.
Neither of them actually looked like the flashy type so the first one asked the second "How come you managed to come here?"
"I had a house fire and I lost absolutely everything" he replied. "But the insurance company was very generous and paid me for everything."
"It’s pretty much the same story for me" replied the first man "except that it was a flood that wiped me out."
"Blimmin’ ‘eck!" said the second man. "However did you manage to start a flood?"

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Saturday 4th April 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone again from last night. That tells you just how deep my sleep must have been.

And I needed it too. I’d been exhausted all day and as the evening went on, it went from bad to worse. With no tea again, apart from a slice of my delicious chocolate cake with home-made ice cream, I’d finished everything by 21:30 and by 21:45 I was tucked up in bed with my head buried under the quilt, and I went straight to sleep.

However, regular readers of this rubbish will recall what happens every time I have an early night. And round about 01:20 too. But this time it was for reasons that any person of my age will understand, and I was obliged to leave the bed.

Once I climbed back in, I was asleep almost straight away and that’s how I remained until the alarm went off at 06:29. And surprisingly, I was in exactly the same position in the bed as I had been when I went to sleep. I can’t have moved a single muscle during all that time.

It took an age for me to summon up the courage and energy to leave the bed, and what with a clothes-washing session too, I was hours late going into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication.

There was also a task that I had to carry out while I was in the kitchen. As I said yesterday, Isabelle the Nurse and I had had a discussion about hot cross buns, and she had asked me if I had a recipe. And so, taking the book in which I write down all of my recipes, I wrote out the recipe for her, ready for when she arrives.

Back in here, with no dictaphone notes to transcribe, I had a few other things to do. And while I was doing them, I discovered that the attendance at the game between Colwyn Bay and Caernarfon attracted a crowd of 2357. That was higher than the average gate of Accrington Stanley in League Two and higher than eight games in League Two in March.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual and was grateful for the recipe. We had the usual chat about nothing at all, and 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.

In fact, read all of it because it’s now finished. And my assumption about the attacks by the natives on the fort are confirmed by his assumptions. He can, in fact, name two periods when the destruction was likely. The first being an invasion from the north that occurred, according to some contemporary writers, in 155 AD and another one being an attack some time later that prompted the evacuation of the Antonine Wall and the retreat to that of Hadrian.

So tomorrow, I’ll be starting a new book, if I wake up, which at this moment appears to be extremely unlikely.

As for my breakfast, my hot cross buns were excellent again, even if they are somewhat over-baked. In future, I’ll cook them at 180°C, regardless of what the recipe says.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, such as to watch the highlights of last night’s matches in the JD Cymru League, and then I attacked the next lot of notes for a future radio programme. And now, the two halves of the programme are complete, the joining track has been chosen and the notes written, ready for the next dictating session, whenever that might be.

And it might have been finished a long time beforehand, had I not fallen asleep for well over an hour round about midday.

After all of that I went into the bathroom and went one better than Dave Crosby, probably because I had the ‘flu for Christmas, and right now, I’m definitely not feeling up to par.

Later on, I went into the kitchen to make some more ice cream.

This time, it’s based on some chocolate milk with coconut cream, and by the time that it’s finished, it will have a stream of mint syrup running through it.

And I remembered my mistake about the cornflour when I made my first batch. This time, I heated half of the milk and added the cornflour into it to thicken it. When it cooled, nice and thick, I added it into the rest of the milk, and it seemed (to date) to have worked.

There was plenty of time left after that, and regular readers of this rubbish will recall a project that I mentioned on thirteenth of March or thereabouts, so I concentrated for a few hours on continuing that. It’s not going to be finished for ages, if at all because it’s an enormous piece of work, and it will take me forever, bearing the time that I have available.

Mind you, this is another one of those things where I could have done much more had I not fallen asleep at one point. In fact, I’ve been fighting off wave after wave of sleep all day, quite unsuccessfully at times. You wouldn’t think that I had had such a good sleep last night.

While I was having a little doze during the late afternoon, there had been a snowplough with a blade and rotating brush at the front and a salt spreader at the back, working the Trans-Labrador Highway. It came to a fast-food or coffee place and actually drove inside to clean up the inside of the building, especially the area in front of and behind the counter.

Part of the things that I have been doing today did include a discussion about the Trans-Labrador Highway and MY FIRST TRIP AROUND THERE IN 2010. And there was a discussion about snowploughs, although not cleaning out a Tim Horton’s or one of those places that was found by a High Court judge to be "guilty of exploitative marketing to children, some animal cruelty, anti-union practices, low pay, and misleading health claims.".

Anyway, that’s enough of that. These waves of fatigue have been doing me in all day and it’s surprising that I’ve accomplished as much as I have done. And so, I’m going to go to bed.

Once more, I’ve had no tea except for a lump of cake with some home-made ice cream. I’m more interested in sleep and trying to keep my weight down for dialysis rather than eating right now, although I won’t say “no” to my cake.

And in any case, with a lie-in tomorrow … "he hopes" – ed … tonight is a good night for an early night, so I shan’t hang about. I’ll go back into the kitchen and give the new ice cream a good forking, and that will be that.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my home-made ice cream … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends asked me "where did you actually learn to make ice cream?"
"Simple" I replied. "When I was small, I used to go to Sundae School. "

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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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Wednesday 1st April 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone this morning when I awoke.

Not that that was any surprise. Leaving aside the question of these new medicaments that Emilie the Cute Consultant prescribed for me, if you don’t go to bed until 23:30 and you awaken at 04:00, there’s not a lot of time to go anywhere, is there?

Yes, it was another late night last night. For some reason or other, tea last night took ages to cook and consequently, I was quite late finishing. And then with the writing of the notes and everything else that I have to do, we ended up finishing much later than I had hoped.

Once in my nice, clean bed, I was hoping for a really good sleep. And for the first part of the night, that was what I had. Asleep quite quickly and not moving a muscle at all. However, it all went wrong at 04:00 when I awoke.

For quite a while, I stayed with my head tucked firmly under the quilt, nice and comfortable, but after about an hour, I began to think of all of the things that I could be doing instead.

Consequently, I managed … "eventually" – ed … to crawl out of bed and take my place at the computer.

And by the time that the alarm went off, I had dictated no fewer than five sets of radio notes. That was a good morning’s work, especially as there are only now a handful left to do.

When I’d finished, I crawled into the bathroom to sort myself out and then went into the kitchen for the hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I checked the dictaphone and then occupied myself with a few tasks to keep me busy.

Isabelle the Nurse arrived as usual and sorted out my legs and feet. She didn’t have much to say for herself today, which is not like her. After she left, I could make breakfast and make a start on the new book.

It’s called THE ROMAN FORT AT BALMUILDY on the Antonine Wall, written by Stewart Napier Miller and concerns the excavations in 1912-1914 of a Roman fort on the Antonine Wall that ran between the Forth and the Clyde in Scotland.

Its ruins were always visible up to about 1820 or so when it was quarried for its stone. With its existence being threatened by the expansion of Glasgow, it was decided in 1912 to excavate it to recover what might be lost. The excavations finished in 1914 when Miller was mobilised into the Army at the start of World War I.

Back in here afterwards, I sat down at my desk, and the next thing that I remembered, it was 11:27. I’d fallen asleep yet again and had been out like a light for a little over two hours. That was a huge disappointment because I had so much to do today, and I thought that, by and large, I’d overcome these rather dramatic crash-outs.

Then again, I suppose that with only four and a half hours sleep during the night, I’d have to catch up on it somehow, some time. So with not having much time to hang around, I immediately attacked the radio programme that I’d been preparing.

There was a deadline for this today – 16:00 for reasons that you will soon find out. And despite a pause for a disgusting drink, by 16:00, I’d chosen all of the music, remixed and re-edited it all, paired and segued it, end even written all of the notes for it. That was probably the quickest radio programme that I’ve ever prepared, and I wish that I could do them all as quickly as this.

At 16:00 I went into the kitchen.

The first task was to make some bread baps – four of them. Two of them were destined for this evening and the other two for tomorrow evening.

While they were proofing after their first knead, I melted a bar of cooking chocolate over an ad-hoc bain marie with a little water. When it had all melted, I put it on one side to cool, and then, when it was cool enough, poured it over the top of my chocolate cake to make a kind of chocolate shell.

That’s going to be my Easter treat and I bet that it will be as sickly as anything. And won’t I enjoy it?

In the meantime, I’d been preparing my butternut squash, scooping out the seeds and filling the holes with garlic and chili. Then drizzling some olive oil over the two halves. The two halves went into the oven to roast, along with an onion and some potatoes.

At some point during all of that, I’d kneaded the dough for the bread rolls and separated it into four equal portions that I then shaped in the form of discuses, which I left to prove again.

When the squash, potatoes and onions were ready, I took them out of the oven and put in the bread rolls. With the squash, potatoes and onions etc, I made a soup using the carrot water that I’d saved from blanching my carrots that I’d ordered from Leclerc.

Once the soup was ready, I whizzed it up, added some plain soya yoghurt and a few handfuls of these little pasta elbows and let it simmer for ten minutes. Half of it then went into my bowl and the other half was put on one side with two of the baps, for tea tomorrow.

And it was absolutely delicious, one of the best soups that I have ever made. And there wasn’t any room for any trifle afterwards either. The soup and bread were quite enough.

And now I’m off to bed. I’ve had a hellish day today. Never mind the crashing out, I’ve been coughing all day, sneezing and I have a streaming head cold, so strong that not even any Vick’s or Olbas Oil can control it. I hope that it all clears up quite quickly because it all gets right on my nerves all of this. As if I don’t have enough problems.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about waking up early … "well, one of us has" – ed … when I was back in Crewe, I used to wake up early quite often, even after only an hour or two of sleep.
One of my friends once asked me "whenever that kind of thing ever happened, did you wake up grumpy? "
"Oh no" I replied. "I always let her sleep in."

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Tuesday 31st March 2026 – WHAT A HORRIBLE …

… day it’s been today. And I don’t mean just this last twenty-one hours, but all twenty-four hours since 21:45 last night.

With having tea – the other half of Sunday’s pizza – already prepared, it didn’t take too long to eat and to come back in here. With not very much to write last night, I’d soon finished. It didn’t take long to do the stats and the backing-up either, or to sort myself out ready for bed. As a result, at 21:45, I was crawling into bed under the covers.

And how much sleep do you think that I had?

One of the side effects of one of the medicaments prescribed by Emilie the Cute Consultant is “insomnia”. Ad as I have enough trouble sleeping already, it doesn’t take much more for me to have what the French call a nuit blanche – a night where you don’t go to sleep at all.

So there I was, head tucked under the quilt, tossing and turning, doing in-bed physiotherapy and all kinds of things, but sleep just never came and I lay there awake all night.

When the alarm went off, I managed to haul myself out of bed, but it took a good while for me to find the strength, courage and energy to stagger off into the bathroom.

In the kitchen, I made my hot drink and took my medication and then came back in here to see if there was anything on the dictaphone. And, to my surprise, there was too. I must have gone to sleep at some point during the night.

There was something about the Royal Navy last night. It was supposed to be fitting out a ship but for some reason, the finishing time was being delayed for an hour here and an hour there and an hour something else and no-one was actually catching up with it. Then there was an explosion in Portsmouth harbour as one of the British battleships spontaneously combusted. It threw metal and everything all over the town. Everyone on board, including a load of sea cadets, were killed. That wasn’t the only catastrophe that happened to the Royal Navy. There were two ships on blockade duty off the coast of Belgium, and they somehow managed to collide with each other.

What the boat is doing being fitted out in my dreams, I don’t know. But the story of the exploding battleship reminds me of THE MONT BLANC – an ammunition ship that exploded in Halifax harbour after a collision, taking half of the town and half of its population with it in its way to the hereafter.

Whether that’s the reference to the collision or not, I wouldn’t know, but ships on blockade duty colliding with each other was a regular occurrence.

I was living in a small village where the highlights of the occasion were things like people ringing up the police saying that someone’s goat is free, things like that. And if you were to go into the police station, you would usually find the police officers asleep, slumped over the desk. Where we were living, there was something about someone with some kind of music list and when I was twelve, I reported it to the police for some kind of reason that wasn’t clear. I don’t really know what happened after that.

This sounds like several villages in which I’ve lived at one time or another, although I wouldn’t be the type of person to report anyone to the police.

But it does remind me of a sign that I saw once in Fredericton, New Brunswick, that read “on this day in” … (some year or other) “nothing happened”.

Isabelle the Nurse breezed in, all happy and relaxed after her week’s rest, much of which was spent with her daughter in Paris. I told her about my encounters with Emilie the Cute Consultant and the pills that she’s prescribed for me. She asked about the cough, so I explained that they were trying to sort out a thoracic scan and an appointment with a lung specialist.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, we’ve been working through the story of Anna Komnena, daughter of the Byzantine Emperor Alexios Komnenos. She wrote a biography of her father, which is said to be a fascinating eyewitness account of the Byzantine Emperor and the goings-on therein during the period 1081 – 1108.

There’s a translation of this into English, dated 1928 and I’ve actually found a copy to download. It will make interesting reading if ever I have the time to read it.

But that’s Miller’s book finished, and I certainly did learn a lot, which is the whole point of reading. Tomorrow we start a new book.

Back in here, I started a couple of things, but the next thing that I knew, it was 11:20. I’d fallen asleep in my chair for about two hours, and I can’t say that I’m at all surprised.

It comes as no surprise either for me to say that after that, I just couldn’t concentrate on anything. Most of my effort went on trying to stay awake.

However, I remixed the soundtrack for the concert that I’m preparing for the radio, and it’s a much better mix than the one that I prepared yesterday. It’s even a couple of minutes longer too, which means that I don’t have to write as much text.

Anyway, the text is all written for it now and I just need to find the time somehow to dictate it. There’s quite a bit building up in the pipeline right now that needs dictating.

There were the usual interruptions too. My faithful cleaner turned up to do her stuff and she chased me into the shower for a good scrub. While I was in there, she changed the bedding so the nice, clean me is going to have a good sleep in a nice, clean bed, if this insomnia has worn off. Which, judging by however many times I’ve almost fallen asleep this evening, it probably has.

There was still some time left at the end of the day, so I tried to prepare the next radio programme but my heart and my head just weren’t in it at all. I managed to make a few notes, but that’s about all. I shall have to do better than this tomorrow.

Tea tonight was a gorgeous bowl full of pasta and veg in a vegan cheese sauce, followed by more trifle. It’s beginning to break up now, the trifle, but it’s still delicious.

And that reminds me, I have to cover the chocolate cake with chocolate sauce.

But that’s tomorrow because right now, I’m off to bed, hoping for a better night than last night.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about ships and collisions at sea … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends was telling me about a ship carrying blue paint that collided with a ship carrying red paint.
"Really?" I asked. "What happened?"
"The survivors were marooned."

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Monday 30th March 2026 – THE GOOD NEWS …

… is that Emilie the Cute Consultant still loves me. Or so she told me this afternoon at dialysis when she came to see me about the new medication.

The not-so-good news is that the pain in my foot is back after having been absent since Wednesday. I suppose that that’s the effect of this new medication wearing off since I took the last batch on Friday. I shall have to take some more tonight before going to bed.

Last night was rather a painless night, except that it was later than I wanted it to be, as usual. It was much closer to 23:00 when I finally crawled into my stinking pit after doing everything that needed doing.

And it was another really mixed night too, with moments of deep sleep followed by moments of turbulent tossing and turning, and so on. One thing for sure though was that when the alarm went off at 06:29, I was in one of the turbulent phases.

As usual, it took an age for me to sort myself out and head to the bathroom, and then into the kitchen for the hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone, and what a miserable effort that was.

There was something about my brother going to convince someone else to do something but it was all extremely vague, and I didn’t remember anything more about it unfortunately

The last time that I changed my medication, the flow of dreams dried up for a while and it looks as if the same thing is happening right now. That’s a shame because, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I depend on my dreams for my excitement. It’s the best that I can do these days.

So with some free time on my hands, I watched the highlights of Sunday’s game between Connah’s Quay Nomads and Y Barri. But there was nothing of any real interest in the match – none of these “let’s play it out from the back, lads” catastrophes that seem to liven up more than just a few of these games.

The nurse turned up as usual, still his cheerful self, no doubt due to the fact that he’s off on his week’s break this evening.

After he left, I made breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, we were discussing the collapse of the Latin Empire in the Holy Land, and as usual, it makes dismal reading, all of these disputes amongst the Crusaders while the Moslem armies are gathering on their borders. How many times is this that the Europeans preferred to fight amongst themselves rather than make common cause against the “enemy”?

Back in here, I had a few things to do, and then I spent an hour revising my Welsh, seeing as we have no course for the next two weeks.

There was even time to start the next radio programme, and I actually made some headway with it too.

My cleaner turned up as usual to sort out my anaesthetic and then I had to wait for the taxi, which was twenty minutes late. There were already two other people on board, but luckily, I was dropped off first.

We were early arriving and, luckily, I was seen to quite quickly. And then they left me alone for most of the session.

As I mentioned earlier, Emilie the Cute Consultant came to see me. She told me that the dry throat was a side effect of one of the medicaments that she had prescribed for me. And she assured me that she still loves me, which was really quite nice. As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, it’s been worrying me for quite a while.

Being plugged in early was one thing. Being unplugged was quite another thing. When four people finish at the same time and there are only two nurses, it’s evident that someone will have to wait. And guess who drew the short straw?

Still, the taxi was waiting for me, but there was someone else to drop off and we became tangled up in roadworks. So it was just as late as it usually is.

My cleaner helped me back into the building, and after she left, I finished off my pizza and had some more trifle.

So now with the pain back in my foot … "and back in spades too" – ed … I’m off to bed for an early night.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Emilie the Cute Consultant … "well, one of us has" – ed … I mentioned that I thought that she didn’t love me any more because of the suicide pills, and how I imagined her sitting at her desk with her fingers crossed.
"That’s not true at all!" she retorted.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yes, it is" she replied. "I’m paid according to the number of patients I treat, and if you die, I’d have to take a pay cut!"

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Sunday 29th March 2026 – THERE IS SOMETHING …

… extremely democratic about sitting down to your breakfast at 11:55. Even though an hour of that was “lost” due to the change to Summer Time, it was still quite impressive, and it shows you just how tired I have been.

What made it even more impressive was that when I was just about to climb into bed, it was 22:28 – two minutes before my ideal curfew time. That’s the advantage of going to bed without any tea – being able to write my notes and do the usual housekeeping without any pressure at all.

Maybe I should try it more often. An early night, plus a session of losing weight for dialysis can’t be bad.

Mind you, the night wasn’t as good as it might have been. I awoke on a couple of occasions and even had to leave the bed at one point to … errr … siphon the python, which is very unusual.

Once more, it was the tail-end of the nurse’s buzzing that awoke me, but I still pretended to be asleep when he came in here. He sorted out my legs and feet without saying too much, and after he left, I went straight back to sleep.

At some point though, I awoke. I’ve no idea what time it was but it took me a good while to bring myself to sit on the edge of the bed, and just as long again before I rose to my feet to stagger off into the bathroom.

It was 11:35 when I made it into the kitchen and by the time that my breakfast was ready and I could sit down to eat it, it was 11:55. Hot black coffee, porridge, and the last of this batch of croissants. Next weekend, I shall, of course, be attacking the somewhat overdone hot cross buns. Overdone they might be, but I bet that they’ll taste just as nice, toasted and with loads of vegan butter.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

We’ve finished the pages on the émigré nobles expelled from their lands to Rome where they were living on a papal allowance of, in some cases, as little as 40 ducats per month, the equivalent of about £1,100 today. That, of course, is hardly enough to keep an exiled nobleman or king in the luxury to which he would like to be accustomed.

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

There was something about a whole new raft of legislation in one of these ancient cities that may well have been Rome. One of the things concerned sending a maid out with the washing. Another thing concerned the heating in these apartments that they used to have, but I can’t really remember any more that this because I awoke at this point.

Collapsed apartment blocks caused by jerry-building and raging fires due to out-of-control wood stoves were a common occurrence in Ancient Rome. In fact, Leonardo III Tocco, Duke of Cephalonia and Despot of Epirus, one of our exiled leaders living in Rome on the Pope’s charity, was killed when his house collapsed on top of him.

I’d enrolled in an online course for something or other and it was time for some kind of class, so I turned up. I was sitting there when someone came in with someone else. She presented him to me and said to him that I was another student from Asia who was doing this course. We had a little chat about how things were, etc. He asked me if I ever had any regrets about leaving the UK. I replied “none at all”. He asked “do you find a lot of people surprised when you tell them where you live?”. I replied that I didn’t talk to a lot of people these days. His next question was “did you ever regret the days a long time ago when people who went to live abroad were envied rather than criticised?”. I replied “I don’t really regret anything but I haven’t really encountered that kind of feeling. However, if it exists, I think that it’s down to pure jealousy rather than anything else. I think that a lot of people would up sticks and move to the continent if they could, on their account”.

Not that I’ve ever lived, or even been to Asia, but no matter where I am, I have no regrets whatever about leaving the UK. And it’s strange, but the majority of my closest friends are also British people who have moved to mainland Europe. Birds of a feather flock together, so they say.

After the dictaphone notes and a few other things that needed doing, we had a footfest – the highlights of the matches in the JD Cymru Premier League from yesterday. And one of the most surprising results was that Llanelli, hopelessly adrift at the foot of the table, beat Welsh Cup finalists Y Fflint 2-1 away at Y Fflint’s ground. I’m not sure how that happened but it’s certainly thrown the relegation battle between Y Bala and Y Fflint wide open again.

Following that, there were two matches of Stranraer’s to watch. The first was Tuesday night’s 3-1 home win over Clyde and the second was a disappointing 1-0 defeat away at Annan. But I do have to say that I’m sure that the referee was refereeing a different game to the one that the crowd, the match commentators and I were watching.

There wasn’t much time after that, but nevertheless I managed to edit another lot of radio notes and prepare the two halves of the programme. The joining track has been selected and the notes written for it too, ready for dictation at some point in the future.

When it was baking time, I went into the kitchen to bake a chocolate oil-cake, with coconut oil. And with real chocolate chips from a whizzed-up bar of cooking chocolate and with ground almonds and ground Brazil nuts.

And at some point during the week, it will have a coating of melted cooking chocolate bar. Sickly as anything, but that’s my Easter treat along with my hot cross buns.

After that, I made the base for tonight’s pizza. And another really delicious one, with half left over for tomorrow, as usual.

Right now, though, I’m off to bed, ready for dialysis tomorrow … "I don’t think" – ed … and all of the doctors in their little room, crossing their fingers in the hope that this “serious risk of suicide” comes to pass.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my hot cross buns … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends asked me if I would enjoy them, despite their being over-baked.
"Not a problem" I replied. "It reminds me of my mother when we were kids."
"How do you mean?"
"She used to treat us all like Gods."
"In what way?"
"Every time we came home from school, she presented us with a burnt offering."

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Saturday 28th March 2026 – YET ANOTHER EVENING …

… when I’ll be going to bed without any food. I started to take the stuff out of the fridge but it went almost straight back, before I’d even taken all of it out. Somehow, I just couldn’t face it tonight.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … my taste buds are definitely changing again. I wonder what’s going to drop off the menu this time, apart from my sausage, beans with cheese, and chips that I was planning on having.

This latest thing seems to be something to do with one of the medicaments that Emilie the Cute Consultant has prescribed for me. Last night, after I’d finished my notes at some kind of reasonable time, I finished off everything that needed finishing and then went into the kitchen for the medication. And about five minutes later, I began to feel quite uncomfortable.

The next thing that happened was that I was hit by a huge wave of fatigue, and I was glad to crawl into bed before it overwhelmed me.

Once in bed, I fell asleep quite quickly and apart from one or two brief awakenings, caused mainly by fits of coughing, I remember nothing whatever until the alarm went off at 06:29. And can you imagine just how difficult it was for me to leave the bed at that moment?

What with having some hand-washing to do too, I ended up being terribly late in the kitchen for my hot drink and medication. Still, better late than never. But I’ll tell you something for nothing, and that is that I had an incredibly dry throat, I was feeling dizzy and also quite lethargic.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And it was a disappointment – I think that Emilie the Cute Consultant’s medication is affecting my sleeping patterns too.

Wales was being attacked by England, so Wales responded by pushing the English back into England. Eventually, the Welsh army overwhelmed the English army right up to the point where not only did they capture most of the English army bases in the UK, it managed to capture a couple of bases’ settlements that were north of Hadrian’s Wall which, in theory, were in Scotland. Wales ended up capturing things like the forts at Newsteads which upset the Scots, and the Scots decided that they really would … fell asleep here …

And when I found the dictaphone later, it had been running for two hours and fifty-five minutes, so if you want to hear me snoring and coughing, you will have plenty to go at.

And “snoring”, yes. I’m sorry for doubting you, Percy Penguin.

As for the dream, the first part relates to very little that is current, but the second part refers to James Curle and his A ROMAN FRONTIER POST AND ITS PEOPLE that we read over Christmas and New Year.

There was something about a building somewhere in Crewe that should have been right in the centre of town but was somewhere tucked up a side street, one of the ones behind Market Street. I was on my way to visit it but I couldn’t remember exactly how I was going to be able to go there and at that point I was awoken by an enormous fit of coughing.

Apparently, at the back of Market Street, they have demolished a load of old railway engineering buildings and are building on the site. Let’s hope that the money lasts so that they can finish the job. Having gambled on HS2 arriving in the town, the council’s finances are in a total mess.

The nurse turned up as usual and saw to my legs and feet. He didn’t have much to say, but he doesn’t think much of my lifestyle and my lack of eating. He thinks that my main meal should be at lunchtime. However, if I eat a lot then, I just fall asleep in the afternoon and I do that too often without inviting it.

After he left, I made breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, we’re discussing the exiles living on the charity of the Pope in Rome. And as I said yesterday, there are piles of them – far too many to count. The Pope must have been a very wealthy man.

After breakfast, I had the fridge to tidy. I’d bought a lot of vegan milk because if it hadn’t been for running low on milk, I’d have waited for another week for supplies, with not eating much these days. So I’m going to see if I can last out four weeks this time.

It’s difficult to believe that a year ago, I was ordering shopping every two weeks

Back in here, we had the highlights of last night’s game between Caernarfon and TNS. These included yet another “let’s play it out from the back, boys”, with a predictable result.

There were a few other things that needed doing, but I’m not sure how I managed because I was feeling quite tired and lethargic, and shaking off wave after wave of sleep.

There was football on the internet at lunchtime – Hwlfordd v LLansawel. And after their dreadful display last week, Hwlffordd played much better and managed to grind out a 1-0 win to move ahead in the race for the European playoffs.

But I’d love to have a closer look at Hwlffordd’s challenge on Llansawel keeper Will Fuller as the cross came into the penalty area.

Eventually, I managed to begin to edit an outstanding set of radio notes. By the time that I’d knocked off, I’d assembled the two halves of the programme, chosen and dealt with the final track and written the notes for it, ready for dictation.

And seeing as we have been talking abut the radio programmes … "well, one of us has" – ed … I forgot to mention yesterday that that very long concert that I need to edit – it’s all done and the notes are all written. I managed to find a few hours yesterday afternoon when I sorted it out.

There were also a couple of chats with a few of my friends too. It’s nice to hear from them every now and again. We don’t see each other anything like enough these days since I’ve been ill.

Later in the afternoon, I began to make my hot cross buns. They are all made now, ready for Easter. Eight of them and then are huge. The trouble with my hot cross buns was that the oven was rather too hot and the buns are somewhat scorched. It won’t make much of a difference, though. They will still be nice.

So with no tea and having finished my notes, I’m off to bed and my lie-in tomorrow … "he hopes" – ed … because I definitely need it. I’ve crashed out a couple of times already today and I’m feeling as if I could crash out again at the drop of a hat.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Pope and the refugees in Rome … "well, one of us has" – ed … Queen Charlotte of Cyprus came to see the Pope in her horse and carriage.
As it was such a nice day, she invited the Pope to come for a ride with her. And after ten minutes, the horse … errr… broke wind extremely noisily.
"Oh dear" said Queen Charlotte, extremely flustered. "I really am so sorry."
"It’s no problem" said the Pope. "In fact, if you hadn’t said anything, I would have sworn that it was the horse."

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Friday 27th March 2026 – AND SO, AFTER …

… last night’s theatrics, I managed to survive into today.

Not without problems, though. I am still having these severe coughing fits, my nose is running and I’m freezing, freezing cold. In fact, although for the past few days I’ve just been running the heating at night, it went back on on Thursday for twenty-four hours per day. And yet I’m still perishing.

So after I’d finished the notes for yesterday, I managed to find the time to dictate a few radio notes, making a horrible mess of them, and I reckoned that that was nature’s way of telling me to go to bed.

But not before I’d switched off the alarms and set one for 07:30. A lie-in will do me a little good, I hope.

However, there was just one problem. The alarm that I’d set didn’t have a sound. Consequently, it was the vibration and the buzzing that awoke me, rather later than it might have been. I was dead to the World at that moment.

As usual, it took a while to haul myself out of bed, and as I was already dressed (yes, I’d gone to bed again fully dressed) I sat at the desk and listened to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And again, it was somewhat disappointing.

I was in dialysis last night. There was some discussion amongst the staff about cases of food poisoning going around. I listened quite carefully because when someone began to mention a couple of the symptoms, I realised that that was actually how I was feeling and how I was suffering. However, the only thing that I have to eat or drink there is the orange juice and coffee so I don’t know where this thing about food poisoning might have come from at dialysis.

That was rather prescient, I suppose, because the idea of food poisoning had gone through my mind at some point during the afternoon on Thursday.

When the alarm went off, there was something going on about weddings. We’d been planning some kind of wedding for something or other and a couple of people had said that this is going to be the kind of wedding that we’ll never forget. But I didn’t manage to go very far down into this dream at all because the alarm went off and awoke me.

What a shame that the alarm awoke me just as this dream was starting up. I would have loved to have known how it would have developed.

The nurse turned up as usual to sort out my legs and feet. He didn’t have much to say today, especially after I’d told him that I’d gone to bed at 20:00. I suppose that he was pondering on how to deal with the situation in his capacity as a nurse, but he simply dealt with my legs and feet and left.

Once he’d gone, I could deal with breakfast — the first meal that I’d had in twenty-four hours — and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

We’ve finally finished the sorry tale of Bosnia and Herzegovina, where, like just everywhere else in the Balkans, the citizens handed their country over to the Ottomans on a plate. We’re now turning our attention to Rome, which seems to be where all of the exiled Kings and Princes ended up, living at the mercy of the Pope.

The list of royal personages who found refuge there is impressively long, that’s for sure, and it includes the names of some of the most powerful in the medieval Balkans.

Back in here, I had plenty of things to do now that my week’s work is finished. The most important was to pay my property taxes for my place in Canada, and now that’s done. There was also the food order for Leclerc to review and send off. And as you might expect, there were several items unavailable.

However, they did have a butternut squash, so my roasted butternut squash soup for Easter Saturday looks like it might be on.

Another thing that I’ve been doing is to back up the files. Now that I have an 8 TB disc drive in the new office computer, I’ve been merging all of the files that were on different hard drives, and they are all now on this large one. I’ve merged in the working files too, and the next plan is to format the two external drives, split the contents of the large back-up drive into two and copy them onto the two external drives, half each, as an extra insurance back-up.

My cleaner turned up as usual to do her stuff. I explained that I wasn’t well, so she sensibly left me to it and left at the end of her session.

Not that I had much rest because fifteen minutes after she had gone, Leclerc turned up with the shopping. So I had all of that to put away (and it’s still not all away) and one kg of carrots to dice, blanch and freeze. And to save the water for the base of the butternut squash soup.

Back in here, I drifted off on my travels for a short while and then had a look at some of the notes that I’d dictated just now. Two of them were the notes for joining tracks so I edited them both and assembled the programmes. That’s me now well ahead for self-sufficiency.

Tea tonight was the curry that I was going to eat last night, a korma from out of the freezer, with rice and veg followed by vegan trifle. And I noticed that the agar-agar jelly seems to be breaking up. It’s probably not meant to be kept as long as this, so I shall have to make a smaller one next time. I hope that this one survives a little longer and doesn’t end up completely in the waste bin. That would be a tragedy.

It will also be a tragedy if I don’t get a move on and go to bed while I still can. I need a good night’s sleep and this looks like the best chance of having one.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about weddings … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone once asked "why does the bride always wear white at her wedding?"
"It’s to symbolise purity and chastity" I replied
"Of course it isn’t" retorted someone else. "If you look around, you’ll find that all kitchen appliances come in white these days."

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Thursday 26th March 2026 – HERE I ALL AM …

… not sitting in a rainbow but sitting at my desk in my office. And the time is 02:15

If you’re wondering why it’s so late, the answer is that it isn’t. Anyone who came here yesterday evening or in the early part of the morning will have noticed from the rather terse entry that I made at the time that I’d come home from dialysis and gone almost straight away to bed.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … when I’m feeling as bad as I was feeling at that moment, bed is by far the best place for me to be.

In fact, I’ve been feeling rather strange all day. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that it all began on Wednesday afternoon when a bizarre wave of fatigue swept over me. In the evening, I couldn’t finish my meal and I was really glad to finally make it into bed, late as it might have been, for all the usual reasons.

Once in bed, I went to sleep fairly quickly and apart from one or two little twitches during the night, I slept right through to the alarm at 06:29.

As usual, we had another struggle to rise to our feet and then I staggered off into the bathroom for a wash and a shave – not that it will do me much good because, having prescribed some tablets for me that have a high suicide rate, I imagine Emilie the Cute Consultant sitting all afternoon in her little office with her fingers crossed.

After the hot drink and the medication, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And it was rather disappointing.

TNS won the Welsh championship and by rights should have qualified to play in Europe, but something happened which meant that they lost that place to a Scottish football club. Many people were upset by this. One of the Welsh reporters said that regardless of the outcome, TNS should have had the chance to play in a play-off against that team, regardless of how many people were interested in coming along to watch it.

This is another one of those dreams that has little basis in fact. The Welsh clubs sometimes have three, sometimes four teams playing in European competition during the summer but that number depends on how well the clubs performed in the previous summer. And TNS, perennial championship winners, would always qualify for first place.

The nurse turned up early today. And he had a moan about the gloves that he used yesterday and had set aside for today not being where he’d left them. I replied that if he were to leave them in the medication drawer, they would still be there but if he were to leave them on the kitchen worktop, they would automatically go into the bin with the rest of the rubbish.

After he left, I made breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

We’re still discussing Bosnia and Herzegovina, and we’ve reached the same old, old Balkan story of disputed successions, greedy nobles, all that kind of thing, who spend so much time squabbling amongst themselves that they fail to see the danger of the Ottoman forces gathering on their borders.

In fact, there have been several instances of nobles actually calling the Ottomans to help them with their struggles, preferring the yoke of the Sultan to that of their own brother, uncle etc. It really was a shameful period in European history.

Back in here, I finished the radio programme from yesterday, choosing the final track and writing the notes for it.

With that out of the way, I began to look at the next two for next week. The first one is easy – it’s difficult to believe that I’ve been doing this radio work for seven years and I can now actually recycle one of my earlier programmes, with some slight updating of the notes. That was done in no time flat.

The second one might be a little (just a little) more complicated. It relates to a sad day in San Francisco’s music history and as it happens, I have a recording of the concert that took place there on that day.

The big question though is “how do you condense a concert of four hours and fifteen minutes of one of the greatest jam bands ever into a programme of fifty-eight or so minutes?”. I can see that I shall have to be very imaginative.

But by now, there were strange goings-on. My throat had become all dry and sticky, I was losing my voice and I was feeling a little light-headed. I’ve no idea why. Anyway, I treated it as just one of those things and carried on.

My cleaner was rather late arriving for my anaesthetic so it was something of a panic. And then the taxi driver, who had never been here before, couldn’t find the entrance to the building and my cleaner, who had collared him in the street, came back here to escort me out.

We had two other people to pick up, one of whom was worse than me so I had to leave the front seat and sit in the back. And that was quite a gymnastic effort without my crutches, desperately clinging onto the door of the car.

At dialysis, I was seen quite quickly, but it was the nervous new girl who attended to me so it took longer than it otherwise ought to have done. However, she took one look at my lips and went to fetch a colleague. So I ended up sitting there for have an hour with a damp compress wedged between my lips.

Once I was plugged in, I was left pretty much alone and I could press on and fill out my shopping list for tomorrow. The doctors kept their distance today, obviously all sitting in their little office with their wax effigies and with their fingers crossed.

By the end of the session, I was feeling light-headed and nauseous as well as everything else. Luckily, the taxi driver was waiting for me when I was unplugged, and even luckier, it was one of my favourite drivers so we had our usual rocket-ride home.

My faithful cleaner helped me into the apartment, where I was hit with an overwhelming wave of fatigue on top of everything else from which I was suffering. After my cleaner had left, I simply made a brief blog entry and then crawled, fully clothed, into bed and that was that.

And that is where I’m going right now – to catch up on my beauty sleep.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about fighting between brothers … "well, one of us has" – ed … I remember once when my brother and I, very young, were having a kiddy fight
My mother turned up and asked "what’s happening here?"
"He started it" said my brother, pointing to me. "He hit me first."
"And why did he hit you?"
"He didn’t like it that I’d hit him just before."

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Wednesday 25th March 2025 – IT HAS BEEN …

… a strange kind of day today — neither one thing nor another. I’m not quite sure why but if ever there was a day of two halves, this was it.

Take last night, for instance. Even though I was late … "yet again" – ed … finishing off everything that needed finishing, I wasn’t in the least bit tired and I ended up sitting around for a while listening to a concert by Renaissance. As a result, I was quite late going to bed, and it was all my fault.

Not being tired, it took me a while to go to sleep but apart from one moment, more of which anon, I slept right through until just a couple of minutes before the alarm — 06:24 if I remember correctly. Not that there was any prospect of me claiming an early start by sliding my feet onto the floor before the alarm went off — that four minutes in bed was valuable.

Even so, when the alarm went off, it took me a good few minutes to raise myself from the Dead and head off into the bathroom. And then into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what had happened during the night.

There had been a dance at an army camp and plenty of male and female soldiers had attended. During the evening, a couple of males and a couple of females had made themselves into couples. At the end of the dance, when everyone was due to go home, one of the female soldiers remarked that there would be a bed empty in her hut because one of the female soldiers isn’t there this weekend. One of these ad-hoc couples decided that they would take advantage of this so they followed everyone else back to the various dormitories. They worked out which one was their hut, and they went in. But there were a couple of other women in there, including one who looked after the section’s lion, which was their mascot from Ethiopia and looked after by them, so this was a strange sight of a woman and a lion, another lion, another woman, a third woman and then this couple who were in this other woman’s bed. At some point, I was summoned to do something with the hot water firing. I thought that this was a surprise because it’s not really my job. However, it was explained to me that the person whose job it was usually was missing. So I was called out and came down and went to fix it, and then I began to ask about the whereabouts of this other guy, and so a search began. When they opened the door of this women’s dormitory and found him there with this woman and this lion in this room, and all these other women, the service went totally berserk.

This is another dream that has absolutely no connection at all with anything that has happened in the real World just recently, as far as I can tell. What on earth a woman would be doing in a dormitory with a lion is something that totally baffles me.

The army dance is interesting too, but that doesn’t seem to fit in with anything either. As for me being in the army, that would be most unlikely too. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … that if a war were to break out and conscription came into force, I would be heading for the nearest Merchant Marine office.

Then there was a dream about a group of people who had let themselves go in their lives. The first one was a graphic artist from Italy who had settled into the UK to do some kind of graphic work, but had lost his job and was content to sit around all day on benefits rather than go out to try to find a job to better his position.

As I was starting to dictate this, I was overwhelmed by the most enormous coughing fit, one of the biggest that I’ve had and which awoke me, as I mentioned earlier. When it calmed down, I found that I had forgotten everything else that I needed to know about it and so that was that.

Almost immediately that I had finished transcribing the dictaphone notes, the nurse turned up. He didn’t have a lot to say for himself today and was soon gone on his travels. I could make my breakfast, cutting the bread with my new bread knife that arrived yesterday, and it isn’t ‘arf sharp. I hope that my cleaner can find some of those vegetable knives if they are as sharp as the bread knife is.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, we’re discussing Bosnia and Herzegovina, and I can understand why there is so much fighting over the possession of these territories even today. Their history is so convoluted – at some time in the past, almost every power of any importance in the Balkans and in Italy has had possession of this area at some point. Numerous battles have been fought across the area as other powers have tried to take control.

Back in here, I had a few things to do and then an e-mail to write. That actually took longer than it ought.

When I’d dealt with that, I began to write the notes for another radio programme. However, the time seemed to evaporate and what should have taken about three hours at most ended up taking over five, and I’ve no idea why.

My faithful cleaner turned up to interrupt me at one point. She’d brought the rest of the medication that had to be ordered. I mentioned the side effects of the medication that Emilie the Cute Consultant had prescribed, and her response was “serve you right”. It’s nice to know that you have loyal friends.

Something strange happened after all of this. From going along, bright and cheerful, I suddenly became overwhelmed with fatigue and found myself slumped over the desk in one of these trances that I used to have quite regularly.

In fact, had Rosemary not ‘phoned me up for a chat, I would probably still be there now. Even so, over an hour crashed out like that is some going.

Rosemary and I just had a short chat today — a mere one hour and twenty-four minutes. We’re obviously losing our touch these days.

After she’d hung up, I attacked one of the radio notes that i’d dictated a while back. I’d hoped to have had these all edited, the two halves of the programme prepared, the extra track chosen and the notes written , with plenty of time to spare afterwards, but what with one thing and another … "and until you make a start, you have no idea just how many other things there are" – ed … I’d barely finished preparing the two halves.

That filled me full of dismay because the time is just melting away between my fingers and I can’t stop it.

Tea tonight was pasta and vegetables in a vegan cheese sauce followed by more delicious trifle. It was quite nice, except for the fact that some of the pasta ended up in the bin as I couldn’t eat it. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … my taste buds are definitely changing.

But right now, I shall be changing, into my night clothes to go to bed, ready for dialysis tomorrow … "I don’t think" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the woman and the lion … "well, one of us has" – ed … she was walking with the lion down Hoole Lane in Chester not so long ago.
A policeman stopped her and demanded "where do you think you are going with that lion?"
"Where do you think?" she asked. "I’m taking him to Chester Zoo"
A couple of days later, the same policeman stopped the same woman with the same lion in Sealand Road
"I thought you said that you were taking that lion to Chester Zoo?"
"And so I did!" she retorted "but he didn’t think much of it so we’re going to watch Chester City play Scarborough Athletic."

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Tuesday 24th March 2026 – MY VEGAN TRIFLE …

… is absolutely delicious! With its base of agar-agar grape jelly with real pears, a mid-layer of vegan custard and the pièce de resistance – the meringue topping that went onto the custard this afternoon, it really was a masterpiece. I shall be making another one of these at some point in the near future.

So what with the vegan cheesecake that I made the other day, my repertoire of puddings seems to be expanding quite quickly. And that can only be a good thing, especially as I have decided to make a chocolate cake for Easter, with real chocolate chips and a chocolate topping. That’s Sunday’s task, with Saturday’s being, of course, to make some hot cross buns.

But retournons à nos moutons as they say around here. I was so looking forward to my trifle yesterday that last night I dashed right through my notes and everything else that I had to do, and I was actually in bed at something like a reasonable time.

However, regular readers of this rubbish will recall exactly what happens when I manage to go to bed early. It was something like 02:00 when I awoke, and failing miserably to go back to sleep, I lay there in a kind of semi-conscious haze as the clock went round and round towards 06:29.

At one point, I was seriously thinking of leaving the bed and doing some dictating, but how do you dictate when you are being constantly wracked by a series of severe coughing fits? I came to the conclusion that I would be of more use if I were to stay in bed, rest and relax and maybe eve fall asleep if I’m lucky.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be, and I was still awake when the alarm finally went off.

As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, being awake is one thing — being up and about is quite another thing. As usual, it took me a good ten minutes to bring myself round into the Land of the Living. Only then was I able to stagger off into the bathroom to sort myself out.

Into the kitchen next for my hot honey, lemon and ginger drink and medication, and then back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And to my dismay, it seemed as if I hadn’t been anywhere. Nothing but silence.

Never mind — after such a bad night, it’s hardly a surprise, and there are plenty of other things that I can be doing instead.

The nurse blew in this morning after his week’s break. He had a few things to say, but he kept very quiet about the fact that in the local elections on Sunday he’d been elected to the town council. That’s probably because he knows my opinion on the town council — I’ve expressed it often enough.

After he left, I could make breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

We’ve now come to discuss Albania in medieval times, and this has, as you might expect, led me off on a trail down a side-alley, at a tangent to where I’m supposed to be. But regular readers of this rubbish will recall that that kind of thing is only to be expected when I’m doing something.

Back in here, I revised my Welsh and then went to the lesson. It was another really good lesson, but I had to keep my microphone on “mute” for most of the time because I didn’t want my classmates to be disturbed by my constant coughing. It’s really out of control, this is.

After the class ended, my faithful cleaner turned up and shooed me under the shower for a good scrub. At least I feel quite clean now, even if I wasn’t very enthusiastic about the affair today.

She’s also bought some of the medicine that Emily the Cute Consultant prescribed for me yesterday. And now I’m more convinced than ever that she doesn’t love me any more. According to the warning notice, "Severe side effects include an increased risk of suicide.". The lesser side effects include "sexual problems". So that would seem to indicate that a bout of indoor alligator-wrestling is off the menu for the foreseeable future, for various reasons.

The good news is that she managed to find some of the expensive kitchen knives that were on offer, ridiculously cheap with my fidelity tickets. Not the ones that were most important, though, but as the offer continues until the 11th of April, she’ll keep on looking.

Mind you, there was a professional knife-sharpening tool that was included as part of the offer. They had a few of those so she brought one home, and I’ll see if I can rekindle some life into some of the old ones, as a kind of stopgap.

After she left, I went to make my meringue topping. I didn’t have enough aquafaba in the freezer, so I opened a tin of chick peas for some more. That made me decide that I would have a noodle stir-fry for tea tonight, using up the chick peas that I had just drained.

Whipping up the meringue topping made it a much greater volume than the unwhipped liquid, so I’m glad that I used my big Pyrex dish. It only just about fitted all in. And it’s heavy too. I can’t carry it one-handed so I’ve been relying on my little trolley to push around.

Back in here, I was really exhausted after all of that and what with the bad night too, so it’s no surprise that I had a little … errr … relax on the chair. Except that there was nothing “little” about it. I was away with the fairies for ninety minutes, although not in any kind of situation that would excite comment from the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine.

When I was back in the current World, I finished off one of the radio programmes that I’d started last week. That’s now added to the mountain of stuff that needs to be dictated, and I’ve no idea when I’ll be able to do that.

As I mentioned earlier, tea tonight was a vegan noodle stir-fry — delicious as usual, followed by my wonderful vegan trifle.

So now, suitably refreshed and suitably clean, I’m off to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my vegan trifle … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone once asked me "what’s made of egg-whites and sugar, and swings from tree to tree?"
"I’ve no idea" I replied. "What is made of egg-whites and sugar, and swings from tree to tree?"
"A meringue-utan of course."

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