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LIVE: Monday 5th October 2026 – I AM REALLY …

… convinced that the people at dialysis … "or some of them, anyway" – ed … are pulling my leg or taking the mickey. We’ve had yet another showdown about the length of the sessions.

More of this anon however. Let’s start at the very beginning … "♬ a very good place to start ♬" – ed … and go back to last night. By the time that I’d finished everything and crawled into bed, it was just a few minutes past 23:30. So much for my early night;

And it all went worse after that. I awoke a few hours later – don’t ask me what time – and after that, I didn’t go back to sleep at all. I just lay there, tossing and turning, all through the night.

When the alarm went off, I was still awake, but be that as it may, it was another desperate struggle to rise to my feet. And it wasn’t just a lack of motivation either. I had to wait a good few minutes for the room to stop spinning round before I felt able to stand up.

Having unlocked the front door for the nurse, I headed back into the bathroom to organise myself for dialysis. Except that I forgot to have a shave this morning. Whatever will Emilie the Cute Consultant think of me if she sees me this afternoon at dialysis?

Back in here, there was nothing on the dictaphone from last night, so I went to find myself something else to do. But there wasn’t very long in which to do it because the nurse turned up at 08:04 this morning, and that’s early.

While he was sorting out my legs and feet, he was telling me some more stories about Saturday’s fire in the restaurant in the town centre. Most of it, though, is pure gossip and speculation, so I’m not going to repeat it in a public forum.

After he left, I made breakfast (and my new loaf is wonderful) and while I was eating it, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

We’ve finished talking about fungi now and were discussing extremes of weather. And one example caught my eye – the entry for 1816.

"1816. July was unusually boisterous and wet.
Aug. 31. Accompanied by a fall of rain of nearly three inches in two days. A tremendous gale of wind visited Birmingham, Liverpool, and Manchester, and other northern towns. Much damage done to shipping, and many vessels lost at sea. This was the diastrous harvest time previously mentioned."

This corresponds with the volcanic eruption of Mount Tambora in Sumbawa, in Indonesia, in April 1815, the most powerful volcanic eruption in modern times. It led to 1816 being called “The Year Without a Summer” as crops failed and extremes of weather battered the World.

Back in here later, I had this week’s radio programme to review, and when I was satisfied with it, I sent it off to the studio to be fitted into the stream for broadcasting on Friday and Saturday nights at 21:30.

Having done that, the next item that needed my intervention was my Welsh homework. I called up the page, copied and pasted the questions onto the computer, checked that they were appreciated as being quite the careful and faithful copy, and then began to answer them.

When I’d answered them, I checked with my chatbot to see if I was on the right lines, and once he confirmed that everything was as it should be, I sent them off. That’ll give our tutor something to think about.

There was an interruption when the telephone rang. A neighbour called me to ask if he could come to visit me sometime. We agreed on Wednesday morning at 11:00. Then he telephoned me again five minutes later to say that he’d forgotten about an appointment on Wednesday, so could he come another time? As long as I’m here and I’m not in my Welsh class, he can come when he likes.

But what with neighbours coming to visit, the possibility that I’m going to have a friend here for a week and all of that, I seem to be quite popular these days. I’m not sure why, though. Do I owe you any money?

It’s not as busy, though, as it was last year. I shall have to remind a few more people that it’s open house for whenever they want to come to stay.

When the alarm that reminds me that it’s time to prepare for dialysis went off, I wandered into the kitchen for my disgusting drink and midday medication and then began to pack the travelling laptop to take with me. My cleaner turned up too to sort out the anaesthetic for my arm.

After she left, I waited for the taxi, in my usual “slumped over the kitchen table, head resting on my arms” position. And I began to have a lovely dream and remember saying to myself that I really must remember this, but then the doorbell rang and the whole lot evaporated immediately, and that was that.

At first, I was alone in the car, but then we had to pick up a guy at the hospital as well as my regular companion from Sartilly, as a result of which we were a little late arriving.

Not only that, but several people had arrived together just before me, so I had to wait until 14:25 before I was finally connected up.

My plan was to sit quietly and watch a football match but my dialysis machine had other ideas. It was constantly ringing up errors, and that brought the nurses a-running when the alarm went off. I hardly had any peace at all.

Nevertheless, I did manage to watch Airbus UK Broughton v Trefelin, after a fashion. This game was played between two of the newly promoted sides, and what different sides they were too. Trefelin were more “kick and rush” whereas Airbus played some really good, technical football. The final result, 3-0 to Airbus, wasn’t a surprise to anyone.

It seems to me that Airbus have managed to suss out this Premier League, and while they are never going to win the championship, they have what it takes to avoid relegation, but unless Trefelin can find something magical from somewhere, it’s going to be a long, hard season.

In the middle of all of this, we had a confrontation. One of the doctors … "not, unfortunately, Emilie the Cute Consultant" – ed …came to see me. She asked me how things were, and so I launched into my tirade about the last two sessions and how disappointed I was.

Of course, it wasn’t she who had made the decisions – she wasn’t on duty – so she only knew what was in the records.

First of all, I complained that whatever had gone on had gone on without my knowledge, and I thought that that was shameful. That surprised her because, apparently, every patient has the right to know what’s happening about his treatment.

Secondly, on Thursday, I’d made the decision to come home at the right weight by staying for four hours instead of three, and coming home 700 grammes over my weight, as I did last Thursday, was, in my opinion, a waste of forty-five minutes of my time when I have better things to do at home.

She couldn’t really find an answer to that. One thing that she suggested was that there wasn’t enough time even with four hours to take everything out. They are limiting my extraction to 950 millilitres per hour because of my low blood pressure. But leaving my blood pressure aside, which has been low like this for twenty-odd years, what with everything that’s pumped into me during a session, there were three thousand eight hundred millilitres to take out last Thursday, so that was exactly right – and I realised that the end of the World had come upon us when she – a doctor of medicine – had to use a calculator to divide three thousand eight hundred by four.

After much argument and discussion, we agreed that I should be leaving at my recognised dry weight, even if I have to stay there for a week to do it.

And having made such an agreement, the dialysis breathed its last, ten minutes before the end of the session with 200 grammes still to go, so I was unplugged, under-extracted and overweight. It wasn’t my day, was it?

The taxi was waiting for me when the dialysis was over and I was able to head for home quite quickly, especially as I was the only passenger. However, we ended up being stuck behind a service bus between La Havaudière and the roundabout at the ring road just outside Granville, and the bus was crawling along, stopping to drop off and pick up passengers all the way round and we couldn’t go past.

Eventually, we arrived at chez moi where my faithful cleaner was waiting for me. She helped me into the kitchen, and when I was sitting down on a chair, she stuck a disgusting drink into my hands.

After all of my exertions at dialysis today, I didn’t at all feel like cooking anything, so I grabbed some crackers and some of the cheese spread, and an orange for pudding. And when I went to spread the cheese on my crackers, I found that it had gone off. It’s really not my day, is it?

In the end, I started to write up the notes from the day, and I was pushing on quite well but the next thing that I knew was that it was almost 22:00 and I must have fallen asleep in mid-page at some time previously.

At that point, I was in absolutely no state at all to carry on working, so I posted what I had written, added a “To Be Continued” stamp and went to bed. I’ll finish everything off tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about things breaking down … "well, one of us has" – ed … two young Russian conscripts walk to the Ukraine front line and surrender to the Ukrainians.
"Our lorry has broken down, we’ve no more fuel, and we’ve been abandoned. " they said.
They are consequently taken prisoner, but one of the Ukrainians is a mechanic. "There’s no-one about" he said. "Let’s go and see if we can salvage it."
The Russian prisoners lead the Ukrainian patrol to the lorry, and the mechanic gives it a good examination.
After half an hour, he announces "the fuel pipe has come off and all the fuel has drained away. There’s a hole in the sump that has drained out all the oil, the cam belt has snapped, one of the tyres is punctured, the starter has fallen out and there’s a leak of water in the radiator."
"A leak in the radiator?" asks one of the Russians. "I can’t remember doing that."

LIVE: Sunday 4th October 2026 – YET ANOTHER SUNDAY …

… where a late breakfast seems to be the order of the day. Some of these lie ins are really good, especially a few that I’ve had just recently.

And I need a lie-in after the events of last night. For example, it was about 00:30 when I went to bed, and if that’s not late, I don’t know what is. Mind you, it’s a very far cry from the good old days when I’d still be up working at 02:30 and later, and sometimes not going to bed at all.

During the night, as you might expect, I awoke at some point. I’ve no idea what time it was because I didn’t look. It took quite a while, but I managed to go to sleep later, only to wake up again at 07:40. I definitely went back to sleep at that point because the nurse awoke me when he came in.

He sorted out my legs and feet while I was still in bed, and then I went back to sleep again. When I awoke again, it was 10:35, so I decided that I’d better wake up. As usual, it took me a while to be able to get to my feet, and then I went to sort myself out in the bathroom.

It was 10:55 when I began to prepare my breakfast. I couldn’t be bothered to make croissants but there was some bread left, so I just had some ordinary, normal toast with my porridge, coffee and juice.

While I was eating, I was reading THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Today, our discussion on fungi is continuing. We’re discussing the edible fungi found in the woods and fields, but it’s not much use because they are using all these scientific terms which many people, including me, don’t know, so we don’t really have much of a chance of understanding them.

One interesting fact that I learnt was that the poor rural folk, such as farm labourers in the depths of darkest rural Herefordshire are so poorly paid that they only ever eat bacon. One of the guys in the Naturalists Club reckons “how their diet would be greatly improved” by adding a few slices of edible mushrooms to their diet. That’s fair enough, but you need to talk to these people in language that they understand, not in scientific language.

Back in here, there were a few things to check, and then I had the dictaphone notes to transcribe.

This was a weird dream, and I’d forgotten most of it when I reached for the dictaphone, but one thing was that it was someone’s birthday in Crewe. We’d been invited, or, rather, I’d been invited because I knew the person, and Nerina could come too. I had to find a birthday present for that person, so we went for a wander in the town, but, as usual, there were far too many distractions. Nerina wasn’t living with me any more, so she was buying things for her new place where she was living, and she was going round and round in circles with these things, not making up her mind, not buying anything, buying this, thinking that, and it led to some kind of complications in the house where we were staying because of organising this birthday present and organising some shopping, and we found that we were going nowhere and doing nothing. I wanted to crack on, and we could have had a lift to this party too if we’d been ready with a birthday present. And then we started talking about Nerina’s birthday and Christmas present. She said that she didn’t want anything at all, and I couldn’t think of what to buy her either. In the end, there was a train back from Stafford where we were, going back to Creze. I thought that if we went there, we could dump these things and go back to catch the train to where we were going, but Nerina couldn’t even make up her mind about wanting to go on the train to home. She had other plans, and I thought that I didn’t know what these plans were. But there’s more of this dream that’s missing, and I’m certain that it went on all night practically.

Nerina is making more and more of a regular appearance in my dreams these days. Not that I mind, because I did ask her to share my life with me. But it’s not like Nerina to dither around like this. Usually, she’d make up her mind quite quickly and decisively.

And notice that we were at Stafford railway station. I’ve only ever caught a train from there twice – once when I was sixteen or so and I’d been for a walk around Stafford one Friday night, and the second time was coming back from Birmingham after a “certain meeting”, and that’s another story that the World is not yet ready to hear.

Also, we’re flitting about from pillar to post, and so is this birthday bash. Trying to keep synchronised with time and place in a dream seems to be almost impossible.

This dream wasn’t recorded, but it was something else that was going round in my head when I awoke. I was in need of a new laptop for some reason, so a friend and I set out to buy one. We went to a department store that had an electrical department, but the shop was crowded with people and we had to fight our way through into the electrical department at the back. When we were finally served, they didn’t really show me any laptops but a kind of strange machine that was a laptop with some kind of box like a desktop computer. I asked them how they figured that this machine was portable, but they didn’t come up with an answer. They had loads of bits and pieces from dismantled desktop and laptop computers on shelves ready for sale, so I was at a loss as to why they didn’t assemble a few computers themselves and sell them on.

This seems to be pretty relevant, concerning the new Lenovo laptop and desktop that I bought earlier in the year, and the parts on the shelves remind me of the computer shop in Brussels where I used to buy my computer equipment and bits and pieces.

And funnily enough, later on in the day Rosemary telephoned me to tell me that her laptop computer has failed and wanted to know which new laptop I recommended. I told her about this refurbishment company that sells on Amazon and how I was happy with the Lenovo desktop and Lenovo laptop that I’d bought earlier in the year.

In fact, Rosemary phoned me up twice. The first one was only a short chat today – just 01:00:40 – and later on, it was a mere 00:16:10. We are definitely losing our touch.

Later on, I watched the football. The first match was Stranraer vs a strong Edinburgh City. This game seemed to go from one end to the other, but while there were plenty of shots at goal, surprisingly, there wasn’t one on target and neither goalkeeper had a save to make. It finished 0-0, which is no surprise.

However, as Clyde had beaten Elgin City quite comprehensively, Stranraer have found themselves at the top of the table this weekend, and this is quite unexpected considering where they were at this stage last season.

The next game was Greenock Morton v Raith Rovers, and that ended up 2-1 to Raith. Despite having sacked their manager … "and about time, too" – ed … earlier in the week, the first half was as dire as anything A Murray’s team has ever produced.

However, I don’t know what they put in the teapot for the half-time cuppa but I wouldn’t mind a drink of that myself. It was a different team that came out in the second half and they tore Raith to shreds. However, they couldn’t make their domination count for anything.

Nevertheless, if they play like they did in the second half of this game from now on until the end of the season, they’ll be well up the table and out of danger.

There wasn’t much time to do much else, because at 16:30 I went to make my bread for next week.

It went together really well today and has risen up like a lift. It looks wonderful, and I’ll tell you tomorrow how it tastes after I’ve had my toast for breakfast.

While I was waiting, I was rueing the passing of time doing nothing, so I washed and then cut up some potatoes into small cubes. And then with a big helping of peas, some mint and some parsley, I steamed them in my vegetable steamer in the microwave.

They turned out to be really nice, so I covered them with my vegan salad cream and put them in a glass container in the fridge.

When I’d finished making my bread, I made a small salad with lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms, cucumbers, olives and kidney beans (for the protein), then added a couple of spoonsful of the potatoes and peas. That made a really nice, simple meal for tonight, and there’s plenty left for later.

Now back in here, I’ve finished my notes, and there are a couple of things left to do and then I’m off to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about mushrooms … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone asked the fungi expert of the Woolhope Naturalists Club which mushrooms were not able to be eaten.
The expert replied "none of them. You can eat every single kind of mushroom that you find"
"Really?"
"Absolutely" replied the expert. "And with some mushrooms, just one on its own will be enough to feed you for the rest of your life."

LIVE: Saturday 3rd October 2026 – ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS AFTERNOON …

… in dialysis today. But I’ll tell you something for nothing, and that is that I’m going to do my best not to fall asleep in dialysis again so that I can keep my eye on what’s going on behind the scenes.

Another thing on which I wish that I could keep an eye on is what’s going on with my sleeping patterns. Anyone who checked my blog between about 22:00 and midnight and then went to check it later will be bound to be confused by what they read.

Round about 21:30, I fell asleep in the chair here, and when I awoke at about 22:00, I just posted on line what I’d written to date and added a “TO BE CONTINUED” sticker to it.

Before I fell into bed, though, I went for a ride on the porcelain horse, and when I came back in here, I found that I was wide awake somehow, so I finished off the blog, overwrote the “TO BE CONTINUED” sticker and posted the completed entry on line.

And then I fell into bed and went straight to sleep.

At some point during the night, I awoke again and was tossing and turning around for what seemed like an eternity, trying to go to sleep, but without any success. But I must have managed it at some point because I was dead to the World when the alarm went off at 06:29.

We had the usual struggle with ourselves to leave the bed, and then I went into the bathroom to sort myself out. While I was there, I had a good scrub up and a shave, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis.

Then I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out what went on during the night.

There had been something in the news about adoptions. There was a family from Preston who had adopted a boy from a Preston children’s home, and a couple of other people who had done the same thing too. There was even someone who had taken an abandoned child from a children’s home with a view to adopting him, and escaping to Vietnam. That had me thinking about whether, as a single man, I could adopt a child too. So I went away from here and had a think about it and then went back to the office to talk to them. It was only later on that I realised that I was living in a one-bedroomed apartment, so if I did adopt a child, then where would it sleep?

There’s certainly some mileage in this dream. Some “friends of friends” have recently adopted a child from a local children’s home, and that’s what has probably inspired this dream. And then adopted child and Vietnam has a story behind it too, but it’s another story that the World is not yet ready to hear.

As for adopting a child, I’m quite ready, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, to adopting a cat, preferably a female cat. And it’s true that I only have a one-bedroom apartment, so adopting a child would be out of the question, even if I were not ill.

Then I was at work, and it was a Sunday morning and there was plenty of overtime to be done to clear some arrears. I went in and there were quite a few other people in as well. There was a guy sitting next to me, and suddenly, a pile of people’s files turned up on my desk, so I asked him if they were his, and he said that they were, so I put them onto his desk somewhere and began to make myself comfortable. A girl came in extremely late, and everyone cheered her, so she came out with some story about having been locked in somewhere over the weekend, and how would we have liked it? We said that, well, we were certain that we could have rolled up our sleeves, done something and swam to somewhere. I began to look at everything on my desk, and it was a complete and utter shambles, so what I had in mind was to leave quietly on Friday and not go back to the office.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that these dreams of being in work after my retirement date and threatening to walk out without notice used to be a regular occurrence, but they seem to have died off a while back. However, as I said the other day, they are slowly making a comeback.

And the untidiness of mine in the office is nothing new at all. I was always like that, wherever I was and whatever I was doing.

We’d gone skiing somewhere in one of these big resorts. The car that we used was one of these big Transcontinental Vauxhall estates. There were five of us in this car, and the amount of stuff we’d brought with us was astonishing. After we’d packed, for example, I found my old ski boots and all kinds of things like that, so when we arrived in a town near the border to be inspected by the police, we were fully loaded and it took quite a while. I found later that we’d brought all the books with us from home, all that kind of thing. We went skiing, and then we decided to put our chalet up for sale. Someone in the town responded immediately, so we had to do a lot of clearing up and tidying up before we could let him in. When we let him in, he was big and he was active, bouncing around, and we were busy trying to put our ski things away and stack these books somewhere. We ended up stacking them against the wall next to the fireplace. I found a camera that didn’t work because the batteries were flat in it, all kinds of things like that, and getting them into my bag was going to be complicated. Someone came up to my girlfriend and asked me about the car. Before we were leaving, someone else came up to us and asked about the car. My girlfriend didn’t know much about it, so I told him. He said that he was really impressed with the amount of luggage we had in there. He cancelled an order for a new car so that he could buy one of these Transcontinental Vauxhall Estates.

In case you’ve forgotten what a Transcontinental Vauxhall estate looks like, there’s one HERE. It’s the beige one, SPU903M. Strangely enough, of all the cars that I’ve ever owned, I’ve never ever had a Vauxhall. The closest I ever came to one was having a Bedford CA van for a short while.

However, in the past, we never went to any fashionable ski resort, except that I went once with an Italian girl to a ski resort in Italy. Most of the time, we went to the unfashionable ones, although when I was driving coaches and we had no work for a few months after Christmas, I’d go to ski resorts in Eastern Europe such as Romania and Bulgaria. I even took Percy Penguin with me once.

The nurse turned up as usual, and while he was dealing with my legs and feet, he gave me the same warning as my cleaner did yesterday about the festival down in the port and how it was total chaos.

After he left, I made my breakfast and read some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Today, we had another little chat about geology, and then we returned to fungi, with a discussion about fairy rings. Maybe the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine would have been interested in joining in the discussion. It’s a shame that the subject wasn’t “fairy boots”, otherwise it would have given me a good opportunity to drag Lee “I’m a prostitute” Pottymouth into the discussion. He’s not put in an appearance in these pages in an age.

When breakfast was finished, I had a few things to do, after which I intended to work on reformating the music that I’d downloaded the other day. However, in the end, I ended up having an on line discussion with someone about music that went on for quite a while, discussing mainly folk-rock songs.

And when the chat finished, I was so fired up that for the first time in a couple of years, I picked up the acoustic guitar and played CAREY by Joni Mitchell and MOONAGE DAYDREAM (I don’t know why) by David Bowie. I was surprised how much I’d forgotten, and also how much it hurt afterwards.

At midday, I went into the kitchen for my disgusting drink and midday medication, and then I began to make myself ready for dialysis. My faithful cleaner turned up too to put the anaesthetic on my arm too.

After she left, I hunched up over the table and let myself relax, with my head resting on my forearms. I was once again just about to drift off into a really nice dream when the doorbell rang. I looked at the time and it was 12:58 – I’d been away with the fairies … "although not in any manner that would excite comment from the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine" – ed … for just over half an hour.

There was no one else to pick up en route so we arrived at dialysis a few minutes early, despite the chaos around the port today. However, it made no difference because there was a queue of people in front of me, and it took until 14:25 to be plugged in.

Once everything was up and running, I had to wait until 15:30 for the football to kick off so I found one or two other things to do while I was waiting. However, I must have crashed out somewhere along the line because I awoke with a start at 15:27, just three minutes before kick-off.

The match that I’d chosen today was the basement clash between Rhydaman and Trefynnon. This was a real six-pointer, as both sides had yet to record a victory, and they needed to start winning soon, as the rest of the table was cutting them adrift.

As you might expect, this was another game played at a hundred miles per hour with both teams going at it hammer and tongs. And its opening was certainly dramatic – Johnny Evans missed a sitter of a free header when surely it must have been easier to score, and then straight from the goal kick, Trefynnon roared up the field and scored to go in front.

Then we had goals disallowed for offside, balls hitting the post or being cleared off the line, until Johnny Evans, in the fortieth minute, scored with a delightful lob from outside the penalty area, right over the head of the Trefynnon goalkeeper.

It went from bad to worse for Trefynnon when in the fifty-sixth minute, Rhydaman scored a second goal to take the lead. From then on, Trefynnon threw everything they had at the Rhydaman defence, but to no avail and Rhydaman took all of the points.

That was a shame because I thought that Trefynnon had the better of the play, but they are deep in it now after that.

And spare a thought for Cambrian United. For the second away match in succession, they conceded nine goals. And they are one of the better promoted teams too.

This was when I noticed something rather bizarre. When I’d begun to watch the football, there were fourteen minutes after the final whistle before the end of the session. However, despite there being over fourteen minutes of stoppage time in this game, there was still half an hour to go, and I wasn’t finished until 17:55.

From 14:25 to 17:55 is three and a half hours, not the three hours that I’m supposed to have, and when I weighed myself later, I was still four hudred grams over my dry weight. Mind you, I did notice that the chief doctor, he who doesn’t like me chatting up the nurses, was on duty again today. He spoke to several people in the ward, but kept well clear of my bed.

When I was outside, I had to wait a few minutes for the taxi but I was once more the only passenger. Nevertheless, it was 19:15 when I finally arrived home.

My cleaner was waiting for me, sitting on her mushroom outside, and she helped me into the house and gave me another disgusting drink.

After she had left, I made myself a small plate of pasta and veg tossed in olive oil, garlic, black pepper and vegan cheese. And delicious it was too, especially as it was followed by a peach yoghurt.

Back in here, I had things to do, and then write up my notes. Now when I’ve checked the stats and backed up the computer, I’ll be off to bed. It’s horrendously late tonight … "or this morning" – ed … but I don’t care. I’m aiming for a lie in tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about people sitting on mushrooms and other bizarre things … "well, one of us has" – ed … a man walked into a doctor’s surgery and began to speak to another man sitting there.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"I have the biggest piles the World has ever seen" he replied.
"Is that why you’re sitting on that giant bean cushion?" he asked.
The man replied "look more closely."

LIVE: Friday 2nd October 2026 – EVEN THOUGH I’VE …

… wasted a lot of time today, I’ve been remarkably productive. I’m not sure how I’ve managed that, but one thing that I’ve noticed is that today seems to have gone much more slowly than the other days just recently.

But last night, try as I might to go to bed early, it still ended up round about 23:00 when I crawled into bed. And then, I remembered a kind-of-nighttime mantra from a couple of years ago that helped me go to sleep. I started to recount it and I was asleep long before I’d finished it. I shall have to try it again and see if it still works or if I went to sleep by pure chance.

Whatever it was, it didn’t work for long because I was awake again at some point, I’ve no idea when. I lay awake for ages, looking at the signs for all of the closed lumber companies in Luxembourg (I don’t know where they came in), and I may well have been awake when the alarm went off.

It took even longer than usual to rise up this morning, and I really was seriously having thoughts of going to bed again. However, I pushed the idea right out of my mind and struggled off to the bathroom to sort myself out for the day.

Back in here, there were several issues that cropped up. The first one was, as usual, to transcribe the dictaphone notes.

There had been something in the news about adoptions. There was a family from Preston who had adopted a boy from a Preston children’s home and so had a couple of other people. There was even someone who had taken an abandoned child from a children’s home with a view to adopting him, and then escaping to Vietnam. That had me thinking about whether, as a single man, I could adopt a child too. So I went away from here and had a think about it and then went back to the office to talk to them. It was only later on that I realised that I was living in a one-bedroomed apartment, so if I were to adopt a child, then where would it sleep?

This dream is surprisingly current. A friend of a friend of mine and his wife have just adopted a small boy, and the “child” and “Vietnam” do have a certain ring about them too. But I was more interested in adopting a cat, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … and the apartment only having one bedroom is perfectly true too.

Then I was in work, and it was a Sunday morning, and there was plenty of overtime to be done to clear some arrears. I went in and there were quite a few other people in as well. There was a guy sitting next to me, and suddenly, a pile of people’s files turned up on my desk, so I asked him if they were his and he said that they were, so I put them onto his desk somewhere and began to make myself comfortable. A girl came in extremely late, and everyone cheered her, so she came out with some story about having been locked in somewhere over the weekend, and how would we have liked it? We said that, well, we were certain that we could have rolled up our sleeves, done something and swam to somewhere. I began to look at everything on my desk, and it was a complete and utter shambles, so what I had in mind was to leave quietly on Friday and not go back to the office.

A one time, this used to be a regular occurrence, thinking about walking out on a job because of the loss of amenities, the build-up of work and the fact that I was well past retirement age.

And strangely enough, when I was typing out the notes for this second dream, I suddenly remembered a lot more about it, such as –

In this office, I also had a second desk and it looked even more chaotic than the first. I went over to it to try to put everything in order, but first, I had to go back to the other desk because my dictaphone, which had been playing some music, suddenly began to bellow it out at full volume, so I had to quieten it down to a whisper, and I brought it back with me. This second desk was really chaotic, and I began to try to tidy it up but that proved to be a hopeless task. That just reinforced my decision to abandon my post. But on looking behind my chair, I saw my giant red toolbox, really heavy, and a huge bag of clothes with another suit ready to go into it, and plenty more things too that were important, and I thought “however am I going to take all of these things out with me by Friday without anyone noticing?”.

The logistics of retiring seem to be quite difficult in this dream, that’s for sure.

By now, the nurse had arrived to fix my legs and feet. He’d read about the seafood festival that’s taking place in Granville this weekend in the port, and he advised me to tell the taxi driver to take good care of me while we’re out tomorrow because the road by the port will be packed with pedestrians. He’s not going to the festival because he doesn’t like shellfish, etc.

And neither do I, but that’s not the point. I have to go that way to dialysis.

After he left, I could make breakfast and then read some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870 while I was waiting.

Today, we’re still discussing fungi and also some biology, and yet another prescient remark turns up, "But on that disputable topic I shall not enter, only remarking that the extinguishment of animal and vegetable life, from meteorological causes, which has probably ever been going on upon the earth’s surface, deserves thoughtful attention, and if it extended no further than the drying up of numerous ponds in a country subjected to a continued amount of increased temperature, is a remarkable fact in Natural History."

So here’s another suggestion of global warming in the 1870s, although, of course, they didn’t call it that. And he notices the effect that it’s having on animal and vegetable life.

After breakfast, I came back in here to fight another wave of spam attacks. As you probably will have read, Chrome 154 and Linux seem to be the latest combination to be broken in a spam attack, and I’m having hits to my sites from all corners of the World with this combination of browser and operating system. It makes me wonder what else the bug is doing to the computers that are hosting it while it’s trying to attack everyone else’s. I can’t urge you enough to abandon Chrome until Google can sort it out.

Having done that, then I wrote the notes for the rock concert on which I’d been working, and they are now ready for dictating, along with the hundreds of others. I involved my friendly neighbourhood chatbot in this too, doing all the research for me and he came up with some wonderful anecdotes that he’d found hidden deep down in the depths of the internet. Having the chatbot involved by doing my research is saving me hours, and he’s doing it better than ever I could do it.

There was the usual disgusting drink break for the midday medication, and then my faithful cleaner turned up to do her stuff. One of the things that she did was to wash the windows, and that’s much better now. So much so that much more sun came in through the windows in the late afternoon and I had one of them open for a while to take advantage of it. She also found for me, at long last, a six-pack of plain soya yoghurt that I use in cooking. I can only find twelve-packs, and they’ll go off long before I’ve used them all.

After she left, I had a look at the radio programme that will follow the one that I’ve just prepared. I found that I needed quite a bit of music, so I went off on a search, and by the time that I was ready for tea, I’d found everything that I needed – or near enough anyway.

Tea tonight was, as usual, sausage beans with cheese and black pepper and air-fried chips, followed by another one of those posh soya yoghurts. Everything was cooked to perfection, and it was all really good.

So now, I’m off to bed again, ready for dialysis tomorrow … "I don’t think" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the office … "well, one of us has" – ed … a friend of mine worked in a place that had a “take your daughter to work” day, so he took his eight-year-old daughter.
After she’d been there for an hour, she suddenly burst into tears. All of her dad’s colleagues gathered round her and tried to cheer her up.
Eventually someone asked her what was the matter, and she replied "daddy said that he worked with a bunch of clowns and I haven’t seen one yet!"

LIVE: Thursday 1st October 2026 – WHAT A TOTAL …

… disaster this afternoon at dialysis was. Anything that could have possibly gone wrong did so, and in spades too.

Not that it was much better last night. It was almost midnight when I finally made my way into bed, and six hours and thirty minutes isn’t a long time in which to do very much, even if you go to sleep straight away, as I did. I wondered actually whether I would at first, with a streaming head cold and coughing, fit to awaken the dead, but a menthol and eucalyptus sweet cleared everything up long enough for me to drop off.

Not that I was asleep for long. Once more, I awoke at some kind of strange, early hour and couldn’t go back to sleep for ages. Whether I did at all is a debateable point – I was definitely awake when the alarm went off at 06:29.

As usual, it was quite a struggle to raise myself to my feet, unlock the front door and than head to the bathroom. There, I had a good wash and scrub up as well as a shave too, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone but to my dismay, there was nothing on it. That was rather disappointing.

Instead, there were plenty of other things to keep me busy until the nurse arrived. Today, we were discussing faults and shortcomings in the dialysis system, not that we’ll ever put it right ourselves sitting here.

After he left, I made my breakfast, and while I was eating, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

We’ve moved on from fungi and we’re now talking about the fossils of some giant prehistoric prawns, how they caught their prey and all of that. I’m glad that I didn’t live a few million years ago and had to confront one of those.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, and then I looked at my database to see what the programme next week will be all about. And as it happens, it will be a concert. All of the music that I have that belongs here totals one hour, one minute and twenty-nine seconds, and it’s not possible at first glance to cut it down by three minutes to fit in any speech. I had to be rather imaginative and creative, and now I’ve made one minute and forty-seven seconds for a speech, and I can cope with that.

When I’d done all that, there was even time to begin to write out the notes, and my friendly neighbourhood chatbot has even found some nice anecdotes for me to use. There’s no doubt that with enrolling my chatbot as a research assistant, I’m saving hours of time.

When the alarm went off, I headed into the kitchen for my disgusting drink and midday medication, and then began to organise my things for dialysis. My faithful cleaner turned up too to apply my anaesthetic onto my arm and we had a nice chat for a while.

After she left, I slumped over the table in the dining area and let myself disappear into my innermost thoughts, and just as I was beginning to settle into a nice dream, the taxi arrived.

We were ten minutes early setting off but we had to go to Sartilly to pick up another passenger at the old people’s home. He wasn’t ready, so we had to wait almost twenty minutes. As a result, I was late arriving at dialysis and had to wait until 14:20 to be plugged in.

Whatever has happened these last few days, I don’t know, but I seem to have set a new personal record of fluid to be deducted today. Even at four hours, there was only just enough time to eliminate it with the machine going full-tilt. I really don’t know what is happening right now, because nothing really has changed in my food or drink input. Even the energy drink that I had yesterday was in place of the late afternoon’s disgusting drink.

As a result, I persuaded them to make the session four hours and I sat back to watch the football.

Today, it was the rest of Cardiff Metropolitan v Caernarfon. I’d left this match with it being, surprisingly, 1-0 to the Met but I didn’t worry too much about it – especially when the Met had a player sent off after thirty-four minutes.

After that, it was an endless procession of balls into the edge of the Met’s penalty area and Caernarfon did everything they could to score.

That was how the second half went at first, but after an hour, a calamity! On one of their rare breaks upfield, the Met were awarded a penalty, from which they scored to make it 2-0.

After that, Caernafon brought on every attacker they could in the place of several defenders and bombarded the Met penalty area, but they couldn’t get the ball in the net until the eighty-sixth minute, when they made it 2-1. When it came up to ninety minutes, there was eight minutes of stoppage time and it was all one-way traffic, with Caernarfon still unable to find an equaliser until in the very last couple of seconds, Zack Clarke found the net to equalise and break the hearts of the Met.

So much for the legendary, unstoppable firepower of Caernarfon that put nine past Cambrian United last weekend.

That was really what I call a frustrating match, just like a game that I saw of TNS a couple of seasons ago, where they needed to score a goal but spent ninety minutes camped around the opposition penalty area with no-one being brave enough to put a cross into the box.

After that, I had a few things to do to take me up to the end of the session, with the blood pressure alarm ringing every thirty minutes, bringing the nurses running.

And this is where the disasters began. Firstly, I overheard the nurse and the doctor, the chief of the building who doesn’t like me. It seems that he’d told the nurse to diminish the extraction. However, he didn’t have the courage to tell me, which I found deplorable, and now I know why the nurse turned the display panel from facing my bed to facing the other way.

They may as well have left the extraction as it was and shortened the time – as if I have nothing better to do than to spend my time hanging around there and leaving with seven hundred grams extra that will mean that I have to stay there an hour later on Saturday.

At least the taxi was waiting for me when I exited the building, but the bad news is that we had to go across town to the clinic to pick someone else up, and one of the roads was under repair, so we had to go all round the Wrekin to get there.

The driver went to search for the passenger, but there was no trace, no matter where and how hard she looked. In a desperate last throw of the dice, we tried the ophthalmic surgery, and that was where we found her.

However, she had a prescription to be filled, so we had to drive around Avranches until we found a chemist’s that was open and then back round the Wrekin and head for home.

After dropping off our passenger, it was 19:40 when I arrived home, and I don’t think that I’ve ever been as late as that.

My cleaner helped me into the apartment and gave me a disgusting drink. I didn’t feel like cooking at that time, so I grabbed one of the bags of lentil crisps that she bought for me yesterday, and delicious they were too, especially when they were followed by a nice, ripe and juicy plum.

So now, having written my notes, I’ll do what else needs to be done and then I’m off to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about fossils … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone told me that there was a college in Somerset that trained up local people to dig for fossils.
"What are they called?" I asked.
"Arrrrh-chaeologists."

LIVE: 30th September 2026 – I HAVE BEEN …

… feeling much more like it today, even if I have crashed out a few times.

But then again, that’s not surprising … "the crashing out, not the feeling much more like it" – ed … because when I finally crawled into bed after finishing my notes, etc., it was after 00:30. And considering that the alarm goes off at 06:29, there’s not much time for sleep.

So I was in bed at 00:30 but it took me quite a while to go off to sleep, which is a change. And then at some ungodly hour, I awoke and couldn’t go back to sleep. I was slipping in and out of this strange kind of situation where I wasn’t really awake and I wasn’t really asleep either.

That gave me an opportunity to continue with my experiments, and sure enough, on most occasions where I dozed off lying on my side, I “awoke” to find myself lying on my back again. All except the final time when I went to sleep on my side and when the alarm sounded, I was still on my side. All that I can say is that I can’t have been asleep for very long at that point.

It took longer than usual this morning to stand up and leave the bedroom, but once I was up and about, I went to unlock the front door and then head into the bathroom to sort myself out.

Back in here, the first thing that I did was to transcribe the dictaphone notes for yesterday and then today. Yesterday’s notes have been amended and went on line quite quickly, and here are today’s.

I’d been to school, and I’d walked home afterwards. Then the following morning, I went to school again. As I entered the class, there was a huge commotion going on, in that one of the boys was refusing for some reason to do anything that the teacher was saying. In the end, the teacher told him to go and stand outside but he wouldn’t. It took two or three people to put him outside the door. I recognised the teacher – it was one of the guys from FC Pionsat St Hilaire, so I said to him that if this had happened on the football field, it would be a five-match ban. Eventually, the boy was allowed to return to class but he was still being obnoxious. Someone had managed to get hold of his watch and they looked at his appointments. They were all kinds of appointments with silly ideas, silly names and everything. Then we learnt of two girls in Year 6 who were taking a year off school to go to California. We all wondered why they had gone to California and what they were going to do, but they were going to go to school while they were there, so they weren’t going to miss very much in the way of education. It was in all the headlines of the national press, but in the local press, it was a little column stuck on page four. Then I had to look up, and I saw my crutches against the wall. I didn’t put them there, so then I thought that I must have gone home without them and come back this morning without them. I tried to walk a little, and I seemed to be walking normally. I don’t know what happened there, but I remember thinking that this is going to give them a huge surprise at dialysis the next time that I go, when I can simply walk to my bed without any help or assistance at all.

The story of the local newspaper’s reaction to these two girls as compared with the reaction of the national press reminds me of the famous Yokohama earthquake in 1923, when the city was almost completely destroyed and as many as 140,000 people died. The headlines in a local paper in the Midwest USA were "Mr and Mrs (whatever) safe".

The rest of the dream doesn’t mean much to me, but the idea of throwing away my crutches and walking has been the subject of quite a few dreams in the recent past. They stopped at one point, but now, they seem to be back.

The nurse turned up as usual to sort me out, and he didn’t have much to say today. He took my health card and passed it through his little machine so that he could be paid for the month of September. It took him ages to establish a connection, but eventually, he managed it.

After he left, I went to make my breakfast and read some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Today, we are discussing funguses, or ‘funghi’, found on the Longmynd and Clee hills. However, I was sidetracked as usual and ended up on Lord Howe Island with the other 400-odd inhabitants.

It’s a typical South Sea Island in between Australia and New Zealand with lots of endemic, unique fauna and flora that have been studied by scientists ever since the island was discovered.

The island will change dramatically in the coming years as modern ways of doing things and modern technology will overwhelm the nineteenth-century skills of the current generation of islanders.

Back in here, I finished off a few things that needed doing, and then I began to segue the pairs of songs in the radio programme that I’m preparing. They went together really well and on one or two of them, you can’t tell where the join is.

That took me up to lunchtime and my disgusting drink break with my midday medication.

Once that was out of the way, I began to write the notes for the music that I’d been preparing. I’d hoped to write about half of them, because some of the musicians are making their debut and that always takes much longer. But in fact, I managed to write all of them, don’t ask me how. I seemed to have worked really hard today.

And that was despite falling asleep a couple of times along the way. Even a can of one of these energy drinks seemed to have no effect. However, I began to liven up a little as the afternoon rolled on.

My cleaner turned up at one point. She’d been to Leclerc for some ink for her printer and I’d asked her if she could find some onions and if they had any British baked beans.

She’d brought the onions, but as far as she could see, baked beans … "or, at least, British ones" – ed … are definitely not on the menu in Leclerc. But she also found some vegan lentil crisps with much reduced salt and sugar content. She bought two packs of different varieties for me to try to see whether I want some more. We shall see.

There was tea tonight too – I’m definitely feeling better. It was potatoes mashed with spinach and fried in butter, and vegetables (peas, carrots and beans), falafel, onions, garlic and mushrooms. It was totally delicious, especially when it was followed by one of those posh soya yoghurts with fruit at the bottom.

So now, when I’ve finished a few more things, I’ll be off to bed. Later than usual, I suppose, but I’ll just have to make the best of it. I can always sleep at dialysis if they let me.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about mushrooms … "well, one of us has" – ed … in 1938 in Moscow, there was a party given by a general. He invited many other generals and in total, there were seventeen generals there.
They all had lunch too, but in the early afternoon, they were all found dead.
A Russian doctor performed autopsies on a couple of selected corpses, and he could see that they had died of mushroom poisoning, so he blamed the mushroom soup that had been the starter.
After all of the bodies had been taken away, the doctor came to report to Stalin. He said "After I’d performed the autopsies on a couple of the corpses and came to my conclusions, I watched the corpses being taken away, and I noticed that two of them had bullet wounds in the skull."
"That’s probably right" said Stalin
"Why was that?" asked the doctor.
Stalin replied "I’d heard that two of them didn’t want the soup."

LIVE: Tuesday 29th September 2026 – TODAY WAS A …

… much better day than yesterday – that is, up to a certain point anyway. It’s slowly starting to deteriorate now, so I’ll tell you all in due course how it ended. However, that won’t be tonight because there’s a football match on later this evening and it doesn’t finish until late, so I might end up just posting what I will have written, and you’ll get the rest tomorrow if you’re lucky.

Strangely enough, I was only thinking yesterday during the day that it’s been about a fortnight since you’ve had a “to be continued” when I’ve abandoned the notes due to tiredness and gone to bed, so things must be getting better. Only to have to post a “to be continued” the very same evening, as those of you who log in late at night or early in the morning will have seen.

It wasn’t so early when I went to bed, though. That was because I’d crashed out in the chair here while I was writing, and it wasn’t until later that I awoke. At that point, I went to bed and went straight to sleep, which is a surprise, considering the thunder and lightning that was crashing and flashing about outside.

Not that I was asleep for long. I’ve no idea what time it was when I awoke but it was a very long time before 06:29. I lay there tossing and turning for quite a while, and then I continued my experiment about sleeping. I made a definite effort to go to sleep lying on my side, but when I awoke each time, I was lying on my back. I’m not sure of why that is, but it’s annoying. I shall have to chain myself to the bed in memory of Kirk Anderson and Joyce McKinney, although I shan’t "ski naked down Mount Everest in the nude with a carnation up my nose".

At some point, I did go back to sleep long enough to be awoken by the alarm, and then we had the usual struggle to convince myself to rise up off the edge of the bed and head to the bathroom to sort myself out. Not before having unlocked the front door, though.

Once I’d sorted myself out, I came back in here and carried on with the rest of yesterday’s notes. They are now on line, as many of you might have noticed. What I should have done next was to attack the dictaphone notes to find out where I’d been during the night, but the arrival of the nurse confounded me, and I forgot to do them afterwards. Next morning, they eventually found their way on line.

I was in St Pair last night, staying somewhere. We’d heard somewhere that a new Casino supermarket had opened on the edge of the town centre, so I went off to have a look because it wasn’t far away from where we were staying. When I came back, I told everyone that I was disappointed by it because it was only a small, local kind of superette thing rather than the big supermarket that we had been expecting, and they didn’t have very much choice in there at all. While I’d been away, there had been a hockey match played between Denmark and Wales. I heard the result, and Denmark had won 2-0. I was pleased in a sense because it showed that Wales was still being included in these international tournaments and was not being forgotten.

The first part of the dream means nothing to me really, but there was a huge Casino supermarket (now an Intermarché) on the edge of town and I didn’t much like going there because the place was dirty and it never carried much of what I needed.

As for the second part, Wales have recently (on Sunday, in fact) played football against Denmark, and Denmark beat them 2-0. And as for hockey, that’s something that is featuring quite heavily in something else that’s going on right now and I could tell you plenty of stories about it, but the World isn’t yet ready to hear them.

After his week’s rest, the nurse was quite on form, but he was in a rush with patients waiting down at his office so he couldn’t stay around long to talk. However, he was interested to know what they had pumped into me last Monday, but I told him that I didn’t know. He asked me to find out next time I was there.

His leaving was the cue for me to make my breakfast – the usual porridge, toast, coffee and fruit juice. I know that it sounds monotonous, but it’s really the only food that I enjoy eating these days.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

We’re now discussing the trees of the Clee and Longmynd Hills. Especially the giant elms and poplars that seem to thrive there. And although I don’t know much about trees from a biological point of view, I do know that a tree with a twenty-two-foot circumference measured five feet from the ground is an enormous tree and well worth its place on the list of giant trees.

Back in here, I had an hour and fifteen minutes of revision for my Welsh class, and now that my course book has turned up, it’s much easier to revise and prepare.

After that, I went to the lesson, all two and a half hours of it. And once more, it passed really well and I was quite pleased with it. But the acid test is yet to come – our tutor has set us some homework to be done by next Monday. Then we’ll see how much has stuck to my teflon brain.

When the lesson had finished, I went into the kitchen and began bagging up my curry from yesterday. There was enough for five portions, and that should keep me out of mischief for a while. My next effort will be an aubergine and kidney bean whatsit – it’s been ages since I’ve made one of those.

My faithful cleaner caught me in flagrante delicto packing up the stuff when she came in to do her thing. She gave me a hand to move things round in the freezer and then chased me under the shower for my weekly wash.

Back in here later, I started choosing the music for another radio programme. And I found that I was still short of some, so I had to start to search around to see what I could find.

Once I’d found everything that I needed, I had to reformat, re-edit and remix it. And then I had to pair the music off. I’ve not segued it as yet, but I’ll do that tomorrow. I ran out of time, mainly because, would you believe, I crashed out for about an hour while … errr … riding the porcelain horse. How embarrassing was that?

What with working late and there being a football match tonight, I didn’t have time for tea, so instead I had some of those small toasted squares with some of the nice spreading cheese that my cleaner found for me in Leclerc a while back. It was followed by a really nice, juicy orange for pudding.

After that, there was the football. Cardiff Metro v Hwlffordd, a match postponed from a few weeks ago when Cardiff Metro’s under-19 team was playing an European Junior Cup match on the Cyncoed pitch, and why the two teams didn’t offer to switch fixtures and play it at Hwlffordd, I really don’t know.

Anyway, the first half was absolutely dreadful. It was easily the worst forty-five minutes I have ever seen, and that’s a disappointment because both sides usually play some attractive football, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed …

The first ten minutes of the second half were in the same vein, but then we had a really dramatic incident. A Hwlffordd player burst into the penalty area with the ball, but an excellent tackle by a Met defender put the ball out of play, with the Hwlffordd attacker falling over the body of the defender. In a decision that remains a mystery to everyone watching, the ref awarded a penalty.

Not surprisingly, the whole crowd and the Met players were incensed, and I don’t blame them either because I was too. After much dispute and debate, the referee went to consult the VAR cameras, and after a lengthy delay, he rightly revoked the penalty award.

What should then have happened was that he should have awarded a corner kick to Hwlffordd. However, he gave a dropped ball to the Cardiff Met keeper, who then kicked it upfield and the Met went on to score a goal from it.

After that, the game livened up somewhat as Hwlffordd tried to score a goal to equalise. However, they couldn’t make their mark on the game and it finished 1-0 to the Met.

So with that out of the way, I just have a couple more things to do and then I’m off to bed. There’s plenty of work for tomorrow, so I hope that this good-ish mood continues. I’ll have to add in last night’s dreams tomorrow too, so check back at some point.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about trees … "well, one of us has" – ed … a squirrel was sitting in a tree when it began to shake violently. He looked down and saw an elephant climbing the tree.
"Why are you climbing this tree?" asked the squirrel.
"I fancy eating some apples" replied the elephant.
"But this isn’t an apple tree" said the squirrel.
"I know" replied the elephant "but it’s OK. I brought some with me."

LIVE: Monday 28th September 2026 – IT HAS BEEN …

… a fairly uneventful day today. So much so that I had to struggle to think of a dramatic way of opening today’s entry, but in the end I couldn’t, so that was that. Instead, I’ll just stroll on in a chronological timeline until I have a marvellous fit of inspiration.

And so to begin, I didn’t have the early night for which I’d been hoping yesterday. Although it was before 22:30 when I went to bed, it wasn’t many minutes before it. And although I was soon asleep, it wasn’t for as long as I had hoped.

At some point, and I’ve no idea when it was, I awoke. And then I tried to go back to sleep, which was not as easy as it might have been. However, I did notice something bizarre. I can sleep quite well when I’m lying on my left side and even better when I’m lying on my right side, so those are the positions for which I try to aim.

However, when I tried that last night, I’d wake up again a short while later to find myself lying on my back, and that’s a position in which I can never go off to sleep. And thinking about it, I’ve been spending far too much time lying on my back instead of on my sides just recently.

At some point, though, I must have gone to sleep because the alarm at 06:29 awoke me from my slumbers.

We had the usual battle of wills about standing up and heading to the bathroom, and I think that it was only the possibility of meeting Emilie the Cute Consultant at dialysis that drove me onwards, having first remembered to unlock the front door. And in the bathroom, I had a good scrub up and a shave, “just in case”.

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

There was someting last night about me having to fill in some kind of form for something. But when I had the copy back, I noticed that quite a lot of the text that I had written had been removed. There was a note in its place saying “text removed by editor as being too long and not to the point”. I then tried to remember what it was that I had written, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember what I’d written that had been removed.

Strangely enough, I do have a form that needs completing this week. But the bit about having the text removed reminded me of what I had written last night about Kent. That, I suppose, was also too long and not to the point of whatever it is that I’m supposed to be doing.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual. It’s her last day today before her week’s rest, so I wished her good luck. She replied that she’s probably going to need it because it’s raining outside right now.

After she left, I made breakfast (and my new bread is delicious) and read some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Luckily, they finished talking about that gruesome parasite and have moved on to discuss the flora of the Clee Hills and the Longmynd. And in discussing autochthonous plants, he notes "At the Miocene period, or, more strictly, at its dawn, a temperate clime prevailed within the Arctic circle. Poplars, planes, and lime trees grew within twelve degrees of the Pole, and so have beds of the same fossil plants been found in North Greenland, where now an enormous ice cap covers the whole country, leaving only a narrow slip of land free from ice in summer."

When I was in Greenland in 2018 and 2019, I can promise you that it was nothing like as bad as that. I wondered what his opinion back in 1871 was about global warming, but I didn’t have long to wait before I found out.

Just two or three pages further on, we have "Mr. Croll, who attributes the changes of climate marking the different periods of the tertiary epoch to periodical variations in the eccentricity of the earth’s elliptical orbit, tells us that for the last 60,000 years eccentricity has been very small."

Back in here afterwards, I reviewed the radio programme for this coming weekend and sent it off for insertion in the stream, following which I reformatted the music that I need for the programme that I’ll be preparing. When that was all done, I even managed to re-edit a couple of songs that have gone into the folder to await my further instructions.

At 12:00 my faithful cleaner came in and sorted out my anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the taxi. He was late today, and we already had one person in the car. We had to go to St Pair for a third one and then down all these little country lanes where our driver drove as if the hounds of hell were after him. We ended up being three minutes early at dialysis, despite how late we were running earlier.

Today, I was honoured with being placed in a single room, so I was either going to have a medical examination or the head doctor was going to come and give me … "yet" – ed … another lecture about chatting up the nurses. But it was also the farthest possible bed away from the front door. They really are making me work for a living around there.

And being early, I’d arrived at about the same time as everyone else, so I had to wait for a while before they came to sort me out. Although it was the same nurse as Saturday – one of the newer ones – the connecting up was much less painful and I was up and running by 14:20.

At first, all I wanted to do was to sleep – I don’t know why – but I livened up after I’d had my 15:00 coffee and orange juice, so I began to watch the football.

Today’s match was between two of the newly promoted clubs, Cambian United from Andypandy … "he means Tonypandy" – ed … in the Rhondda Valley and Llandudno.

Both these clubs are doing reasonably well and seem to be managing to keep up with the established mid-table clubs, which is more than can be said for some of the others, so I was expecting it to be a good match.

And I wasn’t disappointed either. Both clubs went at it hammer and tongs right from the kick-off and it ended up being one of the best matches that I’ve seen. Plenty of blood and thunder, plenty of skill, plenty of aggression. What really surprised me, though, was that Cambrian roared into a 4-0 lead after forty-seven minutes, and that was a long, long way from representing the balance of play.

In the second half, Llandudno had a change of tactics and managed to claw three goals back, but ran out of time at the end. Still, I’m not complaining at all about the game.

There was also time to watch the first twenty minutes or so of Cardiff Metropolitan v Caernarfon, and I’ll tell you more about that game when I’ve seen the rest of it.

Although I’d seen Emilie the Cute Consultant on my way in, I was right in thinking that the big white chief would come to see me. However, we just talked about the implant in my arm and the pain that it was generating when I was plugged in. He said that he’d have a chat with the nurses about trying a different method.

However, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s not the way that they do it that’s the problem. It’s because the implant itself is damaged, as I have been told on many occasions by the doctor who gives it the six-monthly examinations.

When my time was up, I was unplugged quite quickly while my taxi driver was waiting at the door to my room. It was another one of my favourites, so we had a really good chat all the way home, like we always do. She told me all about her holiday in Brittany and how hot it was. But luckily, the campsite had a pool, so she, her husband and her two kids spent every day sitting in the pool to keep cool.

Funnily enough, I’d been thinking for several days that I hadn’t seen her for a while, but she had come over to chat with me the other day while she was on ambulance duty, and now she had come to take me home.

We were home quite quickly, and my faithful cleaner helped me into the apartment and stuck a disgusting drink into my sweaty little mitt once I’d sat down.

After she left, I added the vegan cream into my curry and gave it a good stir. Then I made some rice and veg and helped myself to a ladleful of curry. It really was delicious, and there’s plenty left to freeze for later.

Back in here, I began to write up my notes, and I was doing quite well ar first. However, this huge wave of sleep came out of nowhere, and as it passed, it took me with it.

When I awoke, I was totally incapable of carrying on, so I posted on line what I’d written up to then and went to bed. The rest can wait until tomorrow morning.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about parasites … "well, one of us has" – ed … Donald Trump was arrested and placed in a filthy parasite-infested cell.
"That must have been awful," said a news reporter "Trump having to share a cell with parasites in it."
"I know" replied his colleague. "I felt really sorry for those parasites."

LIVE: Sunday 27th September 2026 – NOW THAT’S WHAT …

… I call a really decent Sunday Day of Rest.

After I’d left the bed and sorted myself out in the bathroom, it was 11:48 according to the clock on the microwave when I went into the kitchen to start making my breakfast. I was probably out of bed at 11:25 or something like that.

Considering that I hadn’t gone to bed until after midnight, when I was letting it all hang out. And before you ask, I’ve no idea how the night went because I can’t remember. I may have woken up two or three times during the night, but I can’t really remember if I did.

One thing is certain, though, and that is that when Isabelle the Nurse opened the bedroom door, I awoke then. She took my medical card and swiped it through her machine so that she could receive payment from the Social Security. Then she sorted out my feet and legs, saying virtually nothing, and she dealt with my lower legs and feet.

What happened next is rather unclear. What was clear was that it was about 11:10 when I clicked on the clock on my telephone, and I thought that at that moment, I’d better not let myself have any more sleep. Time to show a leg.

As usual, it was another long story to try to stand up, but I eventually made it into the bathroom, and then into the kitchen to make my breakfast – porridge, black coffee, toast and grapefruit juice. And, of course, a pile of morning medication.

While I was eating, I started to read some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870 but what they were discussing threatened to put me off my breakfast, so I looked for a suitable escape route.

Sure enough, there was a passage that prompted me to go off and do some independent research, and somehow, I found myself, after following several other hints, reading up about the Savoia Marchetti SM79 bomber of the first part of the Second World War. I’m still not sure how I arrived there.

Back in here, the first thing that I did was to listen to the dictaphone to find out what went on during the night.

There should have been something on here, but the moment I reached for the dictaphone, it all evaporated.

This is becoming a far too frequent occurrence, and I shall have to take steps to deal with the matter before it becomes any more frequent.

There was something going on in the background. We were all living in Kent, working for a firm that made rope. We learnt to do them so well that the boss had given us a weekend away in a Volkswagen minibus. We thought that that was extremely nice of him. When we arrived at the cottage, it was in a really remote area. The first thing that we did was to send someone in to inspect it. He said that it was quite nice, so we all went in. We then talked about who was sharing which bedroom with who. We went upstairs to look at the bedrooms. They were very basic but looked very nice, and the bed looked very comfortable.

The story about Kent has plenty of basis in fact. When she began to live with that family in London after her father abandoned her, my mother acquired three “great aunts”, relatives of her adopted parents. They were Dolly, Gertie and Mabel. One of them, Gertie, I think, lived in Birchington, and that was where my mother and her adopted parents were living when the Luftwaffe began to bomb Manston airfield, just across the road, in 1940.

Dolly and Gertie lived in a small village called Hamstreet, near Ashford, in the middle of a row of four big old terraced houses.

When we were small kids, we used to spend every summer down there, first at Auntie Gertie’s house until she died, and then with Dolly and Mabel and their two cats, “Pussycat” and “Kattapus”, until finally Mabel died in 1964. Our father would drive us down on the Friday night as soon as school broke up, all the way through Friday night and Saturday, drop us off, have a sleep for a few hours and then go back to Cheshire ready for work on the Monday. Then he’d take the last two weeks of August off, come down and join us and then take us home ready for work and school.

In 2006, I went on a pilgrimage to visit all of the places that I knew in Kent from those days. The house in Birchington was actually up for sale, and that was very much a “get thee behind me, Satan” moment. Still, nostalgia ain’t what it used to be.

After that, there was the football – Stranraer v East Kilbride in the League Cup. This was another end-to-end game that Stranraer eventually won by the odd goal out of seven, confounding the expensive team that East Kilbride have managed to assemble.

After watching another depressing moment as Greenock Morton went down 2-0 to Inverness, I watched the rest of Trefynnon v Llansawel

That was really a very poor match, but Llansawel, even though they were down to ten men after the thirty-fourth minute, played some very nice football, in contrast to Trefynnon’s “kick and rush” tactics. The match ended 1-1, only the third point for Trefynnon, but they were lucky to have that. Even with ten men, Llansawel had the ability to do much better than they did.

Round about this moment, I crashed out, and when I awoke, I was really surprised to find that it was still light. Right at that moment, I didn’t have much of an idea where I was or what time it was, and I expected to find myself in bed in the dark during the night.

That was the key to going to make bread. Another 850-gram sesame seed loaf. And it rose just like it ought to do and baked perfectly now that I have changed the times to eight minutes at 200°C and thirty-two minutes at 180°C. It makes a decent crust, baking it like that.

As well as that, I had the slow cooker out. My friend used my slow cooker while he was here, and he was so impressed that he went out to buy one. Ever since then, he’s been sending me messages about what he’s made and how delicious it was.

Consequently, while I was organising my bread, I began to make a lentil, mushroom and sweetcorn curry, and it’s now working away on “low”, with the hope that it will be ready tomorrow before I go to dialysis. Then I can bag it up for the base of several meals at points in the future, always assuming that my appetite comes back.

Having dealt with the mountains of washing up, I came back in here to write up my notes. And now that they are finished, there are a few more things to do, and then I’ll be going to bed, later than I was hoping, but never mind. I can always sleep at dialysis if they leave me alone and don’t panic when they see me flaked out.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about curry … "well, one of us has" – ed … two guys in Canada were talking about the curries that they had recently eaten.
The first one said "I was invited to a meal with a family of First Nation Canadians. It was a beaver curry."
"That sounds great" said the second one. "What was it like?"
"Just the same as a normal curry, but it was just a little ‘otter."
The second one said "I went to that Indian restaurant at Snowden in Montreal, and I had a pelican curry."
"What was it like?"
"Very nice, but the bill was enormous."

LIVE: Saturday 26th September 2026 – SOMEONE ELSE HAS …

… now said how much better I’m looking these days. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her, the taxi driver who used to live down the road from me in Brussels when she was young, but she actually made a point of coming over to see me after she and her oppo had put their patient out of a stretcher onto the bed.

There have been quite a few people who have said that just recently, and it is nice of them, and you have to admit that so many different people can’t all be wrong, but I just wish that I actually felt like it.

Having said that, I suppose that I ought to feel like it because I had another one of those rare nights when I was actually in bed before my curfew time of 22:30, a time that I go beyond with monotonous regularity.

As for what happened after that, I really have no definite memory. I might have awoken once or twice during the middle of the night, but I wouldn’t like to say so for definite, and I was certainly asleep when the alarm went off.

As usual, it took me a good while after that to find the enthusiasm to stagger to my feet and head off to the bathroom to sort myself out. And while I was in there, I had a good scrub up and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis.

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

I was somewhere in the Balkans last night and we were fighting a revolutionary war against whoever had taken over the state. One of the things that we had was this huge St Bernard dog. Whenever there was any firing or shooting in the neighbourhood, the dog would rush off to try to join in, so we had to restrain him quite heavily. Then we saw the peace treaty that had been drawn up between the country’s militia and our regional militia. There were many, many people with us who didn’t agree with it, so it might be of some use or it might be not, and it might only apply to that immediate area rather than to a wider area, so we decided that we’d test it. We went down in one of the vans and that told us that this peace treaty was to be enforced in our area too, so we trained the dog, and we had it so that it could intercept coded messages and decode them. But it would only be for half an hour or so and then we’d lose this doggy shredder tool for ever.

Although I’ve been in the Balkans on a couple of nights in the recent past, there doesn’t seem to be anything in here that relates to anything that has been going on just recently. A couple of weeks ago I was reading something about the Greek resistance in World War II and the civil war afterwards, but there was certainly no mention of a St Bernard dog anywhere, and no-one had a van.

But the idea of a doggy shredder is a very interesting one. We shall have to try that out on the Hound of the Baskervilles.

There was a lot of us on holiday in Austria. We were staying at someone’s property where they ran an agricultural repair business. The guy who ran the business had just had an operation on his arm, so he wasn’t able to do any heavy maintenance tasks on other people’s vehicles, so his wife, when someone came, she was turning them away and telling them to come back. He had a great deal of difficulty doing this, so he was accepting jobs for two or three weeks hence. The boss of the organisation actually had a camera to film people working in his office to make sure that they were doing the right kind of work. Of course, everyone protested but he still kept them. There was a girl who was the loudest complainant, but the boss said that she spent a lot of time talking to her boyfriend. She said that she does it on a streaming service that runs in parallel with her work so that it doesn’t interrupt her work at all. The boss began to become really heavy on this subject, so I had to intervene. I said that surely the acid test is how much post she has left over at the end of the month. He just threw down his tea towel and marched off. In the meantime, a dumper had pulled up outside. It was one that needed repair and he had seen it a week ago and had put it off until today. And when it came in, it was in no state at all … fell asleep here … As well as this, we’d been skiing. The guy in the dumper asked us if we’d been skiing around here, so we said yes. He was surprised because he didn’t know that there was any snow, but we’d been having a really good time. I’d met this young girl, and she was one of these young girls to whom you could give a tickle and she’d laugh, that sort of thing. I happened to quite like her, so I was lucky enough that one day I managed to take her out. We ended up having a kiss and a cuddle before I took her home. After that, I noticed that she’d cooled off a little and wasn’t so tactile as she had been. When I gave her a tickle, she didn’t do anything, but when the boy sitting next to her did, she laughed. I thought that he’d obviously managed to put himself between the two of us. I thought that that was really a shame because I’d like to get to know this girl better.

There were loads of bits missing from this dream. I remember having a big, full A4 binder, as full as my Welsh one, and having to take certain papers out of it because I imagined that the garage guy would be asking me to fix the machine, the young girl was dressed in a black skirt and black jacket, and there was another, older girl there dressed in a green top and blue skirt.

But there’s plenty of mileage in this dream. Yesterday, I’d been listening to A CHRIS ISAAK CD which includes the song WRONG TO LOVE YOU and that presumably has triggered something off, and it does remind me of one particular skiing trip when we used to go to Aviemore in the early-mid seventies.

As I said, the folder relates to the Welsh folder from last year and the year before that I’ve just put away. As for fixing the dumper on behalf of that garage guy, it wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve had to do that in the garage of someone else.

The area of Austria where we were is that near the Czech border, which we have visited on several occasions in the recent past, and the operation on the arm causing him not to be able to work – an operation on the arm (having an implant inserted for dialysis) is one of the reasons why I haven’t played the guitars for a couple of years.

Turning work away is another thing that I could never do, no matter how inconvenient it was. And there’s plenty more too in that dream, but if I were to start to write it out, I’d still be here in the morning before I finished.

Incidentally, throughout these pages, you’ll see links to Amazon products appearing every now and again. Being a sales associate of Amazon, I receive a small commission on goods sold via my links. It costs you nothing at all extra, but helps defray … "part of the" – ed … cost of my not-insubstantial web-hosting fees.

There are also links for AMAZON UK, AMAZON USA and since the recent “troubles”, AMAZON CANADA for the use of my numerous Canadian visitors, and now in response to a request that I received, AMAZON GERMANY. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I am extremely grateful when someone uses the links to make a purchase.

Hurricane Isabelle the Nurse blew in rather later than usual and treated me here in the bedroom where I was working. Apparently, a previous client had held her up for fifteen minutes and she had two patients programmed to meet her down at her office almost imminently, so she was interested in shaving as many minutes off her appointments as she could.

After she left, I went into the kitchen to make breakfast, and while I was eating it, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Today, we are reading about the Rhipiphorus Paradoxus or “wasp nest beetle”, whose larvae are parasites of the wasp larvae. This is really not my sort of thing at all, but if I keep on reading, I might actually learn something, and isn’t that why I’m reading all these books anyway?

Back in here, there were a few things that needed doing, and then I had to search around for all the music that I need for the radio programme that I’ll be preparing next week. I needed to track down some music for five of the artists who will be making their appearance, but I managed that before I had to go to make myself ready for dialysis.

My faithful cleaner came too to apply the anaesthetic on my arm, and after she left, I had to wait for the taxi. Not that I had long to wait because the driver was here ten minutes early. And as I was the only passenger today, she had me there by 13:30.

And there, I didn’t have to wait long before I was connected up either. I was up and running by 14:05.

No-one bothered me at all today except the nurses who came running every half an hour when the blood pressure alarm sounded. No doctors or anything. So I could watch the football in peace.

We started with a match from several weeks ago, a qualifying match in the Welsh Cup between Evans and Williams v Port Talbot Town. I managed to see just over half of it before today’s matches kicked off.

My choice this afternoon was the basement clash between Y Fflint and Rhydaman. This was a match that both clubs needed to win if they were to have any chance of hauling themselves out of the mire at the bottom, so I expected them both to be going at it hammer and tongs.

And I was right too. Y Fflint played the nicer football – much nicer, in fact, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … but Rhydaman had the best of the early chances, hitting the woodwork when it was easier to score and also having a goal disallowed for offside.

Y Fflint really do play some nice football, though, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … and it really is a mystery why they have had such poor results. What they haven’t had in any of their matches is a fair share of the luck.

However, all of that changed this afternoon. An over-hit kick upfield from the Fflint midfield found Rhydaman’s goalkeeper and central defender in a helpless tangle as they both went for the same ball, leaving Y Fflint’s centre-forward with the easiest of tap-ins to open the scoring, and a few minutes later, the Rhydaman goalkeeper dropped what should have been a simple catch right at the feet of the Fflint centre-forward, who thanked him very much for the opportunity to score again.

And later in the game, while Rhydaman were throwing everything, including the kitchen sink, at the Fflint defence, a quick clearance out saw a Fflint midfielder run the whole length of the pitch and slide the ball past the stranded keeper for a third.

Y Fflint have been threatening to give some club a right doing-over, but while 3-0 is not actually the score that I had in mind, it’s good enough to be going on with. And it really was an enjoyable game to watch too.

And just a mention about the crowd who saw Penybont come from behind to beat Airbus UK Broughton. It was the fourth-highest crowd in the history of the Cymru Premier League, and if that’s not an achievement, I don’t know what is.

The taxi was waiting for me when I went outside afterwards. It was the same driver who brought me, and once more, I was the only passenger, so I was home by 18:15. My faithful cleaner was waiting for me and she helped me into the apartment. When I was sitting comfortably, she shoved a disgusting drink into my sweaty mitt.

After she left, I made the baked beans, chips and sausage that I should have had yesterday, and then had a soya yoghurt and a prune for pudding.

Back in here, I saw the start of the match between Trefynnon and Llansawel, and then I began to write up my notes from today. And now that they are done, there are just a few more things to do, and then my Sunday lie-in. Isabelle the Nurse can deal with my feet and legs while I’m in bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about crowds … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the time a man squeezed into a crowded lift.
"Ballroom, please" he said.
"I’m sorry" said the woman in front of him. "Am I crowding you?"

LIVE: Wednesday 23rd September 2026 – WHAT A LOVELY …

… day I’ve had today!

Round about 10:30 this morning, the doorbell rang and there on the doorstep were Liz and Terry. They have come over to Normandy to catch up on friends and contacts, and I was one of the people whom they wished to see, which was really nice of them.

Actually, I could do with some cheering up today because it was another awful night last night. I was actually in bed by 22:30, which makes a change, and I was looking forward to a good eight hours’ sleep until the alarm went off at 06:29.

However, it was not to be. I awoke again at some early time in the morning – and it was early too because the lights were on in the car park so it must have been before 02:30. After that, I lay there for a while, tossing and turning and trying to go to sleep.

Eventually, I looked at the time and it was 05:52, so I reckoned that in five minutes, I’ll haul myself out of bed and claim another early start. The next thing that I remembered was the alarm going off. Why is it that I always fall asleep at the wrong moment? Why couldn’t I have fallen asleep an hour earlier?

It took the usual long, long period for me to find the courage and enthusiasm to haul myself out of bed, and the first thing that I did was to go and sort myself out in the bathroom.

Back in here, there were the dictaphone notes to transcribe, so I set to work on those.

This is another one of those dreams that evaporated when I was picking up the dictaphone. I was walking around Crewe with an old friend of mine. We were by the new parade of shops in Market Street. I happened to mention that I’d written a book and he said that he would love to be able to read it and maybe have a copy. But I told him that it was a bit of a children’s fairy tale more than anything else, but he still seemed to be interested in having a copy. That’s all that I remember of this.

Even if I can’t remember very much about this dream, I can still see where it took place. It was at the beginning of Market Street, where Lloyds Bank used to be in the olden days, and we went over Chester Bridge and down past the top of High Street towards the traffic lights by the “Duke of Bridgewater” pub where we intended to turn right into Wistaston Road.

The story about the children’s book is of course true. I’m still on chapter twelve at the moment, not having had the time to go any further with it just recently, and I’m still looking for a reader, but it has to be a child or someone who understands children, and that would rule my friend out immediately.

There was a bit more about that dream that I remembered later. I’d often go out in the morning for a walk and I’d always end up at the same bookshop at a couple of minutes after 09:00 when it opened. There would be people sitting at tables reading books, there would be lots of new books there, and there would be records and second-hand records. There was a hi-fi section at the back and I was looking at the hi-fi equipment, thinking that I’d had my hi-fi equipment since 1985 and it’s forty-one years old. I was looking around at all these things, but I ended up at the counter at the bakery. I’d buy some bread and some croissants and take most of them home. Then I’d go out again another day at the same time.

The shop in this dream reminded me of the old British Home Stores shop in Crewe, demolished when they knocked down the town centre a couple of years ago. And I’m impressed by the memory of when I bought the hi-fi and the maths of working out how long it is that I’ve owned it, while I was asleep.

The story in this dream about buying the bread and taking it home reminded me of when I had to go into work in Brussels early some Saturday mornings for a couple of hours, I’d always come home with couques (patisseries) for breakfast for Laurence, Roxanne and me. It’s a Belgian national habit of eating patisseries for breakfast on a Sunday morning, but we’d have them too for a Saturday morning breakfast if I was up and about.

Another thing about this dream is that I began it by saying “there’s a bit more about that dream,” referring to the first dream. However, I can’t see where the second part would fit into it.

Later on, there was something about baking. I’d been baking with whatever bits of equipment I happened to find. Either I’d bought or someone had given me a huge collection of baking accessories like moulds, whisks and things like that – there were all sorts – so my assistant and I began to make something for tea. I thought that it came out extremely well, so I discussed it with someone else. I remember saying that it always used to cook OK when I lived here, but of course it was twenty years ago and things could possibly have changed in that time.

This does sound very much like my own experience here – cooking with a make-do set of equipment accumulated one by one over the past thirty-four years. Yes, that’s how long it has been since I left the UK. I keep on meaning to upgrade the baking equipment with a proper kit, but up to now, I’ve yet to find what I need.

And it was actually twenty years ago back in April when I left the big apartment at the Avenue d’Exposition in Brussels and moved down to the farm. It was impressive remembering that too while I was asleep.

As for the kitchen assistant too, there’s a story behind that, but the World is not yet ready to hear it.

Halfway through transcribing the dictaphone notes, I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t unlocked the front door. I had to dash … "well, sort of" – ed … into the living room and unlock it before she arrived.

It didn’t take long for her to turn up either, so I was only just in time. She asked if I had any news about the Hound of the Baskervilles, so I explained that it was Oktoberfest time in Munich so I’ll be expecting garbled reports for the next couple of weeks until the festival closes down and everyone sobers up.

After she had dealt with my feet and legs, she cleared off on her rounds and I went to make my breakfast – porridge and toast with coffee and fruit juice to wash down my medication. While I was eating, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Not very much more of it because, whilst talking about Llangorse Lake, it was coming up with all kinds of interesting facts and curious stories, so I spent much of the time following up these leads and enlightening myself on old Breconshire myths and legends.

Back in here, there were the usual things to do, and I also reviewed the radio programme for this coming weekend and sent it off ready for adding into the stream for broadcasting.

And then, we had the famous knock on the door.

There’s an old Roman saying, originally by Virgil – "timeo Danaos et dona ferentes" meaning “beware of Greeks bringing gifts”, but anyone who comes to my house bringing six tins of baked beans for me is more than welcome. And not only that, it’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen them, so just like the Hound of the Baskervilles and his master, they are always welcome here whenever they pass by.

The first thing that I did was to make Liz a coffee, and then we sat down and brought each other up to date with the latest news – and there was a lot to say too. It was wonderful to catch up with old friends like this.

My faithful cleaner breezed in too. She’d been to the chemists and fetched my medication for the next month. And when she opened the medication drawer, Liz gasped. She hadn’t seen as much medication in one place outside a pharmacy before.

At lunchtime, we made a salad with lettuce, tomatoes, olives, cucumbers, kidney beans and potatoes and it really was nice too. There is some left over too so I might have that tomorrow night for tea if I’m hungry. But as I said last night, I don’t know what’s happened, but I seem to have my appetite coming slowly back. And Isabelle the Nurse seems to think that it may well be the perfusion that I had on Monday that has stimulated me as well as the red blood cells (I asked her this morning).

We carried on chatting until about 16:30 when Liz and Terry left. They are only here for a few days and they had other fish to fry, so I thanked them for their visit and I look forward to the next time.

After they had gone, I had a rather late disgusting drink and midday medication and then came in here to do some work, but instead, I crashed out for a while. That’s a disappointment because for the last couple of days, I’ve managed to keep going and I had hoped that this run would continue. I shall have to work harder.

Anyway, once I’ve backed up and done the stats, I shall be off to bed for … "he hopes" – ed … an early night.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the chemists … "well, one of us has" – ed … my cleaner told me that she was there when another woman came in.
She went up to the chemist and asked him "do you have cotton wool balls, by any chance?"
The chemist replied "what do you think I am, madam? A teddy bear?"

LIVE: Tuesday 22nd September 2026 – I DON’T KNOW …

… why, but today, I seem to have had one of the better days that I have had for a considerable period of time. Even my cleaner noticed that I was much more bright and chirpy than my normal self.

It surely can’t be the perfusion that I had yesterday? I would imagine that that would take a few days before it started having any effect, but apart from that, nothing else seems to have changed, so I dunno.

It wasn’t the early night either because it wasn’t as early as I would have liked it to be either. It was probably about 22:45 when I finally hit the hay.

And that’s another thing too – looking back a couple of weeks or so ago, I was flat out and desperate to go to bed at some kind of ridiculously early hour, and that’s especially true of the nights when I have had dialysis in the afternoon, but just recently, there have been several nights after midnight and I was still letting it all hang out.

And last night, after dialysis, I would have normally expected to have gone to bed at about 20:30 or 21:00, but I was still going strong at, as I said just now, 22:45. So I’ve no idea what’s happening right now.

But once I’d gone to bed, I managed to go to sleep fairly quickly, but once more, it wasn’t for long. I awoke again at some early hour – I’ve no idea what time because I didn’t look – and couldn’t go back to sleep.

At some point, though, I must have managed it because I remember waking up again. This time I did look at the time and it was 05:52. I decided that I wouldn’t try to go back to bed but I’d have another early start.

By 06:15 I was in the bathroom sorting myself out and then came back in here to start work.

The first thing that I did was to transcribe the notes on the dictaphone. There was nothing on there from last night, but I dealt with Sunday’s dream and there was also something from Monday morning. Those two web pages are now on line, for the benefit of those of you who are here for the dreams and not for news of my really exciting and eventful life.

While I was at it, I checked the stats and there was yet another hit from an artificial intelligence chatbot.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up to start her week and, silly me, I’d left the door locked from last night so she had to use the key that I gave her and her oppo the other week. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I’ve been locking the door to the apartment at night since I had that strange nocturnal visitor a few weeks ago.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Not very much of it because, as usual, I was side-tracked and ended up reading about the mountains on the fringe of the Mynyddoedd Duon or “Black Mountains” of Breconshire and neighbouring counties. That was much more exciting.

Back in here, I revised for my Welsh and then went to class. And surprisingly, it was one of the best lessons that I have ever had, even though it’s only the second lesson of another year. That probably contributed to my good humour, especially as after the lesson a few of us had a group chat on the internet and I managed to keep up with the conversation.

And that wasn’t the only conversation that I had had either. All in all, there was a total of four conversations with different people, and they were all welcome.

After a disgusting drink break, my cleaner put her sooty foot in the apartment and the first thing that she did was, as usual on a Tuesday, to chase me into the shower. While I was in there showering, she changed the bedclothes on my bed so now, you have a nice clean boy … "well, clean, anyway" – ed … and a nice clean bed.

We also had a good chat about several things, including about the retired skipper who was found dead in a burnt-out apartment the other day.

After she left, I attacked the radio programme that I’d been working on before my holidays. Now, all of the music has been located, re-edited and reformatted, paired and segued. All I need to do now is to write the notes and then that’s ready to go too. And that reminds me – I haven’t checked this week’s radio programme yet so I must do that tomorrow without fail.

On that point, I knocked off for tea. And surprisingly, I was hungry too so I made pasta and veg in tomato sauce with falafel, and it would have been delicious had I not dropped a lot of used oil onto it straight out of the air fryer. So I ate what I could and the incident reminded me to
1) Be more careful with the air fryer
2) Wash the air fryer out more regularly.

And when I did the washing up later, I did indeed wash out the air fryer and I hope that on Friday, when I have my chips, it will produce some really good ones.

But again, I had a meal tonight and half a meal last night, and I’m promising myself an evening meal on Friday. So what IS going on with me right now?

Back in the office, I typed up the notes for tonight and then checked the stats and so on. With a bit of luck, God’s help and a bobby, I might actually manage an early night tonight. So here’s hoping that this good mood continues tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the dreams from Sunday night, the first night and a friend … "well, one of us has" – ed … It reminds me of the story generally attributed to George Bernard Shaw and Winston Churchill but actually concerned Noël Coward and Randolph Churchill.
Coward – "I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend—if you have one."
Churchill – "Cannot possibly attend the first night; will attend the second—if there is one"

LIVE: Monday 21st September 2026 – YET ANOTHER CHAOTIC …

… day at dialysis – just the same (give or take the odd bit here and there) as last Monday, and I wasn’t really in the mood for it, because I’ve had a chaotic day too.

Last night, it wasn’t too far short of midnight when I finally made my way into bed, and the good news was that I was asleep quite quickly.

However, it wasn’t for long, though. I’ve no idea what time I awoke, but as it was pitch-black outside, I’d say that it wasn’t much after 02:30. And once awake, I lay there tossing and turning and trying to make myself comfortable in bed so that I could go back to sleep, but nothing seemed to work.

At least, that’s what I thought, but round about 06:05 I had another one of those dramatic awakenings that I used to have regularly at one point. There was no point in going back to sleep at that point, with all of my appointments today, so by 06:15 I was in the bathroom organising myself ready for the onslaught. I even had a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant later.

There was actually something on the dictaphone from the night, as I found out on Tuesday morning, so I’ve added it in here.

There was something last night about me being sent to one of these RAF filling station type of places where people go after they have been injured or after they’ve been sick and their position in their regular flight had been filled by someone else. So I’d been sent to this place to meet up with other people similar to form a crew, and then I suddenly realised that I can’t have done that because I wasn’t born until nine years after the war ended so it’s just not possible for me to have been there.

There actually was a place like this at one of the RAF training centres, although it was hardly a “filling station” in the normal usage of the term. Bomber crews were assembled simply amongst themselves towards the end of their training and they usually stuck together throughout their tour of thirty missions. However, if someone were sick or injured, someone else would be co-opted into the crew and when the original member returned to duty, he would find that his place had been taken. Consequently he’d be sent to the “training centre” where he could team up with other people to form a new crew.

However, I’m impressed that within a dream, I can recognise the absurdity of the situation of being in this training centre at least nine years before I was even born.

Back in the kitchen, I put away the washing up from yesterday and made sure that the place looked nice. After that, I finished organising what I needed to take with me and then had a little snooze hunched over the table while I waited for the taxi to arrive.

The car was booked for 08:15, and my doorbell rang at 08:14. Excellent timing, that was. There was just me going in the car this morning. We had patchy fog all the way, not as bad as my chauffeur said it was when she started work at 05:30 this morning.

We arrived at the hospital bang on 09:00, and she pushed me in a wheelchair up to the hôpital de jour. I know that I have said that I won’t go in a wheelchair, but where I was going was miles away from the entrance and, at this time of the morning, the drivers have plenty of other things to do that accompany me, slowly and painfully on foot.

The nursing auxiliary and the nurse fussed around me when I arrived, and wasn’t the latter relieved when I said I had a chemotherapy port? It made her task so much easier and mine too because I could then type with both hands.

By about 09:40 I was up and running with this stuff to stimulate my red blood cells, and I was told that the treatment would last a little over two hours.

The bad news (at first) was that there seemed to be no internet up there, but I had a ferret around and eventually managed to conjure up something, so I watched LLansawel against Trefelin from Friday night. It was a miserable night last Friday, and playing football in a monsoon on a paddy field wasn’t very encouraging. It was something of a lottery out there and I don’t think that the teams could have been too dissatisfied with the end result.

As for the fans, though, it was no real spectacle. It was a long-ball hoof upfield and another long-hoof upfield in reply. I could count on the fingers of my hand the number of passes that found a team mate. I’m sure that in this weather, they would have been better off playing the ball to feet instead of in the air.

After that, I started Connah’s Quay Nomads v Cardiff Metro. I didn’t get to see much of it so I’ll tell you about it later.

During the morning, I had a visit from no less a person than Emilie the Cute Consultant. She came to see how I was doing and, once more, just like two years ago, she sat on the end of my bed while she chatted. The plan that they have worked out is that because they have still not been able to arrange anything with a haematologist, I’ll have to come here every four weeks for this treatment. And right on cue, the nurse came with my next appointment – Monday 19th October at 09:30.

And it really was nice to chat to Emilie the Cute Consultant. It seems that she still loves me.

Round about 11:50, the treatment was finished and the nurse unplugged me. She said that I had to wait for a while to let my head clear and, in any case, the taxi would be here to take me across the road at about 13:30. Waiting wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought, especially as I was brought a meal – stuffed tomatoes, bread, sliced pears and an apple purée. It was better than the coffee earlier, though, which was served in just about the oldest mug I have ever seen.

Round about then, I began to wonder when the nurse was going to come back to apply the anaesthetic on my arm. There was no sign so I asked the nursing auxiliary, who replied that all of the nurses had gone for lunch. So what are the connections going to be like with no anaesthetic, do you think?

The car turned up bang on schedule and took me across the road. I was there at 13:40 but had to wait until 14:30 to be plugged in. Had I known that the wait was going to be so long, I’d have persuaded one of the nurse there to apply my anaesthetic there and then as I arrived.

The connections were nothing like as painful I was expecting. In fact, I’ve had worse than those even when I’ve been covered in anaesthetic, so I didn’t mind too much.

Once I was finally up and running, I was left pretty much alone for the session. The low blood pressure alarm didn’t ring at all – not even once.

However, I was really feeling tired – I’d had a battle to keep away across the road – but here, I did actually fall asleep, only to be shaken awake by a nurse who was afraid that I was busy pushing up the daisies. And another one of the doctors came to see me to find out how I was doing. I’ve no idea what is the reason for this sudden popularity.

The next match to watch was the rest of Connah’s Quay Nomads v Cardiff Metro. Another game played in a monsoon, it was another one of these end-to-end games, but the Nomads’ class showed through in the end and they went on to win 1-0.

The old guy who was rushed to hospital last week was there today, looking much better. However, it was the turn of a woman this time who began to have problems. All the nurses and doctors congregated around her and in the end, my chauffeur was hijacked to rush her over the road to the emergencies.

They had begun to unplug me, but as everyone was finishing at the same time, I was left until almost last. The nurse came to offer her excuses, but I told her that although I don’t mind waiting, I’d be much happier if they left my machine running so that I could take advantage of the extra time.

Eventually, my chauffeur arrived, the young chatty guy. We had someone else to drop off en route so it was a miserable 19:05 when I finally arrived home. My cleaner helped me into the apartment and stuck a disgusting drink into my sweaty little mitt.

After she left, I made a quick tea – just a little potato salad because I wasn’t all that hungry tonight.

So now, having finished my notes, I’m going to try to have an early night for once.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the hôpital de jour … "well, one of us has" – ed … I overheard two of the nurses talking to each other
"I hear that there’s a case of brucellosis just come in" said the one.
"Oh well," said the other. "It’ll make a change from Lucozade."

LIVE: Sunday 20th September 2026 – IN THE PAST …

… I have received many requests. Most of them are physically impossible – not even I can do that – but others are quite within my grasp and so I try my best to fulfil them.

Consequently, one request that I have received quite recently and with which I have replied is to make an Amazon link that works in Germany and Austria. Well, I already have links to AMAZON USA, AMAZON UK and AMAZON CANADA to satisfy my various readers, so why not create one for my German-speaking readers?

And so, with effect from this morning, AMAZON GERMANY has hit the streets.

It’s still the same old rhetoric, as in

There are also links for AMAZON UK, AMAZON USA and, since the recent “troubles”, AMAZON CANADA for the use of my numerous Canadian visitors, and now in response to a request that I received, AMAZON GERMANY. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I am extremely grateful when someone uses them to make a purchase.

only now with the AMAZON GERMANY link included. I hope that it works, so if someone would care to try it, I would be grateful.

But anyway, leaving all of that aside for the moment, last night was another horribly late night – it was after 00:30 when I finally made it into bed but I wasn’t worried because I was hoping for a decent sleep and a good lie-in … "poor naive fool" – ed …

Whatever time it was that I awoke, I’ve no idea, but everything was pitch-black, so it must have been after 02:30 when the car park lights switched off. And from then on, I couldn’t make myself comfortable and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I was tossing and turning for hours, thinking “what a waste of a good night this is.”

But eventually I must have gone back to sleep because the nurse awoke me to sort out my legs and feet. At least that proves that the key to the apartment door works, which is good news, I suppose.

After he left, I curled up back under the quilt to try to go back to sleep, but I received a message from a friend. It looks like I might be having another visit soon. So there I was, under the quilt, having a text conversation on the ‘phone for about half an hour.

However, the forces of nature drove me from my bed and I thought that seeing as I’m up, I may as well stay up, so I made my breakfast.

No book today though, people. The travelling laptop is still in the backpack so that I can have an early start tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to this hôpital de jour, that’s for sure. And then straight over afterwards to dialysis. I’ll be out all day so I must remember to review the next radio programme on Tuesday afternoon after my Welsh lesson.

And talking of my Welsh lesson, I must remember not to sing in it while I’m working. I don’t want to make a fool of myself again.

After breakfast, I came back in here. There were several things that needed doing, and it is only now that I have realised that I’ve forgotten to transcribe the dictaphone notes. It took me until Tuesday morning to actually find the time to transcribe them, so here we go –

There had been some kind of evening get-together somewhere in someone’s house. I wasn’t really able to make it on the first night but I was there for the second one. It wasn’t really something that interested me too much but some of my friends were there. So we bided time and that was that. A few weeks later, I bumped into one of my friends who told me that he’d picked up a certain illness or disease down there on the first night. I asked him who else was involved and he replied that it was the woman who was actually the host of it. I asked him what on earth he’s told his wife. He replied that his wife had had a couple of strokes and so on so it’s not an issue with her. We set out again and we were in London again, walking down this road which was a big, wide dual carriageway type of road out of the centre of London. As we were walking, we were looking at the thousands of people queueing up at the bus stops and thinking about how on earth are they all going to get home? There were queues that stretched for whole city blocks and eventually we arrived at that house again where we’d had this party. My friend told me not to say anything because he was quite interested in dealing with things in a different way.

There is more of an element of truth in this that anyone might realise at the time, although it’s split into two parts. One part goes back all the way fifty-odd years, whereas the other part is of a much more recent date.

Next on Sunday was the football – Elgin City v Stranraer. And for once, all of the luck and the rub of the green went Stranraer’s way and they beat Elgin City 5-1, which was a wonderful achievement.

When I first picked them up four or five years ago, I dunno, they were propping up the table and had to win a vital relegation match in order to stay in the professional pyramid. Today, they are second in the table. Let’s hope that they can keep it up.

There was no other football that was worth watching today, but it reminded me of the Airbus UK Broughton v Y Fflint that we watched the other day. Airbus don’t attract big crowds to their games – everyone preferring to go down the road to watch Chester – and they’ll never have a four-figure crowd there unless something dramatic happens, but last night, there was a group of about four young girls, probably about eight, nine or ten years old, chanting “Let’s Go Airbus, Clap Clap”, and they were making far more noise chanting than the rest of the crowd combined. I wasn’t sure whether to applaud the kids or pour scorn on everyone else.

This afternoon, there were some photos on my computer that needed to be sent by ‘phone to someone, so I set to work. However, access to my ‘phone was for some reason forbidden. The ‘phone kept on coming up with “this device is unavailable”.

As a consequence, I set to work to try to resolve it, but nothing that I seemed to try seemed to work. As a result, I engaged the services of a local chatbot and after more than five hours, we were still getting nowhere. In the end, the chatbot found a program that worked remotely via the wi-fi connection and I managed to do what needed to be done. However, I was far too tired to send the photos off afterwards.

In between all of that, I was baking. And now I have a lovely sesame-seed loaf that looks delicious and I hope that it tastes as good as it looks. I shall find out on Tuesday – not tomorrow because I’m leaving here far too early for breakfast and in any case, I work on the principle of “what doesn’t go in won’t want to come out.” While I was baking, though, I had a handful of almonds and a couple of those toasty biscuit things.

So now, later than intended … "as usual" – ed … I’m going to bed, and with a bit of luck, I might even sleep. Who knows?

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about football … "well, one of us has" – ed … there was a court cse about an orphan boy and who should have custody of him.
The judge suggested his grandparents, but he cried and said "but every night, before I go to bed, my aunt beats me."
So the judge suggested his aunt, but the boy cried again and said "and she’s even worse. She beats me when I get up as well as when I go to bed."
So after much deliberation, the judge sent him to live with the English international football team, and that was to the boy’s satisfaction.

LIVE: Saturday 19th September 2026 – I HAD TWO …

… phantom alarms during the night And I know that the first one of them was a phantom alarm because I was awake (at least, I think that I was) when it sounded. But it wasn’t the usual RAUCOUS RATTLE OF BILLY COTTON but more like a series of these wind bells ringing down in the bottom corner of the bedroom where the chest of drawers is.

The second one went off when I was asleep, and that WAS Billy Cotton. It went off at about 04:00 or so because, after I’d been tossing and turning around for quite a while, I saw that the time was 04:38.

So an 04:00 awakening this morning, which, considering that I didn’t go to bed until after 00:30 this morning, hasn’t let me have much sleep at all. It’s a good job that I’m in dialysis this afternoon so, if necessary, I can have a good sleep.

At some point much later on, I tucked myself up in the only position that seems to be able to make me go to sleep. It’s quite uncomfortable, and I usually wake up to find that I’m flat on my back again, but during the latter part of the night last night I didn’t move and was still there when the alarm went off.

This morning, it was more of a struggle than most mornings to rise to my feet, but the lure of Emilie the Cute Consultant was sufficient to attract me into the bathroom for a good wash and scrub up, and even a shave.

Back in here, I found that there was nothing on the dictaphone from last night, but when I had woken up earlier, there were a couple of things going on in my head as if I’d been awoken in the middle of a dream before I’d had time to record it. So, for what they are worth, I’ve written down what little I remember of them.

The first part seemed to relate to someone in this apartment looking for a teatowel. However, I awoke and noticed that they were all in here and I was covered in them, so there was definitely something strange going on.

And the second part took place round about now – towards the end of September (in my head I had the feeling that it was the 22nd of September) – here in France, and I was dressed in my winter jacket, gloves and woolly hat as if it were mid-winter, and other people were dressed for winter too.

There doesn’t seem to be anything at all to connect these two little bits with anything that has gone on in real life just recently. The closest connection that I can make is being up in the High Arctic in mid- to late September when I was certainly in winter clothing – as much of it as I could wear.

There were a few other things to do, and then the nurse arrived to interrupt me. He asked about the Hound of the Baskervilles, so I told him what I knew, and then he began to speak to me in German. My German isn’t as good as it ought to be, but I managed to answer him to a certain degree.

After he left, I made my breakfast, and while I was eating, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

We’re still on meteorology, and while I was reading it, I came across this report – "1816 was a very wet, cold season. Wheat out at Christmas, and the head so bad “that it would stick if thrown against a wall.” The season said to be as bad as in 1698."

Strangely enough, that was the only entry for severe weather in 1816, and that surprised me, for in 1815, there was the volcanic eruption of Mount Tambora on the island of Sumbawa, these days part of Indonesia. It is said to be the largest eruption in recorded history and the fallout from the volcanic ash was such that 1816 was said to be “the year without a summer” and “an agricultural disaster” with food shortages, famine and starvation.

Why there aren’t any more entries relating to this period is a total mystery.

Back in here with just two hours to go before I need to make myself ready for dialysis, but I couldn’t think of what to do in that period. It’s not very often that I have a block like that. So on the basis of “if you don’t know what to do, just do something, or anything,” so I wrote chapter ten of my book.

This was going to be the last chapter, but I seem to have let my fingers run away with themselves on the keyboard just recently, so there are at least two chapters still to do, plus the preface and the conclusion. But this has always been a challenge for me – sticking within a word count. You give me a word limit and I’ll go beyond it, sometimes by a country mile too.

When the alarm went off, I took myself off into the kitchen to sort out my midday medication and my disgusting drink. My cleaner duly turned up to sort out my anaesthetic and a couple of other little tasks too, and once she’d left, I had to wait for the taxi.

Not that I was waiting long because it was here at 12:40. We had to go to Champeaux to pick up someone else, and we were at the dialysis centre at 13:30. By 14:10 I was up and running too.

There were no interruptions, apart from the nurses running to deal with the blood pressure alarm every half-hour. Not even a doctor came to see me, so I could watch the football in mostly peace and quiet in my little room.

Yesterday, I mentioned the game between Caernarfon and Cambrian United, so that was my choice. And it was as chaotic as the newsfeed report said it was.

There was Caernarfon’s goalkeeper running the ball out of play, which led to fisticuffs between him and a Cambrian forward that saw both of them sent off. Later on, another Cambrian player was sent off for “denying a goalscoring opportunity”.

Caernarfon’s ten men were far too good for Cambrian’s nine, and it became an embarrassment as the Caernarfon players cut through the Cambrian defence like a hot knife through butter. There were actually nine different goal scorers making up Caernarfon’s total, and if that’s not a record, I don’t know what is.

After it finished, I watched the first half of Hwlffordd v Trefynnon, but once more I ran out of time. I’ll tell you about it when I’ve finished watching it.

When the session was finished, I had to wait a few minutes to be unplugged, and after that, another fifteen minutes for my taxi. But at least, I was the only passenger so I was home by 18:30.

My cleaner was sitting on her mushroom waiting for me, and she helped me into the apartment, sticking a disgusting drink into my sweaty little mitt. After she left, I made some food, just a handful of pasta and vegetables with melted butter.

Back in here, there was yet more football – a Welsh Cup match between Denbigh of the second tier and Trearddur Bay of the third tier. And when you are 1-0 down in the seventy-ninth minute with two players already sent off, as Denbigh were, what would be the betting on a Denbigh win?

It was only then that Denbigh began to play. And how is it possible for Trearddur Bay, with a two-man advantage, to leave a Denbigh player unmarked at the far post? That was one goal back to equalise, and then with two minutes to go, they scored a second.

The game itself was quite agricultural, and even though it’s second tier v third tier, I was expecting far better football than this. But I’ve seen worse on my travels, I suppose.

But I won’t be seeing any more tonight, unless they appear in my dreams, because I’m off to bed. It’s way past my bedtime. But at least (in principle) I can have a lie-in tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about agricultural disasters … "well, one of us has" – ed … an aeroplane crashed in a field and the local search and rescue brigade dashed to the scene.
They noticed two things – firstly that there was a farmer nearby wiping his hands, and the second was that the aeroplane was Air Force One.
"Oh my God! What a disaster!" exclaimed the brigade leader. Then he turns to the farmer and asks "where are the survivors?"
"There weren’t any" replies the farmer. "I just finished burying them"
"Even Donald Trump? Surely he must be alive at least!"
"Well, he told me that he was, but you know what a big liar he is."

EPIC HALL

The Poisoned Pen (or Poisoned Chalice, more like) – or my relentless struggle against reality