Tag Archives: lie in

Tuesday 12th July 2016 – I NEEDN’T HAVE BOTHERED …

… to go to all of this effort and worry about this morning.

I breezed into the bank, checked my accounts, and then gave the bank cashier the kind of instructions that would normally have caused a considerable amount of upset and confusion, and probably have led to the involvement of the bank’s Head Office. And I was prepared for quite an argument too.

But to my total surprise, and in an attitude that is going to change the way that I think about banking in the depths of darkest rural France, the bank clerk carried out my instructions to the letter without even batting an eyelid and, even more astonishingly given everything that was involved, without even asking to see any identification.

We were in there, out and gone in less than two minutes and that must be something of a record.

I had a reasonable night’s sleep in the nice comfy bed at Liz and Terry’s. So reasonable in fact that I only left it twice, and when the alarm went off at 07:00, I promptly turned over and went straight back to sleep. It’s been a good while since I’ve done that, hasn’t it?

Off to Pionsat and the bank, and then round to my house to sort out my mail and pick up a few things that I might need. And what a mess my place is in. Brambles, weeds and long grass everywhere. It’s just so depressing. I’ve asked Terry if he’ll attack it with a strimmer if he has five minutes, then I’ll be able to find the front door.

We went shopping for food, and I bought a baguette to make some butties for tomorrow seeing as I’m back on my travels to Leuven after all of this. I didn’t get to stay for very long, did I?

Nothing happened in the afternoon – I stayed in and did some work on the blog to bring it up-to-date – and then tonight after tea we had the laugh of our lives.

Celtic, Scottish football champions, were playing Lincoln Red Imps, Champions of that major and important footballing nation … errr … Gibraltar, in a Champions League match which could not unreasonably have ended up with a cricket score. And the final result? Lincoln Red Imps 1, those giants of Scottish football … errr … 0. I’ve never laughed so much in all my life.

So another early night, because it’s a 06:00 start. I need to be on the road by 07:00 as it’s a long way to Lyon and the Part-Dieu station for my train. But at least once I’m on it, it’s direct to Brussels with just three stops and no messing about in Paris.

Over 800kms in well under four hours. That’s the beauty of the TGV

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Sunday 26th June 2016 – I’M DISAPPOINTED …

… with that pizza place that I’ve been using. I had an under-cooked pizza a couple of weeks ago, I seem to remember, and tonight’s was even worse. What was even more depressing about it was that while a few weeks ago he might have had a valid excuse, seeing as how the place was packed out, but tonight I was the only customer in there at the time that I ordered.

And so I shan’t be going to that place again – not that it’s a big deal because there’s another pizza place just round the corner from where my new place is and I’ll give that a try. I still have plenty of my sliced vegan cheese left.

Talking of vegan cheese, I had a cheese butty today. There wasn’t enough hummus left for a decent butty, especially as with it being Sunday it was a big baguette from the boulangerie down the road. But with a good supply of vegan cheese, a big tomato and a pile of salad (and a couple of olives) it was delicious.

Mind you, I’ll have to do a big “shop” tomorrow as I’ve now run out of lunchtime stuff.

Last night was a slightly better night as far as I was concerned. I was late dropping off to sleep – long after midnight – and awake early – 05:20 in fact – despite having been up once or twice during the night. But after the 05:20 trip downstairs, I went back to bed, back to sleep and it was 08:20 when I awoke.

I’d been on my travels during the night too – with the mother of a girl who has featured a couple of times in these pages. We were in Marcillat en Combraille and I had to take her home, which involved going into the town square and back out the other side. However she told me of a shorter way through the town that missed out going round the square. It was puzzling to me how come I didn’t know this particular way.

Straight after breakfast, which did include my two bread rolls, I went down to the boulangerie. Although the bad news is that the jam had gone off. I managed to salvage some of it but the rest went into the bin. It’s already been salvaged once so it’s no big deal. I’ll have to buy some more if there’s none supplied in this new place.

Sunday was shower day too, so now I’m nice and clean. But it was touch and go because the water wasn’t very hot. I don’t know what has happened there. I had to make the most of the cool water. It wasn’t very pleasant but still …

As far as the blog goes, I’ve now finished the month of June. Tomorrow, I’ll be starting on July if I have the opportunity. I want to see how my water retention issues go because if there is no improvement I’m going to try to blag my way back into the hospital.

Not that I want to of course, but I can’t go on like this.

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Sunday 19th June 2016 – NOW THAT’S MORE LIKE IT!

I had to leave the comfort of my stinking pit once during the night, but I was soon back in it and fast asleep. And the next thing that I remember were the bells of the local church summoning the faithful. I tried to count the peals of the bells but was easily defeated by the crazy campanologist so I had to look at my phone to find out the time.

Ohh yes, 09:47. That’s what I call a lie-in. When was the last time that I had a decent sleep like that?

I’d been on my travels too, driving a sports car in some kind of rally. as far as field positions had gone, we had finished down the field but bearing in mind the individual start times, we were well out in front in the classifications and I was expecting, with all kinds of confidence, to leave the field behind me the next day. But on setting off, the tractor-digger that I was towing behind me suffered a collapsed digger arm and that seriously delayed me as it wouldn’t raise back up. Of course, the idea of switching on the engine to start up the hydraulic pump never ever occurred to me.

After breakfast, I went for a pleasant stroll down to the boulangerie down the street – the one that I looked in the other day – for my baguette. I’ve run out of hummus so it’s vegan cheese, tomato and olives today for lunch. For a change, it was quite nice weather outside but it soon clouded over. The weather is really miserable right now and no-one would ever believe that it’s flaming June.

vegan deli vegan cheese carrefour belgiumAnd while we’re on the subject of vegan cheese, I forgot to post a photo of my exciting discovery from several days ago. So now’s the chance to catch up with the outstanding issue.

As you can see, it’s the same brand of vegan cheese that I discovered a month or so ago, but this time it’s a Cheddar cheese substitute. THis is quite an exciting discovery and will definitely make my cheese butties taste much better.

This afternoon, I’ve been on at the Titanic public enquiry again – the American version. Today, I’ve been reading a great deal of nonsense from some of the passengers – the most important part of the disaster according to one woman was a sailor sitting next to her in a lifeboat lighting up his pipe, and another passenger regretting that sailors were put in the lifeboats to row and that their places should have been given to some of the “gallant and heroic First-Class male passengers who gave their lives so that those wretches could escape”.

But I have said before that I have no time for Senator Alden Smith who chaired the enquiry, but this nonsense about “what is an iceberg made of” has finally been put to bed.

You remember that we said the other day that the American Press of the day ridiculed him for asking the question – on the basis that “everyone knows that icebergs are made of ice, which is water”. But we had an Arctic expert giving evidence today who stated that icebergs are full of rocks, and it’s those rocks that could easily split the iron sides of a ship and cause the damage that led to the sinking of the ship. So Senator Alden Smith had the last laugh after all, although you would never expect the American Press to apologise.

hercules motorcycle leuven belgiumIt was such a nice evening that I went for a walk into town. And I’m glad that I did because I encountered a motorbike that I didn’t recognise, so I went for a closer look.

This is a Hercules, a German make of motorcycle – a company that was famous for producing a Wankel rotary engined bike and which ceased production in 1996. There was nothing to indicate anything more about this bike, but it’s a single-cylinder four-stroke of about 125cc, something like that.

We don’t have a classification for old motorcycles so I’ll file it under “old cars”.

leuven town hall belgiumThe Town Hall in the city centre looked absolutely splendid in the late evening sun and was well-worth a photograph. It does make you wonder just how splendid the city must have been before the Germans burnt it to the ground in 1914 and blew it to bits in 1940.

Now that I have my vegan cheese I could go for a pizza, after all, it is Sunday. And I had a beautiful vegetarian pizza that went down well. And a lovely walk back home where I polished off the rest of the cake with some soya custard-substitute.

Now, I’m going to have an early night. I have a busy day tomorrow at the hospital.

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Saturday 18th June 2016 – WHAT A NICE EVENING …

… that was!

Tonight was the night that we had our little farewell party. The student exams are coming to a close and two of the students are leaving on Monday morning. And so they decided to have a little party, with each person contributing a course of the meal, and I was invited.

I went to the Asian fast food place and bought a biryani, and also a bottle of wine. Everyone else made something, much of which was vegan, so there was plenty to eat. We sat around the table chatting away for quite some time too and it was after midnight that I came up to my room. The people here are very nice indeed, very friendly, and I’m glad that some good has come from staying here.

But here’s a thing. I had a couple of trips down the corridor during the night but they didn’t inconvenience me too much, and went back to sleep each time. When the alarm went off, I simply turned over and dozed off again, and it was almost 08:30 when I finally awoke. That makes a pleasant change too, a little lie-in.

I was back on the Titanic public enquiry this morning, with Senator Alden Smith still stuck in this monomania that he had about the two wireless operators, Cottam and Bride, selling their stories to the Press. I can’t see an issue with it – after all, it’s their own personal story and they waited until they were on dry land before making contact with the Press, and yet to date, 12 days into the enquiry, Alden Smith has devoted about a third of the time into interviewing everyone from the Marconi company, wasting everyone’s time and even summoning Marconi himself not once but twice to a meeting in the USA to interrogate people over the issue as he thinks that it’s “improper practice”.

As I said, I don’t see an issue with it. It’s their own personal story and has nothing whatever to do with an issue involving Marconi, the White Star Line, the American public and Senator Alden Smith.

At lunchtime I braved the showers to go to do some shopping and passed by the market for some olives where I bumped into Melanie, one of the students here who was also doing some shopping. I’ve finished off my hummus so tomorrow I’ll be having cheese and tomato butties. I don’t want to buy anything perishable yet because on Monday I’m not here – in the hospital in fact, and out gallivanting on Tuesday lunchtime.

Back on the Titanic this afternoon and then off to the shops for the food for the party – and now I’m back here. I’ll have a nice lie-in tomorrow (I hope) with no alarm. High time that I had a good rest.

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Saturday – 21st May 2016 – I’M BACK …

… on the road again and even as I type, I’m sitting in a little room in a Première Classe Hotel on the outskirts of Soissons (I’ve managed to find it today).

I managed my lie-in this morning – until all of, would you believe, 08:10 – even though I’d been on my travels during the night. Driving a lorry as it happens somewhere around the UK and a rough, horrible thing it was to drive as well and I was determined to have it taken off the road for major repair when I returned to the depot. But what surprised me was that it had only just passed its MoT a short while ago and I thought that that couldn’t be right. So I parked it up in the yard and the next lorry to come in was driven by my brother and he parked his lorry right next to mine blocking the through-way across the yard. Anyway, we left the yard and were immediately caught up in a scenario that involved the police on the motorway blocking off a car that was coming down the road. It was carrying antiques of some kind of dubious nature and the owner as telling us sometime later in this church hall where we all assembled that he’d been taught a manoeuvre to carry out whenever the police tried to stop him but as he drew a diagram to explain it, I couldn’t see how it would possibly help in such a circumstance.

It didn’t take too long to load up Caliburn and tidy up after me back at Liz and Terry’s, even though I managed to forget to bring back the fresh fruit that I’d put on one side. Mind you, I didn’t rush with doing it because I’m not up to that kind of thing just now. It was about 11:30 when I finally hit the road.

My next stop was back at my house where I dropped off a pile of my washing and collected some more stuff that I had forgotten the last time I was there.But I can’t for the moment find the big back with all of my single bed stuff. I wonder where all of that has gone. I know that I have it because I can remember sorting it all out after I’d finished the wardrobe last year.

It was a beautiful day when I set off but the farther north I drove, the weather deteriorated and when I left the motorway we were having a grey, overcast day. The drive itself was totally uneventful at first but at Nemours we had an incident where a wedding party decided to stop and block off a roundabout in order to take some wedding photographs and this provoked quite a bit of “reaction” from the other motorists.

Not only that, I’d noticed that there were some substantial queues at various petrol stations along the route, and my usual one at Melun was closed. When I eventually found a petrol station (on the N2 just before Villers-Cotterets) where there was quite a queue, I made enquiries and they revealed that some local television has announced that there is going to be a fuel shortage – something that has taken the garage proprietor totally by surprise.

So now, here I am -it’s 19:15 and I’m installed in my little room, and that is that. I’ll see you all in the morning.

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Wednesday 10th February 2016 – IT SNOWED TODAY

Great big flakes, the size of dinner plates too! That’s what we had for about half an hour here round about 15:00 or so. It didn’t stick, unfortunately, otherwise it would have been something really impressive, but at least winter is back. That’s bad news for all of the plants that are growing, because one thing that I noticed on my way back from Montlucon the other day is that we have the blossom on the trees. This weather will have put paid to all of that.

We had another visitor too. Liz and Terry have a friend who lives out the other side of Les Ancizes and she passed by this afternoon to say hello. It’s nice to have company every now and again.

Apart from that, I’ve not done too much. I still have pains in my chest and in my side and it’s uncomfortable to sit for too long. Typing is difficult too as the constant movement of my arms and fingers is putting a strain on the muscles that have been injured.

And I’ve also been having to recover from my night-time voyages too. I’m still racking up the miles here and there as I travel about the world, and last night was no different. We started off with some kind of disturbance involving a group of kids going on a rampage in an underground car park, and I was eager to get away from all of this. I hopped into my car, a late-model Series III Hillman Minx, and headed off out of the exit. As I arrived at the end of the exit ramp I noticed that all of these kids were there, blockading the way out, so I did a smart u-turn and went back down again. These kids immediately drew the attention of a passing police car to me and so they all decided to set up an ambush for me. My car was actually quite conspicuous, because it had one of these exaggerated spoilers fitted to the boot – the type of aerodynamic spoiler that was fitted to the very first of the aerodynamic Formula One racing cars. I came out again at a different exit across the road, but was spotted so I had to go back down again. The third time that I tried to leave, it was at a different exit right across at the opposite end of the car park. It was at the top of a bank, at the far end of a surface-level car park which was totally empty so that you had a really good view of the surrounding area. And there was snow and slush just about everywhere. The entrance and exit to this surface car park were controlled by traffic lights which stopped the traffic on the main road. These worked sequentially so it was quite easy to work out the rhythm. This was important as I would only have one opportunity to make good my escape without being blocked in by the police and everyone else. I timed my run down the bank very, very carefully just so that I arrived there just as the lights turned to green which stopped all of the traffic on the main road, and I could squeeze my way out and nip off. By now, my car had transformed itself into an old PB Cresta … "it was actually a PA Cresta" – ed … and I was driving through this snow and slush and black ice and ended up in Tunstall (nothing like Tunstall of course). At the top end of the town was a roundabout with three roads feeding in, and it didn’t matter which road I took, it always brought me back to this roundabout again. On one occasion approaching this roundabout, a cyclist was following me and as driving a car in this kind of weather in Tunstall only meant for slow progress, I was exchanging conversation with this cyclist every time we caught up with each other. At one particular moment we came to a part, just before this roundabout, where the road narrowed. There was a church encroaching into the carriageway. Someone in a BMC 1300 was coming the other way and ended up on my side of the road, blocking the highway. I had a race to see if I could reach this part of the road before he completely blocked it off but we both arrived at the same time. In the end I had to swerve around him on the wrong side of the road and on the wrong side of these bollards to pass him and return to my side of the road. And then, of course, I ended up yet again back at this roundabout.
From here I went off on a sprawling, amazing ramble. I was involved in an incident with a girl but I can’t remember now who she was and what was going on. I liked this girl quite a lot and I’d spent some time trying to establish some kind of rapport with her. It ended up that she had to leave, and this meant going across this bailey bridge or pontoon bridge that was full of Chinese refugees fleeing some kind of attack. All of these people were struggling across this bridge that had been hastily thrown together and she was in a small car of some description, stuck in the middle of this bridge. Someone had given her a crystal ball and so while she was waiting for the crowd to advance, she was admiring this crystal ball. As the crowd began to advance, she slipped this crystal ball into the back pocket of her dress and started her car. At that moment, the crystal ball exploded, for it was really a booby-trapped bomb. From where I was standing, on the bank of the river I could see this pillar of dark brown smoke going up into the air from about where her car was situated. I went home to change my clothes. I’d been scratching myself and I’d scratched the heads off a couple of scabs on my legs and there were a few trails of blood running down my legs. I was intending to write a letter to this girl and I was writing her address on my knees for some reason or other. At this moment, Nerina put in an appearance. She’d been out since yesterday and was only just coming back. I commented upon her arrival, saying that it was quite a coincidence as I’d only been back long enough to write this address on my knees. Nerina replied that lunch would be ready soon, so I explained to her that I had to go out and deliver this letter, so hold up lunch until I came back. I wouldn’t be long. But as I was writing this letter I noticed that they started to lay the table downstairs. And then the food appeared, and of course that wasn’t in my plans at all. But then I noticed that all of my breakfast things were still on a tray in the corner of my room so I needed to take all of them downstairs. I still hadn’t finished this letter and I was becoming more and more annoyed by all of this. Having asked for lunch to be delayed, I was expecting someone to take notice of what I was saying.

Anyway, life is going to be like this for a good few weeks, I reckon. I’m just going to take it easy, not do too much and slowly recover. I have the nurse starting back tomorrow for my blood tests (and how I hope that the situation will at least have stabilised and that I don’t have to have any more transfusions) and so I’m going for an early night. The days of lying in look as if they are well and truly over for the foreseeable future.

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Tuesday 9th February 2016 – I HAD A VISITOR TODAY

And wasn’t that nice too? Ingrid came round to visit me for a couple of hours to see how I was doing and that cheered me up greatly. It’s nice to have good friends and it’s nice for them to take an interest in what is going on and in what you are doing. She came round ar 15:00 and we were chatting away until after 17:00, with lots of news about people whom we used to know. After all, since the demise of all of the community self-help groups that we used to have, we’ve all been out of touch with everyone else and what’s been going on.

After Ingrid left, we had tea. Liz had made some vegan pies in the morning before going to work and I had mine with a baked potato, broccoli and sweet corn. Absolutely gorgeous, it was too.

And I needed it too because I was exhausted after a most astonishing series of lengthy rambles during the night. It started off with a group of six women, blasted off in a rocket to go to a distant planet. When they arrive, they divide themselves up into three groups of two. One of these pairs, an older woman and a younger one, leave the rocket to go in search of intelligent life, I suppose. However they become separated and the younger one, who is very insecure, wanders around very carefully trying to avoid being contacted and meeting anyone. She then finds a little shower block kind of place where she can take a shower. Its a white stuccoed stone-built small circular building but on multi-levels descending deep underground with just one shower on each level and a continual supply of warm water. It’s just like a scene from one of the Our Man Flint films. Down in the basement where there are actually two shower units and someone has been doing some plumbing there, she finds a suitable shower where she can have a wash even though there is no soap. In mid shower, she’s interrupted by two humanoid women who work here – clearly human but clearly of this planet. She asks them if they have any soap which takes them quite by surprise. But still, someone produces some. They start to chat and this young girl from the spacecraft reveals that her interest is in Population – both growth and control. Just by chance, it turns out that this is the Office of Demographics of this planet so they decide to engage her. They are very very friendly and very very helpful, finding her a desk, somewhere to sit, some work to do, and they add her onto all of the rotas for holidays, birthday cakes, memo distribution. She fits in straight away, right from Day One.
And what was my role in all of this? I’ve no idea but after a trip down the corridor it was my turn to be new in an office. I was wandering around there, getting my bearings, and I met up with Laurence’s step-father Paulo. We had a long chat and he invited me to lunch, taking me to a café. And it was the worst café that I have ever visited. The queues were absolutely enormous with one queue for meals and another queue for snacks and no-one came to serve at the queue for snacks, except on the very very odd occasion. Someone would, very occasionally, be moved on from there but we waited and waited. The place was filthy and horrible and the servers were quite disgusting, picking up and serving the sticky cakes with their fingers and then licking their fingers clean. Eventually we did make it to the head of the queue, Paulo, his friend, and me, and we found the food to be very very basic, something with chips. I just asked for a giant plate of chips but they were freezing, freezing cold. It was horrible, the worst café in the world and I can’t think of any reason at all why anyone would ever want to come and eat here, in this filthy café with this disgraceful service and shocking food.
From here, we wound ourselves backwards to Hillbilly days and we had received a carriage from the Flying Scotsman. It was to be converted into a convertible for some kind of exhibition or other, which we were very unhappy about, but we had won this prize and that was that. We had to go to stay in this place in the Wilderness which was two converted railway carriages used as holiday homes. It was the weirdest place that I’ve ever visited or ever been. The people who were running it were strange people to say the least and there were two guys there more content on stealing everything that they could lay their hands on rather than anything else. And that includes one of the carriages, for which they had rigged up one kind of cable and winch to help them tow it away. But we were easily able to outwit these men because they were not too bright, to say the least. The people who ran it were as poor as church mice and doing everything in their power to try to get more money. One thing that they were trying to do was to defraud the baker, and we had to continually speak to the baker to ensure that we received our order and that it was correct. We noticed that the food that these people were eating was disgusting – cheap, offal kind of meat slices and cheese slices. They were even eating kittens and one of our party, a young girl (wherever did she spring from) was so dismayed about this. We tried to convince her that this is what rural people have to do – kittens are useless mouths and out there you have to eat anything that presents itself and which would otherwise consume foodstuffs itself.
By now we were at an airport and waiting for a couple of people to arrive (and this had strains of déjà vu about it too). Four people in fact, and they turned out to be a girl who has featured occasionally in these nocturnal rambles, her mother, her friend and her friend’s mother. We had to take them somewhere and so they all piled into the car, which was my father’s old grey Cortina. But then the girl suddenly remembered that she had forgotten something and dashed out of the car to fetch it. We were all there urging her to get a move on. But eventually I parked the car up and decided that I would abandon it, as I have done with a variety of other Cortinas during my nocturnal ramblings . It needed to be emptied but as it was still dark I connected up a light to the car’s battery but it wasn’t good enough to see very much so I decided on coming back a little later to do it when it was light. But “a little later” meant that it was even darker because it had been the evening just a couple of hours ago. I’d also left the light connected and so I was wondering if the battery of the car would be flat by now. There was one of these “know it all” teenagers hanging around offering me all kinds of gratuitous advice and that was getting on my nerves too.

No wonder that I was exhausted. I even managed a sort-of lie in until 08:15 too. But it wasn’t quite as good as it sounds because according to the dictaphone, which I use during the night to record these adventures, I’d woken up every two hours or so anyway, just like being back at hospital, I suppose. I can see me having to work hard to snap myself out of this. But it’s perfectly understandable that I didn’t do very much this morning either after all of this during the night.

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Tuesday 22nd December 2015 – WELL, I HAD THE CALL!

Yes, at about 09:30.

“Mr Hall, we’ve had your blood test results. You need to come in this morning for a transfusion”
“I’m still waiting for the District Nurse to come, and it’s over an hour’s drive to Montlucon, you know.”
“Well you really need to be here before midday”.

And so that was that. With no District Nurse by 10:30, I was off and gone – on my way to Montlucon.

Mind you, I was off and gone long before that. Despite having once to leave my bed (for the usual reasons), I had a really good night to make up for the dreadful one that I had had the night before. And I was running the Formula One racing network too. My youngest sister was driving one of the cars and my niece in Canada was doing the voice-over television commentaries. However, we were under attack in our house (which bore a strange resemblance to Hankelow Hall, the abandoned stately home where we squatted back in the 1970s, except that there was a more modern extension built onto the back) by people who wanted to take over the running of the organisation. We were trying to defend it resolutely but looking out of the back, I noticed that a load of gear, including skis (for some reason), was being passed from the new extension into our house on the floor below through a window that should have been guarded by my elder sister. The door into our room was then battered down and into the room surged a crowd of people, TV cameras, everything, and my sister saying that we had all agreed to pass on our rights to this new company. I however made it quite clear that she was not speaking for me.
From there via several removes, I ended up back at my house in Gainsborough Road Crewe where I was living with a woman who was about 20 years older than me, and we had a daughter of about 11. The behaviour of this woman was extremely bizarre, which puzzled the girl and me a great deal.

strawberry moose violet sock sloth camping story time sauret besserve puy de dome franceSo after breakfast, we had to play Hunt The Moose again. Today, Strawberry Moose was in the sun-lounge camping. And also reading a story to his new best friend Violet the sock-sloth.

Robyn was keen to join in of course. She loves having stories read to her and no-one reads stories like Strawberry Moose. And in exchange, she drew a beautiful picture of him.

At the hospital car park, there was hardly anyone about so I had a good spec right by the entrance just 200 metres from the front door of the hospital. And they were waiting for me when I arrived, which made a nice change.

“Only one go” I said to the nurse trying to inject the drain into me. “They had four goes last time that I was here”
And so she did it in one, and a more painful injection I have never had. Total agony.

Lunch wasn’t up to much unfortunately, but you can’t expect much in the way of special diet when you turn up a l’improviste. However, I had foreseen this, having been caught out last time, and I had packed a packet of crisps, a handful of Liz’s home-made vegan biscuits and a banana. They didn’t ‘arf go down well. What was not so acceptable was the inexcusable, unpardonable sin of forgetting me when it came to bringing round the afternoon coffee. The fact that I MAY just have closed my eyelids to give my tired eyes a rest is neither here nor there. What you can be sure of is that harsh words were exchanged – and I did get my coffee.

I also got something else quite important too. The internet speed at the hospital is quite respectable for a public place, and so I profited by downloading a huge pile of radio programmes and a Mr Wong film from archive.org. That should boost up my supply of listening and watching matter if I’m going to be incarcerated elsewhere.

And talking of that, I was also speaking to my friend Alison, with whom I used to work at The Conference Board – that weird American company in Brussels. She had a very serious operation in Belgium and was full of praise over the treatment and care that she received. I’ve always said that Belgian health-care is the best in the world and that is where I would go if I were ever seriously ill, and so I asked her which hospital it was that she used.

It’s the one at Leuven, and having made enquiries, Alison told me that there is in fact a dedicated lymphoma department there. Furthermore, she rang them and it transpires that they would be glad to talk to me, and they passed their number onto her to give to me.

Why I’m doing this is that they have already told me that they don’t have the facilities to treat me in Montlucon. If I need treatment I have to go elsewhere. Clermont-Ferrand is, at the limit, acceptable because I’m still within some kind of travelling distance of possible visitors and facilities, but anywhere else is uncharted territory with no possibility of visits. Smuggling supplies into the hospital will therefore be extremely difficult and I’m not going to survive on what food a hospital can offer me.

Not only that, I’m dismayed at how much Flemish I have forgotten since I’ve left Brussels. I reckon therefore that a spell of immersion in a Flemish-speaking environment will do me the world of good.

An added advantage of Leuven is that there’s a Belgian 2nd-Division football club – OH Leuven, in the immediate vicinity and public transport in Belgium is very good. I’m sure that I can smuggle myself out of hospital occasionally on a Saturday night. If so, I can track down a fritkot too, and Alison has already promised to be my conduit for illicit food parcels.

I was thrown out of the hospital by 16:00 and I was wondering whether to go home for an hour or so but I wasn’t feeling up to much so I came back here. As a surprise, Liz and Kate have made me some vegan ice cream – strawberry and also choco-mint. It wasn’t ready for tea though but it will be fine for tomorrow. I hope that I’m still here to eat it, and not detained elsewhere.

I met up with the District Nurse too. He’s concerned about the continued use of this anti-coagulant and reckons that I ought to speak to the doctor about it tomorrow. he can understand why I needed it but it seems to him that the crisis has passed. He reckons that it’s now at the stage where it can be doing more harm than good, especially if I keep going for the total of three months for which it has been prescribed.

I’m all in favour of that. It’s costing me an arm and a leg for a start, and it will also mean that I can go back to having my Sunday morning lie-in. These continued 07:45 starts are killing me off.

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Saturday 19th December 2015 – MY PEACEFUL CONVALESCENCE …

…may well be over now – and for two reasons too.

Firstly, we have now been invaded by two children – Dylan aged 7 and Robyn aged 4. I suspect that that will be the end of lie-ins (not that 07:45 is a lie-in by my standards but it certainly is for children of that age who are excited by visiting their grandparents and the imminent arrival of Father Christmas) and the start of things like “read me a story” and all of that kind of thing.

Secondly, and much more importantly though, my blood test results came today. And my blood count has gone down – in the space of 72 hours, from 9.1 (which is already a good deal lower than the 13 that is the usually-accepted minimum) to 8.1. If the blood test that I will be having on Monday morning shows a similar decline, I suspect that I will be back in hospital by Tuesday morning.

This was confirmed by the District Nurse who came by this evening to give me my anti-coagulant injection. He took my pulse and the pulse-rate has gone up. With the diminished blood count, my heart is having to pump the blood around faster to keep up the same supply of oxygen, and this can create problems of its own.

Up in the attic last night, it took me ages to go off to sleep. In fact, I was still awake at 02:00 despite my very early night. But once I’d gone off to sleep I was right away with the fairies until the alarm went off at 07:45. Totally painless.

During the morning there were chores to do and while I wasn’t up to doing much in the way of heavy work, I did what I could. And after lunch, while Liz went off to the airport at Limoges to pick up her daughter and family, I went out – the first time for a couple of days.

There was a pile of stuff to take to the recycling, and for that there’s a little recycling point on the outskirts of Les Ancizes where there are a few of these containers. Everything went in there, and then I was off to the supermarket. Surprisingly, considering that it’s the last Saturday before Christmas, there weren’t very many people about. I was expecting the place to be heaving, but apparently not. father Christmas was wandering around looking totally lost, with no children around to entertain him.

I bought most of the things that I was asked to do but despite visiting a couple of supermarkets, one or two things eluded me. But what I did do was to find a nice quiet spec in the sun (because, at 18.3°C at 16:00 in the afternoon, it really was glorious) and read a book for a while.

Back at the ranch, it was pizza for tea. Everyone was to have pre-bought pizzas but Liz had bought me a pizza base so I made my own. Tomato sauce (Bane of Britain forgot the herbs, of course), onions, fresh garlic, mushrooms and grated cheese and it really was beautiful too. I couldn’t manage it all, so guess what I’m going to be having for Sunday lunch?

And after that, Liz returned with her family at 19:15 and all mayhem was let loose. I managed to stay awake until about 22:00 and then I went off to my attic. It’s been a long day, a short night last night and I need to be on top of my form. I’ve no idea what the future holds for me but I don’t think that it’s going to be so good.

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Tuesday 17th November 2015 – I’M FEELING A LITTLE …

… bit better today.

With having crashed out yesterday afternoon, it was gone 02:00 (more like 03:00, I reckon) when I went to bed. As for the alarm at 07:30, well, the least said about that the better. 09:30 it was when I crawled up here, and then I had to make some muesli as I’d run out yesterday

I had a good day on my course and astounded my tutor with an observation that I made about an Iron Age encampment in the vicinity of Hadrian’s Wall. But with the late start, it was after midday when I finished.

I crashed out again for an hour or so, but then found from somewhere the energy to go outside.

First thing that I did was to fit Caliburn with new windscreen wipers. The ones that were on it were the originals since 2007, so eight-and-a-half years is some going. They weren’t much good, in fact. but when I was at the Auchan the other day, they were having a sale of windscreen wipers and so I took advantage of it, ready for the winter which isn’t surely far away.

Apart from that, I’ve started to empty Caliburn. There was food in there (tins and stuff), some of which dates from before I went to Canada in August, as well as a pile of washing that Liz did for me. It can’t stay in there for ever so I made some space in the downhill lean-to and most of it is stacked in there. Some other stuff, including the washing, I dragged up here (and I do mean “dragged”).

Tomorrow, I’m going to be brave and carry on with the emptying, including the tiles and the tile cement. I may not be up to much at the moment, but tiling doesn’t take too much effort and with the old electric tile-cutter that I have, that doesn’t take too much electrical energy

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Sunday 15th November 2015 – I SHOULD HAVE …

… gone out this afternoon.

I had planned to go out to Menat for the football today. Two matches – one of the 2nd XI who play at the same level as Pionsat’s 1st XI, and the Menat 1st XI who play a couple of divisions higher. But then last night’s Pionsat 2nd XI match had been postponed until today and so I was wondering whether to go down there instead.

But then I had something of a late start today (well, it IS a Sunday) and then I had a bad attack of Writer’s Block and couldn’t make a start on what I had to do today. By the time I could tune myself into whatever I was going to do, it was too late to go anywhere and do anything. But at least I’ve finished the radio programme, eventually.

I’ve also emptied the beichstuhl today. The first time since I’ve been back home. And it needed it too. So that’s one job well-done. And with the temperature in the verandah being 19°C and then temperature in the home-made 12-volt immersion heater reaching 49°C, that was the cue for a shower. And gorgeous it was too.

Rosemary rang up for a good chat later, and we were on the phone for an hour or so. It seems from local gossip that our little ex-pat community is going to be thinned out even more, something that is surprising us because, by all accounts, it’s going to be an enormous backward step for the people involved. But then, what’s it all to do with us?

And in other news, we have had a definite candidate for not just “Quote of the Year”, or “Quote of the Decade” or even “Quote of the Century”, but what will probably end up being “Quote of All Time”. One of my “friends” on my Social Network who lives near Guildford posted, in relation to the events in Paris this weekend “… it could happen in Guildford or Bristol …”. it appears that the poster has totally forgotten that it DID happen in Guildford

And this just goes to prove a point that I have been saying for years. Atrocities committed by white-skinned Christian terrorists are totally forgotten, conveniently swept under the counter even by people who were exposed to the acts, whereas the mere threat of an attack by brown-skinned “terrorists” brings them out all in a cold sweat.

And why “terrorists” in inverted commas? That’s because one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter. As a good example of this, certain white-skinned Christian terrorist swho had conducted a bombing campaign all through London in 1974 and 1975, convicted of 7 murders as well as a whole string of other serious crimes, were described as ‘our Nelson Mandelas’ by an MP who had served in the British Houses of Parliament for over 20 years and who was indeed a serving MP at the time he made the remark.

However, history conveniently overlooks all of this.

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Thursday 12th November 2015 – WE HAD AN UNEXPECTED …

… lie-in this morning. Due entirely to the fact that the battery in the mobile phone went flat during the night so the alarm didn’t go off.

Nothing at all to do with my nocturnal ramblings during the night. I was walking up the hill from the traffic lights at Burland crossroads up towards Hurleston Reservoir and Car Transplants. There wasn’t a road up there – just a dirt track between a couple of fields. And in the fields were a couple of guys working away and, quite interestingly, a couple of Alsatian dogs were conveying messages between the men and whoever it was who was in charge of them. At the top of the hill was a car – the type of early 50s American car with a V8 flathead engine and which was leaking oil out of the sump. I suggested that they went up to Car Transplants to see what they could find there, but they needed to sort themselves out because they were insisting that it was a ’57 model but of course it wasn’t. 1952 at the outside, I reckoned, but they insisted.

After breakfast I carried on with my studies but we had a change of plans round about 12:00. Bright sunshine streaming outside and the batteries fully-charged so I grabbed the chopsaw, the workbench, the extension cable, the plastic sheet and the wheelbarrow, and I attacked the woodpile again.

I can’t remember whether it was 5 or 6 huge barrow-loads that I cut but it was also two boxes full of kindling. You can now see the difference that I’ve made, and the woodshed is now looking like it ought to look. There was half a bin-bag full of sawdust too.

One thing that I did do was to cut up four or five window frames. A few years ago I came across a skip loaded up with old house windows and, with permission, I rescued them (you can’t live around here without a van – I don’t care what anyone says). The wood wasn’t up to much but I salvaged quite a few window panes that I’ll be using to make cloches and repairing windows around the barn.

But the wood – all oak – makes good firewood. A couple of 12-inch lengths on that on the fire will keep the place going through the night. I don’t understand the mentality of people who throw away decent firewood like this.

After that, I came up for my lunch (it was now about 17:30 by the time I’d tidied away everything) and instead, I just crashed out on the sofa for a good hour.

But this chopsaw is proving its worth, especially when I have the surplus electricity to power it. We had 34 amps of surplus solar energy again even with running the chopsaw, which at times brought the voltage down to 11.6 volts. But that’s not important because of the intermittent use of the chopsaw. Generating a (very) theoretical solar maximum of 70 amp-hours, it soon builds the batteries back up. It would of course be a totally different matter if the use of the chopsaw was persistent or continuous.

So I’m off to bed. I have a test tomorrow on my course so I need to be at my best. And then we’ll see what the weather is doing.

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Sunday 8th November 2015 – THAT WAS NICE!

It certainly was. Fast asleep in my nice new and clean bed. And I was so comfortable in there that when I awoke at 09:30 I lay in bed until … errrr …. 12:30 doing some work on the laptop.

I could do that because I had the laptop with me at the side of the bed. I should never have drank those two cups of coffee at the football last night because despite going to bed at 12:00, I was still wide awake at 01:30 so I went and fetched the laptop and did an hour’s work.

I didn’t even have time for “breakfast” this morning because I’d planned an afternoon out with friends from FC Pionsat St Hilaire. Pionsat 2nd XI’s match had been cancelled this afternoon but just down the road from here, Le Quartier were playing two matches. The 2nd XI kicking off at 13:00 against St Maurice and the 1st XI playing Lapeyrouse at 15:00, and we had arranged to go. And such a beautiful afternoon it was too that I didn’t regret it for a moment.

Le Quartier won both matches, and deservedly so. Their 2nd XI wasn’t up to much but St Maurice were pretty dire and didn’t offer very much. As for the 1st XI match, Lapeyrouse were definitely better-organised and more skilful on the ball but were simply too slow. They couldn’t break out of defence quick enough to capitalise on attacks and on many occasions there was just one of them isolated up front on his own. They didn’t move around enough give the ball-player a choice of alternatives, and they were too slow to get back into position once the game had spread out – and that was fatal because Le Quartier had a couple of speedy players up front. They played the ball around nicely on one or two occasions and made the most of it.

And it seems that I’ve upset the military lobby again. My feelings on the Armed Farces are well-known to anyone who has been a regular reader of this rubbish, and I make no apologies whatsoever for my stance. But what was quite surprising (although it isn’t really) was that one of the contributors, a quiet and erstwhile well-mannered and polite woman, replied to my posting in language that would have been considered rather extreme had it been uttered in the fo’c’s’le of a whaler. It seems that the Military Lobby considers itself to be untouchable and above criticism, and if this is the kind of response that you have from “a quiet and erstwhile well-mannered and polite woman” then it’s no surprise that the military members behave as they do, burning down mosques, acquiring arms and murdering innocent civilians. They are all pretty much of a muchness and if I had my way, they would all be stuck on an isolated island and left to fight it out amongst themselves.

As I’ve said before, next time anyone proposes a war, there should be a vote on it. And everyone who votes in favour should be gived a rifle and a tin hat and sent off to fight it. These bumper stickers “We support our troops” are totally laughable. Anyone can be brave and belligerent when they are 5000 miles away from the conflict. If they really did “support our troops”, they should be out there in the front line with them, and we’ll see how brave and belligerent they are then.

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Friday 23rd October 2015 – WELL, THAT IDEA WORKED!

Last night, just before going to bed, I switched on the gas heater and sat in front of it reading a book for 15 minutes. And in that time, the temperature rose from 10°C to 13°C on the thermometer right across the room, but it was roasting where I was sitting. And I was able to go to bed nice and warm.

Even better, it was one degree warmer next morning when I awoke, which was rather … errr … later than I had intended it to be, even with all of the alarms going off.

Mind you, I probably hadn’t returned from my nocturnal ramblings at alarm-time. I’d been to Stoke on Trent to meet a former friend of mine and we had to deliver some messages from an Accountancy firm to about 20 of their clients, But I had forgotten the name of the Accountants. No matter, I thought to myself. I’ll look at a map where all of the Accountants’ offices are all displayed and labelled, and I’d soon recognise the name. However I hadn’t counted on the fact that there were so many accountants labelled on this map that all of the labels overlapped and I couldn’t read any of them, never mind recognise the one that I wanted. And then we degenerated into part of a journey that I’d been on before on another nocturnal ramble where I was out on a part of Stoke on Trent that I know very well both in real life and on the nocturnal plane when it is in fact completely different. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been on an overlapping nocturnal ramble but the fact that they do exist helps to prove one of the points that this study – the one in which I participated – was trying to make all those years ago.

After breakfast I had another go at the radio programmes and I’m making progress. Not as much as I would like but progress all the same. I’m going to have to get my skates on.

And that’s all I’ve done today. Not very much, I know, but I can’t organise myself sufficiently at the moment and I’m going to have to do something dramatic about this.

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