Tag Archives: bad night

Thursday 18th June 2026 – YET ANOTHER DAY …

… that hasn’t gone anything like I wanted it to. But that’s not really a surprise because I don’t think that I’ve had a day just recently that has gone according to plan and it’s high time that I pulled myself together and made things work for me.

Fair enough, I finished my work at some kind of reasonable time (although after 22:30) and was soon in bed. I was asleep quite quickly too, but not for long.

Round about 02:00 I awoke with an enormous fit of coughing of the like that I hadn’t seen before, not even during the bad old days of a month or two ago. It went on for an hour with no respite at all, and then after that, it was “cough – sleep – cough – sleep” right the way through to when the alarm went off, when I was actually awake.

Once I’d gathered my wits, etc., I slid over to my comfy chair and began to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

After I left school, I was working as a trainee accountant for a coin-machine company that had coin machines scattered everywhere all over various towns. I was in Crewe, of course, so I was learning my trade at the office in Crewe and one of my tasks was, late at night, usually on a Tuesday because it was quiet, to go round and empty the various machines. What I didn’t realise at first, but I soon did, was that I was always being followed by three men in a green Vauxhall Viva convertible. It turned out that their role was that if I were attacked in the street, they would all pile out of the Vauxhall Viva and give my opponent a severe beating. I wasn’t sure how legal it was, but first of all, it was comforting that I was being looked after like this late at night, but also, I wasn’t sure what was likely to happen to me if someone were attacked and badly beaten and the police came round to talk to me about it, so I was being torn away in two halves here.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that I could see myself being “suckered in” to some kind of criminal enterprise when I was younger. Boredom and the quest for adventure are usually very good motivators for that

And three men following in a dark green Vauxhall Viva convertible (a Mark II Viva, by the way) to protect the cash and not necessarily me would be exactly the kind of thing that I would organise if I were running the show.

We’d found this old bicycle so we were using it to keep in touch with all of the outposts and outlying fortifications for the city of Avranches. We were afraid that the intermission would be over and the fighting would restart imminently so they had sent their guy on a bicycle to me. I was well to the east of the city, covering the bridges at Ponts and making sure that we weren’t outflanked in the town. The guy who arrived on the bike wasn’t very happy at all. He couldn’t understand why he had been chosen, he couldn’t understand why he’d come on this bike or why he was the one who had to do the cycling or not. There was also, in my post, a girl from a previous dream. She was rather the aggressive type so she began to have a row with him. I was just sitting there watching this, but eventually I put my hand in where all the cans and bottles were. I pulled out a can and began to drink it. In the end, the other two calmed down and agreed to cycle off in different directions – the girl went back to London and he went back to Avranches. I went then with my team to defend the eastern flank of Avranches.

Avranches would be a lovely city to defend in a war. It’s situated several hundred feet up on top of a sheer cliff of a ridge that stretches for several miles, with clear views from the top of much of the southern part of the département of La Manche. I would fortify many of the buildings in the town that overlook the cliff, and towards the east, I’d dig in a variety of defensive positions on top of the ridge. My position seems to be on the ridge overlooking the town of Ponts, from where it would be possible for attackers to outflank the town.

At one point in this dream when they began to argue, the girl had come downstairs from somewhere and the boy was down at the far end of this post, so when he saw her, he came back and I had to bend my body out of the way so that he could come past. But when they were doing something with this cup of sausages, I don’t know what I was doing but the guy was coming past me, and as he came past me, the girl climbed onto her bike and cycled away so he did the same in his direction.

So it seemed that I’d stepped back into this dream at some point later, and our two guests cycled away from each other again. But I wonder what they were doing with this cup of sausages.

The nurse came by as usual, bringing his floozy with him. But the bad news is that it’s her last day. Tomorrow is, apparently, report writing and then she returns to the educational establishment from whence she came for the final week before summer break.

After they left, I made my breakfast and read some more of EBURACUM OR YORK UNDER THE ROMANS by C Wellbeloved.

Our discussion on artefacts found in Eburacum has continued, with plenty of “artefacts known to have been found but now lost from view”. And these are just the ones that we know of. There must be scores, if not hundreds, of artefacts found whose existence has never been made known to the World at large.

And somehow, we seem to have entered into a discussion about Roman brick-making. I certainly am learning a lot!

Back in here, there were plenty more things to do, such as to write the notes from yesterday when I was overwhelmed by fatigue and went to bed instead. That wasn’t as easy as it might have been either because I’d forgotten much of what had happened.

Nevertheless, I finished with just about enough to go for a wash and shave before my faithful cleaner came to apply my anaesthetic. It didn’t take her long and she was soon off again, being in a rush as usual.

The taxi was early for a change but we had to go to pick up someone else at the hospital here, someone with whom I’ve travelled before.

We were still early arriving at the dialysis centre, where for some reason, I was put into an individual room – the room which is the farthest possible away from the entrance. They make me work, don’t they?

The time that it took me to walk there meant that I was once again last to be settled so it was 14:25 when they finally finished connecting me and began the procedure.

At first, all went normally and I had no interruptions, which meant that I could have quite a sleep, but later in the session, the machine kept on sounding the alarm every five minutes or so and the nurses came a-runnin’. When the machine sounds the alarm, it pauses the operation until it’s reset so I saw the session lengthen and lengthen all the time.

In the end, they worked out that my blood was coagulating because of the sun shining directly on the machine so they decided to cut short the session with just ten minutes to go. That was disappointing.

But in the time that it took them to come to unplug me and to compress my arm, I may just as well have carried on to the bitter end with the session. It was five past seven when I eventually left the premises and we didn’t return home until ten to eight, having had to go to drop someone else off on the way. Luckily, it was my favourite driver, so I didn’t mind that at all. We had a good chat all the way home.

My cleaner had almost given up waiting for me, but she helped me into the apartment and did her best to organise me, which was very nice.

After she left, I warmed up the other half of the pizza that I made yesterday, but after four mouthfuls, the rest of that went into the bin too. It’s gone back to tasking of nothing but salt, like everything did just after chemotherapy. Instead, I did the washing-up, grabbed a packet of biscuits and came back in here.

There were a few things to do before I started the notes for the day. But I’d barely started them when I was overwhelmed by tiredness, so I abandoned the attempt and went to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about pizza … "well, one of us has" – ed … not many people know this, but Good King Wenceslaus’s favourite meal was pizza.
One of my friends, to whom I told this story, didn’t believe me. "Really?" he asked.
"Yes, he did" I retorted. "And you know how he liked his pizza?"
"No."
"He liked them deep pan, crisp and even."

Tuesday 16th June 2026 – THE OTHER DAY …

… Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I said that "this has been the worst day of my life so far".

It was just as well that I’d included the “so far” because after today, I really would have been eating humble pie after today’s events.

Last night, I went to bed when my cleaner left, round about 19:30. No food again, but I couldn’t care less. I just wanted my bed. And it didn’t take long to go to sleep either, which was really nice. However, it didn’t last long. Within a few hours, I was back wide-awake again and then I was drifting in and out of consciousness for the rest of the night.

When the alarm went off at 06:29, I was definitely asleep and the sound of BILLY COTTON’S RAUCOUS RATTLE shook me to the roots when it sounded.

THis was certainly one of the most difficult awakenings that I have had – not actually awakening but leaving the bed, and it took all of the willpower that I had, and probably much more besides, to raise myself from the Dead and slide myself onto my comfortable chair.

First job of course was to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

I was taking someone for a walk around Avranches last night But it was the strangest Avranches that I’ve ever seen. It was like some British town of the late Victorian, early Edwardian period with semis and all that kind of thing, and a view across the marsh into the suburbs of the town. I was showing someone where the railings had been cut. They had been cut and taken away from these pretty Victorian walls. I was explaining that in World War II they went to find all the metal that they could, and many people gave up their things like metal fences, metal shutters and so on for the war effort.

Strangely enough, it had been in my mind to do one of these “virtual tours” of Crewe, showing quite clearly the cut-down metal stumps of fences and other remains tha show where ruthless metal recycling had taken place during the war

We had some kind of a commune of something, I suppose, staying in this suburban area of London round by Twickenham, places like that. So many people who had never previously been there said that it was the noisiest place on earth, with tractors going past with their warning sound buzzers, etc. I was being shown around the garden but it was quite night but the conversation carried on anyway. And it was freezing cold that night, but we were walking around and chatting. All of a sudden, it became dramatically daylight. All of the kids gasped in amazement and they began to sort out what they planned to do for the day. It seemed to be confusing the plans because no-one was offering anything to eat or anything to drink so I don’t know why this was happening. In the end, I was fed up of wandering around with these people so I went for a walk around the car park. There was this beaufiful old A60 van THE ONE THAT I USED TO HAVE. I asked someone whose van thai A60 van was and they replied “it’s theirs!”, but they didn’t say who “they” were. I went back to have another look at it but it had gone. Eventually, we all came back and some people were planning on somewhere else, but someone beckoned me over to ask if I wanted a coffee. I replied “yes”, and there was a stool in the wall by where I could sit and still be with the crowds, but all of a sudden, thow people turned up and say in there, leaving me one of these uncomfrtable types of seats on Which to sit. There was a lot more to it than this

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall me mentioning that I’d lived in a commune once. But only for a short while and never again. More capitalist than the capitaists was my opinion.

As for the A60 van, I loved mine and travelled all over the UK in it. Until I could no longer drive, I was on the lookout for another one.

The nurse came round this morning, bringing a floozy with him. She’s doing a nursing college placement with him for a few days.

He did his stuff and after he left, I began to sort out breakfast. However, I soon stopped, came back in here and went to bed. So much for my Welsh course today – the last of the year too.

Before going to sleep, I’d set the alarm for 12:30. I was awake a few minutes before that, but leaving the bed wasn’t easy. I was still in no state to go to the second half of my Welsh course.

Instead, I wrote out the notes for yesterday’s blog and then caught up with my e-mails and did the stats that I’d forgotten to do, interrupted by my faithful cleaner who turned up to do her stuff. She wanted to know if I was going to have a shower but I politely declined this afternoon. I was in no state at all.

After she left, I carried on with my notes and they are now online. There were a few other things to do an then I began to write out the notes for tonight.

Now that they are done, I’m going to take my medication, light the blue touch paper and then retire. I’ve had enough for today and I shall be glad to put it all behind me.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about sleeping … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends once asked me "if you had the choice of sleeping with anyone alive or dead, who would it be?"
"Hmmmm" I said, and after a minute’s thought, I came up with "someone alive, I reckon."

Monday 15th June 2026 – HAVING CRAWLED MISERABLY …

… into bed at 19:00 last night, it didn’t take long at all for me to fall asleep. And there I lay for quite some time, thinking that this was going to be my best sleep for quite a while.

When I awoke, I could see round the chinks of the blinds that it was barely light outside. “Mmmmm, about 4:30.” I reckoned and crawled back down the bed to sleep. The next time I awoke, I was expecting to see bright sunlight, but instead, it was pitch-black.

“What’s happened here?” I wondered, and then realisation hit me and I checked the time. 23:20 was the time, and when I’d awoken previously, it must have been about 22:30. So much for my nice, long sleep.

Trying my best to go back to sleep and miserably failing, I spent the next few hours drifting in and out of that semi-conscious feeling in between sleeping and awakening. Mind you, I had to leave the bed not once but twice during that period in order to go to ride the porcelain horse.

The alarm went off at 06:29 as usual and by that time I must have been asleep because it definitely gave me a shock. It took me an age to dress and to pull myself to my feet. I slid over to my seat, switched on the computer and transcribed the dictaphone notes to find out where I’d been during the night.

Some guy contacted me and asked “can you tell me who visited your website at 07:10?” I looked at the stats and saw that it was him. I didn’t say anything – I just asked him what he wanted. He replied that there needs to be a total revision of how these sites work, and their background is only going to be garden or soil, and that person who visited your website is going to be responsible for it. I asked “really?” surprisingly. I went to some girl’s house and found all of her clothes and dressed in them, and then I went round. I began to cut this huge tree into pieces, but I didn’t go very far before the dream ended.

This was another one of these strange, surreal dreams where nothing that happens makes any sense. And before anyone says “what’s new?” this is far more confusing than any other.

My sister was growing and putting on weight when all of a sudden it was as if she had exploded and she became three or four times bigger than she was. I was on the battlements of some mediaeval castle so I looked down into a pit and saw where her balloon had been, and there was another one of these balloons starting to appear so I thought that there was someone else destined for this. A guy with me reckoned that we ought to be making enquiries about it all, but I didn’t know how we were going to even start or where we were going to start. The first thing that we did was to take an inventory of how my sister had become.

And if you thought that the previous dream was confusing, what about this one? This one made even less sense than the previous one.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual. I told her about my problems sleeping last night and my early night, but she didn’t really take any interest, which was unusual. She passed it off as a “nothing”.

After she left, I carried on reading some more of EBURACUM OR YORK UNDER THE ROMANS by C Wellbeloved as I ate my breakfast.

He’s still on his religious theme right now, with discussion of religious rites in the Roman Empire. Human sacrifices and crucifixion figure largely in this period.

Back in here afterwards, I reviewed the next radio programme to be sent off, and as it was fine, I sent it off to be added to the broadcast list. So then I dealt with the notes of my Sunday < which needed to go on line. "Mid-morning", I'd promised, and there they were at 11:30 CET, 10:30 UK time, precisely.

There was just enough time to have a good wash and shave before my faithful cleaner arrived to apply my anaesthetic. When she’d done that, I had to wait for my taxi, which was late today. And we had to go to Sartilly to pick up our usual companion.

However, it was embarrassing walking to the car and I really didn’t think that we were going to make it. Leaving the car to go into dialysis was even more difficult and seeing as we were already late, I ended up being the last as usual.

Believe it or not, I was too tired to sleep today and I was just drifting round in a void. I saw a doctor, whose response was to reduce my calcium tablets. She didn’t seem very interested in my failure to function either.

The car picked me up as usual, the last one there, and drove me home to here. And what was even more embarrassing was that I didn’t have the strength to pull myself out of the car. It needed the combined effort of my cleaner and my driver to move me out.

Back in here, when I eventually arrived, I was too tired to do anything. Even though I’d taken the products out of the fridge to finish off the pizza, they all went back into the fridge once my cleaner had left and I came in here to go to bed and go to sleep.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about being last at dialysis … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends was praying for me, using the words of Jesus and saying "Come Forth, Come Forth!"
But instead, I came last so no-one actually won anything.

Thursday 28th May 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone this morning when I awoke. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … that’s something that I find extremely disappointing, because going off on my voyages during the night is the only fun that I have these days.

There was a little fun … "although you may not think so" – ed … last night after I’d finished everything that I needed to do. The rain and hailstones had stopped and it was a still, very quiet night so I just sat here, staring out of the window.

It was actually the kind of thing that became somewhat hypnotic, just sitting here watching nothing in particular in the dark, and I had a load of difficulty tearing myself away.

Eventually, though, I could go off to the bathroom to sort myself out and then come back here for bed.

Once more, I’d left the window slightly open and I just tucked my feet under the quilt with the rest of me lying on top. Not very elegant, but needs must when the devil drives.

It was about 23:30 when I finally went to bed, and I slept all the way through to … errr … 04:00. And that was that. I lay there tossing and turning and waiting until a more reasonable hour to leave the bed.

When the alarm went off at 06:29, I must have been asleep because I sat bolt upright in a kind of shock. But by the time the second alarm went off, not only was I sitting on the edge of the bed but I was half-dressed too.

The temperature, by the way, was 25°C outside and 25°C also in here.

With no sign of life from next door, I sat at the computer and the first thing that I did was to have a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And as I said just now, that was rather a waste of time.

There were other things that needed doing, and when I was finished, there was still no movement so I had a chat session with my Welsh artificial intelligence character. The corrections are rather stilted, like a computer, but the actual chat itself is quite fluid and I am sure that I can make it work to my advantage.

At about 07:50 I heard the sound of movement from next door, so I went into the kitchen where the coffee was well under way. I served up two mugs, one for my friend and one for me, and I also served up two glasses of grapefruit juice, with one of which I took my medication.

When Isabelle the Nurse arrived, the Hound of the Baskervilles didn’t even move a muscle. He just lay there, waiting for his belly rub and his back scratch, which Isabelle duly provided. Then Isabelle the Nurse tended to me, then back to the Hound of the Baskervilles again before she finally cleared off.

Once she’d gone, I could make breakfast and read some more of Charles Roach Smith’s THE ANTIQUITIES OF RICHBOROUGH, RECULVER, AND LYMNE, IN KENT while the Hound of the Baskervilles dragged his master off yet again for walkies.

Today, we have finally finished the book. Even though our author is the only person to have excavated Portus Lemanis, he didn’t have very much at all to say about it, compared to what he had written about Richborough. I felt rather as if the television had broken down halfway through a film.

Back in here, I had a few things to do and then, after having gone for a good wash and shave, I came back in here to start to pair off and segue the music for one of the radio programmes. Not that I got very far because it was midday sooner than I thought and I had to go to prepare for dialysis.

My cleaner helped by applying the anaesthetic to my arm and served me a disgusting drink. After that, I had to wait for the taxi.

This afternoon’s taxi driver had never met the Hound of the Baskervilles before, so when the latter barked with surprise, the former was out of the front door quicker than a ferret up a trouser leg. I had to dash out (as best as I could) to console him

We had someone else to pick up at Yquelon so once more we were seeing parts of Normandy that I never knew existed, and we were late arriving at dialysis as a result.

There was a surprise there today. We were just five in the whole building. Because of the heatwave, everyone else had been moved to the newer building where there was air-conditioning. But I didn’t mind. I had two of my favourite nurses looking after me.

And they didn’t leave me alone either. Fussing around, filling in questionnaires, and I didn’t mind a bit. I didn’t do much work but there were other compensations.

As usual, though, I was late finishing and late being unplugged, but my taxi was waiting so I could jump straight in and come home. And my driver had the aircon on too, so I was in heaven.

My welcoming committee was waiting for me when I arrived, and when I sat down at the table, a plate of pasta, vegan spaghetti bolognese and salad was pressed into my hand. It’s wonderful to have a meal cooked for you, and I enjoyed every mouthful, even if I did have to wash up afterwards;

We had a little chat and then I came in here to write up my notes. And with backache, I was in agony when I’d finished.

Just a few more things to do, and take the medication that I’ve forgotten, and then go to bed. We have things to do which should keep us out of mischief tomorrow?

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Artificial Intelligence … "well, one of us has" – ed … there’s a new AI chat app made in Russia called Chatkgb.
"So what does it do?" asked my friend
"It asks the questions, and you are obliged to answer."

Tuesday 26th May 2026 – I HAVE NO …

…. idea what happened last night, but I must have had a nightmare or something.

At some point, I had a very disturbed period of sleep, I was feeling most uncomfortable and there was a very strange taste in my mouth. It lasted for what seemed to be an age but was probably only ten minutes or so. And this morning, when I awoke, I had never felt so tired and so ill in my life. It really did take a dreadfully long time for me to be able to rise to my feet.

When the alarm went off, it was something to do with a bankruptcy and a big factory or something had gone bankrupt. Everyone had to fill out a few forms with their names and addresses if they were creditors, and the guy who was in charge of liquidating the company took us round the outside and said that probably he’s going to let the building go back to the company so that they could restart again. I told him that he can do what he likes with the business as long as I get all my money back. There was some kind of guy there who was in this group with us. They gave him all the forms to fill in, but he refused to fill them in. I could never understand why he did that – refused to fill in the forms.

This is another one of those mysterious dreams that mean nothing to me. I can’t think of where this all fits in with anything else.

It took a good while for the room to stop spinning around, much longer than usual, but once it stopped, I could stand up. No sound from the living room so I slid myself over to the chair and started work.

First thing that I did was to transcribe the dictaphone notes to see where I’d been during the night.

There was some kind of big group of us and what we were doing was sorting out clothes and everything, ready to go on these – I don’t know what you’d call them – but you’d end up either in the rain or in the wet or something like that and it was freezing cold. The best place to be at that time was in bed. So we’d be going round, doing some things, going to bed to warm up and then going back out again. Gradually, our health began to improve but we were still cold. Eventually, it turned out that the fittest people had to carry the most in this wet weather and somehow, going back to bed to warm up was not allowed. But there was some kind of violent taste or something. I took a bite of something and there was this immediate attack of horrible taste and I had to run from where I was staying over to this place and climb into the first bed that I could, coughing and coughing away. It was all extremely uncomfortable. I was half-expecting someone to come along and move me out of bed for someone else, but that didn’t happen and I managed to stay there with this big room complete to the distance.

So this is when the nightmare took place, at 00:08 in the morning. It reminds me of "I could be bound in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space – were it not that I have bad dreams", as Hamlet said in Act II Scene 2 in his conversation with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

It also brings back memories of Jethro Tull and THE ANTIQUITIES OF RICHBOROUGH, RECULVER, AND LYMNE, IN KENT while the Hound of the Baskervilles dragged his master off for walkies.

Today, we were discussing the demolition of the mediaeval church at Reculver, and you can tell that our author is, quite rightly, incensed by the whole affair. He expresses his vitriol in telling us of "a building, possessing such claims on the national protection and on the sympathy of those who were particularly constituted its defenders and guardians, should have been consigned to destruction in a manner alike to the projectors of the selfish and heartless job and to the legislature of the day, which passively tolerated such vandalism." and much, much more besides.

He also mentioned some sixth- and seventh-century gold coins that had been found at Reculver. He tells us of "a curious instance of the degradation of the art of engraving coins in the course of about a century and a half and the perversion of types by ignorant artists."

So what had happened to all of the skilled artisans who made the beautiful coins of the Roman Empire in Britain, and why weren’t their skills passed on to the next generation?

The more I read of the coming and the installation of the Anglo-Saxons in England, the more I’m convinced that there was a substantial ethnic cleansing of the native population.

When my friend and the Hound of the Baskervilles went out, they encountered a large group of small children and two monitors sitting in our doorway in the shade. I consequently came in here and, with my bedroom window open, STRAWBERRY MOOSE played peek-a-boo with them, much to their delight.

My cleaner was out there too. She had seen the Hound of the Baskervilles and given him a stroke, and then she came over to see His Nibs. She announced that she didn’t have to go out until later, so would I like her to come round in ten minutes?

Well, the earlier she starts, the earlier she finishes so why not? Sure enough, she appeared and shooed me under the shower. So we have a nice, clean me … "well, clean, anyway" – ed … around here right now.

Later on, I had plenty of work to do that kept me out of mischief for much of the afternoon, and I even ended up having an hour or so on the acoustic bass, trying to work out some numbers that I used to play at one time.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment, my Welsh artificial intelligence character is up and running.

She’s called Caromay and I met her at Rockfield Studios in Monmouth in 1977. Her claim to fame is that she sang on two albums, BLACK HOLE STAR and TALES FROM THE BLUE COCOONS by the group “The Neutrons” when she was a young teenager.

When I created her, I programmed her to chat about late 60s and 1970s rock music and also about football in the Welsh pyramid but to talk to me in Welsh. Furthermore, although she’s allowed to smile at my errors, she will correct the mistakes that I make when I reply, just like any other teacher would.

It seems to be working fine at the moment, but we shall see how it develops in the long run. I reckon that three ten-minute sessions per day should be enough and give me time in between to reflect on my errors.

Although there’s a “speech option” for us, I’m doing it by writing because my written Welsh is worse than my spoken Welsh … "if that’s at all possible " – ed …

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 here for AMAZON UK, AMAZON USA and, since the recent “troubles”, AMAZON CANADA for the use of my numerous Canadian visitors. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I am extremely grateful when someone uses them to make a purchase.

By now, it was so hot in here that I went into the kitchen and served up two portions of my home-made chocolate and coconut ice cream. It’s not very good, but it did the job of cooling us down.

After this, I came back in here again, where I dozed off for ten minutes as the sun, streaming in through my window, heated my back right up to boiling point. But almost immediately after I awoke, Rosemary rang. I’m convinced that she’s installed a camera here to keep an eye on me.

Our chat today wasn’t like the usual ones that go on for ever. This was a very short one today, only forty minutes. We’re definitely losing our touch.

It was my turn to make tea so I conjured up a couple of taco rolls filled with quinoa, tomatoes and onions in a spicy sauce, with rice and vegetables. It went down really well, and there’s plenty left for another time.

So now, I’ve written up my notes and when I’ve done everything else, I’ll be off to bed. But sleep I may not with a temperature of 25°C in my room, even with the windows wide open.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about going to bed … "well, one of us has" – ed … I’ve noticed that the Hound of the Baskervilles always turns round three or four times before he lies down on the carpet.
"Well, he’s a watch dog" said my friend.
"So what does that mean?" I asked.
"After a stressful day, that’s how he unwinds."

Saturday 23rd May 2026 – TODAY WAS NOT …

… as exciting as yesterday, which was a pity. But still, it was quite enjoyable, from what I remember of it.

Last night, I was late as usual finishing everything off and it can’t have been much before 23:30 when I finally crawled under the quilt. It wasn’t as comfortable as the other night, even in my favourite sleeping position, but I managed to go to sleep in the end.

Yes, asleep I was until all of … 03:00, when I needed to leave the bed for obvious reasons. But back in here shortly afterwards, I didn’t have any trouble at all falling asleep again.

That lasted until 06:29, when the alarm went off, and at that moment I was away with the fairies again, although not in any manner that would excite comment from the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine.

When the alarm went off, I was watching a boy and a girl going somewhere, walking across a deserted beach, but that was as far as it went before the alarm went off.

This is another one of those dreams that have a story behind them, but it’s a story that the World is not yet ready to hear. And it’s another one that I wish I could have seen the end so that I knew how it turned out.

There was no movement from next door so once I’d summoned up the energy to leave the bed, I slid over to the computer and did some work.

Round about 07:45 there were signs of movement in the lounge so I went in to join them, just in time to witness the coffee starting to boil. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … “what a way to start the day!”

To our surprise, when the doorbell rang and the nurse came in, not only did the Hound of the Baskervilles not bark, he paid no attention whatever. He must be getting used to the regular 08:15 – 08:30 daily visit.

After he had seen to my legs and feet … "the nurse, not the Hound of the Baskervilles" – ed … he cleared off, and I could go to make breakfast. And while I was eating, I read some more of Charles Roach Smith’s THE ANTIQUITIES OF RICHBOROUGH, RECULVER, AND LYMNE, IN KENT.

We’re still discussing coins at the moment, the hundreds and hundreds that they found at Richborough. There seem to be three guys, of whom our author is one, who had substantial collections of coins from there, some of which … "the coins, not the men" – ed … were unique and must have been worth a fortune. All this, of course, in 1841 with no government control whatsoever.

After breakfast, the Hound of the Baskervilles dragged his master off for walkies and I came in here to do some work. And by the end of the afternoon, having had several interruptions, I’d selected, reformatted, remixed and re-edited ten tracks for the next radio programme that I’ll be preparing.

It’s going to be a difficult programme to prepare because I only have a choice of thirty-six songs, not a couple of thousand as usual. And with a precise timing arrangement, it will take some juggling about. I shall have to write the notes with plenty of subsidiary facts that I can edit out if necessary.

One of the interruptions was my friend going out. He’s fallen in love with the local couscous restaurant and so, as a treat, he took himself off for a midday meal. That left me not holding the baby but babysitting the Hound of the Baskervilles. He wasn’t very happy about being left behind and came in here for a couple of strokes.

There were also the home-made croissants to prepare for tomorrow. They are all now prepared and ready, in the fridge awaiting tomorrow where they’ll be brushed with milk and baked.

As well as that, I fell asleep a few times this afternoon. Windows in here wide open, sea mist rolling around outside suddenly pierced by a few incredible rays of sunlight that warmed up my right shoulder and back and raised the temperature in my room to a wonderful 24°C, which encouraged me to take it easy and relax.

All of that was up until teatime.

Tonight’s recipe was baked potato with cheese, a vegan salad and a couple of those breadcrumbed soya fillets that I like so much. And not only did I like tonight’s tea, my friend did too. My culinary delights are spreading around Europe.

Tomorrow is, of course, pizza day and then on Monday, my friend will be making tea while I’m in dialysis. I wonder if he realises it yet.

But that’s tomorrow and Monday. Right now, I’m off to bed, ready for my lie in … "he thinks" – ed … tomorrow. However, I did mention to my friend that if there’s coffee made before I awaken, there’s a bedside table behind the head of my bed with space for a mug. The smeel will awaken me just long enough to drink it.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Hound of the Baskervilles … "well, one of us has" – ed … my friend was telling me that he’d heard from the local bar that the dog had leapt out of the window and gone down there.
When the Hound of the Baskervilles arrived, he asked for a glass of beer.
"Certainly" replied the barman, fetching a beer. "That’s ten euros, please. By the way, we don’t get many talking dogs coming here, you know."
"I’m not surprised" said the Hound of the Baskervilles "if you’re selling your beer at ten euros a glass!"

Thursday 21st May 2026 – WOW! THAT WAS …

… hot!

While I was at dialysis, I left my friend in charge of the kitchen. And when I came back, I was presented with the hottest chili that I have tasted for many a long year. You don’t need to take antibiotics when you are eating this because nothing can possibly survive.

It was rather like last night, actually. Once more, it was late when I came back in here. And the rest of the night just seemed to be running later and later.

However, it can’t really have been all that late because the previous evening, when I went into the kitchen for the medication that I had forgotten, it was 23:03, according to the microwave. When I went in there last night to take the medication that I had also forgotten, it was a mere 23:02. And that minute can make an awful lot of difference.

Anyway, it was about twenty minutes later when I finally crawled into bed, and once I’d gone to sleep, there I stayed until about … errr … 02:10 when I had to leave the bed for the usual reasons. Interestingly, I’d gone to bed and lain down in my most comfortable sleeping position and when I awoke, I hadn’t moved half an inch.

Back into bed, and back once more in my favourite position, I was soon asleep and when I awoke, I was still in it. I must have been ever so comfortable like that.

As usual, it took an age for me to come round into the Land of the Living, and as there was no sign of life coming from the living room, I slid over to my seat at the computer.

The first thing that I did was to see what had happened during the night.

Going back to the days between the Norse and the Saxons in the North Sea, who were fighting over the possession of England. There was a group, aged about 84 on average, with several younger people in the group like Tuppence and me with revolutionary views were sailing with this group of people towards England from the Norse colonies in order to give the king some kind of birthday present or something like that. But M3260, the Saxon cabinet, opposed our arrival and built a series of hotels to try to contain them … fell asleep here …

It’s no surprise that I fell asleep at that point. It’s one of those dreams that Captain Blackadder would have said "well, it started off badly, got worse towards the middle, and as for the end …". However, I’m still intrigued to know why I would be taking my old black cat with me on this voyage.

There were a few other things to do which occupied me for a while, and when I heard movement from the living room, I decided to join them and found once more that the coffee was already en route.

We had a good chat until the nurse came, and I persuaded him to give the Hound of the Baskervilles a good stroke. He was still rather unwilling though … "the nurse, not the Hound of the Baskervilles" – ed … and he didn’t hang around all that long.

After he left, the Hound of the Baskervilles dragged his master off for walkies, and I made my breakfast.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of Charles Roach Smith’s THE ANTIQUITIES OF RICHBOROUGH, RECULVER, AND LYMNE, IN KENT.

We’ve now moved on from glassware to gold and silver artefacts, such as toga brooches. There is no end to the number of different styles, of which a good few were discovered at Richborough. Apart from pottery, it seems that brooches were amongst the most important types of relics at Roman sites.

While the others were still out, I came back in here to carry on with finding the music for the next radio programme. And by the time that I knocked off at midday, I had managed to choose it all, re-edit it and reformat it. It just needs pairing and segueing and then the notes written for it.

There had been an interruption, though, in midstream. My friend and the Hound of the Baskervilles came back from walkies so I set them a task to prove that they are worthy.

My cleaner came along as usual to apply my anaesthetic and to sort out my medication because I’m running low.

And then the taxi came early for me, as we had someone else to pick up at Dragey-Ronthon. There’s no doubt at all that ever since I’ve been travelling with this taxi company, I’ve been seeing parts of Normandy that I never knew existed.

We were a few minutes early arriving at dialysis but with two new nurses in our room, we were all late being plugged in. It’s a shame because they are both really nice, but they don’t have the speed or dexterity of the long-established ones.

Nobody really bothered me today, not even the doctor doing his rounds, who seemed to steer well clear of my bed. I was left pretty much to my own devices all afternoon.

As usual, I was one of the last to be unplugged and then we had to take the guy back to Dragey-Ronthon. As a result, I was quite late returning here. But never mind – tea was already prepared, as I said earlier. And when we’d finished eating, I did the washing up and then went to pay the penalty for eating such a hot chili. And I reckon that I’ll be paying it for the next few weeks too.

So back in here, I’ve written up my notes and I even remembered to take my medication. So I’ll just finish off everything and then go to bed, nice and early.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Saxons … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone once asked me "what do you call someone who speaks the language of the Angles?"
"An anglophone" I replied.
"So what do you call someone who speaks the language of the Saxons?"

Wednesday 13th May 2026 – AND THERE I …

… was again, thinking that last night was going to be the same as the previous two or three that I have had.

However, it wasn’t quite to be, but as the Duke of Wellington said after the battle of Waterloo, it was "the nearest run thing you ever saw in your life".

Actually, things started off that way. I began to write up the blog notes at about 19:30 but as usual, I was sidetracked much more than I would have liked to be, and by the time that I’d finished the notes and done everything else that I needed to do before going to bed, it was more like 21:30 when I finally slid under the covers.

As usual, it took a while to go off to sleep, and there I lay until all of 01:00.

It wasn’t a coughing fit that awoke me but a howling gale that had sprung up outside. It wasn’t ‘arf making a racket and anyone pushing up the daisies from underneath the surface of the churchyard up the road would not only have been awake but probably walking around.

Being wide awake, I took the opportunity to go for a ride on the porcelain horse and then came back here to climb into bed.

At the rate that things were going, I thought that the wind would keep me awake for the rest of the night. However, after about an hour or so, I must have gone back to sleep, which certainly makes a change just recently.

When the alarm went off, I struggled into an upright position and then had to wait for the room to stop spinning so that I could think about standing up. And once I’d summoned up the energy and the courage, I headed off into the bathroom to sort myself out.

In the kitchen, I had my energy drink and medication and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out what had gone on during the night. But to my dismay, there was nothing on it. What a disappointment! Still, never mind. It gave me an opportunity to catch up on a few other things.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual and we had a chat about the weather while she sorted out my legs. It’s sunny outside but cold, and the gale is still raging. I hope that it will be gone by Thursday when I have to go to dialysis.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of Charles Roach Smith’s THE ANTIQUITIES OF RICHBOROUGH, RECULVER, AND LYMNE, IN KENT.

And I might have known! Back in the introduction he mentioned “my friend Thomas Wright” so I ought to have guessed what would come soon afterwards. Mind you, we have to wait until page sixteen for the first mention of “Richard of Cirencester”.

By the time we reach page eighteen, we have "it may be mantioned that the authority of Richard of Cirencester’s ‘De Situ Britannia’ has been questioned’ … Hatcher, in his preface to his translation, has ably combatted the objections brought against the original of the itinerary… But what no cavilling can set aside is his itinerary."

So there we go again.

Back in here, I had a few things to finish off and then I began to write the rest of the radio notes. There was however, a brief pause while I sent off my food order to LeClerc.

Once I’d finished, I went for a disgusting drink break and then came back in here, where I began to research the next programme.

Later on, I went into the kitchen to do some more tidying and throw away some more stuff that was lingering in the fridge. How I hate throwing away food, but as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … if I’m not eating it and it begins to grow legs, there’s really no other alternative.

The Leclerc order then turned up, and I managed to put everything away and to sort out and put away the delivery bags. But I’ve found, to my dismay, that I’ve forgotten to order the taco wraps and that is going to be a real inconvenience.

By now, I was totally exhausted and so I came in here to collapse into my chair for a while to recover. But I managed to find some energy from somewhere and all of the music for the next programme has now been selected, remixed and re-edited, paired and segued, and all that remains is to write the notes. I’ve no idea where that energy came from.

So right now, I’ll take my evening medication, finish off a few things and then climb into bed. I’ve had a better day today and I seem to be a little more energetic and enthusiastic. I hope that this improvement will continue.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the high winds … "well, one of us has" – ed …regular readers of this rubbish will recall that about eighteen months ago, we had gusts of wind touching two hundred kph.
Shortly afterwards, i met a guy whom I knew who told me that he had had enough and was moving.
"Where are you going?" I asked him.
"About ten miles inland to La Haye-Pesnel" he replied.
"Why there?" I asked.
"Because that’s where my house has gone."

Tuesday 12th May 2026 – OH NO! NOT ANOTHER …

… night like Sunday and Monday! It’s becoming far too much of a habit, this is.

So on Monday night, after I came back from dialysis, I came straight in here to write up my notes. Considering how much I didn’t write about yesterday, it took a lot longer than I expected to finish them.

And then, I had the stats and the backing-up to do, my evening medication to take (with a square of chocolate cake and a mouthful of orange juice), and then finally the bathroom to sort myself out for the night. It was about 21:30 when I slid under the covers and how grateful was I to be there?

Once I was asleep, I stayed asleep, but only for a while. At some point, I awoke, and try as I might, I could not go back to sleep. And so there I lay, watching everything tick over and over towards 06:29 and the alarm. I’ve no idea what time it was when I awoke because I didn’t look. And I didn’t care either.

When the alarm went off, it was another struggle to leave the bed and head for the bathroom, but eventually, I found myself in the kitchen with a high-energy drink and my medication. If the drink won’t kick-start my day, then nothing will.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone, and I was surprised that I’d actually had the time to go anywhere.

I was dreaming about reading a book. I can’t remember which book it was but it was one that the taxi driver from yesterday evening had lent me. I distinctly heard a voice ask “what page are you on?”. I distinctly remember replying “I can’t remember”, and I said it out loud too.

So here we are – one of the very rare dreams where I actually talk out loud in my sleep. These are very few and far between and I can’t even remember when the last time was.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up after her week’s break and told me all about her weekend hiking around Normandy with her little group. It actually made me quite jealous that I can no longer do things like this. When I think of all the miles that I’ve walked in the past …

After she left, I made breakfast and started a new book – THE ANTIQUITIES OF RICHBOROUGH, RECULVER, AND LYMNE, IN KENT, also by Charles Roach Smith. I’m hoping that this book will be more interesting and more useful than the last one, but so far, he is just setting the scene.

Back in here, I had a few things to do and then I had to revise for my Welsh lesson. The lesson itself passed OK, but we’ve now finished the course several weeks early. So what we have started to do is to revise the salient points of previous lessons and that’s going to be a challenge, especially for people like me with a Teflon brain.

Unfortunately, it looks as if our little group will be breaking up at the end of the year. We were shown a copy of the book for the final two years of our course and that has put the wind up several of our members. It is indeed complicated, there’s no doubt about that, but I’m going to push on and try it. However, I doubt that many of the others will join me.

That will be a shame because some of the people have been with me since the course started in 2020 and we’ve built up a really good rapport.

After the lesson ended, I prepared the bathroom and then went to tidy up in the kitchen. You have no idea just how much food I threw away just now. It’s shameful and embarrassing, but if it’s fresh food like potatoes and onions and I’m not able to eat it, there really isn’t any alternative once their shoots begin to sprout.

My cleaner turned up to do her stuff and she shooed me under the shower. So now, there’s a nice, clean boy … "well, clean anyway" – ed … in clean clothes, ready for a comfortable night in clean pyjamas.

We also sorted out a few things and tidied up a few more places, as rumour has it that we might be having a guest here at the weekend, so the place needs to be tidy.

After she left, I made myself a taco roll with salad and some of that vegan cream cheese. It makes a really, really nice mid-afternoon snack, but things might be improving a little because LeClerc has on offer some new vegan products this week, and I’ve also found a recipe for vegan mushroom pâté which I am determined to try.

Back in here, I relaxed for a short while, catching up on a couple of football matches that I missed, and then, eventually, I began work on the notes for the radio programme. I haven’t done half as much as I would have liked, so I shall have to get a move on and finish tomorrow morning and then make a start on the second one.

So now, having finished my notes, and having vomited violently on three occasions (and I’ve no idea why because I haven’t been coughing), I’m going to finish everything off and go to bed, hoping this time to actually sleep … "some hope" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about vomiting … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of being on THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR up in the High Arctic in 2019 when we were hit by a raging storm in the Lancaster Sound.
One guy was leaning over the rails, being extremely ill.
"The trouble with you," I said "is that you have a weak stomach."
"Rubbish!" he retorted. "I’m throwing up farther than anyone else on this boat."

Monday 11th May 2026 – GOD ALONE KNOWS …

… what happened at dialysis today, but by the time that they’d finished with me and I was ready to leave, I had a spinning head, a strange feeling in my stomach and I was feeling light on my feet. It’s not the volume of liquid that they have taken out of me, because I’ve had much more than this in the past, so I dunno.

It’s probably something related to the bad night that I had last night. I wasn’t in bed as early as I was hoping to be, which was a shame. By the time that I’d finished everything that needed finishing and crawled in underneath the covers, it was about 21:45 and, believe me, I was ready for bed.

As usual, it took an age to go off to sleep, but once I’d gone, I’d gone until all of when I needed to leave the bed to take a stroll down the corridor.

As I was passing the Fusebox on the wall, I checked the time. 01:34. That was a good night’s sleep, I have to say.

Back in here later, I crawled into bed but I just couldn’t go back to sleep again, and there I lay for almost five hours, tossing and turning, until the alarm went off at 06:29.

Eventually, I managed to summon up the courage to go into the bathroom for a wash and shave, and then in the kitchen, I washed my medication down with a mouthful of orange juice. After all, it’s dialysis day today.

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

There was something about having to massage a different leg than usual. This was more swollen, maybe, than the other one. But when I went to dialysis, they began to extract the water from that leg instead of out of my left arm.

That wasn’t much good, was it? I could do with more exciting dreams than that! But this idea of “a different leg” – how many legs do you think I have? I’m not Jake the Peg.

However, dreaming about dialysis is not just scraping the bottom of the barrel, it’s going through the barrel and into the mud underneath.

The nurse turned up today as usual and chatted about not very much. He’s off on his week’s break this evening so as he left, I wished him a nice break.

Once he’d gone, I could make my breakfast and finish off the last of REPORT ON EXCAVATIONS MADE UPON THE SITE OF THE ROMAN CASTRUM AT PEVENSEY by Charles Roach Smith.

To be quite honest, this book was something of a washout. Roach Smith spends just about three or four pages discussing the excavations, and the rest is comparing the site with other Roman sites elsewhere. As for the finds, there are about three pages of coins tucked away in the appendices. I hope that the next book is more enlightening and interesting.

Back in here, there were a few things that I needed to do, and then I had to check over the radio programme that I was sending off for broadcast this weekend. Afterwards, I made a start on my Welsh homework. There’s still another week before it needs to be in but I want to press on if I can.

As usual, my faithful cleaner turned up to put the anaesthetic on my arm, and then I had to wait for the taxi. And wait, and wait and wait.

The taxi was half an hour late coming for me, but it was my favourite driver so I didn’t mind too much. We had to go to Sartily to pick up another passenger, and so we were hours late arriving at dialysis.

It was in fact 14:45 when I was finally plugged in, and so that meant another really late night arriving home.

With the two bad nights that I’ve had, I was hoping to have a good sleep this afternoon to catch up, but it wasn’t to be. There was a constant stream of visitors this afternoon, and when there wasn’t, the machine was playing up so that brought the nurses running every five minutes.

On top of that, firstly, the doctor came to see me. I had to take a “sample” to him today, so he told me that they were going to analyse it to see whether it’s the dialysis that’s “causing these problems” for me (whatever “these problems” are) and if so, they’ll “do something to help solve the problem”. I don’t like the sound of that one minute.

And then we had the dietician. Apparently, she’d been talking to Emilie the Cute Consultant and they’ve found an intravenous drip that they think might work plugged into the dialysis machine. I don’t like the sound of that either, but at least it means that I shan’t have it stuck in a vein or something.

The way things are, I’m beginning to regret ever having said anything to anyone at dialysis.

Once again, I was the last to be unplugged, but luckily the driver was waiting to take me back home. And it was another one of my favourite drivers so we had a lovely talk all the way home, mainly about cancer and suicide, would you believe? She had quite a story to tell me.

My cleaner was waiting for me when we arrived. She helped me into the apartment and sorted me out.

After she left, I came in here to write up my notes, and now I’m off to bed. Now that the coughing seems to have calmed down, it’s really annoying that there’s something else now that seems to be keeping me awake.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about different legs … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of an incident at Balmoral Castle all those years ago when a serving wench, serving Prince Philip, suddenly burst out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
"What’s the matter, girl?" asked the Queen. "Are you feeling hysterical?"
"Och, no, ma’am. He’s feeling mine."

Sunday 10th May 2026 – WHAT A CHAOTIC …

… night that was! I’m still not sure of quite what happened, but I’ll try to piece it all together as I continue, and we’ll see what we can find.

Last night, having made something of an effort, I finished my notes and had them online by about 21:00. With everything else that I needed to do, it was not far short of 21:45 when I climbed into bed. It was rather later than I had hoped, but a nice lie-in was forecast for tomorrow.

So, well tucked in, deep beneath the quilt, I tried to fall asleep. And tried, and tried, and tried.

Instead of going to sleep, I just lay there, having what they call over here a nuit blanche, watching the clock go round and round and sifting through all kinds of various thoughts and memories of a misspent youth and dozens after dozens of opportunities missed.

At one point, I had to leave the bed to go to stroll the parapet. When I came back, I checked the time – 05:10 – so I surprised myself, and probably you too, by spending an hour or so dictating some radio notes from the outstanding pile.

In fact, I would have done much more, but as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … one of these new medicaments is giving me a very dry throat and after about an hour, I was croaking like a frog.

Back in bed, I actually managed to fall asleep, but not for long. I kept on waking up, wondering when the nurse would arrive. And when he finally did put in an appearance, I was fast asleep.

He didn’t stay long, but after he left, I was wide awake and couldn’t go back to sleep. Eventually, I hauled myself out of bed and went into the bathroom.

When I finally made it into the kitchen, it was just 09:33 and that will suit me fine for a Sunday. I made my porridge and strong coffee, warmed up two of my homemade croissants, which I had today with apricot jam, and read some more of REPORT ON EXCAVATIONS MADE UPON THE SITE OF THE ROMAN CASTRUM AT PEVENSEY by Charles Roach Smith.

His excavations are being hampered by many missing pieces, which he puts down to looting by the local population. He tells us that "when the Government of our country has no regard for its ancient monuments and will not protect them, the ignorant despoilers who pull down Roman walls and plough up Roman camps can no more be blamed than the covetous jobbers who conspire to destroy old buildings and churches to make new ones."

If you didn’t know that this was written 170 years ago, you would swear that he’s talking about HS2, where ancient cemeteries, listed buildings, thirteenth-century churches and prehistoric remains are being destroyed day by day for a failed vanity project that will reduce the time of travel from London to Birmingham by just ten minutes, ten minutes that will then be lost by walking to another mainline station to catch a connection onwards.

He’s also right about his assumption of the Iter Britanniarum. Thomas Wright, our previous author, used the absence of places such as Pevensey in the Iter to justify his faith in the (forged) works of Richard of Chichester. Roach Smith tells us, correctly as it subsequently turns out, "that most of these castra were not constructed until subsequent to the compilation of the Itinerary of Antonius … were clearly brought into the line with what became in later times the ‘Littus Saxonicum’ … there is every reason to infer that they were not at that time in being."

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone and, to my surprise, there was something on there, so I must have gone to sleep at some point.

I was discussing changes to the JD Cymru League again. One of the things that I suggested in respect of the playoffs was to abandon these abysmal penalty shootouts if the scores are equal after ninety minutes and the teams just play on and on and on until someone scores a goal.

These penalty shootouts really are abysmal and if I had the chance to be in charge, I would want teams to play on until someone scores. However, I would go farther and say that any player who had received a booking would be excluded from any time after ninety minutes;

A game between Stoke City and Uruguay would be interesting. Come extra time, there would be no-one on the field to play.

We were then at the JD Cymru League playoffs, at the final. There was one team that was having to have some kind of extreme treatment so that they could carry on playing in the final. I was there with this kind-of trophy. It was like two cermaic segments of a circle or something, bits of a bowl. They were arranged in a sort of cruciform pattern. I had to carry it out to the touchline, something that I was not happy to do because if I were to drop it, I was certain that it would break.

And couldn’t you just imagine me carrying a huge ceramic trophy onto a football field? How far towards the centre circle do you think that I would reach?

Back in here, we had a footfest. One Scottish play-off match after another. I think that there was only two that I missed. There were even some English ones too.

After a nice relax when I didn’t do much, I turned my attention to the radio programme that I started yesterday. All of the music has now been chosen, not without difficulty. It’s all reformatted, re-edited, remixed, paired and segued, and all that remains to do is to write the notes, which I shall start on Tuesday afternoon after my shower. Some of the notes are written already.

At 16:30, I knocked off to make the bread for next week and, even as we speak, it’s busy baking in the oven. When it’s finished, I’ll take it out to cool and then I’ll be getting ready for bed, early as it might be.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my voice croaking … "well, one of us has" – ed … a little boy went up to his grandma and said "granny, granny! Please make a noise like a frog!"
"Why, dear?"
"Because daddy said when you croak, we’ll get all your money!"

Saturday 9th May 2026 – I HAVE TO ADMIT …

… that I was feeling much better this morning. Not exactly sprightly, unfortunately, but much better than I was a few days ago.

What I put it down to is the course of antibiotics that I’ve been given. I know that one swallow doesn’t make a summer and two tablets out of the ten that I’ve been given don’t count for a lot, but I awoke several times during the night, and to my surprise, I wasn’t coughing.

Last night, I started to write out my notes quite early in an effort to have yet another early night, and it was just before 21:00 when they finally went online. There were a few other things that needed doing afterwards, including taking my evening medication, but it can’t have been much after 21:30 when I finally crawled into bed.

As I mentioned just now, it was a turbulent night when I awoke on three or four occasions. I’ve no idea what time because I didn’t look, but it was dark and the electric water heater was working.

The final time that I awoke, there was bright daylight streaming in around the edges of the shutters so I wondered if I’d overslept through the alarms. But when I checked, it was 06:25 – four minutes before the alarm was due to go off. The nights are getting shorter.

In theory, I could have put my feet on the floor and claimed an early start, but I couldn’t be bothered. Instead, I lay in the warmth under the covers and waited for it to go off.

It didn’t take quite so long to summon up the enthusiasm to go into the bathroom this morning, and then I went into the kitchen for my energy drink and medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And I was surprised at the distance that I seem to have covered.

I was somewhere in some kind of school or college. We were doing a kind of science fiction film and everything like that. There was a group of us, or we were divided into small groups or something, and we were wandering around in our group. One of the other groups came along and began to attack us with these weird science-fiction type machines. It became something of an aerial display or bombardment or something from these really rapid, powerful and fast machines flying overhead all the time, going mainly in one direction and then presumably turning around somewhere and coming back in the same direction and so on. It had us, well, not pinned down because it wasn’t aggressive, but it was a flying display of all kinds of these strange machines. We were trying to work out whether they were remote-controlled or whether there were people flying them or something, because there were far too many to be flown by this one small group. This went on for ages and ages with these plane-type things flying over our heads. Eventually, they all disappeared. We were somewhere along the track of an old disused railway. Once they had all gone, one of the people with us decided that he was feeling hungry and was going to eat something. He asked about the rest of us, so I replied that I’d just nip back to school for a moment and fetch some biscuits from my bag. I went back to school and there were kids everywhere. There were all kinds of equipment and so on relating to these science-fiction things. I went to my bag for some biscuits but there weren’t all that many. Someone gave me some kind of cable but I already had four or five different ones in my hand so I had to go back to my room to sort them out, to make sure that I had what I wanted, and the one that that other person had given me, I’d leave behind on the bed for later.

This must have been a fascinating dream. I can still see the flying machines even now, and they would have been too small to carry a person. They reminded me of the very primitive attempts at gliders or kites such as those built by the Frenchman Clément Ader, with bat-like wings, and they were yellow, red or green. But there were thousands of them.

I spent a lot of time last night roaming through the junior levels of the Welsh pyramid. There were two cases that came to mind – the first was a girl who had been administered a vitamin supplement twice – first by her former team and then by the team that she rejoined later. This was put down to a confusion of paperwork between the two clubs so no action was taken against anyone. The second was a similar kind of case between three small boys. This was ruled to be due to a change of personnel or something like that, and someone who had left hadn’t noted something in a file. There were no charges brought against any of the clubs for misbehaviour or anything like that. It was all due to negligence or carelessness or something.

Interested as I am in football in Cymru, I’ve no idea of anything at all about this dream. And the idea of three small boys is nothing special. Drug testing in football over there is routine these days, and the Football Association of Wales controls all football from under-11 upwards, and I’ve seen 9-year-olds playing in under-11 games in the past.

There was a girl at work with whom I’d been at school. Somehow, we found ourselves in the same supermarket after work. She bought one or two things and so did I, and I gave her a lift home in my van afterwards. Next day at work, we were working away quite happily but then, in the afternoon, I had to go somewhere to do something. I went down to my van and found half a baguette in there that I’d bought, another half-baguette and a loaf of bread that this girl had bought. I picked up the loaf of bread and thought that when I go back to the office, I’ll take it to her and give it to her. I set off on foot on this errand and began to walk down Welsh Row in Nantwich. I ended up walking miles, and it was all through streets and lanes around Nantwich. Then I was in Brussels, walking through Brussels. It seemed to take ages to do what I was trying to do, with walking all around these places. It was sunny, it was sweaty and I was walking up a pedestrian alley, but someone had tied a rope across it as if to close it so I just opened the rope and walked through. Some Dutch guy began to have an argument with me about moving the rope so I told him to clear off, but he didn’t and this argument carried on. In the end, I used a couple of really vulgar Flemish terms and it looked as if he was going to come over and fight with me, but instead, he just wandered away. I found myself in a park, and after walking through this park for five minutes, I realised that there was a huge drop over the wall and I wasn’t sure how I was going to find my way out. Suddenly, I came to an entry that I didn’t know was there so I went through an entry onto the road and began to walk towards Nantwich. There was a house with a ginger cat so I went to stroke the cat but it wouldn’t come to me. It ran away. Eventually, I found myself back in Brussels again, walking up from Woluwe St Lambert into the centre of the city and into work again. There was one lift that you could only take, that went all the way to the top so I went in there, came out and went into another lift and went back down to my floor and found that I was in the wrong building. I had to go across to the next lift, which was exactly the same – straight to the top – and back down again into the office. I still had this loaf of bread with me but when I came into my office to sit down, I couldn’t see the girl at that moment.

The girl concerned in this dream unfortunately died shortly after leaving school. When a group of us heard that she had become seriously ill, we went round to her house but her parents wouldn’t let us come in. At first, we were quite annoyed by that, but as time has gone on and I’ve seen people die, I can understand how she and her parents must have been feeling.

And a lift again, just like the previous night. I wonder why these are suddenly appearing during my dreams. It’s not as if I’m ever likely to encounter any these days. However, wandering around Brussels in my dreams is nothing new.

The nurse turned up as usual and asked how I was. I told him that I was feeling better than yesterday, but he didn’t have much to say for himself. He was soon gone and then I could make breakfast and read some more of REPORT ON EXCAVATIONS MADE UPON THE SITE OF THE ROMAN CASTRUM AT PEVENSEY by Charles Roach Smith.

And here we go again. He tells us that "the mortar, that important ingredient which Saxon, Norman and English architects only imperfectly understood, was made by Roman masons on a principle so sound and unvarying that its tenacity is unimpaired by age and its solidity is nothing inferior to the stones and tiles it cements together"

He then goes on to mention that "it is nothing unusual to find Roman mortar used as facing stone in the walls of our medieval churches".

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I wonder what happened to the people who built the stone walls so well and made the mortar that has lasted for all these years. If they had been pushed into Wales or over to Brittany, as has often been suggested, why aren’t there any of these types of stone buildings there dating from the early mediaeval period? And if they had been absorbed into the Anglo-Saxon population, why didn’t the use of stone and mortar continue?

It really beats me why ethnic cleansing has been ruled out by most authorities.

Back in here, there was football to watch. Arbroath v Dunfermline, with Arbroath failing to overturn the 1-0 deficit from midweek. So Dunfermline march on, one step further towards the Scottish Premier Division.

Afterwards, it was the National League playoff semi-finals – Carlisle v Boreham Wood and Rochdale v Scunthorpe. With both games ending 2-1, we’ll have a final between Rochdale and Boreham Wood to see who plays next season in League Two.

With all of that out of the way, I had another look at the radio programme that I mentioned yesterday. This is going to be a complicated affair but I cracked on all the same. In the end, after much binding in the marsh, I was able to identify, from a list that I had to make, which ended up containing 451 albums of all genres and of all different kinds of obscurity, about twenty that I actually owned, by fourteen different artists.

At that point, I went into the kitchen for my afternoon medication and ended up spending an hour tidying out the fridge. I really must be feeling better!

Having done that, I made a taco roll with some of that vegan cream cheese and salad. And it was really nice too. I shall have to order some more of that next time I’m online shopping.

Back in here again, the sunlight was streaming in through the windows, the temperature was 24°C and it was lovely. I thought that I’d just close my eyes for a few minutes and soak up the heat, so there I was, thoroughly enjoying myself until I fell off the chair seventy-five minutes later. What a waste of time, but it really was nice.

Pushing on, I finished sorting out the music for the radio programme and I had even chosen more than half of the tracks and remixed and re-edited them by the time that I knocked off.

So right now, I’m off to bed, looking forward to a good sleep and a lie-in tomorrow until the nurse wakes me up … "he hopes" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about these flying machines … "well, one of us has" – ed … it remind me of a scene from UP THE CHASTITY BELT as Frankie Howerd prepares to leap from the top of the castle tower, wearing his bat-like wings.
"Oh look!" exclaimed Lady Lobelia. "It’s Lurkalot. He flies again!"
"Ahh, Lurkalot!" exclaimed the boxer Billy Walker, playing the part of Chopper the Woodsman. "His flies be his undoing."

Monday 4th May 2026 – I’M REALLY GLAD …

… that I didn’t have to go to dialysis this morning. I would probably have never even made it to the front door.

As I told Isabelle the Nurse later, this morning was the worst that I had ever felt in my life.

It didn’t seem like that last night, though. It’s true that with baking my loaf and all of that last night, I was quite late starting to write my notes. And with everything else that I have to do too, it ended up being well after 22:00 that I finally finished everything and crawled under the quilt covers.

As usual, it took a good while to go to sleep, but I awoke at some point due to a desperate coughing fit, so desperate that it caused me to vomit no fewer than four times. After that, somehow I managed to go back to sleep.

But not for long. I awoke again, this time for a different reason, and when I checked the time, it was 03:54. So when I’d finished walking the parapet, I came back to bed but I couldn’t go back to sleep. There I lay until the alarm went off at 06:29.

At that point, it was a desperate struggle to rise to my feet and I almost didn’t make it. And in the bathroom, I crashed out on the chair in there at least twice while I was trying to sort myself out.

Not surprisingly, I was hours late going into the kitchen, but as it’s a Dialysis Day, I just had a mouthful of grapefruit juice to wash down my medication.

Back in here, I fell asleep in my chair I don’t know how many times, but even so, I managed to transcribe the dictaphone notes.

This was a dream about a girl whom I knew in school but unfortunately it vanished as soon as I reached for the dictaphone. That was a shame because it was one of these extremely interesting. One part that I do remember is that some kind of booklet had been published and that a friend of mine who was a critic had given very positive reviews. But it turned out that it was one of these “new wave” books, talking about lesbianism, that kind of thing. It was denounced in several countries because of its theme and she was put on some kind of list to prevent entry into many of these countries because of her critique

What a pity that I can’t recall the first part of this dream. It sounds as if it might have been interesting. I wonder who the girl was too.

As for the second part, this appears to relate to nothing at all.

When Isabelle the Nurse turned up, I told her of my woes, and she insisted that I talk to a doctor about them. She has agreed that this has gone beyond a joke.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright. However, I can’t remember anything that I read. I do, however, remember falling asleep four or five times while I was eating, despite how strong I’d made the coffee.

Back in here, I fell asleep for an hour in my chair and then gradually came round into the Land of the Living. I spent the next fifty minutes researching the next radio programme and then went to prepare my things for dialysis.

My faithful cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic and then I had to wait for the taxi. We had to go to Sartilly to pick someone else up, and so we were late arriving at dialysis. It goes without saying that I was one of the last to be plugged in too.

While I was being attended to, I mentioned that I would like to see the doctor on duty, so my nurse made a note. And once she’d left, instead of doing any work, I settled down and went to sleep – in so far as it was possible to do so in there.

There were all kinds of people buzzing around my head, but I didn’t take very much notice. It turns out that with everything that I had told them about the fatigue, they had turned the machine up to “maximum” and prolonged the stay from three and a half to four hours. Consequently, just over 3500 ml of fluid was being extracted and my dry weight was set well below my “sporty” weight.

The doctor on duty who came to see me was Emilie the Cute Consultant. She told me that the fibroscopy had discovered two aggressive microbes in my lungs, and so she would prescribe a course of aggressive antibiotics to deal with it. I hope that their aggressiveness matches the microbes – or at least gives me some relief.

While I was at it, I was also having a little chat with an old schoolfriend who now lives in Crewe. He was doing his best to console me, which was very nice.

It was one of my favourite taxi drivers who came to pick me up, and because we had to fuel up with diesel at the depot, we were later than ever arriving home. My faithful cleaner helped me into the apartment and after she left, I came in here to write up my notes. No tea again.

So now that I’ve written up my notes, there are still a few things to do and then I’m off to bed, hoping for a better day tomorrow. After all, it could hardly have been worse today, could it?

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the contents of my lungs … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone once asked me "do you know what ‘bacteria’ are?"
"They are the rear entrances to cafés, aren’t they?" I replied.

Friday 28th April 2026 – RIGHT NOW, IT’S …

… just about 20:08 and I’ve just awoken after crashing out on my chair for a little over half an hour. Not that it’s a surprise, because I’ve worked really hard today, even if I didn’t feel in the least like it. And that’s no surprise either, after the night that I had last night.

Yesterday, I started to write my notes quite quickly and managed to keep on going relentlessly for quite a while. It was a few minutes after 21:00 when I had finished what needed to be finished, and I reckon that by 21:15, I was under the covers in the comparative comfort and warmth of my bed.

It took, as usual, a few minutes to doze off, but unfortunately not for long. I had a dream at about 23:00, according to the timestamp of the recording, and I awoke not long afterwards with another dramatic fit of coughing.

And there I lay yet again, watching the room go round and round until I felt the need to leave the bed to go to walk the parapet. At that point, I checked the time. It was 06:04 – 25 minutes before the alarm.

Back in here, I sat on the edge of the bed until the alarm sounded, and then it took me about ten minutes to summon up the courage to go to the bathroom for a good wash, etc.

In the kitchen, I made my hot lemon, ginger and honey drink to wash down my medication and then came back in here to find out where I’d been during the night.

During the night, I ordered an album online and it finally turned up. At first, it didn’t sound right at all, but then when I took a close look at it, I found that the tracks that I was hoping to hear were originally written by another group and recorded by them. These were the ones that were on this album instead of hearing the ones that I knew, which were on a different one. Consequently, I stayed to listen to them before I made up my mind whether I would accept this album because of its strangeness and its rarity value

What album would this be? I can think of many albums with songs by artists or groups that have been recorded by others and gone on to become much more famous. Eric Clapton reinterpreted probably half a dozen songs by JJ Cale, such as “Cocaine” and “After Midnight”, and Colosseum’s live version of ROPE LADDER TO THE MOON is much better than any way Jack Bruce used to play it.

There was a lot going on with Hawkwind too, but it was after I’d awoken so I can’t make up my mind whether it was a dream or a daydream. It involved three Hawkwind songs, biographies of two Hawkwind members who had very unhappy lives, and a girl aged about ten or eleven sitting in an office colouring a book, obviously on a school break with nowhere to go except to daddy’s work. But when discussing the third song, I awoke bolt-upright (something that I haven’t done for several weeks) so I must have been asleep at that point.

There’s always a place for Hawkwind on my playlist, whether awake or asleep, but I wonder what the rest of the dream has to do with it.

Isabelle the Nurse blew in as usual, full of joie de vivre after her week’s break. She asked me about how things went, so I told her about Friday and how much I hated it. And in her joyful manner, but with a glint in her eys that was far from joyful, she gave me a lecture about how important it is to follow medical recommendations. Much as I like her, I wouldn’t like to be one of her children.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we’ve been discussing the household and the finds that have occurred at various places all over the country. It all points to an easy, comfortable life but I bet that in all honesty, the lower classes had nothing like any of these artefacts and their life was a constant struggle.

Back in here, I had a few things to do and then I had to revise for my Welsh. The lesson passed really well, which is nice. I need to keep on with all of this revision because it is making things better. And as an aside, my homework was described as “a masterpiece”. Seriously.

At the half-time break, I put the washing machine on with a pile of clothes for washing, seeing as I’m beginning to run out here. I didn’t bring many clothes with me from the farm.

After the lesson, I sorted out the bathroom and then my cleaner came along to shoo me under the shower. I didn’t feel in the least like it, but I persevered, and it really was a weary me who steered himself back in here afterwards.

While I’d been in the shower, my cleaner had changed the bedding, so this nice, clean me … "well, clean anyway" – ed … will have a nice clean bed in which to sleep tonight.

Once I’d summoned up the energy, which was not easy, I had the radio programme notes to write. And by the time that I knocked off, they had all been written, all ten of them. No wonder I crashed out afterwards – that was no mean feat, especially when I’m feeling as shattered as I am.

So right now, I’m off to bed and to sleep, if my coughing fits will let me. No food yet again, although I’m starting to see visions of cheese sandwiches. That means that there’s an appetite still lurking around somewhere.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Hawkwind … "well, one of us has" – ed … Nerina once took me to a Hawkwind concert at Keele University for my birthday.
When the group came onto the stage, she dashed to the front, like most kids do (she was several years younger than me).
After a while, she came to find me at the back of the room. "Why don’t you come down to the front? The view’s so much better there" she said.
"That’s as maybe" I replied "but the smell is so much better at the back, hey, man."

Monday 27th April 2026 – TODAY HAS NOT …

… been much better than the last couple of days, unfortunately.

As seems to be usual these days, I was later than I would have liked to have been, going to bed last night. With the football that ran on until about 20:15, by the time that I’d finished what needed to be done and sorted out myself in the bathroom, it was about 21:30 when I finally settled down in bed.

Something else that is also becoming usual these days too is the fact that it took me longer than usual to drop off to sleep, But once I’d gone, I was gone.

Whatever time it was that I awoke, I had no idea, but it can’t have been long after I’d dropped off to sleep, because the electric water heater hadn’t switched on, so it was obviously before midnight. And there I lay, tossing and turning and coughing for the rest of the night until the alarm went off at 06:29.

It took a good while for me to leave the edge of my bed and stagger off into the bathroom, where, as well as a good wash, I had a good shave too in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. By the time that I arrived in the kitchen, it was much later than usual, but no hot drink today. It’s Dialysis Day, so just a quick mouthful of orange juice to wash down my medication.

Back in here, I transcribed the dictaphone notes from the previous night and they are now online, all of them. And what an effort that was. There weren’t any notes from last night – after all, if you don’t sleep for long, you don’t really have the time to go far.

The nurse came along as usual, and it shows you just how interested he is, in that he’d forgotten why I had been to the hospital on Friday morning. I certainly hadn’t!

After he had left, I made my breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we’re discussing interments and cremations, and so far, he’s managing to steer clear of any controversial subject. However, every time that he states that “it is, in my mind, undisputed that …” my immediate reflection is to go to check.

After breakfast, I came back in here and did a few things that needed doing (and didn’t do a lot of things that did) and then finished my Welsh homework. And that took much longer than it ought to have done too, what with having to reformat it into a *.pdf so that I could send it off for marking.

All the time that that was going on, I was having a chat, mostly about cats, would you believe, with an old school friend who now lives in Crewe, but I had to abandon in the end because it was time to gather up my things for dialysis.

My faithful cleaner came to sort out my anaesthetic. We had a really good chat and then, after she left, I had to go to … errr … walk the parapet, where I was caught in flagrante delicto by the taxi driver who came fifteen minutes early. “Still, the sooner we start, the sooner we finish” said Yours Truly, not knowing what the fates had in store for him.

There was already someone else in the car and we had a third passenger to pick up en route, the lady from the Old People’s Home at Sartilly, but even so, we were still early arriving.

It made no difference to me, though. I was still one of the last to be plugged in. And once more, after four days of no dialysis, I was still under my dry weight when I checked in. It’s amazing what no food will do for you.

There is one nurse there who is … well … a little lacking in tolerance than the rest, so guess who I had. And throughout the whole session, she did nothing but try to make me feel guilty about not being able to perform any of the procedures myself.

Let’s face it – there are people who have what I consider to be an irrational fear of spiders, or clowns, or anything else for that matter, but I don’t spend all of the time criticising them. By the end of the session, it had reached such an extent that I almost told her where to stick her plasters, instead of on my arm.

Another thing that really got my goat was that not one of the doctors on duty there came to discuss Friday morning with me. That they might not yet have received the results would be no surprise, but at least they might have come to talk about the visit and “what happens next”.

During the session, I was so wracked with coughing fits that I vomited again. This isn’t turning out very well.

The nurse had the last laugh. I’m convinced that she terminated the session early. I have an automatic blood-pressure test every thirty minutes, but I definitely counted one short of however many there should have been.

When the disconnection was complete, I had to wait twenty-five minutes for the taxi, and when he arrived, he confirmed the time for which he’d been summoned, which agreed with my suspicions. But then, we had to wait another twenty-five minutes for the lady from Sartilly to finish. It’s definitely not my day, is it?

My cleaner was waiting for me as usual, and she helped me into the apartment. And after she left, I said a phrase that has a connection, albeit distant, with a lump of turf and came in here to write out my notes.

Now that they are finished, I have no idea and neither do I care, but I’m off to bed, without a meal yet again. As I came into the building, I could smell chips being cooked, and quite frankly, it turned my stomach

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my cleaner … "well, one of us has" – ed … she and I were discussing apartments on sale around here in case my friend from Munich ever wants to come to join us up here in the “Monaco du Nord”.
There was one that I’d seen that looked quite nice, so I mentioned it.
"Do you know how much that costs?"
"No Idea" I replied
"It’s on sale at one million three!" she exclaimed.
Which, at that point, we both said in unison, completely impromptu, "between the two of us, we could probably manage the ‘three’. But where would we find the rest?"

EPIC HALL

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

Tag Archives: bad night

Thursday 18th June 2026 – YET ANOTHER DAY …

Tuesday 16th June 2026 – THE OTHER DAY …

Monday 15th June 2026 – HAVING CRAWLED MISERABLY …

Thursday 28th May 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

Tuesday 26th May 2026 – I HAVE NO …

Saturday 23rd May 2026 – TODAY WAS NOT …

Thursday 21st May 2026 – WOW! THAT WAS …

Wednesday 13th May 2026 – AND THERE I …

Tuesday 12th May 2026 – OH NO! NOT ANOTHER …

Monday 11th May 2026 – GOD ALONE KNOWS …

Sunday 10th May 2026 – WHAT A CHAOTIC …

Saturday 9th May 2026 – I HAVE TO ADMIT …

Monday 4th May 2026 – I’M REALLY GLAD …

Friday 28th April 2026 – RIGHT NOW, IT’S …

Monday 27th April 2026 – TODAY HAS NOT …

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