Tag Archives: home made bread

Sunday 6th July 2025 – WHEN THE ALARM …

… went off this morning at 07:59, I was sitting at my desk.

In fact I had been sitting at my desk for quite some considerable time. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s quite pointless going to bed early because all that it means is that I awaken correspondingly early next morning.

“Early” is one thing sure enough, but I’m not sure exactly where 04:10 fits into the scheme of things with regard to “early”. It certainly seems to be quite an extravagance to me.

Mind you, having said that, being awake at 04:10 is one thing. Leaving the bed is quite something else, and 05:01 makes it sound almost respectable by my standards. There was a reason for my lingering in bed for as long as I did, which you will discover anon.

So last night, feeling like death, looking like death and probably smelling like death too, I staggered into bed as soon as I had finished my notes, and that was the last thing that I remembered of the night.

There I lay, flat out until 04:10 when I checked the watch, but it was 05:01 when I finally fell out of bed.

The first thing that I did was to take advantage of the deathly silence and dictate the radio notes for the Friday of Woodstock. And what a marathon that was. The time ran to over 22 minutes, the longest recording by far for a rock music programme, and that is going to take some serious editing.

Once that was all finished (and that took its time, of course) I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And, more importantly, who had been with me. And I had a special visitor during the night. It was Zero who came to see me. We were on a train somewhere going into London. When we arrived, we had to come out of our station and catch a bus across London to Waterloo. I had my baggage and she had hers. She was right behind me and I stepped on the bus but it immediately pulled away and she was left standing at the station. I hoped that she had had the good sense to board the next one and follow me along. There were four British guys sitting on a seat, blocking the passage and making the conductor perform some hard work. He took my ticket when he came to me. I thought “what am I going to do now if I have to change buses?”. I asked someone and he replied “don’t be so worried. Just go with it”. So I just went with it. The bus pulled into Victoria Station … "not Waterloo" – ed … and I climbed out; and I had to look for the entrance. As I was looking for the entrance, Zero walked up. We went to sit down to wait for our train, but she said that she had handed in her luggage at the left luggage office, having put the wrong name on it. I told her to wait there for five minutes while I walked back around the corner. I walked into the first office and asked if they had a luggage reception centre. They replied “yes” so I explained what Zero had done. She replied “ohh, you want tithe railway office. This is the pub here”. I had then to go back out and begin to look for the railway office. Then I began to realise that time was marching on and I was going to miss this train if I were not careful so in the end I had to go back to her to tell her “well, everything is going to be OK” even though I knew that it wasn’t and we’d sort out the matter when we arrived at wherever it was where we were going.
I forgot to mention that in the dream where I was roaming around the station looking for the luggage office, there was a group of British people coming up to people to ask if they would like these people to give them a speech. I just ploughed on and when one stood in my way I just pushed him out of the way with my body. They were upset but I wasn’t in the kind of mood to be polite at that moment.

There is something of everything in that dream. First of all, we’re on a train again. And there I am again with Zero, some of the fates are pushing us together and others of the fates, such as my subconscious, are tearing us apart. Finally, I’m full of indecision yet again.

There are also connections to real-life events in this too. When Liz (“this” Liz, not “that” Liz) and I were in London in 2006, we actually had such an experience when she stepped onto a tube (the lady going first is always the most logical order) and the tube just set off. I followed on behind to our intended destination and luckily, she had continued on to there to await me.

The final part of the dream also has its parallel to a time IN LONDON IN 2007 when I was obliged to remind someone that he wouldn’t receive a performers’ licence if he were to have two broken legs.

Anyway, now you know why I lay a-bed until 05:10. I was hoping to go back to sleep and continue the dream with Zero but, alas, it was not to be.

Isabelle the nurse was late this morning and she hadn’t had time to read the hospital in Paris’s version of “War and Peace”. She had better return it to me tomorrow regardless, because she will be off-duty for a week and I need some information therefrom.

After she left, I made some breakfast and read some more of MY BOOK.

We covered a lot of ground today, starting by discussing the schools of London. And all of you teachers who are complaining about being understaffed, underpaid and overworked should spare a thought for the staff of St Paul’s School in 1512 where, "for one hundred and fifty-three poor men’s children, for which there were ordained a master, a surmaster or usher, and a chaplain".

We’ve also been discussing the position of men keen to learn the law who congregated in certain houses where they could lodge and share their experiences. He describes their customs and routines, and names their houses, and we can see straight away the origins of the Inns of Court and the modern-day legal traditions that are followed.

However, I had a very wry smile when I read his account of the houses, "built all of timber and covered with a thatch of straw or reed" and his accounts of the fires that took place in the city. He finishes his account by saying that the mayor then ordered "that all men in this city should build their houses of stone up to a certain height and to cover them with slate and baked tile, since which time, thanks be given to God, there hath not happened the like often consuming fires in this City as afore."

It goes without saying that Stow’s book, this edition being published in 1603, was 63 years prior to “The Great Fire of London” that destroyed an enormous area of the old City.

After breakfast I came in here to begin my Welsh class. And it went on until 16:30.

It was not a particular success but it was free and I need to take advantage of the few opportunities that come my way during the Summer. I forget so many things quite so easily that it’s the only way to keep it going in my head.

For a change, we were quite a small class, and I was the only male there. But everyone seemed to be friendly and keen and we had such a good time altogether.

Once the lesson was over I had things to do. Like bake some bread and make some dough for a pizza. There’s plenty of dough in the freezer but it’s in large man-sized … "PERSON-sized" – ed … lumps in the freezer and as I’m not eating so much these days, I just wanted a smaller size.

The bread is wonderful as usual and the pizza was really the best that I have ever made. The base was magnificent. I shall make a few more like this one, that’s for sure, if only I remember what I did so differently.

Right now though, I’m off to bed. I had an early start, I’m tired and I have dialysis tomorrow afternoon.

And as we have been talking about Zero … "well, one of us has" – ed … to dream of Zero returning during the night.
And if she does, I shall tell her "I dreamed about you last night, Zero".
"Did you really?" she will ask
"No" I will reply. "You fought me off."

Friday 20th June 2025 – WE NOW HAVE …

… a plumber to do the shower. He charges much more than I was expecting but he’s available and willing to do the work. The only thing that I have to watch is that he wants to do his project in my bathroom rather than my project in my bathroom. That’s the kind of thing that irritates me intensely, so I shall have to keep a close eye on him.

And on Wednesday next week we shall have a kitchen – well, at least, a delivery of all of the flat packs that will need to be assembled and fitted. It’s all ordered and paid for, and paying for it was an adventure in itself, more of which anon.

So, retournons à nos moutons as they say around here, last night I was totally and utterly wasted. I don’t think that I’ve ever been so tired. I staggered through the notes, the back-up and the statistics etc, feeling less and less like it as time went on.

In the bathroom I fell asleep while I was … errr … riding the porcelain horse and it took some effort to make my way beck here where I fell straight asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. It was only 22:45 too, which makes a change.

And there I lay, fast asleep and didn’t move a muscle until all of … errr … 05:20.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … being awake is one thing. Leaving the bed is quite another thing completely. It was about 05:50 when I finally dragged myself out from under the bedclothes and saw the light of day.

First task was to transcribe the dictaphone notes. There was some drink that I was supposed to be drinking and its chemical composition was really precise. I’d stir it every day with a metal spoon. One day, I’d left the metal spoon in there. When I went to pull the spoon out, I noticed that half of the spoon had dissolved into the liquid and wasn’t there any more. I was wondering “what on earth is this caustic substance that I’ve been prescribed that I’ve been drinking two of these each day?”.

This sounds like the disgusting drink of which I’m supposed to take two every day. I shudder to think what it might be doing to my insides if its chemical reactions are as bad as its tastes.

Everyone seemed to wake up early this morning so I didn’t have long to spend in here. I went and had a good wash and then to drink some coffee and have a chat.

However, we were all interrupted. A taxi turned up to take me for a medical appointment.

Don’t ask me why, because I was convinced that the appointment is on Monday, but apparently not. So I quickly put on my shoes and went downstairs with the driver.

It was nice to be outside in an early summer’s morning so I wasn’t complaining, although I did wish that there had been someone there to greet me at the doctor’s when I arrived. And after waiting half an hour and having tried the doors and found them all locked, I telephoned the dialysis centre. They confirmed that it is indeed today.

When the driver turned up to take me home, one hour later, the doctor still hadn’t arrived. We went back downstairs anyway to speak to the receptionist of the medical centre. She told me that the doctor wasn’t in today. She checked my appointments on the central medical website and there it was – for Monday, as I had thought. And so we went home.

It goes without saying that I’d missed the nurse. I did ring her up but it was the answerphone that answered the ‘phone.

At least, I could now eat breakfast and drink some more coffee. I certainly needed it.

The next task was to contact the kitchen fitter to remind him that we were waiting. I gave him a gentle nudge with an e-mail and he rang me back as I hoped that he would.

We had another lengthy discussion about everything that we needed and he promised to send me a final schedule later in the afternoon.

The postie turned up in the middle of all of that and dropped off a couple of parcels. All that I seem to be awaiting now are the microwave oven and the kitchen stool. The kitchen stool will be a boon because I really am now struggling to stay standing up for any length of time.

After lunch, the cleaner turned up, closely followed by the plumber. We showed the latter round the bathroom and he seems to think that it’s straightforward, although somewhat complicated.

He doesn’t like my idea of a wall and thinks that I should have a glass panel, “so that there’s more light” – not that light has ever bothered me, and that I should run the pipework behind a false wall rather than embedded in the new wall. He also wants me to change the toilet for a new one.

However, unless there’s a very good reason (which we won’t know until we remove the bath) my plans are staying put.

It took him a while to sort out everything that he needed to know, and then we agreed a price. Or, rather, he told me his. It’s useless giving me an estimate because we don’t know what’s involved until we remove the bath but I know his daily rate. Had I had any more time left to find someone else I would maybe have thought twice, but if he can do the job by the middle of July, which he thinks is eminently feasible, then I shall have to bite the bullet. Each month longer that I stay here, I’m having to pay an extra month’s rent.

With it being such a nice day, my friend and I went for a walk outside afterwards. I went over to the clifftop and watched the sea and the boats for a while until the heat drove me back inside again.

By this time, the kitchen fitter had sent me the list. He’s going to order the stuff from the DIY shop, but I need to order the stuff from IKEA.

That took a while and I blanched at the price that came out of it all, but it has to be paid. I’m probably over-engineering the kitchen But I’m only ever going to do this once and it has to have an island, if, for the only reason, to stop me falling over.

When it came to pay it, the struggle for position of The Worst Bank In The World took a new turn as the Crédit Agricole refused to make the payment.
Consequently, I telephoned them, and they told me "it’s over your transaction limit".
My reply was "I don’t care about the transaction limit. I want to make the payment. What are you going to do about it?"
"We’ll send you a form. Sign it and send it back and we’ll raise your limit temporarily"
"So I have to wait for the post to bring it, and the post to return it?"
"I’m afraid so" she replied.
"How much money do you have of mine in your bank?"
So she told me exactly
"Good. I’ll take it all out and find another bank who wants it and who will do what I want"
"I’ll have the manager call you back"
It goes without saying that the manager has yet to ‘phone.

However, I have been in this position before and it’s not for nothing that I also have bank accounts in Belgium, the UK and Canada. Consequently, the kitchen is all paid for and the things will be here on Wednesday.

In between everything else, I was editing the radio notes that I dictated the other day. They aren’t quite half done but I’ll keep on going with half an hour here, an hour there until they are finished. But it’s difficult to work when you have visitors.

There was also some time somewhere for me to make a loaf of bread, seeing as we had run out. I don’t know where all of this energy came from – or all of this time either, but I’ve certainly been busy today.

Tea tonight was sausage, beans and chips. And very nice it was too. I certainly enjoyed it and so did my friend.

And now I’m off to bed, ready for dialysis tomorrow I don’t think.

But seeing as we have been talking about the Crédit Agricole … "well, one of us has" – ed … an old farmer went into the bank to speak to the manager
"I need to take out a loan" said the farmer. "I need a new tractor and trailer and a few other bits and pieces"
"And how long will you need it?"
"I can pay you back over fifteen years"
"We can’t do that" said the banker. "To be honest, I doubt that you’ll live that long to repay it."
"Well, if I die" said the farmer "God in his Heaven will reward you when I arrive there."
"And what if you don’t go to heaven but go to hell?"
"In that case," said the farmer "I can give you the money myself when I see you."

Friday 13th June 2025 – IT HAS BEEN …

… a quiet day today.

It was quiet last night too. I didn’t stay up for all that long after finishing my notes. However, it was rather later than I anticipated when I went to bed. Everyone in the apartment had been asleep for quite a while by the time that I finally crawled in underneath the covers.

Once more, it took me a while to go off to sleep but once I was asleep, there I stayed until about 05:30. Not that I was up and about straight away though. It must have taken me another twenty minutes before I finally plucked up the courage to leave the bed.

With everyone still fast asleep, I began the morning by listening to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I’d been to hospital last night and I’d had some brain surgery carried out on my head. It had involved penetrating the skull. As a result I was lying there in bed with the extension cable wrapped around me and the plug on the end of that was resting on my stomach. At first I thought that it might have been the Hound of the Barnevilles … "he means ‘Baskervilles’" – ed … but that was still asleep on the floor by the fire so it can’t have been him so I wondered what animal of that nature was trying to crawl all over me while I was asleep.

The Hound of the Baskervilles was actually sleeping on the floor when I stuck my head in earlier. But dreaming about hospital again is pretty depressing. I want to forget all about that and relax during the night instead of ending up worrying just as much as I do during the day about my hospital visits.

Later on, I was with two people. We’d been on a very long trek from across some kind of territory. There was also a boy involved in this somehow. The woman was the mother of this child. I was with these two men, hiking away, walking through this rough land. We were having to climb up and down all kinds of obstacles and it seemed as if we were twenty years walking through this way. Eventually we came to a spot where we had to climb down a really, really long descent like off a clifftop. It was all muddy. We finally made it down to the bottom where we could say goodbye. Meanwhile, this woman and her son were somewhere about and I ended up doing something with this child, having a collection of possessions or something. This woman, I had this big silver or chrome ball, really heavy. I went up to her and said “I know what it is tomorrow” because I’d been told that it was her birthday. I was about to present her with this ball when she said “yes, it’s Grand Prix day tomorrow” which surprised me. But there was something in this dream about a tube of ointment but I can’t remember where it fitted in.

This dream reminded me very much of East Africa, not that I have ever been there of course, but how I would imagine it to be. However, it seems to have its basis in our Welsh lesson on Tuesday, when we were reading a book about a woman and her son who were the sole survivors of a cataclysm and they had to learn self-sufficiency and autonomy quite rapidly if they were going to survive.

Everyone seemed to come alive round about 07:00 so I went back into the living room to see how they were doing. My friend rustled up some coffee, I rustled up the orange juice and we had a very slow start to the day while I sorted out my medication.

The nurse burst into the apartment at about 08:30 and the reaction of the Hound of the Baskervilles will make sure that he won’t ever enter like that anywhere else ever again.

It had evidently put the wind up him because he was in and out of here in what must be a new World Record time, and we could set about making breakfast.

Later on, we came in here and spent quite a while talking about recording issues, fixing a few faults on a few recording machines and working out how to use an old digital mixing desk that has been lying around here for several years.

That was something that I’m glad we did, because we managed to make it work reasonably well, although the audio output is very low, even when the gain is set to maximum. One thing that we did find out though is that one of my microphones doesn’t work. No wonder that I’ve been having recording issues with it on one of the other machines that I have. All that it must have been picking up must have come from the external microphone.

While the Hound of the Baskervilles went for a walk, I sorted out my LeClerc order and sent it off ready for delivery later this afternoon.

We’re low on bread again so this afternoon I prepared some dough for a loaf and also for four bread rolls. We’re planning to have two tonight with burgers that I have ordered, and the other two will be for the broccoli stalk soup that I’m going to make on Sunday afternoon, seeing as I’ve ordered a broccoli head this afternoon.

When the order showed up I had one kilo of carrots and a broccoli head to wash, dice and blanch ready for freezing and that took longer than I would have liked. And while it was all preparing itself, I put away some of the things.

Not all of them, because I was feeling the strain this afternoon. I could only work in ten-minute spells and then I had to go to sit down for half an hour to recover. I was really feeling the strain and frustration this afternoon.

Tea was one of these nice burgers in a bread roll with baked potato and a vegan salad, followed by strawberries and cream (yes, we had a Leclerc order this afternoon). And it really was delicious too.

Tomorrow for tea we have aubergines so I might make an aubergine and kidney bean whatsit with pasta, followed by yet more strawberries.

However, that’s tomorrow. Tonight, I’m off to bed ready for dialysis tomorrow, I don’t think

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about brain surgery and the like … "well, one of us has" – ed … It reminds me of the time after one of my car accidents when I was sent to the hospital for a brain scan.
At first, I was rather worried but half an hour later the doctor did his best to reassure me.
"Don’t worry" he replied. "We’ve examined the x-rays and we’ve found nothing."

Sunday 8th June 2025 – THIS LITTLE PROJECT …

… of mine is turning out to be not so little.

But surprisingly, it all seems to be slowly coming together and we are making progress, although I shudder to think of what the cost might be by the time that we finish it all.

As I mentioned yesterday, you come across one problem, but the way to resolve it leads to the creation of two more problems. And to resolve them involves four more problems und so weiter. I’m beginning to wish that I’d found somewhere else.

However, finding somewhere else at the price that I paid for this place downstairs would have been impossible, and by the time that it’s finished (if it ever is) it will be exactly as I want it to be, so it had better be exactly what I want by the time that it’s finished, because it will be too late afterwards to do anything about it.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment, I had a relatively early night last night. It was only a few minutes after 23:00 when I finally fell into bed, although it took quite a while to go off to sleep, what with all of this turmoil swirling around inside my head

Once asleep though, I remember nothing at all until I awoke at … errr … 05:50. So much for my lie-in until 08:00. Whatever happened to the Sundays where sometimes I’d lie in bed until midday and sometimes long afterwards too? I realise that I can no longer do that, with the nurse coming round at 08:30, but a lie-in until 08:00 would be nice.

Not that I crawled out of bed straight away, though. I waited until I heard the electric water heater switch off at 06:20 and, having decided that I wasn’t going back to sleep, I bit the bullet and fell out of bed.

In the bathroom I had a good wash and then in the kitchen I sorted out the morning’s medication. There are fewer and fewer to take these days, which is good news. One day, we might reduce that figure down to none at all, but I don’t ever think that I could ever be that lucky.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was in a house with Neil Young last night and he began to play LONG MAY YOU RUN. I was listening to it and I was tempted to go to find my bass guitar and have a play with it but I was too busy listening to him actually performing it. It was about 04:00 in the morning or something like that when he was playing.

These days I don’t have to go far to find a bass guitar. There are two of them at the foot of the bed and the third is in the living room. Mind you, the fourth one is in Canada right now so that would be a long way to go, but it’ll be back here soon when I organise myself downstairs.

But if only I could play my bass guitar again. With this thing that they did to my left arm for dialysis, bending my fingers round is really painful. And then there’s the fact that I can’t stand up to play, and playing while sitting down is next-to-impossible

As for what time it was, I really have no idea at all but the dream itself was probably because just before going to bed I was listening to a Neil Young acoustic concert.

There was also something about Peter and the Three Wars of the Roses but that was one that sounded confused to me and I wasn’t sure of where I was supposed to be in the middle of all of that but I was certainly being swept around in some form of thing and I don’t know any more.

The Wars of the Roses probably relates to all of this stuff that I’ve been reading just recently about medieval castles, but if I was confused during a dream, that’s really something because when I dictate them, they all seem to be quite logical, no matter how confusing they might be during the light of day.

There’s no doubt about it – since I’ve been having dialysis my sleeping patterns have changed dramatically. As for the “I wasn’t sure of where I was supposed to be” – that’s the story of my life, isn’t it?.

When Isabelle the Nurse came round, she whipped off the plaster on my right leg and saw that the oedema had swollen up into a blister, so she promptly burst it. But it really does seem that we are just going backwards. This is exactly how things were early last summer and which I thought that we had long-since left behind us. It looks as if I’m on a race against time to move into this apartment.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of MY BOOK.

We’re still in York, and after about twenty pages of glorious exhilarating prose about the city, we’ve just about made it to the arrival of the Conqueror. We’ve still not begun to talk about Medieval Military Architecture. And when we eventually do, there’s another four Centuries to go at before we leave the medieval period and reach the Age of Enlightenment.

He’s still churning out the bewildering, flowery prose, and here’s another fine example –
"Considering the magnitude, population, and wealth of Roman York, and the number of public buildings which must necessarily have accumulated during the four hundred years which elapsed from the conquest by Claudian to the end of the Roman rule, and the presence of some of which is attested by inscriptions and foundations, it is remarked how very few monuments of the period remain above ground, or rather how completely the whole, with one or two exceptions, have disappeared."

Obviously, back in those days, there was no rationing of commas. And I shudder to think about what the flowery prose in this book of 1840 that we downloaded yesterday will be like.

Back here I finished off the radio programme and now that’s all ready to go when it’s ready. But it won’t be a while, that’s for sure. I’m well ahead now, which is just as well for the next few weeks I’m going to be occupied somewhat with my new abode.

And while we’re talking about our new abode … "well, one of us is" – ed … the rest of the day has been spent drafting a reply to the twenty questions that my kitchen fitter has asked me. I mentioned earlier that it all seems to be coming together and this series of e-mails that I had on Friday night and Saturday sound quite optimistic.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s nice to find someone who wants to do my project rather than his own. I don’t mind advice – in fact, I’ll take all of the advice that I can get and use it too – but I do object to people who try to impose their own ideas for no purpose other than it’s their idea (and to rack up the bill too, of course).

While I was at it, I sent an e-mail to the electrician to say that the electric is back on, and I asked him to let me have some kind of idea as to when he might be coming by.

We’ve no pizza dough so for an hour or two this afternoon, I’ve been kneading. We now have three lumps of dough – well, two actually because I had the third for tea and it was another delicious pizza. But I’ve no idea what I’ll be doing in the future because I’ve heard on the grapevine that the company that makes this excellent vegan cheese is going out of business.

While I was in the kitchen I also made a new loaf of bread. I didn’t really need it as there is quite a stock in the freezer but it seemed like a good idea. Once more, we aren’t going to be short of food for a while, which is good news.

So having done all of that, I’m off to bed. Later than I would like, of course, but that’s how it seems to be. I have my Welsh homework to do in the morning and then dialysis in the afternoon. At some point I have to fit in another lengthy WAR AND PEACE e-mail about the work downstairs.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about decorating my new apartment … "well, one of us has" – ed .. a painter once told me that a woman wanted him to paint her in the nude.
"So did you do it?" I asked
"Not at first" he replied, "and even later, not exactly"
"How do you mean?" I asked
"I told her that I’d have to at least wear my socks, otherwise I’d have nowhere to stick my paintbrushes."

Sunday 1st June 2025 – JUST FOR A CHANGE …

… this morning, I had a later start than usual.

When I stuck my head out from under the quilt, it was all of 06:56, and bright sunlight too. That’s the latest sleep that I have had for quite some considerable time, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall.

Mind you, not only is it earlier than the habitual 07:00 alarm call, with it being a Sunday we have the alarm call at 08:00 and so it was definitely what we would call an “early start”.

Not that it was looking much like it last night though. Despite having made a good start on finalising everything that I needed to do, in the words of the old song
" I dillied and dallied, dallied and I dillied
Lost me way and don’t know where to roam.
And you can’t trust a Special like the old time Coppers.
When you can’t find your way ‘ome"
Consequently, by the time that I’d finished everything it was long after 23:00, and then I had the radio notes to dictate.

Whatever went wrong there, I really don’t know. It was almost as if I’d lost the ability to read because I was making mistake after mistake after mistake. And while the finished article didn’t end up being the longest that I’ve ever dictated, it wasn’t all that far off.

There will be a lot of editing to do with that tomorrow.

Once I was finally in bed, I was soon asleep, and there I lay without moving until 06:56 when I fell out of bed in surprise.

In the bathroom I sorted myself out and then went for the medication. Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone but;, to my disappointment, there was another night when there was nothing on it. It must have been one of the longest, deepest sleeps that I’ve had for quite some considerable time.

Anyway, that was what I wrote at the time. The following day, no-one was more surprised than me to see that there actually was something on there from this particular night. I had absolutely no recollection of this at all. It was back in the Middle Ages and I was something to do with whatever went on in the Courts. However, one afternoon during some kind of challenge a group of people and I began to sing “Carry On” by Steven Stills. It went down so well that we decided that we’d stay together and keep going. We had to teach the audience quite a lot about the stage behaviour – they mustn’t climb on the stage, they mustn’t handle the artists etc, but generally speaking, they were quite benign with their attention and applause, and I don’t think that anyone was in any danger of hurting or being hurt while the festival was proceeding.

No-one was more impressed than me by the fact that in a dream, of which I had no recollection at all, I could remember that it was Steven Stills who wrote “Carry On”. Incidentally, it was a casual occasion of three people spontaneously singing in harmony at a birthday party that led to the creation of Crosby, Stills and Nash.

But as for the dream itself, this must be relating to all of the stuff about Woodstock that I’ve been doing recently where, amongst the 500,000 attendees, there was not one single case of interpersonal violence recorded by the medical team and the only incident of any note in that respect was when Pete Townshend of The Who threw protester Abbie Hoffman off the stage.

When the nurse came round, we had the usual banal chat about pizzas that we have every Sunday – I could write down the script in my sleep these days and I wish that he’d find another subject to discuss, or, at least, say something different about it.

After he left, I made my breakfast and read some more of MY BOOK. We’ve left Skenfrith and, having passed by Southampton Castle, we’ve arrived at Tamworth.

In the early medieval period Tamworth was the de facto capital of King Offa’s Mercia until it was ravaged twice in quick succession by the Norse. There was a mint at Tamworth in those days and many silver coins minted there can now be found in museums in the Nordic countries, presumably loot from the sacking of Tamworth.

When breakfast was over, I made some dough for the bread roll for my lunchtime toasted cheese. I’m still allowing myself one or two little luxuries despite everything else. I’m not going to deprive myself completely, that’s for sure.

Back in here I had several things that I needed to do, and then I set about editing the radio notes that I had dictated last night before going to bed.

It was in quite a mess too and I was right too about it all needing a lot of editing. What with all of the various side-tracking, I was ages working on it but by the time that I’d knocked off, I’d assembled the two halves of the programme and chosen the eleventh track that links it all together and written the notes. Here’s hoping that I’ve calculated the times correctly this week.

As for all of the interruptions, there was a lunch break with my delicious cheese and tomato on a toasted fresh roll.

Then there was a disgusting drink break, after which I made a loaf of bread with sunflower seeds for next week. I’d also taken some frozen pizza dough out of the freezer and it had been defrosting throughout the afternoon, so I kneaded it and rolled it out and left it to fester on a pizza tray.

Later on I baked my bread and assembled my pizza. When the bread was ready I put the pizza in the oven to bake. I ended up with a really magnificent loaf and another candidate for one of the best pizzas ever. At least something that I’m doing these days seems to be working out very well.

So right now, I’m off to bed after another good day’s work. It’s dialysis tomorrow of course, and I shall be expressing my displeasure to whichever of the dialysis team has drawn the short straw and has to come to see me. I bet though that they’ll all run away when they see me coming.

But seeing as we have been talking about the Norse raids on Tamworth … "well, one of us has" – ed … I was picturing the scene as King Offa sat in his hill fort at Sutton Walls when a serf comes bursting in
"Sire! Sire! Terrible news!" cries the serf. "The Norse have sacked Tamworth"
"That is indeed terrible news" says King Offa. "Who will they have in the dug-out for the next game?"

Friday 23rd May 2025 – I’VE HAD ANOTHER …

… one of those days when I just couldn’t seem to get going. It was a day of interruption after interruption as I lurched from one important task to another, and I don’t think that any of them are really completed either.

But last night was another one of those nights where, even though I finished work fairly early, couldn’t summon up the energy to go to bed, and just sat in the chair vegetating for a while. It’s really doing me no good at all, this. I know exactly what the problem is, though, and it’s that it takes so much effort to stand up from wherever I might be sitting. To rise to my feet is a major operation involving quite a few logistical issues.

Eventually though I forced myself and headed off into the bathroom to tidy myself up, and then I headed for my comfortable repos underneath the quilt, much later than I anticipated.

Once in bed, it took quite a while yet again to go off to sleep but once I’d gone, then I was gone, and gone for good too, all the way to … errr … 06:10. I remember nothing whatsoever of the night.

When I heard the electric water-heater switch off, I decided that I may as well leave the bed and go to sort myself out in the bathroom. And when the alarm went off at 07:00 I was in the kitchen sorting out the medication.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. It was in the clinic of the hospital, something like just before dialysis. The nurses had to fit the antiseptic patches for all of the people who were in there, mostly elderly with delicate skin. Very few of them were people with this tough kind of skin that you would expect to be resilient so it became something of a painful session and there were a lot of recriminations being traded around while people were waiting for their chairs to dry and for them to be called into their anaesthetic machines.

And that’s something else that’s getting o my nerves. As if I don’t already spend more than enough time in the hospital as it is? That’s the last place that I would want to be in my spare time when I should be out there on my travels in search of pulchritude.

That reminds me of course – that I’m going for another dialysis session tomorrow with my arm just as painful as it was on Thursday. I am not looking forward to this at all.

Isabelle the nurse came along as usual. Today she changed the plasters on my leg before sorting out my legs and feet and fitting my compression socks. She’s here for ten days, so she tells me, and that’s good news.

After she left I made breakfast and read some more of MY BOOK. We’re still at Pontefract Castle but I’ve been wandering around the Wars of the Roses in cyberspace for much of the time, following one lead after another, being side-tracked as usual.

After breakfast, the first job was to measure the bathroom, and that involved moving stuff around in the bedroom so that I could make my way into the wardrobe here to find the toolbox.

Having measured the bathroom, I waited around until 10:00 for this bathroom company to ‘phone me. Bang on time, they were there and a very helpful and polite woman told me that their company wouldn’t be able to do the bathroom as I required.

She did however say that she “knew a couple of people” who might help and if I were to forward to her some photos and a brief description of what I needed, she would pass the message on.

So the next task was to take some photos of the bathroom, and that involved moving stuff around, cleaning up and washing the tiles etc Then I had to edit the photos and send them off with a report. Now we have to wait for things to happen.

In the middle of all of that, my cleaner reminded me about my LeClerc order so I had to review that and send it off. And I bet that there is plenty of stuff that I’ve forgotten.

After a disgusting drink break I went to print out the invoice from the electrician to sign it and send it off with a deposit, but the print program crashed. After several hours of trying to repair the program I decided to uninstall it and start again. But with a document stuck in the corrupted print queue, the program won’t uninstall. So that’s another job for tomorrow.

If all else fails, I’ll set up a print program on the travelling laptop and print from there.

There was an interruption in the middle of all of that too when my faithful cleaner arrived to do her stuff. We went through all of the medication and sorted that lot out, and then she changed the bedding for me so that I have nice clean bedding for tonight. A shame that there’s not a nice, clean me to go in it but I can’t shower until this leg is healed.

After she left, LeClerc turned up so I had a pile of shopping to put away and 2 kg of carrots to clean, dice and blanch. While what was going on, I made a bread roll for tea because I fancied a burger in a bap.

As it happened, I used the wrong “burger” and ended up with a batch of frozen soya mince instead, which didn’t taste as nice as I was expecting, to say the least

So at some point today I managed to do a small amount of my Woodstock concert, but nothing like as much as I was hoping. I really need a couple of days when I can sit down and crack on with it, but I’ve no idea when that might be. There’s far too much going on right now and it’s not going to become any easier.

Anyway, before I go to bed, seeing as we have been talking about the lack of progress today … "well, one of us has" – ed … I happened to mention it to a friend with whom I was chatting on the internet a little earlier
"Whatever happened to all of the famous ‘get up and go’ that you used to have?" he asked
"Ohhh that!" I sighed. "That has all got up and gone a long time ago"

Sunday 18th May 2025 – REGULAR READERS OF …

… this rubbish will recall what happens on a Sunday morning, so they won’t need any reminder.

But for the benefit of new readers, of whom there are more than just a few these days, in the Good Old Days, Sundays used to be days of rest and I would lie in until I felt like leaving the bed. Sometimes it would be long after midday before I personally would see the light of day.

Since the nurse has been coming to see me every morning, those times really are a thing of the past. As he (or she) doesn’t usually arrive until about 08:20, I’ve tried my best to have a lie-in until about 08:00, just on the principle of the thing.

But now we have dialysis of course, and ever since then, almost every Sunday has been an early start, long before the alarm has gone off. Some times are earlier than others, but I don’t think that there has ever been a start as early as 02:05

Last night, I was absolutely whacked, as seems to be the case after a dialysis session. I skimmed through my notes and skimmed through the stats and the back-up. When I had finished everything, it was a mere 22:50.

There were the radio notes to dictate for programme 260417 and there weren’t all that many of those. By 23:15 I was tucked up in bed ready for a good night’s sleep and something of a little lie-in.

And so the story went. I was well away until all of 02:05 when I awoke. And to put the icing on the cake, I was drenched in sweat again and it’s been a long time since that has happened, hasn’t it?

It must have been a good hour at least that I was awake there, tossing and turning and trying my best to go off to sleep, and to my surprise, I eventually managed it. But not for long though. I was awake again at 05:50, drenched in sweat once more.

This time I couldn’t go back to sleep and by about 06:10, with it going light outside, I bit the bullet and hauled myself out of bed.

After the usual stint in the bathroom, I went into the kitchen for the medication. They have given me a new calcium pill, an effervescent one, and it gave me a stomach ache almost straight away. I shall have to make a note of that.

Back in here, there was some stuff on the dictaphone that needed to be transcribed. I was dreaming about some mythical God and his wife and family who used the taxis to take themselves to hospital examinations and how they were on good terms with as many people as possible although there were of course the usual one or two whom they hadn’t seemed to appreciate at all. It was only just going under way when I awoke, which was a shame.

That was when I awoke at 02:05. The dream itself is the usual confused mass of something else quite meaningless. Why would a God be going for medical treatment? Especially in a taxi? Surely if you are a God, you don’t need medical treatment, being omnipotent and eternal and all of that.

Then later, there was absolute chaos taking place as the whole economy had collapsed. There were people forming companies and businesses to do different things and were trying to arrange finance but the currency was collapsing so quickly that by the time that they had arranged some finance it was absolutely worthless. People were fighting over these limited resources and it was all becoming extremely unpleasant. There was no possible way for anyone to actually save anything. The medical service was probably the worst-hit with no medical care being offered to anyone. The most obvious course was for people to start dying by their thousands. I managed to isolate some kind of company and try to keep it out of the mainstream so that it wouldn’t be sucked in anywhere but it was a pretty difficult task and I really had to be very careful about where I was and what I was doing because I couldn’t allow it to be infiltrated or pirated by anyone else. While all of this maelstrom was going on inside the house, I was upstairs at the top of the stairs tucked away behind a corner. I heard a door open and it was two girls from the Grammar School in brown skirts and cherry-red cardigans. They were talking about a couple of musicians who had de-electrified themselves and were going to spend much more time just doing acoustic numbers instead as a way of keeping going. As these two girls went past, I decided that I’d follow them so that I could see if I could find out more about what it was they were talking about and who it was who was involved

This sounds just like post-Brexit Britain, or the housing collapse in 1992, but regular readers of this rubbish will recall the dramatic collapse of Sterling in 1973,1974 and 1975 with inflation roaring up from an already-high 10% to almost 30% per annum and the UK going cap-in hand with the begging bowl to the International Monetary Fund for a bale-out.

This dream has however made me scratch my head. Which Girls’ School had brown skirts, a brown blazer and cherry-red cardigans? I can see the school uniforms now but can I Elephants put a name to it?

The nurse came round as usual and the long-expected explosion took place. He began to talk about a subject that fills me with distaste (regular readers of this rubbish will recall exactly what it is) despite having been told on a couple of occasions not to discuss it so I told him that if he mentions it one more time, I’ll put him outside the door and find another nurse who will treat me and my wishes with respect.

After that, we had the silent treatment and then he cleared off.

I made breakfast and read some more of MY BOOK. We’ve left Norham Castle, had a brief whistle-stop of less than half a page at Nottingham Castle and have now arrived at Odiham Castle in Hampshire, where we began by discussing that unique piece of Medieval Military architecture known as … errr … “The Basingstoke Canal”, built at the height of the medieval period in … errr … 1794.

Our author tells us that "the place, no doubt, was always one of strength, and the open woodland about it was favourable to the preservation of game, and to the wilder kind of sporting in which the Plantagenet monarchs took great delight.". I don’t know about you, but that had my imagination racing.

After breakfast I came in here to deal with some e-mails. One of them was from a guy in Caen who had seen my advert for a joiner and had replied, requesting further information. I sent him what he needed and he ‘phoned me back. We had a very long chat that turned out to be quite productive.

If I engage him, he’s going to be expensive because he lives so far away but he seemed to have the correct kind of attitude – sensitive to my ideas but with good suggestions of his own.

There was another ‘phone call, this time from a plumber. He’s going to come to see me on Wednesday for a chat.

After I’d dealt with everything, I went for a disgusting drink break and then began to edit the radio notes. There were some from a couple of weeks ago so I attacked those, and now all of that is done, the two parts are assembled, the eleventh track is chosen and the notes written ready for dictation.

Then I made a start on those that I dictated last night, and I’m about a third of a way through them.

What made me stop was that it was baking time. I need a loaf of bread and a pile of pizza dough so I set about and bashed out some dough, leaving it to fester.

Back in here, there was football, Hwlffordd v Caernarfon Town. This was a “winner take all” scenario, with the winner representing the League in European club competition next season.

In front of a massive crowd for West Wales, the largest in the League this season, it was something of a damp squib. The Cofis were clearly exhausted after their marathon 50-week season and once it became obvious that their game plan of long balls over the top to feed lightning winger Louis Lloyd wasn’t working, they had no Plan B. There were some very leaden legs out there.

Hwlffordd on the other hand had a very slow start but once they slipped into gear they gave a workman-like performance without actually setting the game alight. Some rather uncharacteristic sloppy defending by the Cofis let Hwlffordd in for two simple goals that they should never have been allowed to have, and they scored a third from a breakaway right near the end when everyone from Caernarfon was up in the Hwlffordd penalty area.

Deep in stoppage time the Cofis pulled one back, New Zealand keeper Zak Jones thinking a ball was going out and not realising that Louis Lloyd was lurking behind him, but it was too little, too late by then.

In truth, it wasn’t a great spectacle. We’ve seen many much better games than this, and Hwlffordd will have to pull themselves up a few notches if they are to improve Wales’s coefficient on the European club stage.

Tonight’s pizza was another candidate for “the best ever”, and the bread looks really good too. I’ll tell you tomorrow what it’s like because right now I’m off to bed, later than usual.

But seeing as we have been talking about the Basingstoke Canal … "well, one of us has" – ed … it somehow seems to be appropriate that "it was favourable to the … wilder kind of sporting in which the Plantagenet monarchs took great delight".
When a friend of mine, who lives down that end of the country, came on-line later I mentioned it to her.
"I’m not surprised" she said. "Didn’t you know?"
"Know what?" I asked.
"The Basingstoke Canal in the time of the Plantagenet monarchs was where the sport of Serf Riding was invented."

Sunday 11th May 2025 – WHAT A GAME …

… that was. Another fine illustration of the quality and excitement that exists in some of the matches in the JD Cymru League. And for a town of just 9800 people, the 1,568 people who flocked into the stadium to see the game were treated to a pulsating, entertaining match.

But that’s something to savour later. Let’s talk about last night first.

By the time that I finished my notes and whatever else I had to do, I was running miles behind as usual. And, completely exhausted, I made a total cod of the dictating that I had to do and it ended up as being one of the longest that I’ve done. There is going to be a huge pile of editing to do there.

Anyway, it was at about 00:30 that I ended up crawling into bed, and I fell asleep before I’d hardly begun my usual nighttime mantra

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall what happens next. It’s the Sunday after a Saturday dialysis session and so round about 06:50 I was wide-awake. So much for my lie-in until 08:00. I lay there for a while tossing and turning but at about 07:05 I gave it up as a bad job and fell out of bed.

Off I staggered into the bathroom and cleaned myself up. Then I wandered into the kitchen for my medication, remembering to take the Vitamin D and Vitamin B12 that I should have taken yesterday.

Back in here I checked the dictaphone but there was nothing on it. That’s a disappointment because, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … the only fun and excitement that I have these days is what does on during the night. And if it involves my family, it’s not much fun and not what I would call “exciting” either.

Instead, I made a start on the back-up that I should have done yesterday but I didn’t go very far because Isabelle the Nurse arrived.

She changed the plaster and cleaned the wound where I’d had this biopsy, lanced the blister where I’d had my compression sock that I couldn’t pull over the wound on Thursday, dealt with my legs and fitted my compression socks for me. She was grateful for everything that my faithful cleaner had fetched on Saturday but she had forgotten the prescription that she promised.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of MY BOOK. We’ve finally left the Tower of London, not before doing some lengthy research into the Earls of Gloucester, and have now moved on to Ludlow Castle where, doubtless, the finer points of civilian architecture will be pointed out, at the expense of anything military.

Back in here, I had work to do.

The free trial period of an expensive antivirus that came when I installed Windows on my new System drive has now expired and so I disabled it. I have a favourite free antivirus – or, that is to say, I did – but just recently, it’s been picking and choosing what sites I can or cannot access.

It keeps telling me that even my own sites, that I wrote with my bare hands, are “unsafe”, not to mention many of the more famous sites on the web, many of which I access on a regular basis.

After a play around with it this morning, it still wouldn’t respond so I reluctantly uninstalled it. I used another one previous to this one, that I had rejected several years ago in favour of the new one, so I went back to install that one again, and it works just fine.

When I’d finished breakfast I had made some dough for a lunchtime bread roll. I baked it and then made some lovely cheese on toast for lunch. You’ve no idea how nice it tasted. And as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I’m really impressed with my air fryer, almost as much as I was with my galvanised steel dustbin.

This afternoon I made a start on the radio programme notes that I’d begun to edit just before going into hospital. And in a mad fit of energy I’d finished them, assembled the programme as far as I could, chosen the final track and written the notes ready for dictation next Saturday night.

There were of course the notes that I’d dictated last night but I ran out of time, which is probably just as well. I’ll try to catch up with those during the week some time.

There was more baking to do this afternoon. I’ve almost run out of bread so now seemed like a good time to make a loaf. I assembled enough ingredients for an 800-gramme loaf and with the correct amount of water thanks to my new scientific measuring gauge, with which I am also impressed etc etc, the dough rose up like a lift.

Not that I was watching it. I was in here watching Caernarfon play Cardiff Metropolitan for the right to play Hwlffordd next weekend for the coveted final spot in European competition in the summer.

The Caernarfon fans packed the ground and they had the privilege of being entertained to one of the fastest, most competitive games that I’ve seen all season.

The Cofis had the bulk of the attacking play but the Met’s defence stood firm and if their defence were to play like that in every game, they would be a force to be reckoned with. They had recognised long before the game that flying winger Louis Lloyd was the Cofis’ main attacking strength and had three men marking him throughout the game, giving him no room at all to move.

It wasn’t until near the end that the Met began to attack in numbers, and they created a few moments of panic in the Cofis’ defence.

And, would you believe, the match was decided by the very last kick of the game. You can see the game HERE or wait until the TV company has edited the highlights. But the highlights will miss the flavour of the game, that’s for sure.

While all of this was going on, I’d had some pizza dough, the last lot, defrosting in the kitchen. So while the bread was baking after the final whistle, I assembled my pizza.

The bread looks superb, the pizza tasted really good and everything now looks fine for the week to come. So I’ll finish my notes, back up the computer, take the statistics and then go to bed. Later than usual of course, but that’s just how things are these days.

But seeing as we have been talking about Isabelle the Nurse lancing my blister … "well, one of us has" – ed … they had a specialist unit once at Leighton Hospital near Crewe where a man was employed specifically to do just that.
However, I had head that it had closed down so I asked my friend who still lives there.
"It’s quite true" he said. "The unit has closed down"
"Why was that?" I asked, bitterly regretting ten seconds later that I had done so
"It was the man who lanced the boils and blisters" he replied. "He kept on falling off the horse."

Sunday 4th May 2025 – HAPPY STAR WARS DAY

May the fourth be with you.

And regular readers of this rubbish will recall exactly how today began. Probably many of the occasional readers will have some kind of idea too because it seems to happen almost every Sunday following a Saturday dialysis.

However, having said that, 02:55 is carrying it rather to extremes.

It can’t be because I went to bed early either. I know that 22:25 is a rather extreme time for hitting the sack these days, but I was so exhausted after yesterday’s dialysis session, light though it might have been, that I simply dashed through everything that I needed to do and just fell into bed.

At 02:55 I was wide-awake and actually thinking about leaving my bed and making a start but even then I realised that doing that was probably going to unnecessary extremes. I made myself comfortable the best that I could and prepared for a very long morning.

At some point though, I did go back to sleep. But not for long because when the alarm went off at 08:00 (it’s lie-in day today) I was back in here having already washed and had my medication.

Although I’d started to transcribe the dictaphone notes, the nurse beat me to it and I had to go to have my legs seen to. He’s definitely not coming tomorrow morning and wants me to go to bed in my socks. My cleaner is outraged but as it happens, I’ll be going to bed fully-clothed tonight. I have a 05:30 start.

After he left, I made breakfast and began to read MY BOOK.

On page 233 he tells us that someone was employed in 1223 to make balistas corneas. A ballista is an ancient type of heavy-duty crossbow used for launching stones and heavy iron objects at buildings and obstructions and regular readers of this rubbish will recall that in one of the ancient hill forts that we visited, a skeleton was found with a ballista bolt, or heavy-duty arrow, embedded in its back.

Consequently, I expected to see the odd page or two about ballistae and their construction, especially in a book about Medieval Military Architecture, but there is not a word. Nevertheless I carried out my own research and I’m now confident that I can build a reasonable ballista, to go with the rest of the Medieval and Roman equipment that I built during my University course in Historical Technology

Back in here, I transcribed the dictaphone notes from last night. I’d been out and about on quite a long walk etc. I’d been out all day and had travelled miles. When I had come back to the hotel in the evening I suddenly remembered or suddenly realised that I only had one of my crutches. I wondered where on Earth I’d left that – the other one – and how far I’d actually walked around my enormous circuit with just one crutch holding me. I asked them at reception and I held up my béquille – my crutch. Someone said “ahhh yes, we have the other one of those”. I thought to myself “have I really gone all day without one of my crutches and done it all with the one in all that distance that I’ve walked?” One guy came back he had a belt with him, a leather belt he handed it to my brother who put it on and was admiring himself I took hold of another waiter and asked him what was happening there The waiter said “that was found at breakfast and we thought that it might have been your brother’s” I said “I didn’t know about that, but what about my béquille that he went to fetch?” The guy replied “I don’t think that there was one. I think that what he was thinking about was that belt”. I had to accept the fact that somewhere I had lost a crutch and I would have to try to organise another one and pretty quickly too because I really couldn’t go anywhere without two crutches. I was surprised that I’d even attempted to go the kind of distance that I did today and only used one of the crutches for at least part of the way

That’s not the first (by any means) dream that I’ve had where I’ve picked up my bed and walked, in a manner of speaking. Wishful thinking, I’m afraid. And once more, someone from my family has put his sooty foot into my dreams.

Back in here there was the football and for the final game of the season, it was another insipid performance from Stranraer as they went down 0-1 against basement club Bonnyrigg Rose Athletic, and it was on their own ground too, not the New Dundas Swamp.

They had only five players on the bench too, mostly youth players, as the injury crisis has ravaged their tiny squad. But that’s a self-inflicted problem.

They need to be thinking about a much improved squad and performance next season, that’s for sure.

There was a ‘phone call after this. A builder whom I had been trying to contact ‘phoned me back. We had a lengthy chat but the big issue with him is that he isn’t an electrician and I can’t find an electrician anywhere right now. There’s no point starting the work if there’s no electrician to do the electrical bits.

After lunch, of leftover pasta and salad, I made a start on editing the radio notes but I knocked off to watch my niece’s youngest daughter graduate from University.

St Francis-Xavier University had begun to stream the Graduation ceremonies during the pandemic and they had kept on going. So I had the pleasant sight of seeing her mount the stage to receive her Degree. I had to wait for ages though, with her name being down at the bottom of the alphabetical list.

Rosemary rang me too and we had a chat – only forty minutes today because it was the Welsh Cup Final between TNS and Connah’s Quay Nomads. There’s no need to ask the score because it’s pretty self-evident, especially when the winners were handed the winning goal on a platter as the opposition defence stood around and watched.

But in an event that can only ever happen in Welsh football, the Nomads took the field with only ten men. They had named the wrong player, an injured defender, in the starting line-up and so were obliged to start the game with (or without) him on the field, and make a substitute for the missing player once the ball had gone out of play.

While all of this was going on, I was making bread and defrosting pizzas. The pizza was excellent as usual and the bread looks wonderful too. I’ll know for sure when I make my sandwiches tomorrow morning.

Right now, though, I’m off to bed ready for my early start tomorrow.

But seeing as we have been talking about Connah’s Quay Nomads just now … "well, one of us has" – ed … regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I have spoken before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … about various Welsh football clubs who have been playing with Martin Bormann and Lord Lucan, or a couple of Easter Island Statues in the centre of their defence
Next time that I need to talk about Connah’s Quay Nomads’ defence, instead of talking about our usual defenders, I shall mention that they are playing with the Invisible Man in central defence, and know that this time I shall be perfectly correct.
Rather like the time that the Invisible Man tried to make an appointment at the dentist’s
"I’m sorry" said the dentist. "I’m rather busy. I can’t see you right now."

Friday 2nd May 2025 – AS I HAVE SAID …

… before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … there’s not much point in going to bed early because all it means is that I awaken correspondingly early.

So when the alarm went off this morning at 07:00, I was already in the kitchen sorting out the medication, having already done the necessary in the bathroom.

But retournons à nos moutons as they say around here.

Last night I really was feeling quite queasy and uneasy and after I finished my notes at 22:20 and it wasn’t very much later than that when I hit the sack.

Once I was in bed it took a few minutes to settle myself down and once I did, then that was that. I remember absolutely nothing else.

That was until 05:50 when I had another one of those dramatic awakenings that I have sometimes. I lay in bed tossing and turning and trying to go back to sleep, but when I heard the electric water heater switch off at 06:20 I gave up the ghost and arose from the Dead.

After the good scrub and the medication, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone. Unfortunately, there was no Zero last night. However, there was a rock festival taking place. I was asked if I would deal with the sanitation issues so I tried several aspects of the toilets, several different designs, and in the end I simply went for the large pit with a big wooden board with holes over it. I had to supply all of the paper and everything like that, arrange to have the pits pumped out and it began to become extremely complicated. I began to wonder whether or not I’d bitten off more than I could chew with this. First of all, of course, I didn’t know how many people were going to attend – if it would be something like Woodstock with a 50,000 crowd limit but half a million people who appeared.

It’s a little-known fact that as part of my Degree in Environmental Technology, I have a Diploma in Environmental and Pollution Control so not only can I design a fantastic waste disposal site for you, I would be quite happy to design a sanitation system for a major festival. It’s clear though that I have my Woodstock Festival on the brain right now. I really ought to crack on and finish it instead of messing about so much.

And then I stepped back into that dream later. After we’d installed what we needed to do, a couple of other people and I, we went for a walk into town. We could see the crowds coming away from the festival behind us. They had obviously just installed their things. We thought that seeing as we were ahead of the queue coming up the hill, maybe we should go to the shops and buy some food because we had a suspicion that the food was not going to last anything like as long as the festival. We saw all kinds of things. We even saw them digging holes as if they were ready for graves. We entered a supermarket and began to look around and select things to put in a small basket. They had some of these iced buns with white icing crosses on them. They looked really nice so I said that I would have one. The girl with us put her hand inside and grabbed hold of one. She began to eat it. I thought “this is probably not the best advertisement for us that there could have been”. She was telling us that in the local paper that day there was a letter from a guy who had tried to come to the festival but couldn’t make it. He had written a huge, enormous letter of complaint to the shop that the shop had published in the newspaper.

One thing that you will find, if you listen to my radio programmes on Woodstock this coming August, is that food was a major issue at the festival. Many people gave no thought whatsoever to food, and the organisers had counted on 50,000 people, not 500,000 turning up.

The nurse didn’t have too much to say for himself this morning or, if he did, I paid no attention. And after he left, I made breakfast and carried on reading MY BOOK. We are, as I expected, still in the Tower of London and so far, there has been nothing controversial in what he has said. That is rather disappointing.

Back in here, there was plenty to do today. The first task was to finish off choosing the music for programme 260403. That took longer than it ought because I didn’t have half of what I needed and some of it took some finding.

While I was at it, I also took the opportunity to research for the programme for the following week, 260410. That should be an interesting programme and no mistake.

Once I’d assembled all of the music I went for a disgusting drink break and then my cleaner appeared to do her stuff. After I’d prepared for my shower and washed my clothes, she helped me into the bath to have the shower, and it was delicious.(the shower, I mean).

While I was under the shower the ‘phone rang. So after I was out and my cleaner had gone, I rang the number back.

It was the taxi company who had ‘phoned. Apparently my authorisation from the Social Security only lasts for one year and it had now expired. I needed some more paperwork from the hospital.

Not exactly sure of what I needed, I rang the hospital. It sounded so complicated to me that in the end I gave the hospital the taxi company’s ‘phone number and left them to fight it out between them.

Liz rang me after that and we had a Rosemaryesque chat of over an hour, split in two because the hospital ‘phoned me back midstream to tell me that they had sorted it out between them, the paperwork had been e-mailed and everything was to go ahead as normal. And so I could continue my discussion with Liz.

It’s been ages since we chatted but she’s been up to her eyes in grandchildren for the last while, what with one thing and another. We had a really good chat about lots of different things, which was nice.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that the other day I was having “another think” about my apartment renovation. Liz and Terry have an “in” on a certain Social Network group so between us we worked out an advertisement that we could publish on there about the work that needs doing. And not only is it now published, it’s also had some response.

It’s just a shame though that they don’t live in this area otherwise I would have had them come and do it in a heartbeat. We all worked so well together as a team and in that really hard winter of 2010-2011 when it was too cold to work in the Auvergne, we went up to Brussels to my centrally-heated apartment and blitzed it from top to toe in just six weeks.

Liz has really good taste too and that helped a lot, to add some nice little touches to the place. And between the two of them, they managed to keep my feet firmly anchored to the floor instead of soaring off on some flight of fancy. It would be worth any price whatever to have them here doing the work, even if I had to hire a holiday let for them for a month on top of whatever they would want to do the job. However, you can’t turn the clock back and once people have retired, they want to enjoy themselves.

Having sorted out everything else I went one better than David Crosby, probably because last night I wasn’t feeling up to par. It increases my paranoia like looking at my mirror and seeing a police car. But I’m not giving in an inch to fear because I promised myself this year. I feel like I owe it to someone.

Finally I could sit down and edit, remix, pair off and segue the music for programme 260403, miles behind time as usual, but ask me if I care..

Tea tonight was air-fried chips, vegan salad (with more of my delicious home-made vegan mayonnaise) and some of the vegan nuggets that I’d bought from Noz the other day, followed by chocolate cake and soya dessert.

In between preparing and eating the food I made myself a very small 200-gramme loaf. I’m out of bread at the moment so until I have the time to make something on Sunday afternoon, that will keep me going. With the new water gauge, the loaf turned out to be spot-on. That was a good purchase.

So now I’m off to bed ready for dialysis tomorrow afternoon (I don’t think). However, it’s the Welsh Cup Final between TNS and Connah’s Quay Nomads.

The Nomads are desperate to win as it’s their only avenue into Europe but they are currently managerless after a very poor season by their standards so we shall see. There were three clubs in the Welsh Premier League, The Nomads, Y Drenewydd and Aberystwyth, who lost several of their bigger names in the last close season and their recruitment was simply just not good enough. They have all paid the price for that.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about me being able to build a decent waste disposal site … "well, one of us has" – ed … I mentioned that to Liz
"You’ll need to go out on the street and collect some rubbish then" she said.
"I refuse" I replied.

-1

Sunday 13th April 2025 – A MANTELPIECE!

… "He means ‘Masterpiece’ " – ed …

Indeed I do. I’ve been a busy boy today, doing a pile of baking, and making use of my new scientific measuring gauge for the water. And everything that I cooked today turned out to be exactly as it is supposed to be – bread rising up like a lift, cakes actually looking like cakes and all of that kind of thing.

Probably, what contributed a lot to that was the fact that I’d had an early night. It was at about 23:05 when I’d finished everything that I would normally finish before going to bed, and then there was the dictating of the radio notes to do.

Even though I made yet another total hash of what I was supposed to be dictating, it was still all done by 23:40 and by 23:45 I was in bed. “Later than intended” I hear you say, but with a lie-in until 08:00, it can only be good news.

Mind you, what happened next does not need any explanation. It’s a Sunday after a Saturday afternoon dialysis session, isn’t it? And so by the time that the alarm went off, I’d been up and about for an hour and a half and was sitting at my desk working.

There had been the bathroom, of course, and there had been the medication. And next was the dictaphone. We were having a huge chat about adoption etc during the night. This conversation rolled on and on, and went on to the question of mutations and mutations of voice. There were other things taking place too. I know that on one occasion someone asked me a question and I answered “well, I’m not the busiest” or “it’s not the busiest, and it’s keeping me out of mischief”. However, I can’t remember what the question was now and that was disappointing.

Everything seemed to be in quite a turmoil during the evening. I have no idea what was going on there but it was certainly quite a mess.

And then I was in Wales somewhere. I had a lift with someone and they were driving me towards my destination. We went round a bend and there was this train, a tiny little narrow-gauge steam locomotive with a big parcels train behind it. It was just like that person had been talking about in a photograph. I said “you can drop me off here” because this was my destination. It was a narrow-gauge railway line and this was its terminus. They dropped me off and I wandered around the yard. I saw a locomotive with two carriages behind it. I thought “that must be my train to go”. I had to climb up onto the bank to climb into it. I became all dirty when I rubbed my shoulder against the boiler of the train. Then I had to find some treacle. In the end I found two tins of treacle but I was on the wrong side of the train. I had to throw these tins of treacle underneath the train and then walk round the front, hanging on to the front of the locomotive to make sure that I didn’t fall down the embankment. When I reached the other side, I heard a whistle, a steam whistle. I looked up and there was another train that I hadn’t seen, and a locomotive that was attached to three carriages. A double-decker bus just pulled up with a whole crowd of people on board. They were all heading towards that other train. I thought “maybe that’s my train” so I set out to try to run to catch it. Of course, I couldn’t run. I realised that I had no treacle, my backpack was open and everything was on the verge of falling out. I thought “I’m going to miss this train now and the next one is not for another several hours”. I was running and running and running towards this train. I couldn’t run and I was on my bad legs with no crutches. This was becoming a disaster

We’ve been here before, haven’t we? Yesterday in fact when we were trying to run in vain to catch a bus. Today, I’m trying to run to catch a train. I wonder what I’ll be trying to run to catch tomorrow? But the idea of it being a narrow-gauge steam locomotive is quite interesting. I’ve not had a run out on a narrow-gauge train for years, and certainly not with any tins of treacle. What did treacle have to do with it anyway?

While I was waiting for Isabelle I had a surf through the internet for the highlights of yesterday’s games in Wales. Colwyn Bay will be joining Llanelli in the Premier League next season after their win at Penrhyncoch. I also found the highlights of the game we watched yesterday BETWEEN Y DRENEWYDD AND ABERYSTWITH and Niall Flint in full flight down the centre.

Isabelle the Nurse had a lot to say for herself, mainly about dialysis and compression socks, as she dealt with my legs and then she wandered off, leaving me to deal with breakfast and to read MY BOOK.

A few days ago, I wrote about our author, Geo T Clark, not being able to make up his mind about the system of dating that he uses. Here’s a delightful paragraph on page 87 where he discusses the history of the castle at Hastings "Henry, the fifth earl, who died in the reign of Richard I., left an only daughter, Alice, who married Ralph de Essoudun, who in her right became Earl of Eu, and so died in 1211. Their son, William, elected to become a subject of France, and,29 Henry III., his possessions in England escheated to the Crown, and were granted to Prince Edward. As early as 1227 King Henry allowed to Robert de Aubeville 10 marcs, half his salary, as keeper of the castle. The college was retained by Henry in his own hands. In 5 Edward III., the dean and canons petitioned to have the castle wall restored, it having been injured by the sea. In 1372, the castle was granted to John of Gaunt,"

If he wants to continue to use both forms of date, then that’s fine. But how many times does he change from one format to the other in that one paragraph? He needs at least to stick to the same style in each paragraph.

He is also following the trend of many of our previous authors in contradicting himself, and this time, within the space of just a handful of paragraphs. At the bottom of page 89, when talking about Hawarden Castle (which, in a book entitled “Medieval Military Architecture in England”, is actually in Wales), he tells us that "At Hawarden, the course of action seems to have been different. Here are no traces of Norman work or of the Norman style, and though the keep is unusually substantial".

However, over the page, not even half-way down, he tells us that "The entrance is at the ground level on the north-east side, from the main ward. It is marked by a broad, flat buttress, rather Norman in character,"

And to show you just how times and appreciation have changed since he published his book in 1884, also on page 90 he tells us that "the modern brick and stone wall replacing the battlement is rugged and broken, but in parts about 12 feet high, and intended to give elevation to the keep. The building thus made extensively visible has become a sort of parish cynosure, and, however irregular its appearance, it would scarcely be in good taste to remove the addition."

Can you imagine that? Early medieval stonework disfigured by modern brickwork and it would “scarcely be in good taste” to remove it?

Back in here, we had Stranraer away at Stirling Albion, and I totally despair. Stranraer were miles on top of this game and at 1-0 up at half-time and well in control at the hour mark looking as if they could score another goal or two at any moment, they then go and hand the Binos not one, not two, but three of the easiest goals that they will ever score in their whole lives with a series of schoolboy errors that defy any kind of description from me. If you really want to see how bad it was, THEN IT’S ALL YOURS

My bread roll for lunch was absolutely wonderful, made with just the right amount of water. It could not have been better and the new cheese that my cleaner brought finished it off a treat.

Back in here after lunch I attacked the radio programmes for which I dictated the notes last night. And by the time that I was ready for tea I’d completed the final track for programme 260206 and assembled it all so that it’s one hour long. I just had to remove eight seconds of text.

And then I finished programme 260220 as much as I could – edited the notes for the ten tracks, assembled the two halves of the programme, chose the final track and wrote the notes ready for dictation next Saturday night.

If you are wondering where programme 260213 is, that’s a concert that I dealt with years and years ago.

Despite all of that, there was baking. A sunflower-seed loaf and a chocolate oil-cake. The loaf, like the bread roll, is also wonderful and the cake is excellent too. The oil in there is half neutral vegetable oil, half coconut oil, and there’s orange essence and desiccated coconut in there too. All of the baking is cooling off ready for cutting and storing tomorrow morning.

Tonight’s pizza was another one of the best that I have ever made, cooked just right. If I could make the pizza every week just as I did tonight, I would be really happy

But that’s not for now. I’m off to bed. I have dialysis tomorrow, worse luck, and I’ll probably be there for four hours.

But seeing as we have been talking about adoption … "well, one of us has" – ed … I remember a friend of mine being called for a discussion with his parents.
"Son we have to tell you?" said his father "did you know that you are adopted"
"Really?" said the boy. " Could I ever meet my birth parents?"
"We are your birth parents" replied his father. "Now go upstairs and pack. Your new family will be here to pick you up in ten minutes"

Wednesday 9th April 2025 – I HAVE MADE …

… an executive decision. And for the benefit of new readers, of which there are more than just a few these days, an executive decision is on that if it turns out to be the wrong decision, the person who made it is executed.

It’s amazing the thoughts that go through your head when you are lying there in bed at … gulp … 05:20 in the morning trying rather unsuccessfully to go back to sleep after another dramatic awakening, but there we are. I put the time to good use.

It wasn’t as if I’d been to bed early either. In principle I could have been in bed at a realistic time last night but as usual, just as I’m about to make up my mind to stagger off to bed after doing everything that I needed to do, a decent concert comes round on the playlist and so I find something to do as a good excuse for staying up to listen to it.

Eventually though, I go off to bed and go straight to sleep, only to awaken bolt-upright at 05:20 wondering why I’m still in bed when I was convinced that a couple of hours ago I’d arisen from the bed and gone into the kitchen.

So while I was pondering and musing, I was thinking. And one of the things about which I was thinking was that I’m never going to go back to sleep so I may as well raise myself from the bed and do some work.

Into the bathroom for a cursory wash today, after all, it is Wednesday and shower day, and then into the kitchen for the medication.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night, and to my surprise, despite the short night, I’d been out and about on a couple of occasions. I had to board a bus to go somewhere, and I was with a friend of mine. We climbed on board but the bus was crowded and there were people sitting on the floor. We found some space on one of the side seats over the rear wheel arch but there were some people sitting right in front of it on the floor so we had to manoeuvre our feet around. One of the people on the floor objected. I told them that my feet have to go somewhere but they carried on complaining so I told them that if they didn’t like it, they should have sat on the seat when it became vacant and then they could have put their feet on the floor but they were still extremely unhappy. In the end I couldn’t care less and began to take the mickey out of them for complaining.

Back on the bus again after last night? That seems to be becoming something of a regular occasion. I could understand the situation if I were driving it but as a passenger, that’s hardly likely. When I was fit I would walk miles and miles without even thinking about it. I remember in Brussels a few years ago when I was going to the hospital at Leuven and went for a little walk around one afternoon – and covered nineteen kilometres. And how far did I walk with Hannah on that Sunday when I was showing her around Brussels?

Later on I was driving taxis again. I was parked on the rank and was ready to pull away when another vehicle came along, drove past and reversed into a space at the side of me, another taxi, a white Hillman Hunter. As he pulled into this space he hit the front of my car. I climbed out to see what the damage was but there wasn’t a great deal. The guy wasn’t really all that apologetic. He asked me if I’d seen the guitar, some package, a similar thing. I said that someone had left a package yesterday and I’d put it in the boot of his car for him. He didn’t remember seeing it when he looked so I told him that I was certain that it was there and if it’s not there I probably still have it at home and I’ll sort it out for later.

Yes, “again”. That’s becoming far too much of a regular dream too, or is it a nightmare? If I had my time back and had to go through it again, I would have changed a great deal of what happened. I made some very poor decisions back then but hindsight is wonderful, isn’t it? And as was once said in the USA "it’s hard to remember, when you are up to your neck in alligators, that all you are trying to do is to drain the swamp".

Having put that out of the way I had plenty of work to do and I cracked on. I was hard at it when Isabelle the Nurse arrived to sort me out. We talked about my compression socks and she’ll remind the secretary of my doctor.

After she left I made breakfast. The loaf that I made before going to bed is absolutely excellent and made some lovely toast. I munched away on it while I was reading MY NEW BOOK.

This book has now turned into a whistle-stop tour of castles. We’ve probably been to six or seven this morning, just a quick walk around and then teleported ourselves on to the next one, in alphabetical order. With 669 pages at which to go, we are going to be covering a lot of ground at this rate.

Back in here, I began to concentrate.

My decision – about which I talked earlier – is that no matter what evolves downstairs, I’m going to rip out the kitchen and throw it away. I’ve been planning my own kitchen thanks to that 3D app about which I spoke the other day, and I’ve made myself a lovely kitchen and so I’m going to go with it and make my new apartment look really nice and practical.

Electrical appliances are next so I spent a couple of hours looking at fridge-freezers and built-in ovens and microwaves. In the end, my brain had turned to porridge so I abandoned the process. There were thousands and thousands and I had no idea what I wanted or what I needed.

It was at that point I had a good idea, and I contacted Rosemary. Just a short chat this morning – a mere fifty-seven yea … errr … minutes. But knowing how much care and effort Rosemary puts into checking things out, I set her a task TO PROVE THAT SHE IS WORTHY.

What I did was to tell her what I thought would be my requirements and what my budget is. And if she had my budget and my requirements, what would she buy?

She immediately made a couple of suggestions that had not occurred to me, and then she had to go to sort out a taxi to take her to hospital as she’s having some surgery in a couple of weeks. But she’s on the case which is just as well because I didn’t know who else to ask and I couldn’t sort it out on my own.

My faithful cleaner made a suggestion too. She reckons that this organisation with which I’m registered – the one that bends over backwards to help handicapped and disabled people stay in their own homes – might be able to offer some sort of assistance with the move and the fitting out of the apartment to suit my needs and requirements.

Having given the matter some thought, I wrote to them to see what they would have to say.

Then I had to send off the receipt for the new telephone and return one of the products that I’d bought from Amazon because they had sent the wrong one.

When my cleaner arrived this afternoon she helped me into the shower and I had a really good scrub up that made me feel so much better and then after a disgusting drink break, I cracked on with the radio programme.

But the time that I stopped for tea, I’d chosen all of the music (which wasn’t easy, as I said yesterday), edited and remixed it, paired and segued it and written all of the notes. That was a really busy spell of work and I was exhausted.

Tea tonight was a leftover curry. But there was so much left over that I added a couple of small potatoes, a jar of that korma mix that I bought ages ago, and made enough for three meals and the one that I ate tonight was delicious.

The naan was perfection too – definitely one of my better ones.

So it’s bedtime now, if the stabbing pain that has started up in my right heel will let me. Despite the late night and early start, I only had one or two wobbles during the day but kept on going until the end. But dialysis tomorrow of course, so we shall see.

Seeing as we have been talking about buses and Crosville the other day … "well, one of us has" – ed … I remember back in Crewe in the early 1970s and the Lodekkas were beginning to be phased out. The Bristol VRTs arrived and were equipped for one-man operation.
During the first week there were several accidents and on one occasion I was there when the police were interviewing the driver
"So can you tell us what happened?" the police asked
"I’ve no idea" replied the driver. "I was upstairs collecting the fares when the accident happened".

Tuesday 8th April 2025 – I WAS ON THE PO …

… dium again today in the quiz in the Welsh class. I really don’t know what’s happening to me these days but I seem to be getting to grips much better with my Welsh than I was a year or two ago. Let’s hope that I can keep it up for the rest of the course. We’re so far behind on this one (Unit 11 out of 25) that I reckon that we’ll have another two years to do instead of the one that was programmed for the final course.

Perhaps my improvement was due to the better night that I had last night. I finished my notes, my statistics and my backing-up fairly early and in principle I could have been in bed by 23:00 but I can always find other things to distract me when I’m supposed to be doing something important, and it was almost midnight when I finally made it into bed.

As for the night itself, I remember nothing whatsoever. I must have been dead to the World and slept all the way through until the morning.

When I awoke it was still fairly dark so I was wondering what time it might be. I was giving the idea of looking at the time some serious thought when BILLY COTTON’S RAUCOUS RATTLE rent the heavens asunder. And so it was probably about 06:55 when I opened my eyes.

It was a struggle to my feet but I staggered off into the bathroom to sort myself out and then went into the kitchen for the medication.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. We were in a class last night working on some kind of project. It was something of a mixture between a maths class, a language class and a logic class. We were going through a text, I suppose, and then we were moved into small groups and we had to discuss certain elements of what we’d been doing. One of these pieces was so complicated with these enormous words in it that it took absolutely ages for us to read it. It was very difficult to understand. Trying to make any headway on this project with this piece of work was extremely complicated. I think that everyone was in despair by the end of it. With five minutes to go before the end of the lesson the teacher said that we would concentrate now on doing something else. The first thing that she did was to ask us the answers to a couple of questions that she’d set before we’d been moved into groups. Of course, at that moment I couldn’t find my papers where I’d written the answers. I had a feeling that this particular lesson had been a total disaster today.

We’ve all had disasters like that in the past – missing out on something really important that has completely derailed a whole series of studies and left us stranded halfway back down the course. I’ve still not really recovered from missing all those weeks of my Welsh course in the autumn of 2022 when I spent two months in hospital in Belgium I used to try to make up for everything by going on a Summer School but dialysis has rendered that almost impossible now.

Isabelle the Nurse put her sooty foot in the door this morning. She’s started her week’s activity today. We talked about having some new compression socks, and it appears that her oppo has overlooked to tell her about it so we started the discussion again and she’ll see my doctor’s secretary to ask for a prescription.

After she left I made breakfast and read more of MY NEW BOOK. Our stay at Durham was very brief indeed and after passing by the castles at Eaton Socon and Ewyas Harold, we’ve now arrived at Exeter Castle.

At the moment, he’s setting the scene and I imagine that in a few days we’ll have the guided tour. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I’m disappointed by the fact that although he goes to great lengths to tell us what there is or was, he does not mention why they did it. I’d love to know more about the military principles that went into the design and building of all of this.

Another thing that I find confusing is his method of dating. A couple of weeks ago we mentioned the change of calendar from the Julian to the Gregorian in 1752, the loss of 11 days, and the change of the New Year from 25th March to 1st January. Prior to that, it was the custom to date events by what they called the “regnal year” – such as “in the third year of the reign of Richard III” or “in the fifteenth year of the reign of Elizabeth”. However, after 1752 it became the practice to date events by the actual calendar year, such as 2025 or 1939 or 1900 etc.

Not our author though. He’s insisting on using the regnal year to date almost everything, even though it had been out of fashion for 150 years when he started to write his book, and I’m having to exert myself in order to carry out some rapid mental calculation as I carry on reading.

Back in here I checked over my Welsh homework and sent it off for marking, and then set down to revise and prepare for my lesson later this morning.

By the time that the lesson began I’d prepared almost the entire unit which is good news because the more I do today, the less I have to do next week. But it was just as well that I did because it was quite a short unit and we’ve almost finished it.

We had a quiz about the things that we should have learned last week and, in contrast to how my dream went, I finished on the podium. At one stage I had a run of eight questions correct, and I’ve never done that before in any Welsh class.

And my Welsh joke – it went down really well and if the tutor laughed out loud at it, then it must have been good.

After the disgusting drink break (we actually had the prescribed two today) I had a few things to do and then I began to choose the music for the next radio programme.

The very next one will be very easy because it relates to a concert. I already have all of the music and I wrote the text years ago when Liz and I were running “Radio Anglais” in the Auvergne, so I concentrated on the one after.

This one is another one that will be complicated because there are so many anniversaries that took place on that date. It will take careful selection to sort it out.

My cleaner stuck her head in the apartment too. She’d been to LeClerc and had found some slices of vegan cheese for me, so cheese on toast will be back on the menu for lunch on Sunday.

There should also have been a lengthy chat with my friend in the UK who is handling this ongoing project but he was unavoidably detained elsewhere with another matter so we agreed to continue our chat tomorrow.

Tea tonight was as usual a delicious taco roll with rice and veg followed by orange, ginger and coconut cake with soya dessert. Plenty of stuffing left too so seeing as how things are unfolding here, I might lengthen it and divide it into two so that there will be one for next week

But I’ll worry about that tomorrow because I have bread to make. I forgot that this afternoon so I’ll rustle up a 300-gram loaf in the air fryer and then go to bed.

But before I go, I bet that you are all wondering about the Welsh joke that I told in class.
It’s not easy to say it in English because with Welsh being an ancient language, it follows really ancient grammar rules that were in place long before the Romanisation of modern Western European languages. One of those rules is that where a noun is “feminine”, the first letter of the adjective used to describe it may mutate
So – "Mae dau o blant yn cerdded yn y goedwig"
Two children are walking in the wood
"Mae hogan yn dweud ‘edrych ar yr aderyn fawr yn y goeden’ "
The girl says ‘look at the big bird in the tree’
"Mae hogyn yn dweud ‘Aderyn MAWR – aderyn yn wrywaidd’ "
The boy said ‘Big bird – bird is masculine’ (so the adjective ‘big’ doesn’t mutate)
"Mae hogan yn dweud ‘mae gen ti lygaid rhagorol’ "
The girl says ‘you have really good eyes’

Sunday 6th April 2025 – WHEN THE ALARM …

… went off this morning, I was sitting at the table in the dining area having my medication. It’s another Sunday morning after a Saturday dialysis, and how many times now has this happened.

Even though the nursing staff assure me, I still remain convinced that they are adding something into the mix every Saturday. It can’t be a coincidence.

Maybe though, it just might be because I had an early night last night. While 23:30 may not sound as if it’s particularly early, there’s a lie-in in the morning until 08:00 and so it means (in theory, that is) that I can have a much longer sleep than usual.

After tea last night, I cracked on with the notes, the statistics and the backing-up and then I had some dictating to do – the notes for the extra track for broadcast 260130 and the notes for the major part of broadcast 260206 (I really am that far ahead), all of which I had written last week.

The dictation was pretty awful. I couldn’t concentrate and kept on muffing my lines and with all of the errors and going back to re-dictate, the timestamp on broadcast 260206 showed that it was just about the longest that I’d ever dictated. There will be some serious editing to do here when I awaken.

That was the cue to wander off to bed and despite a somewhat turbulent night, there I stayed, fast asleep until about 07:10.

For the last couple of nights I’d awoken early but had gone back to sleep so I lay there for a while hoping that jamais deux sans trois as they say around here. However, after fifteen minutes of waiting I gave it up as a bad job, arose from the Dead and went about my business.

Back in here I listened to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. A man and a woman were up to all kinds of criminal activities. They had a really good racket or two going but the relationship began to sour between the two of them and they both ended up wishing that the other one would clear off. They began to feel that the forces of law and order were beginning to press on them so the guy announced that he was thinking of leaving and going into hiding or emigrating or something like that and how he was rather nervous of being caught. That brought a little smile to the woman’s face and she made him hold that pose that he had while she took a photograph of him for his next passport. In the meantime she was talking about leaving. She’d looked at the photo of him that she had just taken and said that she could really do with a photo like that of herself so that she could have a false passport and move. The guy had noticed that the quality of the photograph was not exactly correct so instead of saying anything he encouraged his wife or partner to have a photograph taken in exactly the same fashion because if that went into a passport presented at the frontier it’s almost inevitable that a border guard would recognise it as false and arrest her, leaving him on his own with all the loot

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that we had a similar criminal couple a few days ago … "Monday, in fact" – ed …. I had no idea of the significance then and I’ve even less of an idea about it now. As for false passports though, there’s an interesting story about that but the World is not yet ready to hear it.

The nurse was again in something of a rush this morning and didn’t stop around for long, so I could make my breakfast and read some more of MY NEW BOOK.

We’ve moved on from Dover Castle this morning and are now at Dursley Castle in Somerset. A quick glance at the first couple of paragraphs tells me that we are going to have another guided tour in the fashion of the National Trust, who have owned the property since the 1950s, rather than the engineering masterclass for which I was hoping

Once breakfast was over I made the dough for a bread roll for lunch and came back in here to watch the football.

Stranraer were in Edinburgh for a match against Spartans and once again, they fell apart in defence, standing around paralysed as the opposition ran rings around them. The first rule of defence always has been and always will be “if in doubt, kick it out”, not to stand around waiting for your team-mate to do something

For most of the rest of the day I’ve been editing the radio notes that I dictated, and I was right about them being a complete mess. However, by the time that I’d finished editing they came out quite well. So broadcast 260130 is now completely finished. I assembled 260206 as much as I could, chose the eleventh track and wrote the notes ready for dictation next Saturday night.

In the meantime, the bread roll was excellent and I had a lovely cheese on toast for lunch, thanks to the air fryer. And later on, there was the disgusting drink break.

My friend in the UK who is in charge of my project contacted me today and we had a chat. Apparently Phase One is now complete. He went to check on it at the end of last week and he says that he’s impressed with it. Seeing how much it cost, it should be too, but I’ll have to wait until Tuesday to see the photos that he took.

All we need to do after that is to do Phase Two, and then Phase Three.

Rosemary rang me for a chat too. Just a short one, a mere fifty-nine minutes. We’re obviously losing our touch these days.

There was a third discussion too, with my friends on the Wirral. It’s been ages since we last chatted and it was nice to have their news, even if it was only a short chat.

It was pizza for tea tonight, another candidate for the best pizza ever. At the moment my bread-making seems to be doing OK, and I hope that it can continue like that. I’ve ordered a new calibrated water-measurer for my bread-making and when it arrives, I’ll be able to check to see if it really was the previous gauge that was incorrect that was causing all of my problems.

Something else that I’ve been doing is looking at kitchens. The more I think about it, the more I don’t like the kitchen in this new apartment and I think that maybe I ought to treat myself for once to a kitchen that I like. That would actually be a unique experience for me – I’ve never had a kitchen of my own choosing. Even the kitchen in “Expo” In Brussels, new as it might have been … "actually it was the ex-display kitchen from the Belgian Ideal Homes Exhibition" – ed … was chosen by Marianne. I didn’t like its colour but there was no doubting its quality.

However I shall worry about that tomorrow. Right now I’m off to bed ready to finish my Welsh homework tomorrow and then go to dialysis where I hope that I only stay for three and a half hours.

But while we’re on the subject of passports … "well, one of us is" – ed … it reminds me of the Russian who applied for a passport to visit France.
"Why do you want to go there?" asked the passport clerk. "Aren’t you happy here?"
"Oh, I can’t complain" replied the applicant
"So why do you want to go to France then?"
"Because In France I can complain, and I can go out onto the streets and riot if I like as well."

Sunday 23rd March 2025 – MY ORANGE, GINGER …

… and coconut cake is absolutely delicious, if it tastes anything like the mix that I sampled and the crumbs that broke off when I brought it out of the oven. The proof of the pudding is indeed in the eating and I’ll have to wait a couple of days before I start on it, so I’ll tell you more in a few days time.

So last night, after I’d finished my notes, I dictated the radio notes that I’d written during the week and then went to bed. It was only a few minutes after midnight too so with my Sunday morning lie-in until 08:00, I was looking forward to a decent sleep.

To be on the safe side, I’d found an old fleece jumper in the chest of drawers so in desperation I put that on before going to bed. And while I may well have awoken in the middle of the night for a variety of reasons, cold wasn’t one of them. For once just recently, I was quite comfortable in that respect.

When the alarm went off at 08:00 I was away with the fairies, although not in any fashion that might incite comment from the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine. However, wherever I was and whatever I was doing evaporated completely from my mind and that was that.

In the bathroom I had a good scrub up and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out what I’d been doing during the night.

Not that I advanced very far because the nurse came round to sort me out. He had a lot to say for himself this morning but nothing of any importance, so I could crack on and make my breakfast, including some home-made orange juice and home-made apple and kiwi purée with home-made bread out of the toaster and porridge.

I also read some more of MY NEW BOOK and, unfortunately, Sir Norman Lockyer is tying himself up in knots.

Having criticised the builders of these stone monuments on the grounds of their uncivilised nature, to day he tells us that, according to Caesar "that in the schools of the Druids the subjects taught included the movements of the stars, the size of the earth, and the nature of things … Studies of such a character seem quite consistent with, and to demand, a long antecedent period of civilisation.".

He also talks about the stories that the Greek, Hecataeus, told of the Hyperboreans – "so called because they live beyond the point from which the North wind blows". That’s interesting to me at least because the early Polar explorers were convinced, for some reason, that there was a warm sea beyond the ice belt, a delusion that led so many of them to their deaths. I always wondered why it would be possible to believe such a thing but if the myth of the Hyperboreans really was believed, (and Hecataeus was convinced they and the Greeks had been in contact and that the Hyperboreans were "in general very friendly to the Greeks.’") that would explain everything.

There was a bap to make this morning so that I could have my cheese on toast for lunch. I made the mix rather wetter than in the past to see what happens and it was rather difficult to knead. But once it was made I left it to fester for a while.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what had happened during the night. There was something about my youngest sister last night – I can’t remember exactly what it was but I wanted her to do something or to go somewhere and pick up something where I was. It took her a while to turn up and I can’t really remember any more about it because it’s another one of these dreams that evaporated away.

Just as well really. I don’t want my family loitering around my bedside during the night, that’s for sure

Later on, I started work being an Accompanier … "you mean ‘escort’" – ed … on a school bus in New Brunswick. I had to go to the local small town pick-up point to run a check on all of the pupils there. There were probably fifty children waiting there. Each of them wore a badge with their names, and several of them had changed their names and put “Bigfoot” there instead. After I’d reviewed all of the names I asked “how many Bigfoots have we here?”. Someone replied “well, there are five “. I replied “well, it’s New Brunswick, isn’t it? That will explain it”. Everyone burst out laughing.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … you could put everyone in New Brunswick, and in particular, Carleton County where my place is, into Tennessee and no-one, neither the New Brunswickers or the Tennesseans, would notice the difference. Much as I love that area of North America, western New Brunswick, Maine, Vermont, it is like going back seventy years in time. That’s probably why I like it.

Next, there was football. And I despair of Stranraer FC. Having played like a championship side last week and blown away so convincingly the leaders of their division, and away from home too, this weekend they were at home to the bottom club, played one of the worst games that I have ever seen them play, and lost 1-0.

These Jekyll-and-Hyde performances have to stop if they want to be serious about keeping their place in the league. Last season they had a lucky escape from demotion out of the League, and they haven’t really improved all that much.

And while we’re on the subject of demotion and relegation … "well, one of us is" – ed … the weekend’s results in the JD Cymru League mean that Aberstwyth are relegated, as predicted at the start of the season, and Y Fflint just need one point to be assured of staying up – and with three matches to go.

With Aberystwyth’s relegation, it means that Y Drenewydd are the only club to have been in the league for every year that it has been in existence, and they are looking by no means safe quite yet.

Next task was the radio. Last night I’d dictated the notes for eleventh track of a radio programme and so I edited them and joined everything up together. The whole lot over-ran by seven seconds but I always dictate stuff that can be edited out without disrupting the sense and the rhythm and that was soon accomplished.

Lunch was next and I do have to say that my bap was absolute perfection today, the best that I have ever made. I’m certain that my water measurer is inaccurate and that’s been the root of all of my problems. The air fryer baked it really well and made some lovely cheese on toast, even if it is vegan cheese.

This afternoon I attacked the next programme. Last night I’d dictated the notes for ten tracks and so I edited it all down and assembled it. Later on, I chose the eleventh track and wrote the notes for it ready for dictation next weekend.

After the disgusting drink break I set about making my cake.

It’s a standard oil cake of

one cup of flour
one cup of sugar
half a cup of hot water
half a cup of oil (I use 50% vegetable oil and 50% coconut oil)
half a teaspoon of baking powder
half a teaspoon of salt
one teaspoon of vanilla essence

to that I added

a couple of inches of ginger paste (Heaven only knows where my fresh ginger has gone
a teaspoon of ground ginger
a teaspoon of mixed spice
some desiccated coconut
an extra half-cup of flour
all of the orange pulp from which I had extracted the juice yesterday
some whizzed-up almonds and Brazil nuts

All of the dry stuff was whizzed up in my whizzer, then all of the wet stuff was added in and whizzed into the mix, and it was all then poured out into a lined cake tray and baked for 35 minutes at 180°C

While that was going on, the pizza dough that i’d taken from the freezer was defrosting. I made the pizza while the cake was baking and then popped it into the hot oven when the cake was done.

The pizza was perfection too, especially as I had remembered everything this week, for a change.

Now I’m off to bed ready for dialysis tomorrow, I don’t think

But while we are talking about Bigfoot "well, one of us is" one of my friends in Crewe contacted me the other day and told me that there was a big, hairy monster running around Crewe scaring everyone.
"Crewe’s equivalent of Bigfoot, I suppose?" I asked
"Very probably" he replied "but here, he’s called ‘Big Thirty point Four-Eight Centimetres’"

EPIC HALL

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

Tag Archives: home made bread

Sunday 6th July 2025 – WHEN THE ALARM …

Friday 20th June 2025 – WE NOW HAVE …

Friday 13th June 2025 – IT HAS BEEN …

Sunday 8th June 2025 – THIS LITTLE PROJECT …

Sunday 1st June 2025 – JUST FOR A CHANGE …

Friday 23rd May 2025 – I’VE HAD ANOTHER …

Sunday 18th May 2025 – REGULAR READERS OF …

Sunday 11th May 2025 – WHAT A GAME …

Sunday 4th May 2025 – HAPPY STAR WARS DAY

Friday 2nd May 2025 – AS I HAVE SAID …

Sunday 13th April 2025 – A MANTELPIECE!

Wednesday 9th April 2025 – I HAVE MADE …

Tuesday 8th April 2025 – I WAS ON THE PO …

Sunday 6th April 2025 – WHEN THE ALARM …

Sunday 23rd March 2025 – MY ORANGE, GINGER …

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