Tag Archives: naan

Wednesday 11th September 2024 – I HAD ANOTHER …

… late night last night

One of my groundhoppers was out and about at Linlithgow watching Linlithgow Rose take on East Stirlingshire in the Scottish Lowland (Tier 5) League so I stayed up to watch the action.

Nicely poised after an hour at 1-1, East Stirlingshire threw everything, including the kitchen sink, at Linlithgow in the final 30 minutes in an attempt to snatch the victory.

And so you might expect, in probably their only attack in that period, Linlithgow roared off down the other end of the field and scored an unlikely goal to win the game.

Why this game is important will be revealed in due course

Anyway once it finished I did what I needed to do and crawled off, later than intended, much later in fact, to bed.

At some point during the night I awoke but I can’t remember all that much about it. I must have gone back to sleep quite quickly.

When the alarm went off at 07:00 I was at another football match in Central Scotland. It was just getting under way and I don’t think that the teams had been presented yet to the public. I was there ready to watch it and that’s all that I remember. I was interrupted when the alarm went off

And you’ll find out why I said “another” in due course.

But anyway I headed off to the bathroom to sort myself out for the day, not forgetting to make use of one of the little pots that the nurse had left me

Back in here afterwards I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And here we go. We had another one … "another one?" – ed … of these corners that was taken. It was at a football ground in Stirlingshire, the home of an amateur league side, quite well-appointed for what it did. They were apparently – Arbroath were visiting. They tried their luck against Arbroath but the ball went into the cucumber display and stuck here so they went back from Inverness, they’d bought one of the worst flights that they’d had and the one to Malta wasn’t any better. They were all ready for a brand-new challenge after this and see where this would take them.

It seems that I can talk nonsense without really trying, but regular readers of this rubbish will recall that already. Although the ball going into the cucumber display reminds me of a match at St Gervais a good few years ago when a sliced clearance out of defence went straight through the open hatch of the pie hut scattering just about everyone and everything in the immediate vicinity.

I dreamed that I already had the report of a dream laid out i front of me. It went something like “it was a game of pêl-droed yn erbyn …” and I listed two clubs with their names in Welsh and carried on talking about the game. Here I am, doing it in Welsh again. I wish that I could remember what it was all about then.

Yes 05:30 and we’ve had another phantom alarm. I was in the Scottish Highlands watching two games of football. One of them was a female match. There was a goalkeeper whom I know really well but I can’t think of her name. There was a centre-half playing. The two of them had recently formed some kind of couple which had raised a few eyebrows in professional sport but that’s how things have involved in the game of pêl-droed. I can’t remember any more of the stuff like this except that a lot of this dream was actually in Welsh yet again

So there you go – games of football in Central Scotland, dreaming in Welsh – you can tell what’s on my mind these days. But why doesn’t it work when I have Zero, Castor and TOTGA on my mind for as long as this?

The nurse came around to take my blood sample, the other sample and to deal with my puttees. She is getting to be very good at blood samples, doing it these days without a hitch.

But the list of instructions that she gave me to carry out tomorrow, and the list of things that I have to tell my cleaner, it’s unbelievable.

And after making all the necessary arrangements so that I might try my best to remember it, I needn’t have bothered because the two met each other in town and the nurse told the cleaner directly.

But the upshot of this is that it’s “all systems go” for the dialysis tomorrow.

After the nurse left I made breakfast and while I was eating I carried on reading my ROMANS IN BRITAIN book.

Today we were discussing the Roman fort that guarded the crossing of the Conwy River at Caerhun. I did some reading of my own and found the map reference – 53°12’58″N 3°50’02″W

And if I were to tell you that a typical Roman fort of this type would be either square or rectangular with rounded corners, then copy the map reference into “Google Maps”, click on the aerial photography view rather than the map view, and if you’ve zoomed in enough, what do you see?

If you look slightly above and to the right, you’ll see a strip of a different vegetation type going down into the river with some corresponding traces in the water near the opposite bank. What’s the betting that that’s what’s left of the Roman cobbles that made the ford?

Back in here I had a pleasant couple of hours finishing off the paperwork and when the cleaner came I was in the process of emptying the waste paper into the bin. You’d be amazed at how much I’d collected

But once that was gone, I made a start on the next radio programme and in an uncharacteristic burst of speed, finished everything except the dictation and the final piece of music.

At some point too I rather regrettably passed off into the wilderness. While I was asleep I dreamed that my brother was accompanying me as I reflected on a dream that I’d had, and I was waiting there for him to began talking again so that he’d awaken me.

Just recently I seem to have been doing that a lot, dreaming about the dreams that I’ve had.

Tea tonight was one of the best vegan curries and naan breads that I have ever had. And it’s just as well because my appointment with destiny is tomorrow.

As I said to my faithful cleaner, I’m not going to worry about anything. I’m just going to be swept along with the flow and go wherever the currents take me.

So where will it all end? My hero the Irish politician Boyle Roche summed it up when he said "I concluded from the beginning that this would be the end; and I am right, for it is not half over yet"

But the subject of “ends” reminds me of the two guys arguing in the pub.
"Are you the front end of an ass?"
"No I am not"
"So are you the rear end of an ass?"
"No I am not"
"So then you must be no end of an ass"

Wednesday 4th September 2024 – THERE HAVE BEEN …

… raised voices in this apartment today. And how!

The tension between the nurse and me has been simmering away for a short while now, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, and today it finally overflowed.

And it was going to be such a good day too. I was actually in bed before 23:00, for once in my life, and as seems to be the case these days, I fell asleep quite quickly.

And there I lay, flat out until about 06:15 too – one of the best sleeps that I have had just recently too. Over 7 hours-worth of uninterrupted sleep is a luxury these days.

When the alarm went off at 07:00 I was fast asleep, but I soon hauled myself out of bed and went off for a good wash and scrub up ready for my trip out.

Yesterday I’d told the nurse that I was going out at 08:15 and so after much moaning and complaining he’d agreed to be here at 08:05 at the latest. He’d told me that at 08:00 I had to be sitting in the chair in the kitchen where he does his stuff.

So there I was at 08:00, sitting in the chair, and at 08:15 with him still not having turned up, the taxi came and we set off for Avranches.

We were some way down the road near the Granville ring road when the phone rang. It was 08:30. “Where are you?” asked a voice which I recognised.

“Where am I? Halfway towards Avranches. It’s now 08:30, not 08:05”. I replied

“OK. Call me when you’re back”.

We reached Avranches and the clinic at 08:55 for my 09:00 appointment – the first one in. And so it was logical I suppose that I wasn’t seen until 09:30.

Emilie the Cute Consultant wasn’t there which was a shame and I had to see the nurse. She asked me all kinds of probing questions although with no doctor or consultant there and no news about a follow-up, I couldn’t see the point.

And it looks as if this might be escalating. Now that they’ve talked the plaster off my arm so that my port is there in view in glorious technicolour if I choose to look at it (which I haven’t done as yet) they now want me to run an antiseptic cream on it and wrap it in clingfilm before I come for dialysis.

So that tells me two things. Firstly, that I have to come for dialysis and secondly, I am going to become more and more involved in the mechanics of this procedure.

In fact, she was there pushing a few boundaries, telling me a little bit more and a little bit more of things that I really don’t want to know.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … when this process starts we shall have the panic attack to end all panic attacks. I am living my worst nightmare with all of these tubes and pipes. I’m really sure that many people, people who have never been through any of this, just can’t understand what I’m feeling.

While I was there she weighed me, and my weight is stable, although it’s 7kg too much and even 12kg more than I used to like it. She said that my blood is stable too, so I told her that I would be much happier if the Creatinine was stable at 270 where it used to be instead of this 450.

With running late, everything else was running late. The taxi had arrived at 10:00 for me but I was nowhere near ready so the driver had gone off to pick up another passenger and then come back for me, and we reached the door of the building at the same time.

Back here at the apartment, these last two days have seen a stunning development – I’ve managed to climb back up the stairs all on my own, the first time since February.

It’s not very aesthetic, I have to say. I have to Put my right hand behind my left knee, raise my left foot onto the step and then push up my right side with the aid of my crutches.

God knows what anyone else might think if they were to see me, but twice now I’ve tried it, and twice now it has worked. If I carry on like this, Friday morning shopping might be back on the agenda.

This is the first time in quite some time that I can say that there has been an underlying improvement.

Back here I put on the coffee, put the porridge in the microwave and the toast in the toaster when the phone rang

“Where are you? asked a voice which I recognised.

‘I’ve just got back” I replied

“I told you to ring me when you came back”.

“Did you not hear the word ‘just’?” I asked

“I’ll be right round” so I switched off the breakfast to wait for his imminent arrival.

25 minutes later he finally turned up. By now my porridge was cold, my coffee was cold and my toast was soggy. And so I exploded.

And apparently it was all my fault for not being up earlier in plenty of time to have my breakfast earlier. And so that was that and the atmosphere became extremely unpleasant.

After he’d cleared off I could finally rescue the ruins of my breakfast. However I was in no mood to read my book. In any case the steam was obscuring my vision and my breath would have melted the computer screen.

Our Welsh Summer School cracked on today and I’m impressed about how much I know or have remembered. I wish that it was like this all the time. We had some interesting chats too which was nice

After the lesson was over I listened to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. Unfortunately neither Zero nor Castor nor TOTGA came to visit me, which was a disappointment after the other night. I was back at Shavington, Vine Tree Avenue, and we had a couple of guys, friends of my father’s, around. I’d been asked to try to collect worms for some project or other that was going on so I was collecting what I could find and dropping them down a tube, but I wasn’t doing very well. One of my father’s friends was talking to me about it. In the meantime someone else turned up at the house and asked my father if he had any leaf mould to spare. On the back lawn were several enormous piles of rotting leaves so this guy and I were joking about my father sucking his teeth and saying to this guy that he hadn’t any, and how difficult it was to get hold of. As it happened my father turned him away anyway and went back to weeding his garden but it was a very lethargic, disinterested weeding so we were wondering what was going through his head at the time

And my father weeding? If we had a nice garden (which we didn’t) when we were kids it would have been due to my mother. She was the only one who ever voluntarily did any weeding. We as kids formed a reluctant press-gang but you wouldn’t have found my father anywhere at all near a herbaceous border. But after Zero the other night, it’s my family again and isn’t that awful?

A little later I’d gone to a football ground. There, I’d been involved in helping tidy up and was collecting things for the shower room. I thought that I’d collected quite a few but people kept on pointing out things that I’d missed that I’d have to pick up and keep until I could get into the showers. They were discussing the games taking place this weekend, thinking that maybe Celtic would win because all the players will want to go out there and impress their new manager. Someone came round with a plate of sandwiches. One or two of the players helped themselves. I thought that that was really not a good idea because they’d be starting a game in a few minutes and the last thing that they’ll want to do is to have to run around with a full stomach like that. They’ll end up with stitch or cramp or something

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that back a long time ago I used to travel with and occasionally run (or walk, in my case) the line for Pionsat’s 3rd XI and despite (or maybe because of) my coaching they were always near the bottom of the lowest division in Puy-de-Dome football. One day they arrived at the wrong time at an away ground and had a two-hour wait so they all went out for kebabs. And knowing all about running around on a full stomach and what it can produce, I feared the worst. And so they went out and won decisively 5-2 and I shut up after that.

While we’re talking about football, we had football later. TNS playing Aberystwyth in one of the catch-up games after several of their matches have been postponed due to TNS’ European involvement.

TNS fielded a weakened team that included Doris the tea lady, Stan the car-park attendant and Tiddles the stadium cat so Aberystwyth packed their defence and refused to advance over the half-way line. If they were ever going to do any good against TNS today would be the day.

It was ugly to watch but it was effective up to a point. It took TNS a good while to break them down and the score of 2-0 to TNS can be seen as a triumph for Aberystwyth.

That’s because it’s going to be packed down at the bottom as Llansawel, Y Fflint and Aberystwyth are miles off the pace. LLansawel are down already after only 5 matches but the other two will slug it out and take the odd point here and there when they can. Goal difference might be crucial so a goal difference of minus 2 for Aberystwyth is as good as 3 points when compared with Y Fflint’s goal difference against TNS of -3 (a 4-1 defeat the other week).

Tea was a delicious leftover curry with naan, and so right now I’m off to bed ready to fight the good fight with the nurse tomorrow as I don’t think that we’ve heard the last of this.

Can you not just picture the scene? You can imagine him roaring "we itinerant nurses are the cream of the crop"
"Yes" I’ll reply. "And it looks as if I have the clot"

Wednesday 28th August 2024 – MY GINGER CAKE …

… is really delicious. Not quite fiery enough, I reckon, but that kind of thing comes with practice. The consistency was exactly what it should have been, except that it was cooked more at the top than underneath.

Usually that would mean lowering it in the oven, but that won’t work as it’s already on the lowest possible shelf, so it’s going to be to turn down the oven and prolong the cooking time.

But that won’t work if I’m baking bread at the same time, so it will have to do.

Consequently, given the shortcomings of my table-top oven, it was a resounding success. Just wait until I have a real oven, whenever that might be.

At least the sponge rose up as it was supposed to do.

While we’re on the subject of rising up as it is supposed to do … "well, one of us is" – ed … I rose up as I was supposed to do this morning when the alarm went off at 07:00

That was helped by the fact that for once I was actually in bed before my ideal curfew time of 23:00. Not by very much, I have to say, but even one minute is some kind of progress.

After I’d finished my notes last night I did everything that I had to do and then headed for the hills.

Once in bed I remember very little. I started my little bedtime mantra but didn’t get very far before I fell asleep. And apart from a couple of awakenings at various times, there I stayed quite comfortably until the alarm went off.

In the bathroom I had a really good wash and clean-up, followed by a shave and some clean clothes. I must look my best for my trip out today. Who knows? I might even meet Emilie the Cute Consultant.

While I was at it, I washed my trousers and undies in the sink ready for next time. I try to keep ahead as much as I possibly can.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. Nerina and I were going through one of our phases and were walking down Hospital Street in Nantwich or driving down there, but we stopped at a pedestrian crossing to let a pedestrian pass. I recognised him as he walked past. He was a musician and after listening to his album thanks to a recommendation by a friend I’d actually gone out and bought a copy. I just happened to mention that I’d bought a copy of his album and we ended up having a very lengthy discussion about the music business before he left. He noticed a cut on the side of my face so told him that it was nothing to worry about and began to sing a parody of the Dire Straits song I’D PUT A BIT OF PLASTER ON MY FINGER, PUT A BIT OF PLASTER ON YOUR THUMB. He came running back wondering where he’d cut himself. I had to explain to him that that’s the lyrics of a song. Once he’d worked it out he went on his way quite happily.

But I’ll tell you something for nothing, and that is that if I can write parodies of modern (well, for me anyway) songs while I’m asleep I’m doing really well here. And walking through Nantwich and encountering rock musicians would have been quite a usual occurrence in the mid-70s with a host of garage bands in the area and recording artists like Strife. They were some really good times with the pubs in Nantwich like The Wickstead, The Rifleman and The Bowling Green. There was a time when my friends and I were thrown out of most of the pubs in the town at one time or another.

There was a boxing match out in Aston, a girl from our class, whatever her name might have been. We set out in the car to go to see it. It was taking place outside the church. We knew that we had to rush. Nevertheless we arrived late and the fight was under way. It looked as if she had been hurt because she wasn’t her usual lively self for boxing. Her opponent, an older man, was there and they were standing toe to toe trading blows. She was fending off more of his but then she caught him with a beautiful overarm right just as he was trying an overarm right. It was a very painful, tired overarm right as well as if it was her very last effort that she put into it but it made a perfect connection on the point of his jaw and that was him out for the count. She won the competition again but this time it was much closer than it had been in previous attempts so we were going to have to work on why this was the case and do something about it for the next time

What beats me about this is that I actually mentioned the girl’s name. She would have been one of the most unlikely candidates for a competitor in a boxing match (having said that, had any of the girls in my year or thereabouts come up against a male boxer, my sympathy and commiserations would have been entirely with the boxer) but not only that, I don’t think that I’ve ever spent even a minute thinking about this particular girl since I left school. So what’s brought her suddenly to the forefront of my mind?

Later on we’d been sorting out some music concerts. There had been a complaint from one of the washrooms that all of the towels had been used by a certain group wiping the lipstick off their faces after being kissed by thousands of girls so there were no clean towels in the washrooms. A certain guitarist was also there on tour. He was a nightmare to handle as everything had to be absolute perfection but perfection according to his standards. He had no spatial awareness and no awareness of anyone else around him and their feelings and so on. Everything was all about him. It was a very complicated issue to deal with him. He was sacking everyone after the first show, replacing his staff and then firing them again after the second and we just couldn’t keep up with all of the changes. Neither could he. It was beginning to deflect from his show but he wouldn’t have it at all and wouldn’t listen to explanations from anyone that maybe he ought to moderate his unnecessarily high standards in order for a compromise to be made that would mean that everything would go ahead. The more people he upset and the more people he fired, the fewer people he would find who would be willing to work with him

Anyone in the music business would be able to name this guitarist – I did in my dream but I edited it out – whose constant search for perfection has had exactly the opposite effect to that intended. Anyone of any great competence will look at the speed at which our guitarist has been hiring and firing and decide that he’s better off where he is. It’s not at all like Neil Young who has often been criticised because of what is perceived to be the lack of ability of his backing group, Crazy Horse. But as he has said on many occasions, he’s here to have fun and a good time with his mates and make everyone happy, not to launch himself into an eternal quest for the unattainable goal of perfection.

The taxi was late coming for me but it was a lovely drive down to Avranches even if the driver kept the windows closed.

The letter that I had notifying me of my appointment showed a different time from the time that they had noted so I’ve no idea what was happening there.

Anyway, I was eventually seen and the first thing that the doctor did was to rip off the plaster and give me a lecture about having it covered. I felt like a small child up before the headmaster (although where I would find a small child up before the headmaster in that hospital I really don’t know).

So I have to keep it uncovered and let the air get to it, and like it. So far, I’ve managed to avoid not seeing it. How long I can keep that up I really don’t know.

The doctor ran her echograph machine all over my arm right up as far as my armpit, and passed it fit for service. So on the 4th September I’ll know when dialysis will begin.

While I was waiting for my taxi back I bumped into Emilie the Cute Consultant’s sidekick and we exchanged a few words. And then the taxi came for me

All the way back (with the windows closed again) and the taxi driver had to help me up the stairs – something that she found extremely difficult and so did I. Seriously, if my cleaner’s not available to help me it’s going to be a real struggle

First thing that I did back here was to have a very late breakfast. I’d had nothing to eat or drink all day as yet so I was ready for some food.

It was interrupted by the arrival of the nurse. "I was here at 08:20 but must have just missed you"

"Yes" I thought. "And the taxi was late so it was well after 08:30 when we left" but I didn’t say anything.

After breakfast I had a lengthy chat with a friend in the UK. We have a project on the go and that involved some lengthy discussion.

It should also have involved a transfer of money but the battery has gone flat in my card reader so I had to order another and the money will have to wait.

There’s some bad news about this project, but it’s not unexpected so it’s no skin off my nose really. But with having a professional on the job, there are already some considerable savings that have been made so it’s “swings and roundabouts” really.

Liz was on line too so we had a lengthy chat. She was keen to see how today went and what the plans are for the immediate future so I filled her in.

The cleaner was here too and she whizzed through the apartment.

Once everyone had gone and things had calmed down I went for a very late hot chocolate and a slice of ginger cake. And it really was delicious as I said.

But now I know that I can substitute things in my basic recipe, how about a coffee cake? What about strawberry cordial instead of water to make a strawberry cake, with real strawberries in there somewhere?

But this is how most recipes work – trial and error. Sometimes some of these experiments work in spades and other times they are absolute disasters.

After that I made some naan dough and put most of it to freeze but kept one ball for tonight’s leftover curry, which was delicious as usual and the naan was perfection.

But now I’m off to bed. I have no plans for the next two days so I might even do some work. But right now I’m listening to a live concert by a Canadian group called “Black Mountain” so I’ll be going nowhere for a while

But on the subject of Liz and “filling in” I’m reminded of the guy who went for an interview for a job at the Ritz Hotel in London
"You should fill in our questionnaire" said the receptionist
"Very good" he replied, and went outside and beat up the doorman.

Wednesday 21st August 2024 – "ONCE YOU START …"

"… the dialysis procedure, all your problems will be over."

Yes, and we’ve all heard things like that before, haven’t we? If something like that could really solve all my problems I’d have done it a long, long time ago. Long before this.

In actual fact, it might solve one or two but I’m not expecting a Damascene conversion where I pick up my bed and walk. That’s being rather optimistic. But what we have learned from all of this is that it appears that dialysis is very much on the agenda.

Well know more after the 28th of August. That’s when everything is being inspected. They’ll make a decision very shortly afterwards. So if you see me leaping around like a two-year old, you’ll know that it’s done the business.

But for the moment let us return from our flights of fantasy back into the Real World.

After I’d finished my notes I wandered into the bathroom and there I put my puttees in the bowl to soak. The other pair I rolled up and put them ready for use in the morning.

Eventually I managed to make my way into bed, hours later than intended, and fell asleep almost immediately.

Something else awoke me at some point but I’m not sure what and I’m not sure when. This “not wearing a watch” is embarrassing but I’m scratching myself to death when I do.

The alarm summoned me to my feet at the usual time of 07:00 and I headed to the bathroom for a good wash and scrub down followed by a change of clothing. You never know – I might get to see Emilie The Cute Consultant this evening.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. This is another dream that involves some kind of panic attack. It was at one of these fairground places and there was a lot going on that didn’t seem to work correctly. There was a human cannonball who was fired from a cannon but the cannonball wouldn’t fire. It just rolled out of the bottom of the gun. It rolled over to by I think my youngest sister’s husband so what they had was this guy and this girl who had to climb inside the cylindrical thing where my brother in law was sitting. He was going to do something with the cannonball and they were going to intercept it but it was a terribly confined small space and I was there expecting some kind of panic or riot as the people concerned were unable to effectively escape from this claustrophobic environment. Luckily it passed off without any major incident. I certainly didn’t want to have to do it again with anyone and go through what was potentially a panic-stricken routine to extract them from this cylindrical tube thing while someone does something silly with a cannonball which seemed to be totally superfluous and ridiculous to me but that’s how it was

It goes without saying that I’ve no idea what’s going on there with that. The last thing that you’d expect to dream about is a human cannonball

A bunch of white track suits with a slogan on them were found to be mistyped. The slogan was wrong when I examined them as such and were counterfeit. They were able to test that by using a blob of chewing gum on the dragon’s head that was part of the label. There was a special technique for testing whether they were correct or not, in using chewing gum. This test failed so all the track suits were seized and were donated to refugees who were held in one of these detention centres

That sounds much more plausible. Forged sports equipment is quite a racket and I’m sure that we’ve all heard stories of famous mistypes in counterfeit sports goods. Without them there wouldn’t be famous sporting quotes like
"She was only the football supporter’s daughter
But she liked her ‘Uddersfield and her Arsenal"

When the nurse came, she moaned about my puttees losing their elasticity and asked me to arrange for a new pair. And on top of that there’s another issue. She has an electronic key to enter the building. She had it from my neighbour who has now moved into a Home and so wants her electronic key back

This will upset the nurses as the will then have to ring to be let into the building. And it would upset me because a couple of times now the nurses have intervened in my health issues when I’ve been unable to respond.

Consequently giving them unfettered access to the building is essential from my point of view and from theirs. Could I oblige?

So after she left and I’d had breakfast I put wheels in motion and made a phone call or two

Once more the Welsh lesson passed off well but I was still glad that it was over. In the pauses I’d chosen the missing track and written the notes ready for dictation so that’s that all done now.

The taxi came early for me so I was in a hurry to prepare but I ended up having everything to hand, for the first time ever, and we were there in plenty of time.

It wasn’t Emilie the Cute Consultant which was a shame, but her sidekick. And he tells me that he’s become a faithful listener of my radio shows. That means I have an audience of at least one.

We ran through everything and he told me that his Social Services department is on the trail of this Clinic in Avranches. He’ll let me know how it pans out.

Apparently my doctor had written a new prescription for me on 13th August. Where it’s gone, I don’t know but he printed it off, all … gulp … 19 items of it. And he added on an additional prescription for some new puttees, which will please the nurse.

He thinks that this dialysis will solve all of my problems, but he doesn’t even know what problems I have so he’s a very brave man

Back here my cleaner, who had been tidying the apartment, was waiting for me and she helped me upstairs where we sorted out the paperwork. We’ll check the medication on Friday and order some more.

Tea tonight was a delicious leftover curry with naan bread, cooked to perfection. But that’s the last of that batch of naan dough. I’ll have to make some more.

Now I’m off to bed. I have the heart specialist tomorrow morning so will he find a heart? Or am I turning into a politician? Watch this space.

But talking of human cannonballs, we had Gandey’s Circus who used to winter at Arclid near Sandbach. I had a friend who worked in the Crewe Employment Exchange who told me "Gandey’s are looking for a human cannonball. Do you fancy the job?"
"I thought that they already had one" I replied. "What happened to him?"
"Apparently he was fired last week" she replied.

Wednesday 14th August 2024 – SO THAT WAS..

…the Assessment that was.

And I’m still here to tell the tale after all of that. Not that there was all that to still be here after, because she was here and gone withinghalf an hour and I don’t know what all the panic was about.

Last night would have been another quite early night except for … you guessed it … trying to staunch a flow of blood.

This time it was on my left arm. Somehow I’d managed to knock it just a few inches from where I had the operation and it was bleeding copiously. Putting a plaster on it slowed down the flow and eventually I could crawl off into bed, having done everything that I needed to do.

And once again I was asleep quite quickly, something that seems to be a habit these days.

What else seems to be a habit these days is waking up early. I’ve no idea how early because somehow my watch became detached from my wrist during the night and I couldn’t find it in the bed

It didn’t take long to go back to sleep but I was tossing and turning for the rest of the early morning until the alarm went off at 07:00.

Switching off the alarm I made my way to the bathroom to make myself look pretty and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. At one stage I dictated As I was getting ready to get into bed the original recording leapt out of my hands and darted across the room somewhere and left me standing there looking pretty silly with this piece of live broadcasting stuff being carted about around the room. I didn’t half look silly while all of that was going on trying to calm it down and reunite it with me

Whatever that’s supposed to mean I have no idea at all. I’d been asleep in bed for quite some time when I dictated that so I quite clearly wasn’t “getting ready for bed”. The rest of that dream makes absolutely no sense whatever but there again, it’s a dream so it’s not really supposed to.

Later on I was doing a video of a game between Raith Rovers and Partick Thistle. I let my tongue run away with me when I was criticising Raith Rovers. As a result, Raith Rovers contacted me with several admissions and insisted that I record a separate radio programme to apologise to their club based on the information that they provided me to put the matter right. Football fans are renowned for letting their tongues run away but they should still be governed by the laws of slander and governed by other appropriate laws and rules. Fair play to Raith Rovers who took a very mature and adult way around the affair dealing with the issue. But I wish that I knew what it was that I had said because I’d never commented on a game between Raith Rovers and Partick Thistle in my life. I’ve no idea where this dream was coming from.

These days it’s quite dangerous to let one’s tongue run away with one. Occasionally you might find some incendiary comment or two within these pages but I won’t print anything definite unless either I have the evidence to support it or the remarks have been published elsewhere. Of course, if you ask a question, such as “is it true that …?” , that’s not libellous and as well as that the High Courts have ruled that neither vulgar abuse nor exaggerated hyperbole nor rhetorical hyperbole nor “colourful adjectives” is libellous. But what this has to do with Raith Rivers and Partick Thistle I really don’t know. They won’t be dancing in the streets of Raith tonight, folks!

And then there was something about having to interrogate that woman about that part where he thinks that she has the same name as some other woman who was quite famously associated with some footballers at one time and air traffic control when they called a delayed flight pinged him to say that if the bust with the passengers on board were to drive past him on their way to the ‘plane the driver of the bus would respect him for his decision.

And that’s a mystery to me too, what’s happening there. In fact, I must have spent a totally clueless night with all of this. I’m clearly overlooking the key to all these mysteries.

When the nurse came he tried his best to raise my morale, but that’s rather a difficult thing to do these days. I seem to be in the Slough of Despond again, and for no good reason. Not even a good breakfast cheered me up afterwards

Back in here I listened to the radio programme that will be broadcast this weekend and, satisfied, I sent it off to be included in the stream.

When the person from the Government came round she interviewed me for about 45 minutes.

The question of going into a Home never came up. She didn’t even say that I didn’t need to. It was just something that was taken for granted I suppose.

She thinks I ought to have much more help though. She would like my cleaner to come in every day but I drew the line at that. In the end she said that she would tell the Committee that I need help three times per week and hope that they approve it.

She didn’t really come up with any practical points about my life here although she agreed that once I’m downstairs things would be better. She didn’t offer any solutions about being in there earlier.

She did know and recommend a couple of garages that do conversions to cars to make them suitable for handicapped people, so that’s back on the agenda for next year too

One thing that surprised me was a question that she asked. We’d talked about who helps me and is it sufficient or do I need to be taken under the wing of a big organisation who can help with my care. I told her about my helpful cleaner and she asked "do you declare her?" (presumably to the Tax Office).

As it happens, I do. But she asked in such a matter-of-fact tone that it almost seemed to be the normal way of proceedings not to declare her.

After she left I had a coffee and then joined my Welsh class. Once more, it was quite successful which was nice. I’d done the homework so at least I was all clued up

My cleaner came in and skipped lightly around the apartment while I was at my lessons, and she disappeared afterwards just as quietly without disturbing me which was nice of her.

And during the lesson I only fell asleep once, and that was during a break. I soon awoke when class restarted.

After my hot chocolate and cake, I had a ‘phone call. Someone had sent me a message and I needed to call back.

It turns out that another friend of mine in Germany, the husband of another University colleague, has died. He was quite elderly and had several major health issues, but unfortunately he had one issue too many.

When I was in Germany last I visited them and we had a pleasant afternoon out by the local lake. I’ll just have to remember times like that. But this old age thing is terrible. The Grim Reaper is waiting round the corner for all of us.

Tea tonight was a leftover curry and naan bread, but it was a leftover curry with a difference. I still have these jars of Korma that I bought and which need eating at some time so I heaved one into the curry tonight and made enough for two nights. The other lot will be frozen for another time. I need to start up my cooking again.

So right now I’m going to go to bed ready for my Welsh lesson tomorrow. Let’s see if I can manage without bleeding everywhere. It’s no joke, this trail of blood that I leave all over the apartment that my cleaner has to deal with.

Still, it could be worse, I suppose. I don’t know why I’m complaining. At least I’m still here and people are looking after me. Imagine what would happen if I were ill like this and in the UK.

In on eof the hospitals I met a guy who had been a patient in a British hospital. There, the surgeon said "xr have some good news and some bad news"
"OK doctor" said the man. "Tell me the bad news first"
"I’m afraid that in all the confusion we cut off the wrong leg"
"Good grief!" exclaimed the man. "What’s the good news?"
"The good news" said the surgeon "is that your bad leg is getting better".

Wednesday 7th August 2024 – HAVING TALKED LAST …

… night about Liz, it was quite apposite that Liz should be sending me messages this morning, as I found after finishing my toilet

And so we had a nice little chat, which is always very pleasant. I do like talking to my friends.

And that reminds me – one or two people just recently have asked me for my Whatsapp details so they too can have a nice little chat with me.

So if you don’t have my details, send me a message, using the “contact Me” link at the bottom of the page to the right, to ask me for them. I need to enlarge the circle of my friends, as Jeremy Thorpe once said to Norman Scott.

But not at 23:00 or thereabouts, unless it’s an emergency. I’m trying desperately to be in bed by 23:00 and failing miserably. And not for the want of trying. And believe me, I am very trying, as many people will testify.

Last night was a dismal failure, as you might expect. By the time that I’d sorted out my puttees and washed my trousers it was much nearer midnight than 23:00 when I finally hit the hay.

And once again, I didn’t have much sleep. Although awakening at 06:15 is a much better proposition than 02:15 or whenever it was last night.

When the alarm went off I staggered into the bathroom for a good wash and some clean clothes, and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night and, more importantly, who had come with me. I was with a friend on our way to Chester. Somehow we lost our way in all the houses round by Upton on the big estate there. We were making our way slowly towards the town but didn’t seem to be making any progress. I kept on thinking about where I might be. This was confirmed a minute or two later by seeing a sign so I knew that we were in the right direction but actually making much progress was rather dubious. It was quite late at night and we had things to do. As we rounded a roundabout – by now we were on foot – we fell in with an old lady. She was wondering what we were doing out at this ridiculous time of morning so she began to interrogate us. There was me, my friend, Zero’s parents and a fifth person whom I can’t remember but it certainly wasn’t Zero. And how could it not be Zero if her parents were there? That’s the worst part of dreams like this. The old lady asked if we were all locals so we said “no”. She asked where we were from so I explained. She asked what we were doing. We let this carry on for ages with her chiselling out tiny little facts each time. We were spinning this out for ever. In the end we turned up at a house that was being renovated. It was actually one of ours although it wasn’t why we were here. We came to this house and began to settle down in it ready to do some work. That confused her, but it also confused us. We’d been talking about the taxis and how we’d been getting on. Did I look after the cars? Why did I choose the cars that I did? etc. I had the feeling that for the whole night I was being interrogated about a whole section of my life. Again I was just giving the bare minimum possible answer to the question and letting whoever it was – it might have been my friend or it might have been Zero’s father – chisel the information out stone by stone. What we were going to do in Chester I really can’t remember now but it involved parking up in that little street at the back of Frodsham Street between Frodsham Street and the city walls. Why that would be the case I don’t know.

But I’m impressed that I can remember the obscure geography of Chester. It’s 50 years since I lived there and although it was one of the happier moments of my life I never ever went back to live there. It was a beautiful city with a lot going on and some really nice people

Later on I was talking to another friend on the phone about a Scottish football game. I was sounding all enthusiastic about going. It was some kind of important game taking place I think at the Hamilton Stadium. In the end Terry asked me “is there plenty of parking there?” because he might come and bring the kids. I was just on the point of explaining that there was a lot of parking in Hamilton Town Centre when the alarm went off and awoke me so Terry now will never know.

Strangely, during the evening yesterday I was watching last season’s Scottish Amateur Cup Final played between St Patrick’s and Castlemilk, which took place at Hamilton’s football ground.

Liz and I were chatting on line while all of this was going on. A couple of us have a little project on the go and we’re trying to find a convenient time for all of us to be available to have a group chat. But if we all keep on collecting appointments like we seem to be doing, it’s probably going to take place at 03:00 one morning some day whenever.

The nurse came round this morning as usual, and seemed to have more time to spare today, so she was in “chat” mode. She’s doing her best to raise my spirits at the moment because she can tell that I’m flagging.

Not that it’s anything to worry about. It’s just that this relentless cycle of visits from the nurse, and trips to the hospital and all this huge pile of medication – the combined total of everything is depressing me

And as Sam and Bilbo said to each other in Lord of the Rings
"Have you thought of an ending?"
"Yes, several, and all are dark and unpleasant.”"

She went through the supplies to make a list of what she needed and then after she left I had a breakfast and carried on reading my book about Montana at the turn of the 20th Century.

We’ve reached a very interesting passage about the construction of the “Milwaukie Road” railway through the Rockies and the construction of the St Paul Pass Tunnel.

He told some exciting stories about the town of Taft – a railway town situate at one end of the tunnel. Apparently in the first census of the town the chief occupation was “railroad worker” and the second most popular occupation was “prostitute”.

And when all of the snow melted that first winter that the town was there, they discovered 17 dead bodies.

Yes, the West really was Wild in those days. And all these little anecdotes are in danger of being lost to posterity because no-one is reading these books any more.

After breakfast I had a leisurely start to the day and once I’d come round into the Land of the Living I started on the notes for the radio programme that I started yesterday.

Having fought, sometimes unsuccessfully, wave after wave of fatigue, they are now all written and ready for dictation whenever I can find a moment – presumably on Saturday night.

So starting tomorrow I’ll finish off this little radio project that I have in mind for the start of the year. There are all kinds of people who have contributed so much to the history of rock music despite being totally unaware of the fact and one of the most important needs to be honoured.

In the middle of it all my cleaner came round and we went through my medication to see what I needed, and then I packed her off into town to fetch it.

But woe is me! Oh me miserum! as they would have said in Ancient Rome. My prescription, made out at the end of April, has now expired and I’ve had no news about going to hospital in Paris where it will be renewed.

Consequently I had to write a letter to my doctor to ask him to write a fresh one and hope that he will. That will probably mean yet another visit but it can’t be helped.

Tea tonight was a leftover curry with naan bread, and delicious it was too. I ought to have more of that, but I don’t have the leftovers to go with it.

So now I’m off to bed ready to Fight The Good Fight tomorrow. More of the same, I imagine.

But before I go, talking in Latin reminded me of that American Senator how advertised "wanted – Latin teacher. Native speaker preferred!"
Suppressing their laughter, his colleagues asked him why he wanted one
"I’m being posted to Bolivia" he replied. "They say that that’s in Latin America and I want to be able to speak with the locals"

Wednesday 24th July 2024 – MY LITTLE COMMENT …

… yesterday about the “Evening Sentinel” awoke a few memories.

Going back 60 years, the bus that ran between leek and Hanley on the outbound journey used to drive without stopping, past hordes of potential passengers

There were regular complaints about this and on one occasion it was brought up in a meeting of the City Council.

Being questioned on the issue, the Councillor in charge of the City’s transport, Arthur Chollerton, replied "but if the bus stopped for the passengers it would disrupt the timetable!"

70 Years ago, you could imagine the kind of scathing comment that a remark like that would have attracted in a leading local newspaper with a wide circulation.

Eighteen months ago, they re-opened a new railway line in Devon. However, they only re-opened some of the previous railway stations, despite a considerable demand for hem all to be re-opened and even some new ones built.

Se despite the fact that there were passengers ready and waiting to be carried by the train, they were being left behind.

When asked why, the result that I received was that "we couldn’t fit those stations into the timetable"

It seems that the satire of the previous couple of generations is becoming the reality of the current one, and consequently I am waiting for the day that strange women living in ponds distributing swords becomes an acceptable way of choosing your leader.

Let’s face it, compared with a system that chose Johnson, Truss, May and Trump, it can’t be any worse.

But going back to trains in Devon not stopping, one day someone will tell the train-operating companies that if the trains didn’t stop at all for passengers and ran light between different termini they would have a much better chance of keeping to time.

And once they realise that, we’re all snookered.

But to give you a better example of how screwed-up railways in the UK are, there’s a railway station at the back of Coventry City’s football ground.

At the final whistle the platform is swamped with fans trying to catch a train back to town and the train is overwhelmed. The railway company’s response – “let’s not have the train stopping there after the game. The fans can go on the bus”

Of course, why should the railway company care about passengers? It makes its money from the subsidies off the taxpayer so it couldn’t care less whether there are passengers or not.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment, last night was another late night when I ended up going to bed long after 23:00. But nothing new there. It seems to be the current trend, to go to bed later and later.

But once more, once I was in bed I didn’t need much rocking at all and once I was asleep I stayed asleep, right the way through to when the alarm went off at 07:00. and it’s been a long time since that’s happened.

When the alarm went off I was being involved in the situation at Sparta Prague where they were having to be relegated for a certain reason. They’d just made a 0-0 draw with a Polish team in the European Cup but something had obviously gone wrong and I was in the middle of trying to sort it out and untangle it when the alarm went off.

Don’t ask me what I’d be doing with Sparta Prague because they haven’t come up in any conversation any time. As for “a Polish Team”, Caernarfon are to play against Legia Warzawa in the next round of the Europa League

So having had a good wash and transcribed the dictaphone notes, such as they were, I waited for the nurse to arrive.

When he turned up he saw to m legs and then attended to my arm. Even though it hurts and is quite tender, he didn’t have anything to say about its condition. So no news is good news as far as I’m concerned.

After he left I had my breakfast and then Liz came on line so we had a chat. And it was a Rosemaryesque chat too, that went on for one hour and twenty minutes. But it was different in that we actually had a lot to discuss. It wasn’t just an aimless, meandering chat.

So having sorted out a few things Liz wandered off for a coffee and I started work.

One of the things that I’ve been doing is to download and reformat a couple of concerts from a Canadian group called “Black Mountain” (thanks, Amber). They featured at a Hawkfest a while back and they recorded a live concert for German television

Despite everything, I’m trying to add to my repertoire of concerts and other live recordings, and I’m trying to encourage other artists to send me recordings of their concerts. It’s my aim to broadcast them on the radio on the anniversary of their taking place.

There’s still a lot of good music out there somewhere but it is difficult to find.

And then I’ve been choosing music for another radio programme and have even begun to write up the notes. Let’s crack on while I still can.

My cleaner came round today and we had a good chat. I’d actually finished my tac return so I gave it to her to post next time she’s at the Post Office. She also told me something about what is (or isn’t) happening downstairs and which confirms a suspicion that I’ve had for a while.

Tea tonight was a delicious leftover curry with naan, and the naan was perfection itself. I seem to have found the knack of making those now which is quite satisfying.

So now I’m off to bed, later than expected. I scratched my leg earlier and you wouldn’t believe the amount of blood that went everywhere. I’ve had to plaster myself up and wash the floor of the office round by where I sit.

My leg is still bleeding now, about an hour after it started. But with the blood being so thin what do you expect?

It does remind me of the time a short-tempered doctor and a nurse with only an imperfect grasp of English went to see the patient in the next bed to me who had come in from a road accident.
"The patient, nurse. How is he?"
"Him footballer at Crewe Alexandra" replied the nurse. "Him bleeding terrible"
"Never mind his qualifications" roared the doctor "How’s his condition?"

Friday 19th July 2024 – "SMILE!" THEY SAID.

"things could be worse!"

And so I smiled. And sure enough, things were worse.

It’s difficult to believe just how things are unravelling here right at the moment. Getting ready for bed last night after finishing my notes, I fell over.

It was another one of these “falling over backwards” things like I had in the kitchen the other day. This time though it was in the bedroom.

What is hard to believe and it’s true all the same, that despite all of the rubbish, mess, guitars and everything that clutter up this place, I actually hit the ground on my back without hitting anything on the way down. And the chances of that happening must have been extremely remote, to say the least.

It took me about half an hour to make it to my feet. Some kind of weird gyration from a sitting position into being able to crawl onto the bed with the aid of a well-stuffed suitcase as some kind of half-way step

But what a state to get into. I had visions of pulling the quilt down and sleeping on top of the carpet until Isabelle the nurse would rescue me in the morning.

However I struggled back upright, finished what I had to do and then rather happily crawled into bed with a sigh of relief.

After all of the exertions I was totally surprised to be wide awake at about 06:15 and I was actually up and about before the alarm went off

This morning I had a good wash and scrub up as well as a shave and change of clothes if I’m going out. And then waiting for Isabelle the nurse, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was with my taxis last night. We had a town, we had a plot of land so we decided that we’d set up something there and run the taxis from it. I had a nice little garage and a couple of cars but while I was talking about setting up everything I awoke in the middle of it and lost all of the momentum in the dream that I was having which was a shame

Not really a shame. I might have enjoyed running a taxi business 40 years ago but the gloss soon wore off and I wouldn’t go back to doing it again, not even during a dream, thank you very much.

And then I was expecting to slip into the estate of a relative of mine who was dying. What was important about this was that there had been another relative who had died under mysterious circumstances abroad and his body had been in a deep-freeze for years while people argued about where he was to go and what he was to do etc. I suspected that the British Coroner was unwilling to accept the body because he’d have to perform a post-mortem on it. There had been this huge campaign for years to bring this person’s body and that of several other people in similar circumstances, to bring them home and lay them to rest. The first thing that I did when I inherited the estate was to contact some firm of undertakers and make arrangements for this body to be brought back to the UK. I was expecting to be besieged by the Press and by news reporters but no-one actually came to visit me last night about this. The only person who set foot on my premises was my brother and I didn’t really know what he wanted. It was certainly nothing to do with this particular thing but after all the fuss and bother that had been made when the relative who died had refused to repatriate the relative from abroad, the fact that I issued repatriation instructions immediately that I took over the estate and that passed unnoticed, it was totally bizarre.

My greatest wish is that no-one repatriates me to the UK. I own a burial plot in the cemetery at Ixelles in Brussels where Marianne is interred but I don’t want to go there either. I want to be put in a natural cemetery and a tree planted on top of me. That’s how I shall live for ever – being absorbed into the roots of a tree that will grow and grow.

Finally I was living at home and wanted a bath so I stuck my head in the bathroom. My little sister was in the bath and my two younger brothers were drying themselves so I thought “never mind – I’ll have a bath again”. I went off to do something or other. On the way back I heard some noise in the bathroom so I went to see. Now my sister had left the bath so I thought “ahh, here’s a bath full of water free”. My brother said “the shower by the way is totally useless but the bath is wonderful” so I thought “I’m really looking forward to getting into the bath at last and having a good wash. I certainly need one”.

Ahhh the good old days – all in the bath, oldest first while the water is hotter. If we are lucky there might be a bit of hot water left in the baby burco water boiler – careful not to scald yourself when you pour it into the bucket and tip it into the bath.

All the smaller kids in the bath together. “ohh look, a bubble-bath” – yes, it was baked beans on toast for tea

Apart from the fact that I don’t have two brothers, anyone who goes on about “the good old days” will receive a smack in the mouth. There was nothing whatever that was good about them.

Isabelle was late coming. There’s all kinds of chaos going on all over the place this morning apparently. She didn’t wait around long because she was in a hurry so she cleared off quickly and I had a rather late breakfast.

The taxi was late coming too. All of their computing system and radio control has broken down and they are driving around with pencil and notepad with a list of jobs. Just like back in the 1960s before radio control in fact. Nothing seems to be working this morning.

They were all working at the Nephrology Clinic – at least, the people who saw me were. Unfortunately Emilie the Cute Consultant wasn’t there to soothe my fevered brow but her sidekick was and I told him my tale of woe about being held to ransom at the clinic down the road.

He had the decency to be upset and apologetic, but I made it quite clear that I wasn’t going to set even one foot ever again in that maudit établissement

And it turned out that while Emilie the Cute Consultant wasn’t there, she’d been talking about me to the others and some of my little secrets are now in the public domain.

Still, there’s only one thing worse than being talked about, and that’s NOT being talked about. It’s nice to know that Emilie the Cute Consultant thinks that I’m worth talking about.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … Nephrology Clinic, the consultant there admired the work that my cleaner and Isabelle the nurse had done. He considered that I’m lucky in having such good and attentive people around me.

There’s localised swelling but the wound itself is healing, it’s not septic and he’s pleased with the progress.

He can’t explain the panic the other night because there were no obvious signs. If we hadn’t imagined it, which I assured him that we hadn’t, he reckoned that my little team of helpers had resolved everything on the spot in the nick of time.

While I was waiting for my taxi back his secretary went off in search of an orange juice. And just as she came back with apple juice, the taxi arrived.

On getting in I texted my cleaner to say that we were on our way back, only for him to announce that we had other pick-ups.

So eventually with a full car of passengers we headed back to Granville. The driver asked if he could practise his English on the way home so we had a very interesting chat on the way home

Back here I had a salad for lunch and then came in here where I promptly crashed out. And how. I was dead to the World. I hadn’t even noticed that my cleaner had been and gone.

Rosemary rang me for a chat and it must have been a very strange chat at first as I struggled to awaken.

After she’d finished I had my hot chocolate and then made a loaf of bread. While that was proofing i made some naan dough

And then I could finally have the leftover curry that I should have had on Wednesday.

Tomorrow I have lots of work to to, catching up with radio stuff. I should have finished off that radio programme today but what with one thing and another I didn’t.

So don’t forget, Saturday night, my Hawkfest at LE BOUQUET GRANVILLAIS at 21:00 CET, 20:00 UK Time, 15:00 Toronto time.

But thinking of all of the kids in the bath together reminds me of the noble Lord being attended to at his bath by his manservant, Wibble.
Suddenly the noble Lord breaks wind in the water. And the manservant dashes off and comes back with a hot water bottle.
"Why have you brought that?" asked the noble Lord
"You asked for it, My Lord" said Wibble
"I asked for it?"
"Yes, my Lord" replied Wibble. "I heard you clearly. You said ‘what about a water bottle, Wibble’ "

Wednesday 3rd July 2024 – "A GENERAL ANAESTHETIC …"

"… for just a few cuts in a couple of veins? Certainly not! You’ll have a local anaesthetic for a half-hour operation like this!" (… and like it!) and there was no arguing with the Beast of the Hôpital de la Baie

Here was a woman who means business – at least, I think that’s what she was meaning. If you think that my accent is bad you want to hear hers. She comes from a Spanish/Portuguese environment I reckon and I could hardly understand a word that she said at times.

A few other times I understood clearly enough. "They have you down for an overnight stay too. Why is that?"
"PLease miss" I felt like saying, "I live on my own". I replied "There’s no-one looking after me."
"Well, don’t you have a friend where you can go? Isn’t there a neighbour who will take you in?"

Well, as it happens, there is a neighbour who will take me in but I’ll be lucky to come out alive. Do you remember the case of Kirk Anderson, the Manacled Mormon who claimed that Joyce McKinney had chained him to her bed and then had her wicked way with him? We’ll be back reliving those events again.

At least, not all of them. And it won’t be a doctor that I’ll need to see. His job is to heal the sick. I’d need the assistance of a medium or a spiritualist to help me raise the dead.

But seriously just for a moment, I was lucky to leave the Beast of the Hôpital de la Baie’s lair alive and I’m having a horrible feeling about this business on the 16th. I’ve mentioned before … "and on several occasions too" – ed … the rather brusque business-like attitude and manner that seems to exist in the hospitals around here.

Never was it more in evidence than today.

Nothing else very much business-like about today unfortunately.

Last night was another late night which was a shame followed once again by being wide awake at 03:15, lying there with streaming nose and eyes and feeling absolutely lousy.

It was at about 06:00 when I gave up the fight and arose from my stinking pit. And when the alarm went off at 07:00 I was already washed, dried and sitting at my desk working.

The nurse was late today. Apparently my neighbour had had a bad fall and when the nurse arrived there she was sprawled al over the floor. He had to pick her up, dust her off and start her all over again.

He’s trying to encourage her to go into a Home for the elderly and infirm and it’s not a bad idea, except for the fact that robbing a person of their autonomy is often sentencing them to death. I know people mean well when they go to, say, take the tops off your yoghurt for you or cut up your meal for you, but it really is humiliating.

On that note, he did what he could to put my neighbour back on her feet and then came down here to see what damage he could do to me.

And as it happens, I didn’t need much from anyone else. I could create enough damage on my own. He sorted out my legs with my puttees and then pointed out the shortage of supplies. Not that it did much good because he was gone before I could take it all in.

After breakfast I had a listen to the dictaphone but there was nothing there from the night which was a surprise because there was a lot of stuff that I can’t remember now about the confusing aspects of going to hospital – is it better to take one form of recovery or take another form, what was wrong with each one? How would I return home? How things would be complicated and how things would be managed. That drifted on through some kind of wartime scenario but it was all to do with my ill-health. Unfortunately I can’t really remember all that much of it now which is a shame but I definitely recall being torn desperately in two directions with no clear path to guide me – and there’s a lot of truth in a feeling like that right at the moment. I’m currently being pulled in every direction save that in which I think that I ought to be going.

Today I’ve been working on a new project. One of the greatest live albums ever celebrates its birthday soon and although the album is actually quite short, the whole concert lasted for just over two hours, the event was recorded (well, obviously) in its entirety and I have found, tucked away in a few various recesses here and there, a copy of the recording!

It contains the songs that are well-known from the published work of course, but also plenty of others and loads of interesting and illuminating dialogue between the musicians that has never seen the light of day.

We shall be having a great deal of fun with this broadcast when it hits the air.

There’s also been a cookery master-class going on too. I’ve been teaching everyone in my little travel group to make naan bread, seeing as almost everyone seemed to be planning on making a curry.

My cleaner came and went early today as I had to be ready by 16:00 for the taxi to take me to see the Beast of the Hôpital de la Baie.

We were late arriving, due to problems on the road with all the traffic, however that meant that I didn’t have to wait long.

With the kind of glance that would curdle milk at 100 paces she enticed me into her lair and then the interrogation began. I felt like at any moment the bright light and thumbscrews would be out but eventually she threw me out, satisfied that another helpless victim has been ensnared.

The taxi brought me back here where my loyal cleaner helped me up the stairs, God bless her! Ho nice it was to see a friendly face.

And her help was welcomed too because I’d have never managed the 25 Steps on my own.

On that subject, I might not have to face them for much longer. Although there’s 11 months left on the lease of the tenant in my apartment downstairs, I’ve issued instructions to the letting agents to start proceedings to make sure that the lease isn’t automatically renewed, as most leases are.

Here in France, tenants have a great many rights and things have to be done “by the book” So it’s worth paying someone to do it correctly. But I bet that there’s yet another banana skin somewhere lurking around.

Up here i made tea – a leftover curry with naan bread and it really was delicious. I could eat that all over again. But not right now as I’m off to bed. Next Wednesday will come round soon enough

Talking about anaesthetics however reminds me of the time that Idi Amin went to the dentist’s. The dentist worked out what he needed, laid out all the tools and drills and went to his fridge from which he pulled a hypodermic needle
"What are you doing?" asked a panic-stricken Amin
"There’s no need to worry" said the dentist. "I’m going to give you a local anaesthetic."
So Amin left his chair, picked up the dentist and began to beat him to a pulp.
When he’d finished, he turned to the dentist’s assistant and said "NOT local! American! OK?"

Wednesday 26th June 2024 – WE HAVEN’T FINISHED …

.. yet – not by a long way.

Two more appointments to add to the list of liaisons, two more pills to add to the mountain of medication. My poor cleaner is running her socks off to help me up the stairs here and going to the chemist’s on my behalf. As she put it so succinctly – "I spend more time here than I do in my apartment. I may as well move in here."

Nothing is guaranteed to make me recover quicker than a threat like that. I value my independence and, strangely, my solitude. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I just wasn’t cut out to live with anyone else.

Poor Nerina, Laurence (and Roxanne), Marianne and Cécile. They all tried, bless them …

It seems to be the thing that I can’t even live with myself these days either. Once again it was late when I crawled into my lovely bed, and that was that.

Totally and definitively too. I don’t think that I moved a muscle and depressingly, there was nothing on the dictaphone to break the monotony.

When the alarm rang I was confused again but managed to work it out in enough time to beat the second alarm five minutes later. In the meantime I had hauled myself off into the bathroom to sort myself out and find some clean clothes.

The nurse doesn’t come for an hour or thereabouts so I had to loiter around doing a few bits and pieces until he put his sooty foot through the door.

For a change just recently he was quite chatty and told me several stories about life in the town, including the story of the “Aryan” posters being posted by the Fascists in the area.

After he left I made myself breakfast.

Much of the rest of the day has been spent organising the paperwork. There were several bills to pay, and thank heaven that much (but not all) of French administration has gone onto “payment on line”.

But how they have set it up is crazy. They have indexed everything under the file number of the bill, which means that if you have three bills to pay, you need to log in and go through the procedure from start to finish for each bill.

What they should have done is to register the bills under a person’s identity, like his social security number. Just log in once, “how much do I owe in total?” and one payment would clear the bill.

Next step was mail and letter writing, trying to catch up with where I left off with piles of outstanding correspondence.

Halfway through I came across my Tax Return which is now several weeks late. And so I’ve been collecting information for that too. Not that I’ll owe very much at all but one has to go through the motions

The cleaner came round as usual this afternoon and whisked her way through the premises. It now looks as if someone lives here, which is probably not a good idea. I’d have to fight off callers.

The taxi turned up early for me and I was dropped off at the medical centre in plenty of time. However, the driver insisted on accompanying me upstairs to the waiting room.

That was a shame because I wanted to go to the supermarket on the corner. I don’t know if I’ve explained the issue about my new bank card – how it has to be authenticated by making a shop purchase with the PIN. That should have been my chance just then

The vehicles that we use are chartered to take you from “X” to “Y” and so if it says “third floor, Pole Santé du Port then “third floor, Pole Santé du Port” it is, direct and in a straight line, with no turning, no deviation, no passing “Go” and no collecting £200.

It’s a question of Insurance, so I’m told. And having worked for an Insurance Company straight from leaving school, I can believe it.

Emilie the cute consultant’s sidekick was not pleased with my lack of progress and neither am I. Of the weight that I lost while I was in hospital, half of it has gone back – in a week!

Consequently he’s upped the dose of the diuretic that I take. I’m not convinced that it’s doing me much good but we shall have to see.

While I was there he gave me two appointments for August. How many is this now? And August already? Would you believe it. Time is melting away.

While I was there I asked him if he had a card machine so that I could pay for this consultation with my card and unlock it that way. But “No”. All of his clients are Social Security cases like me So “bang” goes that idea too.

The third idea was a “no-no” too because the driver came up to the waiting room for me so I couldn’t nip out to the shop on the corner even now.

And then the battery in the ‘phone was flat so that I couldn’t ring my cleaner to say that I was coming back. We had to ring her doorbell to attract her.

She seemed to think that my ascent as a little easier than yesterday. All that I can say is that it must have been bad.

But in here the two of us sorted out the medication (resurrecting a long-suppressed medication! What a surprise!) and sorting out the appointments.

Then teatime – a leftover curry lengthened with potato and peanuts and accompanied by rice and naan bread. As usual, absolutely delicious yet again

But right now, I’m off to bed for what’s left of the night, and to wonder how I’m going to fit all of these appointments in.

It was so much easier when I was with Nerina. I was once called in as a result of a blood test and the doctor gave me a thorough going over.
He telephoned Nerina the following day to ask to speak to her so she went in to see him.
"How is Eric?" Asked Nerina. "Is he going to be OK?"
"Eric is suffering from severe nervous strain and overwork." said the doctor. "He’ll be fine but only if you follow these rules very carefully. Let him put his feet up at home, feed him breakfast in bed every morning and cook him light meals three times per day. Gently tuck him up in bed and pander to his every whim"
So Nerina went back home and I asked her "what did the doctor say?"
She looked at me and said "I’m terribly sorry but I’m afraid you’re going to die."

Wednesday 19th June 2024 – SO THAT WAS …

… my first day of freedom. How did it go?

The answer is regrettably not too well and I have a feeling that I shall have to make the most of the next few days because whichever way you look at things, they aren’t too good.

But last night was wonderful. Crawling into bed between clean bedclothes that actually smelled of cleanliness and the like. Being curled up in there made coming home worthwhile.

And for a change I slept the Sleep of the Dead too and don’t recall stirring at all. The alarm when it went off at 07:00 took me completely by surprise for a moment and I had to think where I was.

When I left the bed I was quite agile too and could move very easily. That made it all worthwhile too. I wandered off to do the necessary and then to sort out the medication.

That is what I have been doing for much of the day – sorting all of that out. There was the Visiting Nurse who came by to sort out my legs and my puttees.

she helped me for a short while with the medication, we planned out her programme for the next few days because that has changed with the need to give blood tests and injections and the like, and then for a while I was on my own.

Luckily I checked my e-mails because I’d received a prescription from Paris so I printed that out and passed it to my cleaner when she came by. She was on her way into town to pick up my injections so she took the prescription with her, but that’s something that she won’t find in a hurry.

Looking at all of this medication I can’t really cope with it myself. I’ve no idea how many pills, potions and powders I’m taking. I lost count a long time ago but I’m taking them five times per day.

They need to be sorted out correctly for the appropriate times and that’s when it’s going to start to become complicated. After all, it’s all very well sorting them out for the correct time, if I can manage that, but then I have to remember to take it. And that, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, is something else completely.

Somewhere in the middle of this I had to stop for breakfast. And my bread sandwich – two slices of bread with a slice of bread in between – was put to good use because I had three rounds of toast smothered in vegan butter and it was nice.

As well as the two appointments that I have in the very near future, I now have a third for some time in August. That’s with a heart specialist here in Granville.

And this is about the positive nadir of just about everything, because it’s with the same heart specialist whom I saw four years ago and who started me off on this trail.

Castle anthrax took up the case, passed me from pillar to post like a parcel in a Belfast pub until in the end I lost interest. Much as I liked Leuven and Alison, I wasn’t going all that way to be told “it’s not us, it must be them”. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall the frustration

Four years and we’ve gone round and round in circles and we’ve arrived right back where we started. At least I can console myself that my appointment isn’t with the Oozelum Bird or that really would create another unexpected problem.

There was some stuff on the dictaphone from last night as well, which I wasn’t expecting. We were back in the middle of being all shot down again but we were civilians. It was some kind of internment camp. They’d been testing gunfight and found surprisingly that many civilians were totally exempt from the effects of gunfire from machine guns and could come out of a barrage of gunfire totally unscathed. We were regrouping in some kind of camp. There was a trip organised to Portugal, only a quick going and coming back but I put my name down to make a change. So did a few others Then they began to wonder when it would be taking place. A process of elimination of about three days made out that it would be taking place over the course of the next day or two and we wouldn’t be staying long. That was a big disappointment to many but I thought that any change would be a nice present, a difference, and people didn’t have to go on it anyway but it would be nice to break up the usual routine because searches were becoming more commonplace. They’d wanted to search me on a couple of occasions but I’d somehow managed to postpone the inevitable.

Yes, anything to break up the routine and make a change. I’d be the first to volunteer. I’m always keen for a change of surroundings when I can, but that’s not likely to happen very much in the future. It’ll be an orbit going between here and Avranches with the occasional run-out to Paris, I should think.

I was at a football match last night where a team was playing and just after having conceded a silly, controversial goal, they went up to the other end of the field and Jack Kenny scored a magnificent glancing header to restore whatever it was that was happening prior to that silly goal. Then the alarm went off immediately just as he was running off to celebrate

While I was in hospital I was thinking how glad I was that it was the close season. Imagine being incarcerated when there’s football kicking off. Jack Kenny plays as a striker for Connah’s Quay Nomads and is one of my favourite players. He’s a tireless runner who works his socks off for the team but I wish that he’d concentrate more on the game and less on the injustices that he thinks that he has received.

My cleaner dropped by on her way home. As I expected, she won’t find that latest prescription easy to fill and the pharmacy had to make a few urgent telephone calls. Nevertheless she had the rest of the medication and a month’s supply of injections that needed to go into the fridge.

How many is this now? I haven’t a clue and I’m past caring.

For tea tonight, there was no leftover curry of course. But not to be outdone, I cooked some couscous with lentils and added a jar of that strange vegan Korma sauce that I bought ages ago.

While that was doing, I made some rice and veg and cooked myself a naan too.

The curry was actually delicious, which is just as well because there’s enough left for another meal, so the rest will go into the freezer for “again”.

So that’s everything. I’ve been feeling better today than I’ve felt for quite some time which at first glance is wonderful news, but having had a scare the other week I saw the physical signs of what was going on and they are creeping back already.

Emilie the cute consultant will ring me on Friday so I’ll be having a chat with her and I’ll be seeing one of her sidekicks next week.

If I’m still at liberty as late as this time next week it will be a miracle. The storm-clouds are gathering

And then it will be back to the Tricatel food, just like mother used to make. I remember once when our tea was ready and she shouted "if you’re not here in five minutes your meal goes to the dog" so we were there in four minutes.
After all, why should the dog have to suffer?

Wednesday 29th May 2024 – IN THE MIDDLE …

… of a period where my work output has slowed down to the kind of speed that makes a crawl look rapid, today I had a day where I emulated my namesake the mathematician and did three fifth of five eights of … errr … nothing.

In fact, I probably didn’t even do three fifths of five eights of it. It’s not been a very good day for me in that respect.

And that’s a shame because for once I actually managed something like an early night. Even going to bed and sliding under the covers was easier and I could toss and turn all night to my heart’s content. For the first time in several weeks i actually felt content in bed.

For a change I slept through to the alarm and found that I could even sit upright in bed without pain. When I arose from my stinking pit I actually felt in a much better frame of mind too and it looked like being a good day

It didn’t take long for things to go south, that’s for sure. For a start that large file transfer that I’d tried to do yesterday had failed and I had to do it again later in the day.

First though I had to go through the usual morning routine and I’ll tell you for nothing that this anti-potassium stuff really does taste awful.

Next step was to have a good wash and change of clothes. My old clothes walked into the laundry basket on their own

The nurse came around later on and as well as the usual morning routine for him, he had to give me my injection and take a blood sample. Consequently I’m feeling like a dartboard again because he doesn’t have “the touch”.

And I wish that he’d stop moaning. I’m not responsible for the (lack of) light in the dining area or the diameter of my veins and there’s nothing that I can do about it.

After he left I transcribed the dictaphone notes. I dreamed once again that the alarm had gone off so I arose and left the bed. I had to tell my mother where the alarm was so that she could show my brother for the following morning. Just then the alarm went off again. I thought “well, not to worry. I can awaken him and show him where the alarm is now that the other ‘phone is ringing”. But there was no ‘phone ringing at all. There was no alarm. There was no awakening. It was 11:00 and the last 8 hours that we’d had … fell asleep here …

so we’re back on the phantom alarms again. And back with the family again too. I thought that I’d said “goodbye” to them a while back.

I was with The Saint last night in Midwest USA. Some guy had been killed and everyone was investigating his murder. The last time he was seen was with a couple of women. Slowly, these two women were denounced by the neighbours as being Amish and made some kind of living by entrapping single men into marrying one of them and presenting a baby, then hitting the men for alimony that would last for 18 years but in the meantime moving on to the next guy. So The Saint had to find these women and investigate it. Eventually he was picked up by these two women and taken back to their house. He was plied with drink and other kinds of things. It wasn’t too long before some kind of mock or sham marriage was arranged between him and the younger of these two women. It was quite clear what they had in mind which was to entrap him in a bedroom scene. This slowly developed throughout the night until in the end I awoke and missed all of the excitement.

Most un-Amish-like behaviour. I’ve encountered plenty of Amish people. There’s a large pocket of them up around where my place is in New Brunswick and “over across” in Maine. You’re in a hurry going south towards Interstate 95 and suddenly come screeching up behind a horse and buggy. It’s quite disconcerting. All oil lamps and stuff like that – the kind of technology that would even impress the people in Crewe.

The next dream also involved The Saint. The Austrian police had intercepted a drugs run of a large amount of high-quality drugs and needed to find out more. The operation was so secure that no-one knew who their contact was so they decided to infiltrate James Bond … "James Bond?" – ed … as the drugs runner and have him pick up all the information that he could while he was on his way round ready for the final arrest at the appropriate moment. Of course he agreed to this but under some very strict terms to make it look even more convincing such as the fact that he had been arrested and had been released with no charge because the police couldn’t find the drugs on him, therefore he must have had them hidden somewhere extremely secret that no-one else knew and to pick up the story from there, and this was where it all began.

Vienna was always the place for that. The “Crossroads of Europe” where east meets west, the amount of smuggling that went on there across the various borders, and not just in THE THIRD MAN either, was legendary, and probably still is. I was there with a 22-tonne lorry at Christmas 1997 and was told not to leave it parked unattended in the commercial vehicle car park or it would be in Bratislava in half an hour, with me a long way behind.

By the way, can you guess what I’m watching as I eat my evening meal?

My cleaner didn’t clean this afternoon. Instead we had a very lengthy chat about the arrangements for my visitors as I won’t be here to greet them. She knows my apartment and so do they so there shouldn’t be any issues. They can all work it out between them and it’ll probably be easier than if I tried to resolve anything.

As you might expect, I crashed out for a few hours again today. Yesterday of course I didn’t crash out at all which is a rare achievement these days. A shame that I can’t keep it going.

Tea was a left-over curry and this batch of naan bread dough is perfection itself. The naan that I made this evening was delicious, nice and light and fluffy as it’s supposed to be

So right now I’m going to bed. Tomorrow I’m backing up the computer, packing and baking bread.

But something that I wrote just now reminds me of the two guys who locked themselves out of their apartment. One of their windows was open so they borrowed a ladder and began to climb up.
"Doing this makes me feel like a fireman" said one
"Me too" replied his friend "but where would we find one at this time of night?"

Sunday 26th May 2024 – I CAN’T GO …

… on like this much longer. I really can’t.

You cannot imagine the amount of pain I’m in from the muscle in my right leg and you cannot imagine the amount of effort even the most simple of everyday tasks is taking me.

Crawling into bed at night is a nightmare and one I’m in I’m stuck in that position and can’t move at all. And then there’s this stabbing pain every so often that starts in the sole of my right foot.

One thing that’s certain is that I’ve had enough of all of this.

Last night I was actually in bed quite early – well before 23:00. And how happy I was about that too. If only I knew what was coming.

It was 04:15 when I awoke in agony and couldn’t find a comfortable position, couldn’t move, couldn’t turn over, couldn’t do anything

Nevertheless I decided to stick it out until the 08:00 alarm but I gave up round about 06:00 and crawled out of bed. So much for the early night and possible lie-in.

After a good wash and clean-up I found another early-bird so Liz and I had a good chat on the internet for quite a while. Liz is also planning on joining the Air Fryer Assembly and was picking my brains, such as I have these days.

Once the nurse had been and gone (and been persuaded to do my blood test on Monday) and I’d had breakfast Liz and I carried on out chat for a while and then I came in here.

At first I didn’t do much except transcribe the dictaphone notes from the night. People who were believed to be British spies or spies for, the UK were being denounced by another spy organisation from the Midlands as unfaithful. The authorities were taking every step within their powers to find these members who were … fell asleep here

That’s no surprise given what I was reading last night. There was something about The Disappeared – the missing victims of the IRA terror squads – and then about a police sting that went wrong in the USA when a County Police Undercover Unit “busted” the Undercover Unit of a neighbouring County

Later on I was rolling through all the history of Billy the Kid during the night. All about the different women with whom he was consorting, about the different stories about his end, the different stories about his grave and so on. I was churning it over in my mind ready to dictate when I would remember something else so I’d start again – and again, and again. And this went on for several hours while I was asleep in the very early morning and I never actually managed to dictate anything about it.

Then I couldn’t do much because I crashed out again, and for a couple of hours too. That’s no surprise given the early start that I’d had.

Lunch was late today as you might expect after all of that. It had taken me a good while to come round into the Land of the Living today – longer than usual in fact, and that’s long enough.

Once lunch had finished I spend the whole afternoon , yes the whole afternoon baking

Right now I have a pile of pizza dough, a whole pile of naan bread dough and I also baked myself a flapjack.

A flapjack with a difference too because while I was hacking some figs about with the food processor I had a few squares of chocolate in there too.

It’ll be intriguing to see what that tastes like, all mixed up with the honey

There would have been biscuits too but I ran out of time, of patience, of energy, of enthusiasm etc.

The pizza dough was delicious and the pizza excellent but I had other preoccupations so that I couldn’t really enjoy it

So now that I’ve finished my notes I’m going to crawl into bed, pains and all, ready for tomorrow and my blood test. And this must be the very first time that I hope that they’ll have found a serious anomaly so that they can do something about it

But it all reminds me of my namesake the Arctic Explorer Charles F Hall in the second half of the 19th Century who lived up to the family tradition by being murdered by his expedition crew.

He was once treated for frostbite “in an embarrassing place” and when he asked why, told his interviewers "the USA’s Admiralty Board told me to stick it out as long as I could, but I must have misunderstood"

Wednesday 22nd May 2024 – I HAVE GONE …

… would you believe, for a whole day without falling asleep even once. And when was the last time that that happened?

It has to be said that I did waver for about 10 minutes round about 17:45 but Rosemary sending me a few text messages soon snapped me out of it.

The interesting thing will be to see how I manage tomorrow. Is this just a flash in the pan? Or is it a renaissance? My money is of course on the former because as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, nothing is so bad that it cannot deteriorate any further, but you never know.

That was the last thing that I was imagining when I finally crawled into bed last night, later than I would have liked it to be but earlier than some just recently.

It was another turbulent night too. I don’t think that I had all that much sleep. But I was definitely asleep when the alarm went off. No phantom alarms during the night – at least, not that I recall.

There was the usual morning routine with the nurse helping me put on my new slippers, and then I had a leisurely few hours while I slowly came round into the Land of the Living.

After my coffee and fruit bun I had things to do. I’m going for a check-up in Paris on 10th June and I needed a bon de transport – a transport voucher – as my journey is more than 150 km

You’ve no idea how many times and how many different numbers I had to dial in order to find the Secretariat of the doctor. In the end I managed to contact them and they’ll send me one.

Next step was the taxi company to book the car to take me. As the journey is over 150 kms I need “prior authorisation” from the Social Security. No problem there because it seems that the doctor has asked for – and been given – “prior authorisation” for 15 trips. And so I invited the receptionist out to hit the high spots with me one night.

Next task was to transcribe the dictaphone notes. There were six of us living in a house all together. We had a few things to do, one of which was to play in some kind of cup final. The following day the film that had been taken of the match was shown to us. We could see the penalty shootout at the end where we’d scored penalties. They wanted us to do this again and then go to see a famous footballer to talk to him about the match. This meant leaving the bed and dressing. Someone had brought everything into the room for us to make our own sandwiches to eat on the trip. I was going to make a sort of burger, I suppose, with a burger and crudities on top but while I was cutting the cabbage or cauliflower or something like that, the cabbage or cauliflower fell onto the floor. No-one knew where it was. I couldn’t see it. In the end after several minutes someone pointed it out to me. By this time my quilt had fallen off the bed and had landed on top of it. I thought to myself that I would never ever have this sandwich like this. In the end I abandoned the attempt for the moment and chose other crudités to go on the pile. Then we slowly began to set off. I had the preferential place on the transport but I couldn’t think why because my goal to me was no more different than anyone else’s goal during this match

Later on I had a similar type of dream. A girl I knew in Brussels was there with me. We ended up driving to some kind of city and we were discussing a few things that had taken place over the last couple of days. I jokingly said to her “if you aren’t very careful I’ll be offering you a job”. Her eyes lit up at that and she wanted to know more about what I meant. Of course I meant it in fun but for some reason or other I felt like sharing my life with someone and she was there. We had a chat. It turned out that she wasn’t really all that interested. She asked what was involved so I talked about my future plans for next holiday, which was to go on a driving tour of places in Italy. She didn’t fancy that. She wanted to go to Borth in mid-Wales. I asked why and she replied that it’s handy for the airport if she wants to go somewhere else. I made a joke about “was it you, that person on the bicycle”? There had been some talk about a person on a bicycle. She was rather offended by that. She reminded me of a holiday that she’d done on a motor cycle previously. I explained that a motor cycle is far easier than going on a bike in any case. The discussion continued as we climbed into my car, the red Cortina. There was a guy loitering around. He had a really strange beard. I asked him if he wanted a lift. He replied “yes” but didn’t climb into the car as if he was waiting for someone else. I pulled forward out of the parking spot but he just shook his head then and walked away so I drove off and continued my discussion with the girl.

She was a strange girl too. Assistant to the Editor of the Brussels edition of “Time” magazine, she did have a short fuse if you touched one of her sacred cows. And she came to stay with me – for 12 months too – in 2003 while her apartment was rented out when she was short of money. And I never saw her again after she left

And so that dream continued. We walked mile after mile after mile all the way through South Cheshire, through Crewe. I was there with my youngest sister, leading her on trying to encourage her but with her little legs, it must have been a nightmare this trip. We just kept on going. Nothing distracted us all the way up Edleston Road past all of these cheap shops selling sweets and things, through a kind of market hall at the top and out onto Nantwich Road. We carried on walking towards Nantwich for whatever reason – I had no idea at all. Poor little sister. She must have been in hell trying to walk this journey with us with her small legs.

Why I said “so that dream continued” I have no idea. There’s probably something missing somewhere that I didn’t record and that’s a shame, especially if it includes Zero, Castor or TOTGA. They didn’t make it last night but it’s nice to see a couple of other people whom I know.

While the cleaner was here I finished off the radio notes for the programme on which I’ve been working, and I made a start on choosing the music for the next one. We have to push on.

Tea tonight was another delicious leftover curry with naan bread. That’s the last of the naan bread dough so I’ll have to make some more on Sunday along with the pizza dough and the biscuits. I’m running short of those.

But that’s for Sunday. Now I’m off to bed.

But the gist of Rosemary’s discussion was the UK General Election which will take place on 4th July and which will figure in these pages in fuller detail over the next few weeks when a whole variety of MPs will be preparing to head for the hills with their ill-gotten gains from the Covid scandal.

But that’s nothing to laugh at. A Chinese guy was taunting me about the state of the UK. I told him "at least the UK can change its Government every five years. When was the last time you had an election?"
"Just before blekfast" he retorted.

Wednesday 15th May 2024 – AFTER YESTERDAY’S LITTLE …

… outburst, I’m still here. Alive and while I’m not quite kicking there’s been further improvement in my right hip. The pain’s not so bad and I’m raising my leg a little more. Getting dressed and undressed is not quite as complicated a struggle as it was.

But going back to my … errr … somewhat intemperate outburst last night, new readers of this rubbish, of which there are more than just a few these days, will be wondering why I don’t come along later and edit them out.

The fact is, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, that my mental health is as important as my physical health and it needs monitoring just the same. These remarks are an important gauge of how my mental health is doing and I need to make a note of it so that I can look back later and compare notes, to see how I’m doing over the long-term.

But despite how bad things were looking last night, "When your back’s against the wall it’s time to turn round and fight" as John Major once famously said. "Better counsel comes overnight" Said Gotthold Lessing and so I eventually wandered off to bed, nothing like as early as I was hoping.

It was however yet again another turbulent night with a phantom alarm call which I managed to almost ignore, and stayed in bed until the real alarm went off at 07:00.

At the time that it went off I was in Thailand living with a Thai family. Apparently I’d been extremely ill and was living there for some kind of rest and recuperation although I’ve no idea about any more than that. And what kind of rest and recuperation I’d get with a Thai family in Thailand is anyone’s guess

And despite having had a drink with my medication before retiring, I had a thirst that you could photograph this morning. My pint of flavoured water with the morning’s medication didn’t last long, I’ll tell you

The nurse came round as usual just as I was watching yesterday’s game in one of the English play-offs and we sorted out the dressing on my right foot followed by my puttees.

He’s not impressed at all with the condition of my lower legs and frankly, neither am I. I don’t think that this problem is going to be resolved quickly if at all.

After he left I finished off watching my football match . When I had time, good health and good rail connections, like when I lived in Leuven, I’d go ground-hopping around various football matches all over that area of Europe, but these days I have to go virtual ground-hopping on the internet.

It’s not an ideal situation but as Frank Harris said in his controversial biography MY LIFE AND LOVES, "all human beings took what pleasure they could get whenever they could get it"

Once the match had finished and I’d had my coffee and (last) slice of flapjack I actually started work. And with a leisurely stroll through what I had to do, and a sleep of an hour between 11:00 and 12:00 I’d actually finished it by mid-afternoon.

This morning’s sleep was rather different than it has been for the last few weeks in that I actually felt myself falling asleep and so simply let myself go with it. I drifted off quietly and gently into never-land rather than the brutal and abrupt way that it has been just recently.

While the cleaner was here I transcribed the dictaphone notes from the night. There was a phantom alarm at 03:45 again this morning. At that time I was doing something with a girls’ football team from Florida, maybe training them or something like that but as soon as I awoke everything that I was dreaming evaporated. I can hardly remember a thing about it now.

There was something else about me being involved in a girls’ football or rugby team again. I was negotiating with High Schools or maybe other colleges to fetch girls to the college to train them for either football or rugby. This seemed to go on for hours. I had a really good team at the end – I built a tank whereby the weight of clothes would dry yourself afterwards was quite complicated but much more rapid than the normal way so it might even become a household word by the time that our team stopped doing it when I was badly injured

But what is all this about me being involved in girls football and rugby teams? There is no conceivable way that I would ever be involved in a rugby team. A girls’ football team is slightly more likely, but only slightly. And why should it suddenly have become a recurring theme?

After my cleaner had left and I’d had my hot chocolate I had the usual call from the hospital asking how I was so I gave them both barrels. I don’t expect to hear anything back from them but we shall see.

What I did was to come in here and start the next radio programme. Well, “start” is a big word because much of the time was spent looking for music that I need that I don’t actually have

However I did end up having a Southern Rock-fest that ended with Neil Young playing ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER

As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I’m a big fan of Southern Rock, with lead guitar solos that can last sometimes several weeks. There was the Three Rivers Festival in Columbia, South Carolina where I managed to blag a way in with my little female Mexican friend to see Widespread Panic in 2005 which was exceptional, and for several reasons too.

Tea tonight was a delicious leftover curry that I really enjoyed, especially the naan bread that went with it. It’s a really good way to clear out the left-over food in the fridge

But right now I’m off to bed and hope for an even better day tomorrow. "dawn is ever the hope of men" said Aragorn in LORD OF THE RINGS and as long as I can get out of bed I’ll be OK.

Not like the guy who turned p two hours late for work
"What’s the meaning of this?" asked his boss
"It’s that new travelling alarm clock that the wife bought" he replied
"What about it"
"I left it on the bedside table last night" replied the man "but it must have set off on its travels during the night. It’s nowhere to be found this morning"

EPIC HALL

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

Tag Archives: naan

Wednesday 11th September 2024 – I HAD ANOTHER …

Wednesday 4th September 2024 – THERE HAVE BEEN …

Wednesday 28th August 2024 – MY GINGER CAKE …

Wednesday 21st August 2024 – "ONCE YOU START …"

Wednesday 14th August 2024 – SO THAT WAS..

Wednesday 7th August 2024 – HAVING TALKED LAST …

Wednesday 24th July 2024 – MY LITTLE COMMENT …

Friday 19th July 2024 – "SMILE!" THEY SAID.

Wednesday 3rd July 2024 – "A GENERAL ANAESTHETIC …"

Wednesday 26th June 2024 – WE HAVEN’T FINISHED …

Wednesday 19th June 2024 – SO THAT WAS …

Wednesday 29th May 2024 – IN THE MIDDLE …

Sunday 26th May 2024 – I CAN’T GO …

Wednesday 22nd May 2024 – I HAVE GONE …

Wednesday 15th May 2024 – AFTER YESTERDAY’S LITTLE …

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