Tag Archives: http://www.lesguis.com

Wednesday 16th October 2024 – I HAVE BEEN ..

… a very busy boy today.

And not only that, I’m a very clean busy boy too because I have had another shower today. And not only that either, but I have a lovely clean bed to dive into tonight because while I was soaking myself down, my faithful cleaner was changing the bedding on my bed and sweeping out the room.

Yes, this is a luxury to which I’m not all that accustomed. At this rate I shall be learning to become civilised, far too late to do me any good.

And while we’re on the subject of lateness … "well, one of us is" – ed … I was late again going to bed last night. Not by much, I have to say, but enough for me to complain about it – as if I don’t do enough complaining anyway.

In actual fact I’d finished fairly early and could I suppose have made the bed prior to 23:00 but instead I followed a few distractions to relax myself before I finally hit the hay. We’ve been studying different dialects in our Welsh class and she found an interesting article on the subject so she sent it to me.

The dialect that I know is rather confusing. My grandmother’s family came from Penrhiwceiber in South Wales, she grew up in the borderlands near Wrexham, I worked with a Welsh-speaking colleague from Caernarfon when I was on the buses in Crewe, I study with Coleg Cambria in Mold and I’ve been on Summer Schools in Gwent and Caerfyrddyn, and so I have a bit of everything.

Going off to sleep seems to be taking a little longer than in the past so the fairies had to loiter around for a little longer, but once I was gone, I was gone. I awoke once during the night round about 05:00 (yet again:) but soon went back to sleep again.

That seems to be quite a popular time to awaken. I wonder why it is. I know that I’m a very light sleeper but that time or thereabouts is just too regular to be a coincidence.

When the alarm went off at 07:00 I went off into the bathroom to have a really good scrub, and then came back in here to see what was on the dictaphone from the night. We’d set up a business with a couple of different people concerning an estate agency. We’d managed to secure a couple of clients and had gone into partnership with a couple of different people for a couple of different things. My partner was wondering about how progress was being made because we’d been away for a couple of weeks and there had been no contact. We went back to meet everyone again to see how things were. My partner wanted to make sure that nothing that we had done before we went away had been compromised. It was left to me to do the distasteful tasks of asking these other people who were in partnership with us. One guy said, rather offendedly, yes, he’d sold twenty-one apartments in the time that he’d been away but the two that we’d seen with him and organised, they hadn’t moved. Then he buttonholed my partner and asked “when are you going to come along and do this work that you promised?” so the two of them marched off somewhere. He was determined to make her work. In the meantime, the woman of another partnership with whom we’d gone into partnership at the beginning asked “when’s your partner going to deal with this examination and homework that we have to do? It’s already a week overdue now. I went with her we sat down, we each took a paper of this homework and she did one while I did the other. We then swapped papers to look at it and check each other’s work. I didn’t really know very much about what I was doing and was having to interpret it on the basis of what I’d seen in the question. That’s all I knew. It looked very common-sense to me but it was difficult for me to wrap my head around it because I didn’t know any of the technical terms however I did what I could and hopefully it was OK but the dream ended before we had the results of the checking by this other girl

“I didn’t really know very much about what I was doing” – that’s the story of my life, isn’t it? I seem to make it all up as I go along and hope for the best. When I rely on my intuition it works pretty much OK most of the time. Sometimes though I’ve had some spectacular successes but, on the other hand, once or twice I’ve had some miserable failures. Anyway, I’m far too old to change my ways now

Later on I’d been in the USA for some kind of work and was flying back to Canada but I’d looked in at a DiY shop on one occasion just before coming back and they had some 1.6Kw heater elements in there. There was also this beautiful kitchen unit in a flat pack. I looked at this kitchen unit and thought that it was lovely so I bought it. I bought my heater element then I realised that I couldn’t pick up the kitchen unit because it was too heavy so I took the obvious solution and just pushed it in its box. I pushed it all the way to the airport and all the way through the departure. It went into the hold of the ‘plane. When we arrived in Canada it was somehow with me on the ‘plane so I pushed it all the way through. Before leaving the USA I took this heater element and changed the plug on it for a Canadian plug. When I arrived back in Canada I left the ‘plane and pushed this through the airport, half expecting to be stopped at “Passports” but there was no-one on duty at Passport Control – we just pushed our way through into the main hall. I was there putting my things into some bags when someone came up to me and asked me why I’d changed this plug over to a different plug in the USA. I explained that I wanted it to work here in Canada. They asked “couldn’t you have waited until you arrived in France to do that? ”

Canadian plugs are the same as USA plugs, but let’s not bog ourselves down with trivialities. I would have loved to have worked in Canada but I was stuck in the “age gap”. Over 55 and you can’t have a work permit, and under 65 you can’t be a dependent. Now that I would qualify, I’m too ill to go. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that WHEN I WAS ON A BUS IN MONTREAL IN 2013 the driver of the bus had lived for years in Brussels and worked the route that I used to take to go to see Marianne. He encouraged me to apply for a job as a bus driver with the Montreal City bus company and reckoned that I’d be certain to be accepted, but I fell right into that age gap. I would have loved to have lived in Montreal although THE OLD FAMILY PILE IN DRAPER AVENUE in the Côte des Neiges has long-since been demolished and redeveloped. The only place our family still owns in Montreal is the six feet of earth in the Mount Royal Cemetery where the bones of my great grandfather lie.

The nurse today was quick and efficient and had very little to say for himself except the usual patronising remarks that get on my nerves. He soon cleared off and left me to make a start on breakfast.

As for reading matter, Old Sarum was the last place that we visited with Thomas Wright. I’m now on the annual report of the Woodthorpe Naturalists’ (not “naturists”, Rhys) Club from (thinks) 1867. Why that’s interesting was because the club was the organisation that pushed forward the idea of gathering mushrooms and this report was the first document to actually identify and catalogue the different types. It’s the mushroom gatherer’s bible.

After breakfast I tidied up in the kitchen and dining area for a while and then came in here. Firstly, there was football to watch. There had been a whole programme of matches last night in the Welsh Premier League, unfortunately not shown live but the highlights of every game were shown.

To be honest, I’m glad that they didn’t show Y Bala v Connah’s Quay live. The highlights ran for 1 minute and 37 seconds, and I counted two shots on goal. Y Drenewydd threw away a 2-goal lead to go down 4-2 against y Barri but the surprising scoreline was that Aberystwyth, dead and buried at the bottom of the table and now managerless, stuck four away from home against 3rd-placed Caernarfon. And of course, we had yet another “let’s play it out from the back, boys” moment too.

Then I started work. And busy boy that I am, not only did I finish off the notes for the next radio programme, I chose the music, paired it off and segued the pairs for the one after too. And even wrote some of the notes too

This next one is another complicated one too and it’s going to be so easy for me to find myself carried off on a tangent if I’m not careful. I’m not allowed to be partisan or adopt a polemic stance, so we’ll have to see how well I can control myself.

There were several interruptions too. Firstly there was lunch. And then there was the shower.

That means washing my socks and undies etc first. And then stripped down and put on my shorts. My faithful cleaner stood by in case I needed her and then, propped up with a crutch, I gave myself a good scrub down as best as I could, and it was wonderful.

There’s some kind of pivoting chair available to help me into the bath and it costs about €300. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that in March someone came here with one to try out, but chipped the bath, promised to come back, and I haven’t seen him since.

So €300 for that. My cleaner and I found that a dining room chair and two wooden boxes do the job just as well, and cost nothing.

While I was hosing myself down she was in here changing the bedding and brushing out my room. And it is nice. In fact it was a wonderful hour or so all told and I hope that I feel the benefit of it tonight, even though it’s going to be late yet again.

Once I was out of the shower and dressed, I had a sort-out of my travelling rucksack that I take when I have to go to hospital.

The reason is that I’m running low on my anti-cancer chemotherapy medicine. They gave me a prescription for that at Avranches the other day but it’s a strictly-controlled medication that can only be prescribed by certain consultants, and there are none at Avranches (which is why I go to Paris).

Anyway, the pharmacy rejected it so so I rang them at Paris.
"Didn’t the doctor give you a prescription when you came?" asked the secretary.
"Yes" I replied. "But that was in June, it was only for three months and now it’s run out"
"I mean, when you came just now"
"I haven’t been just now" I replied. "The last time that I came was in June. The doctor said that he’d call me back there for a biopsy at the end of August but I’ve heard nothing since June."
"But surely you … didn’t you? …You must have … Let me see …Can I call you back? I need to speak to the doctor"

As a result, I’m expecting a call to go to Paris some day very soon. God alone knows when ‘ll be able to fit it in. Dialysis, 30 sessions at the Centre de Re-education looming, a series of 30 sessions of physiotherapy waiting for a place. It’s worse than when I was at work.

That’s not all either. The post has been building up and there have been several bills to pay to the Government for one thing and another. So I was busy setting up accounts on the Fench Government web-page so that they can use direct debit to take payment.

The good news is that I’m entitled to a tax refund. It’s only e40:00 but it’s symbolic

After all of that I reckoned that I deserved my leftover curry and naan bread, followed by apple cake and coconut soya cream. Another excellent meal that I really enjoyed. Tomorrow I might try a slice of pie warmed up in the air fryer with potatoes, veg and gravy.

But that’s tomorrow. Tonight, late again, I’m off to bed, a nice clean me in a nice, clean bed.

But talking about mushrooms … "well, one of us is" – ed … reminds me of the man who went to the Marriage Bureau
"You’ve been married before" sad the interviewer
"Three times" said the client "but I’m a widower"
"I’m sorry to hear that" said the interviewer. "What happened to your first wife?"
"She died from eating poisoned mushrooms"
"Oh dear" said the interviewer. "And the second?"
"She died from eating poisoned mushrooms"
"And the third?"
"She died of a fractured skull"
"A fractured skull?"
"Yes" replied the client. "She wouldn’t eat the mushrooms"

0

Tuesday 15th October 2024 – AS YOU MIGHT …

… expect, last night was something of a disaster.

In fact, it was quite a disaster, if the truth was known. Wide awake at 04:00 drenched in perspiration, up and about at 05:00. Of course, I had dialysis yesterday. It seems to be every time I have dialysis that this happens.

What I’ll have to do is to talk to a doctor next time one of them comes to see me. I’ll have to see if it’s an anticipated side-effect or whether there’s something else going on.

If it’s Emilie the Cute Consultant, I can always request that she comes here to rock me to sleep but I imagine that if I were to ask for that I’d be told to clear off in the fashion that JAH Catton, editor of “Athletic News” described when discussing an outburst from Wales international goalkeeper Leigh Roose, as "not such as might be expected from a gentleman.".

But as long as they don’t give me a sleeping pill. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … the only excitement that I have these days takes place in bed while I’m asleep, and I wouldn’t miss that for anything.

You would think that that would be the trigger for me to rush to finish everything and dive into bed as early as possible, but somehow it doesn’t seem to work like that. Take last night, for example. I might have finished my work at a reasonable time, but then we had the battle to lift myself out of my chair.

Eventually though I made it into bed, later than I would have liked, and once again it took rather longer than it has done of late to go off to sleep.

My memory tells me that I awoke once during the night and went back to sleep almost straight away but by 04:00 that was that. I was wide awake, perspiring profusely from my legs, and no matter what I tried, I couldn’t go back to sleep.

In the end, at 05:00 I gave it up as a bad job and went to make myself a coffee and catch up with some personal stuff.

However, I had had a disaster. The toenail on the little toe on the right foot must have stuck in the bedding somehow and on leaving the bed I’d torn it off.

At first I hadn’t realised but I soon did, especially when I noticed the blood. Wrapping some tissue round it I staggered into the living and took one of the compress pads. I couldn’t reach to plaster it so I just wrapped it around the toe and hoped that it might stop the bleeding eventually.

There was some stuff on the dictaphone too, and that surprised me. No Castor, no Zero and no TOTGA either unfortunately, but several other people whom we all know and love and who are pretty close to me. It was the birthday of someone whom we all knew. Alison, Jackie, Liz, Terry and I had been amongst the invitees to go to his birthday party. We’d all chipped in and bought some kind of present, something that had a long stalk on it. They asked me if I’d write some poems. I wrote the poems and circulated them around. Everyone liked them but Jackie asked me “what was this event that took place in January?”. I couldn’t think of what it was at that point so I mad some kind of light-hearted comment. Liz ‘phoned me up and we were having a chat on the internet about this but suddenly it went dead, the conversation, right at a crucial moment. That’s the problem with the conversations on the internet – they go dead because someone comes to the door or you lose connection and you never know. eventually we were all assembled there. I presented the present to him which he gratefully received. Then I took it back because I’d fabricated some kind of grip for the stalk, made out of elasticated material. I put it on but it was too lose so I borrowed a needle and thread and began to sew it so that it was tighter. Everyone made a few comments so I told them that if anyone thinks that they could do it better, I’m only doing this by default so I’d gladly give up the place to someone else. No-one did so I carried on and was about halfway through it when the dream ended.

I’m impressed that I can discuss the issues about internet connections in my sleep. And sewing too. I can certainly sew in real life, and knit too, but when I’m asleep? Is there no end to my nocturnal talents?

And then later on I was with some people. They wanted me to take a caravan and trailer down to the South of France and into Italy. Although I was in principle agreed the first problem was that I didn’t have a car. They said that a car would be sorted out for me somehow so I didn’t say much until the very evening they produced this car. It was in a shocking state and it was impossible for me to even consider taking this, never mind towing a caravan and trailer behind it. There was some heated discussion about this and they proposed a variety of solutions which I rejected. In the end they produced a motor bike, a 350cc Triumph. I thought that this was the most absurd thing that I’d ever seen. I wondered where they had found the motor bike. It turned out that they had stolen it. All kinds of alarm bells were ringing for me at that point. The first thing that I said was “what about the insurance?”. There they were, rummaging through the papers in the side of this motor bike and they came across an insurance document. In the end, much against my better judgement, I was persuaded. We were in somewhere on the south of Manchester . We coupled up the caravan to the motor bike then coupled up the trailer to the back of the caravan. It would just about move it but I knew that it was all going to lead to a huge disaster. I thought that the first issue would be to take it over the Pennines, all of this, and I’ve no idea how I’m going to do that. I had a think and could remember how the major road system went. I thought that if I went a little way north I could probably pass over there somewhere towards Sheffield and then on the M1. I set out, but when I came to a road junction I heard someone shout “Phil Miller”. “Did you hear that?” and one of the other people said “yes”. I said “you know who Phil Miller is, don’t you?”. They replied “no”. “He was the keyboard player in ‘Caravan’. I wish that I had the time to go to say ‘hello’ to him”. They said “why don’t you go?”. I replied “don’t be silly. I have far too much on my plate at the moment with all of this”. We set off again. They were unhappy with the way that I crossed a certain road but I didn’t care. The further I went down this street heading out of this town the more I know that I was just coming closer and closer to disaster. This is all going to go wrong before too long.

Apart from having all these people on a motorcycle, it was Steve Miller who was the keyboard player in “Caravan”. Steve’s brother Phil was a guitarist who, although he guested on Caravan’s album WATERLOO LILY is much better know for his collaborations with Robert Wyatt. Nevertheless, it’s still quite impressive that I could come out with that. And regular readers of this rubbish will recall that when WE WERE IN NEWFOUNDLAND IN 2010 we encountered a car pulling a caravan pulling a trailer.

In case you’re wondering, by the way, the way to go south-east to the M1 is via Stoke on Trent and the A500 to Derby, but if I’m heading from the south of Manchester and want to keep away from traffic I’d go via Macclesfield and Leek, past my old stamping ground in 1975 of Bosley.

Having done a pile of work I stopped for a good wash and then waited for the nurse to appear.

He didn’t have much to say for himself, but he thinks that my left leg is almost back to normal so he’s going to try it today without any plasters to see if it holds out. And he put a small plaster on my toe where I’d torn off the nail. It had actually stopped bleeding but it’s better safe than sorry.

After a quick breakfast I came back in here and revised for my Welsh. And once again the lesson passed quite well and I enjoyed it. I was surprised at how much I could figure out, even if I didn’t understand everything. The key to understanding is not to understand and translate every word, but just to understand the gist of the conversation. I reckon that when you are having a conversation in your mother-tongue, you don’t hear three-quarters of the words that are spoken but you know what’s being said all the same.

No lunch today. I started work straight away and by the time I’d finished, not only had I chosen all of the music for the next programme, I’d written half of the notes too. And that was without really trying either

Once again, there was something that happened that made me realise that I must be feeling better than I have been for several months. That cheered me up a great deal too because I need to convince myself that I’m feeling better.

As for my chocolate cake, I had a slice with my hot chocolate this afternoon. And it really was delicious. The best cake that I gave ever made. But it was more done at the top than at the bottom. If only I could turn it over somehow and cook it upside-down for some of the time.

Tea tonight was a taco roll with rice, followed by apple cake and coconut-flavoured soya cream. That was delicious too and there’s no doubt – I might be eating simply but I really am eating well. If I ever lose my appetite or lose the will to cook then I will know that it’s the end.

So now it’s the end of my day and I’m off to catch up with my beauty sleep. And after last night I certainly need it. But then again I always do, especially with a dial like mine.

But before I go, I have been taken to task for what at least one person considers to be humour that really belongs in the gutter and not in a family-orientated web page
"Don’t you know what good, clean fun is?" I was asked.
"No" I replied. "What good is it?"

0

Wednesday 9th October 2024 – I DON’T KNOW …

… where all this energy is coming from, but I know where it’s going. I’m about three quarters of the way through tomorrow’s work already.

The way things are going, I’m beginning to wish that I’d had this dialysis a long time ago. It’s quite constraining of course but if I can keep on going like this, even in the short term, it might even be worth the disruption. I only wish that it wasn’t so painful.

But there’s one thing that can be said for it, and that was that with having finished everything at a reasonable hour last night I was in bed before 23:00. And that doesn’t happen very often.

It wasn’t long before I was away with the fairies either, although I did refrain from engaging in anything on which the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine might comment.

Asleep I stayed too for quite some considerable time, which was just as well given the events of the previous night. I’ve no idea what time it was that I awoke briefly, but I was soon back to sleep again.

It was a struggle to raise myself from the bed this morning when the alarm went off and I almost missed the second alarm. That would have been a cardinal sin, right enough.

In the bathroom I had a good scrub up and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was working on a car last night, a Ford Cortina MkI, changing the front wheel bearings. It was interesting to say the least watching me try to stand up after lying on the floor. I spent hours but I couldn’t set the adjustment of the wheel bearings correctly. In the end I set them to “something like” and gave up. While I was repairing it I was thinking “who’s going to fix Nerina’s car after I’ve died?” and “if the head gasket blows on this I’d have to go round to see my father but he’s really not likely to be interested – maybe after supper I think but I’m on the way of dying and I have to think about things like this”. While I was working there there was this young Chinese girl looking at me from out of a window. I thought to myself that sometimes it’s very nice to have an audience and maybe she does this kind of thing, watching people all the time – she might know (…fell asleep here …)

Back in the past I had a couple of Cortina Mk Is. The first one was great. Back in 1973 I was working for an insurance company and this car was a write-off. It had been hit in the front offside and was judged to be beyond economical repair. It was in our car park on its way to the scrapyard and owed the company £12:50. Nevertheless it was taxed and MoT’d for seven months so I bought it, patched it up with body-filler, stuck a headlight in the mess and ran it. When the MoT ran out and it wouldn’t pass the next, I loaded a friend and her baby into the car and drove it to the scrapyard to weigh it in. The owner looked at me, looked at the girl, looked at the baby and said “I’m terribly sorry son. I can’t give you any more than £15:00 for this”.

As for having my father fix my car, the highlight of my life was my father once asking me if I’d fix his because he couldn’t manage to do it. I treasured that moment for years.

Later on I found a job working in an Old People’s Home thanks to an agency. I had to start at 08:00 so I set out at 07:40 and parked where I thought this Home was. It turned out to be a big, expensive hotel so I roamed around for a couple of minutes and couldn’t find anything. Somehow I ended up in the basement and asked one of the personnel there behind the desk. He took me to the fire door, opened it and pointed to a building and said “it’s that one” so I set out to walk. It was much further than I anticipated. When I reached the building I went in. The ground floor was like a storage area. There was a couple of people wandering around so I asked them. They said that the Old People’s Home is further up. I looked around but there was no lift so I thought “how do these old people leave if they want to go for a walk or go out in a wheelchair?”. I walked up two flights of stairs – I was walking quite easily. I finally found the Old Peoples Home and the reception desk where they were very pleased to see me, saying “oh good, you’re here at last”. I thought about whether I should recount my adventures to them but I decided against it.

As if I’m ever likely to be working in an Old Person’s Home. But strangely enough, even though I can’t remember anything about the dream itself, I can still see the buildings. The hotel was a huge chalet-roofed place on the type in which I’ve stayed at Lech in Austria. Lech of course was a small town in Austria through which we drove on our honeymoon on our way to see Nerina’s relatives in Milan. It was such a beautiful town that we vowed to go back there again. I don’t know if Nerina ever made it back but as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I’ve been back there ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS and of course, it is the favourite town in Europe OF STRAWBERRY MOOSE where he runs A TAXI SERVICE advertising his favourite hobby.

Isabelle the nurse came along and took a blood sample from me. Hit the vein straight away, totally painless and no drama either. She has “the touch”, quite unlike her colleague, so it’s no surprise that she gets to take all of the samples. Everyone waits until its her turn on the rota before they ask for their blood samples to be taken.

After she left I made breakfast and then read MY BOOK. Today we’re wandering around Aldborough in North Yorkshire and looking at the remains of the Roman town of Isurium. What’s interesting is that back in the 1850s there wasn’t a railway station anywhere near the town so he and his friends thought absolutely nothing of alighting from the train at the nearest railway station and walking several miles to the town and then back again later. These people were obviously made of sterner stuff than people today.

It’s also interesting that, in the days before preservation and museums, many of the householders who had uncovered mosaic floors in their gardens were quite happily exhibiting them, “price sixpence” but, as he says, "as all these inscriptions have followed each other within a few paces , we shall become alarmed at the expensive character which a visit to it is likely soon to assume , if an additional sixpence is to be levied on every fragment of building that turns up . The remains indicated by these inscriptions are so far , however, of sufficient interest to repay the visitor for the small sum demanded for showing them ."

Back in here I attacked the outstanding notes for the radio programme that I was preparing yesterday and now these are completed and ready for dictation on Saturday night.

That meant a stop for lunch – a slice of flapjack and some fruit. The supplies of fruit are running low so tomorrow I’ll have to think about preparing a supermarket order for Friday afternoon

This afternoon, having completed the day’s work already, I was planning on relaxing but instead I had a fit of enthusiasm again and carried on working.

Sometime next year, the International Day of Refugees falls on a day that my programme will be broadcast, and you’d be surprised just how many refugees there are in rock music

Edgar Froese and Johannes Krauledat fled from the Russians in Tilsit in the same column of refugees as my friend Lorna’s mother. Holger Czukay was expelled from Danzig, the parents of Gary Weinrib and Chaim Witz were survivors of Auschwitz and Belsen, Cait O’Riordan fled from Nigeria, and that’s just a handful of names.

It seems to me that a programme of music recorded by refugees would be a good idea for a programme. So accordingly I’ve been tracking down music recorded by refugees or their offspring and I’m now at the stage where I’m pairing it off and segueing it

That was tomorrow’s task but I’ll finish it off and start to write the notes. If I can finish early on Friday I’ll have a couple of hours off which will be nice.

During the proceedings my cleaner arrived and she helped me have a shower. I had a good idea too – if one wooden box on the chair made things easier, two boxes would make it easier still. And so it was too. I could swing into the bath with a lot fewer problems.

You have no idea just how wonderful it is to be under a shower after all this time. I really do feel so much better and so much happier with having had a good soak. Just wait until I’m downstairs and I have my walk-in shower

There was an interruption for the hot chocolate and coconut cake of course, after which I made a batch of dough for the garlic naan.

Tea tonight was a leftover curry of course, with rice, veg and a naan bread, delicious as usual. In fact it was one of the best that I’ve mad. The naan was cooked to perfection, for once in my life. The rest of the dough is rolled up into individual balls and stuck in the freezer for the future.

So now I’m off to bed for some beauty sleep before my trip to the Dialysis Centre tomorrow

But the story of the admission fees reminds me of the time that the public conveniences on Crewe Bus Station were built. There was an official inspection followed by a guided tour for the public.
The leaflet that was prepared to announce the showing proudly advertise the price "two shillings and sixpence – or two shillings and sevenpence if you want to see all of it"

0

Saturday 14th September 2024 – SO THAT’S DAY …

… two of the rest of my life in the dialysis ward sorted out.

And to my surprise, apparently I’m something of a celebrity. The doctor in charge of the dialysis department listens to my rock programmes on the radio and has told the rest of the clinic who I am.

We’re not at the stage where people are asking for my autograph or where I’m being besieged by groupies (more the pity) but still ….

That’s the advantage of living in a small place – it’s much more fun being a big fish in a small pond than it is being a small fish in a big pond (or maybe talking about fish, I should have said “place”). I’m not cut out to be a city-dweller

Another thing that I’m not cut out for is going to bed early. It was another horribly late night last night, but that’s because the Highlights (if you can call it that) of Y Bala v Aberystwyth.

Over the last few seasons Aberystwyth have been getting worse and worse. They narrowly escaped relegation two years ago, and it was only an administration issue affecting Pontypridd United that saved them last season.

This season, slugging it out with Y Fflint for the other relegation place alongside LLansawel, they are doing badly and were swept aside by Y Bala last night. In fact the highlights had them in the Bala half just once

It’s a good job that it wasn’t the live match this weekend because it would have been painful to watch, I reckon.

So I was soon in bed after the final whistle and once more I didn’t need much rocking before I disappeared into the ether.

Just one or two brief awakenings but I went back to sleep almost straight away and there I stayed (for a change) until the alarm went off.

In the bathroom I had a good wash, a shave and a change of clothes. After all, at the Dialysis Ward I might even meet Emile The Cute Consultant so must look my best.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. We were working for a Sports Radio. There was an apartment available to let and we’d been asked to show some people round it. It was only a single-roomed apartment, bedsit-type of place that doesn’t take much showing around. The guy who came to look at it was extremely interested even though it was untidy and dirty. He asked a few questions about the gas fire, whether it was connected to the mains and whether it was a good connection. While I was poking around in there having a look I came across firstly another key which had presumably been left down underneath the fire and some money too, some Euros and some £5 notes totalling (thinks) €30:00 and £10:00. There was something about this €30:00 but I can’t remember what it is. There was certainly rather more to this dream but I can’t recall it. The guy was extremely interested in this place. Finding the key and the money was the icing on the cake as far as he was concerned but the place was dirty and needed a really good clean-up after the previous tenant had left. It looked like the person smoked and there was cigarette ash everywhere.

And in a minute I’ll tell you a funny story about a Sports Radio. But finding stuff hidden under the gas fire is one thing, but it’s not where I would have hidden it. In the book of THE MALTESE FALCON Sam Spade hid the falcon in the ice compartment of his refrigerator

A friend of mine from Chester was talking about the collieries at Llay. It turned out that that was where a friend from school had gone to work. He said that it was his first real job and his last one too because the colliery had closed down. It was just over the Christmas period and never reopened. The people knew that it was closing but the fact that they didn’t reopen it after Christmas showed that they had changed the plans without communicating this to the workforce. The workforce was of course all laid off, part of the industrial desolation in North Wales. The site was left to rot for several years but eventually it was cleared away in some kind of demolition control. The Wrexham Maelor Council was left to look after what was left of the property. The site was now some kind of industrial estate. My schoolfriend said “why don’t we go to have a look at it?”. I thought that this was something that we should have done a long time ago, many years ago, but I suppose that now as as good a time as any. It would have been nice to have been there fifteen years ago when it was working but you can’t have everything

Llay has been in the news over the summer. The local football club won promotion to Wales’s second tier in dramatic circumstances. The name of the club, Llay Miners Welfare FC, recalls the days when there were collieries in the area. And if the family Bible is anything to go by, my grandmother’s people came from Penrhiwceiber in South Wales and likely came north when there was a wave of pit openings in the early years of the 20th Century.

But there’s another question. I rescued her Bible from a skip where it had been thrown after her bungalow was cleared out. Who’s going to rescue it when my apartment is cleared out after I’ve gone? Apart from the fact that it has her family tree in it, it’s actually one of the rare Bibles that was written in Welsh

I dreamed that some woman had come into my bedroom and began to lick and hug my door. She said that she was my teacher but I didn’t recognise her from school at all

And what on earth is that all about? Women coming into my room and licking and hugging my door? Obviously I’m not famous enough yet despite what goes on in the clinic and I’ll have to work hard at that.

There was also a dream about two German women coming out of a cafe. One of them was saying to the other about her daughter can stay with her for a couple of days and then return home, then her son could go to stay with her too. This woman was something to do with the German military. The subject came up about a motorbike somewhere in a town along the Rhine. The woman wondered if it would be suitable for her son so she went to ask some kind of German officer if she would borrow some kind of transport to go down to pick it up but the German officer was not impressed at all and told her that he’d already said in the past that she’s not allowed to borrow any transport for this kind of purpose

That’s not very relevant to anything at all that I can think of. I’m clearly losing my grip.

When the nurse came, she sorted out my puttees (which fell down again later), issued an order for supplies and tried her best to give me some encouragement for this afternoon. I asked her what time I should apply the anaesthetic patches and she told me to ring the hospital

And it’s a good job that I did because they didn’t have me down to come and they hadn’t therefore booked the taxi to bring me

And then I could finally make breakfast and read my book. And do you know? I can’t remember what it was that I read today

After breakfast I watched that new Sports programme showing the highlights of Newport City’s game last night. And the reporter "and (the ‘keeper) hangs onto the ball like my missus hangs on to an Easter egg" .

That’s my style of commentating so I sent the commentator a mail of encouragement and we struck up quite a conversation

There was some photocopying to be done so I attended to that, interrupted by my loyal cleaner. She’d brought up the post and was going to apply the anaesthetic patches.

The post had some good news, for me and for her. That Society that deals with personal autonomy who came to see me the other week considers that I need at least 13 hours of assistance per month (instead of the current 8) and will give me a grant for the extra hours.

One of the tasks for which I need assistance apparently is “moral support” – although what moral support I can have in 13 hours is a matter of debate.

The taxi came and whisked me off to Avranches. The driver was a rocker and so we had rock music all the way which made a nice change.

And who should be on duty today at the Dialysis Centre but Emilie The Cute Consultant. It really was my lucky day.

Today I was in the public ward where it was rather warmer but I was still stretched out on a bed and thus unable to work

Instead I carried on reading Colonel Carrington’s reports about life on his frontier post “across the lines” in Indian Territory. And we reached a crucial point in the narrative today.

He’s been accused by his own junior officers of timidity in confronting the Native Americans but it’s clear in that sending troops to the forest to bring trees back to build the stockade, to cut planks to make the buildings etc, he doesn’t have the time or the resources to go on the offensive.

However, one of his subordinates takes a couple of troops, totalling 80 or so men, on an independent command and disobeying all his clear orders, goes in an impetuous chase of a party of natives.

It goes without saying that this group of natives is just an advance guard for an ambush, and of all the palefaces, there’s not even one survivor.

When we were there IN 2019 and walked across the battlefield, you could see just how ideal it was for an ambush

Carrington noticed it too when he went to retrieve the bodies, and in his notes he describes – in lurid, gruesome detail – the mutilations that they had suffered, many of which had been committed while the victims were likely still alive.

When they were disconnecting me and unplugging me, they talked about my “unwillingness” to become involved in the more gruesome parts of this dialysis procedure.

They talked about sending the psychiatrist to see me and asked if I would like that. Well, apart from the fact that I think that anyone who wants to see a psychiatrist needs his head examined, I am actually quite comfortable with my problems. And if anyone can help me overcome them it won’t be a trick cyclist. I shall have to do it myself.

It was a silent drive back here with a very taciturn chauffeur, and then my cleaner watched as I fought my way upstairs alone

And Rosemary had sent me a message. She tells me that this morning she saw the snow on the Puy de Sancy. Winter’s on the way already.

Having mentioned Aberystwyth’s disaster last night, it’s even worse because Y Fflint surprisingly beat Hwlffordd this afternoon to pull away up the table.

Tea was, for a change, a burger on a bun. It’s been a while since I’d had one of those, made with the stuff that my friend in Munich had sent me ages ago. I’d made it up and then frozen the burgers to use bit by bit.

And my roly poly was delicious too.

So now I’m off to bed – when I’ve dictated the radio notes that I’ve written during the week. High time I went back to work

But on this psychiatry thing, the last time I was there they gave me the Rorschach test
The psychiatrist showed me a photo of an ink-stain and asked "what’s this?"
"Rorschach test image number six" I replied
"Ohh come on" he urged. "Be serious"
"OK" I said. "It’s a loaf of bread"
"And this?"
"A dragonfly"
"And this?"
"An octopus"
"And this?"
"Eeeuurrgg" I shuddered. "That’s an evil parasite that sucks out the lifeblood of human beings and gorges itself on their energy and shrinks the willpower …"
The psychiatrist looked at the card. "I’m very sorry" he said. "But that’s a photo of my wife"
"But was I close?"
"You were close"

0

Thursday 12th September 2024 – I CAN’T EVER FORGET …

… my friend’s daughter who, on being told that what she was going through for the first time at 11 years old was what she’ll be going through every four weeks for the next forty years, stormed upstairs in a fury and slammed her bedroom door in a fit of pre-teen angst .

And now I know exactly how she must have been feeling, after having gone through what I’ve gone through today and knowing that I’ll be doing it three times per week for the rest of my life.

They said that it would make me feel better, but I’m hardly running around like a spring chicken right now.

“It takes time” they tell me, but how much time do I have?

Not enough last night, apparently. I eschewed a trip out around Central Scotland with one of my groundhopping friends and was in bed relatively early. And asleep quite quickly too, which seems to be becoming a habit these days.

However I awoke not long after 06:00, and couldn’t go back to sleep. By 06:45 I had totally given up the idea and was so wide awake that I arose from the Dead a good 15 minutes before the alarm, not something that happens every day.

In the bathroom I had a good wash and scrub up, changed my undies and washed the previous pair in the sink. I must keep on top of things otherwise it will all let go and I’ll have no idea where I am.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. There was an athletics meeting taking place, a World Championships of some description. I was working as a driver. At one stage I had three people in my car, a couple of girls and a guy taking them from one place to another venue. One of them was actually talking about staying illegally in the UK because he had no passport or his passport had expired. The story he was telling was how he was staying with his aunt and how she had left sounded so fishy that it was unbelievable, the type that you hear every day from thousands of people, exactly the same. He was asking about going to Canada and whether he’s receive asylum there. The Canadian girl was very suspicious and was giving very guarded answers. It was all extremely complicated. When I reached my destination I unloaded my three passengers and stayed to listen to the news. They were talking about them on the radio saying that they’d absolutely loused up the first leg of their athletics tournament and so they had been sent away somewhere off-campus to a private room out of the way of the media where they could rebuild their confidence etc ready for the second round of the event. The radio was saying how this was a good thing to do in the circumstances of these three people. But I was listening to these stories and was just extremely suspicious about them all. I was sure that there was far more to it than just a simple “take them out of the public eye for a couple of hours”. It was one of the most suspicious things that I’ve ever encountered

And believe me, in my life I have encountered a great many suspicious things. I have had something of a chequered life in a couple of previous existences and one of these days I might actually say something about it. However, I have to be mindful of the fact that the UK is one of these countries that has a very minimal Statute of Limitations.

And then we were discussing the situation at Celtic where the manager had left, a new manager had come in and there was a lot of turbulence around there with players openly talking about leaving the club. One of them was interviewed on TV and was discussing it. It turns out that another one was released over twelve months ago and has yet to find a new club. I said “surely he can find a job working on a building site or something like that and play part-time to keep fit. I could find him a job tomorrow”. I told him of a job that I knew was going. Whoever it was to whom I was talking was some elative of his and said “I want him much fitter than that. He’s 29”. The discussion continued and it was extremely interesting that I’d dreamed that Rodgers had left Celtic and they had a new foreign manager

So why would I be interested in Brendan Rodgers and Glasgow Celtic? It’s not the usual kind of topic that is forever on my mind. Not at all.

The nurse came in to see me later to apply my puttees (which fell down later). She gave me the copies of my prescriptions that she’d photocopied and also gave me some other paperwork that the clinic wants to see. She wanted to tell me what was going to happen but I didn’t want to know.

My faithful cleaner had been past too and dropped off the unused injections for me to take. Apparently they put a blood-thinning product in the mix when I’m being dialysed so they’ll start with my injections, so as to use them up

After everyone had left, I made breakfast and read my book on ROMANS IN BRITAIN.

We’re discussing Roman Roads at the moment but I’m thinking about the camps at Caersws and Caerhun that we’ve seen on those aerial maps.

When our author was writing his book, it was 1923, a long time before the advent of aerial photography and aerial mapping, something pioneered by Sidney Cotton (inventor of the “Sidcot” flying suit), whose steps we stood in IN NEWFOUNDLAND, when he came to the UK in the late 1930s.

So we can see these things quite clearly thanks to Cotton and those who followed in his footsteps … "or vapour trail" – ed …, but these people in 1923 when they were writing these books had no idea of aerial photography, so what they were able to discover and identify is really quite astonishing.

After breakfast I had to telephone the bank in Belgium. There have been payment issues with a card and I ned to check. But it wasn’t any use. According to the bank they don’t have any marker at all on the card and it should work fine.

We shall see.

What was left of the morning was spent backing up the big computer onto the memory stick on my keyring, and I ran out of time because the taxi came early for me.

There was someone else to pick up and then off we set, two passengers and the taxi driver from Hell, to Avranches. If they give me a blood pressure test as soon as we arrive they’ll have a shock.

When we arrived, there I was struggling along on my crutches so they took me to the cubicle the farthest away from the door.

They slapped a few anaesthetic patches on my arm and then we went through a pile of paperwork and forms. Then they gave me an injection and I closed my eyes as they did what they had to.

All I did was to lie there in bed. They had all the windows open and the air conditioning going full tilt and I was freezing. So much so that I couldn’t concentrate on any work at all – and that’s something that I’ll have to sort out.

Instead I read the report of Colonel Carrington about life at Fort Phil Kearny, which was permanently under siege by the native Americans and the site of which WE VISITED IN 2019. Now THAT’s what I call an interesting document.

There were also times when I drifted away with the fairies and on one of my little trips Roxanne came to see me and I remember distinctly kissing her cheek.

They eventually uncoupled me and I had to wait around for half an hour while they checked that the joint would close correctly. And FINALLY I could go to the bathroom – and not before time. And with my puttees around my ankles.

There were three taxi drivers waiting in the foyer so I asked "who’s drawn the short straw?" and one driver knew exactly what I meant.

We had another person and so the return trip home, much more sedately this time, went via the Centre Normandy to drop him off.

My cleaner was waiting but she stood and watched as I hauled myself up the stairs without help. It’s a struggle, but it works.

There’s no bread so I made another loaf. And in a wild fit of enthusiasm I made a jam roly-poly.

That was easy – make half a bread mix, after it’s risen, roll it out flat and rectangular, coat it with Jacqueline’s lovely home-made jam, sprinkle some desiccated coconut and raisins, and then roll it up, sprinkle with icing sugar and bake it in the other side of the oven while the loaf is a-doing.

While all that was going on I made tea – a burger from what’s left of the European Burger Mountain with pasta and veg done in tomato sauce

But now I’m off to bed and I’ll tell you tomorrow how the bread and roly poly have come out.

However, I started this entry today talking about repetitive tasks. And that reminds me of a Trades Union meeting that I attended years ago to discuss new work proposals
"We have agreed" said a negotiator "a 10% pay-rise, an extra week’s holiday, a Christmas bonus, and as from now on, we only have to work on Wednesdays"
"What?" howled a discontented voice. "Every bloody Wednesday?"

0

Friday 6th September 2024 – SO THAT’S THE …

… end of this long series of Welsh-language Summer Schools for another year.

And I can’t say that I’m sorry because my head has turned to porridge or some such like. You’ve no idea just how much it takes out of you having to work like this

When you reach “a certain age” it’s not just your body that slows down. Your brain does too and if you don’t keep exercising your brain it tends to stick, just as your other muscles do if you don’t exercise them

It’s important therefore that you do what you can to keep your brain ticking over somehow or other and this series of Welsh-language courses is my way to go.

Previously I was registered with Oxford University’s series of continuing courses as well as the “OpenLearn” project and I learned some interesting things. But the study wasn’t really a formal study in any sense of the word, even if I did enjoy that course on translating Roman gravestone inscriptions

So formal study it is – and was throughout this Summer but now I’m going to sit with my feet up and relax until … errr … Tuesday, when the 5th Year of my Welsh course begins. Just this year and next year to go and I’ll be ‘O’ Level standard.

That is, in theory. Despite all of the courses on which I’ve enrolled I still feel as if I’m miles off the pace. I can understand just how Homer Simpson was feeling when he said "every time I learn something new, it pushes something old out".

But anyway, be that as it may, I had another late night last night. One of my groundhoppers, about whom I’ve spoken in the past, was out and about. He had been to Heriot-Watt University to watch them take on Arniston Rangers in the East of Scotland League.

He’s not a very good commentator and could benefit from learning a few of the rules regarding refereeing, but he goes to some interesting places and makes a good video. I had to stay up and watch the game

Eventually I managed to take myself off to bed, much later than I should have done, and was asleep quite quickly.

And there I stayed until about 06:20 with hardly moving a muscle. And then it was tossing and turning about until 07:00 when the alarm went off and I could haul myself off into the bathroom.

There wasn’t much that I needed to do or felt like doing at that time of the morning and I was soon back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was playing in a rock group. One of the songs that we were singing was THE RAIN SONG by Led Zeppelin. One day we began to dissect the song phrase by phrase, line by line to examine it to try to find out exactly what it meant. As we delved deeply into the song we found that it began to mean quite a lot that we hadn’t realised and hadn’t understood at all at the time. It was much more of an anthem than quite simply a song. There were a great many phrases in there that could be changed to give a completely different meaning so we experimented with some and swapped some round, put the emphasis on different words to see exactly what would happen to the song

You’ll be surprised just how many songs there are that talk about the rain. One of these days I ought to make a list and maybe even a radio programme. But it’s true that the Led Zeppelin song isn’t really about the rain at all if you look carefully at the lyrics. “The rain” is symbolic of bad luck and sadness.

I was attending University somewhere and had gone for a walk around the campus. There were several building with machines inviting you to play them. One particular building had a big embankment around it that effectively sealed it off from the rest of the University. Instead of going all the way around the path I decided to take a short cut by walking around the back of this building and climbing up the mound over the top and down the other side. The mound was much, much steeper than I thought and full of abandoned cigarette ends. When I reached the top I was spellbound by the view. It was like seeing the Sacré Coeur church for the very first time perched on the horizon. Behind me on the horizon was the spot on the high road where I’d stopped many times to take a photo of it but I’d never ever seen it from down here in the valley from the top of this mound. It looked so impressive that I wondered why I’d never come by this way before and why this view had never been shown to the public because it was really one of the best views that I had ever seen

And while it’s not exactly the Sacré Coeur, which is actually situated on top of a ridge on the edge of Brussels, the church that I saw during the night was L’Oratoire de St Joseph situated on its ridge in Montreal not too far from the Snowdon Metro Station. Where it is, it’s clearly visible for mines around and it so intrigued us as we kept on passing it at a distance that in 2013 WE FINALLY WENT TO VISIT IT. Those were the days when we used to get out and about at the drop of a hat at the slightest excuse. These days, even going to the bathroom has become a major expedition involving native bearers, well-versed local guides and the attendance of a registered nurse. What kind of state am I in?

At one time or another there was Pete Townshend’s son who was wearing scruffy clothes and drifting around from place to place but Pete Townshend suddenly decided to have a word with him to make him wear more respectable clothes and make him adopt a much more professional and personal attitude towards life, which didn’t go down very well at first but slowly the son began to take it all on board.

As if Pete Townshend would ever be interested in people being more respectable? Mind you I can tell you some stories …

The nurse was quite chatty this morning. He seems to have calmed down quite a lot from our eruption and explosion the other day and if he keeps up with the improvement he might become quite human. Apparently the clinic where I’m likely to be dialysed has been in contact with him. Things seem to be moving rapidly these days

After he left I went for the final day of my course. And it didn’t go as well as the other days which is a shame. I think that I’ve become saturated now.

When it was over I breathed a sigh of relief. I went into my nice clean kitchen – clean because the cleaner had been – and found that my course book for the forthcoming year has now arrived. So it’s “all systems go” starting on Tuesday.

Except that I have a hospital appointment on Tuesday afternoon, and so I had to ring up to book myself a taxi to take me there.

Rosemary had rung me and I’d promised to ‘phone her back but after my hot chocolate I came back in here and regrettably fell asleep, totally exhausted. I forgot to ‘phone her so there will be a red face tomorrow when I call her back

Tea was falafel and chips with a very tired salad. My lettuce don’t seem to keep too well, not even in the fridge which is a shame. However, when I move I shall buy a big, decent, proper fridge and start again from Square One with my food storage activities.

And so that’s it for today. I’m off to bed now if there’s nothing else going on. I’m totally exhausted after all of this.

But as Led Zeppelin said, “Upon us all a little rain must fall”. But not upon all of us equally
"The rain falls down upon the just
And also un the unjust fellow
But mostly on the just because
The unjust steals the just’s umbrella"

0

Monday 8th July 2024 – IT’S GOING TO …

… be another horrible, miserable, depressing late night going to bed tonight.

But at least it’s not been a waste of time and something good has come of it because I whizzed through this evening and not only edited the remaining sound file from those that I dictated on Saturday night, I’ve assembled the programme.

All that remains to do is to choose the final track and write the notes for it, and that’s a job that I can do tomorrow morning.

It’s quite strange really, because the sound file was one of the longest that I’ve ever dictated yet when I’ve edited out all of the umms and ahhs and the bits that were rubbish, it edited down to be one of the shortest. There are some things that are quite difficult to explain.

It was a late night last night too. I wasn’t in bed much before midnight and that’s not much good at all. I awoke at about 05:15 too and valiantly resisted the temptation to raise myself from the dead at that time.

When it came round to about 06:00 I thought “give it another five minutes ….” and the next thing that I knew, the 07:00 alarm was going off. And that was a mystery too. What happened there?

After I’d had a good wash and complete change of clothes I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone notes to find out where I’d been during the night and, more importantly, if any of my favourite young ladies had come with me.

But no such luck last night. “Swansong” in the Sports pages refers to the goalkeeper who was selected for the national team – the women’s national team, with selection issues about form etc, loss of form, new brooms sweeping clean and all this kind of thing it was necessary to find another keeper to join the National squad as first choice and she was it. At 38 years of age it was only a temporary solution while other players sort themselves out. But it was the best available at the time. It might have been unpopular but sometimes popularity is the wrong thing to do. You don’t do things for popularity you do things for success. Sometimes, for success, you have to do things like this but we’ll see where she is in two seasons and see who’s taken her place amongst this crowd of people who are almost there but not quite at the moment.

And what do I know about women’s football? My first encounter with it was AT BURLINGTON IN VERMONT IN 2015 and I might have seen the odd match since then, but I’m hardly an expert. However, Jocelyne Montoya of one of these Mexican women’s teams can come and take a throw-in with one of my footballs any time she likes.

And then later we were all at work discussing the working arrangements for the next week or so. I’d been driving a snooker player around for a week. He was someone who had been very famous but had fallen on hard times and had been extremely wayward but had slowly been dragged back onto track again. I’d been driving him around but I’d not had any instructions for the coming week so we were all in the office waiting for things to happen and for someone to come along with a work schedule. A couple of my colleagues came in and asked me why I wasn’t at the top end of the town. I asked why so they replied “your snooker player is up there looking for someone or other”. They had a huge discussion about this snooker player. I mentioned that I’d driven him last week and tried to keep him on track for all his appointments, matches etc. One or two people said “yes it’s a shame that he didn’t think about engaging you earlier because you’d been sure to have made him at least conscious of these things” which I thought was probably one of the nicest compliments anyone in that place had ever paid me. So even though no work schedule was down I had to quickly discuss where this snooker player was and then decide to nip in the car to catch him to see what his plans were for the week and maybe fit in with his anyway and do the work that he wants doing, especially as he seems to be so keen to see me around according to my colleagues, which again I thought was a pretty nice comment from someone like that.

Yes, compliments were rather thin on the ground in that place. Everything was done on the basis of “dead man’s shoes” gallantly resisting all attempts to bring things kicking and screaming into the 21st Century. Trying to reorganise things there to be more efficient, I was met with "and what do you know about it?"
So saying nothing, next time that I was out I stopped at a stationer’s and bought some picture frames. That night I framed all of my taxi operators’ licences and my Certificates of Professional Competence (issued, would you believe, by my Employer) to operate a Road Passenger Transport business in the UK and in Europe, and next morning, hung them on the wall over my desk.
No-one in that office spoke to me again after that and a few months later when my boss’s office was moved to a different building it was "wouldn’t it be a good idea if you went to be based in ‘Kortenberg’ with him instead of down here?"
"Suits me fine, thanks."

But what I don’t understand is why there is a snooker player in the middle of all of this.

When the nurse came round he sorted me out and bandaged me up and then asked for my advice. He’s off to Brussels to see a concert t the Stadion Roi Baudoin and wanted to know where to park. Where I lived was about 20 minutes from there and there’s plenty of parking. And if he plays his cards right, there’s a bus that runs between the hospital at Jette and the Metro Station at the Stadion Roi Baudouin that goes along the road where he’ll be parked. Where I lived in Jette was really good. 200 yards from an exit on the Brussels by-pass and surrounded by public transport going just about everywhere, bus, tram, train, you name it.

After he left I had breakfast and then began to prepare for my Welsh Summer School that starts today. We are 10 students and a tutor, a tutor whom I’ve had before on some summer school or other. He’s sent us a little booklet of his plans but I bet that we’ll be a long way from there by the time that we finish.

It’s actually a level below the one that I was studying in the year just finished but it doesn’t hurt to go over stuff that I’m supposed to have learned and to know. And I’m not the only one doing a “revision course”.

The way I see it, if you throw a lot of whatsit at a wherever, some of it might stick at some point.

No prizes by the way for guessing who fell asleep at one point and sat there staring into space when he should have been in a break-out room. D’ohhh!

After the end of the lessons today I cracked on with the radio programme. I wanted to at least finish the editing. I could have done more too but I ran out of bread and had to make another loaf. I took full advantage of the oven being on by baking tonight’s stuffed pepper and making a pasta-bake, although that wasn’t very successful

That took me back a while. A friend of mine and his wife in the USA were so hung over one New Year’s Morning that they stayed in bed all day and their two kids were starving. I was there giving instructions over the internet on a messenger program to Tina, the 11 year old, on how to make a pasta and tuna bake in the oven

Anyway, that’ll have to do for now. I’ve been another busy boy today, following on from being rushed off my feet yesterday. Can I go for the hat trick tomorrow or will I be spending most of the day flaked out and recovering? It remains to be seen.

But thinking of Tina trying to awaken her parents reminds me of the girl who once asked me "do you wake up grumpy in the morning?"
And I replied "actually, she’s usually awake before me"

0

Saturday 29th June 2024 – SO FAR TODAY …

… I’ve managed to avoid falling over. However, the night is young and there’s still plenty of time yet to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

And defeat? They are the things inside de slippers of course!

There has been plenty of the day to go at too. More than usual, in fact, because once more I was up and about at an ungodly hour long before the alarm went off. I’ve no idea why that would be because, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, it’s not like me at all.

It was a late night too. The other night when I was in bed before 23:00 must have been a fluke, that’s all I can cay because much as I would like that to be my target time, it’s pretty much unattainable right now and that’s something else that I can’t understand. Where does all the time go?

So last night after my misadventures on the kitchen floor I crawled off to bed late as usual as I mentioned and for a change it took a while for me to go off to sleep. After my fall you could probably say that I was shaken and not stirred.

Round about 05:00 – 05:30 I sat up, bolt upright, wide awake, and try as I might, I couldn’t go back to sleep. Just like yesterday morning too.

After lying awake for a while trying to drop off, I abandoned the struggle and took to my feet, a little more steady than last night, it has to be said. I sorted out some clean clothes and then went for a good wash and scrub up

Back in here afterwards I transcribed the dictaphone notes. I was newly-retired, so I was back at home. There were all kinds of medical upheavals going on. Even I’d been interviewed for a medical and failed it completely so was going to have some kind of further treatment. A whole week had been set aside for us to receive the kind of treatment that we needed. This was to take place at home, or at least, some kind of clinic but we’d all be at home during the day, during the night. It had been arranged that I’d look after my niece’s daughter while all of this was going on. We were making plans and making appointments. Someone said something about the daughter staying with me. It turned out in the end that she was only going to stay with me for two days because Friday the had something sorted out but there were so many things arranged that this stay was gradually being whittled down until in the end it probably wouldn’t be anything. That was a big disappointment to me because I had lots of plans and lots of ideas about what I was going to do and where I was going to take her. I’d been quite looking forward to going off for a few days with her to show her around, so I was starting to be even more disappointed and fed up than I am.

Later on there was something else that cropped up which would have been a really great idea had she been staying with me. I happened to mention this idea thing that had come up but it turns out now that whatever time she had left was going to be reduced yet again as something else was found for her to do. I began to wonder whether I was completely wasting my time with all of this and trying to be nice and helpful

So here we go again. I’m planning on having a good and interesting time and various members of my family come along and spike my guns, shoving "le baton dans la rue" as they would say around here. That’s one thing on which you could count – if I were going to be having a good time they would want to spoil it. I tell you, leaving The Land That Time Forgot and coming into the 21st Century was the best thing that ever happened to me and it’s a real shame as far as I’m concerned that I couldn’t ever persuade Nerina to take a leap into the future instead of being back there in the past

The nurse told me about the fun run taking place tonight. The town is closed off this weekend and it’s a car-free “pedestrians only” to celebrate the start of the summer season. There’s a 9km trail laid out around the town and the fun run starts this evening with everyone joining in for a lap – or two, or three, or four if you want the full marathon – to celebrate the summer, the Olympics, or anything else that you like.

She’ll be taking part and she’ll give me a wave as she runs past my apartment. I said that I’d keep an eye open for her;

After she left I had breakfast and then came in here – where I promptly fell asleep again. So much for this early start, I have to say.

While I was away with the fairies I was over the hills and far away. While I was asleep during the morning I had a very clingy girlfriend, a younger girl with large thick-lensed glasses and I know who she is but I can’t think of her name now. We we were out one afternoon and evening and she was just clingy. At first I thought “how lucky I was to have someone who wanted to be so near to me so much” but after a while I began to realise that someone so clingy can also be se needy and so much closeness can be oppressive.

It’s amazing how deep your inner consciousness and realisation goes when you are asleep. I’ve come up with some profound thinking in my dreams and I quite often wish that I could think so clearly and profoundly in real life. Things would be quite different. But what the heck is the name of this girl? I can see her even now but can’t think of her name.

When I awoke I finished off all of the notes for the radio programme on which I was working and then went for a very late lunch, not that I was too bothered about the time.

This afternoon, apart from sleeping, I’ve been carrying out a few amendments to my Homepage (and there will be some more in the fullness of time too), finishing off the updates to my “Canada 2022” pages from October 2022 and once I’d finished those, making a start on updating the pages that I wrote during my recent stay in hospital. So all in all, a very busy boy today even if a tired one.

Having had my breaded quornburger last night, tonight I had air-fried chips with a vegan salad and a burger on a bap – one of those burgers that I made with this dried compound stuff from Germany;

The taste is cerainly different, but not disagreeable, especially when there’s plenty of vegan mayonnaise, dijon mustard and onion plastered all over the place.

So now, early though it is, I’m going to dictate some radio notes for editing during the week and then off to bed. An 08:00 start so if I’m lucky I might have a little lie-in.

But going back to yesterday and needing help too raise myself from the floor reminds me of a story that Bishop Bell of Chichester used to tell me, about the time that he had difficulty rising from his seat in the park
A small girl dashed over and asked if she could help him
"Are you sure you can, dear?" asked the Bishop. "It’s not going to be easy"
"It’s all right really, sir" said the girl, brightly. "I’ve often helped my daddy when he’s been much drunker than you"

0

Saturday 25th May 2024 – IT SEEMS AS IF …

…this crashing out during the day has become the new norm.

It seems that rather than feeling bad about the days when I do crash out, I’m now celebrating the days when I don’t. And what kind of state is that to be in?

And, more to the point, wouldn’t it be nice to have something to celebrate today instead of having yet another miserable day where I’ve spent either asleep or semi-comatose?

For a change I was in bed early last night despite all the aches and pains. I found it much easier to get into bed even if it was more painful and once under the covers I was soon asleep. For a while it was quite comfortable.

And then a strange thing happened.

It began by me awakening (so I thought) and looking at my watch, to find that it was 06:15 so I curled back up under the quilt.

The next time I awoke it was 06:10. And then 06:30. And then 06:15.

It really was thoroughly confusing.

To make it worse, I couldn’t remember what time the alarm was supposed to ring. So frightened in case it as 06:15 and I’d missed it I raised myself from the dead.

When it did finally go off, I was in mid-wash

The nurse came as usual. She said that she’d rung but I can’t have heard her so she came in here to find me.

We talked about my blood test, she dealt with my feet and legs, and then she cleared off.

There was some stuff on the dictaphone which was a surprise. There was some kind of stately home and the young girl who lived there had an Austin Metropolitan. She nearly ran me down on the way home one night so I thought that I’d call into the hall to see. There was a discussion going on about a woman who liked nude bathing. Someone was desperately trying to divert the discussion saying that she was a member of the British National Outdoor Swimming Federation or whatever it was called and went to these swimming events with her two children every year as part of her membership of this association (which we all knew was nonsense). I couldn’t find the girl so I set out to walk across the road when I was almost run down again by the car. I found it with its rear end sticking out into the street. They were about to work on it so I had a few words with them about it. A local policeman turned up and began to defend them which I thought was completely wrong. He was giving me all kinds of reasons and excuses why and I wasn’t having any of it. It was all turning into a very awkward situation

Beautiful cars, Austin Metropolitans. When I was young there were two dumped on waste land in Wistaston for years. The last time I actually saw one though was IN MAINE IN 2015. They were exported to North America in droves, where they were called Nash Metropolitans

After doing this I was keeping a close eye on the clock thinking “in 10 minutes I can go for my breakfast at 10:00” but all of a sudden it was 11:55 and I’ve no idea regrettably to where that 2 hours disappeared. Ahh well …

This afternoon was pretty much the same – trying to write radio notes in the middle of disappearing half-hours and so on. It doesn’t work, I promise you.

At least tea was nice – baked potato with salad and breaded quorn fillets as usual. Monotonous but tasty.

But something else that is monotonous is bedtime. However I’m thoroughly wasted and a good early night might help. I certainly hope so. And the problem with going to bed early is that it makes the wife put on weight.
Single women come home, see what’s in the fridge and go to bed.
Married women come home, see what’s in the bed and go to the fridge.

0

Monday 20th May 2024 – YOU’VE PROBABLY ALL …

… read yesterday’s embarrassing blog entry now that it’s on line.

Ohhh!! The shame of it all. I eventually managed to make my way to bed, fully-clothed, at about 02:30 which, seeing as the alarm was set for 07:00 was going to be something of an effort.

Especially as today is another Bank Holiday and usually you wouldn’t see my head poking out from under the covers until about 11:00 I suppose

But all of that was back in the olden days. How times have changed. And not for the better either

When the alarm went off I arose from the dead and went for a wash in the bathroom to clean up

The dining area needed arranging for the nurse too but I arranged it somewhat differently to make it easier for me to stand up. The heights for my arms to push up so that I can stand up have to be calculated pretty precisely .

The nurse noticed a deterioration today. I told him how fed up I was with it all. I need to start laying the foundations for my eventual depart

After he left I came back in here and with an old, pretty full A4 binder and my pillow, managed to raise up the height of the chair so I can sit down with no worries about getting up again. What kind of state am I really in?

At least I was able to write out the blog entry from last night and post it on line.

This afternoon I had a lot of personal stuff to do. And do you remember that issue that reared its ugly head in the UK? The bullet is bitten, the die is cast
"The Moving Finger writes, and, having writ,
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it" and I shall be making one of the greatest expenditures in my life.

In fact, only the purchase of Expo, my second apartment in Brussels and my apartment downstairs here have cost me more, and the sad thing is that I won’t ever see the benefit of it.

Ahh well, such is life I suppose

That left me some time to transcribe last night’s diictaphone notes. And to my surprise, there was something. They were doing some kind of survey into criminal investigations. I’d been leading some kind of group that had a great deal of interest in this. We were comparing various things together to see about them. One year we had a graph that had an abnormal part in it so we looked further into it. That was what they called “The Irish Sex Scandal” when the Irish Government spent so long investigating a case before brining it to court that it was deemed to be – not “Perverting The Court of Justice” but whatever I mean … "defeating the ends of natural justice" – ed … to bring it to Court. The prosecution collapsed accordingly. We began to wonder whether there had been any other UK cases that had collapsed like this because of a want of prosecution. We began to look further into a lot of old cases to make sure that at least the defence had been correctly run and the correct information had been supplied to them for them to decide what to do with it

During the day I’d been crashing out here and there, which is no surprise given the sleep that I hadn’t had. When I was asleep in the morning I was doing something in the countryside. There was a campsite there. I was having a good wash but a couple of people were having a shower. It suddenly occurred to me “why don’t I have a shower instead?”. I gathered up my things and must have gone into twenty cubicles without finding a single cubicle that had everything one would need for a proper shower. There was always something missing. On one occasion I was menaced by a dog but as it approached me I menaced it back and it ran away. Twenty cabins I must have tried and not one of them had all one would need for a shower.

That sounds typical, doesn’t it?

There was still some time to write a few notes for a forthcoming radio programme before going to make my stuffed pepper and I’ll finish it tomorrow. But after my Welsh lesson. I’m going to bed now ready to be fighting fit for tomorrow

And by that, dear reader, I mean “fighting for breath and fit to drop”.

0

4th May 2024 – HAPPY STAR WARS DAY …

.. to all of my readers. May the fourth be with you!

What I hope is that you have had a good day today. As for me, I’ve had a better day, but then again that’s not saying all that much.

After I’d finished my notes last night I had a rush around and was actually in bed by 23:03. That’s quite early for recent times but still later than I would like it to be, with an alarm call at 07:00.

Once in bed I didn’t remember anything at all – I certainly can’t remember any phantom alarm calls going off that would awaken me

When the real alarm did actually go off I was a little boy in bed with a little girl. My mother came in and said that she was glad to see me awake and glad to see me and that the two of us had got on so well together and she was going to sing a song to awaken both of us. Just at that moment BILLY COTTON roared his “wakey waaaa….key” and I didn’t find it funny in the least.

It’s very strange but the number of times something in real life has synchronised with something in a dream, such as my mother about to sing to wake me up and we have the alarm going off just at that moment. It’s not every time, of course, but it’s an unusual percentage of times that’s higher than you might think.

Anyway I wandered off for a wash and for my medication.

Having set out the room as the nurse likes it to be, he came down after seeing to my neighbour upstairs, changed the dressing on my foot and put on my puttees. And the wound on my foot is certainly looking much better than it did several weeks ago. That’s good news.

After he left I came back in here where I crashed out – the first of several times today. I’m not doing too well from that point of view.

As for my breakfast, I did manage to stay awake long enough to make and eat my cheese on toast and coffee. And the bread that I made yesterday is really good too. I was quite impressed with that lot of baking – almost as impressed as I was with my galvanised steel dustbin all those years ago.

Once I’d finally awoken I went for a wash and a shave and sure enough, at 14:00 I had a visitor. One of my fellow students on my Welsh course is retired and spends months driving around Europe in his caravanette. He’s turned up in Granville this morning so he came for a coffee and a chat.

And wasn’t it lovely to see him? I don’t have enough visits, which is a shame

After he left I transcribed the dictaphone notes. I was with Nerina last night. She’d come back home and we were together, but it wasn’t at all what she was expecting. She realised that my routine had changed so what she decided was that some time during the following day we’d both sit down and thrash out some rules for some kind of co-existence. I was willing to listen but obviously I wasn’t going to agree to any of the rules that might change my life drastically from how it is. Nevertheless I was interested to see exactly what her proposals might be. Of course they might affect other people like the district nurse coming round but that was something that we’d have to see about and have to negotiate anyway so that we could have some kind of life in common rather than living as two individuals in the same house

The biggest change would be that I can’t walk anywhere these days. I’m stuck inside this building and not able to go out. I’m not sure what other changes there would be after 30-odd years but there would bound to be some. The fact that I don’t have to go to work and so can have a more regulated lifestyle would be a big change for a start

There was also something else going on too about living together. A young mother named Maggie had moved in with a guy called Bill in the suburbs of Glasgow because it seemed like the best opportunity she was going to find to escape the kind of squalor in which she’d been living. His lifestyle didn’t conform to what she was expecting either so it was necessary to get together and thrash out rules between him and her but she was far less optimistic that some kind of arrangement suiting both parties would be found and considered it a great challenge to try to persuade him to conform to certain ideals of communal life in the middle of all of this Glasgow gang warfare that was going on around these tenements

There are several people whom I know who can’t bear to be on their own and have to be with someone else regardless of how it turns out. For one or two of them, it’s turned out really well but for the most part it’s been something of a disaster and they just move on to the next, with predictable results.

The res of the day, when I’ve not been asleep, has been dealing with the blog entries from when I was in Canada in 2022. The photos and the corresponding text needs to be added in so I’ve been working on that.

There’s only a handful of photos left to do but they won’t be done tomorrow as I’ll be baking biscuits. I’m running right out of those at the moment. I’m just trying to think about what kind of biscuits I should make. The last lot were chocolate biscuits and the ones before that were honey biscuits.

Tea tonight was one of my breaded quorn fillets with a salad and a baked potato. Quite delicious as usual, especially the potato cooked for 5 minutes in the microwave and then 15 minutes in the air fryer.

Pudding was delicious too. Some of the strawberries that I bought the other day soaked in a vegan cream. And there are more strawberries and cream for tomorrow after the pizza.

But right now, that’s it. My eyesight has deteriorated rapidly since yesterday and I can’t really see what I’m doing.

And that’s a problem. Not like when I lived down on the farm. It was such a small village that even though I might not have had a clue what I was doing, all the neighbours knew

0

Wednesday 1st May 2024 – IT’S HARD TO ..

… believe that it’s the First of May already.

We’ve had fog and mist all day, it’s been raining and it’s flaming cold to such an extent that I’m seriously considering switching the heating back on. I don’t think that I can ever remember a Spring quite like this one.

Winter may well have been one of the warmest on record but we’re certainly making up for it now with this weather. We’ve not had a really warm day yet.

Mind you, it makes little difference to me, this weather. It’s not as if I’m going out anywhere just now. The next time that I need to be somewhere is 26th June when I have an appointment here in Granville as a follow-up to my stay in hospital at Avranches.

There’s no news on the horizon about any visit to Paris. In a sense that’s good news because it would suggest that they aren’t really so worried about how things are developing. On the other hand, it would be nice if they were to conduct regular checks on what’s going on with me.

But right now, the important thing for me to do is to take more care of myself, like going to bed early for a start.

Last night was earlier than some just recently but still later than I would like. And even so, it makes no sense when I wake up thinking that the alarm is going off so I need to get up, only to find that it’s 04:00, it’s still dark and it’s not the alarm going off at all.

So what was it then? I wish that I knew. It certainly sounded like the alarm in my sleep.

Luckily I was able to go back to sleep and I was dead to the World when the alarm finally did go off at 07:00. It’s a Bank Holiday here today and how I wish that I could have had a decent lie-in as I would normally do, but not when I have the nurse coming round.

Falling out of bed as usual, I switched off the alarm and headed for the bathroom, and then for the dining area and my medication

The nurse came round later to sort me out. He thinks that my foot is improving, which is good news. But the prescription about my puttees seems to be going on for ever. I can’t remember how long it was for but it must be close to expiry.

After he left I vegetated for a while trying to summon up the enthusiasm to do something, but instead I seemed to have drifted off into the Land of Nod for a while. Obviously my body is still in the Bank Holiday spirit even if I’m not.

After my coffee and flapjack I transcribed the notes from the dictaphone. There was something going on about a car repair last night that was under investigation. When we went to check on it we found that the car, an Austin 1800, was suspended in mid-air. It was attached to a machine called a “Kibble”. The machine rotated the car rather like a rotisserie so that the car would be much easier to work on. I talked to the owner about the machine. He told me that it cost £10,000, it was portable and he would take it with him when he was going out to repair because it saved him a lot of time and energy. He’d even change the chassis on certain vehicles using this machine.

Actually I’ve seen a real rotisserie being used for welding cars and having spent mush of my life crawling underneath cars to weld them up, one of them was at the top of my list for the farm, along with a two-post lift and a tyre changer. They are nothing like as expensive as £10,000, not even a tenth of that, and the time and back-breaking effort that they would save is enormous.

However, like almost everything now, it’s all water under the bridge. I’ll never have any cause to want to go crawling around under any other car under any circumstance again.

Then I was dreaming about a ladies football team. One of the players on the team had committed a very serious foul which didn’t look much when you saw it live but when you saw the video later on it was horrific so some consequences were going to have to happen about this. My job first of all was to take the player aside and have a really good word with her about what had happened and why it had happened to make sure that she was ready for any kind of cross-examination from the appropriate Football Association.

And my opinion of ladies’ football matches has changed considerably. I can still remember the first few matches years ago that were very amateurish to say the least but in 2015 I was in Burlington in Vermont when I came across A GIRLS’ FOOTBALL MATCH at the local High School, and wasn’t I impressed? Ladies’ football has improved dramatically and quickly over the last 20 years

If ever you have the chance, look out for a game in the Mexican female competitions. It’s not just the skill, they go at it hammer and tongs with a level of aggression that you wouldn’t find in the men’s game.

After that I started to edit the last lot of radio notes that were recorded a while back but I was rather disillusioned with the miserable quality and after a good while I decided to scrap it and re-dictate it. So that’s added to the big pile of stuff.

And I didn’t dictate anything today. Things were simply not quiet enough. I’m really going to have to find some quiet time, even if it means missing out on a few hours of sleep somewhere.

This afternoon I changed a few plans and junked the radio programme that I’d started earlier in the week.

The reason for that is that the date of the broadcast falls on the birthday of someone who had no connection with rock music but nevertheless was the inspiration for dozens of rock songs in a sort-of roundabout way.

Consequently I thought that it would be a good idea to have a programme dedicated to him featuring some of the songs that he inspired and so I’ve been hunting down a few here and there to make up enough for a programme. It’ll certainly be different.

Tea tonight was the same though, a leftover curry with a naan bread. And I’ve finished the last of my garlic butter so I need to make some more at some point. Can’t have a garlic naan without garlic butter

But as for the curry, it was delicious as usual. Adding soya yoghurt to it right near the end is definitely the way to go.

And while we’re on the subject of the way to go … "well, one of us is" – ed … I’m going to find the way to go to bed. I’ve done enough for today, especially as it was a Bank Holiday and by rights I shouldn’t have done anything at all.

But before I go, I’ll leave you with A SONG to celebrate today, another one that’s on my acoustic guitar playlist. It brings back all kinds of nostalgic memories from my teenage years and the girlfriends to whom I probably sang this song.

And to one night on board THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR.

We sang many songs that night, and one passenger was overheard to remark to another "I don’t like that Eric Hall. He knows too many dirty songs"
"Did he sing them to you?"
"No. He whistled them."

0

Tuesday 23rd April 2024 – OUCH! THAT HURT!

And if you read on, you’ll find out what and why. I’ve not had a very good day.

Anyway, last night after everything had finished I sat down and READ A BOOK about an American sailor and his family, including his 6 year old daughter, captured in the South Pacific in 1917 by a German sea-going raider and who spent 10 months as prisoner on board before being shipwrecked off the coast of Denmark.

After that I settled down, fully dressed because I was freezing, under the covers and that was that.

A few times during the night I was awoken by a few comings and goings but for some reason or other I was so tired that I was back asleep almost immediately and ended up not awakening until they came to take my blood sample at about 09:15.

Actually it was the little student nurse who came on her own so I told her that if I leave here alive she’ll have earned her diploma. Anyway, she managed to find some blood. I still have some left, apparently.

Once she’d gone I went for a wash and brush up as best as I could and then a driver came to collect me. It was the rock music fan who has taken me before so we had a good chat before he dropped me off at Neurology.

While I was waiting for my appointment I had a good chat with the receptionist and another patient and saw several photos of cats and dogs before being ushered into the room where the examination was due to take place.

It was the doctor who had seen me before on two occasions. He and his sidekick gave me the electric shock tests to my arms and legs and I was right – there is a further deterioration. So no surprise there. We had a good chat and now he’s gone away to think about a Plan B.

The same driver came to pick me up for my next appointment but that’s not until tomorrow so he brought me back here.

While I was eating lunch a doctor came to slap a freezing patch on my lower back and we all know what that means. She took an age to find the correct position so I asked her "can’t you see the scars from the previous attempts?"

When she told me that she could, I told her that they ought to paint an “X marks the spot” or even a target in the correct place.

A short while later, Batman and Robin, the young ward nurse and her little student who follows her around like a shadow, came to prepare me.

It was the little student who drew the short straw and had to hold me down and I bet she wished that she hadn’t when the doctor missed her aim with the lumbar puncture and found the central nerve.

Eventually, but not soon enough by any means, the torment was over and I could go to lie down. “You’ll just need to be flat out for an hour” but she was joking. After an hour or so a nurse came round to make sure that I was still alive and to take my blood pressure, with predictable results. But in fact it was several hours before I crawled out of bed, and then only for a particular reason too.

Once I’d settled down in my chair I transcribed the dictaphone notes. Yesterday’s are now on line and then I started on today’s. I was going to start at a new school but the morning that I was due to go I had a ‘phone call that began speaking in Welsh. It was a young girl saying that she was glad to go back to live in Easingwold. I couldn’t understand who it was but the conversation became more and more intimate until in the end, I had to go, I said plenty of encouraging words and finished with “I love you” but I had no idea who this person was at all. Absolutely none. I arrived at the new school but couldn’t find out how anything worked, the system of how lessons were organised etc. In the end I stumbled across a lesson from one of my class so I asked the teacher where all the other lessons for our year were being held. He gave some kind of nebulous speech abut how I should have looked at the newspaper. Of course I knew nothing about this. I found a copy of the newspaper but didn’t understand it. In the end I found some kind of paper print-out with the details on it. It was headed with the most extraordinary offensive message that had nothing whatever to do with the subject matter. I thought it totally astonishing that they’d pin this on the wall. I couldn’t find any paper then. Every piece of paper on which I tried to write, I was making no impression with a ball-point pen. The writing was just not sticking as if it had one of these shiny surfaces. I kept on coming across paper that had already been used, carbon copies of the ‘phone call that I’d had earlier in the day from that girl etc, but nothing that I could do would be able to reproduce anything on any kind of piece of paper. It was just so frustrating because I wanted to crack on and organise myself as this was just not working at all.

Then this conversation that I’d had in the morning had completely shaken me. I didn’t have a clue who on earth it was to whom I was speaking and I really wish that I knew because it had all the air of being something really interesting. The only Welsh-speaking girl I knew at school was only in passing and it certainly wasn’t her so who on earth was it?

Then we had a boisterous kind of office party where everything was going out of control. The sad part about it was that these were all middle-aged people. The boss there had picked on someone else’s wife and was making life really uncomfortable for them. They were trying to work out a moment in which to disappear such as when the boss went to the toilet but they’d brought the PA with them so putting that into the car in the space of a couple of minutes was going to be complicated. There were all kinds of things like this. Some woman was making some very plain and clear hints that she wanted to dance etc with me but of course I was having absolutely none of this and sat stoically at my seat in the dining room watching the events unfold, taking absolutely no notice of any of the extremely broad hints that she was dropping. All in all it was an extremely sad evening watching these people behaving like this

There have been more than a few parties like this where everyone makes a fool of themselves and I note that I even made a remark about it while I was asleep, which shows you just what I think about it all.

Then I was going through the videotapes looking for a blank one but came across a football match that took place years ago that I hadn’t seen. It involved one of these obscure South American republics playing in similar colours to Portugal and who had qualified unexpectedly for the World Cup after beating a selection of prize teams from other parts of the World to make it to the finals. I’d obviously taped their opening match but I couldn’t remember how it went or what the score was so instead of doing what I was supposed to be doing I put on this videotape and settled down to watch them. I got as far as watching them come out onto the pitch before I awoke. I’d no idea who their opponents were in this particular game.

And despite what I said the other night, Castor put in a very brief appearance last night. And wasn’t it nice to see her? We were on board THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR rearranging the dining arrangements. I was passing the cutlery and crockery and glassware from one table to the next. There was the final piece that I picked up to take round to the other table and who should be sitting there but Castor? She was talking to someone else about their life, I suppose. She was saying that she was born into a policeman’s family. I’ll tell you that that didn’t ‘arf ring a few alarm bells with me finding out that she was the progeny of a policeman’s couple.

But even if it were true and I had known, nothing of what happened back then would have changed for a minute. As I said at the time, I would have accepted any consequence. And as Joni Mitchell sang, YOU KNOW I’D GO BACK THERE TOMORROW BUT FOR THE WORK THAT I’VE TAKEN ON

And fancy the dream stopping there! I suppose that it was the shock that awoke me.

While I was asleep in the afternoon I was going for a walk. I had all of the four cats coming with me, following in my footsteps, climbing and jumping over each other as they used to do etc. There were a few members of my family with me. I had to take some money out to pay for something or other, housekeeping or whatever. I needed €60:00. I walked as far as the cash machine but when I went to look through my wallet I couldn’t find the bank card that I usually used. In the end, looking through everything I found a selection of other bank cards but I wasn’t sure which ones would work and which ones wouldn’t. There was one from the bank in Belgium so I put that in the cash machine. It seemed to read the card because it asked for the PIN. I typed in the usual number and that seemed to accept it but that was as far as I reached in the dream.

Tea tonight was salmon lasagne with creamed spinach so some horse trading was undertaken but I’m not doing too well for food which is a shame, but not unexpected.

So right now I’m off to bed to try to recapture Castor and to hope that they try to check my blood pressure at calmer moments.

But while the little student was preparing me for my lumbar puncture I asked her why doctors always wear masks
"Is it to do with infection?" she asked.
"Not at all" I replied. "It’s in case the procedure goes all wrong. Then they can’t identify the guilty party"

0

Saturday 20th April 2024 – THERE’S NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone from last night to transcribe today.

That’s not actually a surprise, really. Last night, or, rather, this morning, I was still up and about at 02:30. And at 05:00 I was up and about again, after having had probably about 2 hours sleep, if that. And if “sleep” is the correct word to use in these cases.

It really was a bad night.

It’s not strictly true to say that there was nothing to transcribe but I promise you, you really don’t want to know anything about what I could be typing, especially if you are eating your meal right now.

So once I’d finished typing out the notes from last night it was 23:35 and I could feel that it was going to be a late night because once again, I couldn’t find the energy to heave myself up and out of my comfortable chair and into bed.

It’s surprising actually, because it’s probably a distance of not even two feet, but that’s two feet more than I seem to have right now So for a couple of hours I just loitered around not doing very much at all, just stirring a few papers around.

That’s another mystery, if you ask me. I wouldn’t mind being stuck in my chair at the desk if I were actually doing something even remotely useful but I can’t even seem to find the energy for that either. All the things that I need to do and I just can’t seem to do anything.

However I did manage to drag myself off to bed eventually, but not for long. And then I just lay there waiting for the dawn and for the alarm to ring.

And that reminded me – how about switching on the alarm? It’s a good job that I suddenly remembered – and that I was awake.

When they alarm went off I fell out of bed and went off for my medication. I’ve given up with the idea of the blood pressure because what I learnt at the hospital is that
1) my machine is just too inaccurate
2) my blood pressure is up and down anyway
3) no-one has ever told me anything about what use the measurements are and what to do about them

Having arranged the living room I waited for the nurse to come. He didn’t seem to be too interested in the new prescription so I decided not to change anything.

Can you imagine it – sending my faithful cleaner to order a new lot of medication as per Avranches at considerable expense, and then only for Paris to declare it all redundant on Monday.

After he left I came back in here and slowly vegetated. Not much chance of doing anything at all in the state in which I was after just 2 hours of sleep.

However, I had a surprise visitor who disturbed me. A local taxi driver who had heard (from the nurse, apparently) that I go to Paris frequently, and would I be interested in a better, cheaper service?

Well, apart from anything else, the advantage of a company with 50 cars and several ambulances is that if they can’t fit me in, it would be even more unlikely that one man on his own with one car would.

In any case, the current taxi company negotiates directly with the Securité Sociale and is paid direct rather than me paying and claiming reimbursement. So why would I change that?

However, I kept the card that he gave me. It may come in handy for something.

Eventually I warmed up enough to update the big desktop machine with the changed files on the travelling portable only to find that half of the dictaphone files from earlier in the week were missing so I had to transcribe them again

Once I’d finished that I set the washing machine off to do a load of clothes, and didn’t they need it? While they were on the go I had a brief half-hour in the arms of Morpheus. I was surprised that it was only half an hour too.

Tonight I managed a salad, baked potato and a quorn whatsit and now I’m off to bed to catch up with my beauty sleep

I need it too after last night. It’s like the time in 2014 when I was in Rennes les Bains on the trail of the Cathars and stumbled across that Health Spa with its bargain offers.

The mudbath there worked wonders and made me look 10 years younger.

It was such a shame that the mud wore off the next day though.

0

Friday 19th April 2024 – YOU HAVE NO IDEA …

… – or maybe you do, I dunno. I know very little of your personal habits – just how absolutely wonderful it is to be standing underneath a constant stream of hot water out of a shower outlet after all these months of being without.

Now that my emergency backpack has arrived, complete with wash kit, spare pair of undies and the like, I closed the door to my room, put something to stop the bathroom door being opened, and away I went underneath the little shower tucked away in the corner of the bathroom.

Of course, it stopped my little student nurse from coming in to scrub my back and massage my clavicles, but it also stopped the retired Bulgarian female weightlifter from doing the same, and also stopped the nurse from coming in to remind me to tell her when I’ve been to the bathroom

And I’ll tell you now that it was heaven.

While we’re on the subject of the massaging of clavicles … "well, one of us is" – ed … I had a visitor during the night.

Actually, I had several because it was quite a mobile night but the most important of them all was Zero. It’s been a while since she’s put in an appearance, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, but there she was last night and wasn’t it nice to see her?

All I need now is for TOTGA and Castor to come back to see me but I have a rather depressing feeling, at least about Castor. As for TOTGA, it’s not quite two years ago that … well, never mind.

So last night after I’d finished the notes and put them on line I had a pause and then attacked the notes for Monday, which are NOW ON LINE in a basic form. I’ll add the dictaphone notes in due course, whenever that might be.

It was after midnight when I went to bed and what with 05:00 diabetes checks and the like I was expecting a turbulent night.

And I was right too, but for totally unexpected reasons. As I mentioned, Zero came to see me. We’d been going to the local pub, a group of us of all ages of people. I’d made a few enquiries along the way and I’d worked out which was everyone’s favourite biscuit. There was a young girl, probably about 9 or 10 or so who loved chocolate, there was Zero who loved a certain type of biscuit etc so what I’d done ready for when we’d be going that Saturday was that I’d been to the pub on the way home from the shops and dropped off the biscuits. We rounded up everyone and prepared to go down to the pub at lunchtime. The first thing about which we talked was “a drink for the little one” – of course, she wasn’t that little. She wanted something or other. I asked her what she wanted to eat so she mentioned “biscuits”. I pulled out a pile from under the counter and had a chocolate in my other hand. I said “right, which biscuit do you want to swap for this chocolate?”. I wasn’t given any choice because the chocolate disappeared immediately. It was the same with Zero. She chose her favourite biscuit and had that as well as the other ones that were there and wolfed it down. I began to talk to her then after everyone else had had their biscuits. Zero and I began to have a really good chat. There was some paperwork involving her that needed doing so I thought that I may as well sit down there and do that while everyone is busy and maybe persuade Zero to come over and help me fill it all in.

Then another girl who has appeared once or twice in this rubbish previously puts in an appearance. It’s as we thought, with all this turmoil going on during a school dance or something we’d all been separated because we can’t behave ourselves. I’ve been put over one side and ended up dancing with this girl but I’m busy fighting her for a little more than she’s prepared to give me, like most teenage boys back in those days. There was something else going on with one of the other girls etc so in the end the teacher called a halt to the proceedings and dragged the lot of us, the entire group, down to see the headmaster and began to recount all of the problems that she was having with us and who’s been doing what wrong. Of course he picks on me and begins to give me a really good lecture as if it’s all my fault but it’s probably only some of it and everyone else was probably to blame for a lot.

And there’s nothing new in any of that either. Whatever was going on wherever it was always seemed to be my fault, even though it was nothing to do with me.

It reminded me of a tale of woe that a friend’s daughter in the USA once told me. She was 11 and had a 7 year old brother.
"Whenever I do anything wrong, my brother tells my mom on me and she yells at me" she said once. "But if he does anything wrong and I tell my mom on him, then she says it’s my fault for not watching him properly and yells at me"
That story has a very, very familiar ring as far as I’m concerned.

But there’s a funny story about a similar situation with the children of my friend Erika in Georgia. Her two kids were about 6 and 2 and the time.
"Mom!" shouted the 6 year old. "… (the two year old) … has a choking hazard in her mouth!"
So mom dashes to the rescue and removes the offending article
"Mom!" said the 6 year old in a tone of admonishment "I think you really MUST watch us better!"

Anyway we we were back in that dream again. The teacher was giving her report. One of the younger girls was up to some kind of mischief. That girl from just now was still there. It was obvious to the teacher that there was some kind of … errr … inappropriate behaviour (especially as she was a couple of years younger than me) between the girl and me that was beginning to get out of hand in the middle of one of the songs. There was a third thing happening so in the end she decided to call it all to a halt and drag us all before the headmaster who hopefully would lay down the law and even more hopefully we might all listen to what is being said and take note.

I have to admit that I admired the optimism of some of these new teachers who came to our school straight from University

It was as I said. I was messing around with this girl. There was someone else there messing around and Zero put in another appearance doing something – I think that it was she who was singing falsely at the end. Anyway we were all passing through a group of china and the Headmistress was annoyed in case we fell over and broke it all so she read The Riot Act to us all. Generally, it was the kind of place where we wished that we’d all gone home because we’d really all been getting out of hand just then and making the teacher’s life difficult.
(…And if I’ve been fooling around with another girl – no matter who it is – when Zero is there I ought to be ashamed of myself and go home in disgrace…)

But there was no sense of shame or guilt about any kind of interaction that took place between the teachers and the pupils. It was the Law of the Jungle, them or us even when it came to a group of a dozen boys bodily picking up a teacher’s car and wedging it between two brick walls. “That’ll teach her! Get out of that one!”

My own preference was a War of Nerves, but the less said about that the better in an open forum.

They awoke me for the blood test at 05:00 and also for the diabetes test, which I passed, and so I could go back to sleep.

But not for long because I soon had the morning chorus of people around doing all kinds of things and stopping me doing anything else for a while.

Breakfast then came, complete with jam, so I was left alone to transcribe the dictaphone notes for a while.

My faithful cleaner asked me if they had told me whether I could go so I told her “no news” and 30 seconds after I sent it, they came to tell me that they’d ordered my taxi for 15:00. That was when I hit the bathroom.

Doctor n°1 came to see me when I was packing and told me that I could go, seeing as my results had improved. So I told her goodbye and thanks, that I was sorry to leave and that I hoped that I’d see her again. She blushed again and I kid you not, she skipped – really skipped – out of the door as if she was about 7.

As usual, the taxi was late coming but the driver was someone who had taken me to Paris once so I knew him. We were back quite quickly and my faithful cleaner was waiting to help me up the stairs. I really don’t know what I’d do without her.

Once inside I had a hot chocolate and apart from the banana-flavoured soya drink that I’m currently drinking, that’s it. I’ve not moved from my chair, not even to make any food. I just can’t.

Liz was on line so we had a good chat and now I’m off to bed in my nice clean bedroom – my cleaner has been busy while I’ve been away. It’s probably taken her all week to do what she’s done.

So after Zero’s dramatic reappearance last night, who’ll be coming to see me tonight? My money is of course where it usually is – on one of my family coming along uninvited.

It’s hard to believe though that Zero turned up a second time and I was …. errr …. busy elsewhere. I’m clearly losing my grip. But at least I noticed her. Just imagine if I hadn’t.

Still, I’m not alone there. A friend in the Army was once selected for camouflage training. He simply didn’t go and was later commended for his disguise and attention to detail. It fooled everyone apparently

0