Tag Archives: http://www.amazon.co.uk

Tuesday 27th August 2024 – I HAVE MADE …

… myself a ginger cake this afternoon.

As yet, I haven’t sampled it, but I’m quite looking forward to doing that tomorrow. I’ve no idea what it’ll turn out like because it’s a recipe that I’ve pretty much invented, so we shall see what we shall see. It promises to be interesting, to say the least.

Like last night, which was also quite interesting, not the least because the nurse had fastened my puttees quite tightly, and as my foot expanded it felt as if the little toe on my left foot was being amputated with no anaesthetic. It’s a long time since I’ve felt pain like that

And so I had to undo my puttees quite a while before going to bed, which is not what I want to do as all of the water in my body will them settle down into my legs and feet and make them swell even more. Ahh well …

Going to bed was interesting last night because I can’t remember anything at all about it. I must have been asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. And there I stayed until the alarm went off. I had awoken a couple of times but I can’t remember when and why.

When the alarm went off I switched it off and headed to the bathroom to sort myself out for the morning, and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was doing a radio programme on mutations last night, why they exist and what’s their meaning, which words mutate and why. We were broadcasting it over a period of several days on several different platforms. There were several people who didn’t really receive the message at all, that Welsh is a completely different language from most that they’ve already encountered before. The German language mutates a little and there are a few mutations in the English language but the Welsh language is full of them and has specific rules. These need to be understood by the speakers whether you are native or a graduate Welsh speaker so this was the point of telling them about our discussion. But I’d noticed that these lamp posts have to be secreted well below the road surface but the two that they were about to install at this road junction didn’t look anything at all heavy enough to me … fell asleep here …

This was interesting. German, and to a lesser extent English, employ mutations quite a lot but it’s mainly the vowel that mutates – gIve = gAve, hOld = hEld etc and it’s a very rare consonant that mutates – leaF = leaVes etc. But in Welsh it’s the consonant that mutates most commonly, and when I say “common” I mean “common”. I’m at the stage now though where I can’t remember the rules of mutation and am just learning phrases parrot-fashion as a small child would. As for where the second part of this dream came from I really have no idea. Perhaps it’s just as well that I fell asleep in mid-dictate.

Back in the 1930s was one of these sweat-shop offices in New York where you had to walk around about 50 flights of stairs down 10 basements to find where people were working in all kinds of overcrowded and unhealthy conditions. Someone finally went down there – he was moving to Chicago and wanted to take members of staff from New York with him. He identified people on the basis of “you, you and you” – that’s how he recruited his “willing” volunteers, by pointing to them and ordering them to accompany him. One or two of them were upset but there was no other alternative. While the rest of his staff were discussing this, a news report came in that the Police had stopped someone riding a motor bike in their area of the city. They had found out that this person was unlicensed so they told him that his bike would be confiscated. As the police officer was pushing it into someone’s driveway to await collection a shot rang out and she fell dead. There was a huge enquiry launched, which upset just about everyone and the local papers crusaded on behalf of the residents who, they said, had lost many of their civil rights as a result of the police coming into the Borough in numbers to try to track down the murderer and the tactics that they used to deprive them of their civil rights too.

That was how things were run in American offices back in the 1930s and while evolution in the UK office culture, thanks to the Trades Unions, has made the office a much more friendly place to work, that’s not the case in the USA. Not by any means. I worked for an American company for a while, in their Brussels office. There was a knotty problem that needed fixing and I was on the ‘phone to New York one Friday afternoon trying to sort it out. At 18:00 our time (12:00 their time) I said that I was going home and we’d catch up to finish it off on the Monday. Monday at 15:00 (09:00 in New York) I waited for his ‘phone call, which never came. Just before going home I rang up the New York office to speak to him. "Ohh – Mr (so-and-so)?" came a voice. "I’m afraid that his position was made redundant on Friday." So he was finished there with (less than) six hours notice. Not exactly shot on his doorstep but not far off.

The nurse was late this morning and that had me running around rather late today. But she and I had a row. She was on the point of refusing to put a plaster on my operation but I stood my ground and insisted.

She thinks that I’m being a big baby over this and she’s probably right too, but I can do without a panic attack right now. There will be time enough for that in a few weeks time. But thanks to my faithful cleaner I have brand-new puttees on today and the previous lot are soaking in a bowl.

After she left I had breakfast, nice and at my leisure reading my book on the Icknield Way. And then I had plenty of things to do.

Firstly, to find the batteries that I took out of the dictaphone one night a few days ago and which fell on the floor and were lost to view. They’ve been tracked down and are now charging up.

Second thing is to have a much closer look at the Genz Benz combo amp. My initial inspection is regrettably correct – the two-way voltage switch is missing and the data plate shows that the “115 Volt 60 Herz” option is the only one selected.

That means that I need a transformer to run it from a 230 Volt 50 Herz” European electricity circuit, which wa what I suspected in the first place. But there are transformers readily available

Another thing is to make a slow start on the outstanding correspondence, of which there’s more than enough over the past few weeks. I owe several people a response and I haven’t forgotten you

After lunch I did some work on the radio and finished off the first of my special projects. You may be wondering why someone born in 1892 deserves a special rock music programme dedicated to him and him alone but if there is ever one man who has contributed more to rock music than any other one person I’d like to meet him

“Finished” I say, but I’ll be reading it through a few times before I dictate it. It’ll doubtless have a few amendments before it’s ready, but in a few months time I shall be inviting my merry little band of listeners to come for a walk with me in a most surprising place.

After the mid-afternoon hot chocolate there was baking to do. Firstly, a loaf of bread as I have now run out yet again, and secondly, while the dough was busy rising, I made my cake.

The chocolate powder was omitted this time of course, and its volume was replaced by extra flour, and then melted a tablespoon of coconut oil, which replaced an equivalent amount of oil. Then some ground ginger, ground mixed spice, and thanks to my loyal cleaner, some fresh ginger, finely diced

It probably will be the most ridiculous cake ever but at least it looks as if it might be a cake – of sorts. It actually rose in the oven too so that’s definitely progress of a sort

Tea was taco roll with rice and veg and for the benefit of those readers who say that I need stuffing, there was plenty to hand. So much so that it will be a good leftover curry tomorrow night, especially if I remember to make some naan bread.

But tomorrow I’m off to the hospital at Avranches – an 08:15 pick-up. I’m not sure that I’m looking forward to that but I shall do my best.

But while we’re on the subject of baking … "well, one of us is" – ed … the fact that I’m willing to have a go at baking is keeping me away from these agencies like the one that Sid James and Hattie Jacques were running in CARRY ON LOVING

Terry Scott who had “good cook” among his requirements went storming back to the office after a meeting set up by Sid James
"I don’t know why you’re upset" said Sid James. "I told you that she was a good cook"
"Yes, and she had something in the oven" said Terry Scott. "For nine months on Gas Mark Eight"

Saturday 10th August 2024 – IT’S NOT BEEN …

… all that much better today than it was yesterday. There has been a slight improvement to be sure but almost anything would be an improvement over what surely must have been one of the worst days of my life.

It was another late night last night. and I’m not talking about midnight or anything respectably late but I’m talking about times like 02:00, that sort of thing.

Something awoke me at 05:45 and I’ve no idea what it was. At te time I was in the middle of some kind of panic attack thing about how I must catch a bus to somewhere, a long-distance coach. I have to be somewhere else by 08:00 to board this bus and I’ve no idea what time it is and when the alarm goes off will I have time to go – another one of these panic attacks. But whatever awoke me sounded so real that I actually left the bed to answer my phone, which hadn’t rung or even received a message, so I’ve absolutely no idea why I would have done that.

Having made sure that there was nothing going on that might have been of an importance I went back to bed.

These days I’ve had a few of these panic attacks while I’m asleep.. I wonder if some part of my body is telling me something and that I need to take heed. But I really can’t think where I have to be that involves any kind of travel that I would undertake in a long-distance bus. The only place where I would ever be likely to want to take one would be between Montréal and Florenceville in New Brunswick, but not even that bus runs any more.

Once I was back in bed there I stayed until the alarm went off.

When Billy Cotton ROARED HIS RAUCOUS RATTLE I staggered off into the bathroom to have a good scrub, wash my night-time shorts and change my clothes. I have to look my best for Isabelle’s last day before she goes off on a well-deserved break.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was in a scrapyard somewhere and we had an old Class 20 or similar shunter. For some reason we had to go to a quarry. At the quarry was another one of the same type of machine. There was some issue involving the driver of that particular machine so as we were there one of our people drove it. There was a huge argument and he ended up escaping in this machine, not before he’s destroyed half of their infrastructure, driven over the top of a crane cutting the bodywork etc. The bailiffs or someone turned up at our place and wanted to take away our machine thinking that it was theirs but when they compared the registration numbers of our train with the registration numbers of the locomotive from the quarry they found out that it wasn’t the same so they couldn’t take it, so they left Then the guy turned up with this machine from a quarry so we ended up with two identical machines due to people losing their temper

Actually, I know someone who has a Class 20 diesel locomotive. He might even have more. He’s the neighbour of a former friend of mine and runs a company in Staffordshire hiring out locomotives to various railway companies and has a useful side-line ingoing round various locomotive breakers yards rescuing the more valuable spare parts. He started off with just one locomotive that he had bought to preserve but made a fortune hiring it out to the builders of the Channel Tunnel and, like Topsy, his business “just growed”.

Isabelle was in “chat” mode again today and she spent some time here. Having covered for her boss’s absence on holiday she’s now going off for ten days. He starts back tomorrow and their cycle of “one week on, one week off” begins again.

While I was having breakfast I was reading about the Maginnis Gulch Stampede, or Montana’s Phantom Gold Rush, an incident that was played to perfection in CARRY ON COWBOY

But for those of you who have expressed an interest, the book is called FOLLOWING OLD TRAILS, written by a newspaperman called Arthur L Stone.

Later on in the morning there were the highlights of last night’s game between Queen’s Park and Livingston, and then I joined that guy I mentioned the other day, Blair McNally, for a trip to the East end of Glasgow for Vale of Clyde v Port Glasgow Athletic, a proper amateur football match in about the eighth level of the Scottish Pyramid.

This afternoon I’ve been tracking down concert dates. And much to my surprise, because of all the ones that I’ve done this is the first, I came across one that took place on a date on which I will have a radio broadcast within the current cycle of programmes that I’m preparing.

So on 21st March next year we’ll be having a live concert from the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago in 1974. This afternoon I’ve mixed the music for the concert and I’ve written half of the notes. I could have written more but unfortunately I was away with the fairies for a while at some point.

While I was at it, I came across a few other interesting bits and pieces, and finally turned my hand to downloading a concert that had been sent to me by one of the musicians who took part, featuring the almost-last concert on which my hero Deke Leonard played.

It’s a real pity though because of how the dates fall, this one won’t be broadcast for several years yet.

Tea tonight was one of my favourite quorn steaks in breadcrumbs, with baked potato and vegan salad. And it was delicious as always. Something that I eat every week but why not if I enjoy it.

So now I’m going to dictate the next batch of radio notes and then I’m going to try to go to bed at something like a reasonable time.

But talking of “Carry On Cowboy” reminds me of the two bandits (one of whom was Sid James) talking to the Indian chief Big Heap (Charles Hawtrey)

Big Heap – "And this is my son, Little Heap"
One Bandit – "How"
Other bandit (Sid James) – "How"
Big Heap – "And this is my squaw. I bought her for two buffalo skins"
One Bandit – "How"
Other bandit (Sid James) – "Never mind how. Where?"

Friday 9th August 2024 – I’M HAVING A …

… really bad day today

Or, in fact, I was having a really bad day yesterday because it’s now tomorrow as I’m typing all of this

It’s been one of those days where I’ve accomplished next-to-nothing, done nothing at all and whatever I have done just hasn’t gone according to plan.

It all went wrong on Thursday afternoon. As I mentioned, I fell asleep in the afternoon and was totally out of it for a couple of hours.

And so we had the inevitable result, which I now recognise after having had several months to work it out. Too physically exhausted to haul myself out of my comfortable chair but not tired enough to go to sleep.

And so here I sat for several hours trying to find the energy from somewhere to haul myself across the couple of feet between my chair and the bed. And it was long after 01:30 before I finally pulled myself together and pulled myself up by the bootstraps

That of course is all very well, but waking up at 05:30 was definitely not part of any plan, and neither was staying awake either but there I was, wide-awake but too physically exhausted to rise up from my stinking pit.

When the alarm went off at 07:00 I made it reluctantly into the bathroom to have a wash and so on, and then came back in here.

To my surprise, and probably yours, there was some stuff on the dictaphone from the night. I was with that old van from a couple of nights ago. I Had it back at our old house in Vine Tree Avenue. I took my tool box out ready to take away with me because my other car was parked in Edleston Road and needed picking up. The first thing that I needed to do was to check the keys. I had them but I didn’t actually have the keys for this old van. I thought that I must have left them in my coat on the inside. I went inside the van to fetch the coat and took out the keys from it and went to cross the two coats together as my battlefield cross but the big female lion objected and batted everything with her paw

As it happens, the van in my dreams I can see even now. It’s a light grey Austin A35 van and I certainly never ever had one of those when I was young. Probably the only vehicle that I didn’t own back in those days. I did have one of its big brothers, BILL BADGER, the Austin A60 or half-ton van that I mentioned yesterday. I paid £60:00 for that van, had it for several years, and had my money back several times thanks to the work that it did and the miles that we travelled, tucked in between the lorries on the motorway. No way was I going faster than about 50-55 mph with BMC’s single leading shoe drum brakes all round. Not even a hint of a disc brake.

When I was awoken by the alarm I was reliving an episode of DIRTY HARRY. Clint Eastwood had been detained in a roadside stop and made to sit on the pavement. While he was sitting there a policeman recognised him, came over and gave him a great big kick. Of course that inevitable started a riot and that was the point that I’d reached when the alarm went off. .

And so I must have gone back to sleep at some point. But it’s been a long time since there’s been a really good free-for-all down the High Street. We had a few in Chester in 1973-74 but that was about it.

The nurse was quite chatty today and had a lot to say for herself but I can’t remember much of it. She still thinks that I’m a wimp because I won’t take off this plaster on my arm but that’s how it is I’m afraid. As I’ve said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I’ll have the panic attack to end all panic attacks when it comes to coupling me up.

After she left I had breakfast and read my book for a while, reading about the lynchings in the town of Hell’s Gate, Montana, how nine people out of the 12 who lived there "died without going through the intermediate stage of being ill" as the author so eloquently put it.

Back in here it took me an age to come round to my senses, which is a surprise seeing how few senses I have these days. What shocked me out of my lethargic torpor was a message from my cleaner "mushrooms? I’m coming homs."

Blimey! It’s 12:30 already, I’ve done nothing and I’ll miss my slot for my LeClerc order. And now my cleaner is on her way home, if they don’t have what I want on delivery, it’s too late to buy it anywhere else now.

When my cleaner came round I was preparing my order from LeClerc so she added a few housekeeping items onto it and I sent it off.

The fridge had defrosted itself during the night so there was water all over the kitchen floor and donning waders and a lifejacket, my cleaner valiantly attacked the pool of water. And there I was thinking what a good job it was that we put down that lino on top of the wooden floor in the kitchen area.

This afternoon I’ve been hunting down another pile of concerts, comparing setlists and the like. And also tracking down missing tracks that were omitted from the published versions of live concerts.

The sad fact is that with almost every concert that I’ve encountered, the published version is often far shorter than the actual versions. What’s missing is sometimes much more interesting than what was included. For that reason you’ve probably never ever heard Joni Mitchell tell her audience that they were "behaving like a bunch of tourists" or Dennis Yeahy scream "brilliant!" in the middle of a Santana concert.

The shopping eventually turned up and I put most of it away, and then I came in here where I sat down and ran out of steam.

And here I’ve sat ever since then. I’ve had no food today since breakfast except a few crackers with my coffee and right now I’m beyond caring. And if I’m off my food you know that I’m not well.

But I’ll sort myself out and maybe find the energy from somewhere to go to bed. I dunno It’s been a strange day, a really long one, but although I’ve not crashed out at all, I’ve been too tired to do anything.

But if I can’t sleep tonight I’ll try counting sheep like that shepherd in Cumbria – "… five, six, seven, hello darling, nine …"
"Did you say ‘hello darling’ to sheep number eight?" asked a passing tourist
"Yes he did" replied the sheep. "He’s my fa-a-a-a-a ther"

Wednesday 7th August 2024 – HAVING TALKED LAST …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday 13th July 2024 – IT LOOKS AS …

…. if we’re back on these rally long, difficult afternoons when I’m fast asleep for several hours, totally unaware of what’s going on around me.

And not just for an hour or two but I DO mean several hours. I remember it being 14:30 at one point but the next thing that I knew, it was almost 18:00 and I seem to have wasted almost an entire afternoon.

And that’s a shame because I can waste enough time with all my own efforts without actually needing any help.

Last night I fell asleep quite quickly too once I made it into bed and I can’t remember very much about the night.

Mind you, there wasn’t all that much to remember because once more, it was quite late by the time that I hit the sack. It didn’t take long for STRAWBERRY MOOSE to have me tucked up and comfortable.

When the alarm went off I fell out of bed and went off to the bathroom, grabbing a set of clean clothes on the way and rounding up all the dirty clothes and so on in the apartment

After I was washed and cleaned, it was the turn of the clothes. They all went into the washing machine and I set that off on a cycle. A very clever washing machine, mine.

Back in here I had a listen 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 n such luck. It seems that TOTGA, Castor and Zero have deserted me.

Instead, we started off last night giving someone some driving lessons. We were driving around end ended up with me being admitted to the hospital, not because of an accident but that was probably where the car was on its way to take me. I was admitted to hospital and put into a ward. This was when there was a native uprising. Out outpost was attacked about three or four different times and it degenerated into a conflict like the conflict in ZULU at Isandlwhana … "Rourke’s Drift actually, but never mind" – ed …, half a dozen gallant defenders defending the compound of about 30 people against a horde of marauding savages. What happened in my version was that we had half a dozen or so military people and probably twenty civilians. The civilians weren’t all that keen on defending themselves and thought that we ought to negotiate, which, seeing as the tribes had negotiated with no-one else was a strange decision. They were very reluctant to take any precautions whatsoever and we had to force through. In the end we had the buildings fortified but they were so scattered that they were not much use to anyone really

Yes, I can’t imagine dividing your scanty defences and forces to try to defend every building. It was a maxim of Frederick the Great that "If you try to hold everything, you hold nothing" and we would have been much better off to burn all of the buildings except one and fortify that. And trying to persuade civilians to fight is sometimes extremely difficult, as long as there are other people there to do the fighting for them. Could you imagine how these politicians would fare if they had to pick up a gun and go to the Front.

The team from Llansawel figured again later on. They had started to make one or two signings but there was no signing that really impressed me any, just general run-of-the-mill mainstream Premier players. There was nothing there that they signed that indicated to me that they were hoping for a long and successful life in the JD Cymru League that at the end of their first season would see them relegated back to the regional leagues and someone else would come and take their place which of course would be with the gulf between Tier 2 and Tier 1 it’s only unfortunately to be expected.

And that’s a story that we’ve seen time and time again, of teams being promoted to the Premier Division and relegated straight away. It’s not that they are particularly weak, but that other teams are strengthening. This can be measured by comparing the results of Welsh teams in European competition. When they began to compete in Europe 30 years ago the best Welsh teams were often on the wrong end of some embarrassing scorelines but we saw only this week that even Caernarfon, who finished fifth in the table, can give an experienced European team like Crusaders a little lesson in football.

Liz was on line this morning so we had a long chat that went on for an hour or so while the nurse was taking my blood sample. And for a change, the sample was easy to extract and I don’t know why other people have so many issues about it. It was done in two minutes.

Isabelle sorted out my legs and then left taking away the blood and the “other” sample, and I carried on chatting to Liz over breakfast until she had to go off and do other things.

There were other things that I needed to do to but at 11:00 I had a phone call from my friend Robert who lives in the Orkneys (or Shetlands, I can’t remember now). We have a little project on the go and we shall be working on this for a while, maybe with the help of one or two other people.

But more of this anon

After the ‘phone call I hung up my washing and that should be drying nicely now. For a change, everything is up-to-date in that respect, and that’s not something that happens every day

Lunch was a salad sandwich with the last of the home-made bread so I made a mental note to make another loaf. I’ll need bread for the next few days, but I’ll also be taking some sarnies with me to the hospital. I know that their idea of food and my idea of food are likely to be different and I don’t intend to starve.

It was while I was sitting down refreshing myself ready to make the bread that things all went pear-shaped. And it wasn’t until about 18:00 that I began to make the bread.

While I had the oven on for the baking I baked some potatoes and one of those breaded quorn fillets that I like so much. No point in only having half an oven filled with stuff. I may as well fill as much as I can.

To pass the time while I was waiting for things to happen I wrote out some notes for one of the radio programmes that’s on the go at the moment. Every little time spent on it helps in the long run.

Tea tonight was a salad with my things out of the oven and it was quite a success, although I must admit to looking forward to the day that I will be in the apartment downstairs with a proper oven and not a little table-top one like I have.

So now I have some dictating to do, and then I’m off to bed ready to fight the good fight tomorrow.

But thinking about my dream reminds me of a conversation that I overheard at a football match a while back.
One guy was telling his friend "I was playing cards with some Africans last night"
"Zulus?" asked his friend
"No, I won fifty quid"

Sunday 30th June 2024 – I’M NOT SURE …

… how long I can keep this all going. Throughout the last few months I’ve had plenty of moments when I wished that I could just close the book, lie down and go to sleep. And believe me, I had one or two of those during the day today

It’s not anything physical – well, it is, my physical condition is deteriorating rapidly, but what I mean is that there’s no pain or suffering or anything like that, at least, not yet. It’s the effect that it’s all having on my mental well-being that’s dragging me down

Doing almost anything is a complicated affair, trying to work out how I’m going to do whatever it is that I have to do while manipulating … "PERSONipulating" – ed … a pair of crutches. My whole life has become one of simple logistics.

“Simple” was the word, nothing complicated last night about going to bed. I was in bed by 23:30 so with the alarm set for 08:00 for a Sunday, for once I was set to have something of a decent lie-in.

And so it goes without saying that I was wide awake at 07:00, up and about at 07:30 and when the alarm did go off at 08:00 I was already washed, dressed and at the computer.

The nurse came round at about 08:30 to sort out my legs. She showed me her photos from last weekend at Lyon and some of them were really good.

While she was here and in a receptive mood I told her (in polite, sensitive terms of course) that I felt that the two nurses ought to be keeping a closer watch on how my condition deteriorates, and how disappointed I was that they let me get into such an awful state a couple of weeks ago.

She explained that all of that should have shown up in the various blood tests that I’d had and had the hospital or my GP looked at them closely they would have seen for themselves without the need to look at me, just how badly things were going.

There is naturally some truth in this, but nevertheless I suspect that there’s also a certain amount of buck-passing there too.

After she left I had breakfast, and then I had letters to write.

Two of the letters were painful. One was to tell my tenant in the apartment downstairs that I won’t be renewing the lease when it expires next Spring – or, at least, instruct the letting agent to do so.

Then I can move in. On the ground floor too so I can move around outside easier. I’ll smash out the bath and have a walk-in shower, and there will be a “kitty corner” for a new sub-tenant who will no doubt pay her rent in dead seagulls.

What could possibly go wrong?

As for the second, I’d rather not talk about that but someone who follows these pages will know about it.

What completed the morning was going away with the fairies for an hour or two. In fact Rosemary awoke me because she wanted a chat.

She’s still gallivanting around Italy and wanted to tell me what a good time she’s been having. As a result, we had another one of our mega-chats that goes on for ever.

She was also telling me that she had, in a moment of reckless abandon, volunteered for midwife duties despite knowing nothing whatsoever about babies, children, giving birth and all of that.

We joked about that famous line in THE WILD BUNCH when William Holden says "What I don’t know about, I sure as hell am gonna learn".

A baby however is more complicated than a machine gun, that’s for sure.

While we’re on the subject of babies … "well, one of us is" – ed … for the last couple of days I’ve had an overwhelming desire for baked beans on toast. I’m certain that I’m not pregnant; nevertheless the feeling has been growing stronger and stronger.

Having travelled the World, qt least, the Northern hemisphere part of it, I can say without fear of contradiction that no-one, no-one at all anywhere in the World that I have visited, makes baked beans like the Brits. Not even the “British recipe” ones in Maritime Canada.

When Liz and Terry were here last year or whenever it was they brought a tray of beans and I baked a loaf on Friday so at lunchtime I satiated my desire. Mind you, nice though as it was, I could sit down and eat it all over again.

This afternoon I transcribed the notes on the dictaphone. I was working for a hardware place last night. It was one of these places that had a really structured format – people entered at the bottom of their grades and slowly worked their way up their grades, all the way through and out to the top. There were several young guys who had started a while back who were near the bottom but I’d been watching their progress a little and was quite pleased that they seemed to be very apt and very capable, very willing to push hard and progress so I encouraged them. Then a girl joined. She seemed to think that she was entitled to everything because she had a superior education. She made a few comments to these people which I thought was poor but I let them pass. One day there was a question of someone having to stay overnight so we agreed that we’d all do it. Someone said that they’d have to bring their child in. They brought in their child and tucked it up. And when their part of the night finished we tucked them up in the bed with the child and carried on working. Towards the morning the child awoke – awoke with a start – and was so worried about where it was, it had school and it was panicking around so we tried our best to reassure it but it was panicking. Suddenly its portable alarm went off, which added to the confusion. But the girl whom I mentioned who was having a few things to say about the situation so I reminded her that we were all trying to do a very difficult job etc. I happened to mention these boys and said that she needn’t think that she was the only game in town because they were pushing on. They were quite capable too so she shouldn’t be surprised if one day she found herself cornered out by these guys. She replied “oh, you’ve noticed too, have you?” and mentioned one of them, how good he was when he’d had his medication, which was something of a dig but again I let it pass. I could see that this girl was going to need some extremely careful handling. If she’s not careful she’ll end up running this department, running my job, I’ll be nowhere. I wasn’t convinced that her personality was the correct personality to make any progress in this company, being so pushy and aggressive when these other people are being so smooth and calm.

And we’ve all worked with people like that, who come into a business and think that they can run it from Day One by upsetting everyone and everything

This female officer arrived at our unit – tall and thin, dark hair and with something to prove, so she thought, and was determined to make her mark on us but we were old sweats at this. We knew full well that it didn’t work like that but we were prepared to give her a little rope. It concerned some kind of little battle that was noisy and violent but didn’t last long. She was wondering why she hadn’t been invited to take part. We explained that it was all over so quickly that there wasn’t really time to go in for an organised formation. We just had to defend our position ad lib which we did. By the time that she arrived the firefight was over. So she carried on talking but let it go, but made it quite clear that she wanted to go on our next operation no matter what it was and where it was to so we made a note. The next night we were asked to go on an armed reconnaissance in force into the trenches as far as a small village a mile or so away where we had to pin everyone down, including the chief of the defending army while our Army somewhere else did something different. We worked out all of our plans and arranged that this woman would be called at the very last minute and be expected to travel in the state in which she appeared because she didn’t look the type. She looked the type who needed an hour’s preparation for a photograph. We were all preparing and were on the point of calling her when she suddenly appeared and wanted to know why she hadn’t been called. I replied that we hadn’t been mustered to set off yet, it was our sole preparation time and we were preparing. She wondered why she hadn’t been asked to prepare. I explained that at the last meeting that we’d had, she explained to us that she was always ready so we assumed that if she said that she was always ready then she was always ready and needed no preparation. She could step into the car at the very last minute and come with us. She was not satisfied with any of this explanation but we made sure that it was our version that was written on the combat reports so that Head Office could actually see it

And here we go again with a similar situation, people coming in and not having the patience to look around and see how the system works and how everything functions. After all, it was functioning quite well before they arrived.

Later on we had to go to Disney to meet those people from yesterday By the time everyone had finished walking on the beach and preparing, we were about an hour late at the meeting point. But we turned up all the same and had to fight our way down the queues. There was a sign that read “entry today 60p” so we prepared 60p but when we reached the machine it was 89p. We all thought that that was highly illegal so we fumed and moaned but sorted out some cash instead, paid and went in, picking up our free tickets and vouchers. The coffee came in huge, enormous mugs but it was freezing cold . I don’t know where they’d had this coffee stored. The food was typical “Tricatel” stuff slopped on your plates. It seemed that no-one in my group was worried about meeting these two other people from yesterday. It seemed that there was no sense of time or sense of urgency. All one guy was doing was busy changing the label he’d put round his baby daughter’s face mark so he wouldn’t hit him in the face. No-one seemed to care. I thought that this was a very strange way to be running any kind of business – someone should have found these people’s phone numbers and phoned them but it was nothing to do with me. I let the other people make the arrangements and it was easy to be totally fouled up and what was worse was that no-one seemed to be bothered about it.

And which “people from yesterday”? This journey sounds like a typical cock-up organised in just the way that anything would be organised within our family. The importance of rendez-vous is “who, when and where” expressed briefly and succinctly , not this total anarchic chaos that seems to pervade just about everything and hoping for the best, something that never ever happens.

There was the question of the publication of a children’s book which had been done to a certain type of formula prepared by another Society. Halfway through the proceedings the other society had withdrawn its permission. Now it was taking on a whole new meaning as there had to be a whole new redesign of the work that had been done. Somehow was involved in this but I had a feeling that things were not going correctly, that one of our employees for reasons best known to himself was dragging his heels with this and making life difficult so we tried to chivvy him along but it didn’t seem to work. It was causing all kinds of problems. The document checks weren’t working out very well, standard phrases had to be re-written etc. In the end I finished a pile of work, put it in a container and posted it in one of these aerial vacuum systems somewhere. It fed into the circuit just as someone went into there to reach for a document. The whole thing of my work fell onto his shoulder. I thought to myself “he won’t do that again in a hurry, will he? He’ll know what to expect the next time that he’ll try to fetch something from the vacuum system”.

And there’s always one of those in every organisation too, someone who slows down other people’s creative spirit because he never thought of the idea first so he doesn’t want it to work at any price.

But having complained the other day about the poor quality of recent dreams, last night made up for a lot of it. All I need now is Castor, Zero and TOTGA to come and cheer me up.

It might have been possible for them to come this afternoon because I was away with the fairies yet again for a couple of hours, but no such luck.

But that’s what’s depressing me – this continual crashing out during the day. Rosemary thinks that I’ll feel much better once the dialysis begins. Quite frankly, I couldn’t feel much worse.

There was time to complete another radio programme before tea tonight. I edited some text that I’d dictated last night before going to bed, and then assembled a programme completely.

Grahame says that he’s surprised that I’m still bashing out the radio programmes, and so am I. There’s bound to be a point where my eyesight will fail completely or else I’ll be spending too much time asleep, but we’re not quite there yet.

Tea was of course a vegan pizza. I’d taken a lump of dough out of the freezer after lunch and when it had thawed I rolled it out and assembled it.

On that note I’ll clear off and go for an early night. But before I go I’ll leave you with another one of my heroes.

Not the Irish politician Sir Boyle Roche this time, but the baseball coach Laurence Peter “Yogi” Berra
When asked how he wanted his pizza sliced, whether in 6 slices or 8 slices, he replied
"You better slice it in six. I don’t think that I could manage eight slices."

Sunday 23rd June 2024 – I’M ABSOLUTELY WHACKED!

Yes, again!

And even worse and more tired than the other day when I was so tired that I really hoped that the World would end.

Once again, it was being in the kitchen that did it and once again it involved food. I’m pleased to say that it was a worthwhile exercise as the table is now groaning with victuals and I won’t ever starve again.

In fact it’s been an extremely busy 24 hours. Before going to bed I dictated a pile of radio stuff. Not all of it because there’s more there than any one man can handle in one sitting, but it’s part of the backlog out of the way.

And as for the new ZOOM H8, I wish that I knew where the tone controls are. When I’m dictating it sounds as if I have my head in a bucket.

What I did took me up until midnight and it was about 00:30 when I crawled under the covers. It didn’t take me long to drop off, that’s for sure.

There was another phantom alarm this morning at about 06:15 and I was halfway out of bed thinking that it was the real alarm before I worked out what it was. Someone had sent me a text message and it was the “alert” on my phone that had awoken me this morning.

What a way to start the day on a Sunday! I climbed back into bed for a couple of hours extra sleep.

When the alarm finally went off I fell out of bed, washed and dressed and proceeded to await the nurse. He didn’t have much to say for himself today but he seems to be more friendly all round so I’ve no idea what’s happening.

Hr sorted me out with my puttees and so on and then cleared off. I sat around for a few minutes to catch my breath and then went to make breakfast – porridge and nice, strong coffee.

There was some stuff on the dictaphone from the night. And it’s rather ominous. I was back in Bomber Command but for some reason or other I ended up in hospital. You could tell by the long faces of the nurses that it was pretty serious. One day they announced that they were having to move the hospital. Most of the patients would be evacuated but some patients would have to stay behind as being too ill to move like that. I found to my horror that I was actually one of those being left behind. We were just going to be left in the battle zone and everyone else would clear off out of the way. This was what made me realise now that this was going down the final stretch of my illness and this would be it

And then later on I slipped right back into that dream. It kept on recurring two or three times before the alarm went off

It’s the idea of it being a recurring dream that’s unsettling. I mentioned yesterday that some people seem to think that I’m more ill than I think that I am (if that’s even possible) and this dream seems to underline it. With a visit to the surgeon during the week, it’s not really the correct time to have dreams like this at all.

The rest of the morning was spent relaxing, “saving my strength for the struggle that lies ahead” as Professor Janssens at Castle Anthrax mentioned. I’m sure that she didn’t mean “the kitchen” but that’s where I’ve spent most of the afternoon.

Having been slaving away over a red-hot stove all afternoon, I now have in the kitchen …

a loaf of bread, nice, big, soft and fluffy just like bread should be
a vegan flapjack, ready in case I have to go back to the hospital
24 raisin and orange biscuits that should have been cranberry and orange but I had no cranberries
the pièce de resistance – the usual Sunday pizza

With not having much room to work, with only a small oven and being on crutches, it involved quite a juggling act in order to make it all and then fire it up in the oven. It was so exhausting that at one stage when I sat down I crashed out and it was only Liz texting me that saved a disaster in the oven, awakening me just in time.

But while I was asleep I was away with the fairies again There was something about the turret of an Avro Lancaster but instead of four guns it only had one fitted. This sounded as if it might have been an interesting dream but I’m glad that I awoke anyway.

In between all of this there were other fish to fry.

Firstly, during one pause I listened to and edited the notes that would finish off one of the radio programmes. It ended up over-running by 19 seconds but there was 18.993 seconds of music that could be over-dubbed as it happened

Later, we had football. I mentioned the other day that I was glad that I wasn’t hospitalised during the football season. That would have been a disaster.

Mind you, as the Duke of Wellington said after the Battle of Waterloo, it was "the nearest run thing you ever saw in your life". Pre-season friendlies are now slowly springing into life and this afternoon we had Stranraer v Larne, the old “Seasick Derby”.

It was a quiet game without much excitement but Larne scored a belting goal after 61 minutes, only to concede an even better one 5 minutes later.

1-1 in a game where neither side broke out into a sweat was about right. Larne are playing in the Champions League next month and they are going to have to play much, much better than this if they want to go anywhere and do anything.

When I recovered my form and strength I went back and carried on in the kitchen and then once it was clean, tidy and all washed up, I could sit down to my delicious pizza.

and now that I’ve eaten my pizza I can sit down and finish my notes before going to bed. And won’t I be pleased to finally call it a day today? I mean – I’m surprised to be retired and supposed to be dying. Yet I don’t think that I’ve ever worked so hard in my life as I have these last few days.

The kind of people I used to know (with one or two exceptions) were summed up by the guy who; told me that he really liked work
"Is that so?" I asked him with a trace of bitterness
"Ohh absolutely" he replied keenly. "I can sit and watch it for hours"

Wednesday 29th May 2024 – IN THE MIDDLE …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monday 13th May 2024 – TODAY HAS BEEN …

… a somewhat better day than yesterday, which is good news as far as I am concerned

And so it should be because yesterday was a pretty miserable one.

At least today I’ve managed to be able to leave my comfortable chair (up to present anyway) which is more than can be said on one occasion yesterday

At the end of the evening last night I did actually manage it again and was able to haul myself off to do whatever I need to do around the apartment before going to bed.

But going to bed was another adventure and I really felt at one moment as if I’d be sleeping for the night on my chair. And no joke – I actually know a lady in Canada who does just that. But her own chair of course, not mine.

After something of a considerable effort I managed to find my way into bed where I had another really turbulent night. God knows what it would be like if I had to share my bed with another person.

The night was completed by a couple of false alarm calls and I’m really bewildered as to what it might be that I’m hearing that’s awakening me like this under pretext that it’s my alarm.

Eventually though the 07:00 alarm went off and I had to fight the good fight to make my way out of bed to switch the alarm calls off, cutting off BILLY COTTON in his prime.

And I awoke to vision problems. The illness is spreading through my nervous system and so it’s bound to reach the eyes sooner or later, and one of the side effects of one of the pills that I’m taking is “disturbed vision”. I suppose that if it had to look at me for all this time, no wonder that it’s disturbed.

After the bathroom I went to the dining area for all of my medication and then to lay out the room for Isabelle the nurse. This is her last visit for a week so she’s off tomorrow – for 5 days in Lisbon. It’s all right for some, isn’t it?

She instructed me to wash my puttees for the boss, with whom she alternates, so I’ll do that this evening. Lucky that I have a spare set.

When she left I came back in here to see what was going on. First of all, if you want to see (some of) the highlights of the game between Y Drenewydd and Penybont to see just how bad Y Drenewydd were then LOOK HERE. but be prepared to hide behind the sofa as things become scary.

The highlights of CAERNARFON v CARDIFF METRO show a much more even but rather distorted view of that game. The truth is that Caernarfon were rampaging forward throughout the game, to the delight of the Cofi Army, the most passionate fans in Europe, but the Met just hit them on the break three or four times.

After my toast (the last of the bread that I made last week) and coffee I set myself an exciting project. I have a radio programme on the 14th February 2025 (if I’m still here) and 14th February 1970 is the date that LIVE AT LEEDS one of the greatest live albums ever, was recorded at Leeds University.

The live album itself is only 37 minutes long but I was absolutely certain that the concert itself would have been much longer than that.

The setlist is available on SETLIST.FM and it can’t have been less than two hours so I set myself a task to prove that I am worthy, and that was to track down a recording of the entire concert. There must be one somewhere.

And sure enough, after some diligent searching, I can now tell you that the concert lasts 2:07:04 and that’s some going. I can see me doing a lot of editing.

After my lunchtime fruit and a discussion with my cleaner, I had a listen to the dictaphone. And I was right because there certainly was a couple of false alarms. However I started off in the Soviet Union during the war there was a huge loss of male population so as some kind of Commissar I tried to organise means to increase the population. I found a book written by some obscure author on this point that promoted the idea so I praised him and praised his thoughts etc. It then turned out that Stalin had another opinion, another idea, and I had quickly to undo the praise that I’d done and given the author. One of my nieces had become pregnant in this project so we had to find her and give her an abortion but she was full of praise for this guy and totally refused to co-operate. That made life difficult for all of us

Mind you, I could think of several ways in which I could help increase the population of another country without having to rely on any author – except perhaps whoever was the author of the Karma Sutra

First false alarm at 04:10 – I was dreaming at the time that I was still working for the Soviet Union. Another book had been examined about someone’s sporting achievements but as usual he’d fallen foul of the regime so we’d had to edit it all out from any future book. The guy himself was called to a meeting. He eventually arrived, having had a conflict with a group of females on the doorstep and as he switched to the news we saw a huge supertanker of ICI had run aground on one of the inland lakes and they were now waiting for a change in the tide so that they could try to float it off

And don’t worry if nothing makes sense. I can’t understand it either.

Another call at 06:06 – a false alarm

What I was dreaming of at 06:06 was of some old man living on the street who was always there with his sign and a list of the things that he needed. He was arrested in Leeds, for vagrancy presumably and was carted off. We didn’t see him for several months. Then after several months had passed we saw him again on the streets of Liverpool with two signs saying “the seeds of business £25”. He was saying that he’d expanded his area of research from what he had learned at police college

The rest of the day has been working on more radio stuff. All of the music has been chosen for the next radio programme, it’s been paired off and I’ve started to write the notes. It’ll be quite a sad one because it will be broadcast on the anniversary of the death of one of my friends and will include one of his more … errr … esoteric tracks.

My cleaner came back with supplies and a neighbour came to visit. I really am in great demand these days and I’ve no idea why.

Tea was a stuffed pepper, delicious as usual with plenty of stuffing left over for the next couple of days. I should take advantage of it, after all, many people have told me that I need a good stuffing.

But on the subject of all things Russian during the night, Zero once told me that at school she’d taken part in a Russian ballet.
"Why Russian?" I asked her.
"I don’t know" she replied. "I suppose that it’s because I had to go Russian onto the stage at the start, go Russian around while the music played, and then go Russian off at the end."

Sunday 28th April 2024 – IT WAS THE …

… Welsh Cup Final earlier this evening and so I’m running horribly late.

Not that I’m complaining because it was one of the best matches that I’ve seen for several years, I reckon, and I’m glad that I watched it.

Other glad tidings are that I was in bed at a reasonable time so that I was able to profit by my extra hour in bed, with the alarm not being set until 08:00. And once again it was another peaceful, tranquil night where I can’t remember awakening at all.

A few more nights like this will do me the world of good, I reckon.

When the alarm went off I fell out of bed as usual and crawled across to switch it off. Then I staggered into the bathroom to have a wash and so on.

While I was taking my tablets the doorbell buzzed to say that the nurse was in the building and when she’d finished with my neighbour she’d be here, so I had to quickly arrange the room how she likes it.

When she came in she told me that she’d been back to the office to check for this prescription but it still wasn’t there. I told her that I’d rung the number and it was definitely the Health Centre in Granville that had rung so she promised to talk to the secretary on Monday to find out more.

Then she dealt with my foot, put on my puttees and left to deal with her next lot of clients elsewhere.

Once she’d gone I had come instant coffee and cornflakes for breakfast, and then came in here to watch yesterday’s game where Forfar Athletic beat a very poor Stranraer side 2-0 in a game that has stuck Stranraer at the foot of Scottish League 2 and in danger of being relegated out of the league.

Searching through the directories on the big computer I came across some radio notes that I’d dictated but hadn’t yet edited so this afternoon’s task was to do that.

Despite a variety of interruptions, including falling asleep a couple of times, that’s all edited and the programme is assembled as far as I can. The final track has been chosen but I need to write, dictate and then edit down some notes for it so that I can finish it off As I said yesterday, there’s now quite a backlog of stuff that needs dictating.

There was some stuff on the dictaphone from the night too. I was dreaming about an election for Prime Minister. Everyone thought that the situation was pretty much cut and dried so I decided that I’d throw my hat into the ring. That upset everyone. They couldn’t even remember the password for the coffee machine for me so that I could have some coffee. When we went to a meeting they had to pick me up. They weren’t sure what to do with me, where to put me. We encountered Boris Johnson on the way. He was driving a double-decker bus. He was going to stand for election too. They were quoting the odds on who was going to have the job. It was evidently their preferred candidate and someone else to pretend to challenge them. The whole idea that there would be a third realistic candidate such as me completely upset their whole apparatus. They had to begin too frame questions to ask me to make it appear that they were giving me a fair crack of the whip. This involved an incredible amount of work for them that they didn’t really want to do and didn’t really see why they had to do it but millions of people were expecting it and of course that’s how it should be done anyway so I upset the whole apple cart with this standing for President or whatever but I was determined to see it through, simply to expose their lazy and corrupt practices

Any election process that can elect people like Boris Johnson, Liz Truss and Donald Trump to high office needs to be confronted and challenged. Anyone who remembers MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL and laughed at the scene about STRANGE WOMEN LYING IN PONDS DISTRIBUTING SWORDS will have to admit today that it’s a far better system than the one that elects Johnson, Truss or Trump.

And then we had the football. The Welsh Cup Final between Connah’s Quay Nomads and TNS, with TNS aiming to complete the treble and be the first club to go through an entire season of competitive matches without being beaten.

Last week the two teams met in the league with TNS winning 2-0 and Connah’s Quay lucky to get nil, and we were expecting something similar today.

It’s been shown though that TNS’s defence is not as solid as it might be and teams that have been brave enough to take the game to them rather than sitting back defending the rampant attackers have had some kind of success, and that’s precisely what Connah’s Quay did.

They were 2-1 up at half-time and then during the second half weathered the inevitable storm with some desperate last-ditch tackles to deservedly lay their hands on the cup.

You can see the highlights HERE but they only show about a quarter of what I would have included. But at least you’ll get to see one of the best goals scored this season.

Tea tonight was a lovely vegan pizza. Another one of the interruptions was to make the pizza dough as I’d run out so I whipped up a batch this afternoon. Two lumps are in the freezer for another time and the third lump was rolled out and put on its tray to proof.

After the football I assembled it, baked it and ate it. And it was delicious too.

So, much later than I hoped, I’m going to bed to have some pleasant dreams, I hope, before I do battle with the nurse again. And then there’s plenty of work to do like radio stuff and all of that. And I need to catch up on the Welsh that I’ve missed these last two weeks

While I’ve been in hospital there’s been quite a lot of stuff that I’ve let slide away out of sight that I need to catch up. We know the old saying that “work expands to fill the time available” but I wish that the reverse were true and that the time would expand to fit all of the work that needs to be done.

It reminds me of one of the people with whom I used to work years ago. "He does the work of two men, him" his colleagues would say
"Is that so?" I asked
"That’s right" they would reply. "Laurel and Hardy"

Tuesday 16th April = I’M IN THE …

… cardiac unit of the regional hospital at Avranches while they try to work out why my blood results have gone so berserk just now.

To say that things are not unfolding as well as I would like is proving to be something of an understatement.

It goes without saying that last night I didn’t have much sleep. These hospital beds such as the one on which I was trying to sleep aren’t actually made for comfort and then of course the surroundings weren’t actually comfortable.

To my great surprise though there was something on the dictaphone so at some point I must have dropped off into the Land of Nod. At one point I was dreaming that I was thirsty so I opened my mouth and grabbed hold of a hose but it was the green house of the car and I think that that was where air came out. I felt so stupid not knowing that the green hose was not water at all but it was something else and I didn’t know it.

When the alarm went off (yes, an alarm. Bane of Britain strikes again!) I was a dispatcher for the US Air Force arranging their planes to go off on bombing missions against the Germans in their big Superfortresses … "actually B-17 Flying Fortresses" – ed … etc. It involved finding crews, preparing the crews for departure, putting them in their aeroplane, making sure that when they took off they knew where their meeting point was, over which beacon etc, generally keeping up with the thousands of changes that would take place during the course of the preparation of the mission

Of course they would actually be Flying Fortresses. It would be extremely rare to say the least to find a Superfortress flying on combat in the European theatre of operations. An expensive aeroplane such as that would have been a luxury when its advantages (super-long range and extremely high altitude) wouldn’t be reached anywhere where it would be required to deliver a bomb-load in Europe. Dollar for dollar, a Flying Fortress could drop many more bombs on Germany.

Of course, dispatching would be nothing new as far as I would be concerned. By air though would be a totally new medium but the principle would be pretty-much the same as by road.

However, retournons à nos moutons as they say around here, and things developed as I expected. I’ve been here before, once in Verdun and once in Winnipeg and the results were the same.

Luckily, with having expected it, the necessary precautions had been taken and it wasn’t as embarrassing as it might otherwise have been.

Naturally, I refused any food for breakfast while things tried to settle (a forlorn hope) but at least they moved me to a more convenient location, a little side room off the emergency treatment area, where things could evolve in comparative peace.

Nevertheless a few people came to see me, including the duty doctor. She told me at first that they were planning to keep me under observation for 24 hours and then send me home, but when she saw what was going on, she went away for another think.

In the meantime my blood tests came back. Something in my blood that should be less than 100 and I’ve been living with figures in the 260-270 range for the last few years has suddenly shot up to 316 in the period since my last blood test.

Apparently those kinds of figures won’t usually support life and they are quite concerned. Consequently an ambulance pulled up and I was bundled on a stretcher and stuck in the back.

So here I am at Avranches, 30 kilometres down the road where there’s a regional hospital.

Strangely enough, this was where it all started in March last year when the neurologist sent me here for tests and they couldn’t find the problem – hence my visits to Paris.

The hospital is an old monastery by the looks of things at the front, but there’s a whole huge new extension built on the back and it’s really quite nice and modern. The rooms are small but it’s not as if I need much

So here I am, being cared for and cossetted by a group of nurses. Actually, for the most part they are quite brusque and business-like which differs from most of the nurses in Paris who are much more patient-orientated, but I suppose that they have much more work to do and can’t find the time to be as sociable

While I was asleep at some point during the afternoon there was a dream about a lorry driver who was saying something about how easy it was to set himself up in business. He had a tanker lorry but I remember him having an old “D”-registered ex-RAF tanker before that one. He had several trailers that ere quite substantial trailers and I was saying that he didn’t pick these up for peanuts, and by the looks of things were specially-made. It was quite obvious to me that yes, you can set yourself up in business but you need to have the kind of capital to ba able to do that kind of thing. That’s not just available to everyone at all

And that reminds me of someone I know who lives in the countryside a few miles south of Nantwich, who made a fortune simply by being willing to go crawling and climbing where other people dared not go

The food here is the usual hospital rubbish, I have to say, so it’s a good job that I’m not feeling in the mood to eat anything right no, which is just as well.

And so I’m going to try to sleep – a forlorn hope, I reckon. I’m feeling a little better, but not that much.

I’ve set the bed fairly high so it’s easier for me to get out and in without any help (something that will be quite important as the night develops) but they aren’t happy about it and keep on trying to lower it. I’m winning the fight at the moment but things will almost inevitably change as the night goes on.

It’s “visions of Bernard Bresslaw” in CARRY ON DOCTOR hobbling around with his leg in plaster
"What’s the matter with you?" asked Frankie Howerd
"Appendicitis" said Bresslaw
"So why the plaster on the leg?"
"I fell off the operating table"

Sunday 7th April 2024 – I’VE HAD ANOTHER …

… horrible, gruesome, miserable day today again.

And if you thought that the one the other day was bad, this beats is easily. In fact it beats any day that I have ever had and I wish that I were dead.

It was at about 05:30 when I awoke this morning which, considering that once more I didn’t go to bed until long after midnight, is simply not enough.

Whatever it was that awoke me I really have no idea but I do know why I couldn’t go back to sleep, and that is this nerve ending in the sole of my right foot that is absolutely killing me.

It was doing its best to unsettle me last night, not without success. I’m getting to the stage where I’m simply afraid to move or to do anything in case it flares up again. And then after a while it flares up again all of its own accord anyway.

What would be nice would be in I knew what was causing it so that I didn’t do it again, but that’s far too easy a solution.

So when the alarm went off first thing that I did was to check the blood pressure. Maybe because of the stabbing pain in the sole of my foot it was 17.1/10.1 whereas last night, despite the stabbing pain then, it was 16.2/10.1

The nurse was early again today and I hadn’t finished my toilet so it was a very dishevelled me who went to meet him. And he’s given me instructions to wash the puttees for next time, but not to worry as I have the spare set which are already clean.

After he left I made myself some coffee and corn flakes, and went to carry on reading THE DAWN OF ASTRONOMY for a while.

Considering that the book is over 100 years old, it’s absolutely fascinating. It’s interesting to read his speculation about a lot of the ancient Egyptian temples, and then read subsequent modern research into the sites that proves his theories

The amount of old, interesting out-of-copyright books that I’ve found on these archiving sites is phenomenal and I’ve enjoyed every one.

Back in here I transcribed the dictaphone notes from the night last night. There was a group of girls being used as entertainers. I had a woman who wasn’t all that much older than me supervising them and making sure that they were well-behaved. While they were eating the supervisor was hanging around the girls so I wondered what was going on. I went over to find out. I found out that she had a series of plates, cups and saucers etc that were made in bright green plastic. She was trying to have her whole network to buy these products and use them so that she could identify them whenever she went away or was on some foreign soil etc but one or two of her members I suppose were quite keen on the idea but the rest weren’t so she was having a really difficult job trying to explain this to them.

When we were up in the High Arctic we were all given bright blue jackets. Firstly, they stood out really well against the snow and ice so that we could be seen quite easily in case we lost the way
Secondly many of our landings were dependent upon winds, currents, tides, polar bears and ice flow. All that could change in an instant and if we had to be called back to a zodiac or to THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR we could be distinguished quite easily from a local.

Not for nothing was our party always known as “The Smurfs”.

My jacket from 2018 is hanging up in my cupboard here, but the one from 2019 was last seen hanging from a coat hook in a hotel in Calgary with my notebook and a few other bits and pieces in its pockets.

The whole of my progress around the Northern Hemisphere is marked by the objects that I’ve left behind, scattered to the four winds like that

By now I’d crashed out, for the first (but not the last) time today and was gone on this occasion until 12:00.

But even though I was feeling so bad, worse than you will ever know, I pressed on as well as I could with my radio notes to try to make some kind of progress.

After lunch I crashed out again but managed to awaken in time to make a start on the biscuits. And nice as they are, they would have been even nicer had I remembered the desiccated coconut to go with the coconut oil that I put in there.

It’s just a basic 10/8/4 mix of flour, butter/oil and sugar with nutmeg, cinnamon, ground ginger and cocoa powder.

While the mixture was firming up in the fridge I was crashing out again and then while it was baking I was dealing with tonight’s pizza. Not that I wanted to because I wasn’t hungry but I forced myself. And you can tell that I’m ill when I’m off my food

To everyone’s surprise, especially my own, I’ve brushed up in here and washed the floor. I’m likely to have a visit tomorrow afternoon. A party of Auvergnats has now arrived in the immediate vicinity and I’m likely to be called forward for inspection.

So I’ll need to pretty myself up too – an impossible task these days, I know. But if I have a better night’s sleep that will be a start.

But talking about polar bears just now reminds me of the time that they decided to have some cycles available for the more intrepid tourist on THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR
Two polar bears were admiring the advert and one of them said to the other one "high time someone started a ‘meals on wheels’ service around the Arctic"

Friday 29th March 2024 – THIS MORNING AT …

… 04:30 I was up and about making bread, would you believe?

And I’m still up and about now. In fact, this is probably one of the very few times that I’ve actually sat down today.

Not that I’m complaining about the early start though. I made the nicest bread that I have ever made. It actually looked and felt (not to mention smelt) like proper bread, and I do have to say that it was a triumph.

If I could make bread like that all the time I would be more than happy. Especially as, being short of money, I would knead the dough.

Earlier this morning, at 04:11 to be precise because I looked at my watch, I awoke. And I couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how much I tried so in the end I abandoned the idea and went into the kitchen.

It didn’t take too long to knead the dough but what I’d done differently was to use a little more water than usual, and warmer water at that. and then rather fighting it, I folded it over and over, just as gently as if I was massaging Zero’s clavicles.

And not just once either but a couple of times to make sure that it was properly kneaded. And off we went. And up it went too. It rose faster than my blood pressure when I realised later in the day that I had forgotten to take it this morning. Last night’s was 18.1/10.4 by the way.

While it was rising I put it carefully aside. I don’t want any nurses poking and prodding it. But I tidied up the kitchen area a little because it’ll be busy in a couple of hours.

When the nurse arrived she put on my puttees, had a chat and then left, pleased that we’d ordered her supplies for her. And then, as LeClerc’s home delivery was now open, I sent off my order. “Delivery between 10:00 and 12:00”.

Next task was to transcribe the dictaphone notes from last night. There was some kind of art school taking place last night with human models being used in the sculpting and painting classes etc for people to practise drawing or working on human figures. When they began to introduce a second model to work as a pair with the first one there were quite a few people who objected and there were obvious reasons too. It caused a great deal of unrest and unease amongst everyone because many people believed that art was pure and could not be corrupted and other people who believed that corruption was everywhere in the world and this was just another part of it. There were two extremes of people who were busy arguing over what the models were supposed to be doing. Everyone else was really quite bewildered that someone could make such an issue about something that was so ordinary, familiar and so straightforward.

And that’s a common occurrence these days. I’m convinced that there are some people who have nothing better to do except trawl the internet or their immediate neighbourhood to find ways in which they might be offended

And when they do find something that offends them they spend all their time and effort actually aggressively trying to upset everyone else by forcing their viewpoints on the World and expecting the 98% majority to suppress their own interests in favour of those of the 2%

As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I have every sympathy with minority groups but sometimes consider that some of them go way beyond the bounds of what is reasonable behaviour.

When you see people complaining about what they see as pseudo-eroticism, like girls wearing bikinis and the like, and saying how indecent it is, that tells me far more about what’s going on in their mind than it does about what’s going on in the mind of the pseudo-offender.

And then I went back to sleep and this argument was still continuing. No-one was making any progress at all about either performing the piece of art or about having their points of view agreed. I quite simply didn’t understand the whole issue because there’s no objection to the art being displayed in museums etc and that’s where you’d think that people would be most upset but I dunno. I just didn’t understand it.

Later on I was still in this dream but I was actually dreaming it in Welsh. At one point while I was watching something on the TV there was a big crowd. I took something out of my pockets, some paper and rubbish, and simply threw it on the floor which was greeted by a barrage of heckling from the various people standing nearby. I didn’t just do it once but did it twice as well, I seemed to think, and it may have even been three times but I was having this dream in Welsh at that point.

So there I was, back in the same dream three times all told. And had I stayed in bed there might have been even more. But it was interesting that I was dreaming in Welsh because I’ve been thinking – and talking to myself – mainly in Welsh today which has surprised me. I must really have enjoyed that course.

As for talking to myself, of course I do. I’m reminded of Gandalf in LORD OF THE RINGS when he said "For I was talking aloud to myself. A habit of the old: they choose the wisest person present to speak to".

When the LeClerc delivery arrived I put away the frozen food and then had breakfast. And my hot cross buns are superb. They were a definite success too – well worth waiting for.

After putting away most of the food I set about blanching dicing and blanching the carrots, followed by the broccoli, ready for freezing.

And the cleaner caught me in flagrante delicto. She came in to tell me that I can’t have my injections any more.

The situation is that according to the prescription they can only be given if the blood tests show a result of less that a certain figure for something. But seeing as the prescription for the blood tests has run out and the tests aren’t being done, they can’t check the figure.

That sounds quite logical to me, but it meant that I had to sent an e-mail to the hospital to ask for clarification

So tonnes of carrots and broccoli to freeze, and there’s a broccoli stalk to make a soup tomorrow for midday – dipping my fresh bread into it too. It should be delicious.

There was football this afternoon – Colwyn Bay v Aberystwyth Town. Both teams propping up the table and they played like it too. Having seem the beautiful, flowing football of TNS last weekend, ths game was a disappointment.

Mind you, played on a swamp in a monsoon, that was hardly a surprise. Colwyn Bay have a beautiful ground as far as the grandstands and terracing go, but the pitch is awful.

Aberystwyth took the lead early on with a scrappy goal that was really the only exciting moment of the first half. Things improved for Colwyn Bay after the break and they looked more lively but it was the introduction of a couple of substitutes by each team on 75 minutes that livened up the game.

From then on, each team was throwing the kitchen sink at each other with gaps opening up everywhere in the defence as each side went on the attack, only to be caught out by a quick breakaway

Just as the game was going into stoppage time Colwyn Bay scored a dramatic equaliser, but blow me if Aberystwyth didn’t roar up the other end and score immediately.

So Aberystwyth won and move up above Pontypridd United, but things look dark for Colwyn Bay. And they’ll be even darker as they’ll be without manager Steve Evans next game. I don’t know what he said to the ref after the final whistle but it was worth a yellow card.

And then he must have said it again because he received another yellow card. So that’s him out of the dugout and in the stands for the next game.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I’m fed up of these petulant football players having crises all over the place during a game, and when the managers begin to do it, that really is the end.

The cleaner came not long after kick-off to do her stuff, and she left so quietly that I didn’t hear her go. But I now have a clean kitchen again which is nice.

The rest of the afternoon was either spend working on my Canada 2022 stuff or else, regrettably, asleep in my chair. Not that I’m complaining about that either. I’m surprised that I’ve kept on going as long as I have.

Tea was a burger on a bap, one of those burgers that I made from the stuff that my friend in Munich sent me. With chips and salad too, and it wasn’t disagreeable. It was rather gritty but that’s the ingredients I reckon and you can’t like everything absolutely

But it worked, and that was what counts.

Fighting with the freezer to put away the carrots and broccoli I dropped the carrots all over the floor. But picking them up (I’m glad that the floor is clean) I found the clip for the other puttees that I’d lost. Having found yesterday the other one that I lost a long time ago, I now have all four for each set which is just as well.

But I’ve also been busy booking Welsh courses. I’ve booked a week at the start of July with Coleg Cambria (and I hope that my own tutor isn’t tutoring it because doing a course with her two levels down would be embarrassing for both of us) and a two-week Summer School with Coleg Morgannwg at the end of August. So more “gyda” instead of “efo” for when I go back on my main course in September

It beats me though why Coleg Cambria’s courses are so early in the Summer break. I would have thought that they would have run their Summer courses just before the restart to set people off running when they start their next course.

But that’s enough from me for tonight. I’m off to bed. But doing all of these courses reminds me of the famous poem about Crawshay Bailey and his "engine
which was always wanting mending"
so
"he went to Cardiff College
for to get a bit of knowledge"
With this course at Coleg Morgannwg I’ll have been to most Colleges in the whole of South Wales "for to get a bit of knowledge" and it’s still not working, just like Crawshay Bailey’s engine.

It just reminds me of the small boy at school who had to repeat Year 6 three times. When asked how he felt about it he replied "I’m not bothered"
"Why’s that?" asked his parents
"At least I’m cleverer than my teacher"
"Why’s that?"
"Well" he replied "she was in Year 6 when I started at this school, she’s been in it all the time that I’ve been here and she’ll still be it again next year after I’ve left!"

Wednesday 27th March 2024 – A LITTLE EARLIER …

… this evening I was lying slumped over the edge of my desk, forehead leaning on the top, totally out of it altogether. Miles away from what was going on in the real world.

Since all of these problems began I’ve been having some weird sleeping fits to be sure, but this one totally beat anything that I have had to date. “Out like a light” was hardly the word.

Whatever is going on with me and my body right now totally defies all comprehension. There’s no logical reason for it at all, except to say that it must be one of the pills that I take.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that at first I thought that it was that horrible anti-potassium stuff. It certainly seems to be that which was making me have those hallucinations, but this crashing-out is carrying on nevertheless, so it must be one of the others

The hospital knows about it because I’ve mentioned it, but as yet they have taken no action. and I know what their response will be, because we’ve been here before. They’ll just give me another tablet to counter the problem, and then I’ll need yet another tablet to counter the side-effects of that one.

And so we’ll continue on … "and on, and on, and on etc" – ed …

It wouldn’t have done me much good last night either because once more I was hours late going to bed. There’s far too much to be doing here these days. Most of it just seems to be administration too and I’m beginning to think that “never mind a cleaner – I need a secretary”.

Still, I don’t think that I could pay a secretary to take my blood tests for me.

In bed, for what there was of it, was relatively relaxed and I wasn’t disturbed at all as far as I remember. But I would have loved an extra few hours in bed.

When the alarm went off I was in the middle of a really interesting journey but I immediately forgot all of it which was a shame, instead, I fell out of bed (literally) and went off to take the blood pressure. 15.9/9.0, which might sound high but nothing like as high as 19.4/11.2 which it was last night. What on earth was going on to make it so high?

The nurse came round later and I was lucky that I’d finished my wash and brush up by the time that she arrived. I’ve managed to persuade her to give a ring on the doorbell as she arrives so I’ll have a few minutes to prepare everything while she’s attending to my neighbour rather than just bursting in when I am incommunicado – and in somewhere else as well.

She almost forgot my injection this morning too. Apparently this “injection of the last resort” goes on for another three months and I’ve no idea what happens then. Anyway she remembered just in time (it’s no use asking me to remember anything these days) and so I’m like a dartboard again.

Checking my mails and messages I found a mail from an old friend of mine, someone with whom I’ve had no contact for almost 50 years.

He was a friend at school and we hung around together for a few years but then, like the Knights of the Round Table,WE WENT OUR SEPARATE WAYS. We do have a mutual contact and it seems that news about my condition is slowly circulating around.

It’s really nice to speak to people from the past like that. There’s a lot of catching up to do as our time draws slowly on to its conclusion. I say that because he’s not doing too well either.

Then I had to prepare for my Welsh lesson which didn’t take long.

And the lesson passed much better today than it has done over the previous two days and despite the fact that I can’t remember anything, I feel so much better about it. And that’s progress too.

The cleaner came round today too in order to make the place look pretty, and we went through the medication and made another list. She’ll go to the chemist’s tomorrow to order what I need, including some new injections, and pick it all up on Friday.

There was some stuff on the dictaphone too from the night. I’d started up in business again. I had a radio operator and driver for the daytime. And I did things a little on the way, like I made a little snack, something like baked beans on toast or mushrooms on toast or something, not very appetising or anything but at least I made sure that they had something to eat at lunchtime. I was sitting down doing a summary of everything and I asked how things were going. The subject of this food came up. They admitted that the food wasn’t particularly substantial but it was nice that I’d thought of them. They were really pleased about that but one girl had something of a moan about it. I’m not saying that she was wrong but I’m saying that there were limits as to what I could do during the daytime when I was supposed to be sleeping and that way they were lucky that they were receiving something.

And that would be a horror show if I started up in business again. I’ve had my fill of working hard for a living and the only kind of working in which I’m interested in doing is work where I’m sitting here at my desk within easy reach of the bathroom and the coffee machine.

That way, there’s only one person whose interests I have to look out for, and it’s not anyone else’s, that’s for sure. I’ve done enough of that, especially when its usually been the interests of the wrong people and not the interests of those who really matter.

But talking about food not being substantial, the thought of a good plate of beans on toast made my mouth water and had I had a loaf of bread here instead of baking it to order, I would have been really tempted.

While I was rummaging around looking for something or other I came across my collection of EAST OF EDEN albums.

Now that’s a blast from the past. They were a group from Bristol who buzzed around the festivals and concert circuits for years.

Apart from their hit single, JIJ A JIG that is nothing whatsoever like the rest of their music – they are a typical late-60’s rock band – their claim to fame is that violinist Dave Arbus was the musician who played violin on the Who’s BABA O’RILEY, one of the greatest singles of all time.

Once everything had calmed down I made a start on the next radio programme but regrettably I didn’t get very far, for reasons that I explained earlier. I can see this being a continual story.

Tea tonight was a delicious leftover curry, lengthened with some lentils, quinoa and peanuts, and accompanied by rice, veg and naan bread. And there’s no better meal than one of my leftover curries.

However I’ve now run out of dough for my naan breads so I’ll have to make some more for next week. We can’t be doing without that. Luckily I still have some soya yoghurt left.

But that reminds me – my biscuit-making operation (and delicious they are too) has meant that I’m running perilously low on vegan butter. I need to place an order for the food from LeClerc. I can’t be doing without my butter for my hot cross buns either.

It’s a surprise that I’m not putting on any weight with all of this food that I seem to be shifting. It’s rather like the little girl who noticed that her mummy’s stomach seemed to be growing bigger and bigger, so she asked her mummy about it.
"Well dear" said mummy "Daddy’s given me a baby"
"but hat’s that got to do with your tummy?"
"Because the baby’s in there dear" said mummy
So the little girl goes off to her daddy
"You know that baby you gave mummy?" she asked
"Yes dear?" asked her father
"Well" replied the little girl "SHE’S EATEN IT!"

EPIC HALL

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