Tag Archives: archive.org

Friday 8th May 2026 – BANE OF BRITAIN …

… strikes again!

Yours Truly spent a nice hour this morning completing his shopping list for LeClerc and then went to send it off for delivery later today.

At first, the delivery site wouldn’t load, and when it finally did, it was service indisponible – "service unavailable". So what’s going on here? I kept on trying for a good while, using all sorts of tricks and so on to navigate what I thought was a blockage in the service’s website.

And then, after a while, the lightbulb suddenly clicked on. It’s a bank holiday here today, isn’t it? D’ohhh.

What I put it down to is too much sleep. Last night, by the time that I’d finished my notes and done everything that needed doing, it was about 21:30, and wasn’t I glad to slide under the bedcovers at that time? It took a while … "as usual these days" – ed … to fall asleep, but that was into a nice deep sleep, which I enjoyed intensely.

During the night, I awoke a couple of times. At one moment, 04:10 to be precise, I was lying on my back and not coughing, which surprised me a considerable amount, but I didn’t spend too long thinking about it because I was soon asleep again. And there I lay until the alarm went off at 06:29.

As usual, it took a while to leave the bed, and then I went off to the bathroom to sort myself out. In the kitchen, I had my high-energy drink to wash down my medication and then came back in here to find out what had gone on during the night.

I was on a mission to the moon last night and we were all strapped into these various seats inside what I suppose was the space shuttle or something. A series of tapes was running all the time and the blast-off was extraordinary. I’d never felt anything like that in the past. We soared up into the sky and within four or five minutes, we made a perfect landing wherever it was that we were supposed to be. I managed to find some insects after I’d been chosen and I’d found a few more on the moon. We were all there, looking at different things and everything like that. No-one thought for a minute about how we were going to come back. We were just not interested in that but interested in finding out what there was to see. But there won’t ever be anything like that blast-off. It was absolutely out of this World.

To whatever this relates, I have no idea. But judging by the tone of my voice when I was dictating it, that blast-off must have been really impressive. And going somewhere and finding myself too busy to bother about coming back is par for the course for me.

However, four or five minutes to go from here to the moon is impressive in anyone’s language – however, it does have to be said that, believe it or not, it takes longer to go 30 or so miles from Bangor to Porthmadog by train on British Railways than it does to go to the moon.

I was with my former friend from Stoke on Trent doing something or other. Things didn’t seem to be working out very well there so I left. I found myself in London and wanted to go to the third floor of this building, but when we arrived there, the third floor was absolutely out of order with all of the lifts. We had to force the lift open. There were some people up there directing us and we managed to find our way onto the stairwell. I remember going down one flight of steps but I ended up in a subterranean car park. I went into the street and there was a Lloyd’s Bank there. It was heaving with people, there were people fighting to enter and others fighting to leave. The staff was having to push them out of the door. eventually, I managed to find my way in but it was so crowded that I couldn’t find a cash point anywhere. In the end, I ended up wedged against the counter so I asked the girl there if I could withdraw some cash. she asked if I had an account there, so I replied that I had a bank card and a cheque book, which seemed to satisfy her, so I had to search through my pockets for the bank card. I found all kinds of cards in there – old SIM cards, old memory cards, all kinds of things like that. In the end, I found my bank card and I handed it over to her, and she filled out a form and stamped it. Then she began to stamp all the other cards, and I couldn’t understand why. She asked me if the thing was always as slow as this, to which I replied that I had no idea. This carried on like this – she was busy stamping everything in my possession that she could possibly find.

It’s a shame about my former friend. He was one of the nicest people you could ever meet, until he had his accident and they gave him these pills …

The bit about London doesn’t fit in with any of our “London” dreams unfortunately, and neither does the bank, but the relentless stamping of everything in sight reminds me of the French obsession with documents, paperwork and rubber stamps on everything.

And we’ve been in this underground car park before, during one of our “Brussels” dreams ages ago.

Did I dictate the dream about being at my friend’s house where he and his wife were in bed or doing something in the bedroom? I had to go to the bathroom so I went in, and for five minutes I did some running on the spot to try to keep fit, but they became really annoyed about this. In the end, I decided to wait for a suitable moment and then pack up and leave.

… "No you didn’t, but this looks as if it might have been near the start of the previous dream." – ed …

The nurse turned up as usual this morning. We talked about the panic at the dialysis centre but he didn’t understand the point that I was trying to make. But not to worry, I’ll make my point on Monday at the dialysis centre, no problem.

The name Charles Roach Smith has appeared countless times during our reading of these historic books on the Romans in Britain. He was one of the foundres of modern archaeology in the UK in the mid-nineteenth century. Today, having finished THE ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY AT MONKTON, the next on the list turns out to be REPORT ON EXCAVATIONS MADE UPON THE SITE OF THE ROMAN CASTRUM AT PEVENSEY by Roach Smith so, after having made breakfast, I began.

It’s only a very short book so we’ll only be here a day or two. So far, he’s avoiding controversy by giving a description of the site.

Back in here afterwards, I had the LeClerc order to send off, as I mentioned, and then I had a printer to coax back into life so that I could print a return label to send a package back. That took longer than intended too. I don’t know what’s the matter with me today.

After that, we had two matches in the Scottish playoffs to watch from earlier in the week. Dunfermline v Arbroath and Alloa Athletic v Airdrie United. Regular readers of this rubbish in a previous version will recall that when I used to visit my friend Lorna up in Scotland, I stood on the terraces at Alloa a few times, so I have a soft spot for the Wasps.

Later on, I attacked the radio programme that I’d begun the other day, and now, all of the notes are written, ready for dictation. That’s quite a pile that is building up on the back burner waiting for this coughing to stop and I need to make a plan about them.

There were a couple of interruptions today during the radio notes. Firstly, my cleaner put in an appearance to do her stuff as usual, and I declined a shower again today. I’m not in the right kind of health at the moment for that.

Secondly, after she left, I made a taco roll with cheese and salad. It’s not much, but I’ll try to break myself slowly into eating again, if I can.

With the time that was left, I began to think about the radio programmes for next week. We’ll see where we go with those.

But one thing about seeing where we go is that I can see where I’ll be going very shortly. My bed is right behind me, even as I type, and I won’t have far to go for that.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about going to the moon … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the early summer of 1969 when a North Vietnamese peasant told his friend "The Americans have gone to the moon."
"What?" cried his friend, incredulously. "All of them?"

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Thursday 7th May 2026 – IT SEEMS TO ME …

… that no-one in the hierarchy at dialysis has the least idea of what is going on there. The nurses and assistants are all adorable and I’d bring them all home to my apartment afterwards if I could, but as for the rest …

On Monday I pointed out that, having gone in there with just a few hundred grammes to lose, they suddenly went into a huge panic, wound the machine up to three thousand five hundred, and the time to four hours.

Today, having carefully managed my intake, it was once more just a couple of hundred grammes. And then they came swarming into the room to wind it up to two thousand. An hour and a half later, they wound it back down to eighteen hundred. So what’s going on? And why all the panic?

Anyway, that was today.

Last night, I mentioned my rather strange night and the fact that I was in bed round about 20:00 or so. Out like a light straight away, there I lay until shortly after 03:00. And to my surprise, I was lying on my back and not coughing at all.
At some point, I must have gone back to sleep because I had another one of these dramatic upright awakenings that I sometimes have, and it was 05:11.

Now here’s something that will surprise you. I left the bed and went to stroll the parapet and then came back in here, sat down at the computer, and started work. I must have been feeling better.

The first thing that I did was to start to write the notes from yesterday, but I hadn’t quite finished when the alarm went off so I abandoned them for now while I went into the bathroom.

After my trip into the kitchen for my medication and mouthful of grapefruit juice, I came back in here to carry on with the notes.

When they were done and online, I turned my attention to the dictaphone notes to find out what had happened during the night.

There was a very long and complicated dream about Steve Tyler and his daughter Liv and I don’t know if I can remember all of it. He was taking part in some kind of event in the USA and there was a parallel event in the UK at the same time. While he was searching the web, he came across a blog written by a girl of about fourteen who was at the UK event, so he began to comment on her entries about the difference between what was happening there and what was happening in the UK. This correspondence went on for hours and days. And then there was something to do with his daughter Liv. She was only something like four or five. He had to go out but couldn’t find a babysitter but there was some kind of place where you could take children where they could sleep overnight. There would probably be twenty or thirty kids in this place with four or five monitors. The kids would be left there to sleep so he took her there. As Liv grew up, she was constantly being warned about her father’s bad habits, substance abuse, etc., and to be very careful about what she took that he offered her. At some point, she decided that she would leave home and go to New York, so she was on a train waiting to depart. She had some kind of irrational fear of losing her money so she was checking it every minute or two to make sure that she had it.

Steve Tyler’s problems are legendary, unfortunately, and the story of his relationship with his daughter got off to a very bad start and ended in a whole web of confusion. The story of a girl of fourteen plays some kind of role in this, but that’s another story for which the World is not yet ready to hear. Being a rock star in the late 1960s and 1970s was a minefield.

I was staying in someone’s house in a commune-type of place. It was early morning and I’d been up and about repairing the lawnmower and one or two other things, including some kind of gauge with a backlight. The woman in charge of this commune place came out and began to roar at me about not having begun to tidy up the garden and weed it. I said to her “you know, all you need to say is ‘Eric, could you weed the garden?'”. She stormed off in a foul mood saying “I shall expect a full apology”. I took the lawnmower back and found that I’d lost half of this gauge. One or two people searched and found one of the bits but not the other, so I thought “I’d look for that later”. Then I had to go to the bathroom but I didn’t feel like going into the house to the bathroom so I went out and walked down the main street. Eventually, I came to the covered market so I went in there. There was a guy sitting there behind a stall so I asked him if he knew if there was a public convenience in the building. He replied “yes”, but that wasn’t the answer that I wanted. Two young boys with him began to smile and joke so I glared at them and they cowered away. He still wouldn’t tell me so I walked away. Eventually, I found what I was looking for but they were so small and tight that it was a struggle to fit in. It had a strange kind of glass there that smoked on the outside when there was someone inside but the person inside could quite happily see what was happening outside. It was very, very strange and weird.

Back in the mid-seventies, I lived in a commune for a while. A very short while. I met some of the most selfish people I have ever met and in the end, I preferred the companionship of the spider in my van.

The nurse turned up as usual and didn’t seem to be all that interested in my day and night yesterday, so we didn’t say much.

After he left, I made breakfast and finished off THE ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY AT MONKTON by the Kent Archaeological Service. The remaining pages didn’t have much to say for themselves.

Back in here, I attacked the radio programme that I’d started yesterday. All of the music has now been traced, reformatted, remixed and re-edited and it has all been paired and segued. Tomorrow, I’ll write the notes for it.

My cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic and then I had to wait for the taxi. It was ten minutes early arriving but we had someone to drop off at Sartilly. Nevertheless, I was early arriving at dialysis, but even so, I had to wait for over an hour to be connected.

And just my luck – it was the nurse from the other day but when she saw that it was me, she made an excuse and left me to her colleague.

Then we had all of the shenanigans and I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I was trying to write out a shopping list but all of the traffic coming to my bed disrupted that. Everyone came to see me, even the dietician who now wants to put me on an intravenous drip. No chance of that.

By the end of the afternoon, I was half-expecting the trick cyclist to put in an appearance.

Late again as usual leaving, my driver was waiting so we were home quite quickly, but still horribly late.

My faithful cleaner helped me, and after she left, I came in here to write up my notes.

Now that they are done, there are just a few little things left to do and then I’ll be off to bed. I had a really good start to the day but it all seems to have gone downhill subsequently. So here’s hoping for further improvement tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Liv Tyler counting her money … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the film INSPECTOR HORNLEIGH ON HOLIDAY when Alastair Sim, hanging upside down over a roof edge, loses all of the money in his pocket.
"Oh no!" he replied. "I’ve lost two and sevenpence ha’penny!"

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Wednesday 6th May 2026 – OHHHHH! THAT WAS SOOOOOOO …

… comfortable. I’ve never felt anything like it. There I was, busy choosing the music for the next radio programme and I must have fallen asleep in mid-work. When I awoke, not far short of 20:00, I was so comfortable and relaxed in my chair that I didn’t know who I was, where I was or even when it was.

One thing that I knew though was that it was so pleasant, rather like a walk in a Japanese garden, that I was determined not to miss any of it so I wrote a terse note on my blog, rolled off my chair onto the bed, threw the covers over me and that was that.

It was something most unusual and most unexpected, particularly after last night. It wasn’t as early as I had hoped it would be when I finished everything, but I can’t complain about being in bed at about 21:45.

As usual, it took a while to go off to sleep. The constant coughing didn’t help, but once I’d gone to sleep, I was gone completely until about … ohh, I dunno. I didn’t look at the clock. I lay there for ages, so it seemed, but I must have dropped off again at some point because when the alarm sounded at 06:29 as usual, I was fast asleep.

When the alarm went off, there was a family living in a house that was very much like Vine Tree Avenue. They all seemed to be sleeping in the living room. It was time for them to get up so their father got out of bed and stood on one of these big round balls and rolled himself over to the far side of the room to switch off the alarm and then rolled back. And then as the kids were starting to leave their beds, the mother put her head into the door to ask if one of the boys could go to play with another child from his class after school. She joked and said that he could come round at 18:00 and he’d be fed, etc. The boy will be waiting for him after his favourite programme on the TV at 17:45, etc. She said “that’s just typical of their family. They are absolutely organised to the hilt”.

We lived in our council house in Vine Tree Avenue from 1957 to 1970. “All quite modern”, they said, with just the fire in the living room, a back boiler for the hot water and a kitchen stove heated by the fire in the living room. Dashing up to bed at night with our hot water bottles into ICE STATION ZEBRA upstairs, and scraping the ice from the insides of our bedroom windows in the morning.

Anyone who talks to me about “the good old days” will get a smack in the mouth.

Incidentally, throughout these pages, you’ll see links to Amazon products appearing every now and again. Being a Sales Associate of Amazon, I receive a small commission on goods sold via my links. It costs you nothing at all extra, but helps defray … "part of the" – ed … cost of my not-insubstantial web-hosting fees.

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

It took several minutes … "as usual" – ed … to summon up the strength to stand up and head for the bathroom, and then, in the kitchen, I tried this energy drink thing again with which to take my medicine. I’ve no ida if it’s working or not, but anything is worth a chance.

Back in here, there was plenty of time to check the dictaphone notes to find out what I’d been up to during the night.

There was something about a record producer in the 1970s whose sound was becoming way out of date and he needed to compete with a more modern group. So he financed his concerts by taking some of his groups on trips around old people’s homes, things like that … fell asleep here … He then had this idea that how would songs of the period of the 1950s and 1960s sound with all new modern equipment? Because he realised that his equipment was all out-of-date and he was going to have to upgrade everything to capture a more modern type of sound, he looked through his catalogue for back recordings and found one or two pop songs from that era and decided to rework them with this modern technique, music and equipment in the hope that they would come out as nº 1 hits across Europe.

There’s a story behind this too, and whilst the World is not yet ready to hear it at the moment, it’ll all become apparent in a few months.

But reworking hits from the 1950s and early 1960s with modern production techniques and sound would be quite an interesting project for someone.

The nurse turned up early again and we had quite a discussion about dialysis and my constant coughing fits that were driving him to distraction too. On leaving, he urged me to “rest and take it easy”. If only I could.

Once he’d gone, I made breakfast and started my next book, THE ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY AT MONKTON by the Kent Archaeological Service.

It’s not really a book – it’s more a forty-one-page brochure, I suppose, and it describes the examination of twenty-two Anglo-Saxon graves that were unearthed during the laying of a gas pipeline through Monkton on the Isle of Thanet in Kent.

However, I couldn’t resist a smile, or even a laugh, when the author tells us that several graves "had evidently been robbed in antiquity" and a couple of pages later, he tells us that the finds that they themselves made "are now in the museum at Maidstone."

A well-known phrase involving a pot and a kettle springs to my mind here.

Back in here, I followed the advice of my nurse and settled down in my chair. And that was that for about ninety minutes. For much of that time, I wasn’t really asleep but in one of those situations where I was drifting around somewhere in a different plane of existence.

Eventually, I managed to pull myself together and I began to write the notes for the radio programme that I’d begun yesterday. It wasn’t a particularly quick exercise and took me much longer than it should, but the constant coughing, which had caused me to vomit a few times, really was annoying me.

When I’d finally finished, I went for a disgusting drink break and my afternoon medication, and then back in here, Rosemary called me for a chat. It was another marathon where we talked about nothing much for ages, but we did chat about how her vegetable garden was going on. If there’s one thing that I really, really miss from my time in the Auvergne, it’s my vegetable patch and all the fresh vegetables that I used to grow.

After that, I began to research the next radio programme and to look for all the music that I needed. That was taking a positive age too, and it was during all of this that I slid into dreamland on my chair.

When I awoke, I did nothing of what I needed to do at the end of the day. I was determined to carry on with this wonderful feeling that I was experiencing, so I just went to bed and that was that. I can’t even remember my head hitting the pillow – that’s how far gone I was.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the ineffectiveness so far of my antibiotics … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of a doctor I know who bumped into one of his patients in the street.
"Did those suppositories that I gave you ease your piles any?" asked the doctor.
"No, doctor" replied the patient. "In fact, to tell the truth, for all the good that they did me, I may as well have shoved them up my a*@e"

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Tuesday 5th May 2026 – MARGARET THATCHER ONCE …

… said something along the lines of "anyone can do a good day’s work when they really want to, but a true professional is someone who can do a good day’s work when he doesn’t want to.". It’s not an exact quote, I know, but it was something like it, and after what I have managed to do today, I can call myself a “true professional”.

Not that you would have thought so after yesterday evening. I was definitely feeling at the end of my tether when I was writing up my notes and after having completed everything that needed doing, there was no-one happier than me to be in bed, even if it was approaching 22:00.

As usual, it took a while to drop off, but once I’d gone, I remember nothing whatever until I awoke. I’ve no idea what time it was, but it was still dark and the electric water heater was still on. Surprisingly, I was lying on my back which, although it’s my favourite position, it’s the one where I cough the most – and I wasn’t coughing. Consequently, I lay there like that for what remained of the night until the alarm went off. It wasn’t long.

Once I’d moved to sit on the edge of the bed, that’s when the coughing began in earnest, and it’s kept on going like that throughout the day, even to now.

It took an age for me to find the energy to rise up from the bed and to stagger into the bathroom. And even then, I couldn’t move from the bathroom chair for quite a while. Consequently, I was quite late arriving in the kitchen.

And then I had a bright idea. Back in the bad old days in Leuven when, at times, I could hardly move, I was living on these high energy caffeine drinks. There are still a few knocking around here so I took one of those with my medication in an effort to kickstart my day.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night, but to my dismay, the recorder was empty. Instead, I did a few other bits and pieces until the nurse arrived.

He was quite early today after his week off. He asked me how things went during the week, so I told him. And he was astonished about the dramatic steps that they took at dialysis yesterday. He was a former dialysis nurse himself in the past.

After he left, I made breakfast and read the last of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

His pages on the Celts and the Saxons were somewhat disappointing, and his Roman work, whilst very thorough and complete, relied too much on the forged “works of Richard of Cirencester”, and his own personal assumptions, being forcefully put, have quite often turned out after modern research and discovery, to be totally inaccurate.

Back in here, I had a few things to do and then I revised and prepared my Welsh for the lesson.

We’ve started the last chapter of the book, which is a taster for the final two years of the course, which is supposed to be the A-level part. And if those next two years are going to be anything like this chapter, then God help us all. It rolls along at a frantic pace.

Our teacher gave us some questions to do, and they had my brain breaking out into steam. Little did we all know that they were actually part of an ‘A’ level paper from 2024.

At the end of the lesson, I fell asleep. No surprise there. My cleaner awoke me when she came in to do her stuff, but I declined the offer of a shower. Instead, I went back to sleep.

Whilst I was having a little doze in the afternoon, there was something about someone sending morse code signals. But when I awoke, it was my cleaner cleaning something in the kitchen.

That could have been something exciting had the dream carried on, but instead, I went back to sleep and I missed her departure.

Some time later, after I’d awoken, I decided that I can’t let a day slip by like this, so I had a look at the next radio programme.

And by the time that I knocked off, I’d found all the music, reformatted, re-edited and remixed it, paired and segued it. I’d even written some of the notes for it too.

As I said earlier, I should be pleased with what I’ve done today.

So right now, I’m going to finish a few things off and then go to bed ready for a busy day tomorrow, if my coughing will let me. I now have the fierce antibiotics for the cough, so I’m going to take the first one just before I slide into bed. God knows what will happen during the night but if it sorts out this cough, then I’m prepared to give it a full go, whatever happens.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about falling asleep … "well, one of us has" – ed … I once fell asleep with a girlfriend at a friend’s house. All I could find were four coats so I gave her two and I had two.
Half an hour later, she awoke me. "Eric, I’m cold" so I gave her one of my coats.
Half an hour later, she awoke me again. "Eric, I’m still cold" so I gave her the other one.
Half an hour later, she awoke me yet again. "Eric, I’m still cold"
"Look," I said. "It’s only one night, and everyone else has gone to bed, so why don’t we pretend that we’re married"
"A good idea" she replied eagerly.
"Right" I said. "Go and find your own blasted coats."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Sunday 3rd May 2026 – WHAT A DAY …

… this has been today. But not for any positive reason – in fact, quite the reverse.

And yet last night, things were looking rather better. Although I seemed to have taken a positive age in finishing off everything, it couldn’t have been before 22:30 when I finally crawled into bed. Not to worry, though, because with it being a Sunday, if things go according to plan … "some hope" – ed … I don’t have to move until about 08:30 when Isabelle the Nurse arrives.

So once under the quilt, and when the wracking fits of coughing stopped, I tried to go to sleep, but as usual, it took longer, much longer, than it ought.

And that was all that I remember until I awoke, for the usual reason. At that point, I checked the clock and it was just after 06:00. I’d slept for about seven and a half hours.

Back in here, I climbed back into bed and I was dead to the World when Isabelle the Nurse arrived. She sorted out my legs and feet and then she cleared off, and I went back to sleep. Once more, it was a really, really deep sleep.

It was another one of those dramatic sitting-bolt-upright awakenings, something that I haven’t had for quite a while. It took me a while … "as usual" – ed … to summon up the energy to go into the bathroom to sort myself out, and then on arrival in the kitchen, it was 10:30. That’s a nice time to start the day.

But going back to the night, at some point, and I’ve no idea when, I had one of those coughing fits that was so intense that I ended up being violently sick again. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I can’t stand much more of this.

The first thing that I did was to switch on the oven to let it warm up. Next was to brush with milk the croissants that I’d made yesterday and, when the oven was hot enough, put them in for fifteen minutes.

While they were baking, I made my porridge and strong, black coffee.

Breakfast was really nice this morning, and the croissants were excellent. And while I was eating, I was reading some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we are discussing the Saxon system of civic organisation. He quite rightly says that very little is known of this, and so we have made a quantum leap into the ninth, tenth and eleventh centuries where there are plenty of charters and decrees extant that give us some idea of how things ended up before the arrival of the Normans.

However, this is probably a rather biased way to look at things because half of the country was held by the Norse and much of the rest was under Alfred the Great, so it’s hardly a fair and representative capture of the true situation.

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

I was responsible for the publication of two books written by famous people when they were children. There was an older lady of that age, the acrobatic age, and she was rather injured at that particular time, so they went through the muddle with her … fell asleep here … and the particular problem with this. Anyway, the first one there was rather disabled so there wasn’t much in there that needed to be edited or corrected. But the second girl was a much more lively person. There was a story that she’d been to a zoo in Chester and then gone on to meet Jimmy Saville … fell asleep here … so from there, she had received some very healthy advertising revenue and popularity, and then … fell asleep here …

Whatever time this was dictated, I must have been really tired. I do, however, admire how I kept on going after the first two fallings asleep and only threw the towel in at the third hurdle. That’s some perseverance. But it’s another dream that means nothing at all to me, although imagine meeting Jimmy Saville.

There were other things to do, and then I had a little footfest.

The first game was Morton v Airdrie United. Both clubs were fighting to escape the relegation playoffs, with Morton needing to avoid defeat – something that was not looking very likely after their dreadful performance last week.

And when Airdrie took the lead, we were all thinking “here we go again!”.But late in the game, Morton managed to equalise, and, even more surprisingly, managed to hang on until the final whistle. So Airdrie must face the winner of the promotion playoffs of the league below.

The next game was Elgin City v Stranraer. There was nothing really for which these two teams were playing so Stranraer’s manager gave an outing to a huge batch of fringe players.

On the bench was Robbie Foster, and how nice it was to see him back after over ten months out with a serious injury. And the script couldn’t have been written any better. He eventually made it onto the pitch and, believe it or not, scored the only goal of the game. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen a football player try so hard with such little reward as him in the past.

After that, fatigue caught up with me and I was unable to respond for a good couple of hours. Eventually, I staggered into the kitchen and made the next loaf of bread, but it really was a struggle. The loaf, however, is excellent.

No pizza for tea. Instead, I had a taco roll with salad. Much as I didn’t want to, it will help keep the lupus from the porte, as they would have said in Ancient Rome.

So now, after finishing my notes, there are one or two things to do and then I’m off to bed, ready for dialysis tomorrow … "I don’t think" – ed … What a waste of a day this was.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about being sick … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the sign in the parish church at Neston on the Wirral when we all went there for Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve fifty-odd years ago.
"Will patrons please note that the box marked ‘for the sick’ is restricted to monetary contributions only."

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Saturday 2nd May 2026 – SO HERE I AM …

… again, late as usual after another evening of football, and surprisingly, I’m not all that tired. Hardly surprising seeing that I seem to have spent most of the morning asleep.

Last night was a better night too. Although I started rather late in writing my notes, by the time that I’d finished and done whatever else I needed to do before going to bed, it was about 21:30 when I finally crawled into bed.

As usual, it took longer than it used to for me to fall asleep, and that’s all that I remember until I awoke some time later. The reason for that was that I had to go to walk the parapet yet again, so I checked the time for once as it looked as if day was dawning.

Sure enough, it was 05:46, which meant that for the first time since I don’t know when, I’d managed eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Back in here, I suppose that I could have dictated a few radio notes, but as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … how is it possible to dictate anything when I’m coughing like I am? One of these days, I’ll post the *.mp3 of some dictaphone notes so that you can hear for yourself just what’s happening.

Instead, I went back to bed and waited for the alarm to go off. And when it did, it took me a good while to leave the bed yet again.

In the bathroom, I sorted myself out and had a good scrub-up, and I also changed some clothes and had a handwashing session. Consequently, I was late in the kitchen but, nevertheless, I made my hot drink with which to take my medication.

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

For some reason, I’d moved apartment and was busy sorting out all of my things as to what goes where. The apartment that I’d bought was nothing like as nice as mine, but never mind. There was a kind of built-in chest in the living room, so I’d laughed and joked about it being a good place to hide the bodies and that had led to a local policewoman coming around. She wanted to inspect the box so I had to open it for her. It was rather a complicated affair with a long bar and two padlocks on it, but I opened it, and there was nothing in it, so she was satisfied and eventually left. Then I began to go to look at the bathroom because I hadn’t actually seen the bathroom beforehand. I turned on the light, and I was rather disappointed because it was one of these 1960s or early 1970s bathrooms with light blue tiles, very cheap fittings, etc. There was a shower there that was rather small. One thing about the shower was that there was a heavy padlock on it and I hadn’t been left the keys for this so I thought that I’d either have to contact the previous owner or else remove the whole bar and staple. I couldn’t understand why there was a padlock on the shower, particularly on the outside, because that was where it was pretty much useless from anyone who was taking a shower at that time.

What a strange dream this was. The bathroom reminds me of the one in Reyers, although there was a bath there rather than a shower. There is also no reason for me to want to move apartment, although when I was looking for a place to live in Brussels in 1999/2000, I saw more than enough. However, I wasn’t usually quick enough, and that’s how I ended up with Expo.

The padlock on the shower is interesting, though. What would a padlock on the outside of a shower be doing there?

Isabelle the Nurse turned up rather later than usual, having started her round at 06:00 with a series of blood samples to take. I’ve seen her working at 19:00 in the evening too so no wonder she only works one week on and one week off.

We had a little chat about nothing much and then she left. I could crack on with making breakfast and reading some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we’re discussing Anglo-Saxon interments and the grave goods that were found in their graves. And like most historians and archaeologists of his generation, he’s mistaking British pre-Roman burial barrows as being Anglo-Saxon, and consequently confusing the origins of the artefacts found therein.

After breakfast, I fell asleep at the table for fifteen minutes and then, back in here, I fell asleep on my chair for almost the rest of Saturday morning.

Once I awoke and came back round into the Land of the Living, I began to work on the radio programme. I managed to pair and segue the tracks, and then I began to write the notes.

There was an interruption in the middle where I went to make my taco roll with this pepper pâté and salad, with some of Liz’s salad dressing, and it was completely delicious. Then I had some croissants to make ready for the next few Sundays, seeing as I ran out last Sunday. They are now all prepared, ready for baking tomorrow morning.

Back in here, I plodded on with the radio notes wearily and bravely, with no ambition at all, but nevertheless, they were finished by the time the football began. That was a triumph of mind over matter to complete that, but at least it means that I can have a day off tomorrow, apart from Welsh homework and bread-baking.

The football was the deciding match to see who would earn the fourth European place for this summer. Penybont, who have slipped down the table since the last time they played as if they were enjoying it, beating Caernarfon in the autumn in a monsoon, and Hwlffordd, who, after a dismal start to the season, have played so much better ever since.

But Hwlffordd couldn’t seem to string two passes together today, and their wafer-thin squad meant that they had to play with a back three of two midgets and an attacking midfielder, and they paid the penalty. Penybont had seemed to find all of their old enthusiasm and were much better with their use of the ball. In the end, they ran out as deserved 2-0 winners.

So now, I’m off to bed, looking forward to a long sleep and a nice lie-in, if I have the chance.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about coughing … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone once went to the doctor’s with a cough like mine.
The doctor examined him and said "I’m sorry, but you don’t have very long to live"
"How long, doctor?" he asked.
"Ten" replied the doctor.
"Ten what?"
"Nine."

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Friday 1st May 2026 – HAPPY LABOUR DAY …

… everyone, to those who celebrate it and also to those who don’t, because today, AS THE BEE-GEES WILL REMIND US, is the First of May.

And today has also been a somewhat better day for me too, which is also good news, although it does have to be said that days couldn’t have been much worse just recently.

Last night, after sorting myself out after dialysis, I came in here and attacked the notes. And, would you believe, it wasn’t long after 20:00 that I’d actually finished. I must have been in bed by 20:45 – it was still light outside anyway.

As usual, it took longer than it used to for me to go off to sleep, but once I’d gone, I’d gone completely. I awoke once during the night due to another bad coughing fit, but I must have gone back to sleep at some point because when the alarm went off, it awoke me.

And also as usual, it took me quite a while to summon up the courage and energy to leave the bed, and then I went into the bathroom to sort myself out. Once I’d finished in there, I went into the kitchen to make my hot drink with which to take my medicine.

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

We were three British prisoners of war who had been on a transfer from one prison to another but had managed to escape. We ended up in some big town in Germany so we wandered around for quite a while while we tried to make up our minds. There was one person who tried to talk about beaches to someone. We were having to make plans, but we weren’t sure what plans, because we had absolutely nothing on us. We were wandering around this market and trying to keep people away from us. One of us managed to steal a packet of money that was lying around in an empty room. We carried on walking, but then another one of us managed to acquire a baguette. We then came in to where the fair proper was. Someone asked us if we’d light his lantern or whatever so we did that. Then we began to make plans about what we were going to do and how we need to do it.

This is another dream that doesn’t seem to relate to anything in particular, although the park with its forested bit and the town centre with its fair are places that we have visited before on our nocturnal rambles, albeit a good while ago.

Isabelle the Nurse came in as usual, and we had a good chat about this and that as she sorted out my legs and feet. Once she’s gone, I could make breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we are discussing the arrival of the Saxons, but that’s not something about which I know very much. And neither does anyone else because there are no contemporary written documents for this period. People like Gildas and Bede, from whom most of our current knowledge is taken, were writing one or two centuries after the events and from a very jaundiced point of view.

However, our author seems to think, as is the current way of thinking, that the Angles, Saxons and Jutes merged in with the native British people, but as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I remain totally unconvinced. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle is full of battle after battle, massacre after massacre and slaughter after slaughter, and as we have seen during our travels through the late Roman-early Mediaeval period, the number of trades and skills that disappeared completely at this time points to some kind of ethnic cleansing of the native population. As I said just now – “no contemporary written documents for this period”.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, and then I finished off the radio notes for the programme on which I’d been working.

After a little rest, I eventually began to research the next radio programme. That also involved some considerable searching for some music that I wanted and took an age. I wasn’t very motivated about it and by the time that I knocked off, I’d chosen all of the music, reformatted, re-edited and remixed it. Tomorrow, I’ll push on and see how far I can get.

There was an interesting break in mid-afternoon, though. I found a recipe for a salad dressing that Liz had sent me years ago. Today, I decided to make it, and it really is delicious. I actually had all of the ingredients on hand, which makes a change. When it was ready, I made myself another taco roll of salad with a red and green pepper pâté as a base and then put some of the dressing on it. That was really delicious too.

But I was also looking at my shopping list today, which indicates that there’s some kind of rekindling of my appetite somewhere, and that’s good news.

But right now, though, I’m off to bed hoping for another good night like last night and also hoping that this slow improvement will continue.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about prisoners … "well, one of us has" – ed … I once met a man who had been in prison. He told me that he had been imprisoned for something that he hadn’t done.
"What was that?" I asked him
"I hadn’t wiped my fingerprints off the knife."

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Thursday 30th April 2026 – TODAY HAS BEEN …

… a somewhat better day, at least, for the most part. I’ve also accomplished more than I accomplished yesterday too, even though there were only two hours in which to do any work.

Last night, I began to write out my notes at about 19:30, but even so, it took quite a while to complete them and then do everything else that needed doing. I don’t suppose that I was in bed much before 21:30.

It took another few minutes to drop off to sleep, but I awoke, following another coughing fit, at some unearthly time of the morning. I didn’t check the time but I do remember debating with myself whether to leave the bed in order to go to walk the parapet. However, the decision was taken out of my hands, as I must have fallen asleep at that point.

Somewhat later, I awoke again, with no need to debate the situation. I did check the time this time, and it was 04:43. THis made me think about staying up and dictating some radio notes, but how can you debate when you are being wracked by fits of coughing? Instead, I climbed back under the quilt where I fell asleep again.

When the alarm went off, I was with my former friend from Stoke on Trent. We had my LDV on a trailer that was being pulled by something. We were round at his house, although it was nothing like his house. It was a terraced house in one of the better classes of terraces with a front garden, something like in Alton Street near the old petrol station. Anyway, this guy and someone else had to go to a meeting, which was in one of the houses a little way down the street. When they went to this meeting, someone opened the door, and I could see the wall decoration, which was blue, black and white, and it looked terrible but they went in. I went back to the LDV and I had to walk around the vehicle on the trailer. Someone shouted from a distance “are you fat?” so I just ignored them. By this time, I had over my shoulder my travelling bag with my clothes, etc. in it. When I came round to the back of the vehicle, it was no longer the LDV but a Land Rover. There was some kind of big machine sitting on the tailgate so I picked up the machine, which was fairly heavy, and went up into the guy’s house. Once inside, I wiped my feet on the doormat and went to install myself on a chair in the kitchen with this machine and my clothes bag. But when the alarm went off, I was somewhere on foot down some kind of motorway somewhere but I don’t know where and I don’t know why.

My LDV was a strange van. It was good when I bought it, but I couldn’t find any spare parts at all for it over here. In the end, the join between the roof and one of the sides rusted through, which might not have been so bad had I not had a big roof rack on it, on which I carried huge loads of wood.

And I reckon that I’ve told the story of my former friend often enough that it doesn’t bear repeating.

As usual, it took me a while to summon up the courage and the energy to leave the bedroom, and after a stagger into the bathroom to have a wash and a shave, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon, I went into the kitchen for my medication. Today, as it’s dialysis, I washed it down with just a mouthful of grapefruit juice.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what else went on during the night.

I had to go somewhere in my van and meet a few of my friends in a nearby town. I had a huge load of computers with me, eight notebooks and three ordinary laptops. I arrived at the place where we were meeting, which was next door to a bar. We had a chat about a few things, which included registering for health insurance so we ordered that. I was astonished to notice that I was registered n°1. There was some work to do on the van and then we walked down to the place where we were meeting our friends. He mentioned something about a load of grain to pick up from the side of the road somewhere up in the mountains. I almost set out but realised that I’d left the computers on the edge of the road so I had to go back for them. Then, I drove off into the hills, but I couldn’t see this pile of grain anywhere. In the end, I came back and told them about the pile of grain that I couldn’t find. The conversation carried on, and we saw a few people go into the bar next door, including two old women carrying guitars. Our host brought out three cans of beer and told us to choose one, two of one make and one of another. I chose the one on its own, but I couldn’t take the label off the backing plastic, no matter how I tried. It wouldn’t come off. And then we carried on talking about the grain. I realised that I would have to go back for it, but even if I found it, I wouldn’t be able to load it in because there was nothing in the van to help me do that. But first, I had to go to find it, so I set out, drove a hundred yards, suddenly realised that the computers were on the edge of the street again so I went back for them and put them in the van.

This is another one of those dreams that means nothing to me. There are in fact three notebooks and probably half a dozen laptops hanging around here, of which three or four laptops are probably working. And I haven’t drunk any beer for probably about thirty-five years.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual. She gave me a little weather forecast, sorted out my legs and feet, and then left as rapidly as she had arrived. I made my breakfast and then read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we’re discussing the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, at least in Britain. And while he has his dates slightly mixed up, he’s steering clear so far of any controversial discussion.

Back in here, I had a few things to finish off and then I attacked the radio programme. By the time I was ready to knock off, all of the music had been segued and I’d written over three quarters of the notes. That’s some good going.

My cleaner came in to help me with the anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the ambulance. It was a minute or two early, but there was someone else to pick up en route.

Even so, I was early arriving. And for a change, they seem to be a little more clued-up in there, as they have now put me in the bed nearest the door rather than the one farthest away. There are still beds nearer than where I was put, but “baby steps”.

Once again, I was down at my dry weight as I entered, and, in a big surprise, I was one of the first seen to, too. As there was nothing to extract, they had a series of discussions amongst themselves which resulted in the extraction amount being changed three times.

They left me alone for most of the session, which was good news, and I was also one of the first to be unplugged. The nurse who attended to me told me that the results from Friday had not yet arrived, hence the delay in telling me. And weighing myself on leaving, there’s just one kilo to go before I reach my sporty weight, although I don’t feel very sporty right now.

The taxi wasn’t there, so I had to wait ten minutes, which meant that I wasn’t at home as early as I would have liked. But after my cleaner had helped me in and left, I came back in here to write up my notes.

Now, I’ll be off to bed in a few moments, with a day of comparative rest before me, as my cleaner has decided to have a day off tomorrow, with it being a Bank Holiday over here.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about losing weight … "well, one of us has" – ed … I remember when Nerina went on one of these weight-loss diets.
"How’s it going, dear?" I asked her
"Great" she replied. "In three weeks, I’ve lost 6 kilos."
"You keep it up, dear" I told her. "In another thirty weeks, you’ll be gone completely."

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Wednesday 29th April 2026 – SO RIGHT NOW …

… even though it’s not quite 19:30, I’m starting to write my notes ready … "he hopes" – ed … for an early night.

After last night’s slightly better … "and only slightly, too" – ed … night, I’m determined to try to push on and try to capitalise on any sign of slight improvement.

Last night, there didn’t seem to be much sign of improvement. It ended up being later than I imagined and had in fact gone past 21:30 when I finally snuggled down into my nice, clean bed and although it took, once more, longer than usual to drop off, I was well out of it.

At one point I did actually wake up, thanks to another coughing fit. Whatever time it was, I have no idea because I didn’t bother to look. I went to walk the parapet, coughing continually as I went, and back in bed afterwards, the coughing fit continued and increased in intensity so that, once more, I was violently sick.

Eventually, though, I fell into that one position where I don’t seem to cough and went off quite quickly to sleep. And I remember nothing more until the alarm went off at 06:29. That was what I meant about the “improvement”.

In the bedroom, I sorted myself out and then went into the kitchen, where I made my hot drink to wash down the medication. Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

I was at a party somewhere. It was one of these things where there had been a festival and campsite, and everyone was in a barn having something of a good time. However, I decided to go for a walk and found myself in the nearest town. I went into the bar there to have a coffee but although the bar was busy, it seemed that the guy who was behind the bar was just sitting there doing nothing. I had to shout at him three times, but he still didn’t give me a coffee. In the end, one of the waiters who had been serving in the room came behind the bar and he served me with a coffee. He told me the price, but I only had a €50:00 note so that became rather complicated. But I was chatting to someone at the bar there, and rather later, we went for another walk around the town. By now, it was somewhere in Russia, I reckoned. As we walked, looking through everywhere, we came across a garage. The garage had several cars in there, including a green MkIII Cortina, P-registered, and they were all right-hand drive. I asked the guy with me why the garage had all of these British cars and not any European ones, say, from Germany that were left-hand drive but he didn’t really know the answer. In the end, I walked back to the barn. It was not far short of midnight. Everyone was still having a good time so I just walked in, chatted to a few people and just reintegrated myself back into the party.

This was an enormous barn, with loads of people in it, but it would be just like me to opt out of a party and go for a walk around the nearby town. Meeting strangers in bars is, however, most unlike me. As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, it’s not like me to be sociable.

Finding Ford Cortinas in Moscow would be unlikely, although Nerina and I almost managed to take a Mk IV Cortina estate into the USSR, but that’s yet another story that the World is not yet ready to hear.

However, there is an actual story about something like that. Did you ever wonder why you never saw many second-hand Ladas on sale at the Lada garages in the UK back in the early nineties? When Percy Penguin and I were skiing in Bulgaria in the early nineties, we saw several right-hand drive Ladas with Bulgarian plates. It turned out that Lada could obtain a better price for a second-hand Lada back in Eastern Europe so those that their garages were buying back were simply shipped out there.

Later on, I was moving a load of things down to Virlet and began to stack them in the barn. There weren’t all that many things, mostly large objects, so I just packed them in any old how and just left them there. Later, I had to take some more things down, and when I arrived in Virlet, I remembered how I had stacked it the last time and there was no real room for these things now so I had to think about totally rearranging everything that was in the barn so that I could find room to fit these in. However, I thought that this was going to take me a very, very long time, particularly with the things that I had thrown in and were blocking the steps up and over, this kind of thing.

We seem to be spending a lot of time in Virlet just recently. And describing the state of the barn as “utter chaos” is not too far wide of the mark. Not that the house is much better.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual this morning and although she chatted a lot, she didn’t really say anything. After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today, we’re discussing the Roman system of governance, and it seems that reality might be beginning to hit home with our author.

We mentioned a few days ago about his putting all his trust in the “works of Richard of Cirencester”, unmasked as a fake at least one hundred and sixty years ago. Today, in this chapter, we are starting to see hiù quoting more and more from the “Notitia Imperii” of the late fifth century instead of the aforementioned.

And tucked away in a little paragraph a few pages in, we find him making a mention of the “single and dubious authority of Richard of Cirencester”. So, after all of the research that he’s carried on to arrive so far into the book, he’s now becoming less and less convinced of the authority of Richard’s book.

Something else that is quite interesting too is that he’s uncovered a few memorial tables where some of the names, usually of disgraced Roman emperors, have been chiselled away. He asks "How often have we, in modern times, seen a name cast out with loathing, which yesterday received the incense of a world’s flattery?". So nothing seems to have changed, even in our modern World where statues are being continually toppled.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, and then I had a little “relax” before starting work, but I didn’t start for long as Liz messaged me for a chat. We ended up having a Rosemaryesque chat that went on for ever. Not, of course, that I’m complaining because it’s really nice to talk to friends.

After that, my Welsh group and I had a delightful chat for half an hour as one of our members produced the photos of her new baby, born a few days ago. We all gushed and cooed as you might expect, but we have to show our respects to the new arrival.

Not to be outdone, Rosemary called me too, and we just had a very brief chat today, only one hour and forty-eight minutes. There are a lot of issues going on right now round by where she lives.

At some point during the afternoon, I tried a new departure. When I went for my disgusting drink break and early afternoon break, I made myself a taco roll with cheese and salad. I hadn’t forgotten about the cheese sandwich issue from yesterday evening, so I thought that I’d give things a little try, to see if I could keep at least some food down. We’ll see how it goes.

After all of that, I finally managed to start the radio programme, and I’ve chosen all of the music, tracked down what I needed … "and that wasn’t as easy as it might have been, either" – ed … reformatted, re-edited and remixed it. I’ll have to see how far I can go with everything else tomorrow morning before dialysis.

But right now, I’m off to bed in the hope of having another improved sleep tonight.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the USSR … "well, one of us has" – ed … while I was walking around Moscow with this guy from the bar, I asked him "why is it that Soviet policemen always go round in threes?"
"That’s easy" he replied. "The first one can read, the second one can write, and the third one is there to keep an eye on the bourgeois intellectuals."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Monday 27th April 2026 – TODAY HAS NOT …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Thursday 23rd April 2026 – HERE I AM …

… running hours late yet again, but tell me – if you had the choice between coming inside to your miserable, depressing life in here or standing outside in the absolutely glorious evening sun, chatting to friends and neighbours, what would you do?

That’s right, it’s been the most beautiful day of the year today, with not even a single cloud in the sky to put a damper on the proceedings, so naturally, I had to spend the afternoon in dialysis, didn’t I?

Still, at least last night wasn’t as bad as some have been.

By the time that I’d finished my notes etc. and was ready for bed, it was just about 22:00, later than I would like but never mind. I was soon under the covers, all nice and comfortable, and although it took, as usual, quite a while to go off to sleep, I was so comfortable that it didn’t really matter.

However, a few hours later, also as usual, I was awake again. No sign of going off to sleep so I ended up counting sheep. I had quite a flock but eventually I must have fallen asleep because when the alarm went off at 06:29 as usual, it awoke me.

And, also as usual, it took an age for me to struggle to my feet and go into the bathroom, where I had a good scrub-up and even a shave, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Not hot drink this morning – just a small mouthful of orange juice to wash down my medication – and then back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during what little night I’d had.

At some point, I dreamed that I was helping a girl who used to live in the Auvergne move her crockery and things like that. We had to be very careful with some of it because the handles could easily break. She sent a mail to me to tell me that someone else was coming along to help, and I should give him the same warning too. Then, in the dream, my alarm went off and I leapt out of bed and put on some football gear that was lying around in my room, as if I were going to be playing in a football match. Then, I found myself back in the bed and I wondered what happened to the alarm and me dressed in – that I was still in bed in my night clothes.

That’s something that I’ve done a few times, helping people move house, and I’ve done more than just a few of those in the Auvergne. But I’m sure that some people will recall who this girl might be if I were to mention that it’s par for the course for her to disappear as soon as the work starts.

The nurse turned up as usual, and I mentioned that I had a taxi coming for me at 08:00 so he’ll need to be here beforehand to sort out my legs and feet. His response, quite typically, was “go to bed tonight in your socks. I won’t be able to make it”. No surprise there.

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

Today, we’re talking about religion, and here’s a surprising thing. Our author tells us "Over the left shoulder of Saturn is a sickle in form of our modern bill-hook, Sol wears a radiated crown, Luna, a crescent, Mars is helmeted and carries a shield, the head of Mercury is winged, the bust of Jupiter has been injured, and his emblems are not clearly to be recognised, Venus carries a mirror. Other museums in Germany, I am informed, contain sculptures of the planets similarly arranged."

In France, and in many other places too, I would imagine, it’s the custom, and has been for hundreds of years at least, to draw and sculpt images of the saints, each with his or her own particular emblem. One saint is always seen with a child, another with a loaf of bread, another with a dog and so on. I wonder if this dates back to the very early years of Christianity and is a reflection of adopting the practice from the Roman gods.

While I was sitting at the table, I crashed out yet again, and while I was away, I was off on my travels.

While I was having another little doze at the breakfast table, I dreamed that I was playing with the Spencer Davis Group at a festival in Greece. After we’d played, we took a boat and went across the strait to an island to look at the lighthouse there. However, we weren’t impressed so we came back. However, we didn’t land near our hotel but at a secluded beach about a mile down the coast. We came ashore on some kind of jetty and one of our party threw a plastic bottle into the sea. We found a place to spread out and lie down, but I went for an explore. I came across another hotel that was being used for concert performers and crew, so I went in. For some reason, I came out of the lift at the second floor and walked along the corridor, looking at the names of the occupants, and down at the far end, I saw the name of a former girlfriend from school. I knocked and went in to say hello, and she was delighted to see me. Her room had a window that tilted horizontally in the middle, so I tilted it wide open and flew outside for a good look. Back in the room, we were discussing her career. I told her that honestly, only one person in a thousand at this level makes it to the top. She replied that she was determined to work as hard as it takes so that the one person in a thousand would be her.

Dreams about me flying are very rare indeed. I’ll have to go back probably twenty years for the last one.

But as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, we went to GREECE in 2013 and spent a happy week on Anxios, one of the Sporadic Islands, but not with the Spencer Davis Group. And I didn’t meet a girlfriend from school there either.

Back in here, I spent a little while sorting out a few things and then attacking the radio programme. It’s still been a struggle tracking down the music that I want, and one day, I hope that I will have what I need.

My cleaner turned up as usual to help me with the anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the taxi to arrive. Bang on time he turned up, but with all of the roadworks and having to go to pick up someone else, we were late arriving at Avranches.

Late arriving means late being plugged in and with the machine playing up, I was resigned to it being a long session. One of the doctors (not Emilie the Cute Consultant, unfortunately) came to see me, and she told me that they were going to reduce my dry weight. “At long, long last!” I said to myself. “Now we can go about doing this properly”.

When I’d finished everything, I was next-to-last leaving but my taxi driver, one of my favourites, was waiting for me and we had a good chat as she drove me home. But once again, we were caught up in the roadworks so we ended up being late back. And after my neighbourhood chat, it was even much later when I came back in here. But it was worth it, being out in the sun.

After my cleaner left, I had half a piece of chocolate cake and home-made ice cream and then came back in here to finish off everything. And in a short while, I’ll be off to bed. I’m not looking forward to tomorrow, as you can imagine.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about counting sheep … "well, one of us has" – ed … out on a ranch in the Australian outback, the ranch owner asked a farmhand "how many sheep do we have?".
"No idea" said the farmhand.
"But I’ve sent you out three times now to count them."
"I know, but every time I reach ‘six’, I fall asleep!"

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Wednesday 22nd April 2026 – NOT YET ANOTHER …

… night like last night! I can’t stand many more of these. Especially as I made a point of finishing everything early last night.

After knocking off work at about 19:30, I began to write up my notes, and after one of the shortest blog entries in modern times, finishing off everything that needed finishing and sorting myself out in the bathroom, it wasn’t even 21:00, and it was still daylight when I crawled in under the covers.

As seems to be the case these days, it took a while to go to sleep, but once I’d gone, I was asleep for – ohhh, I dunno – three hours, maybe. I’ve no real idea because I didn’t look at the time.

After that, I lay awake, coughing myself to death and ruminating over my guilty conscience yet again, but just as I began to feel the need to leave the bed, for the usual reasons, the alarm went off at its usual time of 06:29.

As usual, it took an absolute age for me to summon up the energy and the morale to leave the bed, but after I’d sorted myself out in the bathroom, I was sat on the chair in there for quite a while, unable to move.

My arrival in the kitchen was considerably later than usual, but I made my hot drink and took my medication and then came back in here to check the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

Mind you, I needn’t have bothered, because there was nothing on it again today. But then again, if you don’t go to sleep for very long, it doesn’t leave much time for travelling.

There were a few other things that needed my attention, but I was interrupted by the arrival of the nurse who came to sort out my legs and feet. We also had a little chat about my sleep issues, although they didn’t help much. He was pleased that I don’t take a medication to help me sleep, although he didn’t say why.

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

We’re now discussing industry and, at the moment, pottery. Apart from being confused by his adherence to “Richard of Cirencester”, he’s not come up with anything particularly controversial so far.

However, he made a reference to the Roman fort at Ambleside, which I followed up, and while I was reading about the site, I came across something interesting.

The excavations at the fort had shown that it had been destroyed on two occasions, and outside the east gate, there was an enormous collection of leaden slingshot pellets. The indications are that they had been fired from the walls of the fort, presumably aimed at attackers. There were two distinct kinds of slingshot, made of lead from different sources, suggesting that there had been two attacks at the fort, separated by a lengthy period.

The most surprising find, however, was that of a tablet that may well have been part of a tombstone, and the inscription on that part reads “killed within the fort by the enemy” – indicating that the fort had been invaded but the Romans had managed to regain control within a short space of time.

While I was eating, would you believe that I fell asleep on the chair? And while I was asleep, I was off on my travels.

While I was asleep, I was driving a narrow-gauge steam locomotive up an incline but was running out of steam. I left the controls and helped the fireman shovel more coal into the boiler but even so, we were slowly grinding to a halt. I arranged to stop at a distant signal where there was a telephone so I could telephone Control to tell them, because it was a single line and I would be blocking it. Control told me to roll back a quarter of a mile where there was a siding and I could put the train in there while I built up steam. I thought to myself that a three-and-a-half-hour sleep would do me a world of good, but then I realised that to build up steam probably wouldn’t even take ten minutes.

Much as I have an interest in railways, especially closed ones, unlike most small boys, I never had any ambition to be a steam locomotive driver. I do, however, have a friend who is a part-time guard with one of the “great little trains of Wales”. Consequently, I have no idea to what this dream relates.

As for a good, long sleep, I’m open to one of those at any time

Back in here, I finished off what I’d been doing and then began work on the radio programme that I’d started yesterday. And by 17:00, I’d finished selecting all of the music, reformatted, remixed, re-edited, paired and segued it, and written all of the notes. That was despite an interruption from my cleaner who brought the medicine that was outstanding from yesterday.

There was another interruption too, from the hospital. They ‘phoned me to say that I need to be at the hospital at 09:00 on Friday for this fibreoscopy. Still, I suppose that the sooner we start, the sooner we’re finished.

After a pause of about an hour, I started on the next radio programme and by the time I’d knocked off at 19:15, I’d identified all of the artists whom I wanted to appear in it and had even begun to select the music. Considering that I thought that I’d be lucky to prepare one programme this week, that was good going.

When I finished, I went into the kitchen, where I had a piece of my chocolate cake with my home-made ice cream, and then came back in here to write my notes.

Now that they are finished, there are a few other things to do, and then I’m off to bed, hoping for a much better night than those just recently … "he’ll be lucky" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about railway guards … "well, one of us has" – ed … my friend, before he retired, was a schoolmaster, teaching geography.
He once asked me "what’s the difference between a schoolmaster and a railway guard?"
"I’ve no idea" I replied
"Well, the one trains the mind – the other minds the train."

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Sunday 19th April 2026 – WHAT A NICE …

… way to start the day. When I opened the shutters in here and sat down at my desk to start work, it was already … errr … 12:20. Who could ask for a Sunday morning any better than that? As was said once a long time ago in a “Gunsmoke” episode, "Sunday is the one day of the week a man can get up at noon and sit around with his boots off without anybody hollering at him about it."

Mind you, for reasons that I still don’t understand, Saturday was a rather late night and I didn’t finish everything and slide under the bedclothes until 22:30. The football can’t have taken all that long, surely?

But Sunday is a lie-in so I was planning to sleep until Isabelle the Nurse came to sort out my legs at about 08:30 as usual.

At least, that was the plan, and, as we all know, "The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men gang aft agley an’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain for promis’d joy." At some point during the night, I awoke for what seemed to be the usual reason and went off to stroll the parapet. I’ve no idea what time it was, and neither did I care.

Back in bed, I went to sleep again fairly quickly and although I awoke at some point when it was light outside, I shoved my head back down under the quilt and went back to bed.

Isabelle the Nurse awoke me, ringing the doorbell to announce her presence. She sorted out my legs and feet, chatting away about the brocante in the town while I was cowering under the quilt. After she left, I went back to sleep almost straight away.

When I checked the time, sitting on the edge of the bed ready to stand up, it was 10:33, so all in all, it was a very good sleep and a very relaxing morning.

In the kitchen, I just had some of my medication and then made breakfast – porridge, coffee and two of my home-made croissants – and the croissants were, as usual, delicious after ninety seconds at 180°C in the microwave.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

We’re discussing agriculture today, and he tells us that "Mr. Bruce observed … traces of cultivation on the waste lands in Northumberland, and he is probably right in attributing them to the Romans. ‘A little to the south of Borcovicus,’ he says, ‘and stretching westward, the ground has been thrown up in long terraced lines, a mode of cultivation much practised in Italy and the East. Similar terraces, more feebly developed, appear at Bradley. I have seen them very distinctly marked on the banks of the Rede-water, at old Carlisle, and in other places."

These terraces are called “lynchets” and date all the way from the Iron Age and maybe before, to the early medieval period

By now, it was 12:15 after my lazy start to the day, so I headed back in here and switched on the computer after first, of course, opening the shutters.

The first thing that I did was to transcribe the dictaphone notes to find out where I’d been during the night.

I’d come across a brochure about coach tours so I was looking through it. There were lots of coach tours going all around the UK, but it was a shame that every one just picked up in London rather than anywhere else. There were adverts in there for British Rail which said “we aren’t only this and we aren’t only this and we aren’t only this” and someone suggested that they aren’t only anything, in fact. There was someone who had to return to the USA and someone was giving her some kind of instructions about where to go to catch the bus to take her back to her home town. There was a guy there with an elderly woman who was probably his mother, and they were in the queue for having a burger so he asked his mother if she wanted rye. The mother didn’t understand at all what he was walking about and tried to have him explain, but he wasn’t being very patient with her. Then it was my turn to order so I asked for a veggie burger. They asked me what else I wanted on it but the dream faded out there.

As if I’m ever likely to go on a coach trip anywhere as a passenger – except those few times to football matches. Mind you, I did go on a few with Nerina in the past.

The rye bread relates to some bread that Jackie left with me when she left. It’s been ages since I’ve had some good German bread, so I really enjoyed it, thanks, and I’ve been thinking of ordering some more at some point.

One thing though, and that is that I have no idea why British Rail would be allowed to advertise in a coach company’s brochure.

There was also something about being in Virlet. I was down there and I was looking at the barn. There were all kinds of things growing out of the slates on the barn but right at the peak of the roof where the wind turbine is, there was a tree growing out of it so I tried to find a ladder. I eventually found a ladder and I was trying to stand it up but it fell over. I picked it up but it was the wrong way round, upside-down. I needed to clean some electrical contacts so I was looking for something to clean the contacts but I couldn’t find anything. There was probably something in the barn, but I wanted to put this ladder up so that I could climb up onto the roof and pull this tree out. However, I was in my work clothes, so I was really tidy, with tidy shoes, and I was afraid of dirtying them, but I couldn’t think of how I could change into anything or whether I had anything with me.

It’s not like me to bother about making good clothes dirty – I’ve ruined enough of those in the past. And I never really was much good at manoeuvring ladders around, particularly the old, heavy wooden ones. But anyway, there won’t be plants growing in between the slates on the roof because there aren’t any. It’s a sheet roof pressed to resemble slates.

After that, we had a footfest. Firstly, we had the highlights of the rest of the matches in the JD Cymru League. There was nothing of any excitement there today, except a few heart-stopping moments as a couple of clubs tried the “let’s play it out from the back, guys” routine, but unfortunately, it came to nothing as the teams recovered and cleared their lines.

Secondly, we had Greenock Morton at home to Queens Park. And what a match that was. Morton could have had a dozen goals before half-time and another dozen in the second half, but a well-known phrase involving the hindquarters of a ruminant animal and a stringed musical instrument comes to mind. They were so dominant, especially after a Queens Park player had been sent off, that I was expecting an extremely tragic ending for Morton in the last couple of minutes, but both teams left the field with a 0-0 draw, accompanied by the boos and jeers of both sets of supporters.

Finally, we had Stranraer at home to their bogey team, Forfar Athletic, and as you might expect, the Loons went back to Angus with the three points and a 0-1 victory.

After all of that, I vegetated for a while and then did some more of the long project that I mentioned several weeks ago. And now, it’s slowly beginning to take shape, but there’s a long way to go.

There was a pause as well during the afternoon when I went to make a loaf of bread. That’s now cooked and cooling down in the kitchen, and I’m going to be off to bed in a minute or two, without any tea again.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about lying in bed … "well, one of us has" – ed … Nerina and I went camping once, and I awoke in the middle of the night. The view was so magnificent that I awoke and pointed upwards.
"Look at all of that!" I exclaimed. "I don’t think that I’ve ever seen so many stars before in my life! And there’s a shooting star over there if you look that way!"
"Do you know what that means?" she asked.
"Not at all" I replied.
"It means that some swine has stolen our tent, you berk!"

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