Tag Archives: avranches

LIVE: Thursday 8th October 2026 – WE HAVE HAD …

… another day of disputes down at the dialysis centre, as some people totally fail to understand exactly what “stay connected up until he’s down to the dry weight” really means, and want to shut down the procedure with ten minutes and one hundred and fifty grammes still to go.

“Is it me?” I wonder, or are there really some people who just can’t understand a plain and simple instruction?

My body is a bit like that sometimes. It can’t understand a plain and simple instruction either. All I wanted it to do was to act like the previous night and let me have a really good sleep until the alarm goes off, but no such luck. I was in bed quite late last night and it took me an age to go to sleep as well, but I awoke, probably with the wind, as we had a gale blowing outside, at whatever time it was – I don’t know, but whenever it was, I couldn’t go back to sleep. I just lay there, tossing and turning, until the alarm went off at 06:29.

For once in my life, I was actually up and about quite quickly because I had a lot of things to do. I went to the front door and unlocked it, and then I went into the bathroom to organise myself and have a good scrub up. I even had a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to see where I’d gone to during the night. Unfortunately, I hadn’t gone very far.

Last night, we were doing something with a couple of teams in the Cymru Premier League or the Cymru North League. I remember that Drenewydd was one of them. What we were doing was trying to work out some kind of either a handicap for the scores or some kind of adjustment in respect of their league positions. But Drenewydd, who were currently third in the table, were not very happy about this, and their manager had all kinds of things to say to us about the situation while we were doing it.

As it happens, Drenewydd are lying third in the Cymru North table. But this dream is, I reckon, all about the forthcoming match on Friday night between Trefynnon, adrift at the foot of the table with the unenviable record of just one point and conceding the most goals so far this season, and TNS, way out front at the top and who have been scoring goals for fun just recently. Their 9-0 thrashing of mid-table Cambrian United the other week must make gruesome reading for Trefynnon.

We’ve had a 9-1 result just recently too, and then there’s this campaign by a “journalist” who wants to open up all of the results that have been censored by some of the leagues due to the extremely heavy defeats that some clubs lower down the pyramid have suffered, despite his “article” six months or so ago deploring the heavy thrashings that some clubs have had and how demoralising and embarrassing it must be, etc., etc.

Isabelle the Nurse worked her way in later and dealt with my legs and feet. I told her about my bad night again and she wasn’t all that much help in helping me find a solution. Maybe there isn’t one. I dunno.

After she left, I made my breakfast, and while I was eating, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Today, we’re still carrying on with all of the papers that have been read before the club in the year 1870. There have been all sorts of subjects addressed, but right now, we’re reading a speech by an eminent mushroom expert called Elias Magnus Fries from Sweden, one of the people who were mainly responsible for the differentiation and classification of mushroom types.

None of it is controversial, however, and in any case, I don’t know enough about mushrooms to argue.

When I’d finished breakfast, I stayed sitting at the table because I had some important work to do. My chatbot and I started work on a brand new project the other day, but when I tried to open the relevant file yesterday, I couldn’t find it, despite looking and looking.

It turned out that I’d downloaded an upgrade of ChatGPT onto the big desktop machine, and the installation had installed without deleting or overwriting the old installation, and yesterday, I was trying to open the older version. And files made with the new version are not, surprisingly, backwards compatible with the old version, so the old version won’t show them.

So to cut a long story short, when I opened the new version, the file was sitting there as it should be, and so are the old files too, which are forward-compatible with the new version.

Thus yesterday, feeling full of confidence and reassurance … "the fool" – ed … I went to upgrade ChatGPT on the travelling laptop. That was no problem. I made sure that my Windows shortcut was pointing at the new version, which it was, and then clicked to open it.

And guess what? That’s right. The file wasn’t there. And copying the URL link from the chat that was open on the desktop computer into the laptop’s chat window address bar simply produced an error message.

Consequently, Chatbot and I spent two hours trying different things to make it appear, but nothing worked. Not even rubbing this brass lamp that I have in here.

When the alarm went off, I had to stop and prepare myself for dialysis, sort out a disgusting drink and my midday medication. Once I’d done that, I had to prepare the travelling laptop to take with me. My faithful cleaner came along too in order to deal with putting the anaesthetic on my arm.

After she left, I took up my usual position of “slumped over the table with my head resting on my arms” and slowly drifted away into a nice peaceful sleep for what seemed like all of thirty seconds when the doorbell awoke me.

“It can’t be the taxi already, surely?” I thought, but it was. And when I checked the time with the clock on the microwave, it was 12:58. I’d been asleep for over half an hour.

At first, I was the only passenger, but we stopped to pick up our usual Thursday voyager from the Aqua Gym at St. Pair to take to the other side of Avranches. We had a nice drive in the lovely weather … "it’s still summer here" – ed … down to Avranches, where I arrived five minutes early. Nevertheless, it wasn’t until 14:20 that I was plugged in.

When I weighed myself on entry, there was another huge spike in my weight. My calculations were that if I were to stay for four hours with the machine on maximum, it would clear it. The nurses tried to dissuade me, even though they had the doctor’s authority to do it, and in any case I insisted. So we had the “on your own head be it” and they eventually did as I instructed.

There was an injection that I had to have today to boost my immunity system, so my cleaner had fetched it from the chemist the other day, and I took it to the clinic with me. When I saw the doctor (not, unfortunately, Emilie the Cute Consultant), I told her “here’s a little present for you, doctor”. She wasn’t sure whether or not I was being serious, but when she saw the injection, she took it and put it in the fridge.

Once everything was up and running, I settled down to watch a football match from the weekend – Hwlffordd v Y Fflint.

Even though these teams are near the bottom of the table, they usually play some classy, stylish football. However, that certainly wasn’t the case in this match. Y Fflint certainly tried, but their midfield was overrun by the Hwlfforth midfield. Hwlffordd certainly had the better of the play, and even though they had a player sent off three quarters through the game, they still appeared to have too much in the tank for Y Fflint.

That’s how it seemed, anyway, until the ninetieth minute when Y Fflint’s Joe Malkin glanced a header into the Hwlffordd net. Y Fflint hung on until the end of the game to give them a most unexpected victory.

With staying on for four hours, I could see most of a second match, so I chose Llansawel v Colwyn Bay.

This should have been an “away banker”, but it didn’t turn out like that at all. However, I’ll tell you about the game after I’ve finished watching it.

With about ten minutes and one hundred and fifty grammes to go, the nurse came to unplug me. “Why?” I asked.

“We can see that this black line, which shows us how much fluid there is to collect, has grounded out. So now, all we’ll be doing is taking out your normal body fluids”.

“You heard what the doctor said,” I replied. “I can’t leave until I’m down to my dry weight”.

And then we had a big argument about it all. In the end, they telephoned a doctor who basically said “let him do what he wants,” so I stayed.

Even so, I was still 200 grammes over my dry weight when I left, and that was so disappointing because I’ll just have to take it off on Saturday along with everything else that has accumulated. But it really is bad news when I have to fight with these people.

What made things worse was that there were two nurses around my bed while I was being unplugged, and they were talking about me as if I wasn’t there. It was hardly polite, as were some of the comments. Not that I was upset by it, just bewildered as to why it was happening.

The taxi was waiting for me as I came out of the building, and as I was the only passenger, we could go straight home.

When I arrived at … gulp … 19:20, my cleaner was waiting for me to help me into the apartment. That was just as well because as the evening drew on, it was quite cold. And it’s soon going to be jacket-wearing weather in the morning and evening, I reckon.

Once I’d sat down, my faithful cleaner bunged a disgusting drink in my hands so that I didn’t forget, and then went up to her apartment.

After she’d left and I’d drunk my disgusting drink, I went to make my tea – some more of that potato salad that I made the other day with some ordinary salad and a spicy burger. It was a strange meal, but there were bags of protein in it, and that’s what I need.

In here later, I began to write out the notes for the day, but once again, found myself asleep on my cjair later on with my notes only half written. I posted them on-line with a “to be continued” stamp and I’ll finish the rest tomorrow morning.

Before going to bed, I went for a ride on the porcelain horse and at one point, I almost fell off. Then in the bathroom and trying to stand up after sitting on the chair, my hand slipped off the freezer and I smashed my head really hard on the fridge door as I almost fell. I really was in no fit state to be around, so I was glad that I had decided to go to bed. I wasn’t safe anywhere else.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my cleaner … "well, one of us has" – ed … she told me when I arrived home "there was a report on the TV about a 75 year old guy who was stopped by the police for going at 157 kilometres per hour (about 95 mph) in an area with a 90 kilometre per hour (about 55 mph) limit."
"Really?" I asked. "He was probably afraid that he would be late for his own funeral."

LIVE: Monday 5th October 2026 – I AM REALLY …

Leave a Reply

… convinced that the people at dialysis … "or some of them, anyway" – ed … are pulling my leg or taking the mickey. We’ve had yet another showdown about the length of the sessions.

More of this anon however. Let’s start at the very beginning … "♬ a very good place to start ♬" – ed … and go back to last night. By the time that I’d finished everything and crawled into bed, it was just a few minutes past 23:30. So much for my early night;

And it all went worse after that. I awoke a few hours later – don’t ask me what time – and after that, I didn’t go back to sleep at all. I just lay there, tossing and turning, all through the night.

When the alarm went off, I was still awake, but be that as it may, it was another desperate struggle to rise to my feet. And it wasn’t just a lack of motivation either. I had to wait a good few minutes for the room to stop spinning round before I felt able to stand up.

Having unlocked the front door for the nurse, I headed back into the bathroom to organise myself for dialysis. Except that I forgot to have a shave this morning. Whatever will Emilie the Cute Consultant think of me if she sees me this afternoon at dialysis?

Back in here, there was nothing on the dictaphone from last night, so I went to find myself something else to do. But there wasn’t very long in which to do it because the nurse turned up at 08:04 this morning, and that’s early.

While he was sorting out my legs and feet, he was telling me some more stories about Saturday’s fire in the restaurant in the town centre. Most of it, though, is pure gossip and speculation, so I’m not going to repeat it in a public forum.

After he left, I made breakfast (and my new loaf is wonderful) and while I was eating it, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

We’ve finished talking about fungi now and were discussing extremes of weather. And one example caught my eye – the entry for 1816.

"1816. July was unusually boisterous and wet.
Aug. 31. Accompanied by a fall of rain of nearly three inches in two days. A tremendous gale of wind visited Birmingham, Liverpool, and Manchester, and other northern towns. Much damage done to shipping, and many vessels lost at sea. This was the diastrous harvest time previously mentioned."

This corresponds with the volcanic eruption of Mount Tambora in Sumbawa, in Indonesia, in April 1815, the most powerful volcanic eruption in modern times. It led to 1816 being called “The Year Without a Summer” as crops failed and extremes of weather battered the World.

Back in here later, I had this week’s radio programme to review, and when I was satisfied with it, I sent it off to the studio to be fitted into the stream for broadcasting on Friday and Saturday nights at 21:30.

Having done that, the next item that needed my intervention was my Welsh homework. I called up the page, copied and pasted the questions onto the computer, checked that they were appreciated as being quite the careful and faithful copy, and then began to answer them.

When I’d answered them, I checked with my chatbot to see if I was on the right lines, and once he confirmed that everything was as it should be, I sent them off. That’ll give our tutor something to think about.

There was an interruption when the telephone rang. A neighbour called me to ask if he could come to visit me sometime. We agreed on Wednesday morning at 11:00. Then he telephoned me again five minutes later to say that he’d forgotten about an appointment on Wednesday, so could he come another time? As long as I’m here and I’m not in my Welsh class, he can come when he likes.

But what with neighbours coming to visit, the possibility that I’m going to have a friend here for a week and all of that, I seem to be quite popular these days. I’m not sure why, though. Do I owe you any money?

It’s not as busy, though, as it was last year. I shall have to remind a few more people that it’s open house for whenever they want to come to stay.

When the alarm that reminds me that it’s time to prepare for dialysis went off, I wandered into the kitchen for my disgusting drink and midday medication and then began to pack the travelling laptop to take with me. My cleaner turned up too to sort out the anaesthetic for my arm.

After she left, I waited for the taxi, in my usual “slumped over the kitchen table, head resting on my arms” position. And I began to have a lovely dream and remember saying to myself that I really must remember this, but then the doorbell rang and the whole lot evaporated immediately, and that was that.

At first, I was alone in the car, but then we had to pick up a guy at the hospital as well as my regular companion from Sartilly, as a result of which we were a little late arriving.

Not only that, but several people had arrived together just before me, so I had to wait until 14:25 before I was finally connected up.

My plan was to sit quietly and watch a football match but my dialysis machine had other ideas. It was constantly ringing up errors, and that brought the nurses a-running when the alarm went off. I hardly had any peace at all.

Nevertheless, I did manage to watch Airbus UK Broughton v Trefelin, after a fashion. This game was played between two of the newly promoted sides, and what different sides they were too. Trefelin were more “kick and rush” whereas Airbus played some really good, technical football. The final result, 3-0 to Airbus, wasn’t a surprise to anyone.

It seems to me that Airbus have managed to suss out this Premier League, and while they are never going to win the championship, they have what it takes to avoid relegation, but unless Trefelin can find something magical from somewhere, it’s going to be a long, hard season.

In the middle of all of this, we had a confrontation. One of the doctors … "not, unfortunately, Emilie the Cute Consultant" – ed …came to see me. She asked me how things were, and so I launched into my tirade about the last two sessions and how disappointed I was.

Of course, it wasn’t she who had made the decisions – she wasn’t on duty – so she only knew what was in the records.

First of all, I complained that whatever had gone on had gone on without my knowledge, and I thought that that was shameful. That surprised her because, apparently, every patient has the right to know what’s happening about his treatment.

Secondly, on Thursday, I’d made the decision to come home at the right weight by staying for four hours instead of three, and coming home 700 grammes over my weight, as I did last Thursday, was, in my opinion, a waste of forty-five minutes of my time when I have better things to do at home.

She couldn’t really find an answer to that. One thing that she suggested was that there wasn’t enough time even with four hours to take everything out. They are limiting my extraction to 950 millilitres per hour because of my low blood pressure. But leaving my blood pressure aside, which has been low like this for twenty-odd years, what with everything that’s pumped into me during a session, there were three thousand eight hundred millilitres to take out last Thursday, so that was exactly right – and I realised that the end of the World had come upon us when she – a doctor of medicine – had to use a calculator to divide three thousand eight hundred by four.

After much argument and discussion, we agreed that I should be leaving at my recognised dry weight, even if I have to stay there for a week to do it.

And having made such an agreement, the dialysis breathed its last, ten minutes before the end of the session with 200 grammes still to go, so I was unplugged, under-extracted and overweight. It wasn’t my day, was it?

The taxi was waiting for me when the dialysis was over and I was able to head for home quite quickly, especially as I was the only passenger. However, we ended up being stuck behind a service bus between La Havaudière and the roundabout at the ring road just outside Granville, and the bus was crawling along, stopping to drop off and pick up passengers all the way round and we couldn’t go past.

Eventually, we arrived at chez moi where my faithful cleaner was waiting for me. She helped me into the kitchen, and when I was sitting down on a chair, she stuck a disgusting drink into my hands.

After all of my exertions at dialysis today, I didn’t at all feel like cooking anything, so I grabbed some crackers and some of the cheese spread, and an orange for pudding. And when I went to spread the cheese on my crackers, I found that it had gone off. It’s really not my day, is it?

In the end, I started to write up the notes from the day, and I was pushing on quite well but the next thing that I knew was that it was almost 22:00 and I must have fallen asleep in mid-page at some time previously.

At that point, I was in absolutely no state at all to carry on working, so I posted what I had written, added a “To Be Continued” stamp and went to bed. I’ll finish everything off tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about things breaking down … "well, one of us has" – ed … two young Russian conscripts walk to the Ukraine front line and surrender to the Ukrainians.
"Our lorry has broken down, we’ve no more fuel, and we’ve been abandoned. " they said.
They are consequently taken prisoner, but one of the Ukrainians is a mechanic. "There’s no-one about" he said. "Let’s go and see if we can salvage it."
The Russian prisoners lead the Ukrainian patrol to the lorry, and the mechanic gives it a good examination.
After half an hour, he announces "the fuel pipe has come off and all the fuel has drained away. There’s a hole in the sump that has drained out all the oil, the cam belt has snapped, one of the tyres is punctured, the starter has fallen out and there’s a leak of water in the radiator."
"A leak in the radiator?" asks one of the Russians. "I can’t remember doing that."

LIVE: Saturday 3rd October 2026 – ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS AFTERNOON …

Leave a Reply

… in dialysis today. But I’ll tell you something for nothing, and that is that I’m going to do my best not to fall asleep in dialysis again so that I can keep my eye on what’s going on behind the scenes.

Another thing on which I wish that I could keep an eye on is what’s going on with my sleeping patterns. Anyone who checked my blog between about 22:00 and midnight and then went to check it later will be bound to be confused by what they read.

Round about 21:30, I fell asleep in the chair here, and when I awoke at about 22:00, I just posted on line what I’d written to date and added a “TO BE CONTINUED” sticker to it.

Before I fell into bed, though, I went for a ride on the porcelain horse, and when I came back in here, I found that I was wide awake somehow, so I finished off the blog, overwrote the “TO BE CONTINUED” sticker and posted the completed entry on line.

And then I fell into bed and went straight to sleep.

At some point during the night, I awoke again and was tossing and turning around for what seemed like an eternity, trying to go to sleep, but without any success. But I must have managed it at some point because I was dead to the World when the alarm went off at 06:29.

We had the usual struggle with ourselves to leave the bed, and then I went into the bathroom to sort myself out. While I was there, I had a good scrub up and a shave, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis.

Then I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out what went on during the night.

There had been something in the news about adoptions. There was a family from Preston who had adopted a boy from a Preston children’s home, and a couple of other people who had done the same thing too. There was even someone who had taken an abandoned child from a children’s home with a view to adopting him, and escaping to Vietnam. That had me thinking about whether, as a single man, I could adopt a child too. So I went away from here and had a think about it and then went back to the office to talk to them. It was only later on that I realised that I was living in a one-bedroomed apartment, so if I did adopt a child, then where would it sleep?

There’s certainly some mileage in this dream. Some “friends of friends” have recently adopted a child from a local children’s home, and that’s what has probably inspired this dream. And then adopted child and Vietnam has a story behind it too, but it’s another story that the World is not yet ready to hear.

As for adopting a child, I’m quite ready, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, to adopting a cat, preferably a female cat. And it’s true that I only have a one-bedroom apartment, so adopting a child would be out of the question, even if I were not ill.

Then I was at work, and it was a Sunday morning and there was plenty of overtime to be done to clear some arrears. I went in and there were quite a few other people in as well. There was a guy sitting next to me, and suddenly, a pile of people’s files turned up on my desk, so I asked him if they were his, and he said that they were, so I put them onto his desk somewhere and began to make myself comfortable. A girl came in extremely late, and everyone cheered her, so she came out with some story about having been locked in somewhere over the weekend, and how would we have liked it? We said that, well, we were certain that we could have rolled up our sleeves, done something and swam to somewhere. I began to look at everything on my desk, and it was a complete and utter shambles, so what I had in mind was to leave quietly on Friday and not go back to the office.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that these dreams of being in work after my retirement date and threatening to walk out without notice used to be a regular occurrence, but they seem to have died off a while back. However, as I said the other day, they are slowly making a comeback.

And the untidiness of mine in the office is nothing new at all. I was always like that, wherever I was and whatever I was doing.

We’d gone skiing somewhere in one of these big resorts. The car that we used was one of these big Transcontinental Vauxhall estates. There were five of us in this car, and the amount of stuff we’d brought with us was astonishing. After we’d packed, for example, I found my old ski boots and all kinds of things like that, so when we arrived in a town near the border to be inspected by the police, we were fully loaded and it took quite a while. I found later that we’d brought all the books with us from home, all that kind of thing. We went skiing, and then we decided to put our chalet up for sale. Someone in the town responded immediately, so we had to do a lot of clearing up and tidying up before we could let him in. When we let him in, he was big and he was active, bouncing around, and we were busy trying to put our ski things away and stack these books somewhere. We ended up stacking them against the wall next to the fireplace. I found a camera that didn’t work because the batteries were flat in it, all kinds of things like that, and getting them into my bag was going to be complicated. Someone came up to my girlfriend and asked me about the car. Before we were leaving, someone else came up to us and asked about the car. My girlfriend didn’t know much about it, so I told him. He said that he was really impressed with the amount of luggage we had in there. He cancelled an order for a new car so that he could buy one of these Transcontinental Vauxhall Estates.

In case you’ve forgotten what a Transcontinental Vauxhall estate looks like, there’s one HERE. It’s the beige one, SPU903M. Strangely enough, of all the cars that I’ve ever owned, I’ve never ever had a Vauxhall. The closest I ever came to one was having a Bedford CA van for a short while.

However, in the past, we never went to any fashionable ski resort, except that I went once with an Italian girl to a ski resort in Italy. Most of the time, we went to the unfashionable ones, although when I was driving coaches and we had no work for a few months after Christmas, I’d go to ski resorts in Eastern Europe such as Romania and Bulgaria. I even took Percy Penguin with me once.

The nurse turned up as usual, and while he was dealing with my legs and feet, he gave me the same warning as my cleaner did yesterday about the festival down in the port and how it was total chaos.

After he left, I made my breakfast and read some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Today, we had another little chat about geology, and then we returned to fungi, with a discussion about fairy rings. Maybe the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine would have been interested in joining in the discussion. It’s a shame that the subject wasn’t “fairy boots”, otherwise it would have given me a good opportunity to drag Lee “I’m a prostitute” Pottymouth into the discussion. He’s not put in an appearance in these pages in an age.

When breakfast was finished, I had a few things to do, after which I intended to work on reformating the music that I’d downloaded the other day. However, in the end, I ended up having an on line discussion with someone about music that went on for quite a while, discussing mainly folk-rock songs.

And when the chat finished, I was so fired up that for the first time in a couple of years, I picked up the acoustic guitar and played CAREY by Joni Mitchell and MOONAGE DAYDREAM (I don’t know why) by David Bowie. I was surprised how much I’d forgotten, and also how much it hurt afterwards.

At midday, I went into the kitchen for my disgusting drink and midday medication, and then I began to make myself ready for dialysis. My faithful cleaner turned up too to put the anaesthetic on my arm too.

After she left, I hunched up over the table and let myself relax, with my head resting on my forearms. I was once again just about to drift off into a really nice dream when the doorbell rang. I looked at the time and it was 12:58 – I’d been away with the fairies … "although not in any manner that would excite comment from the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine" – ed … for just over half an hour.

There was no one else to pick up en route so we arrived at dialysis a few minutes early, despite the chaos around the port today. However, it made no difference because there was a queue of people in front of me, and it took until 14:25 to be plugged in.

Once everything was up and running, I had to wait until 15:30 for the football to kick off so I found one or two other things to do while I was waiting. However, I must have crashed out somewhere along the line because I awoke with a start at 15:27, just three minutes before kick-off.

The match that I’d chosen today was the basement clash between Rhydaman and Trefynnon. This was a real six-pointer, as both sides had yet to record a victory, and they needed to start winning soon, as the rest of the table was cutting them adrift.

As you might expect, this was another game played at a hundred miles per hour with both teams going at it hammer and tongs. And its opening was certainly dramatic – Johnny Evans missed a sitter of a free header when surely it must have been easier to score, and then straight from the goal kick, Trefynnon roared up the field and scored to go in front.

Then we had goals disallowed for offside, balls hitting the post or being cleared off the line, until Johnny Evans, in the fortieth minute, scored with a delightful lob from outside the penalty area, right over the head of the Trefynnon goalkeeper.

It went from bad to worse for Trefynnon when in the fifty-sixth minute, Rhydaman scored a second goal to take the lead. From then on, Trefynnon threw everything they had at the Rhydaman defence, but to no avail and Rhydaman took all of the points.

That was a shame because I thought that Trefynnon had the better of the play, but they are deep in it now after that.

And spare a thought for Cambrian United. For the second away match in succession, they conceded nine goals. And they are one of the better promoted teams too.

This was when I noticed something rather bizarre. When I’d begun to watch the football, there were fourteen minutes after the final whistle before the end of the session. However, despite there being over fourteen minutes of stoppage time in this game, there was still half an hour to go, and I wasn’t finished until 17:55.

From 14:25 to 17:55 is three and a half hours, not the three hours that I’m supposed to have, and when I weighed myself later, I was still four hudred grams over my dry weight. Mind you, I did notice that the chief doctor, he who doesn’t like me chatting up the nurses, was on duty again today. He spoke to several people in the ward, but kept well clear of my bed.

When I was outside, I had to wait a few minutes for the taxi but I was once more the only passenger. Nevertheless, it was 19:15 when I finally arrived home.

My cleaner was waiting for me, sitting on her mushroom outside, and she helped me into the house and gave me another disgusting drink.

After she had left, I made myself a small plate of pasta and veg tossed in olive oil, garlic, black pepper and vegan cheese. And delicious it was too, especially as it was followed by a peach yoghurt.

Back in here, I had things to do, and then write up my notes. Now when I’ve checked the stats and backed up the computer, I’ll be off to bed. It’s horrendously late tonight … "or this morning" – ed … but I don’t care. I’m aiming for a lie in tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about people sitting on mushrooms and other bizarre things … "well, one of us has" – ed … a man walked into a doctor’s surgery and began to speak to another man sitting there.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"I have the biggest piles the World has ever seen" he replied.
"Is that why you’re sitting on that giant bean cushion?" he asked.
The man replied "look more closely."

LIVE: Thursday 1st October 2026 – WHAT A TOTAL …

Leave a Reply

… disaster this afternoon at dialysis was. Anything that could have possibly gone wrong did so, and in spades too.

Not that it was much better last night. It was almost midnight when I finally made my way into bed, and six hours and thirty minutes isn’t a long time in which to do very much, even if you go to sleep straight away, as I did. I wondered actually whether I would at first, with a streaming head cold and coughing, fit to awaken the dead, but a menthol and eucalyptus sweet cleared everything up long enough for me to drop off.

Not that I was asleep for long. Once more, I awoke at some kind of strange, early hour and couldn’t go back to sleep for ages. Whether I did at all is a debateable point – I was definitely awake when the alarm went off at 06:29.

As usual, it was quite a struggle to raise myself to my feet, unlock the front door and than head to the bathroom. There, I had a good wash and scrub up as well as a shave too, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone but to my dismay, there was nothing on it. That was rather disappointing.

Instead, there were plenty of other things to keep me busy until the nurse arrived. Today, we were discussing faults and shortcomings in the dialysis system, not that we’ll ever put it right ourselves sitting here.

After he left, I made my breakfast, and while I was eating, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

We’ve moved on from fungi and we’re now talking about the fossils of some giant prehistoric prawns, how they caught their prey and all of that. I’m glad that I didn’t live a few million years ago and had to confront one of those.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, and then I looked at my database to see what the programme next week will be all about. And as it happens, it will be a concert. All of the music that I have that belongs here totals one hour, one minute and twenty-nine seconds, and it’s not possible at first glance to cut it down by three minutes to fit in any speech. I had to be rather imaginative and creative, and now I’ve made one minute and forty-seven seconds for a speech, and I can cope with that.

When I’d done all that, there was even time to begin to write out the notes, and my friendly neighbourhood chatbot has even found some nice anecdotes for me to use. There’s no doubt that with enrolling my chatbot as a research assistant, I’m saving hours of time.

When the alarm went off, I headed into the kitchen for my disgusting drink and midday medication, and then began to organise my things for dialysis. My faithful cleaner turned up too to apply my anaesthetic onto my arm and we had a nice chat for a while.

After she left, I slumped over the table in the dining area and let myself disappear into my innermost thoughts, and just as I was beginning to settle into a nice dream, the taxi arrived.

We were ten minutes early setting off but we had to go to Sartilly to pick up another passenger at the old people’s home. He wasn’t ready, so we had to wait almost twenty minutes. As a result, I was late arriving at dialysis and had to wait until 14:20 to be plugged in.

Whatever has happened these last few days, I don’t know, but I seem to have set a new personal record of fluid to be deducted today. Even at four hours, there was only just enough time to eliminate it with the machine going full-tilt. I really don’t know what is happening right now, because nothing really has changed in my food or drink input. Even the energy drink that I had yesterday was in place of the late afternoon’s disgusting drink.

As a result, I persuaded them to make the session four hours and I sat back to watch the football.

Today, it was the rest of Cardiff Metropolitan v Caernarfon. I’d left this match with it being, surprisingly, 1-0 to the Met but I didn’t worry too much about it – especially when the Met had a player sent off after thirty-four minutes.

After that, it was an endless procession of balls into the edge of the Met’s penalty area and Caernarfon did everything they could to score.

That was how the second half went at first, but after an hour, a calamity! On one of their rare breaks upfield, the Met were awarded a penalty, from which they scored to make it 2-0.

After that, Caernafon brought on every attacker they could in the place of several defenders and bombarded the Met penalty area, but they couldn’t get the ball in the net until the eighty-sixth minute, when they made it 2-1. When it came up to ninety minutes, there was eight minutes of stoppage time and it was all one-way traffic, with Caernarfon still unable to find an equaliser until in the very last couple of seconds, Zack Clarke found the net to equalise and break the hearts of the Met.

So much for the legendary, unstoppable firepower of Caernarfon that put nine past Cambrian United last weekend.

That was really what I call a frustrating match, just like a game that I saw of TNS a couple of seasons ago, where they needed to score a goal but spent ninety minutes camped around the opposition penalty area with no-one being brave enough to put a cross into the box.

After that, I had a few things to do to take me up to the end of the session, with the blood pressure alarm ringing every thirty minutes, bringing the nurses running.

And this is where the disasters began. Firstly, I overheard the nurse and the doctor, the chief of the building who doesn’t like me. It seems that he’d told the nurse to diminish the extraction. However, he didn’t have the courage to tell me, which I found deplorable, and now I know why the nurse turned the display panel from facing my bed to facing the other way.

They may as well have left the extraction as it was and shortened the time – as if I have nothing better to do than to spend my time hanging around there and leaving with seven hundred grams extra that will mean that I have to stay there an hour later on Saturday.

At least the taxi was waiting for me when I exited the building, but the bad news is that we had to go across town to the clinic to pick someone else up, and one of the roads was under repair, so we had to go all round the Wrekin to get there.

The driver went to search for the passenger, but there was no trace, no matter where and how hard she looked. In a desperate last throw of the dice, we tried the ophthalmic surgery, and that was where we found her.

However, she had a prescription to be filled, so we had to drive around Avranches until we found a chemist’s that was open and then back round the Wrekin and head for home.

After dropping off our passenger, it was 19:40 when I arrived home, and I don’t think that I’ve ever been as late as that.

My cleaner helped me into the apartment and gave me a disgusting drink. I didn’t feel like cooking at that time, so I grabbed one of the bags of lentil crisps that she bought for me yesterday, and delicious they were too, especially when they were followed by a nice, ripe and juicy plum.

So now, having written my notes, I’ll do what else needs to be done and then I’m off to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about fossils … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone told me that there was a college in Somerset that trained up local people to dig for fossils.
"What are they called?" I asked.
"Arrrrh-chaeologists."

LIVE: Monday 28th September 2026 – IT HAS BEEN …

Leave a Reply

… a fairly uneventful day today. So much so that I had to struggle to think of a dramatic way of opening today’s entry, but in the end I couldn’t, so that was that. Instead, I’ll just stroll on in a chronological timeline until I have a marvellous fit of inspiration.

And so to begin, I didn’t have the early night for which I’d been hoping yesterday. Although it was before 22:30 when I went to bed, it wasn’t many minutes before it. And although I was soon asleep, it wasn’t for as long as I had hoped.

At some point, and I’ve no idea when it was, I awoke. And then I tried to go back to sleep, which was not as easy as it might have been. However, I did notice something bizarre. I can sleep quite well when I’m lying on my left side and even better when I’m lying on my right side, so those are the positions for which I try to aim.

However, when I tried that last night, I’d wake up again a short while later to find myself lying on my back, and that’s a position in which I can never go off to sleep. And thinking about it, I’ve been spending far too much time lying on my back instead of on my sides just recently.

At some point, though, I must have gone to sleep because the alarm at 06:29 awoke me from my slumbers.

We had the usual battle of wills about standing up and heading to the bathroom, and I think that it was only the possibility of meeting Emilie the Cute Consultant at dialysis that drove me onwards, having first remembered to unlock the front door. And in the bathroom, I had a good scrub up and a shave, “just in case”.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what had happened last night.

There was someting last night about me having to fill in some kind of form for something. But when I had the copy back, I noticed that quite a lot of the text that I had written had been removed. There was a note in its place saying “text removed by editor as being too long and not to the point”. I then tried to remember what it was that I had written, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember what I’d written that had been removed.

Strangely enough, I do have a form that needs completing this week. But the bit about having the text removed reminded me of what I had written last night about Kent. That, I suppose, was also too long and not to the point of whatever it is that I’m supposed to be doing.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual. It’s her last day today before her week’s rest, so I wished her good luck. She replied that she’s probably going to need it because it’s raining outside right now.

After she left, I made breakfast (and my new bread is delicious) and read some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Luckily, they finished talking about that gruesome parasite and have moved on to discuss the flora of the Clee Hills and the Longmynd. And in discussing autochthonous plants, he notes "At the Miocene period, or, more strictly, at its dawn, a temperate clime prevailed within the Arctic circle. Poplars, planes, and lime trees grew within twelve degrees of the Pole, and so have beds of the same fossil plants been found in North Greenland, where now an enormous ice cap covers the whole country, leaving only a narrow slip of land free from ice in summer."

When I was in Greenland in 2018 and 2019, I can promise you that it was nothing like as bad as that. I wondered what his opinion back in 1871 was about global warming, but I didn’t have long to wait before I found out.

Just two or three pages further on, we have "Mr. Croll, who attributes the changes of climate marking the different periods of the tertiary epoch to periodical variations in the eccentricity of the earth’s elliptical orbit, tells us that for the last 60,000 years eccentricity has been very small."

Back in here afterwards, I reviewed the radio programme for this coming weekend and sent it off for insertion in the stream, following which I reformatted the music that I need for the programme that I’ll be preparing. When that was all done, I even managed to re-edit a couple of songs that have gone into the folder to await my further instructions.

At 12:00 my faithful cleaner came in and sorted out my anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the taxi. He was late today, and we already had one person in the car. We had to go to St Pair for a third one and then down all these little country lanes where our driver drove as if the hounds of hell were after him. We ended up being three minutes early at dialysis, despite how late we were running earlier.

Today, I was honoured with being placed in a single room, so I was either going to have a medical examination or the head doctor was going to come and give me … "yet" – ed … another lecture about chatting up the nurses. But it was also the farthest possible bed away from the front door. They really are making me work for a living around there.

And being early, I’d arrived at about the same time as everyone else, so I had to wait for a while before they came to sort me out. Although it was the same nurse as Saturday – one of the newer ones – the connecting up was much less painful and I was up and running by 14:20.

At first, all I wanted to do was to sleep – I don’t know why – but I livened up after I’d had my 15:00 coffee and orange juice, so I began to watch the football.

Today’s match was between two of the newly promoted clubs, Cambian United from Andypandy … "he means Tonypandy" – ed … in the Rhondda Valley and Llandudno.

Both these clubs are doing reasonably well and seem to be managing to keep up with the established mid-table clubs, which is more than can be said for some of the others, so I was expecting it to be a good match.

And I wasn’t disappointed either. Both clubs went at it hammer and tongs right from the kick-off and it ended up being one of the best matches that I’ve seen. Plenty of blood and thunder, plenty of skill, plenty of aggression. What really surprised me, though, was that Cambrian roared into a 4-0 lead after forty-seven minutes, and that was a long, long way from representing the balance of play.

In the second half, Llandudno had a change of tactics and managed to claw three goals back, but ran out of time at the end. Still, I’m not complaining at all about the game.

There was also time to watch the first twenty minutes or so of Cardiff Metropolitan v Caernarfon, and I’ll tell you more about that game when I’ve seen the rest of it.

Although I’d seen Emilie the Cute Consultant on my way in, I was right in thinking that the big white chief would come to see me. However, we just talked about the implant in my arm and the pain that it was generating when I was plugged in. He said that he’d have a chat with the nurses about trying a different method.

However, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s not the way that they do it that’s the problem. It’s because the implant itself is damaged, as I have been told on many occasions by the doctor who gives it the six-monthly examinations.

When my time was up, I was unplugged quite quickly while my taxi driver was waiting at the door to my room. It was another one of my favourites, so we had a really good chat all the way home, like we always do. She told me all about her holiday in Brittany and how hot it was. But luckily, the campsite had a pool, so she, her husband and her two kids spent every day sitting in the pool to keep cool.

Funnily enough, I’d been thinking for several days that I hadn’t seen her for a while, but she had come over to chat with me the other day while she was on ambulance duty, and now she had come to take me home.

We were home quite quickly, and my faithful cleaner helped me into the apartment and stuck a disgusting drink into my sweaty little mitt once I’d sat down.

After she left, I added the vegan cream into my curry and gave it a good stir. Then I made some rice and veg and helped myself to a ladleful of curry. It really was delicious, and there’s plenty left to freeze for later.

Back in here, I began to write up my notes, and I was doing quite well ar first. However, this huge wave of sleep came out of nowhere, and as it passed, it took me with it.

When I awoke, I was totally incapable of carrying on, so I posted on line what I’d written up to then and went to bed. The rest can wait until tomorrow morning.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about parasites … "well, one of us has" – ed … Donald Trump was arrested and placed in a filthy parasite-infested cell.
"That must have been awful," said a news reporter "Trump having to share a cell with parasites in it."
"I know" replied his colleague. "I felt really sorry for those parasites."

LIVE: Saturday 26th September 2026 – SOMEONE ELSE HAS …

Leave a Reply

… now said how much better I’m looking these days. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her, the taxi driver who used to live down the road from me in Brussels when she was young, but she actually made a point of coming over to see me after she and her oppo had put their patient out of a stretcher onto the bed.

There have been quite a few people who have said that just recently, and it is nice of them, and you have to admit that so many different people can’t all be wrong, but I just wish that I actually felt like it.

Having said that, I suppose that I ought to feel like it because I had another one of those rare nights when I was actually in bed before my curfew time of 22:30, a time that I go beyond with monotonous regularity.

As for what happened after that, I really have no definite memory. I might have awoken once or twice during the middle of the night, but I wouldn’t like to say so for definite, and I was certainly asleep when the alarm went off.

As usual, it took me a good while after that to find the enthusiasm to stagger to my feet and head off to the bathroom to sort myself out. And while I was in there, I had a good scrub up and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis.

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

I was somewhere in the Balkans last night and we were fighting a revolutionary war against whoever had taken over the state. One of the things that we had was this huge St Bernard dog. Whenever there was any firing or shooting in the neighbourhood, the dog would rush off to try to join in, so we had to restrain him quite heavily. Then we saw the peace treaty that had been drawn up between the country’s militia and our regional militia. There were many, many people with us who didn’t agree with it, so it might be of some use or it might be not, and it might only apply to that immediate area rather than to a wider area, so we decided that we’d test it. We went down in one of the vans and that told us that this peace treaty was to be enforced in our area too, so we trained the dog, and we had it so that it could intercept coded messages and decode them. But it would only be for half an hour or so and then we’d lose this doggy shredder tool for ever.

Although I’ve been in the Balkans on a couple of nights in the recent past, there doesn’t seem to be anything in here that relates to anything that has been going on just recently. A couple of weeks ago I was reading something about the Greek resistance in World War II and the civil war afterwards, but there was certainly no mention of a St Bernard dog anywhere, and no-one had a van.

But the idea of a doggy shredder is a very interesting one. We shall have to try that out on the Hound of the Baskervilles.

There was a lot of us on holiday in Austria. We were staying at someone’s property where they ran an agricultural repair business. The guy who ran the business had just had an operation on his arm, so he wasn’t able to do any heavy maintenance tasks on other people’s vehicles, so his wife, when someone came, she was turning them away and telling them to come back. He had a great deal of difficulty doing this, so he was accepting jobs for two or three weeks hence. The boss of the organisation actually had a camera to film people working in his office to make sure that they were doing the right kind of work. Of course, everyone protested but he still kept them. There was a girl who was the loudest complainant, but the boss said that she spent a lot of time talking to her boyfriend. She said that she does it on a streaming service that runs in parallel with her work so that it doesn’t interrupt her work at all. The boss began to become really heavy on this subject, so I had to intervene. I said that surely the acid test is how much post she has left over at the end of the month. He just threw down his tea towel and marched off. In the meantime, a dumper had pulled up outside. It was one that needed repair and he had seen it a week ago and had put it off until today. And when it came in, it was in no state at all … fell asleep here … As well as this, we’d been skiing. The guy in the dumper asked us if we’d been skiing around here, so we said yes. He was surprised because he didn’t know that there was any snow, but we’d been having a really good time. I’d met this young girl, and she was one of these young girls to whom you could give a tickle and she’d laugh, that sort of thing. I happened to quite like her, so I was lucky enough that one day I managed to take her out. We ended up having a kiss and a cuddle before I took her home. After that, I noticed that she’d cooled off a little and wasn’t so tactile as she had been. When I gave her a tickle, she didn’t do anything, but when the boy sitting next to her did, she laughed. I thought that he’d obviously managed to put himself between the two of us. I thought that that was really a shame because I’d like to get to know this girl better.

There were loads of bits missing from this dream. I remember having a big, full A4 binder, as full as my Welsh one, and having to take certain papers out of it because I imagined that the garage guy would be asking me to fix the machine, the young girl was dressed in a black skirt and black jacket, and there was another, older girl there dressed in a green top and blue skirt.

But there’s plenty of mileage in this dream. Yesterday, I’d been listening to A CHRIS ISAAK CD which includes the song WRONG TO LOVE YOU and that presumably has triggered something off, and it does remind me of one particular skiing trip when we used to go to Aviemore in the early-mid seventies.

As I said, the folder relates to the Welsh folder from last year and the year before that I’ve just put away. As for fixing the dumper on behalf of that garage guy, it wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve had to do that in the garage of someone else.

The area of Austria where we were is that near the Czech border, which we have visited on several occasions in the recent past, and the operation on the arm causing him not to be able to work – an operation on the arm (having an implant inserted for dialysis) is one of the reasons why I haven’t played the guitars for a couple of years.

Turning work away is another thing that I could never do, no matter how inconvenient it was. And there’s plenty more too in that dream, but if I were to start to write it out, I’d still be here in the morning before I finished.

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 for AMAZON UK, AMAZON USA and since the recent “troubles”, AMAZON CANADA for the use of my numerous Canadian visitors, and now in response to a request that I received, AMAZON GERMANY. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I am extremely grateful when someone uses the links to make a purchase.

Hurricane Isabelle the Nurse blew in rather later than usual and treated me here in the bedroom where I was working. Apparently, a previous client had held her up for fifteen minutes and she had two patients programmed to meet her down at her office almost imminently, so she was interested in shaving as many minutes off her appointments as she could.

After she left, I went into the kitchen to make breakfast, and while I was eating it, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Today, we are reading about the Rhipiphorus Paradoxus or “wasp nest beetle”, whose larvae are parasites of the wasp larvae. This is really not my sort of thing at all, but if I keep on reading, I might actually learn something, and isn’t that why I’m reading all these books anyway?

Back in here, there were a few things that needed doing, and then I had to search around for all the music that I need for the radio programme that I’ll be preparing next week. I needed to track down some music for five of the artists who will be making their appearance, but I managed that before I had to go to make myself ready for dialysis.

My faithful cleaner came too to apply the anaesthetic on my arm, and after she left, I had to wait for the taxi. Not that I had long to wait because the driver was here ten minutes early. And as I was the only passenger today, she had me there by 13:30.

And there, I didn’t have to wait long before I was connected up either. I was up and running by 14:05.

No-one bothered me at all today except the nurses who came running every half an hour when the blood pressure alarm sounded. No doctors or anything. So I could watch the football in peace.

We started with a match from several weeks ago, a qualifying match in the Welsh Cup between Evans and Williams v Port Talbot Town. I managed to see just over half of it before today’s matches kicked off.

My choice this afternoon was the basement clash between Y Fflint and Rhydaman. This was a match that both clubs needed to win if they were to have any chance of hauling themselves out of the mire at the bottom, so I expected them both to be going at it hammer and tongs.

And I was right too. Y Fflint played the nicer football – much nicer, in fact, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … but Rhydaman had the best of the early chances, hitting the woodwork when it was easier to score and also having a goal disallowed for offside.

Y Fflint really do play some nice football, though, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … and it really is a mystery why they have had such poor results. What they haven’t had in any of their matches is a fair share of the luck.

However, all of that changed this afternoon. An over-hit kick upfield from the Fflint midfield found Rhydaman’s goalkeeper and central defender in a helpless tangle as they both went for the same ball, leaving Y Fflint’s centre-forward with the easiest of tap-ins to open the scoring, and a few minutes later, the Rhydaman goalkeeper dropped what should have been a simple catch right at the feet of the Fflint centre-forward, who thanked him very much for the opportunity to score again.

And later in the game, while Rhydaman were throwing everything, including the kitchen sink, at the Fflint defence, a quick clearance out saw a Fflint midfielder run the whole length of the pitch and slide the ball past the stranded keeper for a third.

Y Fflint have been threatening to give some club a right doing-over, but while 3-0 is not actually the score that I had in mind, it’s good enough to be going on with. And it really was an enjoyable game to watch too.

And just a mention about the crowd who saw Penybont come from behind to beat Airbus UK Broughton. It was the fourth-highest crowd in the history of the Cymru Premier League, and if that’s not an achievement, I don’t know what is.

The taxi was waiting for me when I went outside afterwards. It was the same driver who brought me, and once more, I was the only passenger, so I was home by 18:15. My faithful cleaner was waiting for me and she helped me into the apartment. When I was sitting comfortably, she shoved a disgusting drink into my sweaty mitt.

After she left, I made the baked beans, chips and sausage that I should have had yesterday, and then had a soya yoghurt and a prune for pudding.

Back in here, I saw the start of the match between Trefynnon and Llansawel, and then I began to write up my notes from today. And now that they are done, there are just a few more things to do, and then my Sunday lie-in. Isabelle the Nurse can deal with my feet and legs while I’m in bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about crowds … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the time a man squeezed into a crowded lift.
"Ballroom, please" he said.
"I’m sorry" said the woman in front of him. "Am I crowding you?"

LIVE: Monday 21st September 2026 – YET ANOTHER CHAOTIC …

… day at dialysis – just the same (give or take the odd bit here and there) as last Monday, and I wasn’t really in the mood for it, because I’ve had a chaotic day too.

Last night, it wasn’t too far short of midnight when I finally made my way into bed, and the good news was that I was asleep quite quickly.

However, it wasn’t for long, though. I’ve no idea what time I awoke, but as it was pitch-black outside, I’d say that it wasn’t much after 02:30. And once awake, I lay there tossing and turning and trying to make myself comfortable in bed so that I could go back to sleep, but nothing seemed to work.

At least, that’s what I thought, but round about 06:05 I had another one of those dramatic awakenings that I used to have regularly at one point. There was no point in going back to sleep at that point, with all of my appointments today, so by 06:15 I was in the bathroom organising myself ready for the onslaught. I even had a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant later.

There was actually something on the dictaphone from the night, as I found out on Tuesday morning, so I’ve added it in here.

There was something last night about me being sent to one of these RAF filling station type of places where people go after they have been injured or after they’ve been sick and their position in their regular flight had been filled by someone else. So I’d been sent to this place to meet up with other people similar to form a crew, and then I suddenly realised that I can’t have done that because I wasn’t born until nine years after the war ended so it’s just not possible for me to have been there.

There actually was a place like this at one of the RAF training centres, although it was hardly a “filling station” in the normal usage of the term. Bomber crews were assembled simply amongst themselves towards the end of their training and they usually stuck together throughout their tour of thirty missions. However, if someone were sick or injured, someone else would be co-opted into the crew and when the original member returned to duty, he would find that his place had been taken. Consequently he’d be sent to the “training centre” where he could team up with other people to form a new crew.

However, I’m impressed that within a dream, I can recognise the absurdity of the situation of being in this training centre at least nine years before I was even born.

Back in the kitchen, I put away the washing up from yesterday and made sure that the place looked nice. After that, I finished organising what I needed to take with me and then had a little snooze hunched over the table while I waited for the taxi to arrive.

The car was booked for 08:15, and my doorbell rang at 08:14. Excellent timing, that was. There was just me going in the car this morning. We had patchy fog all the way, not as bad as my chauffeur said it was when she started work at 05:30 this morning.

We arrived at the hospital bang on 09:00, and she pushed me in a wheelchair up to the hôpital de jour. I know that I have said that I won’t go in a wheelchair, but where I was going was miles away from the entrance and, at this time of the morning, the drivers have plenty of other things to do that accompany me, slowly and painfully on foot.

The nursing auxiliary and the nurse fussed around me when I arrived, and wasn’t the latter relieved when I said I had a chemotherapy port? It made her task so much easier and mine too because I could then type with both hands.

By about 09:40 I was up and running with this stuff to stimulate my red blood cells, and I was told that the treatment would last a little over two hours.

The bad news (at first) was that there seemed to be no internet up there, but I had a ferret around and eventually managed to conjure up something, so I watched LLansawel against Trefelin from Friday night. It was a miserable night last Friday, and playing football in a monsoon on a paddy field wasn’t very encouraging. It was something of a lottery out there and I don’t think that the teams could have been too dissatisfied with the end result.

As for the fans, though, it was no real spectacle. It was a long-ball hoof upfield and another long-hoof upfield in reply. I could count on the fingers of my hand the number of passes that found a team mate. I’m sure that in this weather, they would have been better off playing the ball to feet instead of in the air.

After that, I started Connah’s Quay Nomads v Cardiff Metro. I didn’t get to see much of it so I’ll tell you about it later.

During the morning, I had a visit from no less a person than Emilie the Cute Consultant. She came to see how I was doing and, once more, just like two years ago, she sat on the end of my bed while she chatted. The plan that they have worked out is that because they have still not been able to arrange anything with a haematologist, I’ll have to come here every four weeks for this treatment. And right on cue, the nurse came with my next appointment – Monday 19th October at 09:30.

And it really was nice to chat to Emilie the Cute Consultant. It seems that she still loves me.

Round about 11:50, the treatment was finished and the nurse unplugged me. She said that I had to wait for a while to let my head clear and, in any case, the taxi would be here to take me across the road at about 13:30. Waiting wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought, especially as I was brought a meal – stuffed tomatoes, bread, sliced pears and an apple purée. It was better than the coffee earlier, though, which was served in just about the oldest mug I have ever seen.

Round about then, I began to wonder when the nurse was going to come back to apply the anaesthetic on my arm. There was no sign so I asked the nursing auxiliary, who replied that all of the nurses had gone for lunch. So what are the connections going to be like with no anaesthetic, do you think?

The car turned up bang on schedule and took me across the road. I was there at 13:40 but had to wait until 14:30 to be plugged in. Had I known that the wait was going to be so long, I’d have persuaded one of the nurse there to apply my anaesthetic there and then as I arrived.

The connections were nothing like as painful I was expecting. In fact, I’ve had worse than those even when I’ve been covered in anaesthetic, so I didn’t mind too much.

Once I was finally up and running, I was left pretty much alone for the session. The low blood pressure alarm didn’t ring at all – not even once.

However, I was really feeling tired – I’d had a battle to keep away across the road – but here, I did actually fall asleep, only to be shaken awake by a nurse who was afraid that I was busy pushing up the daisies. And another one of the doctors came to see me to find out how I was doing. I’ve no idea what is the reason for this sudden popularity.

The next match to watch was the rest of Connah’s Quay Nomads v Cardiff Metro. Another game played in a monsoon, it was another one of these end-to-end games, but the Nomads’ class showed through in the end and they went on to win 1-0.

The old guy who was rushed to hospital last week was there today, looking much better. However, it was the turn of a woman this time who began to have problems. All the nurses and doctors congregated around her and in the end, my chauffeur was hijacked to rush her over the road to the emergencies.

They had begun to unplug me, but as everyone was finishing at the same time, I was left until almost last. The nurse came to offer her excuses, but I told her that although I don’t mind waiting, I’d be much happier if they left my machine running so that I could take advantage of the extra time.

Eventually, my chauffeur arrived, the young chatty guy. We had someone else to drop off en route so it was a miserable 19:05 when I finally arrived home. My cleaner helped me into the apartment and stuck a disgusting drink into my sweaty little mitt.

After she left, I made a quick tea – just a little potato salad because I wasn’t all that hungry tonight.

So now, having finished my notes, I’m going to try to have an early night for once.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the hôpital de jour … "well, one of us has" – ed … I overheard two of the nurses talking to each other
"I hear that there’s a case of brucellosis just come in" said the one.
"Oh well," said the other. "It’ll make a change from Lucozade."

LIVE: Saturday 19th September 2026 – I HAD TWO …

… phantom alarms during the night And I know that the first one of them was a phantom alarm because I was awake (at least, I think that I was) when it sounded. But it wasn’t the usual RAUCOUS RATTLE OF BILLY COTTON but more like a series of these wind bells ringing down in the bottom corner of the bedroom where the chest of drawers is.

The second one went off when I was asleep, and that WAS Billy Cotton. It went off at about 04:00 or so because, after I’d been tossing and turning around for quite a while, I saw that the time was 04:38.

So an 04:00 awakening this morning, which, considering that I didn’t go to bed until after 00:30 this morning, hasn’t let me have much sleep at all. It’s a good job that I’m in dialysis this afternoon so, if necessary, I can have a good sleep.

At some point much later on, I tucked myself up in the only position that seems to be able to make me go to sleep. It’s quite uncomfortable, and I usually wake up to find that I’m flat on my back again, but during the latter part of the night last night I didn’t move and was still there when the alarm went off.

This morning, it was more of a struggle than most mornings to rise to my feet, but the lure of Emilie the Cute Consultant was sufficient to attract me into the bathroom for a good wash and scrub up, and even a shave.

Back in here, I found that there was nothing on the dictaphone from last night, but when I had woken up earlier, there were a couple of things going on in my head as if I’d been awoken in the middle of a dream before I’d had time to record it. So, for what they are worth, I’ve written down what little I remember of them.

The first part seemed to relate to someone in this apartment looking for a teatowel. However, I awoke and noticed that they were all in here and I was covered in them, so there was definitely something strange going on.

And the second part took place round about now – towards the end of September (in my head I had the feeling that it was the 22nd of September) – here in France, and I was dressed in my winter jacket, gloves and woolly hat as if it were mid-winter, and other people were dressed for winter too.

There doesn’t seem to be anything at all to connect these two little bits with anything that has gone on in real life just recently. The closest connection that I can make is being up in the High Arctic in mid- to late September when I was certainly in winter clothing – as much of it as I could wear.

There were a few other things to do, and then the nurse arrived to interrupt me. He asked about the Hound of the Baskervilles, so I told him what I knew, and then he began to speak to me in German. My German isn’t as good as it ought to be, but I managed to answer him to a certain degree.

After he left, I made my breakfast, and while I was eating, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

We’re still on meteorology, and while I was reading it, I came across this report – "1816 was a very wet, cold season. Wheat out at Christmas, and the head so bad “that it would stick if thrown against a wall.” The season said to be as bad as in 1698."

Strangely enough, that was the only entry for severe weather in 1816, and that surprised me, for in 1815, there was the volcanic eruption of Mount Tambora on the island of Sumbawa, these days part of Indonesia. It is said to be the largest eruption in recorded history and the fallout from the volcanic ash was such that 1816 was said to be “the year without a summer” and “an agricultural disaster” with food shortages, famine and starvation.

Why there aren’t any more entries relating to this period is a total mystery.

Back in here with just two hours to go before I need to make myself ready for dialysis, but I couldn’t think of what to do in that period. It’s not very often that I have a block like that. So on the basis of “if you don’t know what to do, just do something, or anything,” so I wrote chapter ten of my book.

This was going to be the last chapter, but I seem to have let my fingers run away with themselves on the keyboard just recently, so there are at least two chapters still to do, plus the preface and the conclusion. But this has always been a challenge for me – sticking within a word count. You give me a word limit and I’ll go beyond it, sometimes by a country mile too.

When the alarm went off, I took myself off into the kitchen to sort out my midday medication and my disgusting drink. My cleaner duly turned up to sort out my anaesthetic and a couple of other little tasks too, and once she’d left, I had to wait for the taxi.

Not that I was waiting long because it was here at 12:40. We had to go to Champeaux to pick up someone else, and we were at the dialysis centre at 13:30. By 14:10 I was up and running too.

There were no interruptions, apart from the nurses running to deal with the blood pressure alarm every half-hour. Not even a doctor came to see me, so I could watch the football in mostly peace and quiet in my little room.

Yesterday, I mentioned the game between Caernarfon and Cambrian United, so that was my choice. And it was as chaotic as the newsfeed report said it was.

There was Caernarfon’s goalkeeper running the ball out of play, which led to fisticuffs between him and a Cambrian forward that saw both of them sent off. Later on, another Cambrian player was sent off for “denying a goalscoring opportunity”.

Caernarfon’s ten men were far too good for Cambrian’s nine, and it became an embarrassment as the Caernarfon players cut through the Cambrian defence like a hot knife through butter. There were actually nine different goal scorers making up Caernarfon’s total, and if that’s not a record, I don’t know what is.

After it finished, I watched the first half of Hwlffordd v Trefynnon, but once more I ran out of time. I’ll tell you about it when I’ve finished watching it.

When the session was finished, I had to wait a few minutes to be unplugged, and after that, another fifteen minutes for my taxi. But at least, I was the only passenger so I was home by 18:30.

My cleaner was sitting on her mushroom waiting for me, and she helped me into the apartment, sticking a disgusting drink into my sweaty little mitt. After she left, I made some food, just a handful of pasta and vegetables with melted butter.

Back in here, there was yet more football – a Welsh Cup match between Denbigh of the second tier and Trearddur Bay of the third tier. And when you are 1-0 down in the seventy-ninth minute with two players already sent off, as Denbigh were, what would be the betting on a Denbigh win?

It was only then that Denbigh began to play. And how is it possible for Trearddur Bay, with a two-man advantage, to leave a Denbigh player unmarked at the far post? That was one goal back to equalise, and then with two minutes to go, they scored a second.

The game itself was quite agricultural, and even though it’s second tier v third tier, I was expecting far better football than this. But I’ve seen worse on my travels, I suppose.

But I won’t be seeing any more tonight, unless they appear in my dreams, because I’m off to bed. It’s way past my bedtime. But at least (in principle) I can have a lie-in tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about agricultural disasters … "well, one of us has" – ed … an aeroplane crashed in a field and the local search and rescue brigade dashed to the scene.
They noticed two things – firstly that there was a farmer nearby wiping his hands, and the second was that the aeroplane was Air Force One.
"Oh my God! What a disaster!" exclaimed the brigade leader. Then he turns to the farmer and asks "where are the survivors?"
"There weren’t any" replies the farmer. "I just finished burying them"
"Even Donald Trump? Surely he must be alive at least!"
"Well, he told me that he was, but you know what a big liar he is."

LIVE: Thursday 17th September 2026 – IT’S ALL EXTREMELY …

… quiet in here tonight. And that’s because I’m on my own. Round about midday, the Hound of the Baskervilles dragged his master off to the car and the last time that I saw them, they were heading due east somewhere, in the general direction of Munich.

It was really lovely having company. After all, I’m not used to it. and as I said to him … "the friend, not the Hound of the Baskervilles" – ed … it’s open house here, and he and his sidekick are welcome to come here any time they want and can stay as long as they like.

Especially if he continues to make the coffee like that.

And I was ready for a mug of coffee this morning. I was in bed at something like a reasonable time, and although the wind was blowing, it didn’t disturb me that much and I was soon asleep.

However, round about 04:00, there was an enormous gust of wind that awoke me dramatically, and I wasn’t the only one to be awakened because my friend told me later that the Hound of the Baskervilles had awoken him round about that time, so something had obviously scared him … "the Hound of the Baskervilles, not the friend" – ed …

Once I was awake, I found it hard to go back to sleep and I tossed and turned for hours. However, at some point, I must have dozed off because the alarm awoke me.

And for once, I failed to beat the second alarm, dismal failure that I am. I just couldn’t unstick myself from the bed and I don’t know why. Consequently, I was quite a while late starting work this morning.

The first task was to listen to the dictaphone to see where I’d been during the night.

During World War II the Chinese had decided to co-operate with the Allies against Japan, so they had sent radio signalmen on board many of the Allied ships. Those ships flew a white flag with the letter "G" on it. Someone made some remark about the one on his boat, saying that he was wearing some kind of flowing kimono or something like that in luxurious silk. Of course, we were sitting there thinking that he’s not going to last five minutes like that.

Being on board a ship would be nothing to bother me, although I have no idea where the Chinese man in his blue flowing kimono comes into it all.

Then this dream changed to something else. I was with a colleague from work and we were in Czechoslovakia or somewhere, and I was living there, and it was very similar to that one about Poland or Czechoslovakia the other week. We had to go to see someone, so another one of the workers picked me up and drove me all the way to Prague for this meeting. It turned out in effect that there was only going to be two of us, a young person from the other side. We had this meeting in what used to be a railway station, and we were chatting really about not very much at all. Just as the meeting was ending, this guy said that he’d forgotten to give him something. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a hammerhead. He said that that had fallen off someone’s Land Rover the other day. I mentioned a name and asked “it’s not him, is it, because he’s only just bought a new one?” but it wasn’t. Anyway, what happened next? So we made ready to go, and I suddenly remembered that someone had given me an axe head to sharpen, so I was busy sharpening the blade on the axe. The person with me was rather frightened in case I hurt myself, so he held my elbow. That led to an argument because you can’t sharpen anything if someone is holding your arm.

We’ve been spending a lot of time in Czechoslovakia and the Czech Republic just recently. Wishful thinking on my part, obviously. But the name that I mentioned was someone related in part to where I used to work.

Sharpening the axe head is also an interesting situation to contemplate, with someone trying to stop me carrying out my plans, which seem to have been infiltrated. It’s a nuisance, isn’t it?

The nurse came along for his final German lesson, a final big hug of the Hound of the Baskervilles and to sort out my feet and legs. And then another Welsh lesson, big hug, etc., before parting.

The Hound of the Baskervilles dragged his master off on yet another walkie, and I made breakfast and read some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Today’s subject is columnar ice, and that set me off on the trail of William Scoresby. He was one of the earliest of the “ice-masters” who worked the whaling ships in the Davis Strait and places like that in the first quarter of the nineteenth century. He gave a great deal of advice to the Admiralty about his experiences in the Hugh Arctic, especially concerning the ill-fated Franklin Expedition, but it was usually always rejected because he was a “civilian” and “the Admiralty knew best”, even if no Royal Navy sailors had ever set foot in the places where Scoresby had been.

His book, “Journal of a Voyage to the Northern Whale Fishery”, IS AVAILABLE ON LINE and as of this morning, is available in my own little digital book collection to read at a later date. I can see that I shall have to take my laptop with me when I go, in order to read all these books at my leisure. I hope that they have charging points down below where I’m going. Would I need an international adapter?

Back in here, there were a few things that needed finishing off, and then I started to make a couple of plans for things that I need to do over the weekend. However, proceedings were brought to an abrupt halt by the alarm reminding me that I need to prepare for dialysis. When you think about it, it’s bizarre that I have to set an alarm to remind me, but it’s not a case of “I might forget”. It’s just that with having this tendency to fall asleep at strange times and in strange places, I don’t want to be asleep when the taxi comes for me.

In the kitchen, I had my disgusting drink and midday medication, and my cleaner came to put the anaesthetic on my arm. However, as you might expect, she spent more time saying goodbye to the Hound of the Baskervilles, who was on the point of leaving.

After everyone had left, I waited for the taxi – not that I had to wait long because it was here at 12:42. There was already one passenger aboard, and we had to stop at the Aqua-gym at St Pair to pick up our usual Thursday passenger. Consequently, we arrived at dialysis early, not that it did me much good because so did everyone else, and I had to wait until 14:20 before I was up and running.

Once I was finally on my way, I could watch the football. Today, it was Trefelin, near the bottom of the table, against Penybont, third from top. And it was not, as you might expect, another “men against boys” encounter, but Trefelin pushed Penybont all the way and the latter had to work really hard for their 1-0 victory. Trefelin’s defence was excellent, except for that one lapse of concentration that cost them dear.

After that, we had the first half of Llandudno v Caernarfon. Llandudno, another newly promoted side, has adapted well to the level of skill required in the Premier League, and when I ran out of time watching the game, they were down 1-0 but by no means out of the contest and had, in fact, looked the better side.

There had been a few interruptions during my session. For once, the blood pressure alarm sounded only once or twice, but the most important was the doctor, telling me that she’d arranged this Hôpital de Jour thing and I should be expecting to hear from the hospital quite soon about it. And as she was walking away, my telephone rang. It was the hospital telling me that I had to be there on Monday morning at 09:00.

Blimey! Things are moving fast!

Half an hour later, the nurse came to give me the details of the appointment and said that she’d arranged the taxi to pick me up and the one to take me to dialysis afterwards. What a day that will be!

The nurse who was on duty was the one who is … errr … more relaxed about her working methods and, for some reason that I have yet to understand, switched off my machine a good five minutes before the end of the session, despite my protests. Every gram or millilitre that they can squeeze out of me is important.

Not only that, but she didn’t come back to unplug me for ten minutes so she may as well have left it running.

My taxi driver, the same one who brought me, was waiting for me, but we had to go across to the hospital to pick up someone else going to Granville so it was about 18:30 when I arrived home. My faithful cleaner was waiting for me and helped me into my apartment, where she stuck a disgusting drink into my sweaty little mitt.

After she left, I began to think about eating but I couldn’t face cooking anything tonight, so I had some crackers with cheese spread, followed by one of my nice, juicy plums. And it was so juicy that I’d better eat the rest quite quickly.

Once I’d dined, I began to write out my notes, but as usual, the dialysis had been a little too much and I couldn’t stay awake. I ended up posting on-line as far as I’d reached and went to bed. The rest can wait.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the High Arctic… "well, one of us has" – ed … there was a radio programme in Canada once discussing global warming, the retreat of the ice and the migration northwards of the species who live on it.
However, the programme was more concerned with the polar bears who were migrating south into human-inhabited zones hunting for food.
Part of the discussion concerned the odd handful of polar bears who migrated south, and then back north again, then back south etc., as if they couldn’t make up their minds.
"There’s no particular worry about those" said a panellist.
"Why not?" asked the presenter.
"They are what we call the ‘bi-polar bears’"

LIVE: Monday 14th September 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone this morning.

Mind you, that’s not really any surprise, because if you don’t go to sleep, you can’t dream, can you?

Yes, last night was a proper nuit blanche, and it was a shame because, eschewing all luxuries, including food, I’d finished my notes at some kind of respectable time and was in bed fairly early, looking forward to a good night’s sleep.

Instead, I tourné en ronde – “tossed and turned” in my bed for hour after hour, at times in total despair, because I know what “no sleep last night” means for this afternoon at dialysis when I want to watch a football match, or tonight when I come home, or tomorrow morning when my new Welsh class begins – so if there are no notes for tonight when you log in to look, you’ll know why.

However, the time was not totally wasted. I began to plot the next few chapters of my book, and before I’d finished, I’d not only finished this book in my head but written the following two too. So no time is ever wasted.

As well as that, I’m going to claim an “early start” because when the alarm should have gone off at 06:29 (but it didn’t because I’d switched it off), I’d been at my desk working for a good fifteen minutes. It’s a shame that I’m still wheezing and coughing because I would otherwise have got up much earlier and dictated a pile of radio notes. If I’m going to be going to hospital for any length of time, I’ll need to be as up-to-date as possible because dictating in a hospital bed is totally impossible.

Eventually, I heard signs of life in the kitchen as if coffee was being made so I went in to join everyone and had a hot, strong coffee put into my sweaty little mitt. My friend and I chatted for a while, and eventually, Isabelle the Nurse turned up. the Hound of the Baskervilles hardly moved a muscle, but he wagged his tail and let Isabelle stroke him before she attended to me.

Then, before leaving, she made another fuss of him because she’s off tonight on her week off and she won’t see him for a few months.

Once she’d left, the Hound of the Baskervilles had his breakfast and dragged his master off for walkies. I had a good wash and scrub up, and also a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis. Then I went to make my breakfast.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870. Yet again, the Club is managing to steer clear of controversy. Their criticism of another member’s viewpoint is usually expressed in a very good-natured way that doesn’t really cause offence. If I come across a good example, I’ll post it on here for you to see.

When I came back in here, I had the next radio programme to review before I sent it off to be added into the stream for the weekend. I can’t remember what I did after that, but there was still some time to watch a bit of the Colwyn Bay v Connah’s Quay Nomads match from Saturday in the JD Cymru League, played before yet another four-figure crowd, mostly from Colwyn Bay because the Nomads don’t even have their own ground (they share with Y Fflint), never mind any support.

It’s a fact that the crowds that watch two of Wales’s leading clubs (TNS and Connah’s Quay Nomads) have an appallingly low level of attendance at home, whereas even Trefynnon, hopelessly adrift at the foot of the table, have managed a gate of four figures this season.

My friend nipped out for his lunch at the local canteen while I looked after His Nibs. He whined for his master, but he soon stopped when his Auntie Cleaner came to fix my anaesthetic. She made a real fuss of him, which he enjoyed immensely.

When his master returned from dinner, my cleaner sorted my out arm and helped me pack. It was a beautiful afternoon too, so after she left, we all went outside to wait, the Hound of the Baskervilles hiding in the shade under a bush. He didn’t even want to lie in his favourite bus shelter in case any of his girlfriends from the local high school across the car park came past.

So we waited. And waited. And waited. Yes, people, this is when the whole day went off the rails.

Having been used this last few weeks when Mrs Dinosaur was here to be picked up twenty minutes early, today was the day when we all caught up and the taxi was half an hour late. The church clock in the walled town was striking 13:30 when she hove into view. It’s not anything that I ever complain about, though. Being terminally ill, I have a service that drives me to my medical appointments … "of which there are thousands" – ed … anywhere in the country and it’s free. I wouldn’t have service like this in any other country in the World.

So we shot off as if the Fear of God was upon us for … ohhh … all of a mile and a half before we came up behind a tractor with a full load of straw on it travelling at 25 kph if it was lucky.

We followed it for a couple of miles, and all the time, I was thinking “why is she going this way?”.

The tractor turned off eventually, and so my driver put her foot down, to run almost immediately to a road barricade.

"Ohh God, yes! They’ve closed the main road for roadworks!" she exclaimed. Well, I know they have, and it will be closed until at least the 31st of December too, which was why I was puzzled.

We ourselves had to take a quick diversion and in the end drove down the road to Champeaux and cut across to the main Avranches road a little further down. Despite all of the setbacks along the way, this was pretty good going. And as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … since I’ve been travelling with this company, I’m seeing parts of Normandy that I never knew existed.

It was 14:08 when we pulled up at the dialysis clinic – the old non-air-conditioned one – in this stifling heat. All of the nursing auxiliaries had gone off to lunch, so I had to stagger halfway around the building before I found the bed list. I was in bed n°12 today, the farthest single room in the farthest ward away from the front door. They couldn’t make me walk any farther if they tried.

After having to sort myself out on my own as best as I could, the nurses eventually came to plug me in, and it was 14:40 by the time that I was up and running. There wasn’t much to extract today, so I persuaded the nurse to wind it up by 300 grammes to give me a head start on Thursday.

And now, finally, I could now sit back and enjoy a couple of football matches.

At least, so I thought. First of all, the nurses came to do a check on my implant to make sure that it was functioning properly. But this was the day when the machine decided not to function properly, and I had three or four nurses around my bed trying to fix it – not that I was complaining, though.

When it was finally up and running, the test took about fifteen minutes, so there was a good half an hour of my day gone, just like that!

Then the doctor (not Emilie the Cute Consultant, unfortunately) came to see me. They were going to try something at the hôpital de jour – the “day clinic” – a series of drips, to see if it might work. Well, I’m game for trying almost anything, but I know how this will end, because I’ve been through this before, four or five years ago. It didn’t work then, so I bet it won’t work now, but if they think that it might, who am I to argue?

But I’m glad I saw the doctor because when Emilie the Cute Consultant told me on Saturday that my immune system had broken down, it rang a very vague bell in the back of my mind, so over the last day or two I’d been searching through my papers.

And sure enough, there it was. A vaccination card given to me in January 2016 when I’d had my spleen taken out. I remembered them saying that I’d require three vaccinations every five years for the rest of my life, and there were the 2016 injection stamps and the 2021 injection stamps, but nothing for 2026. It looks as if I had forgotten to have the injections in January.

She took the card, looked at it and said that she’d write a prescription, and when I have the injections, bring them down to dialysis and they would do them.

Once she left, I could watch the football, and the first game was Rhydaman v Cearnarfon. It was, unfortunately, men against boys, this match. Rhydaman never ever looked like doing anything at all, and I don’t believe that they put one single sooty foot inside Caernarfon’s penalty area during the entire match.

Some of their players played with guts and spirit, but you need much more than that in a match like this, and a 0-5 result in favour of the Cofis was not an exaggeration.

The next game was the rest of Colwyn Bay v Connah’s Quay Nomads. This turned out to be another candidate for one of the best football matches that I had ever seen and was another credit to the league. Both teams, intent on victory, went at each other right from the start.

They were still at it right at the end too, and the fans certainly had their money’s worth as the Seagulls clawed their way back from 1-0 down to beat the Nomads 2-1, with Jordan Davies scoring one of the best goals that I’d seen for a while too.

There was even time for part of a third match too – Trefelin v Penybont – but I ran out of time and began to pack away my things when the five-minute warning went off on my machine.

At that point, all hell let loose in the main room. One of the elderly patients had fallen into a coma, and all of the nurses in the building, and the doctor, crowded around to try to revive him.

What annoyed me about this, and I don’t want anyone to think that I am heartless at all, was that one of the nurses ran round and switched off everyone’s machines. I’d have been happy for mine to have gone on for another hour and given me an even better start for Thursday.

And it was indeed another hour, and more besides, until they were able to revive this guy and have him transferred across the road to hospital. And then they could sort the rest of us out.

It was my luck, wasn’t it, to have the nurse who goes around apologising for everything, rather like the maid in A ROCKET FULL OF PYE and it becomes overwhelming after five minutes.

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 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

Eventually they let me out to find that my poor chauffeur and another passenger had been sitting there for over an hour waiting for me. And it was still scorching hot out there too. I finally made it home for 19:25, and my comité d’acceuil – my welcoming committee – had long since, as Longfellow expressed it, "folded their tents, like the Arabs, and as silently steal away.". The taxi driver had to help me into the apartment.

My friend had been cooking, and I had a lovely mashed potato and broccoli bake, followed by fruit cocktail and the last of this batch of sorbet. That means that next time, I can attack my vegan ice cream from Noz with gusto, or with anyone else who happens to be around.

When I’d done the washing up, I came back in here to write up my notes, but I managed to do about a dozen or so lines until I fell asleep. When I awoke a little later, I just crawled into bed and that was that. My notes can wait until tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about four-figure crowds at Welsh football … "well, one of us has" – ed … I remember speaking to the FAW’s competitions secretary about the first four-figure crowd – at Cwmbran Town v Inter-Cardiff.

"What was it, exactly?" I asked him.
"Three men and one sheep" he replied.

LIVE: Saturday 12th September 2026 – EVEN AS I …

… type the first few words of the notes for today, it’s 04:01 on a Sunday morning. So whatever is going on?

The answer is that although my health has been bad for quite a while, I’ve hit rock bottom, and it looks like it’s just a matter of time now.

Things were, for once, looking quite good on Saturday morning. It’s true that I’d awoken quite early, but on and off I managed to doze a little until the alarm went off at 06:29.

As usual, it took the usual ten minutes or so to rise to my feet, and then once at my desk, I began to dash off the rest of the notes from yesterday. I’d almost finished too when I could smell the smell of fresh coffee, so I abandoned work for pleasure and went into the dining area.

Whatever the secret is of the coffee that my friend makes, I wish that he’d pass it on to me because it really is delicious, and it’s just the same coffee that I use. But anyway, we sat and drank and chatted for a while until Isabelle the Nurse arrived.

As soon as she rang the doorbell, the Hound of the Baskervilles leapt to the door with his tail going thirteen to the dozen, and we wouldn’t let her in until she’d made a big fuss of him. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … he has far more luck with the women than I ever had.

She was also obliged to give him a belly rub before leaving, and once she’d gone, he dragged his master off on walkies and I made my breakfast.

Still no computer cable, of course, so I couldn’t read my book this morning, so I was soon finished, so I went into the bathroom for a good wash and scrub up, and even a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Back in here, there were things to do, such as to finish off the notes and put them on line, and then, after that, would you believe that I fell asleep?

It was 11:15 when I awoke, and then I set about catching up with a few other things before it was time to prepare for dialysis.

My faithful cleaner arrived to apply my anaesthetic, and, once more, the Hound of the Baskervilles levied his taxe d’entrée and taxe de sortie.

The taxi was a couple of minutes early, and it was also my favourite driver, so I was at Avranches in double-quick time. They gave me my charging cable and stuck me into a separate room, but I had to wait to be plugged in. It was 14:15 when I was actually en route, and I settled down to watch Y Fflint v Cardiff Metropolitan.

These two teams play a very similar style of football, which is exciting, end-to-end play, constant counter-attacking and the like, and this game was no different. I enjoyed it tremendously. The game finished 1-1, and that was also the score in the sendings-off. But as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I just don’t understand how it is that Y Fflint are so low down the table. They are much better than that.

During the dialysis, I was left pretty much alone except for the half-hourly dash to switch off the blood pressure alarm.

However, right at the end, along came Emilie the Cute Consultant bearing gifts. They’ve finally decided to put me back on the heavy antibiotics, so she’s written a prescription.

She also brought me some devastating news. The recent blood test has shown them that my immunity system has finally disappeared, and I now no longer have any protection against any kind of bug that’s floating around. I must now consider myself a priority for the Covid and flu injections.

But worse than that, there are moves afoot that will change my life considerably. There is talk (and it’s only talk right now) that I might be moved to a hospital. No-one knows when, where, for how long or even if. But I have to keep alert “just in case”. They think that I need much more haematology care than I can have around here.

So six months of a hospital diet – I really don’t know if I can cope. And I hope that there won’t be any mice in the hospital as THERE ARE IN THE ONE IN PARIS.

It was my favourite taxi driver who brought me home again, so I was a lucky boy today. My cleaner was waiting for me and then she escorted me into the apartment where a meal of mashed potato and peas was awaiting me – I’d told my friend that I wouldn’t be wanting much this evening.

Once I’d washed up, I came in here to watch Colwyn Bay v Connah’s Quay, but I managed sixteen minutes of it before I was in bed, fully clothed and asleep. And bed is where I’m going right now to sleep, perchance to dream, until Isabelle the Nurse arrives.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about infections … "well, one of us has" – ed … two builders on a building site in Crewe were discussing things connected to their work.
"What’s a cubic foot?" asks one.
"No idea" replied the other "but claim for it anyway."

LIVE: Thursday 10th September 2026 – ANOTHER FINE DAY …

… at dialysis, I don’t think. In actual fact, we were back in the bad old days of everything when I didn’t really feel like anything at all.

It really was quite late last night when I went to bed again, long after midnight. I don’t seem to be able to concentrate on anything right now, not even to stay awake. Once in bed, I was asleep quite quickly, which makes something of a change, and although there was much less than six hours left to sleep, I was still looking forward to a decent sleep for a change, seeing how absolutely whacked I was.

However, it wasn’t to be. Around 04:00 I awoke, and that was effectively that for the rest of the night. However, when the alarm went off, I didn’t know where I was … "so what’s new?" – ed … and I ended up pushing my pillow, the telephone and one of two other things out of the bed. It seems that I was lying transversally in the bed instead of longitudinally. It was only a miracle that I hadn’t fallen out myself.

Once I was sitting on the edge of the bed and dressing, I realised how awful I was feeling. I was freezing cold too, and that’s always a bad sign. But I made it over to the chair at the computer, and the first thing that I did was to listen to the dictaphone to find out. And I was surprised by just how far I had gone, even if it was only around Marcey-les-Grèves.

Last night, I was out with the taxi company with the guy who thinks he owns the show who was driving me. He told me that a couple of days ago that some car had missed the roundabouts at Ponts and had gone hurtling straight through the door of someone who was living there. A couple of drivers of the taxi company had seen it and they were absolutely horrified by the accident because there were at least two or three dead in different places around here. However, the taxi company couldn’t find the time for them to be off and recover. It seemed that one of the young drivers of the company had missed the turn. She’d got round but … fell asleep here …

This is the kind of accident that really is horrific when you see it, especially if the car crashes into a building and brings the wall down. However, I don’t think that the taxi company would refuse sick leave to someone who has witnessed a sight quite like that.

Then later on, I was out with him again, the same guy. We were talking about the road from Ponts up to the ring road. It was taking sometimes two days to come down there. I enquired as to why they wouldn’t go through Marcey-les-Grèves. He explained that that was closed because of the roadworks. So we went to have a look at the closed road and the roadworks, and we saw that nothing had actually taken place … fell asleep here …

Why am I falling asleep so often when I’m dictating my dreams? But the story of roads being closed while there is no work going on is nothing whatever new around here. It happens all the time.

So I was giving my instructions or advice to the driver about which ways to go and when to come, etc. I pointed out a road with a 30 kph speed limit and said that it might be possible to go down there from Marcey-les-Grèves to come out at Ponts without too much trouble. He thought that maybe they would if they could and if they knew about it. I told him that it was his job to make sure that they all knew about it and maybe he should take a run down there himself to make sure that it was all in good condition and possible to go past.

That’s a road down which I’ve been taken on several occasions when we’ve come into Marcey-les-Grèves and found the roundabout at the motorway ring road blocked. And it’s always worked quite well. But as he considers himself to be the boss, he should be the one doing the investigating and reporting.

Did I mention something about the girls who drove for the taxi company? I mentioned too that it was possible for people to be stuck in a rut and not want to enjoy the fruits of the captivity that they had made.

This is a meaningless dream, I suppose, although, just like me, who has had almost all of his pleasures curtailed, I have to make the best of what I have. There’s no point in crying about it.

There was also something about the taxi company having to move their operation at Marcey-les-Grèves because there were plans to extend the ring road. Everyone was dismayed because they thought that the company would have to close down, but I was sure that they would find somewhere else from where to operate. And as it happened, the company announced a few days later that they had taken over the Opel dealership in the town, presumably meaning that the taxis and ambulances would be operating from there.

There actually is a proposal to extend the ring road, but from what I’ve seen, it will pass about 400 yards from the taxi head office. But it’s always a fear, nevertheless, and the idea that the company might take over a car dealership is not necessarily a strange one. They seem to be in “acquisition mode” at the moment.

When I heard movement in the kitchen, I went to investigate, and there was indeed the sight of coffee being made. I dashed off for a ride on the porcelain horse and then went into the dining area for a lovely coffee and chat with my friend.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual, and the Hound of the Baskervilles, who didn’t bark at all, offered her his paw and then allowed her to scratch his belly.

When she found the time, she came over to sort my legs and feet and then spent another five minutes saying goodbye to His Nibs.

That was the cue for both the Hound of the Baskervilles and me to have our breakfasts, although I had to make mine first, of course. The plan was that His Nibs was going to drag his master off for a walk afterwards, so I explained to them not to expect them to find me up when they come back. I’d put a fleece on earlier, but I was still freezing cold, uncomfortable and tired, so I was going back to bed for a bit.

And I did go back to bed too, fully clothed, even down to my slippers.

It was 11:15 when I awoke, so I went and did a few bits and pieces, and at 11:45, went off for a stroll on the parapet. Back in the kitchen later, my friend nipped off to the café at the back for lunch. I sorted out a disgusting drink and the midday medication and began to prepare my ruckack. When Auntie Cleaner came in, she made a fuss of the Hound of the Baskervilles and then began to deal with me. By the time that I was sorted out, my friend was back, and we waited for the taxi, and I made a fool of myself thinking that a sound effect on his ‘phone was the doorbell.

The driver who came to pick me up was the young, chatty girl who likes home-made pizza. We had a good chat all the way to the aqua-gym at St. Pair, and then the usual “Thursday lady” joined in all the way to Avranches.

They dropped me off first, and I went into one of the wards, a little two-bedded one at the back of another, where a new patient was being plugged in. When they weighed me, I was the lightest that I have been for a while after a pause of three days. I don’t know how.

Before they plugged me in, I gave them my “orange bottle” that I remembered to take. They weren’t impressed with the quantity and, to be honest, neither was I. I really do wish that I could have persuaded the Hound of the Baskervilles to make a donation.

After they left me, I put on the football – Hwlffordd v Connah’s Quay Nomads. But I just couldn’t keep going. I fell asleep I don’t know how many times, so at the end of the first half, I switched off the computer and went to sleep.

When I awoke, they unplugged me quite quickly, so I went to look for my chauffeur. He was already there, and I was the only passenger, so I was at home quite quickly too, where my faithful cleaner was sitting on her mushroom waiting for me.

She helped me into the apartment where my friend was waiting, and we had fried potatoes with veg and falafel, followed by fruit cocktail and ice cream. Then I came back in here to write my notes up for tonight.

But I don’t know what’s happened to my taste buds. I know that everything I eat these days tastes of salt, but that meal somehow tasted of pure salt, and that’s what I’m tasting right now. So I’ll take my medication and go to bed and hope for a good night, although the amount of coughing that I’m doing right now will stop anything from happening. It’s probably about the worst that it’s ever been.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about a contribution from the Hound of the Baskervilles … "well, one of us has" – ed … I was just picturing their faces at the laboratory had I done so.
I can imagine Emilie the Cute Consultant giving me the results later.
"Mr Hall, I have some bad news for you."
"Ohh no! What now?"
"As well as all of your other problems, you now seem to have rabies and distemper."

LIVE: Monday 7th September 2026 – AND SO WE’RE …

… back in the good old night-time routine of waking up early and not going back to sleep again.

Over the last three or four weeks, I genuinely believed that I’d left all of that behind and moved onwards and upwards into a much more normal sleeping pattern, but ohhh! Cruel and Wicked Fate has confounded me yet again.

Last night I was in bed by 22:30, thoroughly tired and exhausted, and I was pretty soon asleep. Apart from the odd bit of tossing and turning, I stayed asleep until some unearthly time in the morning where I was wide awake again, and despite how tired I might have been feeling, I didn’t go back to sleep again.

At one point, I was so fed up with it all that I went to look at the time. And just as I was about to switch on the ‘phone, the 06:29 alarm rang.

That was the cue to leave the bed, but in all honesty, it took much more than that to rise to my feet.

Once I was up and about, I slid over onto the chair and began to listen to where I was last night.

We were in the territorial army last night. And as time went on, the territorial army began to produce proper sailors and so on so they became more integrated into the organisation of the terriers, and it was quite common for them to fulfil some kind of role in the organisation. This meant a big shuffle round of the personnel. We suddenly found that people had been removed from their post and that some Territorial who had qualified in that subject was there instead. As captain, I was responsible for making sure that it was usual and acceptable for a girl of 11 like Seren. I had to start by working my way around the different classrooms to see what changes had been made, and then two of our … fell asleep here … so it was all starting to become pretty complicated here.

While this might be an interesting dream, relating to a discussion I’d had with my friend recently, I actually remember nothing whatever of this dream, regardless of any significance. Usually, whenever I begin to transcribe them, there’s usually always a distant memory that comes drifting back, but not with this one.

I was back training that football side again last night, and we were working on receiving free kicks – working on defending against free kicks and winning the ball. We had a practice fence that we brought on whenever we were doing something involved with an arret against the grieving things and then just curling the ball in and spinning into the net over the wall. When my cleaner came past, she said something along the line that we weren’t all that particularly good like back when we began to practise this week. But give them a week and they’ll be brilliant. Then on her way home from working her midday shift, she gave me a packet of biscuits, so I gathered that what she meant was that it was lunchtime, but every time that we defended a kick, we had this big defensive wall made of this fence. We were raising it higher and higher to make it more complicated for the attacker.

This seems to be a recurring dream right at the moment, with me training various football clubs. However, nothing seems to be so bad with some clubs that my training won’t make it worse.

Then I went to continue the notes from yesterday, but the first thing that I noticed was that I was locked out of my own blog site. This captcha will be the death of me at this rate. I simply went into my site’s file manager and disabled everything that I’ve done these last few days. I’ll look at it again later, but in the meantime, I’ll carry on with the blog.

When I was nearly finished, my friend turned up imitating the role that I’ll have to use on my little WordPress flying machine, but I carried on chatting with him, even if it did mean postponing the Hound of the Baskervilles’ breakfast.

So having fallen asleep four times and with my posting degenerating into a load of rubbish… "what’s new?" – ed … as you can see from the above, I’m going to bed and I’ll continue tomorrow. It always seems to be the case that I can fall asleep sitting on my chair at the desk but never at all when I’m lying in bed.

Anyway, tomorrow, we’ll go back to yesterday and carry on. from last night.

So trying to make sense of everything, my friend turned up with a mug of coffee, which was extremely nice of him, but I asked him to put it on the kitchen table, and I’d be in in a sec.

After a quick visit to ride the porcelain horse, I went to join my friend in the kitchen, where we drank coffee and chatted about nothing very much in particular until the arrival of Isabelle the Nurse.

And then an interesting thing happened. The Hound of the Baskervilles, who hadn’t barked at all when she came in, rolled over onto his back and exposed his stomach so that Isabelle the Nurse could give him a good tummy-tickle. It’s amazing that he still remembers her after all these months.

She came over to me afterwards to deal with my legs and feet, and I asked her where my tummy-tickle was, but she told me basically to clear off.

After she left, the Hound of the Baskervilles had his breakfast and I made mine, and while I was eating, I was reading my new book, THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

And for the benefit of some of my readers – it’s “Naturalists”, not “Naturists”. There’s a big difference.

This book will probably have one or two controversies of its own, but at least they will be between members. It’s not a book written from one person’s viewpoint.

There’s a crisis with the medication right now. It seems that one set of pills was missed off the order a couple of weeks ago, and now I’m down to my last handful. I shall have to have a word with my faithful cleaner later.

Back in here, there were the notes to finish, and then there were a few other things to do, such as to review and send off the radio programme for this week. And just when I was standing up to go to prepare myself for dialysis, the alarm went off to remind me that it was time to prepare myself for dialysis.

In the kitchen, I sorted out a disgusting drink and the midday medication and then made myself ready. My cleaner turned up to sort out the anaesthetic, but her first priority was to stroke the belly of the Hound of the Baskervilles. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … he has far more luck with the women than I do.

After she left, I waited here with His Nibs for my taxi while my friend nipped out for a short while. Now that Mrs Dinosaur has left the area, we’re back at the usual situation of the taxi being a few minutes late. But at least it was a Mercedes B-series from the taxi company that the company that I use had recently bought.

We had to go via Sartilly for the old lady there, but nevertheless, we were still five minutes early at Avranches. I had one of the new nurses and she was quite efficient, and I was up and running by 14:15. I noticed that there were two people in my room whom I didn’t recognise. “Holidaymakers”, I was informed.

There wasn’t as much fluid to extract today so, once more, I persuaded her successfully to up the total by 300 grams to give me a head start for Thursday

Once I was organised, I had some football to watch. We started off with the rest of the match between LLansawel and Airbus UK Broughton.

Say what you like, it’s clear that three of the newly promoted clubs, Llandudlo, Cambrian United and the Wingmakers, can compete to some degree at this level, whereas the other three – Rhydaman, Trefelin and Trefynnon – are here as cannon fodder and that’s not a very pleasant place in which to be. Throw Y Fflint in there too, and you have what look like your relegation candidates for the end of the season.

So, retournons à nos moutons as they say around here, the match finished 0-2 to the Wingmakers, and quite right too. From what I saw, they certainly had the better of the play.

After that, there was Cardiff Metro v Cambrian United. The Met pulled away into a 2-0 lead, but Cambian plugged away and came back into the game. The final score was 2-2, and Cambrian hit the woodwork on two occasions towards the end of the game.

Just as the final whistle blew, the nurse came round to unplug me. The time had fitted together nicely. And even better, just as I was about to leave, Emilie the Cute Consultant came to see me. The bad news is that I start a new course of the disgusting potassium powder. Ahh well!

By now, my chauffeur was waiting – a chatty guy whom I hadn’t seen for a while, so I didn’t have to hang around and I would have an interesting ride home.

We were back at a reasonable time and found my cleaner perched on her mushroom waiting for me. She helped me into the apartment and then went off to cuddle the Hound of the Baskervilles. I was clearly a distant second in her priorities.

She sorted out my disgusting drink, sorted out the medication, found my friend’s missing jacket and then wandered off. My friend stuck another bowl of chilli, this time with baked potato, in my mitt and we tucked in. This is real luxury, having a meal plonked into my hands upon my return.

The next plan was to write my notes, but I failed miserably. I fell asleep four times before I’d even written a dozen lines, so I said “sod it” and went to be.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Hound of the Baskervilles … "well, one of us has" – ed … yesterday, he went into La Rafale and ordered a pint of beer for himself.
"Wow! Magnificent" said the barman. "With skills like that, you ought to be in a circus!"
"Why?" asked the Hound of the Baskervilles. "Do they need an electrician?"

Live: Sunday 6th September 2026 – CAFE AU LAIT …

… is nothing like as good as Café Au Lit, Ay? … "and I bet that that went clean over the heads of most of your readers" – ed …

So when I was awoken by my friend bringing in a mug of coffee to my bedside table, I made no complaint at all, even if I had been fast asleep up to that point.

And “fast asleep” was quite right too. I’d collapsed into bed at about 20:30 and was probably asleep before my head touched the pillow. I was only going for a crash-out of about an hour then I’d wake up and carry on with the notes. That was the plan, anyway.

However, when I awoke and checked the time, it was 03:48 – much later than I had intended. Nevertheless, by 04:00 I was attacking my notes.

They were finished and on line round about 05:10, and I went back to bed. This time, though, I changed from my day clothes into my night clothes for the sake of decorum. And once more, I was asleep before my head touched the pillow.

When my friend brought in the coffee, it was about 08:15, and I hadn’t had three mouthfuls out of the mug before my nurse came to deal with me. And the Hound of the Baskervilles too, as well as his German lessons.

After he left, I finished my coffee and eventually made it into the kitchen, having dressed myself first. My friend was just about to be dragged out on walkies duty by the Hound of the Baskervilles, so I made another supply of croissants.

Once the croissants were in the oven, I set about making my porridge and also the juice for my morning medication. And everything was ready at the same time so I grabbed two warm croissants and put them on a plate to have after my porridge.

When the Hound of the Baskervilles dragged my friend back, we chatted for a while … "with the friend, not the Hound of the Baskervilles" – ed … and then I came in here to check the dictaphone to see if there was anything on it.

There was something about my middle sister last night. She was going to go to school in Paris. She was not really the sharpest knife in the box so we were wondering how she was going to cope. My mother seemed to think that she would cope OK with very few problems at all, but I said that I could imagine her getting herself lost on the Paris underground without any problems whatsoever. I didn’t think that anything augured particularly well in this plan to send her there.

This is one of those dreams that’s so unexpected. I’ve no idea why a dream like this would be going around my head. It’s extremely unlikely that she would have gone to Paris because she was not very good on her own in strange places. Not to mention the fact that our family would never ever have had the money to send her there.

But it’s interesting nevertheless that she appears in my dreams because she is the least likely member of my family to do so.

After that, there were two football matches to see.

They were both in Scotland – the first was Forfar Athletic v Stranraer. The Loons have always been Stranraer’s Nemesis but today, the tables were well-and-truly turned as Stranraer deservedly shellacked the Loons 0-3.

The next game wasn’t so interesting. Greenock Morton and Queen’s Park are struggling at the foot of the table so these three points were vital to both clubs.

Morton have recently signed about six loan stars, so I was looking for a vast improvement, but it wasn’t to be. From what I saw, it was a team that hadn’t knitted together yet, and a 2-1 defeat was about right.

There were several other things to do too, and then I made a start on fine-tuning the captcha. And I won’t tell you the saga about that because you’ll be pulling out your hair just as I would be if I had any hair left to pull.

Round about 13:30 we decided to take advantage of the lovely weather by going for a drive and buying a bag of chips at our favourite chippy in Avranches. So all three of us, my friend, the Hound of the Baskervilles and me, piled into the car like three superheroes and set off.

We went via a couple of garages in the area that were selling motorhomes to see what was on offer, but there was nothing that would fit in my friend’s garage so we didn’t pursue our enquiries. From there we went into the centre of Avranches but to our dismay, the chippy was closed.

Instead, we went to the car park by the cathedral. There’s a big public park there that is another one of the favourite places to visit of the Hound of the Baskervilles so he dragged his master off for another walkies. However, he spent most of his time being fascinated by the fish in the fishpond.

We came back a different way today – via La Haye Pesnel and Folligny, where we went to look at the old railway station and marshalling yard there. The yard was important because it was there that loads coming from the docks at Cherbourg would be trans-shipped to a train going to Granville and was heavily bombed by Stukas on 17th June 1940.

When the Germans arrived, they put it back into commission, and it was bombed by the allies in 1944 during the D-Day landings.

Back at home, rather much later than intended and not having had our chips in Avranches, I made a pizza. It’s been quite a long time since I’ve made one of those so, do you know, I’d forgotten how long the cooking time was? Consequently, we had a “rather crisp” base that, rather than a knife, you needed an axe to cut your way through it, and it spoiled somewhat the lovely taste of the topping.

The pudding afterwards was another one of these new soya yoghurts, and they tasted just as good as the previous ones.

There were still plenty of things to do so I came in here to do them, but as usual, there was an enormous wave of fatigue that swept over me when I was only halfway through my notes, so I posted online what I’d already written, took my nighttime medication and crawled into bed. I can always finish my notes off tomorrow morning.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about pizza disasters … "well, one of us has" – ed … I once met a friend who told me that he had burned his pizza while it was in the oven.
"What type of pizza was it?" I asked.
"It was a Hawaiian pizza" he replied
"So next time, put it on aloha temperature."

Monday 31st August 2026 – HERE WE GO …

… another Monday out of the way, kicked into touch, or whatever other phrase you like. And I’m ready for a relaxing day at home tomorrow, that’s for sure, although with my faithful cleaner coming round to do her stuff, “relaxing” is probably the wrong word to use.

Last night, though, wasn’t so much fun. It was about 23:00 when I finally crawled into bed. It took an age to go to sleep, despite how tired I was feeling.

And even then, once I was asleep, it wasn’t for very long. I’ve no idea what time it was when I awoke, because I didn’t check. But I didn’t go back to sleep either, and I spent quite a while tossing and turning in my bed.

When the alarm went off at 06:29, I eventually, after much persuasion, managed to end up sitting on the edge of the bed, and it took me a good ten minutes to force myself upright.

The first task was to unlock the front door so that the nurse could come in later. Then I went into the bathroom to sort myself out and have a good wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant later at dialysis.

Back in here, I had another listen to the dictaphone to listen to what had gone on during the night.

And while there was something on the dictaphone last night, it’s another one of these dreams that the World is not yet ready to hear. It’s basically relating to something that didn’t happen on Friday evening and something that the crowd shouted at one of these football matches

The nurse turned up as usual, and for a change, we had something of an intellectual discussion about the difference in working styles between the USA and Europe.

Interesting as the American system might be, though, it’s positively inhuman. I told him about that crazy American company where Alison and I once worked. I was trying to resolve a problem with an American counterpart in New York one Friday, but it was my time to go home. He said that he’d ring me on Monday to discuss it further. So Monday came and at 13:00 (08:00 in New York) I began to anticipate the ‘phone call. But nothing at all came. When it was almost my home time, I telephoned New York to speak to him.

Instead I had "I’m sorry. His position was made redundant on Friday. He doesn’t work here any more."

After he had left, … "the nurse, not the guy in the office in New York" – ed … I went to make my breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Today, he’s carrying on where he left off and talking about Renaissance archaeology in Germany, we have "And when the old heathenish system was beginning to assume that influence which has been at last happily overthrown ; when Italy, its chosen land, was looked to as the exclusive abode of all art and refinement, and the greatest minds of that country were sedulously devoted to the restoration of classic forms ; what wonder was it that the apostate Teuton, crouching at the feet of fallen Italy, should seize with avidity on the new light, and eagerly substitute the arts of the heathen for the once honoured forms which no longer spoke, as of old, to every national and religious feeling ?"

Considering that we’re discussing the end of the fifteenth and most of the sixteenth century, talking about “heathenish systems”, “the apostate Teuton” and “the arts of the heathen” is not only grossly offensive, it is completely inaccurate too.

Back in here after breakfast, I had the usual things to do, and then I had a nice surprise. Liz rang me up for a chat, and how wonderful it was to hear from her.

It wasn’t quite a Rosemary-esque type of chat but nevertheless, it went on for quite a while. The good news is that towards the end of September, I might be having a visit.

The next task was to begin my search for music for the radio programme I’ll be preparing this week. There’s going to be quite a lot of new music in this one.

That took me up to midday … "with lots of music still to find" – ed … when the alarm went off to remind me to sort myself out for dialysis. I found my disgusting drink and my midday medication, but could I ‘eck as like find my keys?

The last time that I remember them, they were in my hand after I walked away from the door after unlocking it earlier this morning. I usually throw them onto the bed as I’m staggering past on my way to the bathroom but they weren’t there.

Just as I was about to start and retrace my steps, my faithful cleaner turned up, and she found them in an instant. What a brain of a duck your hero has!

After she had applied the anaesthetic to my arm, she wandered off and I sat down at the kitchen table to await the taxi. And just as I was starting to doze off and another footballing dream began to appear, the doorbell rang.

This provoked something of a panic when I awoke. I dropped one of my crutches and had to ferret about for it, and there were all kinds of other confusions too before I finally made it to the front door.

It was one of my favourite taxi drivers, so we had a good chat all the way down to Sartilly where we had to pick up someone else. My driver was telling me all about this guy that she had met on the internet and then just happened to drop into the conversation that in three weeks’ time, she was off to see her daughter in Montréal. And how jealous was I? I told her that if there was any room left in her suitcase, to let me know and I’ll squeeze myself in.

Despite now being back to the usual time now that Mrs Dinosaur has left the area, we were still fairly early arriving at dialysis. And the first issue that I had was that I couldn’t get out of the car. I’ve no idea why but I couldn’t manage it. In the end, I had to resort to all kinds of unorthodox manoeuvres to manage to stand upright.

One of the young nursing auxiliaries accompanied me to my bed, but halfway along the corridor I felt a heavy tap on my shoulder. When I looked round, it was one of the other auxiliaries who, for some reason or other, seems to like to flirt with me. Apparently, she wanted to say “hello”.

Today, I was lucky in that it was one of the young experienced nurses whom I like who was in the section where I was. Friendly and efficient, she had me up and running by 14:15. And she “fixed” the machine so that the alarm wouldn’t ring all the time if my blood pressure dropped.

There wasn’t as much fluid to take out today as there has been in the recent past, mainly because I’ve been careful about what I’ve been drinking, so I asked her if she could increase the extraction so that I would be “ahead” on Thursday. I suggested 300 grams, so she winked and said nothing. After she’d left, I noticed that she wound it up by 400 grams.

Then I could watch some football. The first match was from Friday night’s fixtures. Penybont have made several marquee signings this season in an attempt to put their miserable campaign in the second part of last year behind them, whereas their opponents tonight, Y Fflint, are still struggling in the basement with less experienced players.

However, it was a good match from what I saw. Penybont were, as expected, the more skilful team, whereas Y Fflint were more of heavyweight “sluggers”. Both teams had several chances but when I had to leave the match, just after half-time, Penybont were 1-0 up

The reason I left was because at 15:30, the live matches today started. My choice today was Hwlffordd v Trefelin. These were two bottom-of-the-table teams, with Hwlffordd surprisingly at no points and no goals, with newly promoted Trefelin just above them with one point and one goal.

Having seen how much chaos big burly veteran centre-half Louis Gerrard caused to the Rhydaman defence when Trefelin pushed him up front on Friday night, I was surprised to see him back in defence today. If I had been Trefelin’s manager, I’d have tried again today with him up front to see what he could do.

The game was quite nicely balanced, but I had to abandon it because it was home time, and I’ll watch the rest again at some point.

In between the football matches, I’d had a visitor. Emilie the Cute Consultant came to see me. She asked about the cough, and I told her that there was no change after the useless antibiotics her new colleague had prescribed. I told her that I had told the new doctor that they had been tried twice previously and done nothing, but the new doctor didn’t want to listen to me.

Emilie the Cute Consultant told me that she’d prescribe the powerful ones that work for a bit (although when, though, I don’t know because it wasn’t today) and then ominously added that if they didn’t work this time, because I was unable to cough up phlegm, she would have to prescribe a camera up the nose and down the throat again.

That’s the last thing that I wanted to hear, so after she left, I asked my nurse to bring me one of those sample pots that they have, and I’m going to teach myself to cough up some phlegm, or otherwise find someone else who can.

When the session was over, I had to wait a few minutes to be unplugged, but once she’d finished with me, I could go, so the nursing auxiliary who had tapped me on the back earlier accompanied me to the door.

And by the way, regular readers of this rubbish will recall me talking the other day about the “black line” on the machine’s display panel that refused to go down at one point, so the nurse increased the amount of fluid extraction. I checked today, and it does indeed start to rise again just after we’ve had our mid-session coffee. However, I’ll keep it a secret because if I can get them to increase the extraction every time, so much the better.

On the way to the door, I was weighed. And sure enough, I was below my official dry weight, which suits me fine.

The taxi driver was already waiting for me which was good, and as I was the only passenger on the return, we were soon home. My faithful cleaner was waiting for me as usual, and she helped me into the apartment. Once I was sitting down, she stuffed a disgusting drink into my hands.

After she had left, I grabbed some of those small toasted squares and some spreading vegan cheese and dashed in here. Another football match had started twenty minutes ago, and it was one that I really wanted to see.

Luckily, with the live stream you can either start “now” or “at the beginning”, so I started to watch Colwyn Bay v Llandudno from the kick-off – a real local seaside derby with another one of the biggest ever crowds in the Novira Welsh Premier League.

As you might expect, Colwyn Bay had the better of the game, but newly promoted Llandudno made them work very hard for their victory. The final score, 2-0 to the Seagulls, sent the Seasiders back to Llandudno feeling very disappointed because the score was something of an exaggeration. And had I been refereeing, I would have awarded Llandudno a penalty for handball and disallowed Colwyn Bay’s second goal for a clear foul a minute or so beforehand.

After the match finished, I began to write my notes for the day, but, having had to fight off waves of sleep during the football, I couldn’t keep going. After about half an hour, I was so tired that I couldn’t concentrate. Consequently, I posted on line the notes as far as I had written them and crawled into bed. I can finish them off tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about phlegm and borrowing someone else’s … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of my cousin’s medical examination for joining the army.
He was unable to produce enough urine for an examination, so they sent him home to try again and to come back the next day with the little pot full.
Still unable to “produce”, he had a quiet word with his sister.
When he went back a week later for the results, the doctor looked at him with a great deal of pleasure.
"Well done, well done, well done" said the doctor. "You have made medical history."
"Why is that?" asked my cousin
"You are the first man whom I’ve ever met who has tried to join the army when he’s two months pregnant!"

EPIC HALL

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

Tag Archives: avranches

LIVE: Thursday 8th October 2026 – WE HAVE HAD …

LIVE: Monday 5th October 2026 – I AM REALLY …

LIVE: Saturday 3rd October 2026 – ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS AFTERNOON …

LIVE: Thursday 1st October 2026 – WHAT A TOTAL …

LIVE: Monday 28th September 2026 – IT HAS BEEN …

LIVE: Saturday 26th September 2026 – SOMEONE ELSE HAS …

LIVE: Monday 21st September 2026 – YET ANOTHER CHAOTIC …

LIVE: Saturday 19th September 2026 – I HAD TWO …

LIVE: Thursday 17th September 2026 – IT’S ALL EXTREMELY …

LIVE: Monday 14th September 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

LIVE: Saturday 12th September 2026 – EVEN AS I …

LIVE: Thursday 10th September 2026 – ANOTHER FINE DAY …

LIVE: Monday 7th September 2026 – AND SO WE’RE …

Live: Sunday 6th September 2026 – CAFE AU LAIT …

Monday 31st August 2026 – HERE WE GO …