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Wednesday 5th August 2026 – IT HASN’T BEEN …

… as good a day today as it was yesterday, unfortunately. Mind you, it’s been a better day than many a day that I’ve had just recently, not that that’s particularly difficult, all things considered.

Last night wasn’t any better, though. It was once more after midnight when I finished letting it all hang out and went to bed, looking forward to a nice long sleep.

Or so I thought, but 02:20 wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. But there I was, wide awake. However, from then on, it was me drifting slowly in and out of sleep, not knowing which was sleeping and which was waking. But I was definitely asleep when the alarm went off at 06:29, because I couldn’t remember where I’d put my telephone so that I can switch it off … "it’s on the bedside table in the alcove behind the head of the bed" – ed …

Once I’d remembered where the alarm was, I switched it off, and then we had the usual struggle for me to rise to my feet and go to sort myself out in the bathroom. It’s becoming ridiculous these days, the time it takes me to stand up.

Back in here after a good wash, the first thing was to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

I was back in Wales last night, and I’d signed up for the local football club to go training with them to keep fit. On the first night, I’d brought with me my cousin, who plays for Gresford Athletic in the Second Division. So we were doing this keep-fitting together. One day he happened to mention that he was now without a club, and would this team be likely to want to sign him? They gave him a couple of provisional matches, and I could see from what he was doing that he was probably several divisions above the kind of players who were playing for our club. I replied, therefore, that I’m sure that they would, but they kept on dragging their heels about it and I couldn’t understand why, and I didn’t think that it was particularly clear to this lad who was hoping to have this trial … fell asleep here … I’ve just dropped the dictaphone … so I had a bit of a complain to the people in charge, and they began to make a little more use of him in the football team, but the dream ended suddenly because round about 02:20, I had another one of these dreams, dreaming about the bedroom window being left open all night, and so, as I say, there was this sudden alarm going off that awoke me, except that the alarm didn’t.

The main theme to this dream does make some sense to me. A player who had played in the Premiership and Championship of the English pyramid but who had been sacked due to “issues unrelated to the football field” had been signed by a club in tier two of the Welsh pyramid. He was obviously in a class well above that at which he was playing, but it all ended pear-shaped when he left the field one day in a Black Maria. A player of the same name has just signed for a tier two side, and the club is refusing to tell me if it’s the same player.

The bedroom window was open all night, by the way, but the waking up with the alarm is also something that is happening everywhere these days, and I’m hoping that I’ll manage to avoid having a head-on collision at sea. But whatever made me add that in, I don’t know.

Falling asleep and dropping the dictaphone was a short route to a tragedy, and I wish that I knew how it ended. However, I’m glad that I slipped back into that dream later, even though I didn’t go very far.

Isabelle the Nurse came round as usual. As she was dealing with my feet and legs, she told me to take it easy today. Very little chance of that, I’m afraid. I have plenty to do.

Such as to make my breakfast, as I began to do as soon as she had left. And while I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Once again, as he expounds away at his favourite Gothic period, explaining in minute detail the difference between Early Gothic, Fantasy Gothic and all of that, he’s managing to avoid real controversy. However, I don’t imagine that it will be too long before some creeps in somewhere.

Back in here afterwards, there were a few things to clear up and then I began to work on the notes for the next radio programme – a concert. And that wasn’t as easy as it was supposed to be. I had plenty of information about the group – they are one of my favourites, and they have been around and about on my radio broadcasts since the beginning. However, the venue is pretty much unknown so we were even poring over old maps to find some information.

Eventually, though, I managed to write enough, and so that programme is ready for dictating.

While I was at it, I came across another concert that had taken place a few weeks later at the same venue. I discovered a sound track for it in the big box of cassettes that I have, and although there are a few holes in it, I reckon that I can patch it up enough.

It’ll need some re-editing and some remixing too before it’s fit to be broadcast, but I have about three years to deal with that before the date of its broadcast falls on a Friday.

We had the usual interruptions, such as the break for the disgusting break and the midday medication, and I also crashed out for an hour or so too, which is no surprise given the night that I had had.

When everything was finished, round about 16:30, I went into the kitchen. Included in the order from Leclerc the other day was a broccoli, but so far, I’d done nothing with it. So I took off the flowering heads and blanched them while I diced up the stalks into tiny cubes.

The flowering heads were drained and the water was kept, and then I chopped a potato, a shallot and an onion into tiny cubes. The onions and shallots went into the saucepan first, and I fried them with some olive oil. And then the potatoes, and then the broccoli stalk cubes.

When I was satisfied that it was all mixed together, I poured the broccoli floret water onto the veg mix, added some coriander and a stock cube, and left it to simmer. And while it was simmering, I made the dough for two bread rolls.

Eventually, the veg was ready, so with the whizzer, I whizzed it all up, tipping a pot of plain soya yoghurt into the mix as I did so.

It made just about 1 litre of soup, so I sterilised an 800 gram jar in the microwave and put half a pint in it. That’s now in the fridge for another time.

When it was teatime, I had the other half-litre of broccoli stalk soup with those tiny pasta elbows and my two bread rolls. And it was delicious too, especially when followed by two slices of my home-made fruit bread for pudding.

Now back in here, I’m trying to type out my notes, but I keep on falling asleep. And while some of the notes that I’m typing make perfect sense, they bear no resemblance at all to anything that actually happened, so what’s going on?

In the end, I gave it up as a bad job, and I’ll continue with it tomorrow morning when, hopefully, I’ll be feeling much better and much less tired.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about football … "well, one of us has" – ed … a Catholic, a Québecker and a Mormon were at a football match when suddenly, the Catholic announces "Do you know, with one more child I’d have my own football team!"
"That’s nothing!" retorted the Québecker. "With one more child I’d have my own rugby team"
"That’s nothing!" said the Mormon. "I have seventeen wives, and with one more wife, I’d have my own golf course."

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Tuesday 4th August 2026 – I HAVE HAD …

… a much better day today than any other day in the very recent past. I’m not sure why, though, because it isn’t as if I’ve had any more sleep than usual.

Believe it or not, by the time that I made it into bed last night, it was after midnight. Long after midnight too. I mustn’t ‘arf ‘ave been letting it all hang out last night. But once in bed, I was asleep quite quickly, lying in the position that seems to ease my coughing.

However, round about 03:30, I was awoken yet again by one of these phantom alarm calls that I’ve been having just recently. And once more, it seemed so real that I almost climbed out of bed with it at that point. Although it was fairly cool in here, I was drenched in sweat for some reason. That’s not easily explained.

Once I’d realised that the alarm call was a phantom call and there was no alarm going off anywhere else … "and just who else would have a BILLY COTTON alarm call?" – ed … I tried to go back to sleep, but without much avail at first.

During the period in which I was awake, I checked the time a few times. I saw 05:20, and then the next thing that I remember was 05:50. Then 06:09 and I thought that I’d get up in a few seconds once I’d relaxed, but the alarm going off at 06:29 scuppered that idea.

As usual, it took me a few minutes to summon up the energy and the motivation to go into the bathroom … "but not as much as usual, surprisingly" – ed … but once I’d finished, I came back in here to find out where I’d been during the night.

Seren and I were doing something around the house when Nerina turned up. We decided to show her what we’d been doing, which was to build a game something like Snakes and Ladders where you advance down a street towards the town centre or you are derailed up side streets and sent backwards. We developed some kind of kiddies’ slide to slide the die down to tell us the number, but for some reason, I couldn’t fit underneath the bar so I had to stand and watch. Then, the coin or admission token didn’t work very well and we needed to give it quite a bit of force to make it move, and then the water in the watermill would come over and … fell asleep here …

Surprisingly, this would not be the first dice game that I invented. After Roxanne had been to see the film “Jumanji”, I invented a game called “Jumanji”. Our floor where we lived, throughout all the apartment, was tiled. We chose six of her favourite stuffed toys and numbered them from one to six. We put them at the start line by the French windows in the living room and we then threw a die. If the die came up with, say, a “four”, we’d move stuffed toy number four forward one tile, and so on. The first stuffed toy to reach the window in Roxane’s room was the winner.

Interestingly, the two cats played too. Each would have his or her turn “throwing” (or batting around the room) the die, and when we eventually found it, the number on the upper face would tell us which stuffed toy to move.

It was all totally anarchic.

As for the rest of the dream, it deteriorates into the usual nonsense.

Did I finish that dictation from the previous one about the die? It would slide down a kiddies’ slide thing and tell us the number but we’d made it a bit more complicated than it should be and the first two occasions that we tried it, the die shot off the end and disappeared off up the far end of the kitchen

“We’d made it a bit more complicated than it should be”… "nothing new there, then." – ed …

But it seems that at some point, I stepped back into that first dream and even managed to present us with a different ending.

Isabelle the Nurse came round as usual. I told her about Monday at dialysis and she told me to “take it easy” this morning. Chance would be a fine thing.

After she’d left, I made breakfast and while I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Today, I’ve not really found any controversy in anything that he’s written. But that might be because I was side-tracked quite a few times. There were several occasions where I’d skipped into the situation of the church at Barthomley, Heighley Castle near Keele and the old racecourse at Woore.

And on a few other occasions, I was off with the Black Prince on his chevauchée around Western France during the opening days of the Hundred Years War.

Back in here, there were a few things to do, as usual, and then I made another start on the radio notes. They weren’t easy either because a lot of the artists and albums are new to my programmes so I have to prepare their notes right from the very beginning.

There were several interruptions too, such as the disgusting drink break and the arrival of my faithful cleaner to do her stuff. And while she was at it, she chased me under the shower and I was able to have a good scrub-up and make myself look pretty.

One more, I needed no help to go into the shower and none for helping out either, so I was in the bathroom all on my own. It meant that I could even go into the shower as nature intended.

Once all of the notes were completed … "as indeed they were" – ed … I could make a start on the next radio programme.

This one is going to be a concert so it’s much easier to work. But where editing the sounds and the tracks of the concerts might sometimes be difficult, I managed to do that before I knocked off for tea. So “press on boldly” tomorrow to write the notes.

Tea tonight was a taco roll with rice and veg, and I made a different filling tonight. Apart from the usual tomato, mushrooms, onions and garlic, we had lentils, spinach and bulgur. And it was totally delicious. It made a nice change, and there’s still some left for next week.

So now that everything is finished, I’ll be going to bed ready for a good day’s work tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about mushrooms … "well, one of us has" – ed … A lady wanted to make steak and mushrooms for a dinner she was giving, but when she saw the price of mushrooms, she abandoned the idea.
Her husband told her "go and pick some in the field, from down by the river. I’ve seen all kinds of animals eating them so they must be okay"
She goes down to the river and picks a basketful and hands them to the cook to prepare the meal. When the cook thinks that the meal is ready, she gives some of it to Rover the Dog. Then she dishes up the food to the guests and the host and hostess.
Half an hour later she goes back into the dining room. "I’m afraid Rover the dog is dead, ma’am."
"Ohh God, no!" she exclaims. "Did he have any of that meal we ate?"
"Yes ma’am, he did."
So in a wild panic she calls the emergency services and a fleet of ambulances takes the guests to hospital to have their stomachs pumped.
A couple of hours later, still feeling weak and groggy, they go back to the host and hostess’s house. There, they are met by the cook.
"I was telling you about Rover when you all dashed off like that" she said. "And do you know what? The car that hit him never even stopped."

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Monday 3rd August 2026 – ANOTHER TOUGH DAY …

… at dialysis, but this time, it’s of my own making. There wasn’t as much fluid to extract today, so I told the nurse to wind it up and she ended up taking 300 grams extra. That way I can be ahead for Thursday.

But Sunday night was one of these nights where I reckon that I managed to get ahead for a change. Although it wasn’t early when I ended up in bed … "he fell asleep on the porcelain horse again" – ed …, I did manage once more to go to sleep quite quickly.

However, I did manage to wake myself up with a big coughing fit that lasted for an age. I don’t know at what time that was because I didn’t look, but there was no street light on outside in the car park so it must have been after 02:30.

The coughing fit took hours to subside, which is really bad news, but I was soon asleep, and there I stayed until the alarm went off at 06:29.

It took me a good while to drag myself out of bed and head off to the bathroom, where I had a good wash and a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

Back in here, the first task was to find out where I’d been during the night.

I was living on the farm again in Auvergne, except that it wasn’t the Auvergne but somewhere along the Austrian side of the border with the Czech Republic. I had to catch the bus into the city and the bus stop was on the main road a long way away from where I was living so I had to walk, and it was raining and misty. When I reached the main road, I had to walk a little way along the road to the bus stop, but coming up the hill towards me were two white Volvo 145 estates with Czech number plates. They each had a big, round and white adhesive disc on the windscreen, high up on the driver’s side with a number on it, and a couple of yellow adhesive signs on the window with different numbers on them. And as I looked up on the old road higher up the hill where the village was, there was a third Volvo 145 estate. When I reached the city, I had a few things to do and then I went for a drink in my favourite bar before buying a loaf of bread and catching the bus back home. In the bar, I met a few friends of mine and we were chatting, mainly about these three Volvo estates. There was currently a football tournament going on between Austria, the Czech Republic and a few other countries in Central Europe, and I wondered if it was anything to do with that, but my friends were much more interested in the long walk that I’d had from my place to the bus stop. Suddenly, I noticed the time – it was 18:00, so I had to hurry, and I doubted that I would find any bread in the shops at this time. One of my friends came with me, but we had no luck in the bread shops that we had tried so far. But as we passed a shop window, we noticed a huge hand-made poster in the window with a photograph of a fleet of these white Volvo 145 estates and some writing in Czech that I didn’t understand. At the bottom, in big handwritten red crayon, written in English, was “and we also have an ex-British Postal Services minibus”. This all looked really interesting, but I wish that I knew what the Czech writing said.

It’s been quite a subject of discussion between my friends and me that I regrettably didn’t take full advantage of the opportunities offered by my early retirement and the Treaty of Maastricht. Regular readers will recall that I visited the Czech Republic ON MANY OCCASIONS, sometimes under the Communist regime and as recently as 2020. I would have quite happily settled down in a country as beautiful as this, but I was far too preoccupied with other matters to think clearly at the time.

The story about the Volvo estates is interesting too. I can’t imagine why these would be much of a subject of interest to me, but doing the kind of work that they do – running between Austria and the Czech Republic – I would have loved to find out more about it, even if it meant having to drive an ex-British Postal Services minibus.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up rather earlier than usual, and she had some news for me. It seems that there has been some discussion by the authorities about what to do if the drought and heatwave continue, and someone has mentioned the possibility of cutting off the water for a couple of hours each day. And it’s not “pie in the sky” either because I’ve seen reference to it in the press. Whether it will ever happen is, of course, another matter completely.

After she had dealt with my feet and legs, she cleared off on the rest of her round, and I could make my breakfast. And while I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Today he brings into the conversation the cathedral at Limburg in Germany. "Nowhere is the character of the German Transition better exemplified than in the magnificent Cathedral of Limburg. One could hardly have supposed that a church so visibly belonging to an imperfect style could have been capable of such a sublime effect. But the reason is manifestly to be found in its very slight deviation from the old Romanesque model, upon the type of which it is conceived throughout."

In actual fact, it was a Romanesque cathedral when it was built but seven or eight hundred years ago, much of it was rebuilt in the Gothic style, and the bits that are still Romanesque are the surviving bits of the church when it was originally built.

Back in here, I had a listen to the next radio programme to be broadcast, and, as I was satisfied that it was as it should be, I sent it off to be included in the stream for this weekend.

There were a few other things to do, and then I made a start on writing the notes for the next radio programme. Not that I managed to go very far. I really shall have to become much more motivated than I am.

At midday, I went into the dining area, sorted out a disgusting drink and my midday medication, and then I began to prepare myself to go to dialysis. My cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic but she didn’t stay long, as she had other fish to fry. And it’s just as well that she didn’t because the taxi was twenty minutes early today.

The driver had had to pick up someone at the Centre Normandy who wanted to go to a village near Avranches so the despatching had combined me and the old lady in Sartilly into the same trip. We made good time to Sartilly but the old lady wasn’t ready, so that was that.

We dropped off the other woman at Bacilly and then drove to the dialysis centre. We arrived bang on time, so those twenty minutes in advance were effectively wasted. And when I weighed myself, it was 600 grammes short of the weight for the last couple of sessions so, as I said, I told the nurse to wind it up to put me in advance.

Once I was up and running, I watched another football match from the weekend – Hwlffordd v Airbus UK Broughton. The last time that Airbus were in the Cymru Premier League, they managed two draws and no wins in an entire season. However, they have already improved on that after one match by winning the game 1-0. Hwlffordd had a pretty good season last season and they’ve signed some good players, but Airbus’s squad, mainly the players from their Second Division campaign last season, slugged it out with them toe-to-toe, scoring the goal that won the game with just five minutes to go.

From what I’ve seen, I reckon that Airbus and Llandudno are going to be a handful for some of the other clubs in the Premier Division.

Eventually, I was unfastened from the machine and when I weighed myself, I found that I was below my dry weight, which is good news. I had to wait ten minutes for my taxi, which turned up with another passenger inside, going to La Rochelle-Normande. There’s no doubt that since I’ve been travelling by taxi to my medical appointments, I’m seeing parts of Normandy that I never knew existed.

Back here, my cleaner was waiting for me, and she helped me into the apartment, where she stuck a disgusting drink into my sweaty little mitt.

After she left, I made my tea – a vegan burger with pasta and ratatouille. However, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I might have done, and I don’t know why.

Now that I’ve finished my notes and done a few other things that need doing, I’m off to bed, much later than I intended.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Czech Repubilc … "well, one of us has" – ed … and to be serious for just a moment, regular readers of this rubbish will recall that when I was in the Czech Republic in 2015, I drove past a primary school and in the playground, a lot of the kids were jumping up and down on trampolines.
"Hmmm" I thought to myself. "Bouncing Czechs."

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Friday 31st July 2026 – I HAVE HAD …

… a somewhat better day today, not that you might think so at first glance. However, anything has to be better than yesterday, I suppose.

Last night, I was in bed at something like 22:00, I suppose, not that I looked, and once more, I’m sure that I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. And I managed to stay asleep for a little longer last night. It wasn’t until about 03:00 that I awoke.

Despite everything that I tried to do, I couldn’t manage to go back to sleep and by 05:50 or thereabouts, I’d completely given up all hope. That’s why, when the alarm should have gone off … "which it didn’t because he’d switched it off" – ed … I was sitting at my desk working.

Before that, though, I had to go into the kitchen. I had a thirst that you could photograph so a couple of mouthfuls of water with lemon juice

Back in here, what I should have been doing was transcribing the dictaphone notes from the night, except that there weren’t any, which, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed …is an extreme disappointment to me. But never mind. There were the notes from the previous evening, so I transcribed those instead and integrated them into yesterday’s notes.

There were still a few other things to do, and I was interrupted by the arrival of Isabelle the Nurse, who was early. We had a little chat about what’s going on in the town and then, when she’d finished, she cleared off on her rounds.

That left me free to make my breakfast, and while I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

And he’s still going on … "and on, and on" – ed … about the superiority of the Northern races over the “Mohammedans”. "The Crusaders then imported, not Gothic architecture as a complete style, but certain forms thrown away on their possessions, but which northern genius at once felt itself capable of employing to some better use".

Be that as it may, a few lines later, he adds "The Arabian architecture in Spain does not present so close an approximation to Gothic forms as that of the east ; to go no farther, the round arch is retained in its most sumptuous buildings. The Spaniard then had not the same opportunities for learning Pointed forms in his own country as were possessed by the French or English pilgrim to the east".

Back in here, I had yesterday’s notes to complete and then post online. And once again, that wasn’t easy, due to me collapsing with fatigue on several occasions. It took me much longer than I thought and I was glad in the end to go for my disgusting drink and midday medication.

The next job after that was to look at the football news – I’d forgotten to do that last night. And the first thing that I noticed, apart from the last-minute transfers before the season begins, was that UEFA HAS WITHDRAWN FROM FIFA and won’t participate in any more worldwide competitions.

It’s not the only continental football authority to withdraw either. CONCACAF, the umbrella organisation for North and Central America and the Caribbean, is also making plans to join in.

The issue is over the “sale” of the World Cup competition to commercial marketing companies, one of which is a venture capital company run by Donald Trump’s son-in-law’s brother. UEFA has announced that “the World Cup is not for sale at any price” and in my opinion, quite rightly too.

It’s all about the supporters and the teams, and the disgraceful milking of supporters over the last few weeks in the USA has shown what can happen when greedy profit-mongers lay their hands on everything

The scenario that I have imagined is that Trump has, I imagine, seen how much money the World Cup has brought in and has worked out a way of bringing in even more, with his extended family being one of the main earners in this scheme.

On the other hand, it might just as easily be UEFA’s way of revenge for how the FIFA President overturned a red card decision against the American team when their star player was permitted, despite being sent off in the previous game, to play against Belgium after pressure was put on FIFA by Trump.

Then I turned my attention to the radio programme on which I’d been working.

The other day, I mentioned that I had found all the songs that I need. but that, I’m afraid, wasn’t the case. Because of my inability to count correctly, I found that I was two albums short so I had to scour the World for copies, and I eventually, after much binding in the marsh, was able to find them.

Once I’d managed to secure them, I had to reformat and re-edit them and then extract the songs that I needed. Now, at last, I had all eleven.

They have all now been paired and then segued, and all that remains are the notes to write. That’s going to take a while and it’s almost certain that I shan’t have them finished before Monday.

Things might have gone easier and quicker, but my cleaner popped in to do her stuff as usual, and that knocked me out of my stride for a while as we chatted about all kinds of things.

At teatime, I had sausage, beans and chips again – the beans cooked with cheese and black pepper, and it’s delicious. Probably my most favourite meal of all.

After washing up, I was back in here for the football – LLansawel v. newly-promoted Ammanford. The game was quite good, with Llansawel deservedly winning by 2-1, but this new TV company with whom the FAW has gone into partnership is, in my opinion, a total shambles.

There’s

  • no pre-match introduction
  • no team sheets
  • no match commentary
  • just one inexperienced camera crew who didn’t use their zoom lens until right at the very end
  • only one camera
  • no cameras behind the goals or in other positions on the fields
  • no action replays
  • no subtitles to announce the goalscorers
  • no subtitles to announce the substitutions

    • and probably a dozen other things that were wrong with it too that I’ll remember in due course

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that we often go to Stranraer to watch the football. They are a small fourth-tier club in Scotland with crowds of about five hundred if they are lucky. Yet their match highlights and commentaries are among the best in the World. If Stranraer can do it, then a society such as NOVIRA should be able to out-do Stranraer quite easily.

After the match, I started to write my notes, but with the game finishing at 22:55, tiredness and fatigue beat me to the end, so I posted what I had written to date and I’ll finish it off later tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the World Cup … "well, one of us has" – ed … an English guy who was planning to go to he World Cup to watch Ingerland play was dismayed to find that the third-placed playoff was arranged on the day of his marriage.
Reluctantly, he put an announcement in the local newspaper – "due to a clash of schedules between my marriage and the England game against France, I’m not able to go. Anyone who would like to go in my place, please contact me."
Someone rang him up and asked "where’s it taking place?"
He replied "St Stephen’s church and her name is Sandra"

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Wednesday 29th July 2026 – WHEN THE ALARM …

… went off this morning, I was already sitting at my desk. And I had been since 05:50.

It’s not very often that that happens, especially these days, seeing how tired I am, so it’s nice to see it once in a while

Anyway, last night I was in bed by about 23:00 and settled down for a good sleep. But not for long, though. I’ve no idea what time it was when I awoke because I couldn’t be bothered to look. But the car park light was still on so it must have been before 02:30.

So I lay there for quite a while, tossing and turning, slowly watching the day dawn through the gaps around the edges of the shutters. In the end, I decided that I was never ever going back to sleep so I left the bed. At that point, it was 05:35

Back in here afterwards, it was 05:50 when the computer fired up, and the first thing that I noticed was that there was nothing on the dictaphone. That was really sad, but if you don’t have much sleep, you don’t have much time to travel anywhere.

Never mind. There are always plenty of other things to be doing, and by the time that the alarm went off, I’d dictated the notes for another couple of radio programmes which I downloaded to my computer, ready to add to all of the others that need editing.

But one thing that I am noticing is that there seems to me to be a general lack of interest and co-operation in all of this – a far cry from when we started this radio station seven years ago.

I managed to sort myself out somehow, though, and then I waited for Isabelle the Nurse to turn up.

We had an interesting chat about not very much as she attended to my feet and legs. And then, after she had left, I could make my breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman

We’re still discussing Gothic architecture … "and I’ve a feeling that we still will be in several weeks’ time too" – ed … and he’s still running down the religions and architecture of the Muslims and a few other places besides, as if he doesn’t know of any better.

Later on, back in here, I had a few things to do, and then once they were out of the way, I spent the rest of the day tracing the music that I need for the next radio programme.

It will feature ten artists, this programme, and to my surprise, I didn’t have any music by any of them. Mind you, they are all rather obscure artists who rarely ever made it into the mainstream. Consequently, I had to spend all morning, and some of the afternoon besides, downloading all this music

And downloading it was the least of my problems. Once I’d installed it all on my hard drive, then I had to reformat it all so that it would play on the radio company’s equipment. And that wasn’t the work of five minutes either. It wasn’t until teatime that it was all finished.

Mind you, we did have a few interruptions. There was a pause for a disgusting drink at midday, and then Rosemary telephoned me again for a chat. Just like yesterday, it was a short chat today – a mere fifty-five minutes, that’s all, the same amount of time as yesterday. We are definitely losing our touch these days.

So, when everything was finished as far as I could go, I went to make my tea.

When I was tidying out the freezer the other day, I came across a portion of frozen chick pea curry that looked as if it had been in there for a hundred years. Things can’t stay in there for too long so I decided to polish it off. I was hoping to be able to eat the last slice of vegan pie, but that will have to wait for another time

The curry, with rice and veg, was as delicious as I expected it to be. When I was making these curries, I was at the zenith of my cooking powers. These days, with ill health and all of that, I’m quite out of practice. But now that supplies are running down, I’ll have to go back somehow into my previous days at home on the (kitchen) range when I used to make meals in bulk and freeze them in individual proportions. It’s been months since I last did anything like that.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … office in my bedroom, once I’d finished tea, washed up and had my two slices of delicious fruit bread, I came back in here to do a couple of things and then to write my notes. And it was wonderful, with the heat of the sun streaming straight through the open window onto my comfortable chair. Even with the fan going and the window open, I was roasting.

However, when I was about halfway through, the usual wave of fatigue washed over me and that was that. I posted what I had written to date and then cleared off to bed before I fell asleep again in the chair

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about radio stations … "well, one of us has" – ed … one day, someone phoned up the local radio station during a request show.
He said "I want to let you know that I’ve found a wallet for a guy named Peter Smith. In it, there are two thousand dollars in notes, two of his bank cards, two credit cards, his driving licence and his identity card"
"That’s very kind of you, sir" said the presenter. "We’ll put a call out to him."
"Oh, don’t do that, whatever you do!"
"Why not? What do you want me to do then?"
"All I want you to do is to play a sad song for Peter. Okay,"

0

Tuesday 28th July 2026 – MY CLEANER IS …

… a heroine, I’ll tell you that.

Leclerc’s drive-in didn’t have in stock the vegan cream cheese that I love when I made my order last Friday, and so I asked her if, when she goes to the Leclerc supermarket the next time, she can look out for a couple of packs.

While I was looking for an old, empty pack for her to photograph, I came across a really ancient empty pack of vegan Boursin spreading cheese that I had bought one Christmas a long time ago and thought was wonderful, so, even though it was years ago that I’d bought it and hadn’t seen it in the supermarket since, I asked her to keep an eye out for that too, just in case.

And so, just after 14:00, she came into the apartment to do her stuff, not only carrying two packs of vegan cream cheese, not only carrying two packs of vegan Boursin but also a pack of another type of vegan spreading cheese made by the same company that made the vegan Boursin.

For the next few weeks, on Friday nights as I’m watching the football and eating my savoury biscuits, I shall be regaling myself with the toppings that I’ll be spreading on them.

It’s a pity that I couldn’t regale myself with anything during the night, because it was a long, hard slog. Totally exhausted and falling asleep before I’d even hit the pillow, it was 21:45 when I finally crawled into bed. And how much was I needing that?

However, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s pointless going to bed early, because all it means is that I wake up correspondingly early the following morning. Like 01:23, for example.

That really put the tin hat on just about everything. Having this awful cough come back is one thing – disturbing me and waking me up is another.

So I lay there, coughing my insides out, slowly looking at the day beginning to dawn, and then I must have gone off to sleep because the next thing that I remember was the alarm going off at 06:29.

There have been days when I simply haven’t felt like getting up at all, and this wasn’t far short of one of those. And although I felt dreadful, little by little I began to feel a bit more human. It took me a very long time, though, to make it into the bathroom.

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

We were at the beginning of World War II, and the Germans were invading Belgium. In the absence of any news, they asked me if I would take a patrol of people under cover and survey the battlefield and where all the German troops are. It sounded like a complicated, difficult and almost impossible task. There was a German prisoner at Headquarters so I asked for him to come along too, for no other reason than if there was going to be a disaster, there wouldn’t have been anyone better-suited to share it with us. We had to dress in uniform and then with overalls on top, like we were from a tank or something. Then we were studying maps of what we knew so far. I was in charge of the fire-watching in the cathedral. For me, it was in the crypt underneath, so I wanted to spray the materials and everything like that with water so it wouldn’t catch alight. But one of the things was that they had a rare set of encyclopaedias going back to the end of the eighteenth century and I didn’t want that to become wet or to catch fire, so people were laughing and joking with me about the possible consequences thereof. In the end, we set out on this mission and we arrived eventually at a café that was still in Belgian hands, and everyone there was having a drink or a moan or a chat. I happened to mention to the landlady that we were looking to connect up to the German forces, and we noticed a couple of ears pricking up at one of the tables and the two men sitting there left rather hurriedly

Just recently, I’ve spent a lot of time in various crypts, reading the current breakfast-time book. But I can’t recall fire ever having been an issue with any of them.

The ending of this dream, however, reminds me of the Hobbits in the bar at Bree and the stranger there, as recorded in LORD OF THE RINGS

Apart from that, nothing else seems to ring a bell, although it would be the kind of thing that would make an interesting book.

There had been another one of these parties at someone’s house miles away, and as I was on my travels, I decided that I’d pass by there. However, I was on my old red 50cc moped so it took me quite a while to get there. The people there weren’t really having too much of a good time – it was a very relaxed kind of social gathering – and I didn’t know anyone there. There was just me in my car? Then the hostess came along to collect details of when people were leaving. Most people were leaving on Friday but others would be leaving on the Sunday, so I told her that I’d be leaving on the Sunday evening and she made a note of that. The reason was that the car in which I was, the Land Rover, had been left at Berchtesgarten by someone else who wasn’t there. Anyway, I set off and … fell asleep here …

There have been a few of these “party” dreams just recently. However, unsociable creature that I am, I wouldn’t be going to all that many in real life.

“Then the hostess came along to collect details of when people were leaving” – just as a nurse does at dialysis so that she can ring up the taxi companies. It’s an everyday routine there.

As for Berchtesgarten and the Land Rover, I have no idea how they came to figure in this at all. It’s a shame that I fell asleep just as it was becoming interesting.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual to soothe my fevered brow and to sort out my legs and feet. We chatted about the fire yesterday, La Havaudière and other fires, and then she pushed off.

Once she’d gone, I could read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

We’ve now moved on from the Arabic (with the usual derogatory comments) to discussing his evidently favourite period – the Gothic period. And we’re not even a dozen lines in when we have "the forms that had their root in an age of persecution joyfully surrender their supremacy to those which breathed the spirit of a Church triumphant alike over heathendom without, and secular oppression within. We shall see how they built who bore alike the spear and the crozier in her holy cause ; when ” the praises of GOD were in their mouth and a two-edged sword in their hands."

Bearing a spear and a “two-edged sword in their hands” is hardly a Christian attitude, what with “thou shalt not kill” and all of that. But when we have ministers of the church married two or three or even more times after various divorces, you have to understand that the Christian religion has very little whatever to do with the words of Jesus.

Back in here, I had a few more things to do, and then I wrote out my notes from yesterday. And that took longer than it ought to have done too, due to me drifting in and out of sleep for most of the morning.

After I had finished and everything was on-line, I relaxed in my chair for a while, and the next thing that I remembered was that it was now 13:05. I must have been asleep for an age.

Once I’d recovered my enthusiasm and energy, I went to sort out the bathroom. And when my cleaner arrived, bearing gifts as I mentioned earlier, she chased me under the shower. And actually, now that I can go in and come out of the shower all on my own, today I had my first-ever shower in the altogether. And that was nice too.

After she left, I had a second disgusting drink and then started to track down the music that I need for this next radio programme. And this will be difficult as the search motor that I use is currently offline.

Rosemary rang me for a chat in the middle of it all. Just a mere fifty-five minutes today – we’re obviously losing our touch.

For tea tonight, I lengthened the leftovers from the taco roll stuffing from last week and made another taco roll with rice and veg. And that was really nice too. I seem to be eating much better these days. Mind you, a few weeks ago, I wasn’t eating anything at all.

So right now I’m off to bed, hoping for a better sleep than yesterday.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the lack of Christianity in the church these days … "well, one of us has" – ed … an old man walked into a church wearing tatty, threadbare clothes. The preacher was outraged and told the man "before you come into this church again, have a good talk with God and ask him what attire you should be wearing to come into this church!"
Next week, the old man was back, still in the same threadbare clothes.
"I thought I told you to have a good talk with God about your attire before you came back!"
"I did," he replied "but God said that he didn’t have a clue. He’s never been in this place before."

0

Monday 27th July 2026 – THERE HAS BEEN …

… a big wildfire this afternoon near La Havaudière, between Granville and Avranches. All of the traffic is being diverted and it’s absolute chaos down there right now.

However, for a change, it wasn’t absolute chaos in here. I ended up in bed round about 23:00 and settled down for a good sleep. At some point, though, I awoke. I’ve no idea what time, as I couldn’t be bothered to look. However, there were high winds outside and it sounded as if it might be raining. Not that I cared very much. I just crawled back under the quilt and went back to sleep.

The next time that I awoke, it was light in here so, intrigued, I had a look at the time. 06:15, so I switched off the alarm and slowly staggered to my feet. Yet another early start recorded.

When I eventually made my way into the bathroom, I had the usual good scrub-up, and I remembered to have a shave too, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

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

I was with someone in my house, a girl, and I can’t remember who she was, but she told me that she was having a visitor round later that afternoon. Anyway, before I had the chance to leave, a large Afro-Caribbean-type of man, who came in and simply started to chat. I had a chat with him for a few minutes before I left. Then, just as I was about to go, he said “there’s someone coming up the drive. I think that it’s someone called Lucy”. The girl said “oh yes, that will be the Simpsons.” The door opened and a couple with a little girl came in. It was the little girl’s birthday today so they came into the house and came into the living room. The couple sat down but the little girl went straight over to STRAWBERRY MOOSE and began to tell him about her birthday. Then, her mother gave her a present which said it was from Strawberry Moose. Then everyone, including this man, sat down and had a little game, and that man began to look at the girl’s hair and began to rearrange it a little.

What a strange dream this is. It bears no resemblence to anything that has happened to me in my waking hours. It’s a total mystery to me.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up today as usual and chatted away about nothing as she fixed my legs and feet. Then, after she had cleared off, I could make breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

And he’s off on his high horse again. When talking about the Mosque of Amr ibn al-As, he tells us that "in the minor ornaments we cannot fail to remark the constant tendency to anticipate isolated Gothic features" What he means to say here is “Gothic architecture copied many features of Arabian architecture.”

When discussing the Palace of the Alhambra, he tells us that "No amount of mere enrichment can atone for the violation of the great law which requires every weight to have, in appearance as well as reality, an adequate sustaining mass. Nowhere is this rule less regarded than in the palace of the Moorish Kings of Granada. A slender column supports a capital of far too great projection, this again supports an overlapping stilt or fragment of entablature, and as if this were not enough to destroy all notions of mechanical support, the arch itself in many cases does not spring immediately even from this entablature, but from corbels overlapping again ; i t is thus cut off from all decorative connection with the column below, and appears suspended in the air without any sustaining power at all. Nor is the effect at all improved when, as is sometimes the case, this stilt or entablature is supported by coupled columns ; as their separation, by dividing the apparent support, even adds to the idea of insecurity."
As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … a real architect, being faced with the inconsistencies that Freeman noted, would have immediately gone to investigate the style and found out just why the building hadn’t collapsed.

Freeman’s attitude took me so by surprise that I knocked over my juice glass and the grape juice within it in surprise.

There were also all of the scores from the Welsh football matches over the weekend. Remember the other day when I told you that 53-year-old legend Marc Lloyd Williams had signed for Llanberis? He scored one of their goals in the 8-0 rout of Amlwch Town in the Welsh Cup over the weekend.

Then I came back in here to carry on work. There were several things that needed doing, and then I attacked the notes for the radio programme on which I’d been working.

In a mad fit of enthusiasm that I wish that I could recapture for use every day, I finished them all off and they are now ready for dictation, along with about a hundred others. I really must buckle down somehow and clear this massive backlog. But now that my cough is back … "and in spades, too" – ed … that’s not likely to happen for a while.

At midday, I went into the living room to sort out my disgusting drink and midday medication and to prepare myself for dialysis. My cleaner turned up a couple of minutes later to apply my anaesthetic and to make sure that I was ready to go.

To my great surprise, the taxi turned up for me at 12:40, twenty minutes early. I wish that it would do that every day. There was our usual “other passenger” to pick up at the Old People’s Home in Sartilly but even so, we still pulled up at the dialysis centre at 13:25.

Just like Saturday, I was put into a room with two other people, and there was just one nurse to deal with all of us. Even so, I didn’t have to wait very long and I was up and running by 13:55. How I wish that they could do that every time too. And there was a fair amount to take out today. The machine wasn’t working flat out, for a change, but it was near enough.

Apart from the odd low blood pressure warning which, as usual, brought the nurse running, no-one else came to bother me. If there was a doctor on duty, he or she kept his or her distance. There was the occasional glance of the doctor who thinks that he’s in charge and that he runs the show. He kept his distance too. That meant that I could crack on with work, which is always good news as far as I am concerned.

Even better news was that when I was ready to be unplugged after my session, the nurse was ready and waiting to unplug me. When she had finished with me, I weighed myself and found to my delight that the four-hour session on Saturday had done its trick and even though this was just the usual three-hour session, I was finally down to my recognised dry weigh.

At 17:20, I was ready to leave and as the driver was already waiting, with someone else to drop off in Granville, it was looking as if a 18:00 return was on the cards. However, things all went downhill from there.

At the roundabout on the Avranches side of the village of La Havaudière, the road to Granville was closed, with a couple of policemen directing the traffic down a couple of the small country lanes. In the distance, we could see fire engines and police cars.

The narrow roads were total chaos, with long lines of traffic coming both ways. We had to fight our way along as best as we could, and it wasn’t easy. A lorry coming in the opposite direction would block up the lanes for ages while the drivers of oncoming cars sorted themselves out.

To get back onto the Granville road at Le Croissant, where the road was open again, that was chaos too. A huge line of vehicles was blocked by others on the roundabout coming from Granville and going round and round and round while they were trying to make up their minds which way to go.

By the time that we’d rejoined the road, dropped off this guy and dropped me off, it was 18:20, and that was disappointing.

My faithful cleaner helped me inside the premises and once she had me settled in a chair and armed me with another disgusting drink, she went about her business and I made tea.

Tonight, I had a rice salad with plenty of vegan cheese. It should have been “plenty of vegan ham” but I hadn’t checked the packet for four weeks, and when I looked this evening, I could see that it needed a shave before anything else so it went into the bin.

There were slices of my new fruit bread for pudding, and it really was nice – definitely a success, this, with dates, raisins and cranberries.

Back in here, I checked to see what had been going on down the road, and it turned out that a forty-acre field by the roadside near La Havaudière had caught fire and was busy burning away. We’ve had a few of those now, and perhaps a really good dose of rain is called for before the whole country burns up.

Next task was to write my notes for the day but the effects of dialysis proved to be too much and I was overwhelmed by a great wave of fatigue. I posted what I had written so far and then went to bed. I’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the fire brigade … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the two girls from Crewe who had locked themselves out of their house while they were clubbing.
Luckily, they had left a bedroom window open so they borrowed a neighbour’s ladder to climb up.
As they were halfway up, one of the girls remarked "ohh, doesn’t it make you feel like a fireman!"
The other one replied "don’t be silly. Where are we going to find a fireman at this time of night?"

0

Saturday 25th July 2026 – THE WORST HAS …

… happened at dialysis today. And that is that I was obliged to stay for four hours instead of for the usual three. And it was my own choice too. There were a couple of good reasons for doing so, as you will find out as you read on.

As for me, I was in bed late yet again last night. Probably round about 23:30 or so when I crawled under the covers, and I was soon asleep. Once again though, I didn’t have much sleep, although I’ve no idea what time I awoke – I couldn’t be bothered to check – but it was still pitch-black and the light on the car park had been switched off so it was after 02:30.

Try as I might, I couldn’t go back to sleep. I stayed awake, tossing and turning for ages as the day slowly dawned. at one point, I must have dozed off because I remember waking up with a sudden start. It was 06:25, just a couple of minutes before the alarm. There was no real point in even trying to leave the bed for an early start in that short space of time.

However, it was the second alarm that rang at 06:33. It seems that Brain of Britain had forgotten to switch on the first alarm after switching them both off the other day.

In the bathroom, when I eventually arrived, I had a good scrub-up in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. Unfortunately, I forgot to have a shave, as I found out later. That’s one way of blotting my copybook. Emilie the Cute Consultant won’t be very pleased with me.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I needn’t have bothered, though, because there was nothing on there. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … that’s really quite a disappointment. It’s my only form of enjoyment these days.

The nurse turned up as usual to sort out my legs and feet. We talked about the Tour de France and then about his holidays, because he’s away for three weeks as of tomorrow and I’ll be in the tender hands of Isabelle the Nurse.

After he left, I went to make breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Today, as we probe deeper into the architecture of the Arab world, we come across the statement "Saracenic fancy, moreover, contrary to all just principles of aesthetics, delighted in astonishing the eye with a vast superstructure raised on a support apparently quite inadequate to sustain it. The style is rich, wonderful, calculated to enchant at first sight ; but it is one that will not bear critical investigation ; the chaste gracefulness of the Grecian, the soaring majesty of the Gothic, are absent, and are ill supplied by the exuberance of a fancy, vivid and fertile to the last degree, but uncontrolled by any law of taste or consistency."

Any normal architect, having come across a technique “contrary to all just principles of aesthetics” that is “astonishing the eye with a vast superstructure raised on a support apparently quite inadequate to sustain it” would immediately be interested in giving it a “critical investigation” to find out exactly how they did it and to see if he can reproduce it.

Yes, I’ve long since come to the conclusion that this book is not about architecture at all.

Back in here, I have things to do, and then I made a start on the radio notes. But again, I didn’t do as much as I was hoping. All in all, it wasn’t a very good morning.

When my cleaner came down to sort out my anaesthetic, I was already in the dining area sorting out my things for dialysis. She didn’t take long to sort me out and then I had to wait for the taxi.

It was early today – a good fifteen minutes early, which suited me fine. Apparently there was someone else in Granville going to dialysis, and her appointment was for 13:30, not 14:00 like mine.

It turned out that it was a girl from the dinosaur exhibition that has set up camp in a field on the edge of town. They are here for the month of August, apparently, and then they’ll be off somewhere else.

While my driver was hunting her down, I looked at the number plates of the vehicles. Half of them had “59” number plates, indicating that they came from the département of the Nord. The others had “02A” number plates, meaning that they are registered in Ajaccio, in Corsica.

We arrived at dialysis a minute or two before 13:30, and when I weighed myself, I was horrified at what I saw. This is 800 millilitres or grammes over the maximum of what the machine can do in three hours. This process of sending my home without taking everything out, which they have done for the last three or four sessions, is now reaping some horrible rewards.

The nurse, one of the experienced ones, came to see me quite quickly and by 13:55 I was up and running. However, I did discuss the situation with the nurse and, seeing as I was so early, I suggested having a three-and-a-half-hour session instead of a three-hour one.

She told me that if I did that, I’d have to wait around for half an hour, as they would be very busy at that time. “how about three and a quarter?”

After a good think, I came up with “how about four hours?”, going the whole hog. Do it all in one swell foop and then it’s all over.

So four hours it was.

There was only a relief doctor here today so I didn’t bother her with any of my problems, and after that I was left mainly alone, except for when the low blood pressure alarm rang, but that didn’t bother me. Blood pressure at 8.0 is quite usual for me.

When I was finished, I was seen to with very little delay and at 18:15 I was organising my driver. We had to wait fifteen minutes for Mrs Dinosaur nevertheless, and after dropping her off at her caravan, I was back here at 19:04.

My faithful cleaner helped me inside and gave me a disgusting drink – the second of the day – and after she left, I checked the time. It was 19:30, far too late to think about tea now. I had plenty to do still, so I grabbed a bag of taco chips and came in here to do them.

The football season has started this weekend and, to my surprise, the FAW was broadcasting live one of the evening matches in the qualifying rounds – third-tier Cardiff Airport FC at home to fifth-tier Felinfach – and I wanted to see it to see what this new broadcasting system of theirs is like.

Firstly, there was no commentary, which was disappointing, but apart from that, it was quite an entertaining game. The gulf of class between the teams was evident and Cardiff Airport strolled to a leisurely 4-0 lead at half-time, having had the bulk of possession.

Whatever the Felinfach manager had put in his team’s half-time cuppa, I could do with a drink of it myself. They put up a much better fight in the second half and although Cardiff Airport ended up winning 6-0, they didn’t have the second half all their own way, that’s for sure.

As for the broadcast itself, there was no commentary, no teamsheets, no slow-motion replays and nothing to identify the scorers. I reckon that I’ll only be using this service if SGORIO has nothing to offer at that particular time.

By now, it was 22:40, far too late to start writing my notes, so I decided to do what I had to do and then go to bed. I can write my notes tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about dinosaurs … "well, one of us has" – ed … Mrs Dinosaur was telling us about the exhibits that they have there in their exhibition.
"We have Pteradactyls, Tyrannosauruses, Stegosauruses and Brontosauruses, and we even have a rare example of a sightless dinosaur. "
"What’s he called?"
"D’yerthinkhesaurus."

0

Friday 24th July 2026 – THERE HAS BEEN …

… some astonishing news released today in respect of the Welsh football pyramid. One of the all-time greats is back – and he’s fifty-three!

The news is bound to upset former million-pound striker Lee Trundle, who’s still turning out for Cwmbran Town at fifty and who has been the oldest player in the pyramid for quite some considerable time.

Marc LLoyd Williams was a legendary player in the Welsh Premier League for over two decades, as well as several spells in the English football league with clubs like Stockport County, Halifax Town and York City. He played 467 games in the Welsh Premier League and scored a record 319 goals in that time. In the 2001/2002 season he scored 47 goals, a total that would have won him the European Golden Boot had it not been for Wales’s low coefficient.

He retired at the end of season 2013/2014 and since then has been a TV pundit and coach for some of Wales’s youth teams but the news today is that he has signed for Locomotive Llanberis as a player. All I can say to him is “good luck. Nice to see you back”

That’s a nicer thing that I said to myself when I awoke this morning at … errr … 02:30. It may well be that I’d gone to bed last night at 21:45 or something like that that had caused me to be awake so early, but that’s not what I was thinking at all.

So at 02:30, there I was, trying hard to go back to sleep but with no success whatsoever. I lay here and slowly watched the day begin to dawn. However, at one point I must have gone back to sleep because I suddenly awoke, bolt-upright, at 06:18.

When the alarm went off, I was already sitting on the edge of the bed claiming my early start. But, as usual, summoning up the strength and enthusiasm to go to the bathroom was something else completely.

First off, though, was that I had a thirst that you could photograph, and so I went into the kitchen for a drink of water with a good squeeze of lemon in it.

Once in the bathroom, I sorted myself out and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

Our little travel club had gone to London because one of the girls was living there. We went to see her and have a good chat to make up old times, but she was saying that she had to go to pick up her new car today, and everyone whom she’d asked to drive her there had let her down. I said that there wasn’t very much that we could do because we didn’t have a car, but she went on for quite a while about this. In the end, she said “come on, let’s go” and walked out. There was her car, a white four-door Fiesta. I noticed that one of the doors wasn’t fitting properly so I asked her about it. She said that it’s not been bolted in. It’s just wedged in. She explained that she’d had a problem with one of the doors, and some English guy who ran a car repair place in Belgium had sorted out a door for her for five pounds. So we went into London and ended up where this event was taking place but it was not really good at all. There was nothing much happening, so we decided to leave. For some reason or other, I’d been eating a whole pile of paper, and all of a sudden, I had to spit it out. I just opened the door and spat out all this paper that I’d eaten and another huge load besides. I was sure that everyone thought that I was being ill. Eventually we found a private members’ club and we were able to order drinks there. Then we had to catch a bus right across London to Victoria Station to find our way home. I felt terribly disappointed because I thought that we all might have been asked to stay but we had to leave … fell asleep here … We were lucky because we found four seats on the tram and the tram was packed to the gunwales with everyone on it, people trying to leave through the “in” door by the driver. It was a total mass of confusion. There were two girls for some reason standing in the pathway of a tram on an adjacent line to ours. It was raining and pouring down, so our tram and theirs had their windscreen wipers working. Eventually, we arrived at where we were going, and one of the girls took us all up these side streets, which I probably thought was a short cut to the station but we’d have to see about that. There was a car pulling out of the kerb so I had to walk round it. The one that was behind it pulled out of the kerb and hit me, so we made a really impressive impact on the driver of that vehicle. The guy who had sold one of us that door, he asked if I’d had my van fixed. I replied “no” so he said that he’d be available after August if I wanted him.

There are a lot of things in this dream that mean something. My three friends, for a start. We’ve travelled miles together, one way or another, all over Europe.

The car, too, currently means something, complete with the missing door. And so does moving between Brussels and London

Many other items fit into events in real life, too numerous to explain, so I reckon that this dream is all about me sorting myself out one way or another.

The nurse turned up as usual, and we had a good chat about bikes and responsibilities while he was dealing with my feet. And then he cleared off, and I could push on and make my breakfast.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

We’ve reached the end of the summary, having to wade through page after page of nonsense such as "Much of Europe was still pagan ; during a long portion of this period the Church among many Teutonic nations retained a missionary aspect; and even in Christian countries the Church had not arrived at her full influence. Finally, towards the end of the period the civil and spiritual powers came into open collision, the dispute on investitures roused Europe to its very centre."

There was also "its glorious successor speaks of days when the Church had leavened the world, and, instead of missionaries labouring and dying among Pagan Danes and Saxons, sent forth from those very lands the warriors of the Cross to fight for the holiest spots of their religion.".

It seems that even the church and its ministers, such as Freeman have totally forgotten what is the message of Jesus, Exodus chap. 20 verse 13 and Deuteronomy chap. 5 verse 17.

Right now, we’ve passed on to Arabian architecture. I was expecting all kinds of offensive comments about Arabian architecture from him, and I wasn’t disappointed. We started with "But considered as a real work of architecture, any second-rate production of Grecian, Romanesque, or Gothic art, must rank far above their most splendid monuments. Their splendour is mere barbaric magnificence superadded to fantastic and inconsistent forms, lifeless germs which existed for ages without developing into the features which would seem to be their natural results" and it all went south from there.

Back in here, I had things to do, such as check the Leclerc order that I was about to send off, and then I could finish off the notes from yesterday. Although not without a struggle. You’ve no idea how many times I went to sleep and almost fell off my chair while I was working

Just before midday, I suddenly had this flash of memory – “the washing!” I’d promised my cleaner that I would do the washing today, ready for her to hang out when she comes this afternoon to do her stuff. I usually start it at 10:00 because it takes an age to do, so I hope that it has time to do its cycle.

Round about 13:00 I stopped for a disgusting drink break and the midday medication, and I was caught in flagrante delicto by my faithful cleaner. She set about doing her stuff, and we chatted for a while before I wandered back into here and set about doing some work.

But not for long, though. At 15:25 Leclerc turned up with my load of shopping. And although there wasn’t much, it still took a load of manoeuvre to fit all the frozen food into the freezer and the cool stuff into the fridge. And there was plenty other stuff to put in the cupboards and shelves. It’s becoming quite an art to pack it all away.

Round about 19:30, there was a calamity somewhere. All of the police cars turned up in the car park near us. There were sirens blowing, people shouting, policemen shouting and using the little new loudspeakers and microphones. I’ve still no idea what they are up to, but my cleaner thinks that it’s some kind of demonstration or rehearsal for something

Tea tonight was delicious sausage and chips with baked beans cooked with cheese and black pepper. It’s absolutely wonderful, especially when followed by two slices of my fruit bread.

So now that I’ve finished my notes and checked over everything that I need to do, I’m off to bed before I fall asleep again.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Ten Commandments … "well, one of us has" – ed … Moses came down from Mount Sinai, and all the people gathered round him. “It looked like the Crewe Carnival procession” he said later.
"Come on, Moses" they urged him. "Tell us the news."
"There’s good news and there’s bad news" he replied.
"Tell us the good news, Moses"
"The good news is that I’ve got him down to ten"
"What’s the bad news, Moses?"
"The bad news? Well, he wouldn’t budge on adultery."

0

Thursday 23rd July 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone this morning.

Not that that was too surprising considering that I awoke at 01:30 this morning. Or maybe it was, seeing as I was in bed round about 21:30 last night. Four hours’ sleep is more than I’ve had on some nights.

And I needed it too. After tea, I came back in here to start work again but I’d not been at it for long when a huge wave of tiredness washed over me. I couldn’t keep on going after that so I gave it up and went to bed. But seeing as I’d already written quite a lot of my notes, I posted the “so far” version and I’ll finish it off in the morning.

Once in bed, I fell asleep quite quickly, and there I stayed until 01:30, as I mentioned. And after that, I stayed awake … "not for the want of trying" – ed … watching the dawn slowly come around. When I finally checked the time, it was 06:22, so I quickly slipped my feet on the floor to claim an early start.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … having my feet on the floor is one thing. Being able to stand up and head to the bathroom is something else completely.

Eventually, I made it into there and had a good wash and scrub-up in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. It was only later that I realised that I’d forgotten to have a shave.

Back in here, even though there were no dictaphone notes to transcribe, I had plenty of other things to do, and I was still doing them when the nurse arrived. And today, it was quite a serious discussion. It seems that there is a threat to close down the railway line between Granville and Paris. Years and years of financial cutbacks and lack of maintenance have, according to some people, left the infrastructure beyond repair and there is no hope for it.

As for me, I think that it’s just a ploy by the SNCF to wring more money out of the département in subsidies, but you can never be sure with some people.

After he left, I could make breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Today, he’s summarising what we have learnt so far about Romanesque, Norman and Byzantine architecture, as, presumably, we’re going to be moving on to another main subject shortly.

Even here, though, he cannot let go of his old ideas. "it will appear nothing wonderful that the destroyers of the Roman power might be the improvers of Roman art ….. the pier and arch stood ready for the German or Norman architect to adorn alike with the creations of his own genius, and with such of the spoils of heathendom as might be fitly pressed into the Church’s service."

He goes on (and on, and on) to say "It is only the lifeless skeleton of Romanesque which is of Pagan origin, and the lifeless skeleton of Gothic is equally so ; in both the life, the spirit, the animating genius of the style, is essentially Christian, bringing whatever of heathenism lurks about it into bondage to the faith."

Back in here, I finished off what I had been doing before breakfast and then made a start on writing the notes for the next radio programme. I didn’t get very far, though. Apart from going for a ride on the porcelain horse, I needed a shave as well.

At midday, I went into the kitchen area to sort out my things ready for dialysis, for a disgusting drink and my midday medication, and then my faithful cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic.

After she left, I had to wait for the taxi, which was fifteen minutes late today. As well as that, we also had to go to find a vacancier – a holidaymaker who required dialysis. That took us down a labyrinth of local lanes, but eventually, we worked out that she wasn’t a vacancier at all but a worker at the dinosaur exhibition that has set itself up at the Chateau Bonheur on the edge of town.

One thing that I can say is that since I’ve been travelling with this taxi company, I’m seeing parts of Normandy that I never knew existed.

We were a few minutes late arriving in Avranches but I was quickly ushered to my little room after weighing myself. The nurse, one of my favourites, came round quickly enough to plug me in and by 14:23, I was up and running.

During the session I was left pretty much alone. However, the blood pressure machine kept on ringing its alarm because it was finding part of the measurements too low. However, low blood pressure is quite normal to me and I wasn’t worried, even if they were.

When the session was over, I was attended to immediately by the same nurse who had coupled me up. She was quick and efficient and it didn’t take too long for me to be ready. But I haven’t lost all of the weight that should have gone. For me, the maximum is 950 millilitres per hour, but more than that was needed to reduce me to my dry weight, so the rest will have to be taken on Saturday, assuming that I don’t put on too much in the intervening time.

I was back here by 18:20, having seen my nurse with his bike in the town centre, and my faithful cleaner helped me back inside. Once I was comfortably seated, she gave me the second instalment of disgusting drinks as a “welcome home”.

At 19:00, I went to make tea. Tonight, it was a slice of vegan pie with peas, carrots, mashed potato and gravy. There’s only one slice of pie now left, so I’ll have to try to invent a filling that will go nicely in it. My artificial Intelligence chatbot has, so far, come up with –

  • Mushroom and vegan cheese
  • Hearty vegetable pot pie
  • chickpea and walnut
  • lentil mince “shepherd’s pie”
  • curry style
  • pasty-style root vegetables
  • spinach, leek and vegan cheese
  • onion and potato pasty
  • tomato, olive and courgette
  • leek, potato and vegan cheddar
  • mushroom and herb
  • stout and vegetables
  • lentil and root veg
  • curried chickpea and spinach
  • cannellini bean and tomato herb

If anyone wants the recipe for any of these, let me know. There’s a “contact me” button on the bottom right of your screen.

By the way, back in June, I posted the instructions to make your own chatbot on an artificial intelligence chat site. You can find the instructions HERE

After tea and washing up, I came back in here to write out my notes. And once more, when I was about halfway through, a great wave of fatigue washed over me and I couldn’t carry on. Doubtless the result of a heavy dialysis session earlier. I posted what I had written to date and I’ll finish the rest tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about pies … "well, one of us has" – ed … a woman once walked iinto the kitchen of Leighton Hospital in Crewe and handed one of the nurses a home-made pie.
She said "can you eat this up for me, luv?"
Of course, with hospital food being so disgusting, the nurse was only delighted to do so, and she even shared it with a colleague.
Fifteen minutes later, the woman came back into the kitchen and asked the nurse "is me ‘usband’s pie ‘ot yet?"

0

Wednesday 22nd July 2026 – WHAT A WASTE …

… of a morning that was. How many times is that now that I’ve come back from breakfast and crashed out for a while in my comfy chair? Many more than I would like to admit, that’s for sure.

However, when you don’t go to bed until 23:00 and wake up at 01:30 in the morning, what do you expect?

Yes, it was another late night last night. I tried all that I could try so that I could finish early but nothing at all seemed to work. Once I was in bed, though, I fell asleep quite quickly. But it wasn’t for long. At 01:30 I was awake again. And there I lay, drifting in and out of sleep until I awoke again at about 06:20. No point in leaving the bed at that time, so I waited a few minutes until the alarm went off.

After I’d sorted myself out in the bathroom, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone in order to find out where I’d been during the night.

A couple of us were walking around a few football grounds and we were talking about a few of the matches that we’d seen there. One person was telling us about a match in which he played. We ended up talking about the stadia and the seats, where we’d sit for important games. Then this question came around about designing our own football stadia that would actually fold up and be put away when they aren’t in use, but somehow, that didn’t seem to catch on anywhere so I went home. Just inside the house was a great big parcel addressed to my brother. I asked him if he would be going to move it, but he said that he couldn’t at the moment because it was too heavy. I opened the box and looked at the things inside it, then shouted to him to come and take a look. When he arrived, everything was there in the box. He was annoyed that everything had been opened, but he sat down for the next twenty minutes and began to assemble it. I asked him what it was, and he replied that it was a trolley jack. However, as he put it together, it became one of these space heater-type of machines that you have in garages that throw this … fell asleep here …

Those were the days. I spent several happy days walking around VARIOUS FOOTBALL GROUNDS IN THE UK, mainly by myself, I should say.

As for parcels addressed to my brother, that’s not likely, nor is the fact that I was helping him. It’s no surprise that I fell asleep before I finished.

So that was a space heater and I told him that it wasn’t a trolley jack. He insisted that it was. He then suddenly pointed to another object in there which was, in fact, a trolley jack. Then he agreed that what I was standing by and had just started to unwrap was a space heater. He said that that should keep us all warm if we are working.

So, a while later, I stepped back into the dream again. That’s something that happens every now and again, and it’s bizarre when it does happen.

So once my brother had unlabelled his space heater, everyone in the audience stepped back a fair way. I explained that it wasn’t dangerous at the moment because it hadn’t been charged with fuel. I went to have a look at his guns, including this GAZ 9/9, which is presumably an official Soviet military handgun.

So, a third time now. That’s quite unusual, but the dream is beginning to drift at the end. I’d have loved to hear the end of this.

My brother used to be very interested in guns and other firearms until the Dunblane Massacre put an end to many private gun clubs. However, as far as I’m aware, the Gorki Avto Zavod never made firearms. They just made cars, like the GAZ 21 which I would have in a heartbeat if I could, if it were a Series III model.

I was in my office. I’d been away for a few hours but I’d come back because I was getting ready to go on holiday. When I was tidying the things that had been put on my desk, I found an envelope with seven hundred euros in it and I couldn’t leave that lying around on my desk while I was away so I took it down to the cashiers’ office. I explained what had happened and asked them if they would cash it and give me a receipt for it so that I could put it in this person’s file, then at least the accounting would be correct. She took the envelope, pulled the money out and handed it back, but I noticed that there was still some money left in it. I didn’t say anything until she came back. At the cubicle next to me, a woman arrived with her daughter so another officer came to deal with her. She had her son with her. They chatted and did what they had to do, then the woman turned round to her daughter and said “right, let’s go and find Mr so-and-so.” My ears pricked up at that because I was planning to look for him myself for some reason, and there were two other people who also noticed. As this woman left the building, the three of us independently followed her. She got into her car so I got into mine and those two men got into theirs, but all she did was to reverse across the car park and park the car somewhere else. We waited until she got out of the car and set off on foot, so we followed her.

This dream doesn’t mean very much to me. My dreams about work are usually about being on the point of retirement – should I stay or should I go?

The quest for the missing man is interesting too. I wonder why everyone, including me, is so keen to find him.

The nurse turned up as usual. We had an interesting chat about home renovations while he was dealing with my feet. And after he left, I made breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

We’re still exploring the Norman Romanesque of England and Normandy, but I’ve spent most of my time looking for towns and villages that I don’t know, where there are some interesting historic remains from that period. He’s managed to keep out of controversy so far, but that’s because, once more, I spent more time researching some of the places that he mentioned than I spent reading Freeman’s book.

Back in here, there were things to do, and I duly began to do them, but within fifteen minutes, I was fast asleep in my chair. I vaguely remember waking up at one point, but it wasn’t for long. It was about 11:40 when I finally awoke, and that was definitely a waste of a good morning.

Much of the rest of the day has been all about the radio programme. I now have all of the music that I need. It’s been reformatted where necessary, re-edited, paired and segued, and I’ve even begun to write the notes for it.

One thing, though, and that is that I could have done so much more had it not been for several interruptions, the most important of which was to go to hospital.

It was time for a review of my implant and so an appointment had been made for 14:00 here in Granville. At 13:00, I knocked off work and prepared myself and everything that I needed, and that included photocopying a document to take with me. The taxi turned up at about 13:40, and I was at the hospital in good time.

Unfortunately, the “good time” didn’t last. We got lost in the labyrinth of hospital corridors and when we eventually found our destination, it was 14:02. The doctor was waiting for me and she set to work straight away.

The doctor who does these tests is definitely my favourite doctor. She’s small, thin and a “certain age”. And when she’s looking at my implant with her echograph machine, she’s continually chuntering, saying things like “why have they done this?”, “that’s not correct”, “they should have done it this way” and so on. It puts some animation into what would otherwise be a very boring examination.

The net result was that there was no change in the fistule and the debit since the last examination in January. That means that I’m going to still be stuck on 950 millilitres per hour maximum.

The driver was waiting for me when I came out, so he helped me into the car. I had a fall at one point and he had to help me by dragging me bodily onto the car seat. But once I was safely installed, he drove me home, where my faithful cleaner was waiting. She helped me into the apartment and served up a disgusting drink and the midday medicine. I hadn’t taken it before I went

Once I was on my own, I came back in here to carry on work.

Tea tonight was a vegan burger with pasta and ratatouille, and delicious it was too. Back in here afterwards, I started to write my notes but once more, sleep descended quite rapidly. As I’d written a good proportion, I posted them on line with a little “to be continued” and went to bed. I’ll finish them in the morning.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about doctors … "well, one of us has" – ed … the girls from Crewe went to the doctor’s.
The doctor asked the first one "what’s three times nine."
"three hunndred and seventy-three" she replied.
He turns to the next girl and asks her "what’s three times nine?"
"Friday" she replied
He turns to the third girl and asks her "what’s three times nine?"
"Twenty-seven" she replies.
"Well done you. How did you arrive at the answer?"
"Simple" she said. "I just divided three hundred and seventy-three by Friday."

0

Tuesday 21st July 2026 – THE ALARM DIDN’T

… go off this morning. Mind you, there was a good reason for that. I’d switched it off because a few minutes before it was due, I was sitting on the edge of the bed with my feet on the floor. I wasn’t doing any more than that, but it was enough to claim an “early start”.

Thinking about it, though, it’s not really all that much of an early start. When you go to bed at about 20:30, being up just before 06:29 means something not far short of ten hours in bed.

And 20:30 it was when I went to bed last night. I’d hardly begun the notes from yesterday too but this wave of fatigue that turned up simply overwhelmed me and there was no escape.

When the alarm sounded, I reluctantly threw off the covers and picked up the ‘phone in order to switch off the alarm, only to find that the time actually was only 01:30 and the phone’s alarm wasn’t sounding at all

There have been a few times just recently when I’ve been awoken by a phantom alarm call. Yet it sounds so realistic so I really don’t know what to make of it.

One thing was for certain though, and that was that I couldn’t go back to sleep. I lay there for a few hours silently wishing that I could fall into the arms of Morpheus but with no success. Eventually, though, I managed to slide into that state of flux where I’m half asleep and half awake, although not always at the same time.

When I finally awoke, it was 06:09, so I decided that I’d give myself a couple of minutes and then leave the bed. Unfortunately it was rather more than a couple of minutes, but I still managed to beat the alarm this morning.

After a trip to the bathroom to sort myself out, I came back in here to listen to whatever else was on the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

It was getting close to Christmas Eve and I’d gone somewhere to spend Christmas. There was a whole group of us, including several people whom I knew from the EU. We were having something of a good time but it was getting late so I thought that I’d better start to make tea. I selected a few things here and there and made a start. In the meantime, there was an enormous row in the living room between a couple. The husband shouted out “right, well, I’ll go and make tea then!” He came into the kitchen, saw me cooking and just threw my stuff onto the floor. We had a huge row about that, which, shall we say, was “inconclusive”. I walked out of the kitchen, and I was just so angry that I couldn’t calm down for ten minutes. In the end, I went for a walk around. In the square or centre of one of these arcades where two big roads crossed, there was some kind of entertainment. People were doing magic and such. There was a huge crowd watching them. As I walked around the edge of the crowd, I noticed that one of them was a petite girl in a dark blue raincoat. I went over to her to chat and then I asked her if she would like to come for a walk. We had a good walk around and then she had to go. I went back reluctantly to where we were staying. That guy and his wife had gone but there was still some food left, and one or two of my friends had bought pizzas so we had a little bit of a picnic. But I remembered that girl saying that she’d meet me again at 21:00 somewhere on the south side of this crowd. About 20:30 I walked off. I was hanging around for a while there and then we both spotted each other. She’d changed her clothes so it was confusing. We went for a drive in the car, my old Zephyr 6, and I apologised to her for being dressed like this, telling her that I should have been dressed more regally, which made her laugh. In the end, I drove her home and gave her a kiss. I explained that I was having to go home, which was 500 miles but I’d still like to see her. She replied “why not come to see me on Sunday?” and she mentioned a time.

So where was my family last night? In the past, just as I was always about to Get the Girl, my family would turn up and throw a spanner in the works. But not last night. In fact it all seems to have worked in my favour for once.

The idea of this big group of people is nothing new either. When I first joined the EU, we newcomers were put in a group together. and a bunch of us would go out and do things like ice skating, playing tennis and the like. Gradually, though, we all paired off and I spent a pleasant few months in the company of a Greek girl, which was nice.

The disastrous kitchen scene has no parallel in real life but I can see why it was so upsetting.

The story about “hanging around” refers to an incident involving the Co-op in Denver Avenue, Crewe, something that might become clear to you all in due course, and I did once have a Zephyr 6, one of the big MkIV models.

There’s probably a load more mileage in that dream too.

The nurse turned up today, later than usual, and chatted away about nothing in particular as he dealt with my legs and feet. After he left, I could push on and make breakfast.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

We’re still in Romanesque Norman Northern France and Britain, but today he’s avoiding controversy. That’s partly because I’ve not read much of the book today. He’s mentioned quite a list of obscure examples of this period of construction so I’ve been looking them up and finding out what I can about them.

Back in here afterwards, I started on the notes from yesterday and they are all online now. It was perfectly timed, because it was just about the correct moment for a disgusting drink break and the midday medication.

My faithful cleaner turned up as usual after lunch, and she shooed me into the shower. And today, I climbed in on my own and climbed out too. I’m getting much better at this.

After she left, I made a start on tracking down some music that I need for the next radio programme. There will be some really obscure stuff on there too so it took ages to get as far as I have done today, and there’s still plenty to go.

Tea tonight was a taco roll with rice and veg. and I found to my dismay that the stuffing that I’d taken out of the freezer for the taco roll wasn’t stuffing at all, so I had to make some more. And it really was nice too, lentils, tomatoes, mushrooms, onion and garlic in a spicy tomato sauce.

It was followed by two slices of my fruit bread, which was also very nice.

So right now, I’m off to bed, much later than I wanted it to be, but nothing unusual there.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the shower … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of the two girls from Crewe, one of whom had just climbed into the shower.
"I forgot to ask you – can you bring me the shampoo" she said
"I’ve already put it in there" replied the other
"I know" she replied "but that’s for dry hair. Mine’s soaking wet now."

0

Sunday 19th July 2026 – WHEN I AWOKE …

… this morning, there was bright sunlight outside and the birds were singing, including a dove that lives somewhere around here. So I checked the time – 06:29 exactly. So there’s nothing wrong with my body clock, is there?

Mind you, it wasn’t the first time that I’d awoken. I’d been awake on several occasions previously, usually when it was pitch-black, but I couldn’t be bothered to check the time at those moments.

Anyway, by 07:07 I was sitting at my desk working, having had time to organise myself in the bathroom first.

First job was to reply to a couple of messages that I’d received during the night, and then I could make a start on yesterday’s notes that had been abandoned before they had even begun.

For a change, I actually put my back into it and the notes were almost complete when the nurse came in. He was surprised to find me up and about … "and so were you" – ed … but I explained about the dreadful night that I’d had.

While he was dealing with my feet, he was complaining about the dreadful showing of the French team in the first half against England last night. He reckoned that the players out there, particularly in the first half, had absolutely no interest in playing and it was embarrassing to watch.

On leaving, he told me to take it easy, something that I had every intention of doing. First, though, was to make my breakfast. Porridge, coffee and the last of the two home-made croissants. I must make some more soon.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Well, actually, I wasn’t. He ended up talking about the Papal residency in Avignon, and although Nerina and I visited Avignon in 1991 and danced upon the bridge, I can’t remember much about it, and all my old 35mm photos are down on the farm. Consequently, I spent much of the morning reading about the time the Popes lived in Avignon and looking at pictures of the mediaeval magnificence.

Back in here, I finished off the blog entry for yesterday and it’s now on line. That was followed by listening to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

At something like about 04:40, someone came into the bedroom shouting “Ian Henstone! Ian Henstone!” who I couldn’t see what on earth he was looking at but the vet saw me and said “as you are here and all these … fell asleep here …

As for Ian Henstone, whoever he is when he’s at home … "if he ever is" – ed … I have no idea, but I do know of a Henstone Distillery.

And I’m not surprised that this degenerated into a load of the usual drivel … "you said it" – ed … with me falling asleep in the end.

Nerina and I were talking to some old woman about some cream that Nerina needed for something. It had to be a very special type that was not normally available. This woman said that she knew where she could obtain it so we asked her whether she would mind. She replied that it wouldn’t be a problem at all. A couple of days later, we went back to see how she was getting on but she said that she hadn’t received it yet. Just at that moment, a policeman appeared. He asked this woman for her name, which she gave him. He asked her if she had tried to obtain some cream made of some part of a duck or something from a herbalist somewhere, to which she replied that she had. The policeman replied that it’s not allowed for sale any more and formally charged her with a crime. Both Nerina and this lady pleaded their cases but the copper was adamant. At that point, I had something to do so I had to wander off, but I said to Nerina that when I come back, I’d love to see that charge that he’s given her. She asked why, and I replied that I bet it’s set down as “receiving” instead of “attempting to receive”. I went to do what I had to do, and then coming back down Victoria Street in Crewe, there was an old furniture sales place that had been empty for years but now had a big “Tesco” sticker stuck on the window, and there were people inside clearing up the inside. It looks as if we’re having another one of these local Tescos here. I went back to where Nerina and this old woman were. Nerina showed me the charge, and it was written down as “attempting”, but “attempt” had been written incorrectly. I thought “well, there’s a loophole here that I can exploit,” so I was quite looking forward to representing this woman in Court.

There’s a lot going on in this dream too. There’s more than enough to render the summons invalid. I’d love to prove that in Court.

And then the Tesco’s in the old furniture shop – that would be interesting too and help liven up the town centre, not that it would ever happen. But the need for special cream is something of more relevance to Laurence rather than to Nerina.

After that, there was football. There had been several matches in the Scottish League Cup yesterday, so I searched for the highlights of the St Johnstone v Greenock Morton game. And I rather wish that I hadn’t because, once again, Morton were awful and the 3-0 defeat rather flattered them. In my opinion, they were lucky to get 0.

When the match had finished, I did some reading before going for a disgusting drink break. And then I was working on another project for a few hours, just to keep myself busy.

By then the highlights of the match between Stranraer and Alloa Athletic had been posted on line. And Stranraer did really well, drawing 2-2 away to higher-level opposition.

Later on, it was time to go a-baking. And today, I made some bread. I wanted to try something different instead of the usual sunflower seeds, so I ground up a large handful of almonds and added them in. We’ll see how they react to the bread.

While the bread was baking, I assembled another half-dozen home-made croissants. And when the bread was baked, they went into the oven and now they are ready for starting next weekend.

And I think that I’ve fixed the problem relating to the drawers in the kitchen. I had another one collapse on me this evening, and while I was repairing it, I finally managed to understand why they kept falling apart. This time, therefore, I fixed it properly and little by little, I’ll go round and do the rest.

So having written my notes and generally done what needs doing, I’m off to bed, hoping for a good night’s sleep before dialysis … "and not before time too" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about distilleries … "well, one of us has" – ed … I had a friend once who drowned in a vat of whisky in a distillery.
"That must have been a quick end" said my friend.
"Not at all" I replied. "He got out three times for a bite to eat."

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Saturday 18th July 2026 – WHAT A DREADFUL …

… day this has been today. I really don’t know where to start.

Probably, I should start at the very beginning – a very good place to start. And the beginning was actually last night when I finally managed to crawl into bed. And that was at 23:17, much later than I’d intended. I really don’t know where the time goes in the evening.

Once in bed, I managed to go to sleep quite quickly, and there I stayed until all of … errr … 03:20 when I awoke. That’s about four hours of continuous sleep, and that’s the longest continuous sleep that I’ve had for a while. However, it’s still not long enough.

From then on, I was, as usual, drifting in and out of sleep until the alarm finally went off at 06:29 as usual. And then we had the habitual struggle to rise to my feet, which took much longer than it ought.

After I’d sorted myself out in the bathroom, including having a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out what had happened during the night.

And the short answer was “nothing”. I needn’t have bothered. That was only one of the many disappointments today.

There were plenty of other things that needed doing so I sorted them out until the nurse came. He didn’t have much to say for himself today, so once he’d sorted out my legs and feet, he cleared off quite rapidly and I could make breakfast.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

Today, we’ve finished the Anglo-Saxon architecture, and, having made a whistle-stop tour of early mediaeval Germany, we’re now looking at post-Roman France. This seems to be one of his favourite periods, waxing lyrical about how the Gauls, the Burgundians and the people in the Midi in the Holy Roman Empire managed to improve on what had gone before.

Mind you, he’s managed to avoid controversy so far, quite possibly because I happen to agree with him to a certain degree.

However, breakfast did not pass without incident. Yesterday evening, I’d dropped a glass jar and had shards of glass all over the kitchen. This morning, a bottle of water fell out of the fridge, and I also managed to knock my orange juice all over the kitchen worktop. Still, start as you mean to go on, I suppose.

Back in here, I had a few things to do and then I started work on the next radio programme. However, round about 10:30, I could feel a wave of fatigue coming all over me, and although I tried valiantly to fight it off, I eventually …

ZZZZZZZZ

The next thing that I remember was my faithful cleaner shaking me awake. It was 12:18 and I’d been in a really deep sleep forever. It took me a while to come to my senses, and then I went into the dining area to have my anaesthetic applied.

The sleep hadn’t been wasted, though.

While I was asleep during the morning, I was dreaming about a rock group. It had to cancel half of its performances for some reason or other, especially some in the United States. The discussion went on that anyone who had a ticket for one of the events that was cancelled could use that ticket to go into a concert that they were going to play later at Rochester in New York State, not too far from New York City.

This presumably relates to a famous Beatles tour back in the early days when Ringo Starr was hospitalised with tonsilitis and there was a huge dispute between the other three about whether to cancel the tour or to find a stand-in drummer. Eventually, they found a drummer called Jimmy Nicol who knew the Beatles’ repertoire, and he flew out with them to start the tour until Starr became available again.

The taxi was a couple of minutes late today so he didn’t catch me in flagrante delicto. Today, I was the only passenger so we actually arrived at the dialysis centre early. 13:41 was on my weight ticket.

So 13:41 I was weighed, and no-one was more disappointed than me to find that I had to wait until 14:43 to be connected and up and running. And once more, it was going to be another mammoth session with the machine running practically flat out.

Once I was off, I was left pretty much alone during the session – the blood pressure only dropped once into the “critical” range. I could work pretty much without interruption, except that Stranraer was running a replay of a match that they had played against Alloa Athletic a year ago that I had missed.

When it was time to unplug me, I had to wait fifteen minutes or so for them to start, but at least the driver was waiting to bring me home when I was finally ready.

The roads were much clearer than Saturday last week, so I was home by 18:50, where my cleaner was waiting to help me into the apartment. She settled me down in a chair in the kitchen and passed me a disgusting drink before leaving.

Once she’d gone, I could make tea. A burger on a bap with salad and a baked potato, followed by two slices of fruit bread; It was all delicious and I surprised myself by almost going to cut a third slice of bread. Is my appetite returning?

After I’d finished and done the washing-up, I staggered into the bedroom and sat down at the computer. However, I hadn’t even started my notes before I was hit with an impossible wave of fatigue.

An hour or so later, after I’d awoken, I just rolled over into bed and went to sleep. The notes can wait until tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about dropping things … "well, one of us has" – ed … a drunk man staggered out of a pub to go home when suddenly he dropped his keys.
After half an hour, several other people leaving the pub joined in the search, but no-one had any luck.
Eventually, one of the searchers came over to him and asked "Are you sure that you dropped them around here?"
"Oh no" he replied. "It was over there but it’s too dark to see anything there."

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Friday 17th July 2026 – AFTER THE DISASTER …

… of yesterday, today has been a much more satisfying, and a much more productive day, and for once in a long, long time, I am happy with what I have accomplished.

Not that you might have thought so during the night. What with one thing and another … "and until you make a start, you have no idea just how many other things there are" – ed … it was 23:45 when I finally crawled into bed last night, looking forward to my long, uninterrupted sleep.

And there I stayed, too, until all of 02:03 (I checked). At that point, an enormous coughing fit awoke me (yes, the antibiotics stopped a week ago) and I couldn’t go back to sleep again.

At some point, though, I must have done, but it wasn’t for long and I was awake again, watching the darkness gradually turn into daylight as the sunlight slowly began to creep round the edges of the shutters.

The alarm shattered my reverie, and to my surprise, it didn’t take long for me to have my feet on the floor. Mind you, having my feet on the floor is one thing. Standing upright on them is something else completely.

Once I’d summoned up the enthusiasm and the energy, I went to sort myself out in the bathroom and then came back in here.

I had my CX500 out, so I thought that I’d go to see my friend on the Wirral. I went all the way there, but he wasn’t in. It turned out that he was in the local bar, so I went to look for it and there, I joined him. We were chatting about things and he mentioned that there was some kind of motorcycle rally taking place over the weekend in his area. We carried on chatting for a while and then I asked him if he wanted me to come up on the weekend to go to this rally, but he said “no”. I thought “there’s not much point carrying on this conversation” so I went to begin to go home. But I had no headlight on the motorbike. There was a sidelight but no headlight. First of all, I went down to another pub and had half of bitter. That was absolutely packed and I had trouble trying to find a seat. There was someone in there saying “God, this place is just packed with people drinking” so I shouted out “so what did you expect to find in a pub?” that brought a whole roar of laughter from most of the people in there. When I went to go, I climbed onto the motorbike and made sure that the sidelight at least was working, started up the bike and headed for home. But I was halfway down Electricity Street and Alton Street before I realised that I was going the wrong way, so I turned the motorbike round and headed for home. I stopped off on the way at a friend’s house in Winsford. He found a headlight bulb so I went to try it in the motorbike and it actually worked. I thanked my friend and my father. This other guy was here, he from the Wirral. He said to my dad and his friend “do you want to see two motor scooters?”. They had no interest in that so they said “no”, but it turned out that they were two types from Eastern Europe. One was a Korno but I don’t know what the other one was. Eventually, they went to see them but they were distracted by four kittens that came out of the garage. One of the kittens I knew, but I didn’t know the three others. When he went away to do something, my father, his friend and I just stayed there looking at these kittens.

There’s lots of mileage in this dream.

  • My father and his friend are here again, after making an appearance a couple of days ago. My father, I can understand, but not his friend, about whom I haven’t thought for something like thirty-five years.
  • As for my friend, there is a pub just around the corner from where he used to live. And there is actually a funny story about it, but the World is not yet ready to hear it.
  • He was also extremely moody and his rather abrupt “no” wouldn’t have been any surprise in real life.
  • Why I would be in Alton Street and Electricity Street (in Crewe) when I’m supposed to be on the Wirral, and coming home via Winsford is totally mystifying me.
  • The friend with the lock-up garages (and the kittens) is a different friend completely than the one on the Wirral.
  • In that particular friend’s garages, you might well be likely to find a couple of rare motor scooters from Eastern Europe, but as far as I have been able to find, there was nothing called a “Korno”. However, there is a village of that name in the Czech Republic.

And probably much more besides.

There was also a dream about me having a very tight timetable for the place where I worked. There was talk that I’d be having a few days off from the Wednesday to the following Tuesday to go to see a concert by a German composer, somewhere on the north coast of Scotland on the Saturday night. Nerina would be going with me and so would my brother and his wife. We met in a pub to discuss what I thought was the trip but it turned out that they had no intention whatever of going. They couldn’t recall mentioning it in the past, but I was certain that they did. But I’d warned everyone at work, but obviously we aren’t going now so it doesn’t matter.

Not that I’m likely to be going anywhere with my brother and his wife, a classical music concert wouldn’t be of all that much interest to me.

But the idea of organising everything and having it all fall apart at the last moment is nothing new whatsoever, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall. It’s something that happened frequently in the old days. As for working to a tight schedule, I’m sure that you have seen plenty of evidence of this.

But there was one boy who was fed up with having porridge and things like that for breakfast and was agitating his parents to have sandwiches. I hoped that that didn’t happen because I enjoyed my porridge in the morning.

This is something that I dread happening. Breakfast, with my porridge and toast, is just about the only meal I really enjoy these days and it would be an absolute catastrophe if I were to lose my appetite for it.

And that reminds me – regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I’ve been talking a lot about the loss of my appetite following the chemotherapy sessions that I had. While I was browsing through these pages looking for something in particular, I came across this quote –
"At lunchtime, I had some vegan cheese on my butty and I’m a little disturbed because the taste seems to have changed. It hasn’t – it’s that my taste buds have changed since I’ve had chemotherapy and that’s disturbing me. It’s one of the reasons that I’m off my food right now. I don’t really fancy anything to eat and the idea of eating anything greasy makes me queasy."

That’s a quote from the first time that I had chemotherapy, and in particular the ENTRY FROM 10th APRIL 2016 – over ten years ago. Plus ça change, plus c’est la meme chose.

The nurse was a little later than usual today, and he wittered away about nothing in particular while he dealt with my legs and feet. After he left, I could make breakfast and read some more of A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE by Charles Freeman.

At the moment, he’s having an interesting discussion on the difficulties that people had back in his day almost two hundred years ago, telling the difference between Anglo-Sacon and Norman stonework.

saxon stonework St Mary Magdalene, Geddington, NorthamptonshireIf you ever see them close together these days now that we know so much more, there’s no difficulty in recognising the differences

You can see the difference here in this photograph that I took of St Mary Magdalen Church in Geddington. The Anglo-Saxon stonework is on the left and straight ahead over the arch. Then round to the right, where it all becomes so much neater, that’s the Norman stonework. The Normans had much more experience of stonework than did the Anglo-Saxons, what with everything that they built in Normandy prior to the Battle of Hastings.

Back in here, I had the usual few things to do, and then I attacked the notes for this concert on which I’d been working. They are now all written and ready for typing.

After that, there was one that I started a week or two back, and that’s now all done too and ready for broadcasting, although that won’t be for a while just yet.

There were the odd interruptions while I was doing that. First of all, there was a disgusting drink break with the lunchtime medication, and then my faithful cleaner turned up to do her stuff.

While she was here, I had her take two of the drawers out of the freezer, and I sat on the chair and went through them, sorting them out. Some stuff was binned but the rest is now organised and I know what I’ve got and where it is. And doesn’t that make a change?

Back in here and after the radio stuff was finished, I began to tidy up the mass of papers that was hanging around in here. That’s mostly now done too. As I said, it’s been a very productive day.

However, I didn’t ‘arf have a fright. While I was looking at something out of the window, a big bird, probably a seagull, flew slap-bang head-first right into it. The noise was astonishing and I thought that the window had broken, but it remained intact.

I told my cleaner about it, and she went outside to look but there was no evidence of anything.

bird strike window u z leuven pellenberg belgiumNot like the owl that flew into the window of a place where I was staying in Leuven.

The poor bird – an owl by the looks of things – quite clearly left his mark on the glass there, and I don’t think that he could have survived a collision like that. But on my window, there’s not a trace.

Later on, it was time for tea. Chips, sausage and baked beans – the beans cooked with freshly ground black pepper and vegan cheese. Delicious as always.

And for pudding, I had some of the fruit bread that I made a few days ago. It’s a little dry, but the taste is magnificent and I’m really happy with that.

So now it’s bedtime, ready for dialysis tomorrow … "I don’t think" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about appetites … "well, one of us has" – ed … a young guy takes a young girl out for a meal. To his surprise, she orders almost everything on the menu. And then she gulps it down.
"Blimey!" said the boy. "Do you eat like this at home?"
"No" she replies. "No-one wants to sleep with me there."

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