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LIVE: Monday 12th October 2026 – MY COTTAGE PIE …

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… is delicious, even if it isn’t made with real cottages. That was an excellent recipe that my chatbot found for me, and if he knows any others as good as this one, I shall pick his brains again.

However, no matter how nice it was, I hope that it makes me sleep better than last night. I ended up in bed much later than I had intended, and although I was asleep quite quickly, it wasn’t for long enough. I awoke quite early on – I’ve no idea of the time because I didn’t look – and after that, despite everything that I tried, I couldn’t go back to sleep again.

When the alarm went off at 06:29, I was still awake, but even so, it still took me a good few minutes to leave the bed and stand up.

The first port of call was at the front door to unlock it ready for when Isabelle the Nurse arrives, and after that, I went into the bathroom to sort myself out and to have a good scrub up. And even a shave too, in case Emilie the Cute Consultant comes to see me at dialysis this afternoon.

Back in here, I checked the dictaphone to see what was on there, but there was nothing much, so I found a few other things to do until Isabelle the Nurse breezed in.

Today, we talked about my cottage pie, or Hachis Parmontier as they say around here, and a few other things too before she parted off on her week’s break, where planning the installation of her Halloween decorations seems to be Priority Number One.

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

The commissioner is talking today about the Bower Oak close to Croft Ambrey. He tells us that "It should be called ”The Lovers’ Oak,” from the romantic scenes that have occurred there. Few trees have left more indelible impressions on young memories."

It beats me how he knows about “the romantic scenes that have occurred there”. Surely he hasn’t been spying on what goes on there in a dirty raincoat and binoculars? Perish the thought, hey?

After I’d finished my breakfast, I came in here to carry on working for a while.

The first task was to review the radio programme that will be broadcast this weekend and make sure that it’s good. And it is, too. There are one or two new groups and musicians featuring in it this week to give it an air of something different.

And that reminds me. If you don’t know how to listen to my programme, it’s broadcast HERE ON FRIDAYS AND SATURDAYS at 21:00 CET (20:00 UK Time and 15:00 in Montréal and Toronto). And if you miss the broadcasts, there are PODCASTS HERE

After the radio, it was the Welsh homework. We had to write an essay about the plans of a new supermarket to be built in a small rural town, write about the background, the arguments for, the arguments against and what we think. And as usual, whenever I have to write an essay, I fall foul of the word count before I’ve really got going. That has been my bane ever since primary school and, let’s be honest, I’m not likely to change now at my age.

This all took me up to midday when it was time to drop everything and head into the kitchen for my disgusting drink and my midday medication, after which I began to prepare for going to dialysis. My faithful cleaner turned up too, to apply the anaesthetic to my arm, not that it does much good really.

After she’d left to go and have her butties before going back out to work, I took the cottage pie out of the oven … "something that our hero had forgotten to do this morning" – ed … covered it with clingfilm and made some space for it in the fridge. It smelt just as nice and delicious as it did while it was cooking.

Yes, tonight I’ll give it a try and see what it’s like, but I’m going to have to work out a way of freezing some of it because there’s far too much to eat in one or two meals. You can’t just slop it into a plastic bag like you can do with a curry or a chilli. Answers on a postcard to …

While I was waiting for the taxi, I adopted the usual position of folding up over the table with my head resting on my arms, but I was rudely interrupted by the doorbell announcing the arrival of the taxi, ten minutes early. And it was “rudely” too. It took me a minute or two to work out where I was and what was going on.

Once I was in the taxi, we had to go to Sartilly for someone else. With the road closed at La Havaudière, we usually go down the road between St. Pair sur Mer and Champeaux, and turn off at Lezeaux Le Carrière to rejoin the main road. However, this driver took me along the coast as far as Carolles and then cut across country to Sartilly. It’s a much nicer road than the Champeaux road, that’s for sure, but it’s a much longer way around, and as a result, I was late for dialysis.

Arriving after 14:00 is one thing, but my nurse, the new young girl with the pet rabbit, was already waiting. There was a lot of preparatory work to do at first, but I was up and running by 14:30, and there are times when it’s been later than that when I’ve arrived early.

And bizarrely, the first puncture hurt a little, but the second didn’t hurt at all, and that’s the one that usually causes all the problems.

Once I was up and running, I had a footfest again. I watched the rest of the Hwlffordd v Caernarfon game, spending most of the time wondering what had happened to the technical skills of both teams as they slugged it out in a midfield maul.

However, I do know why Hwlffordd are stuck low down the table even if they have one of the meanest defences in the league. Whereas TNS have scored 44 goals, Caernarfon 37 and even Trefynnon, propping up the table by a mile, have scored 12, Hwlffordd have scored just 8 and that is simply not good enough.

Mind you, they added one goal to the total at the weekend against Caernarfon, but Caernarfon scored two and that was that, although the penalty awarded for the first goal was … errr … rather dubious, even though it was verified on VAR.

Afterwards, we had Penybont v Y Barri down at Bridgend in front of a big four-figure crowd, the sixth biggest of the season. However, I didn’t finish it all, and so you’ll have to wait for Thursday night for a report on that.

But it’s really strange. Five, ten, fifteen and more years ago, the league was struggling to have one four-figure crowd per season. These days, it’s having at least one four-figure crowd per week somewhere – usually at Caernarfon, Colwyn Bay and Penybont – and it’s rumoured that Connah’s Quay Nomads are pushing the boat out to drag in a four-figure crowd for the local derby at Y Fflint shortly.

And Bangor City in the second division have had two crowds of over four figures, and there was a third at Holyhead when Bangor were the visitors. Things are definitely looking up.

My foot fest was interrupted by the arrival of a doctor – not, unfortunately, Emilie the Cute Consultant. He asked me how I was feeling and I replied moyen, or “average”, so he asked me what I meant, so I replied “not good but not bad”. So he asked me “is there anything else I can do for you?” but I replied “no”. That was the depth of his examination.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … he doesn’t seem to be interested in his job, and I often get the impression that he’d much rather be elsewhere.

The snacks have changed at dialysis today too. I no longer have my coffee and orange juice. The coffee is still there, but the only other thing that I can have is a fruit purée. I suppose that I’ll have to make the best of that. Still, it’s all free, so I have no grounds to complain or to moan about it.

When the session was ended, which made a change to arrive at this point and not have the session cut short, the young nurse with the rabbit unplugged me quite quickly, but I had to wait for the taxi driver. But it didn’t matter. It was one of my favourite drivers and she’s taken me to Paris a few times. Travelling with her is “exciting” to say the least, so I know that we wouldn’t take long to be home.

There were two other people from another place nearby who needed collecting, and start as we mean to go on – at the roundabout at the end of the road, she shot round it, cutting up another couple of cars while she was at it, and I was home by 18:40, which makes a nice change.

My faithful cleaner helped me back into the apartment and stuck a disgusting drink into my hand when I sat down. After she left, I helped myself to a small plateful of my cottage pie, made with real cottages, and it really is delicious. There’s no doubt at all about that. I shall definitely make a permanent note of that recipe.

Back in here, I came to write out the notes for today, but before I’d made much progress, I’d fallen asleep. When I awoke, I took myself off the bed after I’d posted on line what I’d written, and I’ll finish the rest tomorrow. What kind of failure am I?

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about word counts for essays … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of a very old limerick that had done the rounds long before I every heard it –
"There was a young man from Japan
Who could never make limericks scan.
He said ‘my old bean
I know just what you mean
But I always try to fit as many words into the last line as I possibly can."

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LIVE: Sunday 11th October 2026 – AT LONG LAST …

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… Microsoft has enabled the toolbar at the bottom of your screen in Windows 11 to be moved, as was the case with most other previous versions of Windows. Now I can move mine to the right of the screen where it belongs, and I can press on and work properly.

And having done that, I can push on … "and push off too" – ed … and deal with today’s notes, which I hope that I can complete before fatigue overwhelms me.

But the latter is the most likely, because although Sunday is supposed to be a Day of Rest, I haven’t stopped all day today, not even for a minute, despite this “Day of Rest” thing.

Last night, I was in bed at some silly time of night. As I said yesterday, although I intended to be in bed early, I ended up crashing out while riding the porcelain horse, and that set me back quite a while.

However, once in bed, I managed to go to sleep fairly quickly, and although I awoke a couple of times during the night, it wasn’t for very long.

It was Isabelle the Nurse who awoke me, steaming into the bedroom to deal with my feet and legs. She admired my “space” quilt and pillow covers and asked me if I was celebrating the return of the French female astronaut to earth the other day.

After she left, I tried to go back to sleep, but it was quite pointless, so by 09:30 I was fully dressed and in the kitchen. The first task was to make some croissants, so I set to work. And I found some apricot jam, so before I folded the pastry over, I put a spoonful of apricot jam in each.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of THE REPORT OF THE WOOLHOPE NATURALISTS CLUB 1870.

Our author is still talking about the famous trees of Herefordshire, and he quotes a letter written by Sir Edward Harley, owner of Brampton Bryan Park in Herefordshire, written on 3rd September 1658, in the middle of one of the strongest storms to ever ravage the country, and round about the time that Oliver Cromwell died.

He tells us that "I wish the devil had taken him any other way than through my Park, for, not content with doing me all the mischief he could while alive, he has knocked over some of my finest trees in his progress downwards."

As well as that, in the book this unnamed “commissioner” writes about the hillfort called Croft Ambrey near Aymestrey. He credits it as being the site built by “King Ambrosius”, but if “King Ambrosius really did exist at all, apart from in the imagination of Gildas, he existed round about 450 – 550 AD, which was the crucial period of the defence of the Marcher areas of Cymru against the Anglo-Saxons.

However, later excavations on Croft Ambrey show that the hillfort was built about 1000 years earlier, round about 600 BC. It was quite a common Victorian misconception to think that hillforts date from the time of the Anglo-Saxon versus Britons period, and we have encountered this idea before in one of the other books that we read a while back.

Back in here later, I carried on with the notes from yesterday, and it was long after 13:00 when they finally went on line. Where on earth has the time gone? Things weren’t helped, I have to say, by my falling asleep for a while as I was typing.

The next job was to transcribe the dictaphone notes to find out where I’d been during the night.

I was with a girl last night. I don’t know who she was, but we’d been going out with each other for a short while. We’d heard some news about a friend of ours who worked in some kind of block of flats who was falling behind on his course because he wasn’t being given the ability to study where he was living. There was too much noise and too many people, and someone who already lived in that building was removed from the university not so long ago. We were being a bit careful about what we did, obviously, but we were trying to think of a way to solve this guy’s problems. Then there came the news at midday that a well-known college in Jersey, where many people go to study, had closed its doors, which was quite a surprise. There were all these students stranded on the island with no money and no way to go home. I, for one, started a fund, raising money on the internet to bring these people home, but we were having great fun imagining the situation in Jersey at the moment – all these people just having come would just have to go again, the roads would quieten down and the towns would quieten down. Someone had taken a few photos of the area, including my apartment, so that in due course, they could do some computer mock-ups and seats, and some kind of superimposed figures to make jokes. I tried to give my girlfriend a hug, but she was not in the hug-giving mood because her friends, who were in danger of losing their position to study, and I could understand exactly what they meant. It meant everyone calming down and diffusing to these kinds of organisations to make a start themselves.

Well, we start off with having a girlfriend, and that’s a novelty, to be sure. However, she won’t let me hug her at the end, and that’s much more like how things end up with me. Interestingly, my family doesn’t turn up to drop a spanner into the works, as they usually do at times like this. That’s some kind of good news, at least.

As for the rest of the dream, when we were at university, we had many people write to us and complain about the inability to study due to too many other distractions, and we proposed a raft of different solutions – working in the public library, going to bed early and then getting up early to work, before everyone else in the house gets up.

And the college collapsing, leaving hundreds if not thousands of people stranded a long way from home, reminds me of something, but I can’t think what it is.

I’ve just dreamt that the alarm went off and I got out of bed and went for a good wash and dressed myself. When I was sitting at the desk with the computer wondering what to do I found that I’d just woken up in bed, still in my nightclothes, so I don’t know what happened there.

This second dream was really so realistic that it did actually feel as if I had woken up and gone to change my clothes, etc. I really didn’t understand at first how come I was still in bed with my night attire. It certainly wasn’t a “phantom alarm” because whatever alarm it was didn’t manage to awaken the real “me”.

After that, we had football. And what a day it must have been for my two Scottish clubs.

Firstly, Greenock Morton were away at Arbroath. And being at the bottom of the table with just one draw and no wins, no-one expected very much. Nevertheless, Morton actually scored two goals, the first time that they’ve scored more than one this season. And although the Red Lichties pulled one back later in the game, Morton hung on to record their first win this season, and away from home too.

Then to Annan, where Stranraer were away to Annan Athletic. And for everyone who is claiming that Stranraer’s position at the top of the table is false, they were silenced when the score of this game was flashed up on the screen – Annan Athletic 1, Stranraer 6. And Stranraer were worth it too because they played some really good attacking football, something that has been missing from the club for the last few seasons. It really was a good match.

Later on, I had the homemade bread to make, but earlier, my chatbot had found a really good vegan cottage pie recipe, made with real cottages, so while I was waiting for the dough to rise and all of that, I made the cottage pie, and it went into the oven after the bread had cooked.

But latterly, I had Rosemary on the internet. She was stuck with her computer and wanted me to help her. So in between dealing with stuff in the oven, I was helping her. But I was running back and to between the kitchen and here, and I was absolutely exhausted.

As well as that, I was also talking to two of my friends on line.

But now that all of that is finished, I can turn my attention to my notes, and they are now finished too. With just a few more things to check, and then I’m going to bed, ready for dialysis tomorrow … "I don’t think" – ed …

One of my friends above is a retired doctor, and so, before I go, seeing as we have been talking about doctors … "well, one of us has" – ed … he was telling me that he had one of his patients come into his surgery with a lovely “shiner”, or black eye.
"How did this happen?" my friend asked.
"My wife had given me a slice of shepherd’s pie for tea last night."
"But how did this black eye happen?"
"Well, when the shepherd came in and saw me eating a slice of his pie, he wasn’t very happy."

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Sunday 31st May 2026 – I HAVE BEEN …

… spoilt to death today. So much so that I’ve told my friend that he can come again!

It’s not every day that I treasure quite like this, but it certainly makes me grateful that I have such good friends. In fact, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I don’t have many friends, but those I do have are the best in the World.

Last night, though, was slightly different. It was more like this morning – 03:30, in fact – when I finally slid underneath the covers. And I promise you – I was asleep before my head touched the pillow.

The next thing that I remember was the quilt being whipped off my feet. Hurricane Isabelle the Nurse had blown in and was ready to attack my feet and legs. She did the necessary without me having to move, fitted my socks for me and then asked for my medical card so that she could prepare her monthly accounts. All of this while my head was firmly tucked down underneath the quilt.

The medical card was in the pocket of my telephone, which was underneath my pillow so I managed to fumble it out for her. When she’d finished with it, she handed it back to me and I began to think about today.

A few minutes after she left, my friend stuck his head in through the door “Notice your coffee?”. Apparently, while I had been asleep, he’d been in and put a mug off coffee on the bedside table behind the head of the bed And I had heard or smelt nothing at all. What has happened to my legendary light sleeping?

Eventually, I managed to struggle into the kitchen where I began to make my breakfast. And I was so far out of it all that I forgot the home-made croissants. I had toast instead, which is not quite the same thing.

There were things to do, places to go and people to see so I came back in here for an hour or two and was then interrupted by “do you want to go for a drive?”.

Two weeks or so ago, when my friend first arrived, he had asked me the same question, and I refused. I was simply not up to it and couldn’t even summon up the strength to go out of the door. Today, though, I jumped at the chance and positively galloped out of the door. The only downside was that I couldn’t find the NIKON J5 to take with me.

Obviously, our tidying-up session of a few weeks ago was more efficient than I thought.

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

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

And THANKS to whoever in March bought some product via my links. My commission statement came today.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment, the Hound of the Baskervilles and I piled into the car while my friend put everything into the boot. It was only then that I realised that instead of struggling over to the bollards in the street, I’d actually managed to walk across the car park to the car without even thinking about it.

genets mont st michel manche normandy franceWe drove down the coast road as far as Genets where there’s a large car park with a long, grassy footpath and a really good view over Mont St Michel. We stopped there so that the Hound of the Baskervilles could stretch his legs, and he duly dragged his master off down the path as I admired the view.

When they came back, we set off again. I lost the way a couple of times, not having been down here for several years, and we saw parts of Normandy and the coast that I can’t ever remember. We stopped a few times for my friend’s photography session and then we carried on to Avranches.

Firstly, though, I took him to see where the dialysis centre was. If he knows where it is, he might be able to come to pick me up from there at some point if I need to flee. I’ve already been picked up there once by a friend when the only protection was flight.

After that, we took the old mediaeval road into Avranches, the one that’s incredibly steep and narrow with the ridiculous hairpin bend halfway up. This took us into the town centre, where we drove around in a circle for a while as I tried to find my bearings.

We eventually managed to find the Leclerc petrol station where we fuelled up and then drove back into the centre of town, where we drove around … etc. etc. We found a parking space right in the centre of town, where we parked. My friend hopped out and returned five minutes later with a kebab for him and a bag of chips for me.

Armed with our lunch, we headed off to the big car park by the church to do some eating, followed by the Hound of the Baskervilles dragging his master off once more, this time into the park nearby.

Later on, we set off for a drive around the countryside. We reached as far as Mortain but by now it was becoming late. My friend therefore switched on his SatNav to bring us back the quickest way possible and we ended up coming through Avranches yet again.

Back home, it was 17:45 when we arrived, far too late to make a pizza. Not to worry, though. My friend conjured up a cottage pie – “made of real cottages”, he told me. It was absolutely delicious and I must make some more at some point.

When we’d finished eating, I washed up everything and came in here, musing on the fact that I’d been treated to café au lit – not café au lait but café au lit or “coffee in bed”, a lovely day out, a bag of chips for lunch and a cottage pie for tea. What more could anyone want?

There were the dictaphone notes from last night to deal with, so I attacked them.

When Hurricane Isabelle the Nurse blew in, I was living in Alton Street in Crewe. I had two children in my charge, who were allowed to go and play on the wasteland behind the house, but if they went away from there, they had to come and tell me where they were going and what they were going to do. They were out there playing in one particular game and I had to go to one of the shops in the town centre. I was talking to them about this, but this was when Isabelle the Nurse came along and that was that.

Alton Street in Crewe and children (at least, one child) feature in something that’s actually happening at the moment, but it’s yet another story that the World isn’t quite ready to hear. And I wish that it had gone to its conclusion because it might have helped someone with what’s happening right now. Still, you have to work for a living and sometimes, work is more difficult than you imagine.

So now that my notes are written, I’m off to bed. It’s horribly late again but I’m not really tired. Anyway, I can always sleep at dialysis tomorrow afternoon if they let me. And that’s a big “if”.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about going out in the car … "well, one of us has" – ed … I joked with my friend about dropping me off at the bollards.
"That’s nothing" he replied."Just wait until tomorrow when you have to go to dialysis and you are picked up by the bollards."

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