Tag Archives: early start

Sunday 19th January 2025 – I HAVE HAD …

… what at first might sound like a really quiet day but it really wasn’t. I might not have seemed to have done much but I haven’t stopped. Not even for a moment.

After I’d finished writing out my notes I had some dictation to do – to dictate the notes that I’d written earlier in the week. That didn’t take too long and after I’d watched a couple of TV interviews on the internet, I crawled off to bed. I’d actually made it (for once) before midnight so with the lie-in until 08:00 I was going to have a decent sleep.

And I didn’t turn over or turn round much either. It did take an age to drop off, but once I’d gone, that was it.

Whatever it was that awoke me, I’ve no idea but at 07:45 I was wide awake, bolt-upright, 15 minutes before the alarm was due to go off.

And so, if I’m awake and there’s a possibility of recording an “early start”, then why not? When the alarm went off at 08:00 I was actually in the bathroom sorting myself out. How many times is this since dialysis began that a Saturday morning has been an “early start”?

After the bathroom I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone, to find out where I’d been during the night. We’d been on a holiday, on a cruise. The cruise had come round ready for people now to start the homeward leg. There was a fair bit of grumbling amongst the passengers about, first of all, parking the cars. There was some strangely-worded statement about people not turning up at the office, which, if interpreted in some way, meant that there was no parking for their vehicles. I somehow felt that it meant that one couldn’t go along and queue inside the office while you were waiting to be signed in. Everyone had his own interpretation on this. We talked about cars parked in a long-term car park for ages, and people with fork-lift trucks lifting them out of the way to put their cars in their place. We came back from this excursion and had to change out of our wet clothes into dry clothes. everyone else had done this and was drifting off on board and I couldn’t get out of my clothes. I couldn’t push my feet through my trouser legs. Everyone was drifting further and further away and I was still struggling. There was one guy and his wife still there. He’d been criticising some of the arrangements because he’d noticed that it was a very early start that morning. He’d posted something on the Group’s chat site that “I bet that it will be a packed lunch and cup of coffee on board the train for our breakfast rather than a sit-down meal in the hotel”. He’d been summoned by the Cruise Director and given a lecture and telling-off, so he reckoned that that was exactly what was going to happen. Eventually I managed to put on some kind of clothing and was able to catch up with the throngs although it was most uncomfortable. Then I heard that the rumour that this guy had started had actually been the truth. We were all to board the train and we’d be given a packed breakfast and cup of coffee once we were on board. The walkway over to this train was a narrow, rickety bridge suspended over a huge gap that was probably over 100 feet down. With all the people on this bridge swarming towards the train I was thinking that this bridge wasn’t going to withstand the pressure and we’d all go crashing down to the ground.

Whatever the story about the car park is, I’ve no idea. When I read this I had an image of a car hire office at the airport in Montreal, but don’t ask me why that vision came into my head because I can’t think of any comparable incident. Changing out of wet gear into our normal clothes was something that we did twice a day (at least) on THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR after we clambered out of the zodiacs that ran us around in the various bays and straits up in the High Arctic. However the struggle was usually when we had to put on our gear and rush for a zodiac that we might otherwise miss and all our friends and fellow-passengers would leave the ship without us. There wasn’t a chat group for the passengers though – sometimes we were in places where not even a satellite wi-fi system would work.

There was however a passerelle or “walkway” that collapsed – AT RAMSGATE IN 1994 but I was nowhere near that at the time. At least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Isabelle the Nurse breezed in as usual and didn’t stop for long. She didn’t have very much to say today, except that the weather really was freezing this morning, which was what I expected.

After she left I made myself breakfast, and then took my time eating it while I read MY BOOK.

Once more, I wasn’t going to waste neither my time nor yours posting more of the same old same old, except to say that at one point he describes with absolute and utter derision the argument of someone whom he freely admits is described as "at the head of living students of English history"

He spends page after page after page scoffing at the idea that Wissant was the port from which Caesar set sail (as if it matters in a book about Britain) concluding with "the claim of Wissant to be identified with the Portus Itius cannot be admitted.".

That was his position in 1907. Having spent page after page in treating with derision the writers who have changed their position over the years, in May 1909 he submitted a paper to the Classical Review, giving "strong reasons for preferring Wissant".

There was bread to make next. I had soup to make later and so I need a fresh bread roll. And that’s the advantage of the air fryer – I can bash out a bread roll whenever I like.

Today’s soup was broccoli stalk soup, with potato, onion, shallot and various herbs and spices, using up the last of the water from the blanching exercise of last weekend.

Heaping in a pot of soya yoghurt gave it that final touch, even if I did forget the black pepper and the tiny pasta elbows. Nevertheless, it was delicious and I’ll make more of that any time. If you want the recipe it’s HERE but it now has a shallot added to it too.

After lunch I came back in here ready to start work but first there was the football – Stranraer v East Fife. East Fife won 2-0 with the first goal being a foul and a wicked deflection, and the second being a handball. And if you think that I’m making it up, you can see for yourself in the HIGHLIGHTS. And you can hear the best TV football commentators in the entire country while you watch the game.

After that I settled down to edit the notes that I dictated last night but I didn’t get far. Someone came on line to whom I wanted to chat and this desultory chat went on until late in the evening, meaning that I could only edit the notes in the pauses between the chats.

We did however stop for tea. I’d taken a lump of dough out of the freezer earlier and it had been defrosting. Later on I rolled it out and put it onto the pizza tray ready to assemble.

Once it had risen I attacked the base and put on the tomato and pepper sauce, the olives, onions and mushrooms, sprinkled it with herbs, put on the vegan cheese and then a couple of nice rows of cherry tomatoes cut in half.

This one was nothing very much different than any other that I have baked but for some reason it tasted by far the best that I have ever made, and the cheese melted wonderfully. If only I knew the secret I’d make many more of those.

So tonight I’m off to bed, and tomorrow we’ll all wake up in a New World where the people of Canada and Greenland will be looking for the rest of the World to save them. Being threatened by a madman armed to the teeth backed by a crowd of paranoid lunatics is no way to live.

While we’re on that subject … "well, one of us is" – ed … one of Trump’s aides dashed into his office. "I dreamed about you last night" He said.
"Really?" asked Trump. "What was it?"
"Well," replied the aide. "You were being driven down Pennsylvania Avenue. People were cheering, flags were waving, kids were dancing and everyone was partying "
"Wow" Replied Trump. "That must have been wonderful. But tell me – my hair – how was my hair?"
"We couldn’t see" replied the aide. "We couldn’t get the lid off your coffin."

-1

Sunday 5th January 2025 – DID YOU ALL ..

… enjoy my radio programme this weekend? I hope that you all listened to it over the weekend. But if you missed it, shame on you, and you can hear it HERE and even dpwnload it it you like.

But meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment, today is the last day of my two weeks off work. Tomorrow the alarm goes on at 07:00 again and I start work, whenever the dialysis centre and my Welsh course (which restarts on Tuesday) let me.

So to celebrate, I intended to have a late night last night but I gave up the struggle round about midnight and crawled off to bed instead.

It was another hot, sweaty night after the Saturday dialysis session, as I have observed on several occasions. But I must have been asleep at some point because at 06:55 I was awoken by a phantom alarm call.

It was definitely a phantom call because I don’t have an alarm recorded at that time. Nevertheless, it certainly sounded like an alarm and I ended up sitting on the edge of the bed before realising that it was a false alarm, and once I’d realised that it was in fact a false alarm I went back to bed.

It goes without saying though that I couldn’t go back to sleep so at about 07:30 I gave up the struggle and arose from the Dead.

When the alarm went off I was at my desk working. I’d already had a really good wash and been into the kitchen to take my medicine so that I could have a good start to the day.

With time to spend, I had a listen to the dicaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was actually with a girl last night and I don’t know why because it was someone about whom I wouldn’t have thought anything in a million years. We were a couple. There had been something going on that had left everyone very dirty. It was an extremely messy day, something like that. At the end of it, I had to go somewhere so off I went. When I came back she was waiting. We ended up talking about our children although we didn’t have any at that particular moment. The plan was that we’d have two. She asked which one was going to be mine. I replied that it’s inevitable that it’s going to be a daddy’s girl, isn’t it? The assumption then is that she’s going to be a mummy’s boy. For some reason she quite liked the sound of all of that

“I was with a girl last night and I don’t know why”. … "Of course you do. Be your age!" – ed … But even though I might have known her in my dream, I don’t have a clue who she was now that I’m awake – if I really am awake right now. I keep on thinking that one day I’m going to awaken and it’s all, this last few years, been a rather unpleasant dream. But if I were to have had a daughter, my little princess would have been a daddy’s girl alright and been spoiled rotten.

And everyone very dirty? It sounds just like real life used to be, and I’m not talking about mud either. It just seems that a lot of smut has been wiped out of everyone’s mind these days compared to the good times that we had in the 60s and 70s

Did I dictate the dream about the children who used to go swimming with the whales in a swimming pool? … "no you didn’t" – ed … They launched some kind of fund-raising activity to raise funds and support the whales. It proved to be extremely successful so someone else organised a fund-raising activity. His aim was to provide food for the whales, to put something in their mouths, with the implication that they’d been doing this with these kids previously. For some reason that didn’t seem to be quite so popular as the previous one

That must relate to some news that we heard on the radio in the car about a big Marine holiday park closing down, and thousands of animals there are in danger. It’s all very well having these places closed down and I’m all in favour, but what becomes of the animals there? They can’t usually be released into the wild as they have no idea of how to fend for themselves.

And then finally Liz and I were back in the good old days of running “Radio Anglais”. It suddenly occurred to me one day that we hadn’t prepared a magazine for Radio Anglais for years. That was something that we used to do every couple of weeks religiously, to have something prepared and something organised. I wondered why it had suddenly fallen off the radar somehow. I had to have a sit and think about this – about how I was going to revitalise it and how I was going to restore it. We used to receive contributions from all of the other people working on the radio. What had happened that had stopped it? Should we go back and maybe restart it? Or is it a case of letting sleeping dogs lie? I remember being extremely perplexed and bewildered about this.

This dream was actually so real that I still can’t make up my mind even now that I’m awake whether it was ever something that we really did. It was actually quite disturbing that I found myself in such a state. It’s a long time since I’ve had such a vivid, realistic dream.

Isabelle the Nurse had a few more minutes to spare today and wasn’t in such a rush as usual. I suppose that with it being a Sunday the Laboratory is closed so there ae no blood tests. She spent her last week off working on her Carnaval float. It’ll be Carnaval Weekend sometime soon. She’s not telling me anything about the design of her float – it needs to be a big surprise for everyone.

After she left, I made my breakfast and carried on reading MY BOOK Caesar is now back in Gaul suppressing rebellions and fading from our picture as other Roman Emperors discuss the problem of what to do with the Britons. The story is that now that Caesar has regulated things with them, they can import and export to Gaul and the port taxes for unloading and loading far exceed any tribute that might be demanded, so it’s best to leave things be for a while.

Our author has made several references to Strabo’s “Geographia”. Strabo was a Roman scholar who travelled extensively and over a period of about 30 years from 7BC to AD24 wrote a whole series of books about the places that he visited and also the places about which he had extracted information from other traveller. It goes without saying that a copy of all 17 of his books IS AVAILABLE ON-LINE so I downloaded them for future reference. The list of books to read is growing enormously right now.

After breakfast I made some bread – a loaf for the week to come and a bread roll for this lunchtime because there is plenty of soup in the fridge and it needs using.

So at lunchtime I had a bowl of leftover butternut squash and potato soup with a fresh bread roll straight out of the air fryer. Lunch doesn’t get much better than this. There are some leeks that need using so I imagine that I’ll be having soup next weekend too.

Once lunch was out of the way I had a relaxing afternoon, not doing very much at all. In fact, I was trying to design a 3D head from a couple of photograph. The head itself didn’t take too long but I still can’t produce an accurate nose and the more I try, the worse it becomes. I’ve already restarted three times because I’ve got myself into such a mess

At one point I switched it all off and went for a slice of Christmas Cake to raise my morale so that I could start again.

Tea tonight was a vegan pizza, and another good job that was. At lunchtime I’d taken the last helping of dough out of the freezer and once it had defrosted I gave it a good kneading and then rolled it out onto the pizza tray. This evening I almost forgot the olives on the pizza but luckily I remembered them on time

There’s no doubt though – I’m going to have to do something about my oven. This table-top oven is really not up to the job. When I finally do move downstairs I’ll certainly be having an enlarged kitchen complete with built-in oven and built-in microwave.

Right now though, I’m off to bed ready to Fight The Good Fight tomorrow.

But that story about the Marine Park reminds me of the two rather large girls talking and having a drink in a bar in Bar Harbor, Maine. A local comes over to them and says "what a beautiful accent you have. I’ve not heard that before."
"Thank you" replied the girls
"Tell me" he continued. "are you two ladies from Ireland?"
"It’s ‘Wales’ actually" said one of them
"I’m terribly sorry" replied the man. "Are you two whales from Ireland then?"

Sunday 29th December 2024 – I HAVE BEEN …

… a very busy boy yet again today, and in the kitchen is a pile of food, all busy cooling down.

However, it’s not without its downside. I have been on my feet since 10:30 this morning and I’m totally wasted. In both my knees I have a pain that I can’t describe and I’m in agony.

As well as all of that, when the Sunday alarm went off at 08:00 this morning I was already up and about, and that’s despite the very late night … "or early morning" – ed … that I’d had.

It was approaching 02:00 when I crawled into bed last night. After I’d finished writing my notes and doing my backing-up, I stayed up for quite some time looking for stuff on the internet and reading a few various website. I wasn’t in any hurry.

But once in bed I stayed in bed, fast asleep until something dramatic awoke me at 07:05. No idea what it was, but I do recall that I have awoken dramatically before at that time. There’s something in the area happening that’s disturbing me.

So having awoken at that unearthly time I gave up trying to sleep at about 07:40 and headed to the bathroom for a wash and scrub up.

Next port of call was the kitchen to take my medication and then back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been. I’m dictating into my hand again. I was down in Virlet last night at one of the big ruined houses on the land that I own. I was thinking of doing something on one of the plots there with one of the ruins so I went down to look. There were enough ruins there and enough plots of land so if necessary I could submit a planning application for each one and that way, see what happens and how things develop. Virlet in the dream was nothing like my place at all. It was like a place that we have visited before with a much more traditionally-rural area with fewer hedges, more-open fields and a kind-of metal fence with plenty of tracks criss-crossing the area. These ruins were behind my house but raised up slightly so that they overlooked it.

This is a place that we’ve visited before during the night. But a long time ago, I think. But for a fleeting minute it did remind me of the place where we squatted near Audlem that winter 1977/78. Or was it 1976/77? But in any case, going from living in a squat and in the back of a van, within two years I was living in a brand new two-bed semi in Winsford.

Later on, I was with my girlfriend last night. She was a small, dark-haired girl. We were wandering around somewhere near a hotel and we suddenly realised that my brother and his girlfriend were there. We decided to go along and pay them a visit. When we arrived, my brother was on the ‘phone. He’d advertised a couple of his things for sale and was talking to someone as if someone had rung up to enquire about one of them. Whilst he was speaking on the ‘phone I went to tickle him. That interrupted his flow and he was not impressed. His girlfriend was there, a tall willowy girl. My girlfriend went in the meantime to look at his books. She found a book that she didn’t like for various reasons and boohed at it. The two of us were on our way into town for a wander round, go for a meal, look at the shops. We mentioned it to my brother, and he and his girlfriend agreed to come. We left his hotel room and walked down the corridor. My girlfriend suddenly said “I’ve left my pen on your leather chair”. We agreed to come back for it later. When we reached the door (we were on about the fifth floor) we had to wait for the lift, or go down the steps. Of course I had to use the lift because I couldn’t walk very well. My girlfriend looked out of this door and just jumped all the way down to the ground floor. We thought that she was crazy. The other two dashed down the steps after her. What I did was to position myself on the edge of one of the stairs and push myself. After a couple of minutes I had enough momentum and could slide all the way down. There were all these football supporters on the steps and they all cleared off out of the way as I shot past. When I reached the bottom, some of them came over. They expressed their admiration of what I’d done. To me, it was no big deal. It was just a case of finding the correct position, but they were really impressed by me coming down all those flights of stairs by just sitting on the edge of a stair and sliding down. In the end the manager of one of the teams came over and told me that he would like to meet me in the boardroom on one occasion in the near future. I asked myself “what on earth have I started now?”.

This is obviously a dream because I cannot imagine any circumstance in real life that would make me want to visit my brother. And also I can’t imagine any circumstance in real life during which I would have a girlfriend either, but that’s another story.

Girlfriends going berserk wouldn’t be a surprise either – there were a couple of those, and “what on earth have I started now?” – there have been quite a few moments where I have said that to myself.

The nurse was late today – he’d had a lie-in. And we had the usual banal questions before he cleared off and I could bet on with things. I made breakfast and read MY BOOK.

Today we are discussing the Hallstatt community in Austria. This existed for about 800 years, from 1200BC to 400BC and is classed as one of the first of the modern civilisations, with a modern industrialised community.

It centres around an important salt mine and several settlements around there were continuously occupied over this period, and so it’s been possible for archaeologists to observe quite closely the transformation from the end of the Stone Age all the way through to the modern Iron Age.

It’s a fascinating subject, and I was lost for hours amongst the pages of various websites that I’d found where this civilisation was discussed.

Interestingly though, the site ended in disorder. We are told that "there was widespread disruption throughout the western Hallstatt zone" and that "many Hallstatt graves were robbed, probably at this time"

As to what happened round about that time,."the apparently largely peaceful and prosperous life of Hallstatt D culture was disrupted, perhaps even collapsed, right at the end of the period. There has been much speculation as to the causes of this, which remain uncertain. Large settlements such as Heuneburg and the Burgstallkogel were destroyed or abandoned, rich tumulus burials ended, and old ones were looted. There was probably a significant movement of population westwards"

There has also been a discussion about a Carthaginian named Himilco.

The story of the navigation of Pytheas around the British Isles and Iceland in about 325BC is well-known, but 200 years earlier, Himilco set sail from somewhere in modern Portugal to the British Isles to bring back the tin that could be found there, according to rumour.

And there’s no doubt that he succeeded too because his reports were found to be quite accurate. However he didn’t return because the journey completely frightened him. Instead, the tin from Cornwall was shipped across to France and came to the Mediterranean by land and river.

First task this morning was to make a bread roll. And then some soup using most of the butternut that is left. That was lunch, and I do have to say that butternut squash soup is delicious, especially with fresh bread warm from the air fryer. Even better, there’s some left over and that will do for New Year.

This afternoon I’ve been making chocolate, ginger, coconut and orange cake and another large helping of flapjack. It took ages but mixing the stuff in the food processor is definitely the way to go. That was a good purchase, even though it was expensive.

Some pizza dough from the freezer was defrosting through the afternoon too, and I made a really nice pizza for tea. My cooking is definitely improving, but I wish that I had a decent oven.

As for “licking the bowl”, what can I say? It was every kid’s ambition to do that whenever mummy was baking (except in our house of course) and I can understand why. This afternoon I enjoyed cleaning the cooking utensils by using my tongue and it’s surely the best part of the cooking.

So right now there’s plenty of flapjack for lunch and chocolate cake for dessert for the next couple of weeks.

Something interesting that I noticed was that my bit of ginger root has started to grow. I’ll have to find some soil in which to plant it, to see what happens

Right now though I’m going to finish my notes and then I have things to do, so it will be another late night.

But seeing as we’re talking about cooking… "well, one of us is" – ed … I remember one of my siblings ask my mother "mummy, mummy, may I lick the bowl?"
"No you can’t" replied our mother. "You flush it like everyone else"

Thursday 26th December 2024 – MY CHRISTMAS PUDDING …

… is just as excellent and tasty as last year.

For pudding tonight I tried a helping with some nice custard and it really was delicious. This lot will be all gone at the end of this holiday season and I’ll have to make some more for next year if I’m still here, and I hope that if I do, it will be just as tasty as that which will have gone before.

Anyway, retournons à nos moutons as they say around here. Last night, it was quite late by the time that I’d finished my notes and done my backing-up, but I didn’t go straight to bed. It’s the holiday season so I stayed up and listened to some of my live concerts from the past.

One of them that came round was a Lindisfarne concert, the one at Newcastle upon Tyne City Hall in either 1977 or 1978. It’s the best time to listen to Lindisfarne, Christmas-time, especially with one of their Newcastle ones.

And they have some very happy memories for me. There was a big Lindisfarne fan club, of which I was a member, at school and I went to see the group in 1971. That was the famous concert where most of the group were locked out, leaving the harmonica player alone on stage playing his 10-minute harmonica solo for 25 minutes, and where I led my rather young girlfriend astray, much to the anger of her parents.

OH WHAT IT IS TO BE YOUNG, hey?

So somewhere round about 02:00 I called it a night and staggered off to bed, and there I stayed, sound asleep until about 07:40.

Yes, 07:40. I’d decided that as it was a Bank Holiday I’d set the “Sunday” alarm, which goes off at 08:00. However something rather dramatic awoke me. Once more, I’ve no idea what it was but I was awake, bolt-upright, with no possibility of going back to sleep.

When the alarm went off at 08:00 I was already up and about, having a good wash and a good shave just in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. Then back in here to listen to the dictaphone and await the arrival of the nurse. There was a group of natives wandering around somewhere. I happened to join them as part of their trip was taking me past one of the sites that I wanted to visit. I noticed that for breakfast every morning two guys there ate nothing but breakfast so I asked the chief what was the story behind this. He replied that whatever it was (…fell asleep here …) anyway the special meal that they had was taco rolls. They made the taco themselves by heating oil in a pan and dropping a few spoonfuls of this liquid in it. The heat caused the liquid to solidify into the taco and was really quite nice and was going to save me all of £20:00 on the delivery

So I’m now writing cooking recipes in my dreams. But that recipe is pretty much like a Breton crèpe recipe or even how bread would be baked out on the trail in the Nineteenth Century in North America and elsewhere, and probably even today in certain places. And if it’s going to save me twenty quid with every LeClerc delivery, then I’ll certainly be trying it.

The nurse didn’t stay long today. He was in and out and that was that. Then I could make breakfast and continue to read MY BOOK.

We’re now wandering around Dartmoor, where "like the people who dwelt on the Yorkshire Wolds, the inhabitants were poor and backward ; for the extreme scarcity of spindle- whorls and the abundance of the flint scrapers used for leather-dressing that lay scattered in their abodes seem to show that they were commonly clad in skins"

One thing that the upland areas of the British Isles, like Dartmoor and the Yorkshire Wolds, had in common and in abundance, was wildlife. Down in the fertile valleys and lowland plains, the pressure of population would have meant that most of the wild animals would either have been driven off or hunted. There would still be plenty up in the hills, so there would be plenty to skin and catch, and no need to make clothing out of cloth

This way of thinking can be seen in places like Canada. Stone and then brick have long-since been used in the construction of houses in most Western countries but they are still built in wood in rural Canada because there is just so much of it so close by.

After breakfast I came back in here for a relax for a couple of hours and then had to go to prepare myself for departure.

It’s a good job that we were ready early tonight because the taxi, booked for 12:30, turned up at 12:08. The driver has to go up the coast to pick up someone else and seeing as he was already in Granville, he thought that he may as well come here first.

Not that I’m complaining. These new Social Security rules means that I’m having loads of guided tours of all different parts of Normandy, seeing the sights and so on. It’s getting me out of the house and, as regular readers of this rubbish have remarked, I ought to get out more often.

Having picked up our passenger we had a belt all the way down the express road south and then off towards Avranches, where we arrived early.

Just for a change, I was one of the first to be plugged in and although the first pin was totally painless, the second one killed me. I have never had such a painful experience in the Dialysis Centre as this one, and I can still feel it even now.

There were no interruptions today, which was just as well. After I’d had my usual doze, I watched the football – Caernarfon v TNS.

Caernarfon were doing really well at one stage, with the score at 2-2, but two killer goals in just a couple of minutes killed off the tie and TNS even scored a fifth later in the game.

TNS’s play was much more technical and competent, but Caernarfon’s tactics of the long ball over the top for Louis Lloyd, their lightning-fast winger to chase, had TNS’s rather pedestrian defence in a few difficulties here and there.

After they disconnected me I went to look for my taxi and it was already outside so, for a change, I was home really early after all of that. The driver who brought me home was the young, chatty lad and we had an interesting conversation all the way home.

Coming back up the stairs was easier tonight than it has ever been in recent times, and I was soon back in here where I watched the highlights of the rest of today’s games. And today’s results, with Llansawel’s dramatic victory against Cardiff Met, means that Y Drenewydd have been sucked into the relegation dogfight.

Tea tonight was a delicious leftover curry with naan bread followed by a delicious Christmas pudding and custard (I still have a small amount of custard powder left)

So now that I’ve finished my notes I’m going to hang around for a while before going to bed and have sweet dreams of Castor, Zero and TOTGA.

But talking about that dream of making taco rolls and home-made field bread … "well, one of us is" – ed … the recipe is actually in the Boy Scout cookbook
The Scouts were introduced by Lord Baden Powell when the British Army was blockaded by a group of recalcitrant Dutch farmers in Mafeking in South Africa. He became a War hero and later went on to write a book to encourage young boys to take up the outdoor life.
One day, someone went into a bookshop in London and asked "may I have a copy of Lord Baden Powell’s autobiography, please?"
"He never wrote an autobiography" said the sales assistant. "He only ever wrote one book. It’s called ‘Scouting for Boys’"
"Isn’t that his autobiography then?"

Tuesday 24th December … TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE …

… living in Panama, HIS NIBS and I wish you a Merry Isthmus

And so does Nanuk, a very friendly Polar Bear whom we met in the High Arctic Research Area in Cambridge Bay on Victoria Island in the Arctic Ocean where those of us on board THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR called for supplies.

Nanuk, or, I suppose, more correctly Nanu’q is Inuktitut for “polar bear”. Some words that I learned from the Inuit in the High Arctic seem to have stuck.

However, retournons à nos moutons as they say around here. It’ll be Christmas Day by the time that most of you read this so I hope that you have all been good and that Santa has brought you some nice presents. I know what he has brought me, and it’s the same that my namesake the mathematician will receive.

One thing that he will bring will be a nice lie-in. I’ve told the nurse to clear off, the alarm is switched off and that will be that. That’s the best present that anyone could want.

Not like this morning though. When the alarm went off I was already up and about.

It wasn’t as if I’d gone to bed early either. It was approaching midnight by the time I crawled into my stinking pit and once more, I was out like a light and felt nothing at all. Totally painless.

However, something awoke me at about 06:40 this morning, and it was another quite dramatic awakening. I’ve no idea what it was that went off but whatever it was supposed to do, it certainly did it.

Seeing that I stood a good chance of beating the alarm, I fell out of bed and had a most undignified crawl to the bathroom where I sorted myself out, and switched off the alarm when it went off.

In the kitchen I made sure that everything was put away and then took my medication for the morning

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what went on during the night. At one point I was having a really long, involved and complicated dream that was so interesting. I reached for the dictaphone and the dream evaporated immediately from my mind. I couldn’t recall a single thing about this dream at all

That must have been a real disaster, forgetting an exciting dream like that. But it’s like one of those projector slides that just slides down over the memory and blots it out completely.

Later on, Nerina and I had gone to the USA. We’d been driving around the Midwest just on a case of opportunism, looking at one or two things that were there, but otherwise just following our noses. We eventually turned up in this town in Wisconsin. There was a village fair advertised but which had taken place on 3rd June. We went to have a look at a couple of the notices that were on this site. After a while we worked out that we were actually on the training ground. There must be another site somewhere else where the events took place so we decided to walk across the road and have a look. There, we met some guy who was walking down the road. We said “hello” and ended up having a chat with him about the town. He wanted to know all about us and what we were doing there, a typical friendly American. He decided that he would show us around. The first thing that he took us to was what looked like a large rectangular area with grassed-over earth walls around it. He said that that was where a film had been filmed – one of these Space fantasies in the 1950s about people from Earth going to live on another planet. It had all been filmed there. Then next door to this was a huge office block that must have covered a dozen acres in a kind of Y-shape. It wasn’t very tall, about twelve storeys. This apparently was the offices for this fair. I thought that this was going to be an astonishing place. He took us round to the offices. When we walked around the corner there was this huge arena in the shelter of two of the arms of this Y-shaped building, a massive place. This was apparently where the events took place. We thought that for a little, small town fair this is an astonishing situation. He gave us a talk on it. We turned up at one of the corners of this building. There was a bar in there. he said that he was going in so Nerina said that we ought to buy him a coffee so what would he like to drink and what would he like. We’d had one of the most astonishing guided tours that I’ve ever had in my life.

This is another dream in which there’s a lot of mileage. Firstly, of course, Nerina appears in it. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I don’t mind at all her turning up. I invited her into my life all those years ago so she has every right to be there, and in any case, I wouldn’t have invited her if I hadn’t liked her and nothing that has happened since has changed a thing. They say that you can choose your friends but not your relatives, and that’s certainly true. She would be chosen ahead of a lot of other people much more closely related to me.

Then of course there’s the village, or small-town fair. That’s an institution in many rural areas of the USA and we used to always go to the one in Clinton, in Maine. They had tractor-pulling competitions there so my niece’s husband and two of his daughters used to compete with their monster truck. This fair, like all the others, was epic and there’s nothing like it anywhere else. Watching the kids take part in the piglet-wrestling competition is bewildering if nothing else.

And then there are Americans. Americans in groups are devastating but one American on his or her own in the rural regions is probably one of the most friendly people on the planet, as long as you don’t discuss politics. You’ll remember Isaac Weld saying something along the lines that Americans have a deep sense of curiosity and will ask the most intimate questions to enquire about you and your purpose of visiting their neck of the woods. That’s certainly true. They have a natural sense of inquisitiveness, more than any other people

But then there’s the huge stadium in the tiny town. That rings a bell with me because every now and again my website statistics are swamped by visits that come from the small town of Prineville in Oregon, with the browser being recorded as “other”. Prineville is a town of just 10,000 inhabitants and sometimes it seems that every one of those people visits my sites every day, judging by the number of hits.

However, the mystery is easily explained. In Prineville is the location of two massive data centres, one for a major telephone and computer supplier and the other for a huge social media company. So all these hits are actually coming from all over the World but accessed by the medium of the various private data network connections and the various “own brand” browsers.

There was a load of mileage in that dream.

The nurse came early today and didn’t hang around. I reminded him not to come on Christmas Day as I’ll be in bed. I’m sure that I can manage for one day without him being here sorting out my legs.

After he left I made breakfast and read MY NEW BOOK.

And in it, T Rice Holmes answers one of his own questions, and the answer is exactly as I expected it to be. He seems now to have forgotten his question about why the continued use of Palaeolithic tools even though Neolithic tools are in use on the continent. However, he does admit that "pastoral tribes do not turn to agriculture until their numbers have increased to such a degree that they have no prospect of being able to live by hunting".

Later, he says "but as their numbers multiplied and it became more and more difficult to find sufficient food, the struggle for life must have led to intertribal war, and men’s minds must have been exercised to improve their weapons"

So, as I said, if the old stuff works, keep on using it but, as I also said yesterday, "It’s only when something like a greater pressure from an increasing population comes along that new technology is considered"

He’s still stuck in the stereotypical myths of savage prehistoric man, which can hardly be the case bearing in mind the organisation that must have taken place to build the barrows, stone circles, hill forts and the like. He comments "matriarchy, it would seem, was the root of family life : descent was reckoned through the mother, for the father was often unknown.", and that on the basis of absolutely no evidence whatsoever.

Today, I have done almost nothing at all. I have had a nice relaxing day. All that I have done in the way of work is to track down a couple of concerts that I knew were somewhere about, identify them and date them.

My friendly cleaner came round today instead of tomorrow to give the place a clean-up. And that included me, because I had my weekly shower. And didn’t I feel better for it? I can’t wait to be downstairs, have a walk-in shower installed and then hava shower every day.

Tea tonight was a taco roll with rice and veg, that didn’t drop onto the floor tonight. It was followed by ginger cake and soya dessert. Tomorrow it will be my Christmas dinner. I shan’t be doing much tomorrow, or celebrating. But I shall be eating well.

So I’m not off to bed yet, but I’ll finish my notes and take my time. A lie-in in the morning.

But while we’re on the subject of the town fair at Clinton in Maine … "well, one of us is" – ed … in one programme that we were given when we were there, it talked about the results of the previous year’s competition.
And there we saw the classic entry "Mrs Jones won the ‘throwing the rolling pin’ competition"
and a few lines further down – "Mr Jones won the 100 yards sprint."
I bet he did!

Sunday 22nd December 2024 – I SOMETIMES WONDER …

… where I’d be now if I head my head switched on all the time, instead of just occasionally in the odd, rare flashing moments of inspiration.

But when it does happen, it reminds me of Kenneth Williams who once famously said "sometimes I’m taken aback by my own brilliance".

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that for a number of weeks now I’ve been having a really hard time in the kitchen, as standing on my feet for several hours is killing me completely.

So this morning, as Isabelle the nurse was oiling my legs and fitting my compression socks and I had my leg resting on the stool for the electronic drum kit, I suddenly thought “stool”.

For weeks now I’ve wanted one of these screw stools, where the seat is adjustable for height, so I could sit in the kitchen at the right height when I’m working and just swivel round to reach for what I needed. And there this morning, I thought “drum stool”.

Sure enough, when I had a look at my stool I found that the seat was adjustable for height. Not as much as I would like, but it made a real difference. For much of the day I’ve been working in the kitchen and being quite comfortable about it, because I’ve been sitting down and that makes quite a difference.

But returning to last night, after I’d finished my notes and everything that I had to do, I dictated the radio notes that I’d written last week and then went to bed. it was 23:40 which meant that although it was later than my ideal time of 23:00, the alarm was set for 08:00 so I was due for a decent, long sleep.

Or so I thought.

It might have been that I was asleep quite quickly, but it didn’t stay like that. It was another night of fitful sleep, tossing and turning and drenched in sweat like a few nights have been after the dialysis.. By 07:40 I decided to call it a day and when the alarm went off at 08:00 I was already up and about

Isabelle the nurse was early to day. There are no blood tests to perform as the laboratory is closed on Sundays. She did what we had to and we talked about the storm, the train cancellations and the cancellation of the Christmas parade.

The storm – yes. It’s a permanent fixture now. We have another one blowing like a hurricane. All trains along the coastal line between Caen, Granville and Rennes are cancelled and as I said just now, the Christmas parade is cancelled too.

After she left I made breakfast and then read MY NEW BOOK.

We’re discussing Palaeolithic, Stone Age Britain at the moment and in particular, the religious element.

The author, Thomas Rice Holmes, is struck with the idea that the Ancient Briton worshipped his weapons and prayed to his God to bless them. However, I have another theory.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I’m a great believer in the existence of the sixth sense. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that a few months ago we discussed how it was possible to stare at someone from a window, and after a while they would suddenly turn round and look up at you. Did anyone try it?

So what I’m thinking about this devotion or prayer is that it isn’t devotion or prayer at all. It’s ancient, prehistoric man concentrating hard on his weapon and transferring some of his mysticism and will to it so that when he would throw it, it would travel straight and true in accordance with its owner’s wishes.

Of course, that’s not so far removed from praying, but I think that it’s important to identify it correctly. But what do I know anyway?

There’s an interesting quote in the book that certainly struck a chord with me. He quotes an unknown author who once said "as I moved from place to place, I somehow seemed to know less and less, and I cannot say what would have been the result" That is something to which I can really relate.

But while we’re on the subject of Thomas Rice Holmes … "well, one of us is" – ed … I had a look on the internet to see what was known about him. I mentioned the other day his love of polemic and light-hearted “frank exchanges of views”, and someone called Bill Thayer, a commentator on ancient texts, notes that amongst Rice Holmes and his contemporaries, there was "a flurry of argument and counter-argument"

It looks as if I’m going to be in for a bumpy ride.

After reading my book, I started work, armed with my revolving stool.

First thing was to make some dough. If I’m having soup at lunchtime, I’m having fresh bread so I want to make a bap. One thing about the air fryer is that you can cook small amounts of bread so 100 grams of flour made a lovely bread mix, which I left to fester.

And then, people, I marzipanned my Christmas cake. The marzipan rolled out nicely and with some of the jam that my friends in Macon gave me last time I was there, it stuck a treat to the Christmas cake. Then the cake went back into the fridge to cool down

Back in here, I listened to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. Someone came round to the house for a taxi. While he was waiting for a taxi to pull up, he began to nibble away at all my cheese on the kitchen worktop. After a couple of minutes I told him that if he doesn’t stop I’m going to charge him for it. He carried on nibbling so I had a look at the shopping list and said “right, that’s £1:60 for the cheese”. He replied “oh no, it’s £0:60”. I insisted on £1:60 and if he didn’t like it he could clear off. He cleared off, uttering all kinds of threats like dancing up and down on the vehicles, making a noise, slitting the tyres etc. I told him that anyone who does anything to any of my vehicles would need a very good doctor. Then he left. When I came back in the girl on the radio said “you’d better go to see your brother in law. His car’s on fire”. Just then a car pulled up. Two passengers, a very young girl and a woman alighted and so did my youngest sister’s husband. I had a look underneath it. It looked clean and tidy, and I couldn’t see anything. A asked “are you sure that this car has caught fire?”. He replied “the little girl is”. I replied “I can’t see anything at all under here that shows any sign of flames”.

The one thing that I miss since I’ve been on this vegan diet is the cheese. I used to love cheese and I could eat tons of it. But not any more, unfortunately. Vegan cheese is a very poor substitute. It’s just over 32 years – October 1992 in fact – since my pancreas gave out. And all the meat in my freezer that I had to give away that night when I came home from the doctor’s!

At the hospital they had given me four options –
1) – transplant. But the transplant was in its infancy and the success rate wasn’t assured.
2) – injections every day. But then I’d lose my professional driving licences
3) – die
4) – try to control it by diet, eliminating all animal fats

So while I went onto this extreme diet overnight, I thought that I may as well go the whole hog too so apart from that evening up on that mountain in Bulgaria with Percy Penguin and a host of other skiers lost in the fog in 1994, not a drop of alcohol has crossed my lips.

And it worked too. I lost 10kg almost immediately and in Brussels a couple of months later I started running again. And as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I was still running up until just two or three years ago.

Later on, I had to go to see a psychiatrist or psychologist or someone or other so I took myself off to his premises. It turned out to be a shop somewhere in the Ardennes and he was the shopkeeper. He was busy serving people so I sat myself down in the corner, took up my laptop and began to work. After a while he finished serving his customers and came over. I put everything away. He asked “you aren’t working today are you?”. I explained that I was always working. He was astonished by that. He said “we aren’t all that enthusiastic about work here in the Ardennes”. I replied “I can see that, looking at some of these dusty shops that need a good clean”. He smiled and just then another customer came in and was waiting to be served. I told him that he had a customer. He replied “so what?”. I asked “aren’t you going to serve her?”. He grudgingly picked himself up and wandered off over there and I took out my laptop again anfd began to work.

Having done that, this dream restarted when he came back and sat down on the bench by me. I said “I hear that you have been having trouble to pee”. I wondered how he’d heard that. I hadn’t said anything to him about that up until that moment just then.

Anyone who wants to go to see a psychiatrist needs his head examined. Quite But here’s another dream into which I stepped back later. What can’t I do that whenever Zero, Castor or TOTGA come around? I can’t imagine wanting to do that with a psychiatrist. I must need my head examining.

And that reminds me – the trick cyclist from the hospital hasn’t been to see me for ages. Has she forgotten me too?

Finally, I was at school and had been into town for lunch. I’d ended up in a big shoe shop, toy shop, department store. The queues were enormous and I had to fight my way around. There were people queueing on the stairs and I had a great deal of difficulty trying to go down them. People were going down either side of these people queueing on the stairs, making things even more difficult. Eventually I could extract myself and head back to school. I heard a voice behind me say “oh there’s someone else late for school. Let’s run and see if we can beat him and he’ll be last”. I made it back to school first and the teacher was already in my classroom teaching so I slunk in and sat at my seat, late again. He was already talking to the kids about the “Dirty Harry”, or was it “The Godfather” films, asking how long this series continued. Someone said “fifteen years” but he replied that in fact it was thirty years, which surprised everyone. Then we began to discuss the plot for another film. I began to dream about Eastwood who had been on a mission somewhere and had met a lonely girl in a bar. He’d spent the evening with her and then gone his separate ways. Next morning he’d looked for her name in the ‘phone book, went to a florist’s and ordered some flowers and sent them to her. Then, as arranged, went round to see her in the afternoon. He had a gold-coloured sports car in which he took off from the side of the kerb on the wrong side of the road and had to weave in through the traffic to do a U-turn and then headed off. He reached the address where there were a few people wandering around. Some woman came up to him and said something about him being in his work clothes. He asked “how do you know?”. She replied “you’ve changed since you were here last night”. He asked the people what was going on. Someone said “it’s a woman”. he worked out that it was the woman whom he’d come to see. “She’d committed suicide last night just after you had gone”. It turned out that she had a gunshot wound in the neck from previously. When he’d given her a playful karate chop he’d missed that gunshot wound by millimetres. He was wondering what on earth had happened that had made her want to commit suicide because she was certainly the kind who was depressed, being lonely in a bar but he thought that his presence would have cheered her up a little

It’s been a long time since I’ve had an epic dream like that. It’s one of these major ones that keep on going and going and it’s a shame that there was no nice young female involved with me appearing in that dream, as there sometimes is. It’s interesting though that there’s a “dream within a dream”. We’ve had a few of those where we’ve managed to move up a level. Not quite the 25th level, about which Dennis Wheatley used to brag, but a step up all the same

And here I am, scriptwriting in the night too. Is there no end to my nocturnal talents?

Back in the kitchen, I made my broccoli stalk soup, remembering to put the little pasta elbows in today. My bread went up like a lift, the best that I’ve ever made, and the soup was totally delicious with a tub of soya yoghurt tipped into it. What a nice lunch that was!

Then it was mince pie time. I have two rolls of puff pastry but I only used one. That made the bases and tops for five pies which is a nice number over Christmas. And in my silicon pie mould, five pies used half a jar of mincemeat. At this rate there will be enough mincemeat in stock for five more years

Football was next, Stranraer against Stirling Albion, who had a friend of mine in goal. And I have never seen so many open goals missed by Stranraer or saved by David Gaston. Some phrase concerning stringed musical instruments and the nether regions of certain ruminant animals sprung to my mind as I watched Stranraer miss open goal after open goal.

They finally managed to score right at the end of the game, only for Stirling to roar upfield and score an equaliser with probably their only shot of the game.

There won’t be another game like that ever again.

Making dough was next. I’ve run out for the pizza and that’s a calamity so I made a 500 gram mix, put two lumps in the freezer and the third lump I used as tonight’s meal.

Next was icing the Christmas cake. And despite it being cold, the icing kept on sliding down the side and I had to keep on spreading it back up. But that icing knife that I bought from Noz is a great tool to have. It made the job much easier than it might have been

While I was assembling the pizza I had the oven on, baking the mince pies. Now they are done and they look delicious. My pizza was delicious too.

You might think that after all of that, with the pudding that’s in the freezer, I’m ready for Christmas. But that’s not so. While I was working this afternoon I kept on thinking, as I was talking to Rosemary (I managed that too) “thers’s something else that I’ve forgotten”.

And now I know what it is. I forgot the hash browns.

So that will be the job tomorrow before I go to the Dialysis Clinic.

As well as all of that and chatting to Rosemary, I’ve been working on some of the radio notes too, and I’m exhausted which is no surprise.

In a few minutes, I’ll be off to bed. And then it’ll start all over again tomorrow. It’s relentless

But while we’re on the subject of football, dreams and psychiatrists … "well, one of us is" – ed … I once went to see a psychiatrist (well, I actually went more than once, but that’s another story)
"Doctor doctor" I said "I’m having these terrible dreams. I’ve seen all these ants playing football in the Ants World Cup. We’ve had a round of thirty-two, then a round of sixteen, then a round of eight, then a round of four. It’s driving me out of my mind, doctor. Please help me"
"Well, never mind" said the doctor. "Take this prescription to the chemist, have it made up and take two of the tablets tonight. I promise you – you’ll sleep like a baby and you won’t have any dreams at all"
"Ohh – I can’t do that tonight doctor" I said
"Why not?"
"Well, they are playing in the final tonight and I don’t want to miss that!"

Saturday 21st December 2024 – JUST FOR A …

… change, the two pins that go into my forearm at the Dialysis Centre went in totally painlessly today, and it’s been a long time since that that has happened. I was so relieved when they went in without making me scream “blue murder”.

All we needed now was a dialysis machine that works, but you’re greedy if you have everything, aren’t you? I felt really sorry for Alexia and Naomi who had to keep on running to my machine every five minutes to give it a kick to shut it up. The poor girls must have been exhausted.

One thing that I know however was that I wasn’t quite so exhausted this morning. I was up (but not necessarily about) this morning before the alarm went off yet again

It wasn’t as if I’d gone to bed early either. It was another late-ish night where it took an age for me to find the motivation to haul myself off out of my chair and into my bed just one step away. I don’t know what’s the matter with me.

Once in bed though I was asleep quite quickly and there I stayed without moving until I awoke quite suddenly and dramatically. I had a look at the time and it was 06:54. I’ll be moving myself out of bed in six minutes so I may as well rise up now and start the day as I intend to go on.

When the alarm went off I was sitting on the edge of the bed and it was quite an effort to go farther than that this morning but eventually I managed to haul myself into the bathroom.

After a good wash and shave I filled the washing machine with stuff and set it off on its travels. That’s all of the washing done now – until the next time, at least. I don’t know where all these dirty clothes come from

In the kitchen the task for today was to put away all of the paper bags in which LeClerc’s order arrived, put the carrots into the freezer now that they have finished draining, and then put away all of the washing-up that I did yesterday. Once I’d done that I could then take my medicine.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what was going on last night while I was asleep. There was some kind of stately home that had fallen on hard times due to the effects of Inheritance Tax etc. They were all talking on the local market about how very soon it would be the first home in the UK to admit paying visitors in order to recoup some money. They interviewed the former head gardener who was now leasing the vegetable garden there. He was saying that he was in the process of growing 2cwt of lettuce for sending to Manchester and talking about how much of a shame it was about this stately home.

That’s weird, isn’t it? I can’t think of anything that has happened recently that has any connection with any of this at all.

Isabelle the Nurse came around, late again. We had a good chat about Christmas decorations and the like in town. She things that those of us up here in the haute ville ought to make more of an effort to decorate the place. Apart from the lights in the Place Cambernon I’m the only person here with anything like any festive decorations.

My opinion is that in the little square we ought to have a Christmas market with little cabins selling craft articles and there should be a hot wine stall too. Isabelle thinks that I should run for mayor, but I don’t even have the right to vote, never mind stand for election.

After she left I made breakfast and began to read my book. This one is about Britain in the period immediately prior to the Roman invasion. At least, it’s supposed to be but we’re now at page 18, still in the preamble and the author is still taking a light-hearted sideswipe at several authors and archaeologists who preceded him.

That kind of thing is not the stuff of which serious books are made. It’s all very well writing in the vernacular for people who aren’t experts in their field, but at least you should do it with dignity (said he, having just written “that kind of thing is not the stuff of which serious books are made”)

After breakfast I hung out the washing. And there were tons of it too. I’m really working my little washing machine quite hard these days. It could do with a rest, just like me, I suppose.

And then I had things to do, and once more I was caught unawares by my faithful cleaner who came to fit my patches.

We had a laugh and a joke for a few minutes and then she cleared off leaving me to wait for the taxi to come for me.

It was the guy who seems to have an “in” on the administration of the company who came for me today. We went to pick up the other guy who comes with us and we had a chatty drive down to the Dialysis Centre.

Plugging me in was painless but once more it caused me to crash out once the machine began to pump. And then the machine misfired, whined, I awoke, a nurse came running and that’s how it went on

But on the VIRTUAL LIBRARY that I use, I struck gold. Not only have I found all seven volumes of the legendary “War In The Air” – the official account of all air operations concerning the UK in World War I – whether committed or on the receiving end – but I’ve also found the official Military History volumes, and there are dozens of those.

So while I was there I made a start on the downloading, and I’m going to be there for ever downloading them, never mind reading them.

These are the books that have been used as sources for so many other books by other authors when their memories, or the memories of the respondents have failed them. I’ve always said that being on the internet is like living in the biggest library in the World.

Emilie the Cute Consultant was there today and even though she walked several times past my bed, she studiously ignored me. Ahh well! You can’t win a coconut every time … "are you allowed to say that these days?" – ed …

My favourite taxi driver brought me home this evening, and so we had a running commentary all the way back. She’s a real chip off the old block, just like a real taxi driver

My faithful cleaner was at her post, waiting for me, but I was busy looking at my Christmas lights. They do look pretty from down here and I wish that other people would make an effort. I’m not even festive but I still have my lights and my artificial Christmas tree.

Tea tonight was baked potato with one of those breaded quorn fillets and a vegan salad, followed by ginger cake and soya dessert.

So I’ll dictate the radio notes for this programme that I wrote during the week and then go to bed. There’s a lie-in until 08:00 which is just as well because I have a lot to do. And thanks, Rosemary, for the recipe for icing.

But there’s more building work going on at the hospital. I asked one of the nurses what the new building that they were erecting was going to be for.
"It’s the Memory Unit" she said. "It’ll be where people who are suffering from loss of memory will go"
"That’s a waste of money, isn’t it?" I asked.
"Why’s that?" she asked
"You don’t need a building for them" I replied. "Just give them a random appointment and they’ll forget to turn up"

Friday 20th December 2024 – WHEN THE ALARM …

… went off this morning, I was already sitting at my desk working.

Round about 05:20 I awoke all of a sudden, bolt-upright for no reason that I could fathom.

Despite trying my best to go back to sleep, by the time that 06:00 came round, I’d given it up as a bad job and rose up from the Dead. No sense wasting the early morning when I have plenty to do

It’s amazing really. It doesn’t matter how much I think that I have done on the previous day, it all starts again the following morning. It’s absolutely relentless.

Last night I was late going to bed too. It was almost midnight when I slithered into my stinking pit and I was soon asleep. And there I stayed until 05:20, as I said just now.

By 06:00 I was in the bathroom having a good wash and scrub up and then into the kitchen for the medication, remembering to take the medication today that I’m not allowed to take on Dialysis Day.

And then, for a change, I made myself a mug of instant coffee to help bring me round into the Land of the Living.

First thing that I did was to check the dictaphone to find out what I’d been doing during the night. I was with the Hobbits last night. We were baking a cake. Some time later I actually saw the cake appear. It was in my outstretched arm hovering above the bed. I went to reach it, but I couldn’t reach it at all. Every time that I closed my eyes it was still there but when I opened them it had gone again. It was like this for several minutes with me trying to touch it with the cake disappearing at that moment.

Now that was what I call a nightmare, being unable to grab hold of a cake hovering just out of my reach. And I can’t say if I saw it as a nightmare at the time because I have no recollection at all of any of this dream.

And then I was working on the radio last night but the radio was dying out. There was only really me sending stuff in. I was working on the programmes for August. I realised that I had changed my style considerably, that I was really only discussing the music rather than giving some kind of entry and exit to the radio. I’d lost a lot of the spontaneity that it had right at the very beginning. I was wondering what I was going to do about it.

One of the things about which I think quite frequently is how to change the format of my radio but I don’t have the time to think of another way of doing them

There was something else along here in the same dream where I ended up in Middle Earth with a party of dwarves being chased by a group of orcs, something rather like THE HOBBIT which is what I’m currently watching as I eat my evening meal, but that part of the dream is all very confused and didn’t really relate to anything.

It looks as if I have a fixation with Hobbits right now. They say that watching Peter Jackson’s films is hobbit-forming and who am I to disagree?

Later on, I was in bed when I was dreaming but I can’t remember where it figured in or sat in with anything

Now that’s more like one of my dreams. I can’t remember anything at all about it.

But I think that I now know what awoke me this morning. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that every few weeks I complain about a stabbing pain in my right heel, one of the worst pains that I have ever experienced. Every few minutes for about 12 hours there’s the sensation that someone is stabbing a needle into my heel

A couple of weeks ago it had moved into the sole of my foot but today, it’s started up again this morning, this time right behind the little toe and it really does hurt. Every ten minutes as regular as clockwork and I wonder if it was that which had awoken me.

And then I had a foot-fest. ¨Porthmadog FC who play the 3rd Division had put on line the videos of their recent matches in their League Cup so I sat and watched them.

First up was Porthmadog cruising home comfortably 3-0 away from home against Pwllheli. They they took on Llanidloes FC and won even more comfortably, 5-2 at home

Next up was their match against Y Rhyl and there they came unstuck. They managed a 1-1 draw but were knocked out in a penalty shoot-out 6-5.

Casting around, I managed to watch the next round too as Y Phyl took on Mynydd Y Fflint. That was a bad-tempered match, as it usually is when Y Rhyl are playing but for a third-division match there were bags of quality on view.

Y Rhyl won 2-0 but the big talking point is how come both clubs ended up still with eleven players each on the field after all of what went on

Isabelle looked at my foot when she was here, late as usual. She could see nothing but when she touched a certain spot I went through the roof. That hurt, and no mistake, so there’s definitely something going on.

Breakfast was next, and then I carried on with my book, which I finished this morning.

The conclusion is that the site was heavily occupied by a cattle-rearing concern also practising subsistence farming, wheat farming and operating a bakery too. But then the buildings abandoned when the farm was either absorbed into a larger unit of else ceased production completely..

A couple of generations later, it was occupied again for about 50-75 years, but on a much smaller scale and with lesser input from the occupiers.

The presence of some Germanic pottery shards suggests itself to the author of the report that there might have been some itinerant Germans passing through the site, but to me, I was wondering if it might have been settled by some German soldier in service to the Roman Army who had settled here after his military service had ended.

Back in here, next job was to deal with my LeClerc order and send it off. It’s the most expensive order that I’ve ever sent, but it includes quite a few Christmassy things, both for me and for others. As well as that, coffee was on special offer so even though I have a pile, I ordered some more.

For a change, LeClerc had everything that I’d noted down, so it’s my own fault that I forgot the clementines, not theirs

For much of the day I’ve been writing notes for my radio programme. I’m well into September next year so this talk in my dreams of radio programmes for August is already too late. Anyway, by the time that I’d knocked off for the day, everything had been written ready for dictation tomorrow night.

That was impressive because there were plenty of interruptions. For a start, my cleaner came in and now I have light-strings hung in the two windows, in the living room and dining area.

There was also lunch and my hot chocolate break, but finally LeClerc arrived.

In all the time that I’ve been having stuff delivered, I’ve never ever seen as much as this. There’s no room to put away some of it either so it’s going to have to loiter around for a while. But now I have my chicory, my leeks, my shallots and everything that I need. I might not be ready for Christmas, but I’ll have some phenomenal meals.

Mince pies too, which I’ll make on Sunday, because he brought the puff pastry sheets. And two kilos of carrots and a broccoli, so I’ve been dicing, blanching and freezing this afternoon too. And so on Sunday, there will be broccoli stalk soup for lunch, made with carrot-blanching water.

Tea tonight was a lovely vegan salad with air-fried chips and some of those vegan nuggets, followed by ginger cake and soya dessert. Totally delicious, but I’m looking forward now to my Christmas meal

But the final word tonight goes to my faithful cleaner who went down to the chemist’s for the next month’s medication.
As she was going in, a man was coming out in tears so she asked him what was the matter.
"It’s the doctor" he said. "He told me that I have to take one pill per day for the rest of my life"
"No need to be upset" said my cleaner. "You should come back in with me and see all of the medication that Mr Hall has to take for the rest of his life too, and he’s not complaining or crying."
"Well, he would if he had my doctor" said the man
"Why’s that" asked me cleaner
"Well, " said the man, "the chemist has looked at the prescription and only given me four!"

Tuesday 17th December – MY CHRISTMAS CAKE …

… is absolutely belting. A corner of it bubbled over the mould and broke off so I had to sample it. And if the rest of it is as good as that small part tasted, I shall be more than happy. It really does make a difference mixing the ingredients in the big mixer.

Something else that went very well was last night, going to bed not too late. It was 23:30 and I’d had something of a struggle to keep awake, so I didn’t feel like staying up and idling around. I hit the hay instead.

Not that I could go to sleep though. I spent a good age tossing and turning before I finally dropped off to sleep.

When the alarm went off at 07:00, I was already sitting at my desk working.

It was at something like 05:20 when I awoke this morning. I remember looking at my watch. It seems to be a frequent occurrence following these dialysis sessions, for some reason that I don’t know. I’m not going to tell the doctor at the Dialysis Clinic though because he would probably prescribe some Doliprane.

By 06:00 I’d given up the ghost. Tired of tossing and turning about I arose from the Dead and went into the bathroom for a good clean up.

Into the kitchen for the first instalment of the medication, remembering to take the medication that I can only take on non-dialysis days. If you’re confused about my medication, don’t worry. So am I.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. There was a cricket match and we were playing the Australians. I was batting but down at the bowler’s end. They had a change of bowler, a slow right-arm off-spinner. After he’d bowled two or three balls the batsman took up a new guard so the bowler who was bowling around the wicket decided that he’d go over the wicket. As he ran in, he bent his arm in a really funny way and broke off his run near the wicket, went back to his mark and started again. I thought that this was the most strange and amazing arm action that I’d ever seen so I appealed, thinking that he was more like throwing the ball than bowling, with the aim that they’d examine his action and give a decision. Instead, the Australian skipper took him off and put a fast bowler off. He skittled the tail out for a mere 50 runs, leaving a very low total for his batsmen to try to make. I was questioned as to why I’d allowed this to happen because of my appeal. I replied that it was important to everyone to make sure that this guy’s action was correct and that was all that my intention was, to have his action examined.

There were many times that I felt that I was walking around with a sign “THE BUCK STOPS HERE” suspended over my head. I seemed to be blamed for just about everything that ever happened, even when I was nowhere near the event concerned. I remember my friend’s daughter in Florida chatting to me on the internet once, saying "it’s not fair! Every time I do something wrong my little brother tells my mom and I get yelled at. But if he does something wrong and I tell my mom she yells at me for not watching him!".
"I know, Tina. It was exactly the same with me, and still is even today"

Later on I was at another folk festival where some group performed a famous folk song very slowly with plenty of taste and dignity. It sounded extremely good and I enjoyed listening to it. Then another group took the stage when the other group had hardly left it when they climbed on. They started off with the same number but played it at a much different tempo and changed a few of the words. It became a rowdy, boisterous pub-rocker song but I do have to say that it was in bad taste but it was played immediately as they were still leaving and secondly, because it was made with additional musicians who didn’t belong to the group and were just friends of the leader. Their aim was just to have a good bash at this and it was so disappointing in a way

One of my pet hates is these “special guests” and “orchestras” at concerts accompanying musicians and creating a sound that the musicians themselves are not able to reproduce. I know that I’m in a very tiny minority in this respect but nevertheless I do hate in when we’re in the middle of a thumping good concert and “now we’d like to introduce you to our special guest”.

And then I was with Zero’s father last night. I can’t remember what we were doing but we were talking about different things etc. We ended up watching a film. Suddenly, the ‘phone went and he answered it. He said that we had to go back to his house because his wife and Zero were going out somewhere. We went, and although we set out in the car we ended up walking part of the way down this muddy track that descended into a complete and utter swamp. We were talking about vehicles because I’d been to the local scrapyard and had seen a diesel engine so I’d measured it and found that it would fit into my van. It was a 3.5 diesel from some company or other. I told him that when I change the engine I might even fit that engine in because it would fit. He thought that it was an excellent choice of engine. We began to discuss other engines that we thought might go in. I’d measured a few and found that they would be the correct length. He asked me how come I knew that they would fit so I told him that I’d been down to the scrapyard. I said that in my opinion scrapyards these days are really sad, nothing at all like it used to be when you could roam around for ages over acres of abandoned cars. He replied that people don’t just scrap cars like they used to. Nowadays everyone waits until there is just about one month’s tax left on their car and then sell it. I replied that they must be ending up in the scrapyard after that one month. He answered that the only thing he knew was that his friend bought a big 3.5 Rover for £3500. All he knew was that when his friend came to sell it he asked him (Zero’s father) if he wanted to buy it to which he answered “no” so that was the last that he heard of it. Of course this dream ended a long time before I reached the house to see Zero

Back in that dream later on, I know that it had been Zero’s birthday recently so when the first part of the dream ended I began to think of things that I had around the house or apartment that I could pick up and take with me to give to her but that was how strange this dream was.

In the past I used to have hours of endless fun roaming around scrapyards, bringing back all kinds of useful bits and pieces. Opel Corsa fuseboxes made good control panels for solar arrays, Renault Clio clocks made good timers, loads of different things over the years. And if you were ever short of money you’d go armed with a screwdriver and a couple of spanners, take out the back seats and you’d be surprised at how much money you could collect in a really short time that had fallen out of people’s pockets over the years.

But can you believe it? Not once, but twice I was on my way to see Zero but both times I failed to arrive. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … there is definitely something working in my subconscious that is preventing me from ending up with one of these lovely girls in my arms. We’ve seen it happen so many times now that something or other has gone wrong or someone, usually a member of my family, has come along to put the spanner in the works

As for Zero herself, it’s been years since I saw her and I wonder what she’s doing now. Of course, I have an image in my head of how I think she would be now. And so no-one was more surprised than me when a girl, the exact image of how I imagined Zero to be at the time, walked into a coffee bar in Brussels one afternoon where I was sitting. I was so taken aback that I dropped my coffee cup.

Isabelle the Nurse was late this morning. It’s no surprise, because I have heard of several people who are refusing to have their blood tests and so on done by her oppo and they are all waiting for her to come back on duty.

While she was here, I told her about my appointments in January and she told me that she’d make a note.

After she left I made my breakfast and carried on reading this archaeological report on the excavation of this Gallo-Roman farm near Chartres.

It’s really quite interesting because not only am I learning a lot about the farm, I’m learning a lot of new vocabulary too, and that’s no bad things. There’s a lot that I don’t know in the realm of architecture and building and the easiest way to learn it is to pore over a document like this.

The farm itself is but a few miles from Chartres and the current way of thinking so far is that it was abandoned after Chartres lost its role as a regional capital to the city of Orleans in about 330AD and many people moved from Chartres to Orleans, leading to a decrease in the demand for food in Chartres.

Back in here I finished off my Welsh homework and sent it off. I had it back a short while later marked “brilliant. Keep on going!” which was very nice of my tutor.

Meanwhile, I was making my Christmas cake. It was so complicated and took so long that it didn’t go into the oven until 12:30

Mixing it in the food processor was definitely an improvement on last year. It did a really good job. And lining the cake tin with baking paper seemed to work too.

Just over four hours on a low heat it took to bake and it definitely looks and tastes the part. I have been warned about opening the mould while it’s still warm so I left it in the oven to slowly cool down and the mould won’t be opened until the morning.

From then on, the cake will be cooling in the fridge ready for marzipanning and icing.

My loyal cleaner turned up with the marzipan and icing sugar, bless her, so it’s all systems go. If anyone has a good recipe for Christmas cake icing, let me know.

I’m waiting now for my next LeClerc order because there are a couple of rolls of puff pastry in there. I’m going to make some mince pies at the weekend. So if LeClerc run out of pastry before my order comes, it will be mince pies in ordinary home-made pastry.

After lunch I rang up Paris and told them about the arrangements that I’ve made for my visit.

In fact, I only made it as far as "at the Dialysis Clinic they were doing their planning for January and it seems that Doctor — hasn’t been in touch with them yet …"
And the secretary interrupted me with an "ohh mince!!"

So now I’ve briefed her on the plans, I hope that she remembers this time to contact them and to send me the summons so that I can sort out the taxis.

The rest of the afternoon has been spent dealing with the radio programme that I started on Friday. All of the text is now written but I’m going to review it because it’s like the one that will be broadcast on 3rd January – it’s so complicated that it needs to be read over and amended several times before I’ll be happy with it..

Tea tonight was a taco roll with stuffing, rice and veg followed by ginger cake and soya dessert. Lovely as usual, and there’s plenty of stuffing left over for the leftover curry tomorrow. I need to make some naan dough too. Can’t do without my naan bread.

So tomorrow it’s shower day, washing day and a good cleaning day, ready to see Emilie the Cute Consultant on Thursday if I’m lucky

But while we’re on the subject of cricket … "well, one of us is" – ed … never mind “Johnno and Aggers” and the ‘leg over’ story, my favourite surely has to be the Australian cricketer whose name I forget who came back to the pavilion halfway through the match
He was interviewed by a radio commentator who asked him "how were you out?"
"I was caught having a slash outside the off stump" he replied, not realising that British and Australian slang are two totally different beasts.

Sunday 15th December 2024 – WHEN THE ALARM …

… went off at 08:00 this morning I was already up and about.

That’s the kind of thing that totally defeats the purpose of having a lie in. I mean – it wasn’t as if I was in bed early either. It was about 00:30 when I finally crawled into bed after dictating the radio notes, so with a later start on Sunday it meant 7:30 hours of sleep in principle, but I didn’t even have that

There wasn’t even much to dictate in the way of radio notes either. Just the notes for one programme so it shouldn’t have taken me that long but these days, prevarication seems to be the way forward. I keep meaning to see some professional about the problems that I have with prevarication but I might do that another side.

So once I was in bed, that was that until all of … errr … 07:15 when I awoke, and couldn’t go back to sleep. After a while I thought that there’s no point in wasting time lying here doing nothing when there is so much that I ought to be doing so I rose up and left the bed.

After having a good wash and scrub up I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone but I didn’t get very far when the nurse came. He forgot to ring on the doorbell from downstairs so he took me somewhat by surprise.

We had “words” again this morning. His very first question was "did you sleep well?"

He knows full well that I don’t because he asks it almost every single day and I always tell him that being a very light sleeper I don’t ever sleep well, so I expressed my discontent with his question, to which he took umbrage.

After he left I had my medication and then made breakfast. Taking it over to the dining room table, I could sit and read ISAAC WELD’S BOOK which, regrettably, I have now finished. And I do have to say that his books would be certainly in my Top 10.

He’s now about to leave New York, and boards his ship "without a sigh, and without entertaining the slightest wish to revisit it."

While he was in Bethlehem he was lucky (if that’s correct) to be invited to visit the Women and Girls’ Home. He makes quite a few interesting observations including "Pink ribands are said to be worn as a badge by those who are inclined to marry; however, I observed that all the unmarried women wore them, not excepting those whose age and features seemed to have excluded them from every chance of becoming the votaries of Hymen" … "he means ‘Hypersons’" – ed …

He notes that Long Island is mainly inhabited by the Dutch (New York was a Dutch colony, “New Amsterdam” until the British took it in 1664) who "have inherited all the coldness, reserve, and covetousness of their ancestors".

He continues by saying that "If you do but ask any simple question relative to the neighbouring country, they will eye you with suspicion and evidently strive to disengage themselves from you; widely different from the Anglo-Americans, whose inquisitiveness in similar circumstances would lead them to a thousand impertinent and troublesome enquiries, in order to discover what your business was in that place, and how they could possibly take any advantage of it."

So having learned more from this one book than any thousand others, I’ve now begun to read the report of the investigation of a Gallo-Roman (not Roman) farm near Chartres. And it’s nothing like as interesting as Isaac Weld’s book, which is a shame. And it’s in French too, so there’s not much point in posting any interesting quotes.

Back in here I listened to the dictaphone. We were on an island in the Western Pacific or was it the Eastern Pacific. The Japanese had suddenly declared war and there were all kinds of attacks taking place. We were on this island when the Japanese were beginning to take a foothold on it. The decision was taken to retreat onto an island off the shore of this island where we could be collected and then decide how best to act. We thought that a headlong flight out of the area would mean that we wouldn’t be back for many years. We had to put up some kind of defence. Gradually everyone began to retreat to this island where they were armed, given weapons etc. I was one of the last to leave. As I went downstairs there was one of the boys at the bottom of the stairs. He was telling me to go out of the stairs and to the left. However there was something going on to the right so I went out to the right. He absolutely had an explosion. When I came to the end of the path there was a boy playing on the beach, a small boy. I wondered about what he was doing. However this other boy came down after me and began to give me a huge lecture about not following his commands, everything like that. I told him that he’d better cheer up a little because I was quite able to go down this path and look at what was going on. I thought that he was behaving like the Japanese, just as he happened to say to me that he thought that I was. Having assured myself that it wasn’t a Japanese patrol that was landing, I went off in the other direction. I eventually ended up in the town from where the ferry over to the other island was sailing. There were all kinds of things happening here. I had to walk through the town and all the action. Then I heard one of my colleagues from work being called over the public address system about the lights on his car. I thought that this is the last thing about which anyone needs to worry at the moment, isn’t it? I gradually made my way down towards the docks where I could catch the ferry over to the island where we could all sit and have a think and start again.

Not that there’s much chance of the Japanese attacking these days. Any conflict in the Pacific Islands is likely to come in that area disputed by China, Vietnam, Indonesia and the Philippines, which, I suppose, is the North Pacific. I’m not sure either why one of the boys from school, about whom I have hardly thought in the last 50-odd years, should suddenly appear.

Apart from that, retreating onto a small island is hardly a sound military strategy, unless we are hoping to be evacuated.

There was some thing during the night between someone of a family that was quite well-known, whether he was a military officer or something. While he was searching around in the old libraries he came across a Latin phrase. He thought that this phrase was something really wonderful so he wrote to the College of Heralds to see whether it had been registered as someone’s slogan. On finding that it hadn’t, he announced that he was going to adopt it for his family’s slogan henceforth. He’d have a think about finding some Coat of Arms or other that might be appropriate

It’s a little-known fact that my family has its own slogan nihil expectore in omnibus which means, roughly translated “wait for nothing at all”, although some wag suggested that it means “no spitting on the public transport”

And then a young girl just walked into my room and tucked something under my pillow. She said “that’s the volume for your dream to awaken you”. I looked at her, and couldn’t understand exactly what she meant by that, but she turned on her heel and walked out of the room and left me. I wondered if that was a sign that I was late, that I’d missed the alarm and needed to set the alarm louder to awaken me in te future but I really couldn’t understand that

It’s hardly surprising, is it? I can still in fact see her hand even now sliding something under my pillow so it was something along the same lines as the phantom alarms that we have. But there’s definitely nothing under the pillow.

After the dictaphone we had a footfest. I hadn’t realised that Stranraer had played a midweek game so I had two matches to watch.

The first was away in Edinburgh against Spartans, and Edinburgh seems to be a happy hunting ground for Stranraer because after beating Edinburgh City the other week, they beat Spartans 3-1

That was actually the best that I have ever seen Stranraer play, so it gave some hope for the weekend’s game, the return match against Edinburgh City but they couldn’t build on the success. Once more, they played well but so did Edinburgh City. Neither team managed to break the other down and it finished 0-0.

After lunch I started to edit the radio notes and by the time I finished work it was all complete, 11th track and all. So that’s another hour’s worth to add to the collection.

There were several interruptions, which was why it took so long. The first was for the hot chocolate of course, and then there was bread to make and bake.

The pizza too required attention. I’d taken the last of the frozen dough out of the freezer earlier in the day so I had to knead it, roll it and assemble it.

When the bread came out of the oven the pizza went in and I had another candidate for “best pizza ever”.

So now I’m off to bed ready for the morning, hoping that someone interesting will come to see me during the night.

But talking of Isaac Weld leaving New York … "well, one of us is" – ed … before he left he went into a branch of that chain of places that a British judge agreed “exploit children”, are “culpably responsible for animal cruelty”, “pay low wages” and “pretended to a positive nutritional benefit which their food (high in fat & salt etc) did not match”
And with his quarter-pounder he ordered a beer
"You can’t buy a beer in here" said the burger-flipper
"What?" he exclaimed. "You mean that you’re sober when you eat this mess?"

Tuesday 10th December 2024 – I THINK THAT …

… I must have an araignée au plafond, the way that things are turning out.

There I was, early this morning, thinking that I have sufficient supplies to postpone my next LeClerc delivery until the next weekend.

Then I realised that there would only be a handful of days from then until Christmas.

And then I was thinking “Jeezus H Goddam Bleeding Chri…..estttt” – I have Christmas Cake and Mince Pies to make and I haven’t even begun to think about the Christmas Cake yet, and there’s only two weeks to go!

Yes, I’ve not had my usual reminder, have I? And you know what my memory and my awareness is like!

And it was early this morning too, because when the alarm went off at 07:00, I was already up and about, sitting at my desk working.

Just for a change last night, I was in bed before 23:00. Only just, it has to be said, but even so it’s still worth noting. and I was so tired that I fell asleep almost instantly.

Nothing whatever disturbed me and I slept right the way through until all of … errr … 05:20 when something outside awoke me. No idea what it was but I couldn’t go back to sleep so round about 06:20 I gave it up as a bad job and left the bed.

In the bathroom I had a good wash and scrub up and then went into the kitchen for a drink and to take my medicine

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was back driving taxis around Crewe again last night. It was a wet, rainy winter night and we were quite busy. I had two girls driving on the shift with me. I was running around quite well. I went to pick up a fare at one of the clubs. There was a meeting there just turning out and there were loads of people there. One couple were friends of mine and they asked me if I could sort them a taxi. I radioed into base and arranged for someone to go to pick them up. I carried on driving, and at one stage someone paid me £5:00 so I had that on top of the pile with a piece of paper over it. I carried on driving through the night and came back home again when the shift was finished. The two girls were in there cashing up. I noticed from the sheets that the passengers who had asked me to find them someone had not only been picked up by one of these girls but a return journey back home had taken place too. I thought that that was a pretty good trip. We were just sorting through a few things and it turned out that some young boy from the hospital had not been entered into the sheets. He’d started today and as a result someone was really late going for him and really late picking him up. It ended up with the police coming round to find out about what was going on. They had three particular complaints with which to deal about this. Of course I had to try to think about how this might have happened and what we were going to do about it for the future

These days I seem to be spending a lot of time driving taxis during the night. The last time I actually drove one for real was in 1989 but then in Brussels I spent until 2004 driving my boss around in a limousine. Early retirement at 50 was offered and as I couldn’t see myself driving a C15 around Brussels delivering the office mail (we were taken out of the front line at 50) I took what was on offer and headed off for pastures new. Even so, I still find it hard to understand why I seem to spend so much of my sleeping hours behind the wheel of a taxi.

Plenty of time before the nurse arrives so I spent it working on my Jersey page but I didn’t go very far because he was early today

There were the usual patronising remarks that really irritate me but he was soon gone and I could go to prepare my breakfast.

And to read ISAAC WELD’S BOOK too.

He’s continuing his stay with the First-Nation people and is pouring out his thoughtful observations, many of which have yet to come into the common consciousness of some people even today.

He tells us inter alia that "Le P. Charlevoix observes, that the Indians seem to him to possess many personal advantages over us; their senses, in particular, he thinks much finer than ours"

He also says that "the Indians have most retentive memories ; they will preserve to their deaths a recollection of any place they have once passed through; they never forget a face that they have attentively observed but for a few seconds ; at the end of many years they will repeat every sentence of the speeches that have been delivered by different individuals in a public assembly; and has any speech been made in the council house of the nation, particularly deserving of remembrance, it will be handed down with the utmost accuracy from one generation to another, though perfectly ignorant of the use of hieroglyphicks and letters"

On the subject of their memory and power of recall he tells us "A party of Indians that were passing on to some of the seaports on the Atlantic … were observed, ail on a sudden to quit the straight road by which they were proceeding, and without asking any questions to strike through the woods in a direct line to one of these graves, which lay at the distance of some miles from the road. Now very near a century must have passed over since the part of Virginia, in which this grave was situated had been inhabited by Indians; and these Indian travellers, who went to visit it by themselves, had, unquestionably, never been in that part of the country before; they must have found their way to it simply from the description of its situation that had been handed down to them by tradition."

This part of the book is probably the most interesting, not only because if talks so much about the lifestyle and behaviour of the First-Nation and Native American people, but also because he pulls no punches in his criticism of the Europeans who have corrupted the morals of the native people.

Back in here I revised my Welsh and then went to the lesson. Today, it was rather like the curate’s egg – “good and bad in parts”.

After lunch I decided that it was time for direct action.

First thing that I did was to make some dough for bread as I have now run out

Second, and most important thing, was to check the supplies for making my Christmas Cake.

Having decided that I have almost everything, I sorted out all of the dried fruit and put it in to soak. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that in the Bulk Barn in Fredericton two years ago I found some brandy essence and rum essence. It’s not available here as everyone uses the real stuff, so I loaded up and brought it back in my suitcase. I made a marinade with some of it, mixed with vanilla and orange essence and water, poured it over the fruit, mixed it in and it’s now in the fridge soaking.

Next Tuesday I’ll have to bake my cake. Last year I left my dried fruit marinating for a month, so I wonder if a week is going to be good enough

As for marzipan and icing sugar, I shall have to rely on my faithful cleaner at the shops next Tuesday morning. What a state to be in, hey?

My dough rose really well today, which was good news, and it cooked well in the air fryer. What I’m doing now is baking it just halfway and then turning it over for the other half. That seems to do the trick. All I need to do is to work out how to turn a cake over in mid-bake.

After the hot chocolate I came back in here and chose the music for the next radio programme, paired it off and segued it. Tomorrow I’ll write the notes for it, but I have a lot going on so I’ll see where I fetch up.

On the subject of my moaning about this stabbing pain, I’ve been summoned next Monday to the Imagerie Department of the hospital. No idea what they are going to X-Ray but I hope that it’s for this foot. It’s not unlikely that they may find something that is the cause of these mobility issues that I have. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Another thing that I have done is to address an e-mail to the agents of this building, about the defective handrail outside my door. After all, I don’t want to go head-over-heels down the stairs and me casser à la margoulette

Tea tonight was a lovely taco roll with rice and veg, followed by vegan ginger cake and soya dessert. Yet another simple but delicious meal. I definitely eat quite well around here.

So now I’m off to bed ready for a good start tomorrow, fighting fit and full of beans – I don’t think.

But while we’re on the subject of Native American memory and recall … "well, one of us is" – ed … Isaac Weld has first-hand experience of that.
At the start of his journey, he landed in Philadelphia where he was first informed of this ability, so he decided to put it to the test. He asked the first native American he met "what did you have for breakfast on the day that the Revolutionary War broke out 18 years ago?"
"Eggs" replied the Native American
So, suitably impressed, Weld set off on his marathon journey and for three years he travelled around the Continent of North America.
Back in Philadelphia three years later, he went to find his ship to go back to Ireland, and there standing on the quayside was a group of Native Americans.
Being friendly, Weld went up to them, raised his right hand in salute and said "how?" in greeting, like you do
One of the natives replied "scrambled"

Sunday 1st December 2024 – MY CAULIFLOWER STALK …

… and broccoli stalk soup at lunchtime was absolutely delicious. I made myself a bread roll to dip in it too, and baked in the air fryer, it was perfection too. All in all it was one of the best lunches that I have ever eaten.

It’s the period of winter veg at LeClerc and so with broccoli and cauliflower being sold at giveaway prices, it’s too good to turn down

In fact, it’s been a good day today. And it started last night when I actually made it into bed at 23:45. Not 23:00 I know, but with it being a Sunday, there’s a lie-in until 08:00.

But at 08:00 I was actually up and about, working away at my desk in here. Something had awoken me from at 06:00 while I was in one of the deepest sleeps that I’ve had for ages. I’ve no idea what it was but I couldn’t go back to sleep afterwards. And by the time that 06:45 came round I’d given up and left the bed.

After I’d washed I came back in here and checked the dictaphone to see if I’d been anywhere during the night. There was something to do with a rock group and the young girl who was in it. She was attacked at some point by some kind of unearthly being. I’ve no idea why that should be but it was certainly the case.

We had a rock group yesterday, if I remember correctly. And a few days ago, we had a girl attacked by some kind of extra-terrestrial being. We seem to be doing a lot of repeating these days.

Then there was a Secret Service operation going on in London to do with the Russian embassy. They had to find a certain vehicle, break into it and steal some papers but they didn’t know exactly how they were going to do this. They knew that it was in some kind of code so they took with them one of Britain’s leading Civil Service codebreaker people. He was a very scared, elderly gentleman who was most uncomfortable as they were roaming around London looking for this keyword or whatever. They were surprised while they were searching somewhere and this elderly gentleman ended up stabbing someone. Of course that made him really panic. They had to try to restrain him and keep him with them even though he was ready to run at any moment. When someone came round, the caretaker of this building to find out what the noise had been, this elderly gentleman said “oh, I hear my ‘phone ringing” and ran away as fast as he could. Of course there was no way that these two people could stop him. They ended up roaming around this certain area in London on their own. They were looking at this shop that had closed down, some kind of vegan restaurant or shop, looking at all the adverts plastered everywhere all over it. There were four adverts for something or other but there stuck in the corner of one of the adverts was something like “Ron’s Taxis 5150”. That immediately gave them a clue because this taxi sticker wasn’t on any of the other three posters. It had something to do with the vehicle 515 or 5150 so they set off to wander around thinking that the ‘phone sticker advertising this taxi service was to do with the vehicle. They hadn’t yet figured out that at some stage they were going to see a taxi vehicle with the registration number RON 515 or RON 5150 that I’d figured out but they were wandering around London, something like that, when the dream evaporated

Codebreaking now in my dreams? It’s certainly impressive. Is there no end to my nocturnal skills? As I have said before, … "and on many occasions too" – ed … if only I had had in my life someone who was capable of harnessing all of these hidden talents that I must have buried deep within me.

The nurse was early yet again and he didn’t hang about long this time. That suited me fine and I could make my breakfast and carry on reading ISAAC WELD’S BOOK.

He’s now In the city of Québec, having left Montréal, and he’s just as enamoured of the city as I was. He tells us that "I must not conclude this letter without making mention of the fcenery that is exhibited to the view, from various parts of the upper town of Quebec, which, for its grandeur, its beauty, and its diverfity, furpafles all that I have hitherto feen in America, or indeed in any other part of the globe." and I cannot disagree.

He’s really in his element here, in fact. He’s given me a fascinating description of Wolfe’s storming of the Heights of Abraham and an excellent lecture on how Montcalm should have organised his defence to prevent his army and the city being overrun.

He’s also given us a lecture on the manufacture of sugar from maple syrup and how he would do it on a large scale and on a commercial basis, even calculating how much profit he would make per acre.

In fact, he’s given so many lectures and seems to be an expert on so many things that, when he said a few days ago that "A rational and agreeable companion, to whom you might communicate the refult of your obfervations, and with whom you might interchange fentiments on all occafions, could not but be deemed a pleafing acquisition,’", I would have been the first to volunteer to go with him. The two of us would have been experts on just about everything, boring the pants off just about everyone else whom we met.

Much of my free time was spent editing the radio notes that I’d dictated last night. I now hove two more programmes to add to the pile but I still can’t afford to relax. I have a lot to do and a short time to do it.

Stranraer were at home from a team way down the pyramid in the Scottish Cup. Although they played well and had a great deal of possession, and even though they hit the woodwork on a couple of occasions, they only scored one goal. Their opponents, Broxburn, just had two shots on target so you can guess the final score without too much effort.

This really was the nadir of Stranraer’s season to date.

It took quite a while to make my broccoli stalk and cauliflower stalk soup at lunchtime. It involved

one large onion
two cloves of garlic
one medium-sized potato
a broccoli stalk
a cauliflower stalk
cumin
coriander
marjoram
chives
chervil
half a litre of the water that you saved from the blanching of the carrots, broccoli and cauliflower on Saturday
vegetable stock cube
soya cream
fresh ground black pepper

chop and fry the onion until soft
chop the broccoli stalk, cauliflower stalk, garlic and potatoes into very tiny pieces and add them to the onion
add the herbs and spices
fry them for about 10-15 minutes
add enough water to cover the vegetables
add the stock cube and let everything simmer for 15 minutes
when everything is mushy, whizz it all up, adding the soya cream as you do so
serve with fresh ground pepper and fresh bread roll

There was pizza dough to make later on, and also a cake. This week I chose a ginger cake seeing as I had some fresh ginger on hand, and together with some desiccated coconut, coconut oil and orange flavouring, it smells delicious

Tonight’s pizza was one of the best that I have ever made too, and that’s good news because one or two just recently seem to have gone off the boil somewhat.

All in all it seems to have been a very good day for baking and making. There’s plenty of food on hand now to keep me going for a while.

Tomorrow I have my Welsh homework to finish off and then I’m off to dialysis – more agony and pain. I suppose that I’d better hurry up and go to bed to prepare myself.

But before I go, General Wolfe, who led the British Army to victory on the Heights of Abraham, was killed on the battlefield just as the victory was won. And there used to be an obelisk making the spot.
When I was there once though, a helpful local, and a very vocal local yokel at that too, told me that members of the Québec Libre – the Québec Separationists – sent it back to the UK
"Surely it was far, far too big to go in the post" I said
"Indeed it was" said the helpful local "but you’ll be amazed at the velocity released by 100 kilos of dynamite."

Tuesday 12th November 2024 – I HAVE FINISHED …

… this radio programme that has been hanging around my neck like a perishing albatross for over a week.

In the end, I made a selection of tracks that were something like, and some judicious editing of the applause and the speech from the stage finally brought it all down to one minute and twenty seconds over. And the rest, I had to hack about a bit and I eventually managed to shoehorn it into a programme of one hour.

It’s currently turning around on the playlist and I do have to say that it works quite well

Something else that worked quite well was my sleep last night. After I’d finished everything that I needed to do, it was long after bedtime but nevertheless it was the best that I could do. And the good thing about it is that I can’t remember awakening at all.

Having said that, I awoke with a start at about 06:30 and couldn’t go back to sleep. When the alarm went off I was sitting on the edge of the bed already, so this will class as an early start

In the bathroom I had a good wash and scrub up, and then came in here to deal with the dictaphone notes. For a short moment I was with Percy Penguin last night. When she climbed into the van she told me that she had something to tell me. She wanted to finish our relationship. One of the reasons that she gave me was that she didn’t like my choice of music which was fair enough, I suppose. For a change she seemed to be quite confident and quite sure of what she wanted to do. That’s not like her at all. In some ways I admired what she said. It goes without saying that I was disappointed but life is full of disappointments, isn’t it? You just have to become used to them

It’s been a while since Percy Penguin has put in an appearance, so welcome back to you. She was a very simple, uncomplicated girl and when I was going through a very bad patch she was the only one who ever gave me any support. In fact she was the only one who ever listened to me when I wanted to talk. She herself had been dealt a terrible hand by the fates but she just drifted through life, tossed about on the currents and never seemed to care at all. She just carried on as best as she could with whatever came her way.

Later on I was in London. I’d been listening to someone talking, a very kind-of unkempt fellow, saying that he’d been living on the streets and had no home but had been appointed leader of a playgroup in Central London. He’d been on some kind of trip to see some kind of concert. He’d been so many days without sleep but he’d come back into work – gone straight to work thinking that when things quietened down he’d take a sleeping pill but by that time he was far too irritable and touchy to have thought about the sleeping pill and went the whole day without it. This playgroup bewildered me. I was actually in Central London at the time and had a rough idea of where it might be. I walked out of my hotel down the road. There was a pub on the corner called “The Brewery”. I turned round and was in the Cathedral precincts. I walked up past the Cathedral but I couldn’t see this other church anywhere. After I’d had a good look around, I decided that I’d walk back. First thing that I noticed was some old guy. He was picking things up off the streets so I thought “homeless person, I suppose”. I thought “there really are some people who are down on their luck if they are having to pick discarded clothing etc up off the streets”

This dream doesn’t seem to have any significance at all as far as I can tell. I can still see the pub and the cathedral precincts but I can’t recognise them from anywhere that I’ve been, either in my sleep or when I’ve been awake.

The nurse came early today, and we had the usual inane, patronising comments that get on my nerves so much. I suppose that I’ll have to stop moaning and deal with it. It doesn’t look as if it’s going to go away any time soon.

After he left I made breakfast and carried on reading the story of Samuel Hearne. Today, he’s on his second attempt to reach the Coppermine River and has just had an encounter with a group of Northern First Nation people who promptly relieved him of everything that he carried that was of any use to them, so now he’s on his way back to the fort on the shores of Hudson’s Bay

Third time lucky, heh?

We had a meeting here today at 10:00 – one that we should have had on Friday had it not been for the complications surrounding that hospital appointment.

It was concerning the radio, and a couple of people from the Admin and the Local Council came for a chat to see how everything was with me, which was quite nice of them

As a result, I was late going for my Welsh class. But what I did there and for how much I missed, I did quite well yet again. It’s becoming a habit and I hope that it keeps up.

After lunch I waded into the radio programme.

Once I’d remembered how to deal with arrays, things went so much better with the little program that I was trying although there were several shortcomings with it and I shall have to tweak it some more whenever I have time, whenever that might be.

The radio programme is now up and running satisfactorily so tomorrow I’m going to make a start on the second one of this series. So God help me!

Tea tonight was a taco roll with some more of the refried beans, tomato and mushrooms. Had it been more spicy it would have reminded me of my stay in Santa Fe in Arizona twenty-odd years ago when I had the Mustang convertible.

THAT WAS A TRIP AND A HALF – through the deserts of the Southern USA and then back through the Rockies – even driving up to the top of Pike’s Peak, all 14,000_odd feet of it.

All the time that I had the Mustang, the top never came down. Even when it was snowing up in the Rockies. After all, if you’re going to have a convertible with the top up, you may as well have had a saloon car.

So having finished my notes, I have a few things to do and then I’m off to bed for another good sleep (I hope).

But one thing that Samuel Hearne might have said in is book about the First Nation peoples was that they made a great deal of use of the plant that is known by people in Eastern Canada as “Labrador Tea”. They dry it and drink buckets of it.
Hearne was telling his boss in the fort about the time that he and his band were camped by the side of a lake and his guide, having drunk so much tea that he could hardly stand, crawled off to his bed instead of leading the expedition
"Did you find him next morning" asked his boss "and give him a good talking-to?"
"We found him" said Hearne "but it was far too late by then"
"What do you mean?" asked his boss
"We found him all right" said Hearne "but during the night he had drowned in his teepee"

Friday 8th November 2024 – WHAT A HORRIBLE …

… day I’ve had today. I’ve done nothing, accomplished nothing, have loads of things that I need to do and I’m going to be here until eternity just doing the most urgent things that I have to do..

And it all started off so well too. Even though I wasn’t in bed at 23:00, it was something quite like it – not a horribly late night like some have been.

Furthermore, although I wasn’t asleep quite quickly, once I’d dropped off, there I stayed for quite some considerable while. There was the odd awakening here and there but nothing that particularly kept me awake.

However, once I was awake at about 06:00, then awake I stayed and nothing at all would induce me to go back to sleep. So when the alarm went off at 07:00 I was already up and about.

In a departure from usual tradition, I went and took my medicine straight after washing. Usually, the medication is taken at breakfast but I have a feeling that I’ll be struggling for time a little later.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. We were discussing radio programmes again. There was something to do with a famous star who owned a Triumph Herald. An interviewer had been talking to me about interviewing him. Then there was a change and we found ourselves on the Orient Express heading deep into what was formerly the USSR. I was on there in an ordinary carriage with someone else. The train was packed. We were coming into a village where we were going to change locomotive, which meant that we would be not moving for a good few minutes. I knew this village, and knew that there was a really first-rate ethnic Indian restaurant right by the station. I told the guy with me about it. We agreed that we’d take a risk and go there while the train was stopped. As the train was pulling into the station we left our seats and ran the whole length of the train. When we came to the sleeping cars we were told that there was no room in there. The train was crowded, which we knew but we took no notice and pressed on right to the front. When the train stopped we nipped out of the station and found this little café but it was now a big restaurant. There were loads of people there and it was really busy. It was quite upmarket, and it wasn’t what I was expecting at all and neither was my friend, but here we were. The first thing that I did was to grab a plate of something or other to take with me to the table because I could see how busy it was. There was a decent possibility here that we would never be served and have our meal by the time that the train is ready to leave. At least I wanted to eat something while I was here. I was really disappointed by this famous little Indian café place being no longer here and all the delicious hot food had gone – “hot” in both senses of the word of course.

This dream reminds me of that little Indian café that I found out in the Côte Vertu in Montréal. It really was nice and I went back there time after time. Going back in 2022 for the first time since 2019 I found that it had been enlarged and wasn’t quite the same, and neither did it have the same level of intimacy, as the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine might have said. The food was still excellent though.

There was something really bitty next. First of all I was round at a friend’s girlfriend’s house, somewhere where a group of us went quite often. I actually bought a jar of coffee to give to the mother to thank her for all the time that she’d made coffee for us. But somewhere along the line I had a new house, a brand-new solid front door and I was busy measuring it up to fit security bolts in it. But it was winter and I didn’t really feel like opening the door and working just there then with how cold it was outside.

There was actually a girl who lived near me in my adolescence who was the girlfriend of a friend, and it was pretty much open house. Any one could come round and visit, and several people made new acquaintances there. In fact, I made a little friend there who was my companion for a couple of months. However everything fell apart when my friend discovered that his girlfriend had become much too friendly with another one of the visitors.

Isabelle the nurse was late coming around this morning – swamped with blood tests as the laboratory is closed on Monday and no-one wants them done on Tuesday, for reasons that I have either mentioned or implied.

She didn’t hang around and was soon gone, leaving me to make breakfast in peace.

That thesis on the Border Marches has gone the Way of the West now. I think that we reached rock-bottom when our author described “Rhuddlan Castle, in Cheshire, right on the border with Wales”. Although it was in part of the lands that was administered by the Earl of Chester and so can be called “in Cheshire” at a pinch, it’s well over be border, almost half-way to Anglesey and the only way of supplying it was up the River Clwyd from the sea because the overland route was in the hands of the Welsh.

Having finished that I made a start on the history of Samuel Hearne’s famous trek to Coppermine on the northern coast of Canada where had he done the trek in 2019 Castor and I would have been there to him.

However I didn’t read much because the taxi came early for me. I hadn’t even finished my breakfast which was a shame.

At the hospital, with all of the renovations going on, we had the devil’s own job to find the radiography area, and then I was abandoned.

It didn’t take too long for them to come to see me and I was in and out of the machine in five minutes. I didn’t even have to undress or take off my shoes, which was strange if they wanted to look at my foot.

They pushed me outside where I had to wait for the taxi. And wait. And wait. One hour and twenty minutes in total, and there were two other passengers in the car so I went on a sightseeing tour all round Southern Normandy. 12:35 when I made it finally back home.

Mind you, once more I excelled myself. My faithful cleaner stood and watched in awe as I climbed all 25 steps up to here yet again.

After she left I warmed up the remains of my breakfast and finally managed to eat it.

The next task was to complete my order for LeClerc and send it off. It’s a cheap order this week as I have much of the stuff in stock, but olive oil is on special offer again so that helped bulk it up

My cleaner came round to do her stuff and we sorted out the medication, disposing of a load of stuff that’s no longer in use. It’s gone into a bag in the corner, not thrown away, because what’s the betting that sooner or later another prescription will bring it out?

Then I came in here to deal with the radio programme. I’ve paired off the music and segued it, and even made a good start on the notes but Rosemary rang me for a chat. But I had to abort that because the delivery came from LeClerc and I had to put away the frozen stuff

Having done that, I called Rosemary back and we had another one of our marathon sessions that went on for quite a while, and I forgot to check the time.

It wasn’t far short of tea time though, and only just enough time to put away the chilled stuff. The rest will have to wait until tomorrow, although with a session at the Dialysis Clinic, a football match to watch and some radio notes to finish, I’m not sure exactly when tomorrow it will be.

Tea was a handful of those mini-nuggets with chips and a vegan salad, followed by spicy ginger cake and soya dessert. Really nice too.

That was followed by starting to make more bread. You can see that my day is a long way from finishing. Blimey! What a day! And it’s not going to improve any either. And I’ve not had even one sip of coffee today either.

But a strange thing happened at the hospital just now. A nun came rushing out of the doctor’s room in tears.
A few minutes later the doctor came out so I asked him "what’s the matter with her?"
"I’ve just told her that she’s pregnant" said the doctor
"Blimey!" I exclaimed. "Is she?"
"Ohh no" replied the doctor "but I think that I’ve cured her hiccoughs"

Tuesday 5th November 2024 – A FEW YEARS AGO …

… I was given the sack for letting the Bonfire Night fireworks off in the wrong sequence.

In their opinion, it was bang out of order.

But that’s enough frivolity for the moment. Let us return to more serious matters

Last night I might not have been in bed by my preferred time, but it wasn’t far off it. But from having gone from “way beyond” a few months ago to a spell of a couple of weeks where I was “quite early” I seem to be creeping up and up again.

Once in bed, it took an age to go to sleep and that’s something that I’ve noticed after a dialysis session. It’s usually quite late by the time that I’m tired enough to sleep and going to bed early doesn’t change that at all.

And once I was asleep, I was awake again at 02:30, again at about 04:00 and a third time at about 06:00.

At that time I didn’t go back to sleep so in the end I gave it up as a bad job and when the alarm did go off at 07:00 I was already up and about.

That was just as well because I’d forgotten to finish my Welsh homework and send it off so with an extra half-hour of the morning to play with, once I’d finished washing and dressing I put the extra time to good use.

Mind you, I wish that I hadn’t because as soon as I pressed “send” I realised that I’d made a couple of silly errors and I wished that I could unsend it. But too late now.

Next task was to listen to the dictaphone to see where I’d been during the night. And to my surprise there was some stuff on there. I had one of the chauffeurs from the ambulance company in here last night. He was talking about LeClerc and their on-line orders, people making joint efforts to order so that they could keep their delivery charges down etc. Then it was time for him to go back to work. He looked to make himself a quick sandwich and pulled out a slice of roast beef or something from his lunch box. He looked at it and asked “is it OK to eat this if it’s a little …”, then gave a noise like “uuggh” and threw it in my paper bin right at my feet. I told him that if the meat is off, go go to fetch a pie from the pie shop around the corner in Elm Drive. So he went off, but that piece of meat in my paper bin – ohh it smelt horrible and I can still smell it now.

And as a matter of fact I could smell it too – and see this slimy piece of brown rancid meat. But judging by the directions, I must have been living in that little flat at the back of the High School in Crewe, just off Middlewich Street to where we were all decanted after the house in which we were squatting was declared insalubrious. Ohh happy days!

Later on I’d been having a huge row with Crewe and Nantwich Borough Council yet again. There were two important bills that needed to be paid. They weren’t very big amounts but I was in dispute with them about it. They were insistent and were planning to take all kinds of action if I didn’t pay up. They sent me some copies of some newspaper articles that they intended to have published in this respect so I thought rather reluctantly I’d better pay the money and I can always continue the argument afterwards. In the meantime I put my house up for sale and the one that I had in Sandbach I also put up for sale on the grounds that whichever one sold I could move into the other. That was bound to cause a few complications for some people but I was beyond caring at this point.

Back in those days I had plenty of rows with the local council over all kinds of things and for being in breach of an Enforcement Order I was being fined a total of £1:00 per day for several years. Everyone wondered why I continued with the dispute and let the fines rack up but I knew something that no-one else knew. That is, to have complied with the Enforcement Order would have cost me a minimum of £25:00 per week, and much more than that too when variable costs are taken into consideration. So £7:00 per week was an absolute bargain and it could go on for as long as it liked. And I wish that I did have a house in Sandbach too. That would have been interesting. The council there was much more compliant.

There was another issue too about some people whom we knew. One of my friends was telling me that they had to go to stay at the home of the parents of one of them while the parents were away. There wouldn’t be any problem because the living room was far enough away from the bedrooms that they weren’t going to make any big issues. They’d have the chance to see their cats again because their parents were looking after the cats while they were also having huge housing issues. I said that it would be nice for them to see their cats again. He replied “yes. They might not ever get to see them again after that” which took me by surprise. He also said that if someone gets in contact with you, tell them that they won’t be going tomorrow at 15:00. I couldn’t understand the meaning behind that either.

Dreaming about cats is making me wish that things would hurry up and my tenant would move out from the apartment downstairs. Apart from a shower and a revised kitchen, a cat is something else that I’m also going to have

The nurse was late today. And she didn’t have time to stop and chat. Not that any of that surprises me in the slightest. It seems that every patient on this circuit is now postponing blood tests and injections until she’s on duty. I wonder how long it will be before both of them “get the message”. And what will happen then?

Breakfast came next, and reading this thesis. Our American friend is still being bewildered by events and incidents that are strange to him but perfectly normal to a European. “Why didn’t William invade and crush the Welsh?” is a perpetual theme of his thesis, being totally unable to grasp or to comprehend that it’s only Americans who have this horrible feeling of vengeance for every blow, no matter how small, that is struck against them. The rest of the World simply brush it off and carry on as normal.

He’s also puzzled about the Domesday Book’s description of “waste” in the east of Cheshire. “If the Welsh reached that far and destroyed it, how come they didn’t lay waste land much nearer the border in the West?”.

The answer is that it wasn’t the Welsh who laid it waste. William the Conqueror had had difficulty in pacifying the northern part of his realm so in 1069 he began what is called “the harrying of the North” and destroyed anything and everything in his way. And as what is today Cumbria and Northumberland were not part of England at the time, “the North” was much further South than it would otherwise be today. Consequently it’s likely that the eastern part of Cheshire was destroyed by William during his campaign of 1069-1070.

One of William’s chroniclers wrote "The King stopped at nothing to hunt his enemies. He cut down many people and destroyed homes and land. Nowhere else had he shown such cruelty. To his shame, William made no effort to control his fury, punishing the innocent with the guilty. He ordered that crops and herds, tools and food be burned to ashes. More than 100,000 people perished of starvation. I have often praised William in this book, but I can say nothing good about this brutal slaughter. God will punish him."

Back in here I revised for my Welsh lesson and then went to class. It was another one of these that seemed to pass off quite well and I seem to be slowly coming to terms with it. But still, with this teflon brain that I have, nothing at all is sticking to it.

After lunch I attacked the radio programme for which I’d begun to write some notes. And by the time that I’d knocked off for tea I’d finished all of it.

For this one, I don’t know how it’s all going to fit in so I’ve chosen more than the usual number of tracks, notwithstanding the fact that some are much longer than the usual, and I’ve written text for each one. I’ll dictate it all too, pin the speech to each track and then select what I need to make an hour’s worth of programme.

As if I don’t make things complicated enough.

My faithful cleaner stuck her head in at the door. She brought the mail and also the cheese for future supplies of pizza. It’s a good job that she goes to LeClerc every week because there’s a lot of stuff that I need that they sell but don’t deliver.

Tea tonight was more refried beans and salad in a taco roll with rice and veg, followed by lumps of ginger cake and soya cream. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … the cake may well be a failure but it’s still tasty.

So having done that, there are things that I need to do and then I’m off to bed. Tomorrow there’s a radio programme to assemble. I dictated the notes on Saturday night but I haven’t edited them yet. If I can do that and then make a start on the next programme I’ll be back on track, which will be nice.

But seeing as we have been talking about fireworks … "well, one of us has" – ed … and it’s Guy Fawkes night, someone asked me "How many Health and Safety Inspectors does it take to light a firework?"
"I don’t know" I replied. "How many Health and Safety Inspectors does it take?"
"Four" she replied
"Four?" I asked. "How come?"
"It’s easy" she answered. "One to light the firework, one to ‘phone the fire brigade and two to work the fire extinguishers"

EPIC HALL

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

Tag Archives: early start

Sunday 19th January 2025 – I HAVE HAD …

Sunday 5th January 2025 – DID YOU ALL ..

Sunday 29th December 2024 – I HAVE BEEN …

Thursday 26th December 2024 – MY CHRISTMAS PUDDING …

Tuesday 24th December … TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE …

Sunday 22nd December 2024 – I SOMETIMES WONDER …

Saturday 21st December 2024 – JUST FOR A …

Friday 20th December 2024 – WHEN THE ALARM …

Tuesday 17th December – MY CHRISTMAS CAKE …

Sunday 15th December 2024 – WHEN THE ALARM …

Tuesday 10th December 2024 – I THINK THAT …

Sunday 1st December 2024 – MY CAULIFLOWER STALK …

Tuesday 12th November 2024 – I HAVE FINISHED …

Friday 8th November 2024 – WHAT A HORRIBLE …

Tuesday 5th November 2024 – A FEW YEARS AGO …

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