Tag Archives: early start

Saturday 11th April 2026 – THIS IS RIDICULOUS!

Most of the day has been spent fighting off wave after wave of sleep, quite often unsuccessfully.

Anyone would think that I wasn’t in bed by 21:30 last night with all of this, but it’s true that I was. Once again, tea last night was just chocolate cake and home-made ice cream, and then I came back in here to write up my notes.

Once my notes were finished, there were the other usual things to do, and then I went into the bathroom to sort myself out ready for bed. As I slid under the quilt later, it was just 21:28, and that made me feel so much better.

It didn’t take long to go to sleep either, and there I stayed, flat out until all of … errr … 03:20. Mind you, that’s almost six hours of continuous sleep and I was happy with that. I even managed to go back to sleep a little later too.

When I awoke again, it was 05:23 exactly. I hung around in bed for a while and then raised myself from the Dead to go to walk the parapet.

Back in here afterwards, in a fit of keenness, I dictated a pile of outstanding radio notes. However, I had this very dry throat, which seems to be a symptom of one of these new pills that Emilie the Cute Consultant prescribed for me, so I binned what I had dictated, went into the kitchen to gargle with some water, and then came back in here to start the dictation again.

By the time that the alarm went off at 06:29, I’d dictated the notes for four “additional tracks” and also the notes for a concert to replace those that I had discarded yesterday.

The next stop was the bathroom, where I had a good scrub-up and then went into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication.

Back in here, fighting off the first of many waves of sleep, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what had happened during the night. But first, I had to find the dictaphone. Eventually, I came across it underneath the little bedside table at the head of the bed. It looks as if I’d missed my aim after I’d finished dictating something and had been presumably trying to put it on the table where it lives during the night.

There was some kind of new society or something like that which was created. It had all kinds of different social rules with the aim of people living together more happily than they seem to do at the moment under the current system. One of the surprising things about this was that they had “sock hand grenades”, you stuck a brick down the end of a sock and you would wield it around as a weapon and challenge other people in your society to a duel with these sock hand grenades. When these socks weren’t in use, they were hung over what looked like a horse hitching rail that you see outside saloons in Westerns, something like that.

It beats me how people can live together more happily together when they are clouting the living daylights out of each other with bricks stuffed down socks. But bricks or stones stuffed down socks made an effective blackjack during the war when you wanted to remove a sentry from his post without alerting his colleagues. You could have a nice swing from short range if you were to hold the open end of the sock, that’s for sure.

There had been a new artificial intelligence encyclopedia opened on the computer. But this time, instead of people making contributions to the meaning, people would suggest a word and the computer would work out the meaning and insert it. The plan was that people would only request words when they were actually working on a topic that included it. But some of these definitions were not very accurate at all and of course, people were not happy. However, it became quite quickly some kind of established way of job hunting, and people would look for new jobs on this system. Apparently, the keywords were something like “I want to push myself further on”. But this program actually was liked from that point of view.

We’d been talking about artificial intelligence yesterday evening and the rather variable quality of some translators, so that will explain this dream. But it’s true that many of these translators do leave something to be desired. They haven’t been perfected yet.

The nurse turned up, rather later than usual this morning, which is not like him. He didn’t have much to say for himself and was soon back out on his rounds. I could then go to make breakfast and read some more of THE CELT, THE ROMAN and THE SAXON by Thomas Wright.

Today’s highlights include "the barrows and other monuments of this island, which we are accustomed to attribute to the Druids, belong, not to the earlier Celtic population, but to the later settlers". Seeing as the arrival of the Celtic people is generally dated to the period 100 BC – 0 BC, he’s putting all of these Neolithic (4000 BC to 2200 BC, give or take a bit) barrows and monuments such as Stonehenge and Avebury towards being at least contemporary with the Roman occupation of Britain, if not closer to our own time.

That was bad enough, but I really and honestly did groan with dismay when discussing cave-dwellers, whom these days we associate with the Old Stone Age of 10,000 years ago, and I read his "these caves … were probably inhabited in the times of the Roman rule,"

Back here eventually, after fighting off a few waves of sleep at the breakfast table, I had a few things to do, and then I began to edit the radio programmes. However, it wasn’t long before a wave of sleep caught up with me yet again. Wave after wave, in fact, and at one point I fell asleep at about 12:00 and didn’t awaken until the girls came and rang the doorbell at 13:30. If they hadn’t, I’d probably still be asleep even now.

We had a good chat, catching up on old times, until they went out at about 15:30 to take some photographs. I came back in here to carry on … "and to sleep" – ed … until they came back again a little later, and our discussion continued.

After they left, I made the next batch of homemade croissants, and they are now ready for baking tomorrow morning, and then I came back in here to carry on. However, once more, I fell asleep. And there I stayed until teatime, which is ridiculous.

Tea tonight was, as usual, just chocolate cake and vegan ice cream. But I am starting to feel hungry again. I’m going to try to hold out until at least Monday night after dialysis, to see what happens there, and then I might slowly begin to reintroduce more food into my routine.

But not right now, though. I’m going to have another early night and then … "he hopes" – ed … a nice long lie-in. The girls say that they will be round at about 11:30 so I shall have to set an alarm for tomorrow, but I’ll tell you one thing for nothing, and that is that it won’t be at 06:29, that’s for sure. It’ll be enough time to have a good wash and have breakfast before they arrive, and that’s the lot. The nurse can sort out my legs and feet while I’m still in bed.

And before long, I really am going to have to snap out of this chronic fatigue. It’s one of these new tablets that’s causing it, I’m pretty sure, so I’d better hurry up and become accustomed to it.

But at least, today, despite everything, I’ve managed to totally complete four radio programmes, which is better than a slap in the face with a wet kipper. I would have loved to have finished the fifth too, but you can’t have everything, I suppose.

Tomorrow afternoon, by the way, it’s Welsh Cup Final day between Caernarfon and Y Fflint. If you want to watch the game live, THE LINK IS HERE and the programme begins at 15:00 UK time (16:00 CET, 10:00 Toronto time) and the kick-off is fifteen minutes later.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Welsh Cup … "well, one of us has" – ed … a strange fly saw a large group of flies running round the edge of a saucer, stopping to stretch and to limber up every so often.
"What are you doing?" the strange fly asked.
"We’re warming up" replied one of them
"Warming up?" asked the strange fly. "What for?"
"Well, we’re playing in the Cup in half an hour."

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Thursday 9th April 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone again this morning. But that’s no real surprise.

Last night, I’d finished my chocolate cake and ice cream really early, so I came back in here and didn’t hang about. I raced through my notes and everything else that I needed to do, and I was in bed not many minutes after 21:30. And I didn’t need much rocking either. I was asleep quite quickly.

However, regular readers of this rubbish will recall what usually happens on nights like this. And even so, 00:30 was rather ridiculous. It’s also a fact that I didn’t go back to sleep either. I lay there, curled up under the quilt, trying my best to go back to sleep or, at least, stay nice, warm and comfortable.

Eventually, I said “sod it” and prepared to leave the bed to do some work, but it was 06:20 by then so there wasn’t really much point. Nevertheless, I had my feet on the ground when the alarm went off, so it counts as an early start – only just.

Having my feet on the ground is one thing – having them moving in the direction of the bathroom is quite another thing. And when I was eventually in the bathroom, I forgot to have a shave.

It was late when I finally made it into the kitchen for my medication, and I made an executive decision – that is, a decision where if it’s the wrong one, the person who made it is executed.

The decision was that I wasn’t going to have a hot drink this morning. With dialysis looming this afternoon and not knowing what will happen, I just had a mouthful of cold water to wash down my medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone but to my dismay, there was nothing on there from last night. But with a sleep of just about three hours, what was I expecting?

The nurse was early today. He was wondering why I don’t stay in here to have my feet attended to, to which my reply was that I need to eat my breakfast afterwards so I may as well be at the kitchen table.

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

Today we have finally begun to talk about the Celts in the pre-Roman days. But for how long, I don’t know. But he’s another one of these Victorian “experts” who attribute the various hillforts to the Saxons rather than the Neolithic people. He’s not quite so far out with Stonehenge, to which he attributes the Celts rather than, again, the Neolithic people.

In fact, in a most unprofessional manner, he ridicules the early nineteenth-century archaeologist Colt Hoare for daring to suggest that those constructions date to that earlier period.

Back in here, I finished off a few things and then turned my attention to the radio notes. It only took an hour or so to finish them off too. After that, I went to the bathroom for a shave and then came back in here to do one or two other things. That included reading the surprising news that Colwun Bay, Y Bala and Trefynnon have been refused a licence to play in the JD Cymru League next season. The clubs have six days to put right the shortcomings or else they will be in the Cymru North next season.

That would mean that the JD Cymru League would only run with fifteen teams next season instead of sixteen, or even fourteen if Caerau Trelai, currently in fourth position in the Cymru South and who was also refused a licence, finishes the season in one of the promotion places.

My faithful cleaner turned up as usual to apply my anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for the taxi to come for me. It was ten minutes late coming for me but seeing as I was the only passenger today, we soon made up the time and I was even early arriving.

And for a change, I didn’t have to wait too long to be plugged in. But it was one of these connections that seemed to take a lot longer than it ought.

And as for my weight, for the second time in succession, I clocked in at under my dry weight. Nevertheless, I let them take out 500 grammes. I was hoping that they’d take out more but after a discussion with the doctor, 500 grammes was the best that they would do.

They wouldn’t leave me alone either today. The nurses kept on coming by to do this and to do that, almost as if they were keeping a close eye on me. It wasn’t until right near the end that they relaxed their vigilance and I could close my eyes for fifteen minutes.

While I was asleep at dialysis, I was off to Crewe town centre – Boots Corner in Market Street, to be precise. I grabbed hold of a girl – I don’t know if I knew her – and we ran hand-in-hand over to my pushbike which was chained up at the side of Boots. I undid the chain, and then I gave her a “croggy” all the way up Market Street and Edleston Road to Nantwich Road. But then, I ended up making sandwiches, with cheese, lettuce, tomato and a few other salad things.

All of that takes me back many years. It’s been years since I rode a pushbike, and years too since Boots moved from Boots Corner to a modern shop somewhere else in the town.

By the time that I was ready to be unplugged, so was everyone else, so guess who was last. However, at least it was one of my favourite nurses so I didn’t complain.

The taxi driver was waiting for me already when I was ready so I didn’t have to wait, and on weighing myself upon leaving, I was below my ideal non-active weight. At long last. I hope that I can keep it up … "or down" – ed …

When we went outside, I could hear the birds singing. That’s the first time this year. It reminded me of being back in the Auvergne and I felt terribly nostalgic.

We were no earlier arriving back here, and my cleaner helped me back into the apartment. And I needed it too because the wind had sprung up since I’d left.

Once she had left, I had my tea – just chocolate cake and home-made ice cream. I’m determined to keep on with this for as long as I can.

So right now, nice and early, I’m off to bed. And one of these days, I might actually have a good sleep. But probably not tonight, if it’s anything like the last few nights.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the birds singing … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends once asked me if I used to hear them when I lived in Crewe.
"Ohh yes" I replied. "Every evening in Spring, round about 18:00, I’d go outside and listen to them."
"Singing?"
"No. Coughing."

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Wednesday 1st April 2026 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone this morning when I awoke.

Not that that was any surprise. Leaving aside the question of these new medicaments that Emilie the Cute Consultant prescribed for me, if you don’t go to bed until 23:30 and you awaken at 04:00, there’s not a lot of time to go anywhere, is there?

Yes, it was another late night last night. For some reason or other, tea last night took ages to cook and consequently, I was quite late finishing. And then with the writing of the notes and everything else that I have to do, we ended up finishing much later than I had hoped.

Once in my nice, clean bed, I was hoping for a really good sleep. And for the first part of the night, that was what I had. Asleep quite quickly and not moving a muscle at all. However, it all went wrong at 04:00 when I awoke.

For quite a while, I stayed with my head tucked firmly under the quilt, nice and comfortable, but after about an hour, I began to think of all of the things that I could be doing instead.

Consequently, I managed … "eventually" – ed … to crawl out of bed and take my place at the computer.

And by the time that the alarm went off, I had dictated no fewer than five sets of radio notes. That was a good morning’s work, especially as there are only now a handful left to do.

When I’d finished, I crawled into the bathroom to sort myself out and then went into the kitchen for the hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I checked the dictaphone and then occupied myself with a few tasks to keep me busy.

Isabelle the Nurse arrived as usual and sorted out my legs and feet. She didn’t have much to say for herself today, which is not like her. After she left, I could make breakfast and make a start on the new book.

It’s called THE ROMAN FORT AT BALMUILDY on the Antonine Wall, written by Stewart Napier Miller and concerns the excavations in 1912-1914 of a Roman fort on the Antonine Wall that ran between the Forth and the Clyde in Scotland.

Its ruins were always visible up to about 1820 or so when it was quarried for its stone. With its existence being threatened by the expansion of Glasgow, it was decided in 1912 to excavate it to recover what might be lost. The excavations finished in 1914 when Miller was mobilised into the Army at the start of World War I.

Back in here afterwards, I sat down at my desk, and the next thing that I remembered, it was 11:27. I’d fallen asleep yet again and had been out like a light for a little over two hours. That was a huge disappointment because I had so much to do today, and I thought that, by and large, I’d overcome these rather dramatic crash-outs.

Then again, I suppose that with only four and a half hours sleep during the night, I’d have to catch up on it somehow, some time. So with not having much time to hang around, I immediately attacked the radio programme that I’d been preparing.

There was a deadline for this today – 16:00 for reasons that you will soon find out. And despite a pause for a disgusting drink, by 16:00, I’d chosen all of the music, remixed and re-edited it all, paired and segued it, end even written all of the notes for it. That was probably the quickest radio programme that I’ve ever prepared, and I wish that I could do them all as quickly as this.

At 16:00 I went into the kitchen.

The first task was to make some bread baps – four of them. Two of them were destined for this evening and the other two for tomorrow evening.

While they were proofing after their first knead, I melted a bar of cooking chocolate over an ad-hoc bain marie with a little water. When it had all melted, I put it on one side to cool, and then, when it was cool enough, poured it over the top of my chocolate cake to make a kind of chocolate shell.

That’s going to be my Easter treat and I bet that it will be as sickly as anything. And won’t I enjoy it?

In the meantime, I’d been preparing my butternut squash, scooping out the seeds and filling the holes with garlic and chili. Then drizzling some olive oil over the two halves. The two halves went into the oven to roast, along with an onion and some potatoes.

At some point during all of that, I’d kneaded the dough for the bread rolls and separated it into four equal portions that I then shaped in the form of discuses, which I left to prove again.

When the squash, potatoes and onions were ready, I took them out of the oven and put in the bread rolls. With the squash, potatoes and onions etc, I made a soup using the carrot water that I’d saved from blanching my carrots that I’d ordered from Leclerc.

Once the soup was ready, I whizzed it up, added some plain soya yoghurt and a few handfuls of these little pasta elbows and let it simmer for ten minutes. Half of it then went into my bowl and the other half was put on one side with two of the baps, for tea tomorrow.

And it was absolutely delicious, one of the best soups that I have ever made. And there wasn’t any room for any trifle afterwards either. The soup and bread were quite enough.

And now I’m off to bed. I’ve had a hellish day today. Never mind the crashing out, I’ve been coughing all day, sneezing and I have a streaming head cold, so strong that not even any Vick’s or Olbas Oil can control it. I hope that it all clears up quite quickly because it all gets right on my nerves all of this. As if I don’t have enough problems.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about waking up early … "well, one of us has" – ed … when I was back in Crewe, I used to wake up early quite often, even after only an hour or two of sleep.
One of my friends once asked me "whenever that kind of thing ever happened, did you wake up grumpy? "
"Oh no" I replied. "I always let her sleep in."

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Wednesday 11th March 2026 – THAT WAS ANOTHER …

… really nice tea, even though it took me over two hours to prepare it and then to tidy up afterwards. And consequently, I’m running even later than I was last night, and that was late enough.

So much so that, by the time that I’d finished everything that needed finishing and had crawled into bed, it was about 23:20 – so much for any possible idea of having an early night.

And just as the previous night, it was another bad one, and by 05:20, I’d given up all possible hope of going back to sleep. But not to worry – round about 06:00 I raised myself from the Dead and attacked the two lots of radio notes that I’d written last week. They are now dictated and ready for editing, and there’s nothing outstanding in that respect.

However, there are no fewer than six lots of radio notes that need editing, so I am going to have a busy weekend by the looks of things.

When the alarm went off, I staggered into the bathroom for a scrub-up and then into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication. And the medication is much better in the drawer opposite the microwave rather than scattered all over the place.

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

There was something about being back in historical times. There was a young boy who was in bed in this house and having to measure how far away from the nearest plug he was in his bed so that we could put the correct amount of cable on a table lamp. For some reason, instead of calculating it from a plug in his bedroom, we calculated it from a plug in the living room and that seemed to go for metres – maybe there were five, six or seven metres. And if we’d taken it from the plug by the bed, it would have been next-to-nothing in the way of cable. But while we were measuring it, we had a metal ruler that was a metre long and a scribe that we were using to mark everything. Part of this route took us outside, and we were measuring in the snow and ice. We were looking at the ice and thinking of how things were frozen up, thinking that we’d better hurry and take ourselves inside again before we freeze in this weather.

It’s not very likely that they would have had table lamps back in historical times, but it’s certainly possible that there might not have been electrical sockets in every room. I can remember times like that in the dim and distant past. And don’t forget that the farm down in Virlet doesn’t have mains electricity or running water.

It would be interesting to know, though, why our route from one bedroom to another took us outside into the snow and ice.

Did I dictate the dream about being in Germany with my German friend? … "No, you didn’t" – ed … We ended up going around one of the supermarkets in his town looking for things that he needed. I saw some Heinz baked beans on special offer, so I went to look, but they were beans with pork sausages, so that ruled it out for me. So we had a good wander around and we noticed a couple of tins of beans on the shelf which were for sale. He asked me if they would be any good, so I replied that there was only one way to find out, so we put them in the trolley. I went to the check-out and waited for my friend who was still looking. I was chatting to the cashier, and he was saying goodbye and talking politely to everyone who was leaving the shop, but no-one seemed to reply to him. He was very annoyed by this. Eventually, we climbed into our car and drove out of the car park into the main street, but we were in Wandsworth by this time. Seeing as we were here, I asked him to turn to the left, which he did. I pointed out a row of shops, which in the past included an Indian takeaway, which was really nice. Up at the junction ahead, the round swung round to the left and headed down towards Wimbledon. Where the Italian restaurant had been, where I used to work, it had all been demolished and it was modern shopping units, things like these tool supply places and DIY hardware fittings places etc. I couldn’t believe how things had changed since the early 1990s when I was working down there. I was really, really disappointed by this.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall my desperate search for decent baked beans, and it would be just my luck to find a huge supply, only to be thwarted by something like several pork sausages.

A while ago, I was looking at one of these online 3-D mapping sites, checking the area where I used to live in Wandsworth for that couple of months, and I didn’t recognise any of it. How it’s all changed since those days. It was really difficult to believe just how different the area is now, compared to how it used to be.

The nurse came extremely early today. He had several blood tests to carry out, including one on me! Unfortunately, he doesn’t have “the touch”, and as my veins are very small and fragile, I suffer enormously.

Not only that, I should have been à jeun – that is, without any food. However, I’d forgotten, so heaven alone knows what they are going to think at the laboratory when they find my blood full of home-made lemon, ginger and honey drink.

After he’d sorted out my feet, which was also agony because the pain in my right foot has returned, he left, and I could make breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, having finished the accounts of the downfall of the individual duchies, he’s discussing the situations on the islands. It’s, regrettably, exactly the same as on the mainland, with different groups in conflict with others, internal revolution, external warfare, appeals to various European bodies and even craven submission to the Ottomans in order to seek protection from a different Christian force.

It really is difficult to understand why these people couldn’t see that they were signing their own death warrants.

Back in here, I finished off a few things and then, regrettably, I had a little “doze” in my chair for an hour or so. I can’t say that I was surprised.

Once I’d brought myself back round fully into the Land of the Living, I carried on writing the notes for the radio programme on which I’d been working yesterday. And by lunchtime, I’d finished everything. So this idea of being “up to date” didn’t last any longer than six hours.

After a disgusting drink break, I had a few things to do.

This fibre-optic cable issue is still rumbling on … "and on, and on" – ed … due to the inability of the estate agent’s manager to understand the problem. And now another inhabitant of the building, not exactly known for his patience, has thrown his hat into the ring following the failure of the installation chez lui. It seems that I am shortly to have a visit from a technician nominated by the estate agent, who intends to check the situation.

And not before time, either.

There was also an order to pass to my online retailer, and as a result, my late birthday present to myself should be arriving in about a week or ten days or so. In fact, a part of it should be here within the next couple of days, as it was “en route” about an hour after I’d ordered it.

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

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

A third thing was to reply to a letter that I’d received from the Auvergne. A few weeks ago, I wrote about a letter that I’d received from someone sending me his sympathies for my illness. I’d written back with an update as to my condition, and he’d replied. He’s going to carry out a little task or two for me, something that should come as quite a pleasant surprise to whoever inherits my possessions.

And finally, I’ve had my tax demand for my property in Canada. Looking at the increases over the last few years, property values close to the border with the Great Satan (and you can’t be much closer to the border with the Great Satan than my property) are rising dramatically since the orange utan took power down there.

Rosemary rang for a little chat. And it was a “little chat” too – it only lasted one hour. She’s been noticing the lack of worms in her garden these last couple of years, and the compost that she spreads on her vegetable plots doesn’t seem to break down as quickly as it should. Consequently, she’s planning on ordering a couple of hundred worms from a place in France so that she can dig them in with the compost.

With the time that was left, I chose the music for the next radio programme. And some of that took a lot of finding too. But it’s all now present, reformatted, remixed and re-edited. I can pair it and segue it tomorrow and maybe even write a couple of the notes for it.

Tea tonight was a fresh vegetable curry … "well, frozen vegetable curry actually" – ed … with onion, mushrooms, tomato, lentils, broccoli, cauliflower and sprouts in a thick vegan yoghurt sauce with rice, followed by birthday cake and home-made ice cream. And it really was delicious.

However, I might have to smile sweetly at Alison and ask her to take a little trip into Leuven on my behalf because my stock of spices is running rather low right now.

But that’s a job for the weekend because right now, I’m off to bed, hours later than I would like.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my blood test … "well, one of us has" – ed … I told one of my friends from Crewe that I had had a blood test this morning.
And so she asked "did you have to study hard last night, then?"

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Saturday 7th March 2026 – THIS REALLY BUSY …

… spell that I had yesterday and the day before seems to have continued today too. Mind you, I let a really golden opportunity slip through my fingers, but more of that anon.

Last night, it was another late night … "as it will be tonight" – ed … and it was again about 23:15 when I finally struggled into bed after I’d finished listening to Colosseum.

Once again, I managed to go to sleep quite quickly, and there I stayed until all of … errr … 04:01 precisely when I awoke. It was too early to raise myself from the Dead so I lay there vegetating, being totally unable to go back to sleep.

At what I thought would be about 05:30, I thought that I may as well leave the bed and dictate the radio notes that I’ve been writing, but on checking the time, I found that it was actually 06:05 and the alarm would be going off very shortly.

That was certainly a missed opportunity – I could have dictated all of the radio notes and been totally up-to-date again in that respect, but at 06:05, it’s far too late to make a start.

Nevertheless, I managed to raise myself into a sitting position, and by 06:20 I was up and about and heading to the bathroom. An early start, sure enough, but not the early start that I wanted or needed.

After a really good wash, I went into the kitchen and now that I have some fresh lemons thanks to Leclerc, I could make my drink correctly and take my medication.

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

I was on my way to see some friends. I arrived in a city and I was on a bus, and because my mobility is restricted, I ended up in a hotel in the city centre in the early afternoon. The first thing that I did was to ask a few questions to a kind of robot writer. I wrote down some questions and it wrote out the answers, then it asked me if there was anything else that I needed. I said that I had to speak to some friends so the first thing that I did was to write “hello” to one of my friends, but I didn’t receive a reply, so I sent another brief message to one of my friends. She wrote back to say that she was pleased to see me and that the papers that I wanted were outside her lock-up garage in some kind of 17th- or 18th-century box, and this is the time when most neighbours won’t really complain about people hanging around there, so maybe I would like to go along and move them. I explained that I was not able to travel and couldn’t make it up there on my own, so she came back with a message “would you like me to prepare a meal for you?”. I was hoping to see my other friend who wasn’t in, but nevertheless I replied “yes, that would be really nice”. Then she told me about how she could make some kind of container. I sent back “what? Do you mean out of a lump of bread?” but she replied “no, out of a lump of butter”. I thought that that was not going to be a very good idea at all, to try to make a container out of a lump of butter.

It’d been a long time since I’ve thought about a robot writer – the 1960s and 1970s precursor to Artificial Intelligence and the display screen.

But of course, there’s the phenomenon of “automatic writing”, where some people can go into a trance while holding a pen, and it’s as if another being takes over and begins to write with your arm, hand and pen, with you having no control over it.

That’s something that has happened to me, and I’d love to know in what language you’d find the words ” XDFVV CHXWD BBBQC”.

Making a container out of a lump of butter would be interesting too. I hope that it wouldn’t be for holding hot food.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual and sorted out my legs and feet, being really delicate around the sole of my right foot as the pain was back this morning. She was running late for a blood test so she couldn’t hang around.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, we’re dealing with the winding down of the Frankish empire in modern Greece, the attacks by the Catalans, the Navarese and the Genoese, and the capture and sack of Constantinople in 1453 by the Ottomans.

The Ottomans are now preparing to move into Greece, and this is probably the saddest part of the whole procedure

During the morning (and some of the afternoon) I’ve been rearranging the things in the kitchen drawers, making it all more user-friendly. I’ve now ended up with a large drawer completely empty, and my cunning plan is to move all of the medication into it instead of having it lying scattered around all over various shelves and drawers. It will be much nicer, much more user-friendly and a lot less dispiriting when I don’t have to look at it every time I’m in the living room.

There was football at lunchtime, Y Fflint v Dinas Bangor, in the semi-final of the Welsh Cup. Bangor, from the third tier, were hoping to be the first club from their level to reach the final but Y Fflint, struggling in the Premier League, are hoping to win the cup for the first time since 1954.

Unfortunately, despite having done so well to reach the semi-finals, it was one step too far for Bangor. What stood out for me was the difference in quality between the Fflint and the Bangor players, which is only to be expected. Y Fflint were much quicker to the ball and seemed to be able to find a colleague with a pass, even when under a lot of pressure.

But congrats to Y Fflint and commiserations to Bangor.

And also congratulations to former JD Cymru League striker Will Evans, who played for Cardiff Metropolitan and Y Bala. Now playing in the English First Division with Mansfield Town, today he scored a goal against Arsenal to go with the one that he scored against Manchester United a couple of years ago.

Tomorrow, we had a first-v-second division encounter between Caernarfon and Y Rhyl, which you CAN WATCH HERE at 13:15 UK time, 14:15 CET or 08:15 Toronto time.

The rest of the day, I’ve been editing some of the radio notes that I’d dictated in that mad session the other morning. I managed to deal with no fewer than five programmes – admittedly only the notes for joining tracks – and now that’s five more radio programmes totally completed, all the way up to 2nd October. As I said, I want my radio shows to live on after I’ve gone.

There was even time to begin the research on yet another radio programme, in addition to the one that I began yesterday. This one today will take me all the way up to 27th November.

Tea tonight was the last of these breadcrumbed nuggets that have been hanging around in the freezer since Adam was a lad, with vegan salad and a baked potato – with vegan cheese in the slits instead of vegan butter. It was followed by some of my birthday cake and home-made ice cream.

But as for the nuggets, there are a few that I’ve bought recently, and the aim is to take them out of their shop packaging and tip them into an old ice cream container so that they are better-protected in the freezer than in a plastic bag.

But anyway, that’s for tomorrow, maybe. Right now, I’m off to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Sack of Constantinople "well, one of us has" – ed … I asked one of my friends "did you know that the Ottomans sacked Constantinople in 1453?"
"Really?" he asked. "Who did they appoint instead?"

0

Monday 2nd March 2026 – ANOTHER EXCITING DAY …

… at dialysis, I don’t think. If I’m not careful, I shall die of boredom in there. As if I don’t have enough to do with my time as it is, and when you only have one hand that you can use because the other one is pinned to the side of the bed, it all becomes extremely complicated.

Having been going there for as long as I have, I can see why most of the patients in there just curl up and go to sleep.

Actually, that’s how I felt today, and I almost did fall asleep too, but then again, I had a very good reason to do so.

Last night, it wasn’t quite so late as it has been in the past. By the time that I finished everything that needed doing and crawled into my stinking pit, it was 23:20. Still much later than I would have liked, of course, but still earlier than some have been just recently.

What was the killer, though, was that I awoke at 05:20. And it was a case of leaving the bed at that moment too, without even five minutes to let the bedroom stop spinning around.

While I was up and about, I went for a wash and shave and to dress, and then I came back in here because it was far too early to go for my medication.

Instead, I took advantage of the early start and dictated the radio notes that I’d prepared since the last time that I’d had an early start. There were seven lots of programmes all told, and that was a Herculean effort to dictate them all and then upload them to the computer, but I’m glad that they are all done now and I’m up-to-date from that point of view.

Once I’d finished, I went off into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication, and then I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out what I’d been up to during the night.

I was driving my taxi again last night, and there was something going on in the town centre, so I was there. I must have taken away about twenty fares. One of the very early ones was to go from the town centre with a girl whom I knew who worked in a restaurant there and drop her off at home down the West End. But every other single trip involved a trip down Gresty Road, and I couldn’t understand why everyone seemed to be heading that way. On the way back, on the corner where the Crewe Alex ground is, there was a huge church with lots of tourists milling around there. There were two or three taxis that were waiting there for fares in amongst the crowds, and there was some kind of official, like a tourist guide or something, amongst them. As I kept on going back there to the town centre, I kept on going into a kind of room. At one point, back in this room were some of the people whom I’d taken quite early on in the day, so we had a joke about the trip down the West End because that girl was back there too. I said “I’d have to take a photograph of you,” but she misunderstood it because she was a foreigner, and wondered what on earth kind of photograph I was thinking of. At one stage, I had to go into a different room. I was carrying something. The reason why was that I needed some kind of authority from someone senior, and I knew that the small rooms where the senior people hang out were down this corridor. And out of another room towards the room where I was standing came someone with whom I used to work years ago. We went into his room, and he said “I suppose that you’re going to come out with some kind of comment about photos too, aren’t you?”. Then I suddenly realised that this guy had commented on some photos on a social network, and his comments would not have been the kind that would have been approved today, although thirty or forty years ago, there would have been no remark made. I replied “oh no, but they were rather indiscreet, weren’t they?” to which he just gave a shrug.

This is one problem with living and working in a foreign language. Quite often, you might understand the words but not the actual meaning of the phrase, and this can lead to all kinds of double-entendres and misunderstandings.

But here I am again, driving taxis around Crewe and bumping into old work colleagues. And it’s true about how the UK, and probably many other countries in the Western World, have become more sanitised, and the kind of risqué or oblique comments that we used to use in the past suddenly became banned overnight – round about 1991 and 1992 when we began to have these “political correctness” lessons in the workplace. I remember that a lot of my more humorous cassette tapes that I used on the coaches were completely outlawed

There was also a dream about being down in the Isle of Thanet on holiday. I was walking along the beach, looking up at the promenade thinking “wouldn’t it be great if they dredged this out and they had ships coming along here to moor and anchor right up against the promenade? Then, my mother was talking to my father about the houses in the area. They were alternately grey and white, but we didn’t really know why. We went to visit someone whom we knew, who lived in one of these grey and white wooden wattle-and-daub type of cottage. We went into the kitchen, and I vaguely remember the kitchen from years ago and it looked different to me. She said “yes, there have been one or two changes here. Can you think of what’s missing?”. For some unknown reason, and I don’t know why, I mentioned a bookcase. She looked surprised, and she said “there used to be a bookcase just here”, pointing to an empty space on the wall, “but that’s long gone, and you’ve never seen it. It’s been long gone before you first ever came to this cottage”.

Firstly, there are several places in the World where different colours of houses represent different ethnic groups. Hungary and southwestern Newfoundland spring straight away to my mind, and I seem to recall that Romania does too, or used to.

As for the Isle of Thanet, though, my mother had distant relatives there and every summer, we’d go down there to stay with a great aunt or something, Dolly, Gertie or Mabel. On the Friday night after school broke up, our father would come home from work, we’d all pile into his van and drive through the night and next day down to either Birchington or Hamstreet.

He’d have a few hours’ sleep and then drive back Saturday night and Sunday, ready to start work again on Monday, and that was no picnic in the days before motorways and in a 1937 Fordson van with a three-speed gearbox.

And then he’d come back down for the final two weeks of our school holidays.

Incidentally, many years ago, I went down there myself for a good look around and to visit the places where we used to go. With the M6, M1, M25 and M2, the journey from Crewe to Birchington took just under four hours.

The nurse turned up as usual and was in a chatty mood, hardly surprising because he’s on his week’s break as of this evening. He didn’t stay long, and I could push on, make my breakfast and read my new book, ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Our author is coming to the close of the period of the Roman occupation, so naturally we’re discussing the religious disputes and also the gathering clouds on the horizon as Alaric and his Huns, various Visigoths and a few Ostrogoths are heading towards Athens and the other Greek cities.

The next few years look to be fairly bleak from a Greek point of view.

Back in here, I reviewed a radio programme that will be broadcast this weekend and, satisfied with how it runs, I sent it off for inclusion in the broadcasting stream. There were a few other things to do, and then I made a start on the next radio programme. All of the music has been chosen and prepared, and I’ve made a start on pairing and segueing it.

My cleaner turned up to apply the anaesthetic to my arm, and then I had to wait for the taxi. He was more-or-less on time but there were two other passengers to pick up, and as one of them was late for her appointment, we had to drop her off first and I ended up being the last to be dropped off.

At the dialysis clinic, it was one of the new nurses who attended to me. She’d had a very bad experience on Thursday connecting me, what with the machine breaking down and all that, so naturally she was extremely nervous today. I tried to encourage her but even so, it wasn’t far short of 15:00 when I was finally connected.

Nothing exciting happened there today apart from that, but the doctor came to see me to see if everything had been OK over the weekend. What could I say? Nothing ever changes around here.

Eventually, hours late, I was unplugged, but at least the taxi was already here. It was the young chatty driver who came for me, although I would quite happily have swapped for my favourite lady driver who had come for someone else. But anyway, we had a good chat on the way home.

My faithful cleaner was waiting for me when I arrived, and she helped me into the apartment.

After she left, I warmed up my half-pizza from yesterday and for a change, I had a small baked potato with it. It was followed by an apricot half and home-made ice cream.

So right now, I’m off to bed, ready to catch up on the sleep that I missed last night.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about double entendres … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone once asked me if I’d heard the story about the girl from Crewe who went into a pub and asked for a double-entendre.
"No, I hadn’t" I replied. "What happened?"
"The barman gave her one."

0

Tuesday 24th February 2026 – ♬ HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO …

… me ♬

Yes, another year older and deeper in debt, right enough. And don’t ask me how old I am because at my age, you don’t count the number of years that you’ve had – you count the number of years you have left. And in my case, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, it’s not all that many. In fact, if I see this one out, I shall be setting a new record.

So in preparation for my birthday, I tried my best … "and failed miserably" – ed … to rush ahead with what I needed to do. However, it was still late by the time that I finished, but not as late as some have been. I was in bed by 23:00, which is not bad going these days, although I wish that it could be better.

Once in bed, I was asleep quite quickly. But as seems to be par for the course following a session of dialysis, I was awake quite early. 03:50 as it happens.

And for the first time in a while, I managed to go back to sleep again – until all of 05:00. And after that, I just lay there trying unsuccessfully to doze off again. But when the time came round to about 06:15, I slid out from under the bedclothes and put my feet on the floor.

When the alarm went off, my feet were still on the floor and so that counts as an early start, even if I hadn’t been able to do anything in the way of work.

It was a struggle to stand up and go to the bathroom, but I did manage it in the end, and then I went off into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I found that I’d already received a few birthday messages, which I then read, with a great big thank you to those of you who had written. And my three friends from our travelling club were online and we all had a chat, including my friend from Munich who is just out of hospital after an eye operation.

While we were chatting, I was transcribing the dictaphone notes from last night.

There had been a body discovered in a shallow grave in Canada. It was of a girl about ten years old. Eventually, the police managed to track down her family – they lived in the Maritime Provinces. At one stage, they had moved out west but the lure of the Maritimes was too strong and they had returned. That was as far as I’d gone before I awoke.

Bodies are being pulled out of shallow graves by the dozen in North America, so there’s nothing new here. And neither is people going out west to the oilfields of Alberta from the Maritime Provinces, especially after the collapse of the fishing industry following the cod moratorium of 1992, something that we have discussed on numerous occasions during our visits around the Atlantic coast of Canada.

It’s also true that most of the families do end up coming back. The pace of life in the oilfields is much more intense than the laid-back attitudes of the Maritimers, so once they have done several years out there and made their pile, they gradually filter back home to work at whatever they can find while drawing on their not-insubstantial savings.

I was with one of my friends last night and we were in Crewe watching the Crewe Carnival. And while I was trying to fix something and she was watching me, another parade went past with all young people. I happened to recognise two or three people in this parade. I’d heard that there was going to be some kind of parade in respect of something else, some march or demonstration, so I wondered if this was it. After the crowds dispersed and we slowly began to walk away, we were walking down Queen Street … "It was Queensway actually" – ed … and there was sunlight with a very fine rain and we bumped into one of the girls whom we’d seen in this parade. I asked her how her parade went and she replied “ohh, the speech by the leader was magnificent and it’s really going to make him grow”. I replied “yes, but what about the parade?”. “Well, maybe there were six hundred people there and it all seemed to go very well” she said. And while I was standing in a queue for something or other, it might have been a packet of crisps or something, another girl whom I knew came along. She tried to take her mug off the counter but she couldn’t quite reach it, so I reached behind me and it was much easier to reach from there so I passed it to her with a smile. She wandered off, but my friend asked me about the girl – who she was. I replied that she was someone from our office. We began to walk down Queensway and I was eating my packet of crisps. I asked my friend what she was doing this evening. She replied that she was going to look for a pair of shoes in some of the shops around the area, so I said that I’d come with her, with the idea that maybe later on, we’d go for a meal or something. Then she began to talk about Margaret, a former employee of mine on the taxis. She said that she went round to see Margaret’s first accommodation which was some kind of bedsit place down one of the back streets off the West End. She said “it has to be worth more than £1000 per year”. She mentioned something about the smell but I didn’t really notice it. She began to think aloud about investing some of her money from her retirement pension into a rental property in Crewe and seeing whether that would make a better return than what she’s receiving on her investments at the moment.

Strangely enough, in our Welsh class later, we were talking about rituals and ceremonies and discussing how many old ceremonies have disappeared in recent times. The subject of Crewe Carnival actually did crop up during this discussion. It disappeared about fifteen or so years ago, which was a shame because at one time it attracted tens of thousands of people to the town.

The two girls – I know them too. The second girl was a girl with whom I worked for a while, and the first one was a friend of a friend from Stoke-on-Trent who came to stay with me for a few days while she was interviewed for a post at the European Commission. The bit about “the leader” sent a chill through my spine, though. There are far too many of these “leaders” around these days and it can only go all pear-shaped.

Isabelle the Nurse came along later and wished me a happy birthday as she sorted out my feet and legs. And after she left, I made breakfast. As a special treat, I had cheese on toast with my porridge, and it would have been really nice had I not dropped both slices upside-down in the oven.

While I was eating, I read some more of MAIDEN CASTLE EXCAVATIONS AND FIELD SURVEY 1985-6 by Niall Sharples.

He’s finally finished discussing pottery, and he’s still no nearer solving the riddles that have been plaguing him throughout the chapter. His conclusions are full of theories and unanswered questions, but at least, his “layering” technique for identifying periods of occupation seems to have produced positive results, even if they aren’t the results that he’s expecting.

Back in here, I went to revise my Welsh and then I joined the lesson. And it passed really well today. All of this revision seems to be paying off, if only I could remember it the following morning. Wouldn’t that be nice?

After lunch my faithful cleaner came to do her stuff and she shooed me into the shower too, so now I’m nice and clean … "well, clean, anyway" – ed …

Liz ‘phoned me later and we had a Rosemaryesque chat that went on for an hour and eighteen minutes. Just a short one today. We discussed lots of things and she promised to send a recipe for a grilled vegetable salad, which I received later.

My niece and one of her daughters ‘phoned me later, as did my friend from the Orkney Islands. I shall have to have birthdays more often at this rate, if I’m so popular.

Once everything had quietened down, I began work on another radio programme but regrettably, I fell asleep for almost an hour – one of those sleeps where I don’t even realise that I’ve gone to sleep until I awaken.

While I was asleep in the early evening, I was with two friends. I’d met them while I was out driving down Chestnut Avenue in Shavington, presumably on the way home to Vine Tree Avenue and they were walking up the hill. There was a house for sale in the avenue and I’d noticed it because it seemed to be remarkably cheap for what it was so I happened to mention it. They looked at it – a big, modern detached home, on sale for £199,000 and it had a big gazebo at the back. The wife liked the look of it so the three of us went into the garden. She was worried that we had no authorisation but I told her that it didn’t matter. I’d simply pretend. As we walked up to the house, we noticed that there was no path and the lawn towards the front door was badly eroded. But as we walked, it became steeper and steeper and more and more eroded until we found ourselves on the roof. There seemed to be no other way in, despite how it looked from the road. And the roof seemed to be all old slates rather than the nice, neat tiles that we’d seen from the road. We eventually found our way inside, and it didn’t seem to be so bad, but there was someone else in there showing another couple around. He was telling them “you’ll probably get this place for £130,000 because … ” and then he mumbled something that I didn’t quite catch. I asked him to repeat it but before he could, I awoke.

Whatever this is about, I have absolutely no idea. I can’t think of anything that has cropped up recently that will have triggered this off.

Tea tonight was a lovely vegan vegetable stir-fry with noodles followed by a slice of fiery ginger cake with thick custard. And “fiery” is definitely the correct word to use here. I’m well-impressed. Isabelle the Nurse had asked me if I would be putting candles on my cake, but I told her that with climate change, global warming and all of that, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Mind you, my breath alone after eating that will contribute to a rise in planetary temperature, I imagine.

But now, I’m off to bed to sleep off my rather large meal. I couldn’t resist all of that lovely food, no matter how ill I might have been feeling.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my friend from Munich … "well, one of us has" – ed … the doctor came to check up on him this morning.
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Four" replied my friend
"Good" said the doctor. "Now come with me" and they both went outside.
"Now what’s that?" said the doctor, pointing up into the sky
"That’s the sun, of course"
"Well, that’s ninety-three million miles away from here. If you can see that far, your eyes must be good enough to go."

0

Saturday 21st February 2026 – IT’S BEEN ANOTHER …

… day when I seem to have accomplished quite a lot, without really realising it.

Mind you, I did have something of a head start this morning, and that can quite often make a great difference.

It wasn’t like that last night, though. Once more, everything that I needed to do seemed to take so long to do it that it was 23:30 once more when I finally crawled into bed and threw the covers over my head, as I usually do.

And there I lay, fast asleep, until all of … errr … 03:25 when I awoke. And from that moment on, try as I might, I simply could not go back to sleep.

So for about two hours or so, I lay there tossing and turning to no effect whatsoever and in the end, round about 05:30, I arose from the Dead.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that this week, I’ve prepared two radio programmes. The notes had yet to be dictated, and so I made the most of the early start by dictating both of them before we started having people strolling around outside and making a noise.

Once I’d finished, I went into the bathroom to sort myself out, change my clothes and have a clothes-washing session. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … having lived out of a suitcase for several years, I always try to keep on top of the washing of the undies so that I’m not overwhelmed or, even worse, run out of clothes. Handwashing my undies is no big deal.

In the kitchen, I made my hot lemon, honey and ginger drink with which to take my medication, and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out what I’d been up to during the night.

And I was surprised that I’d been up to so much, given how little sleep I’d had during the night.

There was a big group of us sitting around on the chairs and settees and the floor of a living room somewhere. We were discussing various things that had happened, various illnesses, and someone began to talk about a mining disaster up in the Cumbria region where people had been killed. They were discussing how it happened, and someone turned round to me and said “I suppose that if you’d been in charge, Eric, you’d have pleaded ‘Not Guilty'” to which I replied “not at all”. Someone said “yes, but you don’t want to say that at the top of your voice, do you?”. I replied “no, but you review the evidence first before you decide on what you are going to say”. The chap then turned round from that same subject towards the medical and said … “that’s why” I said “I have this illness but no-one is going to say that I die of it because I might die of something else in the meantime”. People usually hedge their bets as to when I’m going to die etc and no-one will give me a date because they are all making sure that they don’t pre-empt anything.

Yesterday, I was writing the biography for a musician who came from Aspatria in Cumbria. And as well as that, it was the anniversary today of one of the SPRINGHILL MINING DISASTERS, the one that took place in 1891.

Later on, we were singing a song called “Rebecca”. It’s a song in French and concerned a girl who was walking around Maiden Castle reviewing all of the changes etc that had taken place there. The song was in homage of what she saw. Of course, it was much more complicated than this and included a dream as well, but it was the song that stuck in my mind mostly, even though I’ve forgotten it now.

This is one of those dreams that I have mentioned before, where I remember nothing at all about it.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I am actually asleep when I dictate my notes during the night but even so, I usually have a recall of something or other when I’m transcribing them. However, this is one of those where I didn’t and I’ve no idea to what it relates.

It certainly sounds interesting, though, and I wish that I could remember it.

We were back right at the end of the American Civil War and the siege of Richmond or Fredericksburg. The Union Army was of course on top, and there was one Union soldier who was quite famous for a lot of things. He was running agents behind Confederate lines, doing all kinds of things that had made him something of a hero. The Confederates learned that he was in the front line in their sector, so one of their private soldiers made a kind of search amongst the Union soldiers as best as he could from his own trench, and thought that he was able to recognise the soldier by the accolades that he was having from his friends. One evening, the soldier went and constructed a kind of tent in the front line, a shelter using a tent half and installed himself in it. The Confederate soldier took a rifle from the rack and inserted a bullet in it. He took careful aim but of course the rifle was extremely heavy and he was unable to control it properly when he was standing up. Nevertheless, when he thought that he was correct, he fired. It hit the Union soldier in the leg and rebounded into his chest and there had to be all kinds of immediate, urgent reactions to try to save him, otherwise he’d die. So in the pause that was taking place, a couple of Confederate officers and their wives decided that they would try to cross the lines into the Union Army area and go to do their shopping. When the general heard about this, he was appalled and sent the strongest instructions around. A couple of days later, the Confederate Army surrendered and it made no difference. One thing about this rifle while I think about it was that it wasn’t a muzzle-loader with a paper cartridge and a Minié ball but a breech loader with a proper bullet. In the American Civil War armies, it was extremely rare to find that.

This dream actually concerned the siege of Petersburg, and regular readers of this rubbish in a previous existence will recall that WE WENT TO VISIT PETERSBURG on one of our trips around the USA back in the past.

And I do have to say that I’m so impressed that I can remember from my reading in the past, so much that is relevant to this dream. The Spencer Repeating Rifle that this Confederate private seems to be using was a very rare issue, only issued to Union cavalry and sharpshooter infantry regiments. It had a chamber that could hold seven bullets of the type that we know today

The ordinary “footslogger” used a Springfield rifled musket. These were long-barrelled and had to be loaded at the muzzle. A paper cartridge of gunpowder would be rammed down the barrel and then a Minié bullet, a lump of lead about six tenths of an inch in diameter, would be rammed down afterwards.

The discharge of a Minié ball from a Springfield was of a very low velocity, so rather than the bullet passing through clothes, flesh and everything, the Minié ball would push clothing deep into the body and the weight of the ball would shatter the bone. Consequently, there were many, many cases where gangrene developed, because of the dirty and stained clothing that the victim would be wearing. A surgical amputation of the limb in what passed for a casualty clearing station was a very common result of being hit by a Minié ball.

The survival rate of amputation after being hit by a Minié ball was not very optimistic. I’ve seen figures to suggest that over twenty-five per cent of such amputations resulted in death.

As for the tent, every Union soldier carried as part of his kit a “shelter half” which was half a tent. And when the troops stopped for the night, they would form pairs and make one tent from their two “shelter halves”.

And as I said just now, I’m impressed that I could remember all that in a dream.

Isabelle the nurse turned up as usual and told me that somehow, she’d been locked out of her health card-reading machine. That’s going to cause a few complications if she can’t unlock herself.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of MAIDEN CASTLE EXCAVATIONS AND FIELD SURVEY 1985-6 by Niall Sharples.

He has now moved on to discuss pottery. And it’s going to be a very long discussion too because his team found a total of 10,432 grammes of pottery from the Neolithic Age alone, never mind the Bronze Age, the Iron Age and the proto-Roman occupation.

At the moment, he’s trying to categorise it into rim formation and shape. I have a feeling that we’ll be here for a rather long time.

After breakfast, I had things to do. Up on the top of my shelf unit were some boxes from the move back in August. I can’t reach them so while my cleaner had the ladder here yesterday, I asked her to bring them down.

And you’ll be amazed at the stuff that I found in them when I was sorting through the contents. It really is quite impressive. Loads of stuff that I’d either mislaid, couldn’t find or didn’t even realise that I’d brought with me from the farm.

The problem now is to find a place to put the things because it’s no use putting them back on the top shelf where I can’t reach them. A lot of it is stuff that I ought to need.

After a disgusting drink break at lunchtime, I came in here and began to edit the notes that I’d dictated a couple of weeks ago for another radio programme. And by the time that I’d knocked off, I’d edited them all, assembled the two halves of the programme, chosen the joining track and written the notes for it ready for dictation on the next early morning.

Then we had the football. And at last, after several weeks, we finally had a match where both the teams were interested in the game and wanted to play it.

Llansawel, fourth from bottom, were entertaining Y Bala, second from bottom. Y Bala were desperate for points to haul themselves out of the relegation places and Llansawel had hopes of catching up the teams ahead of them and pulling further out of danger.

Consequently, they were at it hammer and tongs right from the kick-off and there was no respite.

The result, 2-1 to Llansawel, was probably about fair, but if Y Bala can play like that all the time, they might give Y Fflint, third bottom, a few things to think about.

After the final whistle, I went into the kitchen and sorted out the pastry to make my croissants. I tried my new technique and it seems to work, but we’ll have to wait until I bake them tomorrow morning to see;

By then it was teatime and I made baked potato, a vegan salad and some of those vegan nuggets that I like, followed by apricot with vegan sorbet

Right now though, I’m going to bed ready for my lie-in, I hope. I have to say that I deserve it. Tomorrow, I’m going to try to find a recipe for a ginger cake so that I can make a ginger layer cake, with some vegan ginger cream filling in between the layers, if I can find a recipe for that too.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Neolithic pottery … "well, one of us has" – ed … Niall Sharples was asked about all the pottery that he had collected.
"The problem is" he said "that it’s all broken into small pieces. To all intents and purposes, it’s effectively dead."
"So why are you collecting it all?"
"We’re going to have to try to return it to its next-of-kiln."

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Tuesday 17th February 2026 – HAVING WAXED LYRICAL …

… yesterday about how much better I was feeling, I was brought right back down to earth this afternoon when I had one of those famous collapses that I have every now and again.

And it was looking so good too.

Last night, I strolled through everything that I needed to do. Nothing seemed to stand in my way and I was actually in bed by about 22:15, having finished everything that needed to be done. And it’s not very often that I can say that.

Not only that, I was asleep quite quickly too. However, you don’t need me to tell you what subsequently happened. You’ve heard me say it often enough, and you are probably just as sick as I am of hearing about it.

So there I was, at 04:15 this morning, lying in bed, trying my best to go back to sleep but without any success at all. In the end, round about 05:45, I dragged myself out of bed and, in a mad fit of enthusiasm, dictated all of the radio notes that were outstanding.

It has to be said, though, that I made a right dog’s breakfast of more than just a couple of them. Probably because at that time of morning, I can’t see straight enough to read my notes and I’m not awake enough to concentrate. There will be piles of editing to do, but it can’t be helped.

After I’d finished, I staggered off into the bathroom to sort myself out, and then I went into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication. I really do like this hot lemon, honey and ginger drink, despite all of the rubbish that I’m obliged to take with it.

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

I dreamed that I was working for Birmingham City Transport. I was in a double-decker bus that had Route 454 on the front. I wondered where I was going because no-one had said a word to me. I tried to set the destination board to 000 but I somehow couldn’t manage to do it. It was displaying all kinds of numbers. The next thing that I remember was that I was in the middle of Birmingham Bus Station, in the middle where the buses wait to find an empty bay. Someone came along and said that I was in the wrong place. There were already one or two people on board so I set off to do a lap around the bus station to look for the bay for the 454. Everyone complained that I hadn’t picked up passengers, so I told them that I was doing a lap round to find the correct bay. They explained to me where I had to go, and there were half a dozen people waiting there, so I picked them up and drove out of the city centre. I had no idea where I was going, and we went there and these areas of total devastation where there had been acres and acres of demolition. By that time, there were just these two women on board. They explained to me that I had to take them to some kind of house where they were going to go for a visit. Of course, I knew nothing about this. No-one had told me a thing. I didn’t even know where this house was, so they said that they would guide me. In the end, we ended up walking through the countryside, chatting about all kinds of things, washing clothes in salt to remove bloodstains etc. And the views were wonderful. We met two other people and had a quick chat and just carried on walking into the countryside and we walked for miles. There were these two old Swedish Volvos parked at the side of the road. I noticed them, and they had foreign plates, but I couldn’t identify the plates at the moment. We were just chatting for hours as we walked through the countryside, and I had no idea at all what I was supposed to be doing.

Now, this was a strange dream, if ever there was one. Firstly, I’ve never driven a double-deck service bus. Plenty of coaches of course, and plenty of single-deck service buses but not a double-deck service bus. and as for driving around Birmingham, I know the various ways in and out, but I’d be lost completely if I had to drive a service bus route. However, there was a Birmingham bus route 454 that ran from the city centre out to Smethwick and that way.

So what would I be doing there? And why would I end up walking miles through the countryside with two women past a couple of pale green Volvos, two of the very last 164 models (I can still see them).

As for removing bloodstains, at dialysis yesterday a large load of blood was actually spilled onto my T-shirt and needs to be cleaned.

There was also something about being at home with Nerina. She was drinking a bottle of beer, and she said that this particular beer was really nice. I said that my friend from Munich might be coming to stay for a while, and he likes a special kind of beer, and my brother likes a certain beer, so if my friend from Munich comes to stay we’ll fetch a few beers of each type and we can have a nice night in, and she seemed to like the idea. Then we decided that we’d have to tidy up and she wanted to put some things in the fridge. The fridge was full, so I had to shuffle everything around and in the end, I managed to fit these things in but a couple of bottles of wine wouldn’t fit on the shelves inside so I had to move some things out of the door shelves to put the wine in there and to put the things that were in the door shelves into the fridge somehow. But the bottom shelf of the fridge was full of peat and that kind of thing, composted soil. I had to dig a hole in it to stand these bottles of wine upright in it.

This is probably a little more like it. Nerina wasn’t a beer drinker, but she would appreciate a very good beer very occasionally. I know that my friend does, because there’s a special order here every time that he tells me that he’s coming round.

We were much more into wine back in the old days, Nerina and I, and back in the days thirty or forty years ago, a plate of cheese and a bottle of Burgundy would have been our heaven. Planting a bottle of wine in the soil in the fridge is a novel idea, though.

And why would my brother be rearing his head in the middle of a convivial gathering?

The nurse was really early today – barely 08:00. But the sooner he comes, the sooner he goes and that suits me fine. I could push on, make my breakfast and read some more of MAIDEN CASTLE EXCAVATIONS AND FIELD SURVEY 1985-6 by Niall Sharples.

And we are reaching a really interesting point in the book, a point that has me fascinated. Firstly, he and his team are able to interpret the climate to such a precise extent that, judging by the state of the soil and vegetation immediately underneath it, they can tell you that the prehistoric burial mound in the middle of the hillfort was begun when it was pouring down with rain. And it doesn’t become any more precise than that.

Furthermore, by examining the mollusc (snails, etc.) remains in the various layers of soil, his team can tell you that the land was first climax woodland, then cleared, then abandoned and returned to scrub and woodland, then cleared again, then overgrazed and overworked, then heavily eroded and left to grassland with occasional farming. Different types of molluscs flourish in different types of soil and vegetation, and examining their remains in the different layers of soil can pinpoint the vegetation (or lack thereof) at the time.

But interestingly, I was dragged off on a tangent to an article about the “Beaker People”. Their culture (there’s a dispute as to whether the people came with their culture or not) arrived in Southern England round about 2500 BC and died out round about 1800 BC, to be replaced by the Bronze Age. What is significant about this period is that during that relatively short time period, about 90% of the genetic make-up of the population of Southern and Eastern England was displaced by an equivalent genetic make-up from Eastern Europe.

Back in here later, I had a few things to do and then I read a couple more chapters of my Welsh course book to do a little revision. However, what with my Teflon brain, nothing will stick.

After that, I had an important task to perform. What with one thing and another … "and until you make a start, you have no idea just how many other things there are" – ed … I hadn’t filed away my correspondence for well over six months, and there were mountains of paperwork everywhere. So I sat down, sorted through it, threw away a pile of unnecessary paperwork and then filed the rest.

It goes without saying that I really ought to be much more organised than I am, although I have said that a hundred times before, and still, nothing has changed.

My faithful cleaner turned up later and shooed me into the shower for a good scrub up and so that I smell nice, not that it will make much difference, I suppose. And then afterwards, we did our monthly sort through the medication and organised a few other things too while we were at it.

After she left, I came back in here to sit down, and that was when I was overwhelmed by an enormous wave of fatigue. I crashed out completely, and for over two hours too. I don’t think that I’ve ever been so far out as I was this afternoon. So much so that when I was finally able to move, I had to have one of these caffeine-laden energy drinks.

Eventually, I managed to pull myself together again and I finished choosing the music for the next radio programme, reformatting where necessary, re-editing and reconverting it.

Tea tonight was a vegan burger with pasta and ratatouille, followed by the last of the jam roly-poly. I’ll have to think of a new dessert for tomorrow, but if all else fails, I bought some tinned fruit, having had my taste buds titillated by the fruit that my neighbour brought me the other week.

But that’s tomorrow. Right now, I’m off to bed, later than usual. And who knows? Maybe I might have a good sleep tonight. Wouldn’t that be nice?

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about shuffling … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of a friend of mine from when I lived in Chester who was bewailing his back luck at the racecourse during one of the racing weeks.
"I don’t understand it" he said. "If I’m having a game of cards, I usually always win, but at the racetrack, I never seem to win anything"
"Well, you shouldn’t blame yourself" I replied. "It’s not your fault that they won’t let you shuffle the horses."

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Monday 9th February 2026 – AFTER LAST NIGHT’S …

… little excitement, things are back to normal now, or, at least, as normal as they can be. Mind you, I’m not ruling out crashing out once more before I finish today’s notes.

As to what happened yesterday, I really don’t know. I was actually feeling quite perky but then, all of a sudden, this dramatic wave of fatigue came out of nowhere and swamped me completely. Three times, I’d gone off with the fairies … "although not in a manner that would excite comment from the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine" – ed … and I simply couldn’t carry on.

At that moment, bed was the best place to be, and so off I went.

It didn’t take long for me to go off to sleep, but I’m sure that you are aware of what happened next. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … and I’ll leave you lot to fill in the rest of the sentence.

So there I was, at 04:00, wondering what to do next. I tried to go off to sleep but to no avail, and at 05:30 I was up and about.

Off I staggered into the bathroom and from there into the kitchen, even though it was so early, where I made my hot drink and took my medicine.

Back in here, determined not to waste the morning, I dictated the outstanding notes that had built up over the last week or so for a couple or three radio programmes.

Well, almost, anyway. As I was dictating the third and last set, the ZOOM H8 stopped recording, and I hadn’t noticed until I’d finished dictating.

Consequently, I re-dictated the notes and once more, it stopped without me noticing until I’d finished this lot.

Subsequent enquiry revealed that the memory was full. I needed to upload the contents of the memory onto one of the backup discs, and do you have any idea how long it takes to upload 64 GB of data?

While it was being busy, I made a start on finishing off last night’s notes, and now they are online for you to peruse.

Isabelle the Nurse interrupted me in mid-flight and I had to wander off to have my feet and legs receive her tender ministrations. It’s her last day today for a week so she was quite happy.

In fact, she’s off for eight days because she and her friends have a float at Carnaval and they will be parading on Tuesday.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of Mortimer Wheeler’s MAIDEN CASTLE .

He’s still discussing pottery, and not just pottery discovered at Maiden Castle but all over Europe. While it’s nice to have the scene well and truly set, it can be overdone and we can drown in a wealth of unnecessary detail.

Once breakfast was over, I came back in here and finished off my notes and then transcribed the dictaphone notes.

There was a Jewish family summoned into the town from out in the countryside. They didn’t really know why but they were obliged to come all the same. One family set out to arrive but the eldest son had to stay somewhere along the road with one of their vehicles that had developed a flat tyre but the rest of the family arrived. The father, who was a little suspicious of the sons noticed some kind of army convoy around in the city and as it set off, he decided to follow it to see where it went. But somewhere in the middle of this, there was something about being in a library where there were all these books on different medicines. It was interesting to note that of all of the different recipes, there was only one company that made its recipes completely open to the public. They were for the three medications that I used to take regularly back in the past so I took the recipes and went to have a read of them. Then this family decided to go out and they had to leave a glass of water behind, so what they did was to drop a couple of drops of ink into it and it went a horrible light brown colour, so they left it. When they returned to the apartment later, they couldn’t find their butler. They had to search for him. Suddenly, they found him sitting on the sofa disguised as a pile of old rags. They asked him for an explanation, and he said that seeing as they hadn’t invited him to go out with them earlier, he took a couple of hours off to go to the local museum but the museum was closed so he came home and dressed up in the hope of giving everyone a really good surprise and a good laugh.

As to where this came from, I have no idea. It doesn’t seem to relate to anything that I’ve been discussing, except, of course, the three medications.

When I’d finished that, I had a few things to do and then I prepared for my Welsh course tomorrow. It does no harm to try to forge ahead while I still can.

My cleaner turned up to apply the anaesthetic on my arm, and after she left, I waited for the taxi.

And I didn’t have to wait long either. He was ten minutes early and he already had one passenger on board. We stopped off at Sartilly to pick up another passenger who travels with me sometimes, and we arrived at dialysis a good twenty minutes early.

Now here’s a thing. Even twenty minutes early, I was last to arrive in the room but another woman, having arrived before me, was still applying an ice pack in preparation, so she let me go first. It’s very rare that that happens, and I appreciated it a great deal.

The doctor came to see me too. He wanted to discuss my cough which, having gone away while I was on antibiotics, is now back again. After some kind of chat, he prescribed yet another course of antibiotics and a couple of other medicaments. After that, they left me pretty much alone.

Having been connected early, I was unplugged early too and the taxi was waiting for me, so I was actually home early. But with the howling gale and driving rain, I was dropped off at the fire escape round the back.

My faithful cleaner helped me inside and after she left I had a few other things to do, and then I went and warmed up my half-pizza, which was followed by fruitcake and soya dessert.

Right now, though, I know that it’s early but I’m off to bed. A good sleep will do me good with my Welsh course tomorrow, but whether or not I actually have a good sleep remains to be seen. Still, if I’m up early, I can always finish off the dictation.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the Carnival… "well, one of us has" – ed … one year, they were giving helicopter rides at €10:00 per person.
The pilot was an ex-Air Force pilot and he told the passengers "if you manage ten minutes without screaming, I’ll give you €100:00."
He puts on a show to end all shows and all of the passengers were screaming, except for one little old man who was totally silent.
When they landed, he gave the man €100:00 and said "that was astonishing. You’re the first person whom I’ve ever taken who managed not to scream. How did you do it?"
"It was actually really difficult" replied the man. "I was going to say something when my wife fell out, but €100:00, it’s €100:00."

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Wednesday 4th February 2026 – AFTER LAST NIGHT’S …

… issues, I have had a very leisurely day today. And while it might seem that I have not done very much at all, I have probably done even less than that. I was still recovering from yesterday’s efforts.

So last night, having failed miserably to complete my notes, I staggered off to bed indecently early and fell asleep quite quickly.

Surprisingly, given how these things usually go, I remained asleep until all of … errr … 05:20. I must really have been totally dead to the World last night.

Despite trying my best, I didn’t manage to go back to sleep so, round about 06:00, I crawled out of bed and dictated the radio notes for the two programmes that I wrote last week. It was fun, though, to say the least, because somewhere near the end of it all will be BILLY COTTON’S RAUCOUS RATTLE. I didn’t quite manage to beat the alarm.

After I’d finished, I went and sorted myself out in the bathroom and then I went into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I went to listen to the dictaphone – except that I didn’t. As I’ve come to type up my notes for tonight, I’ve just realised that I forgot to transcribe them today. Eventually though, the following morning, I managed to catch up with the notes.

Back in the USA, the President was having some idea of creating his own version of the Republican Guard that the Romans had. His idea was to recruit a couple of the best soldiers of each ethnic origin of people in the United States, and he would use that as an example of diversity and an example of strength and unity. But as usual, what happened was that when the President sent a call out to his regiments, the regiments took advantage by sending away a couple of their weakest members. When the President heard this, he was talking about raising a punishment battalion and putting all these battalion leaders in it, using it as an example of what happens when you try something as borderline criminal and it fails to work correctly. However, his allies in the French parliament managed to talk him out of doing something like this.

This is obviously no reference whatsoever to a certain president of the USA who created his own force with the express intention of crushing as brutally as possible the ethnic minorities of his country. However, it was a well-known trick in the British (and probably other) armed forces to use any kind of draft whatsoever to move any unsatisfactory member of a unit from their service and into someone else’s.

There was also a dream something like THE GREAT ESCAPE but with Burt Reynolds and Sally Field in it. They were fleeing from the justice as they did in SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT and in one particular incident, they had to leap over the edge of a cliff on skis. That’s something that you can do in snow but there was no snow in this particular dream. However, they still managed to make it down to the bottom. But when they were about two hundred yards from the frontier, Sally Field had a fall. Burt Reynolds stayed behind to help her and they were both captured. But then there was an alternative ending to this where they actually managed, or Burt Reynolds managed, to cross the barbed wire fence into a different country and managed to bring Sally Field over just as the sheriff and his posse pulled up on the road twenty feet away. There was some huge debate amongst the sheriff and the posse about whether to cross the border anyway to catch them and bring them back. But this border, it was a road with a ditch and a couple of strands of barbed wire fence. Once you were over the road and ditch and through the barbed wire fence, you were in a different country. Sally Field made it enormously complicated to climb through this fence of two or three strands of barbed wire, but when this posse was roaming up and down the border and no-one was sure whether they were going to cross or not, there were all kinds of instructions going around the town that people shouldn’t go anywhere near the border and keep well within their own side just in case they were kidnapped and taken back across. I was in this Spanish bar or restaurant or something near the border. It was lunchtime, so I went to ask for some patatas fritas. They replied in Spanish, which I didn’t quite understand. There was a queue out for this takeaway place, a typical traditional Spanish place, nothing modern, and I was in the queue for this. When I reached the front, I asked for the patatas fritas. They said something that I didn’t quite understand, so they said in English that it would be seventeen minutes. I said that I’d wait. Then I decided that I’d do something that I hadn’t done for years. I went into the bar place and asked for a cerveza. He said again something in Spanish that I didn’t quite catch, so I asked him to repeat it. He asked “what cerveza would you like?” I replied “I don’t know. What do you have?” He asked “would you like a beer from Sandbach?” I asked “you did say Sandbach, didn’t you?” He replied that he did, so I wondered how on earth he knew that I came from somewhere near Sandbach in Cheshire. But I said that I’d much rather have a Spanish beer.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall the plots of the films “The Great Escape” and “Smokey and the Bandit” so I shan’t enlarge on them, but the crossing of borders to seize people and bring them back is a common Fascist tactic by certain countries that have no respect whatsoever for international law.

As for the dream itself, after I retired from work in 2004, I studied Spanish at night school in Brussels for eighteen months before moving down to the Auvergne. As for the beer, the last time I drank any alcohol was in 1994 in Bulgaria when, stranded up a mountain in the snow and fog when the ski lifts closed down unexpectedly, we had to pick our way down from up the mountain into the valley, leaping from crag to crag on skis as Burt Reynolds and Sally Field did. We found a little wayside inn halfway down, and, being so exhausted, we had a rest and a drink, even if the only drink on offer was beer.

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

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

Anyway, Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual. She managed to find me in the apartment instead of off on a medical appointment so she sorted out my feet and so on, and I could push on.

Once she’d left, I could make breakfast and read some more of Mortimer Wheeler’s MAIDEN CASTLE .

And being now well into the book, I can see why people considered James Curle’s A ROMAN FRONTIER POST AND ITS PEOPLE to be "ahead of its time and still the most decisive work published in Scotland covering this period of Roman occupation".

Curle’s book was a masterpiece of precision and accuracy with very little speculation. On the other hand, Mortimer Wheeler, considered by many to be the leading archaeologist of the period, twenty-five years later, has written a book that leaps about from one place to another without any real coherency, and it’s full of assumptions and speculation.

There is page after page after page of what the Romans might have done in Wessex, based on the scantiest of evidence. And in any case, none of it has anything to do with the excavations at the site. It’s all pretty much irrelevant.

We can see that for the period from about 70 AD to, say, 300 AD, the site was empty and being used as farmland, but the whys and wherefores of that are of no interest at all, whether or … "in this case " – ed … not there is any solid evidence to support it.

However, a couple of his comments did lead me on to some more Neolithic cursus and barrow sites, and I was wandering around in cyberspace for a while.

Back in here, I finished off the notes from last night, and one or two other things too, and had a chat with Alison who is not at all well right now. I sent her all my best, and I wish that there was something that I could do for her. It’s terrible when we are both holed up like this.

A couple of other people wanted a chat too, people whom I hadn’t seen for ages and ages. In one of these chats, however, I’m not sure what happened, but another contributor thought that I wasn’t real and I was thrown off the chat site.

Me? Not real? You couldn’t make it up, could you?

There was also a telephone interview with my internet supplier. I’d been asking for a compte-rendu of the failure of the engineer to install my fibre-optic cable but despite several reminders, he’s not replied.

Of course, I can’t go and knock the building about on my own. Firstly, it’s a listed building here and secondly, it’s the responsibility of the residents’ committee to deal with these issues. And without a compte-rendu in writing, they can’t do anything at all. So I’ve arranged for a further survey to take place on Wednesday next week so that he can check the work of the first guy and provide the technical report.

It goes without saying that I’ve invited the residents’ committee and the estate agent who deals with the building, as well as a few others, to attend, to witness the event and to take copious notes. And it also goes without saying that the only replies that I have received are to say that certain people can’t make it. Voting with their feet and heading for the hills, I shouldn’t wonder.

There was time to write some (but not much) of the notes for the radio programme. It was disappointing that I didn’t finish, and that I’m a long way from finishing too, but these things happen occasionally when there’s a combination of different services that arises. I must do better tomorrow – after all, I can hardly do worse.

So with no tea tonight except some crackers and vegan cheese, I’m going to bed ready … "I don’t think" – ed … for dialysis tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about forgetfulness … "well, one of us has" – ed … It’s only fair to mention the state of anyone’s memory and the two things that happen when they reach the magic age of threescore years and ten
"The first thing that happens is that you forget absolutely everything you ever remember" I said to a friend.
"And what’s the second thing?" she asked.
"I don’t know" I replied. "I’ve forgotten."

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Tuesday 20th January 2026 – AS I HAVE …

… said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s pointless going to bed early, because all that it means is that I awaken correspondingly early the next morning.

So last night, having had a quick, ready-made tea and with nothing much to say for myself … "makes a change" – ed … I was able to finish everything off at some kind of respectable time, like 21:55, and I was in bed about twenty minutes later.

Not only that, I was fast asleep quite quickly too despite the wracking cough and the stabbing pain in my foot, and there I lay until all of … errr … 02:30. And that, dear reader, was that.

Well, not exactly, to be honest. I did manage to fall asleep again round about 04:30 but only for about 30 minutes. I lay there for another half-hour trying my best to go back to sleep, but in the end, I abandoned the idea and left the bed.

Taking full advantage of the early start, I dictated the radio notes for no fewer than three radio programmes that were in the pipeline. I’d even managed to edit one of them by the time the alarm sounded.

When the alarm sounded, I headed off into the bathroom for a superficial wash (because I’ll be showering later) and then wandered off for my hot drink and medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And I was surprised to find that, despite the short night, I had actually managed to go travelling.

For some reason, there were a few of us being handcuffed. First of all, when they went to try to handcuff me, they dropped the handcuffs and fell about twenty feet down onto the ground. It took them quite some recovery time in order to rescue them. Then, when they had rescued them and they had to start again, it still wasn’t actually working correctly at all and I had a feeling that my whole upper body was totally twisted round and I had no idea what was going on when this was happening

As Europe prepares for imminent war, this dream is not as far-fetched as it may seem. As well as that, I’ve been deliberately steering clear of commenting on the state of current events because there is much more going to be going on in the very near future, but it’s interesting to recap on something that I WROTE IN MAY 2005 that is likely to come to pass in the very near future.

This was about a tribe of Africans, somewhere in Africa in years gone by who had invented a process of heating water. They had managed to make flexible copper pipe and had succeeded in coiling it around the chimney of a cast-iron stove. They poured cold water in at one end that went down a pipe and swirled around the coil that was around the chimney. When the chimney was lit, it heated the water and the water came out the other side and it was quite hot. This was the kind of thing that took the earliest European explorers completely by surprise.

This was actually a project of mine for down on the farm when I finally had my big stove installed on the ground floor. However, we never managed to make it that far. But it would be interesting indeed if some fifteenth- and sixteenth-century Africans had developed flexible copper piping.

I had plenty of things to do in the garden so I went outside and began to make a start. I was gradually organising everything and there were all these people heading past. They all seemed to be on their way to the local school, the children and adults. They were chatting and one of them was talking about the swimming baths, and they might need a bath cap to go into the swimming pool. They were trying to arrange between themselves where to pick one up and who would lend one to them. There were a couple of little girls going past, picking wild flowers as they went. Then I had to go for a walk to somewhere else so I set off. It was up some kind of hill and there was that much water, even though it was a nice day, that the road was like a river. It was very difficult to find a dry spot in order to go to where I wanted to go. My appointment was at 17:30 but I’d set out at 17:00, but I’d seen this motorcycle for sale, a big five-litre two-wheeled thing, and I was so impressed with it that I thought that I would come back to have a ride on it and maybe even to buy it. But one thing that I’d been noticing throughout this dream was that I wasn’t on my crutches at all and was walking quite normally. When someone asked me about it, I said that I had days when I could walk around like this and other days when I needed crutches. But it’s rather embarrassing when I go back to school when I’m on crutches because I’m called all kinds of names by the other kids.

My house at Gainsborough Road was at a junction of roads that led to four different schools so there were always kids and parents going past. The motorbike was interesting too – five litres on two wheels! But how many times is this now that I’ve been walking without my crutches during the night?

Isabelle the Nurse came by this morning to start her round. She was dressed as a leopard today, furry jacket and spotted slacks. We had a brief chat and then she pushed off, leaving me to my breakfast and A ROMAN FRONTIER POST AND ITS PEOPLE

Today, we’ve moved on beyond armour and are discussing weapons. James Curle has identified some of the swords as being of Celtic origin and believes that this indicates that a cohort of native mercenaries was recruited to swell the numbers in the garrison.

On the other hand, it could equally mean that it was Celtic warriors from Galloway who actually attacked the fort and drove out the Romans, causing them to flee to Hadrian’s Wall in round about 120 AD.

Back here, I revised for my Welsh and then went for my lesson. It was another one that passed quite well, due to the amount of preparation that I’d done. I wish that I could persevere and do this all the time.

When my faithful cleaner appeared, she shooed me into the bathroom for a shower, so I’m a nice, clean boy now. And then I had to pack up and wrap the computer that I’m sending back to my online retailer, mainly because it was so late arriving.

Once my cleaner had left, I attacked the next radio programme whose notes I’d dictated earlier. That’s now finished and ready to go, and there was even time to make a start on the next one.

Tea was the last of the leek, potato and mushroom soup, which I had with some bread out of the freezer. It was followed by Christmas cake, which still seems to be going strong. Not much left now, and then I can go back to the jam roly-poly and the spotted dick.

But right now, I’m off to bed again, hoping for a better night tonight, although I doubt it very much with this cough, this pain in my foot and now my nose that’s streaming like a tap again.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about kids going to school … "well, one of us has" – ed … I once heard a story about someone who refused to go.
When his mother asked him why, he replied "I don’t want to go to school. All the kids hate me, all the teachers hate me, all the dinner ladies hate me, the gardener and the secretary hate me, and even Norah the Nit-Nurse hates me. In fact, everyone hates me<"
"Look dear" said his mother, soothingly. "You have to go to school"
"Give me one good reason why."
"Well, dear, You ARE the Headmaster."

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Friday 16th January 2026 – AS I HAVE …

said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s a waste of time going to bed early, because all that it means is that I wake up correspondingly early the following morning.

Take last night, for example. I went to bed at some time round about 21:00 and I was wide-awake again at 03:20.

Yes, I was totally wasted last night, and I’ve no idea why. However, it seems to be connected with my dialysis sessions. But anyway, I couldn’t keep my eyes open and after having fallen asleep I don’t know how many times, I gave up everything and went straight to bed.

And there I stayed until all of 03:20 when I awoke. Not that I left the bed at that time, of course. I lay there drifting about in a haze for a while and at one point did actually manage to go back to sleep.

But not for long. At about 05:25 I was wide-awake again and at 05:40, I fell out of bed.

With plenty to do, I took full advantage of the early start. I dictated the notes for the joining track of a radio programme that needs finishing and then dictated the notes for another programme, leaving just the joining track to be done now, when I know how long it needs to be.

When the alarm went off, I went for a good scrub up and then into the kitchen for my hot drink and my medication. I do like my hot honey, lemon and ginger drink.

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

There were a load of TV cameras around Nantwich last night. In fact it was a Sunday morning, and it was a kind of street racing thing for motorbikes. The motorbikes had come from all over Europe and probably the World to see these races, and the streets were crowded. It started off with a race by quads. They started in the town square and went out by Hospital Street. Once they were out in the country, they were racing through fields, etc., where there was plenty of mud and sliding, etc., and then back along Millstone Lane and Beam Street and into the town centre again via the market hall. The first quad race was won by someone or other, but the second race was won by someone from Nantwich, which was quite a surprise and was well applauded. There were all kinds of these races. One of the races involved horseboxes, lorries transformed into horseboxes rather than towed ones. That, apparently, was total carnage as they kept on slipping and overturning in the mud. There was someone who managed to complete the run in record time, but no-one else managed to return for quite some considerable time. It all ended with a football match in the mud. Stanley Matthews was playing for Blackpool. He had a beautiful header that went to someone from Huddersfield Town. One of the attractions was a Lotus Cortina used as a rally car in the late 1960s. It was on display, and someone was saying that it cost £2,000 when new, but it’s probably worth a hundred times that now. The car transporter that was bringing it was at the garage having a hose-down because it was rather dirty.

This would have been an exciting event to see, and no mistake. But competing with St Mary’s Church on a Sunday morning would have invoked Divine retribution without any doubt at all. But where did the football match fit in?

However, there did used to be a world-championship-class motorcycle scrambling venue at Hatherton, just outside Nantwich, in the 1960s, and my brother and I would cycle there regularly to watch the races. But unfortunately, motorcycle scrambling is very much a thing of the past today.

There were three criminals who had broken into a house. Their aim was to take away the safe that was on the first floor. They planned to do this by cutting away the ceiling underneath it and letting it drop onto the ground floor. As the householder was in, how on earth they expected to do it without waking him, I really don’t know. They set out to be extremely silent but they began to make a little noise so one of them went to position himself at the foot of the stairs. Sure enough, the householder came downstairs and he reached the bottom stair. The crook who was there hit him in the face with a shoe, knocked him unconscious and then ran. Eventually, his friends caught up with him. They were disappointed because with the householder now being unconscious, they could have gone ahead and removed the safe. However, the guy reminded them that the safe weighed fifty-two tonnes, so how were they going to move it? They replied that they had a block and tackle and could lift it into the back of a van. He felt that at fifty-two tonnes, that would be absurd. The police became involved but couldn’t identify any of the crooks, even though that one particular crook was very well-known to the police. But something that was interesting was that one of the other two was having an unofficial relationship with the Asiatic wife of this householder, and they had been seen together on a couple of occasions after this attempted burglary.

Wherever this dream came from, I’ve no idea at all. It doesn’t seem to relate to anything that has happened recently. But trying to fit a fifty-two tonne safe into the back of a van is a clear absurdity

The nurse was early yet again and didn’t hang around long, so I could push on and make breakfast.

And read some more of A ROMAN FRONTIER POST AND ITS PEOPLE.

Our author, James Curle, has begun the excavations and at the moment he’s uncovered a couple of skeletons lying on the floor under sixteen hundred years of accumulated soil and two severed heads tossed down an abandoned well. Fun times indeed on the Roman limes.

After breakfast, I had a few things to do and then pushed on with finishing off the radio programme that I’d started the other day. That’s all written now (except for the joining track) although it took a while because there’s almost no information anywhere about the groups that played at this particular festival. In the end, I had to resort to setting an artificial intelligence searchbot off on the hunt.

My work was interrupted by the arrival of my faithful cleaner who had come down to do her stuff. I noticed from the shopping that she had left that she had been down earlier, but I hadn’t heard a thing.

Anyway, she shooed me into the shower and now I’m a nice, clean boy with nice, clean clothes. And that makes me feel better.

She carried on with her stuff while I was sorting myself out, and after she left, I finally finished my notes. To round off the day, I edited the notes that I had dictated for the joining track for one of my programmes and assembled the programme. That’s now ready to go.

And with what time was left, I carried on with editing the next lot of notes, but I didn’t manage to go very far because with the new version of my sound editor, one of my favourite effects, “adjustable fade” seems to have been dropped and now I’m stuck.

Tea tonight was sausage, chips and home-made baked beans followed by Christmas cake. But the beans aren’t really as successful as I would have liked, and I’ve pretty much decided that if I don’t have any visitors from the UK in the near future, I’ll have to order a tray of beans online.

So now having finished my notes, I’m off to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about motorcycles … "well, one of us has" – ed … we were once riding through the Wirral on a friend’s Velocette 500 when we were stopped by the police.
"What’s up, officer?" asked Ray
"I’m going to have to give you a ticket. You’re riding with three people on the seat"
"Three? Three?" asked Ray, incredulously
"Yes, three" insisted the policeman
"Blimmin’ ‘eck" said Ray, looking at the rest of us. "Can anyone remember where Alvin fell off?"

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Friday 9th January 2026 – I WAS RIGHT …

… about the storm.

Having abandoned everything after tea and gone to bed, I settled down underneath the quilt and fell sleep quite quickly. And there I lay until all of … errr … 02:39.

The wind that awoke me was the noisiest that I have ever encountered – and believe me, I’ve heard some noisy ones. It sounded as if it was definitely at its climax and it carried on like that for at least two hours. Sleep was impossible

Round about 05:00, having lain awake for a couple of hours, I left the bed, had a wash, went to take my medicine and to make my hot drink, and then came back in here to write up yesterday’s notes. They are all done and dusted now and posted online.

It took much longer than expected, due to this steam-driven computing that I’m using at the moment, And that led me to think of a cunning plan, more of which anon.

Isabelle the Nurse blew in with the breeze and didn’t stay long. She mentioned that she had not encountered any fallen trees on her circuit so far, or seen any visible sings of damage. One thing that she mentioned though was that just up the coast at Cherbourg, a gust of 213 kph had been recorded, and surely that’s a record for this area.

After she left, I made breakfast – the usual porridge, toast and coffee. However, it left me with the most terrible stomach ache and I really was feeling quite ill afterwards.

With the wind having died down slightly, it was quieter in the office and so, the early start having caught up with me, I went to lie down for a while to catch up with my beauty sleep and to try to sleep off this stomach ache.

So there I lay until all of … errr … 11:45. That was a good two hours, and I felt as if I’d needed it too. There was plenty of work to do, tidying up files and the like, but the most important was to start another batch of home-made baked beans.

Rather than try again with soaking dried beans, I’d bought a large tin of beans soaked in brine. I want to see if these are any more successful – i.e. less hard. That first batch that I made really were too hard.

The beans themselves are too big for baked beans. They are about twice the size of normal ones, but you have to go with what you’ve got, I suppose.

In the meantime, I’d had a parcel delivery. It was a laptop computer, but not the one that I want. It was the one that I’d tried to cancel and which should, according to the supplier, be still at the factory. So what’s going on here then?

All that I know is that it will be going back on Monday once the confirmation of receipt is lodged at the supplier’s office. In the meantime, I’ll wait for the other.

That took me up to my cleaner arriving, and the first thing that she did after she’d organised the bathroom was to shoo me under the shower to make up for that which I didn’t have on Tuesday. While I was washing, she picked up the huge pile of paper that was lying on the floor following my tidying-up the other day, and rushed it to the bin across the road.

After she left, I put my cunning plan … "see above" – ed … into action.

What I did was to take out the desktop computer from the cupboard where I’d put it the other day, and I began to strip it down.

The aim was to take out the power pack, see if there was a built-in fuse, and if not, to note the details of the pack so that I could order a new one.

After a lengthy struggle, I finally managed to locate the securing screws and remove them, and then to deal with taking out the power pack. But this is where "the best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men gang aft agley an’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain for promis’d joy".

Unbelievably, the cables are hard-wired into the transformer rather than being plugged in. And whoever had assembled it had obviously done so before the motherboard had gone in, because there was no way to move the cables without dismantling practically everything.

Nevertheless, we did have a Plan B. If I have a motherboard, a case, a processor, 96GB of RAM, a DVD drive etc, I’m halfway to an office computer anyway. Disks are easy to obtain , so is a power pack, and so would be an uprated processor.

Consequently, I sent an e-mail to the computer technician at the radio, to involve him or one of his friends into helping me rebuild this one into an even leaner, fitter, fighting machine. We’ll have to see if he replies. It’s certainly going to be quicker and cheaper than the only quote that I’ve had to date. I’m still trying to recover after that one.

While I was a-dismantling, I had a message on the ‘phone. "Can you spare a minute?"

It was Rosemary with a little problem and needed some quick help. So there we were, one hour and sixteen minutes later, still chatting about not very much. She seems to think quite highly of my theory, a theory that I have had for some time, that Caligula, Putin and Xi in China have had an agreement to divide up the World between them – Caligula in the Americas, Putin in Europe and Xi in Asia.

This explains Caligula’s mad panic about Greenland. He’s suddenly realised that when Russia occupies Denmark, it will also inherit Greenland as a colony of Denmark. And when Russia is installed in Greenland, it can control the North Atlantic and also the North-West Passage to the Pacific, and he’s scared stiff.

That, in my opinion, was one of Hitler’s two big mistakes – the first was not pushing on and taking Gibraltar and the second was not landing several divisions of troops in Iceland and Greenland while he had the upper hand.

Hard at work later, I suddenly realised that I’d forgotten to transcribe the dictaphone notes, so that was the next task.

There was something about my cousins in Whitchurch in Shropshire and something else that involved some kind of stately home owner, a Lord or something or other. I remember saying to him that really, he should have been able to have his own car. He replied that he did at one time, before all of this happened, but that’s all that I seem to be able to remember of this

My father’s sister and her husband had ten children (I think that my family was trying to start a new race of humans) and their progress around from farm to farm can be plotted by where her children ended up. Some are in Bronington still, some are in Whitchurch, some are in Barbridge and some are in Crewe. I lost count a long time ago of who is where.

All of that work had worn me out and I ended up crashing out again for twenty minutes. That took me up to tea time so I wandered off into the kitchen.

Tea was sausage, chips and home-made baked beans followed by Christmas cake for pudding. The beans were OK, I suppose, but they aren’t like real baked beans and I’ll have to do my best to liberate some more real ones, I suppose. A tray of twenty-four tins from a leading manufacturer costs €53:99 delivered, and I suppose that I shall have to bite the bullet one of these days.

But not now of course, because I’m off to bed. The wind has died down considerably from earlier and it’s a lot quieter now. Looking at the data from the weather station down the road, we had gusts of wind at the apogee of the storm blowing as much as 140 kph and that’s some going. And although it’s gusting a lot less, it’s still wreaking havoc. It should have been the final round of matches in the first phase of the JD Cymru League tonight but every single one has been postponed until Tuesday night. So there’s nothing else to do but go to bed.

But seeing as we have been talking about Caligula … "well, one of us has" – ed …, three men met in a prison cell in Leavenworth, Kansas, after the next Presidential election in 2028.
They ask the first one why he was in prison. "I’ve been here since 2025" he replied. "I was a bitter opponent of Caligula"
They turn to the second one. "And you?"
"I’ve been here since just after the recent election. I was a fanatical supporter of Caligula"
They turn to the third one. "And you?"
"I’ve only just arrived" he replied. "And I am Caligula."

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Saturday 3rd January 2026 – WHAT A DAY …

… this has been today!

There hasn’t been a moment, I reckon, when I’ve stopped to relax. It’s been non-stop all day and the irony of it all is that there was very little of it that was actually in my plans this morning when I awoke.

It all went wrong this morning at … errr … 03:20, when I had another one of these dramatic awakenings that I sometimes have. Sitting bolt-upright wondering what on earth was happening, totally bewildered when I looked at the time, and then not being able to go back to sleep.

Not that it had been a long night either. By the time that I’d written my notes, done the stats, done the back-up and everything else, it was abut 23:30 when I slid underneath the covers. And although I went to sleep quite quickly, it wasn’t for long.

So there I lay, for a good few hours, tossing and turning and trying to go to sleep without any success whatsoever, and in the end, round about 05:30,I gave it up as a bad job and left the bed.

The first thing that I did was to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And, regrettably, I’d not gone far

I was in hospital in Ancient Rome. I was a member of the military for some particular reason, although I’m not quite sure why. That was really all that I remember except that song again, THE BOY WHO WOULDN’T HOE CORN somewhere in the background, sung by a choir rather than a musical piece, that kind of thing, with no music – just the voices singing it.

As if anyone would be likely to find me in the military. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … if it had ever come down to a war when I was of fighting age, I’d have been in the Merchant Navy. But there is more relevance in this dream than meets the eye at first sight.

After than, I went to chck on where I was with the radio programmes and although this laptop isn’t powerful enough to undertake any serious radio work, I began to prepare the next two radio programmes. Both of these will be concerts, from my inexhaustible supply of concert tapes thanks to several frinds of mine in the past who worked on sound desks.

When the alarm went off, I staggered off into the bathroom for a good wash and change of clothes, and then set the washing machine off on a cycle … "it’s a clever machine, this!" – ed … Once it was under way, I went into the kitchen for the hot ginger, lemon and honey drink qnd my medication.

Back in here, I carried on with the radio programmes, going through the thousands of concert tapes and trying to identify the dates thereof, but the nurse breezed in early so I was interrupted. He sorted out my legs, had a little chat, saying how ill he’d been during the night, and then he departed. I went to make breakfast, but no reading matter as the laptop is in the office substituting for the dead desktop machine.

By the time that I’d finished, the washing machine had stopped so I went to hang out the washing – my cleaner had put out the clothes airer yesterday when she was here. But hanging up the washing is now becoming a difficult task and I might have to ask for help before long. What kind of a state am I in?

Many years ago, I had an older laptop that was runnng on Windows 7 but had died unceremoniosly not long after the support for Windows 7 was discontinued. I went on a mission to hunt it down and when I found it, I took it into the office.

The plan was to take out the hard drive and see whether it could be resurrected. That, however, was easier said than done. There was no hatch for quick access to the hard drive (which was probably why I hadn’t upgraded it to an SSD when I upgraded everything else) so I had to dismantle the entire case.

Eventually, after much binding in the marsh, I managed to extract it. I stuck it into my 2.5 inch caddy and plugged it into the travelling laptop, but “nothing”. The Disk Managemet picked up a phantom drive but wouldn’t let me initialise it, so that was that.

And then I had a rather wild idea.

Rummaging about on my shelves, I came across my box of old hard drives. There was a 500GB hard drive (not a SSD) that was not marked as defective so I plugged it into the computer. And aafter an hour or two of careful coaxing, I managed to persuade everything to fire up.

Bu to give you some idea of how old this hard drive is, I couldn’t at first make it accept the password. It was only after much thought and many attempts that I realised that the language settings were not “French French” but “Belgian French” – and I’d left Belgium in 2006.

So once it was running, which was a surprise in itself, I changed the language settings and screwed the case back together. And if you think that this one that I’m using now is steam-drivn computing, the other one mus be horse-drawn computing, that’s for sure.

And then we had another problem. And you won’t believe this … "or maybe you will" – ed … but the hard drive on this laptop had now failed. That was all that I needed! After an hour or so of trying some superficial checks, I went for an in-depth examination and finally afte about five hours of working on it, it’s now restored and working, minus the last three Windows ugrades.

But every cloud has a silver lining. A lot of the process was automatic and needed no input from me, so I began to tidy out the boxes that were littlering the room after the house move. THey are now unpacked and sorted, and the place looks much tidier.

There were several unexpeced finds too. The wi-fi aerials for the big desktop computer than I knew I had and couldn’t find, for example, which was why I’d been running that machine off an ethernet cable. I’d been looking for them for months and it’s a shame that I found them a week after I no longer had any use for them.

And finally, I found the power pack for the Roland bass cube, also after many months of searching. At least, I think that it’s the correct one. It’s a generic Chinese thing, so I asked my Artificial Intellignce sourse to describe the power characteristics of the correct power pack, and this one fits the bill. In the past, I used to mark things like this so that I knew where they went and what they were for, so I hunted down one of my metalic markers and wrote “Roland Cube” on the power pack.

Something else I came across was the power pack and cables for the 2TB external hard drive that I found the other day, so that’s now plugged in and running. Piles of rubbish on it, so I’m slowly going through it all to either transfer or delete it. But plugging that in led to a tidying up of the plate of spaghetti of cables that is on the shelf above my head where the back-up disks, the printer, the studio amplifier and the internet box are

But here’s a thing. Since I bought my first “Acer” laptop in 2006, I have had five of them in total and they are all here – the earliest three in bits, the one that I repaired this morning and the travelling laptop that is now up and running again after its blip this morning. But would you believe – I can only find one power cable. The idea of repairing the older one early this morning was to use it just as a library and keep it on the kitchen table, storing all of my E-nooks, but that plan is a non-starter if I can’t find a cable.

So now, with a nice, tidy office, all of that took me right up to teatime. Tonight, it was baked potato, veg and a burger in a bun followed by Christmas pudding and vegan ice-cream. I’m running low on milk so no custard tonight. That’s all of the Christmas pudding gone now so on Monday, I’ll go back and attack the jam roly-poly.

Back in here again, I crashed out, and for an hour or so too, which is hardly a surprise after everything that I’ve done today. I’m totally exhausted, and I’ve hardly done anything that I had planned to do. Not that it’s important tonight that I’m running late, because I’m planning on a lie-in tomorrow morning and the nurse can shake me awake.

But seeing as we have been talking abou language confiusion … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of a story concerning Oscar Wilde that took place in Paris after he had been exiled there following his conviction for improper conduct in the UK.
Hearing an Englishman in a café struggling to place an order, he went over to see if he could be of any help.
"I can manage quite well" retorted the Englishman, indignantly.
"I thought differently" said Wilde "when I heard you ask the waiter to bring you a pair of stairs."

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