… to all our readers.

And so it once said on the walls of the public conveniences on Crewe Bus Station, now sadly demolished after a life of just 60 years.

a World-famous place were the toilets on Crewe Bus Station. The number of times I’ve GONE DOWN TO THE BOG AND WARMED MY FEET at Crewe Bus Station. And of course, I passed my Biology ‘O-Level’ only thanks to the helpful drawings on the back of the doors, and future generations will all be denied the privilege of the revision notes, and also of knowing the whereabouts of Kilroy that particular week.

But I digress … "again" – ed …

It will probably be after midnight when you read these notes, because I’m much later even than usual today, but anyway, I hope that you had a wonderful Christmas and that Santa was kind to you.

As for me, it’s one year closer to destiny. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … no-one with this illness has lived longer than 11 years so I’m due to be gone by November 2026 at the latest.

And to be honest, regular readers of this rubbish will recall several occasions where I’ve been teetering on the edge of throwing in the towel. In the Summer I was actually preparing my funeral. One of these days I’ll not be able to pull myself out of wherever I slide into

Last night though, I had difficulty sliding out of my chair and into my bed. I was working away at a couple of things that I was doing and 01:00 came round, then 02:00 and finally 03:00 which was when I called it a night and went to bed.

What awoke me was a message on my telephone. And to my dismay, it was merely 08:40. No alarm, hoping for a nice long lie-in, and it was 08:40. By 09:00 I’d given up trying to sleep and rose up from the Slough of Despond and staggered off into the bathroom.

There is no nurse this morning, which is just as well, so I made breakfast. Porridge and toast with vegan cheese spread, beans on toast with sausage and home-made hash browns, and I forgot the mushrooms. Plenty of strong black coffee of course.

For Christmas morning I like to have a nice brunch-type breakfast. It’s not on the scale of a Taylor Breakfast Brunch in New Brunswick, with people known to have travelled hundred miles to partake, but it will do.

While I was eating, I was reading MY NEW BOOK.

Today we’re discussing the coming of the Bronze Age to the British isles, some Centuries after it had spread all over the Continent, and also the hundreds of hillforts that were built round about this time.

His writing is nothing really but page after page after page of pure assumption and guesswork, rather spoiled by the sideways swipes that he takes at his contemporaries who are also writing books based on sheer, but different assumptions.

As for hillforts, using a lovely bit of rhetorical hyperbole, he tells us that "they are conspicuous on nearly all the hilly districts of England, Wales, and Scotland".

He passes lightly over the construction of the forts which is a shame because there is a lot to say about theat. And then he mentions next-to-nothing at all about what I consider the most astonishing points –

Firstly, who organised the construction? We stood on one back in 2006 and noted that it was immense, and there are many forts much bigger than where we were. The labour that went into building one of those must have been enormous, and someone must have had enough influence on the local population to oblige them to participate for as long as it took to build them, abandoning their work on the land.

Secondly, who was threatening them that they needed the protection of one of these hillforts? It can’t have been anyone insignificant like a local rival tribe. These forts are much more significant than just a simple refuge from marauding bands.

For once, he doesn’t say very much, and that’s disappointing. I expected streams of comment about hillforts.

Back in here I listened to the dictaphone to find out what had been going on during the night. There was a party of elves out on a patrol somewhere. They came across a small group of humans trying to move surreptitiously through the long grass. Rather reluctantly the elves took it upon themselves to escort these humans through this disputed territory and out the other side, in the hope that no-one else crosses the threshold and brings danger with them. When they were halfway across they were ambushed in a surprise attack by a group of orcs and so many of their people were actually killed. The elf leader was standing there despondent. He caused everyone, including the two of us, to sing a song praising the elves, the heroic of the elves. I asked how much longer we had to serve. He replied “not very many at all” but he expected us, having undergone our education and schooling with the elves, to stay behind in this time of danger and repay the State by fighting on its behalf.

Elves and Orcs? I must stop watching THE HOBBIT as I eat my tea. It’s hobbit-forming. And did you notice how half-way through, the “they” turned to a “us”? When did I become involved in this dream.

Back in the olden days, not only was university tuition free, students received maintenance grants to go to University too. And many of them still had to do their National Service when they graduated – a way of repaying the State “by fighting on its behalf”

Today, I have emulated my namesake the mathematician by doing three-fifths of five-eights of … errr … nothing. Really I haven’t. I found some football to watch and then I’ve been playing about sorting some directories out on the computer.

That however caused me to be so engrossed that I didn’t even think about lunch but I will tell you something for nothing, and that is that my mince pies and Christmas cake are really wonderful. I have really produced something exceptional with that lot and I was so pleased when I sampled it at 16:00 during my hot chocolate break. I’ll make some more of that if I’m still here next year.

Tea was my Christmas dinner of course, minus the stuffing that I forgot to make. It was a slice of that vegan wellington that has been in the freezer since last year, with steamed veg (including endives, sprouts, cauliflower and leeks) but I was so full after that I decided to forego the Christmas pudding. That shall be tomorrow’s pudding, and for a few days after too.

So it’s now after midnight and I’m letting it all hang out yet again. Still working too at this time of night. Whatever next?

But talking about the long grass in that dream … "well, one of us is" – ed … reminds me of the explorers in the savannah of South Africa in the 19th Century who came across a tribe of pygmies, previously undiscovered by Europeans
The reason why they had remained undiscovered for so long was that they were only three feet tall, and the savannah grass was four feet tall so they had never been seen.
Cecil Rhodes, the British Administrator sent for one of the explorers and asked him what he knew about the tribe
"They have a very strange dance that they do, jumping up and down" and he said "and they are called the “Hellawi” tribe"
"How did you come to find that out?" asked Rhodes
"They told me" said the explorer.
"How did they do that"
"There they were, in the savannah, doing their dance, jumping up and down" said the explorer "and shouting ‘we’re the Hellawi’."

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