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Tuesday 26th November 2024 – HOW LONG IS IT …

… since I’ve had a day where I’ve not done very much more than relax?

And before anyone says anything, I know that I shouldn’t because I have far too much work to do and not very much time to do it, but I had a nice, relaxing day all the same.

Last night, though, it was another late night. Not as late as some have been but still after 23:00. And once in bed I slept the Sleep of the Dead and remember almost nothing of whatever might (or might not) have happened during the night.

When the alarm went off I staggered into the bathroom as usual and had a good wash, then came back in here to listen to the dictaphpne to find out where I’d been during the night. There was something about FX4 taxis in London, whether I was thinking of buying one or going to work as a taxi driver but suddenly I was sent out on a mission to Brazil. While I was there my guide or whatever, she took me to several taxi proprietors in Brazil and I even had a ride in a new FX4 – a drive. I didn’t like it at all. I made a few enquiries about other things while I was there, the result of which was that by the time I came back to the UK I’d had a complete change of mind. My boss called me in and asked me what I thought of Brazil so I told him. Then I asked about the taxis so I told him that I’d given it some thought and now I’d decided that I was against it. He explained that that was why he’d sent me to Brazil, that I’d have some experience about making a decision when I would come back. He asked me quite pointedly “you didn’t actually drive any of them while you were there, did you?”. I replied “yes, I drove one or two”. That really took him by surprise and upset him for some reason.

What an FX4 would be doing in Brazil I really have no idea. There used to be thousands of them in London (and there probably still are quite a few) and any time-expired ones would be scattered to the four winds. I’ve seen them in France, Germany, the USA and Canada but Brazil would be most unlikely. I almost had one once, and not as a taxi. But when I was looking for a vehicle to come to Belgium when I was leaving the UK I went to see an FX4 that was for sale by a bus company in Stoke on Trent. And being a diesel, I would have had it too, had it not been sold before I could liquidate the cash. It would have been a useful tool to have had.

I was then working for the “despatching” for the railway. It was quite early in the morning and we had two trains going out at 05:22, little side-tank steam locomotives taking one or two carriages out, one going via Barrow-in-Furness and the other going direct to the destination. I went down at about 04:00, found the drivers and told the one that his trip had been cancelled and the second that he was to take his train around the other route. I don’t know why I did that but that was what I did. They had something of a moan but I explained that that was what was going to happen. I went back up to my office. Later on I suddenly realised what I’d done. I looked at the time and it was 05:18 and the trains were due to leave at 05:22. I dashed downstairs and outside onto the platform to find that the one had already gone and the other one had reversed off the platform and was heading back to the locomotive depot. I went slowly back upstairs thinking “I’m going to be in some serious trouble about this”. When I walked in to the office the boss said “I want a word with you”. I thought “here we go”. He said “I think that you ought to open your curtains, you know”. I replied “I’ve already opened them once”. He replied “then you need to open them again”. I opened the curtains and found that the ones outside had been closed too. I said to the people sitting at the table by the window to mind their heads. “I could have a nap hand of heads here if you aren’t careful”. I opened the window and opened the curtains.

Even now I can still see the locomotives. Little side-tank 0-4-2 outside cylinder things, both of them. But this is another dream that I don’t understand because, once again, it bears no relevance whatever to anything that I’m doing or have done.

However, when the alarm sounded and I awoke, I still had the affair of these two trains going round and round in my head. I don’t know what I hoped that I was going to do about it at this time of morning but anyway …

The nurse came early today. We had a chat about dialysis and he tells me that there’s no alternative to dialysis and the conversation went something like that between Sam and Frodo near the end of Lord of the Rings

"Have you thought of an ending?"

Yes, several, and all are dark and unpleasant."

After he left I made breakfast and carried on reading MY BOOK

Our hero, apart from giving us all kinds of travel information that would have been useful at the time, as well as a geological lesson on the soils of North America, is continuing to enthral us with his three favourite subjects.

He’s had another uncomfortable encounter with some Americans and so tells us that "civility, as I before faid, is not to be purchafed at any expence in America, neverthelefs the people will pocket your money with the utmoit readinefs, though without thanking you for it. Of all beings on the earth, Americans are the moil interefted and covetous."

That took place at a tavern where "at the American taverns, as I before mentioned, all forts of people, juft as they happen to arrive, are crammed together into the one room, where they muft reconcile themfelves to each other the befl way thsy can."

However, he reserves his most powerful vitriol for the slavery that he sees everywhere. "I am told, that it is no uncommon thing there, to fee gangs of negroes ftaked at a horfe race, and to fee thefe unfortunate beings bandied about from one let of drunken gamblers to another for days together. How much to be deprecated are the laws which fuller fuch abufes to exift ! yet thefe are the laws enacted by people who boaft of their love of liberty and independence, and who prefume to fay, that it is in the breads of Americans alone that the bleffings of freedom are held in jusl estimation…… It is immaterial under what form flavery prefents itfelf, whenever it appears there is ample caufe for humanity to weep at the fight, and to lament that men can be found fo forgetful of their own iituations, as to live regardlefs of the feelings of their fellow creatures."

Back in here I revised my Welsh and then went for the lesson. Once more, it all seemed to pass quite well. Maybe this dialysis is working on clearing my head a little and shifting the fog. I wonder what I have to do to clear whatever it is that’s blocking my memory from working.

After lunch Liz and I had a very long chat on the internet. And it’s been ages since we talked so we had a lot to discuss. It wasn’t quite a Rosemaryesque conversation but it was near enough.

Afterwards I had a few things to do and ended up being so engrossed that I missed my hot chocolate. That’ll teach me.

Tea tonight was a taco roll with the last of the refried beans. I’ll have to find a recipe to make them because they really were nice. It should be quite interesting, as long as they don’t use exclusively some obscure kind of bean that’s not available so easily over here.

My cleaner stuck her head in too. She’d been to LeClerc and had bought me some more cheese for future pizze. And also some coconut oil – four jars of it. She was going to buy just two for me but saw that they only had four in stock so she bought the lot “just in case”.

Now I’ll be cooking in coconut oil for the next heaven-knows how long.

So now, much later than usual, I’m off to bed. Tomorrow is another day. And there will be more of Isaac Weld’s book to read.

But his account of his visit reminds me of another Irishman who visited the USA but in modern times. He too had a run-in with an unfriendly American in the Tavern From Hell.
He mentioned that he was from Ireland and the American replied "Yes I know it. I know it well. My great great grand-daddy comes from there so I’m Irish" to which our Irishman snorted.
"But your Irish country is so sad" continued the American "everything is so small"
"What do you mean?" asked the Irishman
"Take your farms" said the American. "Why, back in Texas, I can get in my car and it takes two days to drive from one side of my land to the other"
"I sympathise with you" said the Irishman. "I know just how you feel"
"You do?" exclaimed the American, incredulously
"Oh yes" replied the Irishman. "I used to have a car like that myself"

Sunday 24th November 2024 – RIGHT NOW I’M IN …

… absolute agony yet again, having been standing on my feet for several hours.

It’s the lack of muscles in my knees that is causing the pain. If I want to stand up without my crutches, such as if I want to use my hands, I have to wedge my legs so that the knee-bones lock in a certain way and after a while it hurts like hell

Still the most important job of the week is done, even if several less-important ones have not so been.

Take the radio notes for example. Last night after I finished writing my notes I had the dictating of the radio notes to do – two lots of them. I was also having a chat on-line with my niece from Canada.

Her middle daughter, my great little niece (or is it “little great niece”?) was married a year ago and now lives in Michigan in the USA and her youngest daughter, another my great little niece (or is it “little great niece”?) is at “St. F-X” – St Francis Xavier University in Antigonish, Nova Scotia, the best University in Canada.

We’re planning a group meeting soon, a video chat on one of the on-line platforms seeing as we haven’t all seen each other for an age.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I was invited to the wedding in Michigan last November so I tried a “dummy run” to Belgium last September to see how I would cope with the journey on my crutches with just a backpack, but failed miserably so I didn’t manage to go to the USA.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment I finished off the dictation, finished off the chat and crawled into bed much later than I would have liked.

When the alarm went off I fell out of bed and wandered off for a quick wash and brush up. It’s Sunday, I’ve had an hour’s lie in and the nurse will be here soon so I need to hurry.

But back in the bedroom I have a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I was during the night. The wind awoke me at 03:00 (not that I knew anything about it) but at that point I’d been off on an expedition with the native Americans. We’d paddled down the coast as far as we could to Florida and then walked back, describing a few of the tribes that we’d met and a few of their characteristics. Several of them were noted as lazy and several others had different epithets. In the end we said that it’s a far better representation of ourselves amongst the native Americans, we want to build a stronger fort to protect our settlement. He goes on to say that although there’s not a lot of land in each settlement they’ve crammed in many men, sometimes more men than the land is worth and they really need more soldiers going to serve as colonists so that they can have some kind of native element to protect the settlements against the French or the French can protect their own settlements against anyone, even the British who were currently their allies at the moment.

This reminds me of the book that I’m reading right now. Our author travels by water all the way down the St Lawrence River and then comes back on land.

But the conflict between the English and the French, with various native American tribes on different sides (or not as the case may be) went on all along the Hudson River valley and out into Ohio, Kentucky and Tennessee for the best part of a hundred years, on and off. It was a fierce, vicious war at times and was well-documented in stories such as Fenimore Cooper’s LAST OF THE MOHICANS

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that WE VISITED MANY OF THE BATTLEFIELD SITES in the Hudson valley in 2013 when we had that slow drive back to Montreal that took several weeks

We made it to Ticonderoga, Fort William Henry and all of the other places that Fenimore Cooper made famous in his “Leatherstocking Tales” of the Seven Years War in North America.

I’m not sure where I was but there was a choice of two cars. We had to choose one of three cars, An Austin Maxi, an Austin Princess HL and a Marina. I remember thinking that that’s the whole total of the British car output of the United Kingdom represented in that lot. We had a really good look round at them but couldn’t see anything or any reason to break any kind of monopoly position with Ford because there were quite a few issues with the British cars, even coming just straight off the production line and we couldn’t really at the time negotiating and repairing all of the bits that they needed to give us a car that we wanted

In the past I’ve had various cars and vans and I have to say that I’ve always returned to having Fords. I’m not sure what I’ll be having next. It’ll have to be whatever is available at the moment that has hand controls fitted.

The nurse turned up and was in chat mode today. She asked for my Carte Vitale – my health card – because she’ll be off on Tuesday and won’t be back until after the start of the next month so she has to make up her accounts.

After she left, I made breakfast and carried on reading my book. And I learned something new today.

Over the years, I have always wondered why the “District of Columbia” where the city of “Washington DC” is situated, is not included in the territory of any of the States. And thanks to Isaac Weld who was there at the time of its creation, now I know.

Congress used to meet in Philadelphia but at the end of the Revolutionary War it was besieged by discontented soldiers whose pay was in arrears. And the Pennsylvania State Government, in sympathy with the soldiers, refused to summon up the State’s forces of law and order quell the riot.

Consequently it was decided that there should be a territory created to house the Congress, where Congress itself could act as the local Government, issue by-laws, control the law enforcement officers and so on, and not be dependent upon any State authority.

In HIS BOOK he talks at great length about why that particular site was chosen. He is certainly very informative, if not garrulous.

Back in here, much later than usual thanks to the late arrival of the nurse, I had football to watch.

For some reason I couldn’t find a video of Stranraer’s game against Spartans. I later found out that the match had been postponed.

As for te Welsh football, there was one game missing – Hwlffordd v Y Bala, and it took an age to find that one.

The radio notes that I’d dictated were quite complicated. So far, I’ve only managed to finish editing one and I’m halfway through the other. I’m a long way from being where I wanted to be, with two radio programmes fully completed.

That’s because after the hot chocolate I set about dealing with the freezer.

It took much longer than you might imagine to unpack the two new drawers. Whoever packed them certainly deserves a medal because they would never be likely to break in that box, with all the padding that was around them.

Then I had to switch off the freezer, unplug it and take out all the drawers. Luckily, I’d put ice packs in there and they, being frozen solid, would help keep the contents cold.

Then I could attack the freezer with the hair dryer that I’d liberated the other week.

That took much longer too. I was surprised at just how much ice there was in there. And what didn’t help was that having put a towel at the front to catch the water that melts, the water actually drains out of the back.

For the time that it took, I was on my feet for several hours and hence the issue with my knees. But it was worth it because the freezer is now totally defrosted, the new drawers are in and filled, and you’d be surprised at how much room there is in there now.

At lunchtime I’d taken out some pizza dough from the freezer and that had been defrosting. When I finished with the freezer I rolled out the dough and later, assembled the pizza.

With no small tomatoes I had to use large ones sliced thinly. Nevertheless it took much longer to bake. However it was delicious all the same. Now I’m going to have a quick tidy-up of the packaging and then go to bed. It’s dialysis tomorrow.

But talking about the Last of the Mohicans … "well, one of us is" – ed … reminds me of Hawkeye and Chingachgook on their way to Fort Ticonderoga
After separating for a few days Hawkeye comes across Chingackgook with his ear to the ground.
"What is it, Chingachgook?" asks Hawkeye
"Stagecoach. French stagecoach" says Chingachgook. "Eight horses, two drivers, twelve passengers, five women, seven men. One driver, he have wart on side of face. Other driver, he have patch over left eye. "
"That’s astonishing" said Hawkeye. "You can tell all that by just lying there with your ear to the ground?"
"Oh no" replied Chingachgook. "Me standing here having little pause, and damn stagecoach ran me down"

Wednesday 23rd October 2024 – PHEW! I’M EXHAUSTED!

That’s hardly any surprise because not only did I have an early start, I have been working all day practically non-stop and have done not only tomorrow’s, but almost all of Friday’s work too. I don’t know where all of this energy has come from.

And last night I was actually in bed before 23:00 which is a very pleasant change. That’s not something that happens every night, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall.

It seems to me that I managed to finish my notes earlier than usual despite all of the distractions that there are, and then I crawled off to the bathroom to sort myself out ready for the night

Once in bed, going to sleep seemed to take much longer than usual though, and that’s something that I’ve noticed over the last few weeks too. I don’t seem to fall asleep as quickly as formerly.

But once asleep, I stayed asleep for almost all of the night, and awoke at about 06:15. I couldn’t remember anything at all of the night so it must have been a really sound sleep for a change, and that probably did me the world of good.

There was no possibility of going back to sleep so after a while of tossing and turning I left the bed and headed to the bathroom where I had a quick wash. Not a full wash as I’m showering later. And when the alarm went off I was busy drying myself.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. To my surprise there was plenty of stuff on there so the night can’t have been as sound as I thought. There had been a girl who had been taken prisoner by a couple of men. She had her mother and a couple of friends etc with her when she was taken prisoner. They were all locked in this house. After a while it became clear that the guy was not interested in her as such but interested in the money that she could bring him. She eventually ended up by barricading herself in the bathroom. Eventually, after a couple of days and all kinds of entreatments and threats etc she reluctantly agreed and eventually opened the door at which point the guys took the information that she had and left, saying that they’d be back. In the meantime all of the girls had been in communication while all of this had been happening. Once all the men had left, the girl having sent them on a wild goose chase she took the money that she had hidden in the house and went to see her friends. Her friends had managed to make some really old car in the garage start. While these men were away looking for something that they’d never find the girls piled into this old car and drove away to make good their escape

There’s nothing in this dream that reminds me of anything. I can’t imagine what’s going on here with this.

That conviction just then … "what conviction?" – ed … rendered me liable to three points taking me up to nine and I was within touching distance of losing my driving licence. When I was out again in my J4 van with things not quite right about it I was beginning to become really worried because I was so easily going to end up on my feet and walking if I wasn’t very very careful and I only had myself to blame. I was driving my J4 van up some street between Oak Street and Chester Bridge that doesn’t exist and I know that coming out of that corner would be extremely complicated especially as I was driving on the left in a right-hand drive vehicle and anything would be likely to happen as I tried to pull out into the traffic just then

So I imagine that this road comes in over my left shoulder, and anyone who has ever driven a right-hand drive van knows just how difficult it is with roads like that. As for the van, I had an old J4 van for a couple of years. Rough as anything and as rotten as a pear, in today’s climate I would lose my licence for ever if it were ever inspected but back in 1974-75 there was nothing wrong with a van like this from a police point of view. As Sir Daniel Gooch once famously said, "whatever would be said of such a mode of proceeding today?"

However it seems that there’s a lump missing from the start of this. I wonder what was happening that I haven’t recorded. But certainly back in those days we were far too cavalier for our own good and we ran a great risk of falling foul of the law in many ways. I had a very hard time adjusting to the new way of thinking that took root in the 80s and 90s

Finally, I’ve just been in a car sales room, a huge place and there must have been about three hundred cars in there. There were probably fifty motor bikes too. One of them was a Velocette Venom 500cc combo. Ohhh! That took me back to 1973 and John Stigter etc. I just sat on this Velocette and wheeled it up and down in this little area in this car sales place. I was as happy as Larry on this. I just wished that I had the strength in my legs to be able to give it a kick-start and take it for a ride

That brought back many happy memories. It was John’s brother Ray who had the Velocette Venom but John had a combination of some description and we’d throw our gear into the box and go off camping for the weekend at the drop of a hat back in the early 1970s when I was living in Chester. Unfortunately that was a way of life that was destined to be eliminated as society became more and more paranoid. I remember going with a schoolfriend to the Lleyn Peninsula and spending the weekend dossing in the open air, walking through the deserted streets of Portmerion (where THE PRISONER was filmed) at 03:00. "Whatever would be said of such a mode of proceeding today?"

It’s a shame but I really miss those carefree halcyon days. Many of my dreams seem to reflect that period of happy adolescence (and the unhappy parts of it too) and when I talk about “young ladies” in my dreams, I actually see myself as still either in or just having left that period. Take the J4 van for example – I was 20 then and still naught but a pup.

Isabelle the nurse came to see me to sort out my legs. I told her that I was going to have a shower later on, even if Emilie the Cute Consultant no longer loves me and she asked "is your engagement definitely broken off then?"

Another thing that I mentioned is that her colleague told me that I had to try to put on my own elasticated socks so I was going to try this afternoon. She thinks that I won’t be able to manage it and even if I were to manage it, I shouldn’t be doing it.

There’s also the question of the ‘flu jab. I’ve had the voucher from the Social Services and my cleaner has taken it to the chemist. Isabelle told me to let her know when I have it and she’ll inject me.

After she left I made breakfast and read my book.

The naturalists are having their annual meal and making all kinds of self-congratulatory speeches to each other. But this is the important bit because they have begun to discuss mushrooms.

The speaker tells us "It was really a great pity that so much good food should be lost. The waste was due to the very great prejudice existing against Funguses" and the President proposes that there should be "a paper on the Edible Funguses of Herefordshire."

The preparation of this document led to a publication that became famous – a legend in fact in the UK, a bible to mushroom hunters everywhere that transformed British cuisine and British diet.

But it’s interesting to see how times have changed from the 1860s. Ladies were not allowed to attend the outings, except on a special Ladies’ Day once per year, however, in connection with this document, the President goes on to say "it would be impossible for them to do this, however, without the assistance of ladies to colour them—that is to say, the club could not afford to pay for their being coloured. The ladies had done much for last year’s volume, and were most kindly again prepared to help with this one, so that the committee did not despair of accomplishing it."

We’ve also had a lecture on tree-pruning and members of the club have produced their weather statistics of the kind that I kept down on the farm in the Auvergne.

Back in here, I started work. And I cracked on today. Not only have I finished to notes for this radio programme, I’ve also chosen the music for the next one and written most of the notes. And that was a Herculean effort too, fighting my way through all of that.

There was the usual interruption for lunch, and then my cleaner turned up with the medication and the injection

Now that she was here doing her stuff, I could proceed with my shower, under her supervision.

The shower was glorious and I enjoyed every minute of it. I’d prepared everything beforehand, clean clothes, refilling the soap pump, all of that kind of thing so it was a simple manner of climbing into the bath,

That was much easier too. I’m really getting the hang of this, although I find it still rather strange to have a crutch in my hand as I stand in the bathtub But it’s better than falling over, I suppose.

What’s most important is that I’m all clean and proper. Once per week is not really good enough but it will have to do until I’m downstairs and can have a walk-in shower fitted

Back in here and fully-dressed, I tried to put on my elasticated socks. And it worked really well too. I can manage that without too much difficulty. So does this mean that I’m slowly working my way round back to my Sunday lie-ins?

Tea tonight was a delicious leftover curry livened up with a chili now that I have some. And it was delicious too, especially the naan bread. And the dessert was really good too.

But now I’m off to bed, early again for a change, and still having a smile about some of the comments of the Woolhope naturalists in 1867.
Before they could eat their meal they said “Grace” which was something that we used to do at home as children.
One day I was invited to a friend’s for tea after school and they just tucked straight into their meal without saying anything.
Back at home later I told my mother about what had happened.
"Didn’t they say a prayer before eating their meal like we do at home?" she asked
"Oh no" I replied. "His mother knows how to cook."

Saturday 28th September 2024 – ONE MORE DAY …

… in the Dialysis Clinic followed by another late night, followed by an early start on a Sunday again for the nurse. It’s relentless, all of this and there is no end in sight. Furthermore, I doubt if there ever will be.

But what happens at Christmas? It would surprise me (but there again, nothing surprises me any more) if the clinic were to be open on Christmas Day. And even if it were, would there be a taxi to take me? There are all these little things about which I need to think.

But not right now, of course. I’m beyond thinking. I’ve had a tough day, I’m deathly tired but I still have a lot to do so it’s going to be a late night.

Much later than last night in fact. And it was after midnight then when I could finally wrench myself out of my chair and into the bathroom. And that was when I noticed the cascade of blood from a wound in my leg. So off we go again. I’m fed up of that as well.

What I did in the end is to take one of the nurses’ sterile pads, fold it up against the wound and put some sticking plaster on it to hold it to the leg. That will have to do.

Once in bed I was asleep yet again quite quickly and only awoke a couple of times, perspiring away yet again. That seems to be becoming a habit as well.

When the alarm went off it took me a couple of minutes to rise to my feet and then to stagger across to the bathroom. No bread to make today.

However there was plenty of washing. My shorts, my socks, trousers and undies, and that’s before I could even think about washing myself. This sartorial elegance these days is proving to be too much for my routine. I might even end up being clean myself at this rate.

Back in here I attacked the dictaphone notes. Mountains of them too. I wanted to perform some experiments. That involved being outside so I set up a small kind of cubicle or tent inside the barn that I could use to change etc into some strange kind of clothes with a large woolly black mop as a hairpiece. I thought that if I were to set myself up there and then were to go outside I’d be fine. However it took so look to organise myself that everyone began to leave the house. The lorry driver who was leaving – he left at the same time every day – seemed to be leaving quite quickly and I was nowhere near ready to go to step outside so I knew that I was going to have problems doing what I had to do. One of my neighbours came down with his wife and he had to climb over my legs in order to find their way through the barn and go to the outdoors. He asked if I was living in here now. I relied “not exactly” and tried to explain the circumstances about where I was living but I was more interested in them clearing off so that I could continue making myself ready to go outside for just about what was left of the afternoon, most of which had disappeared with everyone either being late or hanging on. That I suppose included the Welsh class – I dunno – I can’t remember the Welsh class being there but I suppose that it must have been if I’m talking about it, I dunno but I still managed to get rid of everyone and carry on preparing myself in my little room or tent in the barn so that I could then step outside and do what’s needed.

And isn’t that the problem? I never see people for weeks then everyone turns up at once or they call me on the phone, and it’s always at just the wrong moment. I’m convinced that some people have installed a camera here at this apartment.

Did I dictate the dream about the old British couple and their mobile home thing towing a trailer? … "no you didn’t" – ed … They were somewhere in France heading back to the UK. I came across them on a car park and went over for a chat. While we were chatting, another vehicle pulled in on the car park and hit the trailer. I looked in the mirror and saw this car, which drove off across the car park to the far side. I ran after it and as I reached it a big woman, probably in her late 30s, a horsey type of person, alighted. She was in a car and trailer too. I asked her “why is it that you’ve driven all the way over here after hitting the trailer and making me run after you?” She went “ohh, I have my English insertion exam”. I said “you’d better come and sort out this trailer first that you’ve just hit”. She made a few disagreeable remarks, saying “that old guy is already in trouble for sexually assaulting me”. I couldn’t help thinking that no-one in their right minds would ever want to have any sexual contact with this woman at all. We stormed over to the old guy with his trailer with this woman still complaining that it was everyone else’s fault but hers, and how she had this important exam etc.

There are dozens of people like that whom we all know. “The rules are meant for the little people”. I know that I’m not exactly the best person to appeal to if you want someone to stick to the rules, but whatever comes out of it is no-one’s fault but my own. And if I can’t bewilder the opposition with brains, I will baffle them with b*llsh*t.

I was at a friend’s house and his mother came in and began to tell him off about something or other. After a couple of minutes she turned round to me and began to blame me, calling me all kinds of things as if it was all my fault, whatever it was that I had done. I’d contributed a little but it certainly wasn’t my responsibility. He had to nip out for ten minutes leaving me on my own with her. She continued to lecture with me while I was preparing to leave. I went downstairs into the kitchen. She was slitting eels open ready to jelly them. Of course I felt sick immediately but she carried on and carried on moaning at me. Then my friend came back so I said that I’d better go to say goodbye but I want to go to my garage next door and take away my tools because whatever is left in there you can have it. I have to liquidate some of my affairs and generally make a bit of space in my life. I’m never going to get round to doing these. I went next door to the garage. all the alarms were whistling because all the lights had been left on and the batteries were all low. I turned everything off but I couldn’t turn off the lights in the main room for some reason. Then I began to go through my tools and collecting the ones that I needed. I suddenly realised that there was far too much stuff here for me to take away. There’s nowhere for me to keep it back in my flat so I’ve no idea now what I’m going to do about anything. I am just so confused. That’s another dream about having garages and Ford Cortinas scattered halfway around the World isn’t it? I’ve had plenty of these in the past.

And I tell you what – I’m impressed that I can remember my previous dreams while I’m dreaming. That’s some achievement. But it’s true that in our dreams in the past we’ve had Ford Cortinas and workshops dotted about all over the place. Just like the old days, in fact. But I did once have a friend whose mother was from an island in the Mediterranean, and she was rather … well, I was going to say “emotional” but ” volatile” is a much better word.

The nurse put her sooty foot in the door and sorted me out with bandages and so on. She taught me a new phrase as well. I told her that the only way I would leave this building would be horizontally, but she explained that she would say les pieds à l’avant – “feet first”. She told me that when she worked in a hospital she was always taught that it’s the heads to the wall in bed, and if you are pushing a trolley or a bed with a patient on it, it’s always head first if they are alive, and feet first if they are dead. hence the expression.

After she left I made breakfast and then settled down to read my book. Our hero, lamenting the dispersal of excavated treasures into private hands and subsequently disappearing, has now left Rutupiae and set out down the coast past Deal and has arrived at the Roman lighthouse at Dover

Of course, it goes without saying that I agree with him. What treasures have been lost by being found before there was a system of registration and recording? And walls demolished for the rubble at Rutupiae and Verulamium and elsewhere?

Back in here I didn’t do much – just watched the highlights of the week’s football and watched TNS turned over by Y Bala with a couple of mystery time goals

My cleaner came along and fitted my patches. She also brought me a fairly new baking tray and oven pan that were on their way to the dechetterie

The taxi came early today so I wasn’t ready. She had a fare at Avranches to pick up at 13:30 so she wanted to get ahead if she could. It doesn’t bother me. After all, it’s free so it’s not an issue.

We picked up someone else going to the clinic and we had a good chat all the way down there. We were quite early so we had to wait, but that’s no big deal.

Once in the ward I weighed myself, and some of the weight that I’d lost last time has stayed off. Not all of it, but to say goodbye to some is encouraging.

Next step was to clamber into bed where eventually after a little wait they coupled me up. Nothing like as much pain as the other day when I literally hit the roof.

While I was being done I amused myself by finishing off the tagging of the videos and then read my book on Curious Church Customs. That is, when I wasn’t asleep. I did have a doze for half an hour or so but that’s the first time for several days. Isn’t that a change?

The driver who brought me back was quite chatty and had a lot to say for himself, and then my cleaner watched me up the stairs. On one stair I could lift my foot by just the leg muscles without using my hands. Just one, but that’s an improvement. The first time for several months.

Football was next. And it was also a pleasure watching Caernarfon turn over Connah’s Quay 3-1, and well-worth it too. But they had to cope not only with the opposition but with being on the receiving end of some of the most bizarre refereeing decisions that I’ve seen for a while.

And if you think that it’s just me, there were several comments made from the commentators’ box too. The referee was clearly refereeing a different game to the one that we were watching.

Tea tonight was a burger on a bap. When I looked in the freezer the other day I saw that I had enough burgers to last a lifetime – well, mine anyway. So I’d better start to eat them and make some space

So late again thanks to the football, I’ll dictate the radio notes and then go to bed ready to Fight the Good Fight tomorrow.

But thinking about cleaning myself up reminds me of A FILM in which another one of my heroes, Frankie Howerd, plays the rôle of a priest accompanying a leper in the Middle Ages.
There he is, ringing his bell and shouting "unclean! Unclean!"
And then he breaks the fourth wall, turns to the audience and says "well, let’s face it! It has been up to now, hasn’t it?"

Saturday 14th September 2024 – SO THAT’S DAY …

… two of the rest of my life in the dialysis ward sorted out.

And to my surprise, apparently I’m something of a celebrity. The doctor in charge of the dialysis department listens to my rock programmes on the radio and has told the rest of the clinic who I am.

We’re not at the stage where people are asking for my autograph or where I’m being besieged by groupies (more the pity) but still ….

That’s the advantage of living in a small place – it’s much more fun being a big fish in a small pond than it is being a small fish in a big pond (or maybe talking about fish, I should have said “place”). I’m not cut out to be a city-dweller

Another thing that I’m not cut out for is going to bed early. It was another horribly late night last night, but that’s because the Highlights (if you can call it that) of Y Bala v Aberystwyth.

Over the last few seasons Aberystwyth have been getting worse and worse. They narrowly escaped relegation two years ago, and it was only an administration issue affecting Pontypridd United that saved them last season.

This season, slugging it out with Y Fflint for the other relegation place alongside LLansawel, they are doing badly and were swept aside by Y Bala last night. In fact the highlights had them in the Bala half just once

It’s a good job that it wasn’t the live match this weekend because it would have been painful to watch, I reckon.

So I was soon in bed after the final whistle and once more I didn’t need much rocking before I disappeared into the ether.

Just one or two brief awakenings but I went back to sleep almost straight away and there I stayed (for a change) until the alarm went off.

In the bathroom I had a good wash, a shave and a change of clothes. After all, at the Dialysis Ward I might even meet Emile The Cute Consultant so must look my best.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. We were working for a Sports Radio. There was an apartment available to let and we’d been asked to show some people round it. It was only a single-roomed apartment, bedsit-type of place that doesn’t take much showing around. The guy who came to look at it was extremely interested even though it was untidy and dirty. He asked a few questions about the gas fire, whether it was connected to the mains and whether it was a good connection. While I was poking around in there having a look I came across firstly another key which had presumably been left down underneath the fire and some money too, some Euros and some £5 notes totalling (thinks) €30:00 and £10:00. There was something about this €30:00 but I can’t remember what it is. There was certainly rather more to this dream but I can’t recall it. The guy was extremely interested in this place. Finding the key and the money was the icing on the cake as far as he was concerned but the place was dirty and needed a really good clean-up after the previous tenant had left. It looked like the person smoked and there was cigarette ash everywhere.

And in a minute I’ll tell you a funny story about a Sports Radio. But finding stuff hidden under the gas fire is one thing, but it’s not where I would have hidden it. In the book of THE MALTESE FALCON Sam Spade hid the falcon in the ice compartment of his refrigerator

A friend of mine from Chester was talking about the collieries at Llay. It turned out that that was where a friend from school had gone to work. He said that it was his first real job and his last one too because the colliery had closed down. It was just over the Christmas period and never reopened. The people knew that it was closing but the fact that they didn’t reopen it after Christmas showed that they had changed the plans without communicating this to the workforce. The workforce was of course all laid off, part of the industrial desolation in North Wales. The site was left to rot for several years but eventually it was cleared away in some kind of demolition control. The Wrexham Maelor Council was left to look after what was left of the property. The site was now some kind of industrial estate. My schoolfriend said “why don’t we go to have a look at it?”. I thought that this was something that we should have done a long time ago, many years ago, but I suppose that now as as good a time as any. It would have been nice to have been there fifteen years ago when it was working but you can’t have everything

Llay has been in the news over the summer. The local football club won promotion to Wales’s second tier in dramatic circumstances. The name of the club, Llay Miners Welfare FC, recalls the days when there were collieries in the area. And if the family Bible is anything to go by, my grandmother’s people came from Penrhiwceiber in South Wales and likely came north when there was a wave of pit openings in the early years of the 20th Century.

But there’s another question. I rescued her Bible from a skip where it had been thrown after her bungalow was cleared out. Who’s going to rescue it when my apartment is cleared out after I’ve gone? Apart from the fact that it has her family tree in it, it’s actually one of the rare Bibles that was written in Welsh

I dreamed that some woman had come into my bedroom and began to lick and hug my door. She said that she was my teacher but I didn’t recognise her from school at all

And what on earth is that all about? Women coming into my room and licking and hugging my door? Obviously I’m not famous enough yet despite what goes on in the clinic and I’ll have to work hard at that.

There was also a dream about two German women coming out of a cafe. One of them was saying to the other about her daughter can stay with her for a couple of days and then return home, then her son could go to stay with her too. This woman was something to do with the German military. The subject came up about a motorbike somewhere in a town along the Rhine. The woman wondered if it would be suitable for her son so she went to ask some kind of German officer if she would borrow some kind of transport to go down to pick it up but the German officer was not impressed at all and told her that he’d already said in the past that she’s not allowed to borrow any transport for this kind of purpose

That’s not very relevant to anything at all that I can think of. I’m clearly losing my grip.

When the nurse came, she sorted out my puttees (which fell down again later), issued an order for supplies and tried her best to give me some encouragement for this afternoon. I asked her what time I should apply the anaesthetic patches and she told me to ring the hospital

And it’s a good job that I did because they didn’t have me down to come and they hadn’t therefore booked the taxi to bring me

And then I could finally make breakfast and read my book. And do you know? I can’t remember what it was that I read today

After breakfast I watched that new Sports programme showing the highlights of Newport City’s game last night. And the reporter "and (the ‘keeper) hangs onto the ball like my missus hangs on to an Easter egg" .

That’s my style of commentating so I sent the commentator a mail of encouragement and we struck up quite a conversation

There was some photocopying to be done so I attended to that, interrupted by my loyal cleaner. She’d brought up the post and was going to apply the anaesthetic patches.

The post had some good news, for me and for her. That Society that deals with personal autonomy who came to see me the other week considers that I need at least 13 hours of assistance per month (instead of the current 8) and will give me a grant for the extra hours.

One of the tasks for which I need assistance apparently is “moral support” – although what moral support I can have in 13 hours is a matter of debate.

The taxi came and whisked me off to Avranches. The driver was a rocker and so we had rock music all the way which made a nice change.

And who should be on duty today at the Dialysis Centre but Emilie The Cute Consultant. It really was my lucky day.

Today I was in the public ward where it was rather warmer but I was still stretched out on a bed and thus unable to work

Instead I carried on reading Colonel Carrington’s reports about life on his frontier post “across the lines” in Indian Territory. And we reached a crucial point in the narrative today.

He’s been accused by his own junior officers of timidity in confronting the Native Americans but it’s clear in that sending troops to the forest to bring trees back to build the stockade, to cut planks to make the buildings etc, he doesn’t have the time or the resources to go on the offensive.

However, one of his subordinates takes a couple of troops, totalling 80 or so men, on an independent command and disobeying all his clear orders, goes in an impetuous chase of a party of natives.

It goes without saying that this group of natives is just an advance guard for an ambush, and of all the palefaces, there’s not even one survivor.

When we were there IN 2019 and walked across the battlefield, you could see just how ideal it was for an ambush

Carrington noticed it too when he went to retrieve the bodies, and in his notes he describes – in lurid, gruesome detail – the mutilations that they had suffered, many of which had been committed while the victims were likely still alive.

When they were disconnecting me and unplugging me, they talked about my “unwillingness” to become involved in the more gruesome parts of this dialysis procedure.

They talked about sending the psychiatrist to see me and asked if I would like that. Well, apart from the fact that I think that anyone who wants to see a psychiatrist needs his head examined, I am actually quite comfortable with my problems. And if anyone can help me overcome them it won’t be a trick cyclist. I shall have to do it myself.

It was a silent drive back here with a very taciturn chauffeur, and then my cleaner watched as I fought my way upstairs alone

And Rosemary had sent me a message. She tells me that this morning she saw the snow on the Puy de Sancy. Winter’s on the way already.

Having mentioned Aberystwyth’s disaster last night, it’s even worse because Y Fflint surprisingly beat Hwlffordd this afternoon to pull away up the table.

Tea was, for a change, a burger on a bun. It’s been a while since I’d had one of those, made with the stuff that my friend in Munich had sent me ages ago. I’d made it up and then frozen the burgers to use bit by bit.

And my roly poly was delicious too.

So now I’m off to bed – when I’ve dictated the radio notes that I’ve written during the week. High time I went back to work

But on this psychiatry thing, the last time I was there they gave me the Rorschach test
The psychiatrist showed me a photo of an ink-stain and asked "what’s this?"
"Rorschach test image number six" I replied
"Ohh come on" he urged. "Be serious"
"OK" I said. "It’s a loaf of bread"
"And this?"
"A dragonfly"
"And this?"
"An octopus"
"And this?"
"Eeeuurrgg" I shuddered. "That’s an evil parasite that sucks out the lifeblood of human beings and gorges itself on their energy and shrinks the willpower …"
The psychiatrist looked at the card. "I’m very sorry" he said. "But that’s a photo of my wife"
"But was I close?"
"You were close"

Tuesday 27th August 2024 – I HAVE MADE …

… myself a ginger cake this afternoon.

As yet, I haven’t sampled it, but I’m quite looking forward to doing that tomorrow. I’ve no idea what it’ll turn out like because it’s a recipe that I’ve pretty much invented, so we shall see what we shall see. It promises to be interesting, to say the least.

Like last night, which was also quite interesting, not the least because the nurse had fastened my puttees quite tightly, and as my foot expanded it felt as if the little toe on my left foot was being amputated with no anaesthetic. It’s a long time since I’ve felt pain like that

And so I had to undo my puttees quite a while before going to bed, which is not what I want to do as all of the water in my body will them settle down into my legs and feet and make them swell even more. Ahh well …

Going to bed was interesting last night because I can’t remember anything at all about it. I must have been asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. And there I stayed until the alarm went off. I had awoken a couple of times but I can’t remember when and why.

When the alarm went off I switched it off and headed to the bathroom to sort myself out for the morning, and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was doing a radio programme on mutations last night, why they exist and what’s their meaning, which words mutate and why. We were broadcasting it over a period of several days on several different platforms. There were several people who didn’t really receive the message at all, that Welsh is a completely different language from most that they’ve already encountered before. The German language mutates a little and there are a few mutations in the English language but the Welsh language is full of them and has specific rules. These need to be understood by the speakers whether you are native or a graduate Welsh speaker so this was the point of telling them about our discussion. But I’d noticed that these lamp posts have to be secreted well below the road surface but the two that they were about to install at this road junction didn’t look anything at all heavy enough to me … fell asleep here …

This was interesting. German, and to a lesser extent English, employ mutations quite a lot but it’s mainly the vowel that mutates – gIve = gAve, hOld = hEld etc and it’s a very rare consonant that mutates – leaF = leaVes etc. But in Welsh it’s the consonant that mutates most commonly, and when I say “common” I mean “common”. I’m at the stage now though where I can’t remember the rules of mutation and am just learning phrases parrot-fashion as a small child would. As for where the second part of this dream came from I really have no idea. Perhaps it’s just as well that I fell asleep in mid-dictate.

Back in the 1930s was one of these sweat-shop offices in New York where you had to walk around about 50 flights of stairs down 10 basements to find where people were working in all kinds of overcrowded and unhealthy conditions. Someone finally went down there – he was moving to Chicago and wanted to take members of staff from New York with him. He identified people on the basis of “you, you and you” – that’s how he recruited his “willing” volunteers, by pointing to them and ordering them to accompany him. One or two of them were upset but there was no other alternative. While the rest of his staff were discussing this, a news report came in that the Police had stopped someone riding a motor bike in their area of the city. They had found out that this person was unlicensed so they told him that his bike would be confiscated. As the police officer was pushing it into someone’s driveway to await collection a shot rang out and she fell dead. There was a huge enquiry launched, which upset just about everyone and the local papers crusaded on behalf of the residents who, they said, had lost many of their civil rights as a result of the police coming into the Borough in numbers to try to track down the murderer and the tactics that they used to deprive them of their civil rights too.

That was how things were run in American offices back in the 1930s and while evolution in the UK office culture, thanks to the Trades Unions, has made the office a much more friendly place to work, that’s not the case in the USA. Not by any means. I worked for an American company for a while, in their Brussels office. There was a knotty problem that needed fixing and I was on the ‘phone to New York one Friday afternoon trying to sort it out. At 18:00 our time (12:00 their time) I said that I was going home and we’d catch up to finish it off on the Monday. Monday at 15:00 (09:00 in New York) I waited for his ‘phone call, which never came. Just before going home I rang up the New York office to speak to him. "Ohh – Mr (so-and-so)?" came a voice. "I’m afraid that his position was made redundant on Friday." So he was finished there with (less than) six hours notice. Not exactly shot on his doorstep but not far off.

The nurse was late this morning and that had me running around rather late today. But she and I had a row. She was on the point of refusing to put a plaster on my operation but I stood my ground and insisted.

She thinks that I’m being a big baby over this and she’s probably right too, but I can do without a panic attack right now. There will be time enough for that in a few weeks time. But thanks to my faithful cleaner I have brand-new puttees on today and the previous lot are soaking in a bowl.

After she left I had breakfast, nice and at my leisure reading my book on the Icknield Way. And then I had plenty of things to do.

Firstly, to find the batteries that I took out of the dictaphone one night a few days ago and which fell on the floor and were lost to view. They’ve been tracked down and are now charging up.

Second thing is to have a much closer look at the Genz Benz combo amp. My initial inspection is regrettably correct – the two-way voltage switch is missing and the data plate shows that the “115 Volt 60 Herz” option is the only one selected.

That means that I need a transformer to run it from a 230 Volt 50 Herz” European electricity circuit, which wa what I suspected in the first place. But there are transformers readily available

Another thing is to make a slow start on the outstanding correspondence, of which there’s more than enough over the past few weeks. I owe several people a response and I haven’t forgotten you

After lunch I did some work on the radio and finished off the first of my special projects. You may be wondering why someone born in 1892 deserves a special rock music programme dedicated to him and him alone but if there is ever one man who has contributed more to rock music than any other one person I’d like to meet him

“Finished” I say, but I’ll be reading it through a few times before I dictate it. It’ll doubtless have a few amendments before it’s ready, but in a few months time I shall be inviting my merry little band of listeners to come for a walk with me in a most surprising place.

After the mid-afternoon hot chocolate there was baking to do. Firstly, a loaf of bread as I have now run out yet again, and secondly, while the dough was busy rising, I made my cake.

The chocolate powder was omitted this time of course, and its volume was replaced by extra flour, and then melted a tablespoon of coconut oil, which replaced an equivalent amount of oil. Then some ground ginger, ground mixed spice, and thanks to my loyal cleaner, some fresh ginger, finely diced

It probably will be the most ridiculous cake ever but at least it looks as if it might be a cake – of sorts. It actually rose in the oven too so that’s definitely progress of a sort

Tea was taco roll with rice and veg and for the benefit of those readers who say that I need stuffing, there was plenty to hand. So much so that it will be a good leftover curry tomorrow night, especially if I remember to make some naan bread.

But tomorrow I’m off to the hospital at Avranches – an 08:15 pick-up. I’m not sure that I’m looking forward to that but I shall do my best.

But while we’re on the subject of baking … "well, one of us is" – ed … the fact that I’m willing to have a go at baking is keeping me away from these agencies like the one that Sid James and Hattie Jacques were running in CARRY ON LOVING

Terry Scott who had “good cook” among his requirements went storming back to the office after a meeting set up by Sid James
"I don’t know why you’re upset" said Sid James. "I told you that she was a good cook"
"Yes, and she had something in the oven" said Terry Scott. "For nine months on Gas Mark Eight"

Saturday 10th August 2024 – IT’S NOT BEEN …

… all that much better today than it was yesterday. There has been a slight improvement to be sure but almost anything would be an improvement over what surely must have been one of the worst days of my life.

It was another late night last night. and I’m not talking about midnight or anything respectably late but I’m talking about times like 02:00, that sort of thing.

Something awoke me at 05:45 and I’ve no idea what it was. At te time I was in the middle of some kind of panic attack thing about how I must catch a bus to somewhere, a long-distance coach. I have to be somewhere else by 08:00 to board this bus and I’ve no idea what time it is and when the alarm goes off will I have time to go – another one of these panic attacks. But whatever awoke me sounded so real that I actually left the bed to answer my phone, which hadn’t rung or even received a message, so I’ve absolutely no idea why I would have done that.

Having made sure that there was nothing going on that might have been of an importance I went back to bed.

These days I’ve had a few of these panic attacks while I’m asleep.. I wonder if some part of my body is telling me something and that I need to take heed. But I really can’t think where I have to be that involves any kind of travel that I would undertake in a long-distance bus. The only place where I would ever be likely to want to take one would be between Montréal and Florenceville in New Brunswick, but not even that bus runs any more.

Once I was back in bed there I stayed until the alarm went off.

When Billy Cotton ROARED HIS RAUCOUS RATTLE I staggered off into the bathroom to have a good scrub, wash my night-time shorts and change my clothes. I have to look my best for Isabelle’s last day before she goes off on a well-deserved break.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was in a scrapyard somewhere and we had an old Class 20 or similar shunter. For some reason we had to go to a quarry. At the quarry was another one of the same type of machine. There was some issue involving the driver of that particular machine so as we were there one of our people drove it. There was a huge argument and he ended up escaping in this machine, not before he’s destroyed half of their infrastructure, driven over the top of a crane cutting the bodywork etc. The bailiffs or someone turned up at our place and wanted to take away our machine thinking that it was theirs but when they compared the registration numbers of our train with the registration numbers of the locomotive from the quarry they found out that it wasn’t the same so they couldn’t take it, so they left Then the guy turned up with this machine from a quarry so we ended up with two identical machines due to people losing their temper

Actually, I know someone who has a Class 20 diesel locomotive. He might even have more. He’s the neighbour of a former friend of mine and runs a company in Staffordshire hiring out locomotives to various railway companies and has a useful side-line ingoing round various locomotive breakers yards rescuing the more valuable spare parts. He started off with just one locomotive that he had bought to preserve but made a fortune hiring it out to the builders of the Channel Tunnel and, like Topsy, his business “just growed”.

Isabelle was in “chat” mode again today and she spent some time here. Having covered for her boss’s absence on holiday she’s now going off for ten days. He starts back tomorrow and their cycle of “one week on, one week off” begins again.

While I was having breakfast I was reading about the Maginnis Gulch Stampede, or Montana’s Phantom Gold Rush, an incident that was played to perfection in CARRY ON COWBOY

But for those of you who have expressed an interest, the book is called FOLLOWING OLD TRAILS, written by a newspaperman called Arthur L Stone.

Later on in the morning there were the highlights of last night’s game between Queen’s Park and Livingston, and then I joined that guy I mentioned the other day, Blair McNally, for a trip to the East end of Glasgow for Vale of Clyde v Port Glasgow Athletic, a proper amateur football match in about the eighth level of the Scottish Pyramid.

This afternoon I’ve been tracking down concert dates. And much to my surprise, because of all the ones that I’ve done this is the first, I came across one that took place on a date on which I will have a radio broadcast within the current cycle of programmes that I’m preparing.

So on 21st March next year we’ll be having a live concert from the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago in 1974. This afternoon I’ve mixed the music for the concert and I’ve written half of the notes. I could have written more but unfortunately I was away with the fairies for a while at some point.

While I was at it, I came across a few other interesting bits and pieces, and finally turned my hand to downloading a concert that had been sent to me by one of the musicians who took part, featuring the almost-last concert on which my hero Deke Leonard played.

It’s a real pity though because of how the dates fall, this one won’t be broadcast for several years yet.

Tea tonight was one of my favourite quorn steaks in breadcrumbs, with baked potato and vegan salad. And it was delicious as always. Something that I eat every week but why not if I enjoy it.

So now I’m going to dictate the next batch of radio notes and then I’m going to try to go to bed at something like a reasonable time.

But talking of “Carry On Cowboy” reminds me of the two bandits (one of whom was Sid James) talking to the Indian chief Big Heap (Charles Hawtrey)

Big Heap – "And this is my son, Little Heap"
One Bandit – "How"
Other bandit (Sid James) – "How"
Big Heap – "And this is my squaw. I bought her for two buffalo skins"
One Bandit – "How"
Other bandit (Sid James) – "Never mind how. Where?"

Friday 9th August 2024 – I’M HAVING A …

… really bad day today

Or, in fact, I was having a really bad day yesterday because it’s now tomorrow as I’m typing all of this

It’s been one of those days where I’ve accomplished next-to-nothing, done nothing at all and whatever I have done just hasn’t gone according to plan.

It all went wrong on Thursday afternoon. As I mentioned, I fell asleep in the afternoon and was totally out of it for a couple of hours.

And so we had the inevitable result, which I now recognise after having had several months to work it out. Too physically exhausted to haul myself out of my comfortable chair but not tired enough to go to sleep.

And so here I sat for several hours trying to find the energy from somewhere to haul myself across the couple of feet between my chair and the bed. And it was long after 01:30 before I finally pulled myself together and pulled myself up by the bootstraps

That of course is all very well, but waking up at 05:30 was definitely not part of any plan, and neither was staying awake either but there I was, wide-awake but too physically exhausted to rise up from my stinking pit.

When the alarm went off at 07:00 I made it reluctantly into the bathroom to have a wash and so on, and then came back in here.

To my surprise, and probably yours, there was some stuff on the dictaphone from the night. I was with that old van from a couple of nights ago. I Had it back at our old house in Vine Tree Avenue. I took my tool box out ready to take away with me because my other car was parked in Edleston Road and needed picking up. The first thing that I needed to do was to check the keys. I had them but I didn’t actually have the keys for this old van. I thought that I must have left them in my coat on the inside. I went inside the van to fetch the coat and took out the keys from it and went to cross the two coats together as my battlefield cross but the big female lion objected and batted everything with her paw

As it happens, the van in my dreams I can see even now. It’s a light grey Austin A35 van and I certainly never ever had one of those when I was young. Probably the only vehicle that I didn’t own back in those days. I did have one of its big brothers, BILL BADGER, the Austin A60 or half-ton van that I mentioned yesterday. I paid £60:00 for that van, had it for several years, and had my money back several times thanks to the work that it did and the miles that we travelled, tucked in between the lorries on the motorway. No way was I going faster than about 50-55 mph with BMC’s single leading shoe drum brakes all round. Not even a hint of a disc brake.

When I was awoken by the alarm I was reliving an episode of DIRTY HARRY. Clint Eastwood had been detained in a roadside stop and made to sit on the pavement. While he was sitting there a policeman recognised him, came over and gave him a great big kick. Of course that inevitable started a riot and that was the point that I’d reached when the alarm went off. .

And so I must have gone back to sleep at some point. But it’s been a long time since there’s been a really good free-for-all down the High Street. We had a few in Chester in 1973-74 but that was about it.

The nurse was quite chatty today and had a lot to say for herself but I can’t remember much of it. She still thinks that I’m a wimp because I won’t take off this plaster on my arm but that’s how it is I’m afraid. As I’ve said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I’ll have the panic attack to end all panic attacks when it comes to coupling me up.

After she left I had breakfast and read my book for a while, reading about the lynchings in the town of Hell’s Gate, Montana, how nine people out of the 12 who lived there "died without going through the intermediate stage of being ill" as the author so eloquently put it.

Back in here it took me an age to come round to my senses, which is a surprise seeing how few senses I have these days. What shocked me out of my lethargic torpor was a message from my cleaner "mushrooms? I’m coming homs."

Blimey! It’s 12:30 already, I’ve done nothing and I’ll miss my slot for my LeClerc order. And now my cleaner is on her way home, if they don’t have what I want on delivery, it’s too late to buy it anywhere else now.

When my cleaner came round I was preparing my order from LeClerc so she added a few housekeeping items onto it and I sent it off.

The fridge had defrosted itself during the night so there was water all over the kitchen floor and donning waders and a lifejacket, my cleaner valiantly attacked the pool of water. And there I was thinking what a good job it was that we put down that lino on top of the wooden floor in the kitchen area.

This afternoon I’ve been hunting down another pile of concerts, comparing setlists and the like. And also tracking down missing tracks that were omitted from the published versions of live concerts.

The sad fact is that with almost every concert that I’ve encountered, the published version is often far shorter than the actual versions. What’s missing is sometimes much more interesting than what was included. For that reason you’ve probably never ever heard Joni Mitchell tell her audience that they were "behaving like a bunch of tourists" or Dennis Yeahy scream "brilliant!" in the middle of a Santana concert.

The shopping eventually turned up and I put most of it away, and then I came in here where I sat down and ran out of steam.

And here I’ve sat ever since then. I’ve had no food today since breakfast except a few crackers with my coffee and right now I’m beyond caring. And if I’m off my food you know that I’m not well.

But I’ll sort myself out and maybe find the energy from somewhere to go to bed. I dunno It’s been a strange day, a really long one, but although I’ve not crashed out at all, I’ve been too tired to do anything.

But if I can’t sleep tonight I’ll try counting sheep like that shepherd in Cumbria – "… five, six, seven, hello darling, nine …"
"Did you say ‘hello darling’ to sheep number eight?" asked a passing tourist
"Yes he did" replied the sheep. "He’s my fa-a-a-a-a ther"

Wednesday 7th August 2024 – HAVING TALKED LAST …

… night about Liz, it was quite apposite that Liz should be sending me messages this morning, as I found after finishing my toilet

And so we had a nice little chat, which is always very pleasant. I do like talking to my friends.

And that reminds me – one or two people just recently have asked me for my Whatsapp details so they too can have a nice little chat with me.

So if you don’t have my details, send me a message, using the “contact Me” link at the bottom of the page to the right, to ask me for them. I need to enlarge the circle of my friends, as Jeremy Thorpe once said to Norman Scott.

But not at 23:00 or thereabouts, unless it’s an emergency. I’m trying desperately to be in bed by 23:00 and failing miserably. And not for the want of trying. And believe me, I am very trying, as many people will testify.

Last night was a dismal failure, as you might expect. By the time that I’d sorted out my puttees and washed my trousers it was much nearer midnight than 23:00 when I finally hit the hay.

And once again, I didn’t have much sleep. Although awakening at 06:15 is a much better proposition than 02:15 or whenever it was last night.

When the alarm went off I staggered into the bathroom for a good wash and some clean clothes, and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night and, more importantly, who had come with me. I was with a friend on our way to Chester. Somehow we lost our way in all the houses round by Upton on the big estate there. We were making our way slowly towards the town but didn’t seem to be making any progress. I kept on thinking about where I might be. This was confirmed a minute or two later by seeing a sign so I knew that we were in the right direction but actually making much progress was rather dubious. It was quite late at night and we had things to do. As we rounded a roundabout – by now we were on foot – we fell in with an old lady. She was wondering what we were doing out at this ridiculous time of morning so she began to interrogate us. There was me, my friend, Zero’s parents and a fifth person whom I can’t remember but it certainly wasn’t Zero. And how could it not be Zero if her parents were there? That’s the worst part of dreams like this. The old lady asked if we were all locals so we said “no”. She asked where we were from so I explained. She asked what we were doing. We let this carry on for ages with her chiselling out tiny little facts each time. We were spinning this out for ever. In the end we turned up at a house that was being renovated. It was actually one of ours although it wasn’t why we were here. We came to this house and began to settle down in it ready to do some work. That confused her, but it also confused us. We’d been talking about the taxis and how we’d been getting on. Did I look after the cars? Why did I choose the cars that I did? etc. I had the feeling that for the whole night I was being interrogated about a whole section of my life. Again I was just giving the bare minimum possible answer to the question and letting whoever it was – it might have been my friend or it might have been Zero’s father – chisel the information out stone by stone. What we were going to do in Chester I really can’t remember now but it involved parking up in that little street at the back of Frodsham Street between Frodsham Street and the city walls. Why that would be the case I don’t know.

But I’m impressed that I can remember the obscure geography of Chester. It’s 50 years since I lived there and although it was one of the happier moments of my life I never ever went back to live there. It was a beautiful city with a lot going on and some really nice people

Later on I was talking to another friend on the phone about a Scottish football game. I was sounding all enthusiastic about going. It was some kind of important game taking place I think at the Hamilton Stadium. In the end Terry asked me “is there plenty of parking there?” because he might come and bring the kids. I was just on the point of explaining that there was a lot of parking in Hamilton Town Centre when the alarm went off and awoke me so Terry now will never know.

Strangely, during the evening yesterday I was watching last season’s Scottish Amateur Cup Final played between St Patrick’s and Castlemilk, which took place at Hamilton’s football ground.

Liz and I were chatting on line while all of this was going on. A couple of us have a little project on the go and we’re trying to find a convenient time for all of us to be available to have a group chat. But if we all keep on collecting appointments like we seem to be doing, it’s probably going to take place at 03:00 one morning some day whenever.

The nurse came round this morning as usual, and seemed to have more time to spare today, so she was in “chat” mode. She’s doing her best to raise my spirits at the moment because she can tell that I’m flagging.

Not that it’s anything to worry about. It’s just that this relentless cycle of visits from the nurse, and trips to the hospital and all this huge pile of medication – the combined total of everything is depressing me

And as Sam and Bilbo said to each other in Lord of the Rings
"Have you thought of an ending?"
"Yes, several, and all are dark and unpleasant.”"

She went through the supplies to make a list of what she needed and then after she left I had a breakfast and carried on reading my book about Montana at the turn of the 20th Century.

We’ve reached a very interesting passage about the construction of the “Milwaukie Road” railway through the Rockies and the construction of the St Paul Pass Tunnel.

He told some exciting stories about the town of Taft – a railway town situate at one end of the tunnel. Apparently in the first census of the town the chief occupation was “railroad worker” and the second most popular occupation was “prostitute”.

And when all of the snow melted that first winter that the town was there, they discovered 17 dead bodies.

Yes, the West really was Wild in those days. And all these little anecdotes are in danger of being lost to posterity because no-one is reading these books any more.

After breakfast I had a leisurely start to the day and once I’d come round into the Land of the Living I started on the notes for the radio programme that I started yesterday.

Having fought, sometimes unsuccessfully, wave after wave of fatigue, they are now all written and ready for dictation whenever I can find a moment – presumably on Saturday night.

So starting tomorrow I’ll finish off this little radio project that I have in mind for the start of the year. There are all kinds of people who have contributed so much to the history of rock music despite being totally unaware of the fact and one of the most important needs to be honoured.

In the middle of it all my cleaner came round and we went through my medication to see what I needed, and then I packed her off into town to fetch it.

But woe is me! Oh me miserum! as they would have said in Ancient Rome. My prescription, made out at the end of April, has now expired and I’ve had no news about going to hospital in Paris where it will be renewed.

Consequently I had to write a letter to my doctor to ask him to write a fresh one and hope that he will. That will probably mean yet another visit but it can’t be helped.

Tea tonight was a leftover curry with naan bread, and delicious it was too. I ought to have more of that, but I don’t have the leftovers to go with it.

So now I’m off to bed ready to Fight The Good Fight tomorrow. More of the same, I imagine.

But before I go, talking in Latin reminded me of that American Senator how advertised "wanted – Latin teacher. Native speaker preferred!"
Suppressing their laughter, his colleagues asked him why he wanted one
"I’m being posted to Bolivia" he replied. "They say that that’s in Latin America and I want to be able to speak with the locals"

Saturday 13th July 2024 – IT LOOKS AS …

…. if we’re back on these rally long, difficult afternoons when I’m fast asleep for several hours, totally unaware of what’s going on around me.

And not just for an hour or two but I DO mean several hours. I remember it being 14:30 at one point but the next thing that I knew, it was almost 18:00 and I seem to have wasted almost an entire afternoon.

And that’s a shame because I can waste enough time with all my own efforts without actually needing any help.

Last night I fell asleep quite quickly too once I made it into bed and I can’t remember very much about the night.

Mind you, there wasn’t all that much to remember because once more, it was quite late by the time that I hit the sack. It didn’t take long for STRAWBERRY MOOSE to have me tucked up and comfortable.

When the alarm went off I fell out of bed and went off to the bathroom, grabbing a set of clean clothes on the way and rounding up all the dirty clothes and so on in the apartment

After I was washed and cleaned, it was the turn of the clothes. They all went into the washing machine and I set that off on a cycle. A very clever washing machine, mine.

Back in here I had a listen to find out where I’d been during the night. And, more importantly, if any of my favourite young ladies had come with me. But n such luck. It seems that TOTGA, Castor and Zero have deserted me.

Instead, we started off last night giving someone some driving lessons. We were driving around end ended up with me being admitted to the hospital, not because of an accident but that was probably where the car was on its way to take me. I was admitted to hospital and put into a ward. This was when there was a native uprising. Out outpost was attacked about three or four different times and it degenerated into a conflict like the conflict in ZULU at Isandlwhana … "Rourke’s Drift actually, but never mind" – ed …, half a dozen gallant defenders defending the compound of about 30 people against a horde of marauding savages. What happened in my version was that we had half a dozen or so military people and probably twenty civilians. The civilians weren’t all that keen on defending themselves and thought that we ought to negotiate, which, seeing as the tribes had negotiated with no-one else was a strange decision. They were very reluctant to take any precautions whatsoever and we had to force through. In the end we had the buildings fortified but they were so scattered that they were not much use to anyone really

Yes, I can’t imagine dividing your scanty defences and forces to try to defend every building. It was a maxim of Frederick the Great that "If you try to hold everything, you hold nothing" and we would have been much better off to burn all of the buildings except one and fortify that. And trying to persuade civilians to fight is sometimes extremely difficult, as long as there are other people there to do the fighting for them. Could you imagine how these politicians would fare if they had to pick up a gun and go to the Front.

The team from Llansawel figured again later on. They had started to make one or two signings but there was no signing that really impressed me any, just general run-of-the-mill mainstream Premier players. There was nothing there that they signed that indicated to me that they were hoping for a long and successful life in the JD Cymru League that at the end of their first season would see them relegated back to the regional leagues and someone else would come and take their place which of course would be with the gulf between Tier 2 and Tier 1 it’s only unfortunately to be expected.

And that’s a story that we’ve seen time and time again, of teams being promoted to the Premier Division and relegated straight away. It’s not that they are particularly weak, but that other teams are strengthening. This can be measured by comparing the results of Welsh teams in European competition. When they began to compete in Europe 30 years ago the best Welsh teams were often on the wrong end of some embarrassing scorelines but we saw only this week that even Caernarfon, who finished fifth in the table, can give an experienced European team like Crusaders a little lesson in football.

Liz was on line this morning so we had a long chat that went on for an hour or so while the nurse was taking my blood sample. And for a change, the sample was easy to extract and I don’t know why other people have so many issues about it. It was done in two minutes.

Isabelle sorted out my legs and then left taking away the blood and the “other” sample, and I carried on chatting to Liz over breakfast until she had to go off and do other things.

There were other things that I needed to do to but at 11:00 I had a phone call from my friend Robert who lives in the Orkneys (or Shetlands, I can’t remember now). We have a little project on the go and we shall be working on this for a while, maybe with the help of one or two other people.

But more of this anon

After the ‘phone call I hung up my washing and that should be drying nicely now. For a change, everything is up-to-date in that respect, and that’s not something that happens every day

Lunch was a salad sandwich with the last of the home-made bread so I made a mental note to make another loaf. I’ll need bread for the next few days, but I’ll also be taking some sarnies with me to the hospital. I know that their idea of food and my idea of food are likely to be different and I don’t intend to starve.

It was while I was sitting down refreshing myself ready to make the bread that things all went pear-shaped. And it wasn’t until about 18:00 that I began to make the bread.

While I had the oven on for the baking I baked some potatoes and one of those breaded quorn fillets that I like so much. No point in only having half an oven filled with stuff. I may as well fill as much as I can.

To pass the time while I was waiting for things to happen I wrote out some notes for one of the radio programmes that’s on the go at the moment. Every little time spent on it helps in the long run.

Tea tonight was a salad with my things out of the oven and it was quite a success, although I must admit to looking forward to the day that I will be in the apartment downstairs with a proper oven and not a little table-top one like I have.

So now I have some dictating to do, and then I’m off to bed ready to fight the good fight tomorrow.

But thinking about my dream reminds me of a conversation that I overheard at a football match a while back.
One guy was telling his friend "I was playing cards with some Africans last night"
"Zulus?" asked his friend
"No, I won fifty quid"

Sunday 30th June 2024 – I’M NOT SURE …

… how long I can keep this all going. Throughout the last few months I’ve had plenty of moments when I wished that I could just close the book, lie down and go to sleep. And believe me, I had one or two of those during the day today

It’s not anything physical – well, it is, my physical condition is deteriorating rapidly, but what I mean is that there’s no pain or suffering or anything like that, at least, not yet. It’s the effect that it’s all having on my mental well-being that’s dragging me down

Doing almost anything is a complicated affair, trying to work out how I’m going to do whatever it is that I have to do while manipulating … "PERSONipulating" – ed … a pair of crutches. My whole life has become one of simple logistics.

“Simple” was the word, nothing complicated last night about going to bed. I was in bed by 23:30 so with the alarm set for 08:00 for a Sunday, for once I was set to have something of a decent lie-in.

And so it goes without saying that I was wide awake at 07:00, up and about at 07:30 and when the alarm did go off at 08:00 I was already washed, dressed and at the computer.

The nurse came round at about 08:30 to sort out my legs. She showed me her photos from last weekend at Lyon and some of them were really good.

While she was here and in a receptive mood I told her (in polite, sensitive terms of course) that I felt that the two nurses ought to be keeping a closer watch on how my condition deteriorates, and how disappointed I was that they let me get into such an awful state a couple of weeks ago.

She explained that all of that should have shown up in the various blood tests that I’d had and had the hospital or my GP looked at them closely they would have seen for themselves without the need to look at me, just how badly things were going.

There is naturally some truth in this, but nevertheless I suspect that there’s also a certain amount of buck-passing there too.

After she left I had breakfast, and then I had letters to write.

Two of the letters were painful. One was to tell my tenant in the apartment downstairs that I won’t be renewing the lease when it expires next Spring – or, at least, instruct the letting agent to do so.

Then I can move in. On the ground floor too so I can move around outside easier. I’ll smash out the bath and have a walk-in shower, and there will be a “kitty corner” for a new sub-tenant who will no doubt pay her rent in dead seagulls.

What could possibly go wrong?

As for the second, I’d rather not talk about that but someone who follows these pages will know about it.

What completed the morning was going away with the fairies for an hour or two. In fact Rosemary awoke me because she wanted a chat.

She’s still gallivanting around Italy and wanted to tell me what a good time she’s been having. As a result, we had another one of our mega-chats that goes on for ever.

She was also telling me that she had, in a moment of reckless abandon, volunteered for midwife duties despite knowing nothing whatsoever about babies, children, giving birth and all of that.

We joked about that famous line in THE WILD BUNCH when William Holden says "What I don’t know about, I sure as hell am gonna learn".

A baby however is more complicated than a machine gun, that’s for sure.

While we’re on the subject of babies … "well, one of us is" – ed … for the last couple of days I’ve had an overwhelming desire for baked beans on toast. I’m certain that I’m not pregnant; nevertheless the feeling has been growing stronger and stronger.

Having travelled the World, qt least, the Northern hemisphere part of it, I can say without fear of contradiction that no-one, no-one at all anywhere in the World that I have visited, makes baked beans like the Brits. Not even the “British recipe” ones in Maritime Canada.

When Liz and Terry were here last year or whenever it was they brought a tray of beans and I baked a loaf on Friday so at lunchtime I satiated my desire. Mind you, nice though as it was, I could sit down and eat it all over again.

This afternoon I transcribed the notes on the dictaphone. I was working for a hardware place last night. It was one of these places that had a really structured format – people entered at the bottom of their grades and slowly worked their way up their grades, all the way through and out to the top. There were several young guys who had started a while back who were near the bottom but I’d been watching their progress a little and was quite pleased that they seemed to be very apt and very capable, very willing to push hard and progress so I encouraged them. Then a girl joined. She seemed to think that she was entitled to everything because she had a superior education. She made a few comments to these people which I thought was poor but I let them pass. One day there was a question of someone having to stay overnight so we agreed that we’d all do it. Someone said that they’d have to bring their child in. They brought in their child and tucked it up. And when their part of the night finished we tucked them up in the bed with the child and carried on working. Towards the morning the child awoke – awoke with a start – and was so worried about where it was, it had school and it was panicking around so we tried our best to reassure it but it was panicking. Suddenly its portable alarm went off, which added to the confusion. But the girl whom I mentioned who was having a few things to say about the situation so I reminded her that we were all trying to do a very difficult job etc. I happened to mention these boys and said that she needn’t think that she was the only game in town because they were pushing on. They were quite capable too so she shouldn’t be surprised if one day she found herself cornered out by these guys. She replied “oh, you’ve noticed too, have you?” and mentioned one of them, how good he was when he’d had his medication, which was something of a dig but again I let it pass. I could see that this girl was going to need some extremely careful handling. If she’s not careful she’ll end up running this department, running my job, I’ll be nowhere. I wasn’t convinced that her personality was the correct personality to make any progress in this company, being so pushy and aggressive when these other people are being so smooth and calm.

And we’ve all worked with people like that, who come into a business and think that they can run it from Day One by upsetting everyone and everything

This female officer arrived at our unit – tall and thin, dark hair and with something to prove, so she thought, and was determined to make her mark on us but we were old sweats at this. We knew full well that it didn’t work like that but we were prepared to give her a little rope. It concerned some kind of little battle that was noisy and violent but didn’t last long. She was wondering why she hadn’t been invited to take part. We explained that it was all over so quickly that there wasn’t really time to go in for an organised formation. We just had to defend our position ad lib which we did. By the time that she arrived the firefight was over. So she carried on talking but let it go, but made it quite clear that she wanted to go on our next operation no matter what it was and where it was to so we made a note. The next night we were asked to go on an armed reconnaissance in force into the trenches as far as a small village a mile or so away where we had to pin everyone down, including the chief of the defending army while our Army somewhere else did something different. We worked out all of our plans and arranged that this woman would be called at the very last minute and be expected to travel in the state in which she appeared because she didn’t look the type. She looked the type who needed an hour’s preparation for a photograph. We were all preparing and were on the point of calling her when she suddenly appeared and wanted to know why she hadn’t been called. I replied that we hadn’t been mustered to set off yet, it was our sole preparation time and we were preparing. She wondered why she hadn’t been asked to prepare. I explained that at the last meeting that we’d had, she explained to us that she was always ready so we assumed that if she said that she was always ready then she was always ready and needed no preparation. She could step into the car at the very last minute and come with us. She was not satisfied with any of this explanation but we made sure that it was our version that was written on the combat reports so that Head Office could actually see it

And here we go again with a similar situation, people coming in and not having the patience to look around and see how the system works and how everything functions. After all, it was functioning quite well before they arrived.

Later on we had to go to Disney to meet those people from yesterday By the time everyone had finished walking on the beach and preparing, we were about an hour late at the meeting point. But we turned up all the same and had to fight our way down the queues. There was a sign that read “entry today 60p” so we prepared 60p but when we reached the machine it was 89p. We all thought that that was highly illegal so we fumed and moaned but sorted out some cash instead, paid and went in, picking up our free tickets and vouchers. The coffee came in huge, enormous mugs but it was freezing cold . I don’t know where they’d had this coffee stored. The food was typical “Tricatel” stuff slopped on your plates. It seemed that no-one in my group was worried about meeting these two other people from yesterday. It seemed that there was no sense of time or sense of urgency. All one guy was doing was busy changing the label he’d put round his baby daughter’s face mark so he wouldn’t hit him in the face. No-one seemed to care. I thought that this was a very strange way to be running any kind of business – someone should have found these people’s phone numbers and phoned them but it was nothing to do with me. I let the other people make the arrangements and it was easy to be totally fouled up and what was worse was that no-one seemed to be bothered about it.

And which “people from yesterday”? This journey sounds like a typical cock-up organised in just the way that anything would be organised within our family. The importance of rendez-vous is “who, when and where” expressed briefly and succinctly , not this total anarchic chaos that seems to pervade just about everything and hoping for the best, something that never ever happens.

There was the question of the publication of a children’s book which had been done to a certain type of formula prepared by another Society. Halfway through the proceedings the other society had withdrawn its permission. Now it was taking on a whole new meaning as there had to be a whole new redesign of the work that had been done. Somehow was involved in this but I had a feeling that things were not going correctly, that one of our employees for reasons best known to himself was dragging his heels with this and making life difficult so we tried to chivvy him along but it didn’t seem to work. It was causing all kinds of problems. The document checks weren’t working out very well, standard phrases had to be re-written etc. In the end I finished a pile of work, put it in a container and posted it in one of these aerial vacuum systems somewhere. It fed into the circuit just as someone went into there to reach for a document. The whole thing of my work fell onto his shoulder. I thought to myself “he won’t do that again in a hurry, will he? He’ll know what to expect the next time that he’ll try to fetch something from the vacuum system”.

And there’s always one of those in every organisation too, someone who slows down other people’s creative spirit because he never thought of the idea first so he doesn’t want it to work at any price.

But having complained the other day about the poor quality of recent dreams, last night made up for a lot of it. All I need now is Castor, Zero and TOTGA to come and cheer me up.

It might have been possible for them to come this afternoon because I was away with the fairies yet again for a couple of hours, but no such luck.

But that’s what’s depressing me – this continual crashing out during the day. Rosemary thinks that I’ll feel much better once the dialysis begins. Quite frankly, I couldn’t feel much worse.

There was time to complete another radio programme before tea tonight. I edited some text that I’d dictated last night before going to bed, and then assembled a programme completely.

Grahame says that he’s surprised that I’m still bashing out the radio programmes, and so am I. There’s bound to be a point where my eyesight will fail completely or else I’ll be spending too much time asleep, but we’re not quite there yet.

Tea was of course a vegan pizza. I’d taken a lump of dough out of the freezer after lunch and when it had thawed I rolled it out and assembled it.

On that note I’ll clear off and go for an early night. But before I go I’ll leave you with another one of my heroes.

Not the Irish politician Sir Boyle Roche this time, but the baseball coach Laurence Peter “Yogi” Berra
When asked how he wanted his pizza sliced, whether in 6 slices or 8 slices, he replied
"You better slice it in six. I don’t think that I could manage eight slices."

Sunday 23rd June 2024 – I’M ABSOLUTELY WHACKED!

Yes, again!

And even worse and more tired than the other day when I was so tired that I really hoped that the World would end.

Once again, it was being in the kitchen that did it and once again it involved food. I’m pleased to say that it was a worthwhile exercise as the table is now groaning with victuals and I won’t ever starve again.

In fact it’s been an extremely busy 24 hours. Before going to bed I dictated a pile of radio stuff. Not all of it because there’s more there than any one man can handle in one sitting, but it’s part of the backlog out of the way.

And as for the new ZOOM H8, I wish that I knew where the tone controls are. When I’m dictating it sounds as if I have my head in a bucket.

What I did took me up until midnight and it was about 00:30 when I crawled under the covers. It didn’t take me long to drop off, that’s for sure.

There was another phantom alarm this morning at about 06:15 and I was halfway out of bed thinking that it was the real alarm before I worked out what it was. Someone had sent me a text message and it was the “alert” on my phone that had awoken me this morning.

What a way to start the day on a Sunday! I climbed back into bed for a couple of hours extra sleep.

When the alarm finally went off I fell out of bed, washed and dressed and proceeded to await the nurse. He didn’t have much to say for himself today but he seems to be more friendly all round so I’ve no idea what’s happening.

Hr sorted me out with my puttees and so on and then cleared off. I sat around for a few minutes to catch my breath and then went to make breakfast – porridge and nice, strong coffee.

There was some stuff on the dictaphone from the night. And it’s rather ominous. I was back in Bomber Command but for some reason or other I ended up in hospital. You could tell by the long faces of the nurses that it was pretty serious. One day they announced that they were having to move the hospital. Most of the patients would be evacuated but some patients would have to stay behind as being too ill to move like that. I found to my horror that I was actually one of those being left behind. We were just going to be left in the battle zone and everyone else would clear off out of the way. This was what made me realise now that this was going down the final stretch of my illness and this would be it

And then later on I slipped right back into that dream. It kept on recurring two or three times before the alarm went off

It’s the idea of it being a recurring dream that’s unsettling. I mentioned yesterday that some people seem to think that I’m more ill than I think that I am (if that’s even possible) and this dream seems to underline it. With a visit to the surgeon during the week, it’s not really the correct time to have dreams like this at all.

The rest of the morning was spent relaxing, “saving my strength for the struggle that lies ahead” as Professor Janssens at Castle Anthrax mentioned. I’m sure that she didn’t mean “the kitchen” but that’s where I’ve spent most of the afternoon.

Having been slaving away over a red-hot stove all afternoon, I now have in the kitchen …

a loaf of bread, nice, big, soft and fluffy just like bread should be
a vegan flapjack, ready in case I have to go back to the hospital
24 raisin and orange biscuits that should have been cranberry and orange but I had no cranberries
the pièce de resistance – the usual Sunday pizza

With not having much room to work, with only a small oven and being on crutches, it involved quite a juggling act in order to make it all and then fire it up in the oven. It was so exhausting that at one stage when I sat down I crashed out and it was only Liz texting me that saved a disaster in the oven, awakening me just in time.

But while I was asleep I was away with the fairies again There was something about the turret of an Avro Lancaster but instead of four guns it only had one fitted. This sounded as if it might have been an interesting dream but I’m glad that I awoke anyway.

In between all of this there were other fish to fry.

Firstly, during one pause I listened to and edited the notes that would finish off one of the radio programmes. It ended up over-running by 19 seconds but there was 18.993 seconds of music that could be over-dubbed as it happened

Later, we had football. I mentioned the other day that I was glad that I wasn’t hospitalised during the football season. That would have been a disaster.

Mind you, as the Duke of Wellington said after the Battle of Waterloo, it was "the nearest run thing you ever saw in your life". Pre-season friendlies are now slowly springing into life and this afternoon we had Stranraer v Larne, the old “Seasick Derby”.

It was a quiet game without much excitement but Larne scored a belting goal after 61 minutes, only to concede an even better one 5 minutes later.

1-1 in a game where neither side broke out into a sweat was about right. Larne are playing in the Champions League next month and they are going to have to play much, much better than this if they want to go anywhere and do anything.

When I recovered my form and strength I went back and carried on in the kitchen and then once it was clean, tidy and all washed up, I could sit down to my delicious pizza.

and now that I’ve eaten my pizza I can sit down and finish my notes before going to bed. And won’t I be pleased to finally call it a day today? I mean – I’m surprised to be retired and supposed to be dying. Yet I don’t think that I’ve ever worked so hard in my life as I have these last few days.

The kind of people I used to know (with one or two exceptions) were summed up by the guy who; told me that he really liked work
"Is that so?" I asked him with a trace of bitterness
"Ohh absolutely" he replied keenly. "I can sit and watch it for hours"

Wednesday 29th May 2024 – IN THE MIDDLE …

… of a period where my work output has slowed down to the kind of speed that makes a crawl look rapid, today I had a day where I emulated my namesake the mathematician and did three fifth of five eights of … errr … nothing.

In fact, I probably didn’t even do three fifths of five eights of it. It’s not been a very good day for me in that respect.

And that’s a shame because for once I actually managed something like an early night. Even going to bed and sliding under the covers was easier and I could toss and turn all night to my heart’s content. For the first time in several weeks i actually felt content in bed.

For a change I slept through to the alarm and found that I could even sit upright in bed without pain. When I arose from my stinking pit I actually felt in a much better frame of mind too and it looked like being a good day

It didn’t take long for things to go south, that’s for sure. For a start that large file transfer that I’d tried to do yesterday had failed and I had to do it again later in the day.

First though I had to go through the usual morning routine and I’ll tell you for nothing that this anti-potassium stuff really does taste awful.

Next step was to have a good wash and change of clothes. My old clothes walked into the laundry basket on their own

The nurse came around later on and as well as the usual morning routine for him, he had to give me my injection and take a blood sample. Consequently I’m feeling like a dartboard again because he doesn’t have “the touch”.

And I wish that he’d stop moaning. I’m not responsible for the (lack of) light in the dining area or the diameter of my veins and there’s nothing that I can do about it.

After he left I transcribed the dictaphone notes. I dreamed once again that the alarm had gone off so I arose and left the bed. I had to tell my mother where the alarm was so that she could show my brother for the following morning. Just then the alarm went off again. I thought “well, not to worry. I can awaken him and show him where the alarm is now that the other ‘phone is ringing”. But there was no ‘phone ringing at all. There was no alarm. There was no awakening. It was 11:00 and the last 8 hours that we’d had … fell asleep here …

so we’re back on the phantom alarms again. And back with the family again too. I thought that I’d said “goodbye” to them a while back.

I was with The Saint last night in Midwest USA. Some guy had been killed and everyone was investigating his murder. The last time he was seen was with a couple of women. Slowly, these two women were denounced by the neighbours as being Amish and made some kind of living by entrapping single men into marrying one of them and presenting a baby, then hitting the men for alimony that would last for 18 years but in the meantime moving on to the next guy. So The Saint had to find these women and investigate it. Eventually he was picked up by these two women and taken back to their house. He was plied with drink and other kinds of things. It wasn’t too long before some kind of mock or sham marriage was arranged between him and the younger of these two women. It was quite clear what they had in mind which was to entrap him in a bedroom scene. This slowly developed throughout the night until in the end I awoke and missed all of the excitement.

Most un-Amish-like behaviour. I’ve encountered plenty of Amish people. There’s a large pocket of them up around where my place is in New Brunswick and “over across” in Maine. You’re in a hurry going south towards Interstate 95 and suddenly come screeching up behind a horse and buggy. It’s quite disconcerting. All oil lamps and stuff like that – the kind of technology that would even impress the people in Crewe.

The next dream also involved The Saint. The Austrian police had intercepted a drugs run of a large amount of high-quality drugs and needed to find out more. The operation was so secure that no-one knew who their contact was so they decided to infiltrate James Bond … "James Bond?" – ed … as the drugs runner and have him pick up all the information that he could while he was on his way round ready for the final arrest at the appropriate moment. Of course he agreed to this but under some very strict terms to make it look even more convincing such as the fact that he had been arrested and had been released with no charge because the police couldn’t find the drugs on him, therefore he must have had them hidden somewhere extremely secret that no-one else knew and to pick up the story from there, and this was where it all began.

Vienna was always the place for that. The “Crossroads of Europe” where east meets west, the amount of smuggling that went on there across the various borders, and not just in THE THIRD MAN either, was legendary, and probably still is. I was there with a 22-tonne lorry at Christmas 1997 and was told not to leave it parked unattended in the commercial vehicle car park or it would be in Bratislava in half an hour, with me a long way behind.

By the way, can you guess what I’m watching as I eat my evening meal?

My cleaner didn’t clean this afternoon. Instead we had a very lengthy chat about the arrangements for my visitors as I won’t be here to greet them. She knows my apartment and so do they so there shouldn’t be any issues. They can all work it out between them and it’ll probably be easier than if I tried to resolve anything.

As you might expect, I crashed out for a few hours again today. Yesterday of course I didn’t crash out at all which is a rare achievement these days. A shame that I can’t keep it going.

Tea was a left-over curry and this batch of naan bread dough is perfection itself. The naan that I made this evening was delicious, nice and light and fluffy as it’s supposed to be

So right now I’m going to bed. Tomorrow I’m backing up the computer, packing and baking bread.

But something that I wrote just now reminds me of the two guys who locked themselves out of their apartment. One of their windows was open so they borrowed a ladder and began to climb up.
"Doing this makes me feel like a fireman" said one
"Me too" replied his friend "but where would we find one at this time of night?"

Wednesday 15th May 2024 – AFTER YESTERDAY’S LITTLE …

… outburst, I’m still here. Alive and while I’m not quite kicking there’s been further improvement in my right hip. The pain’s not so bad and I’m raising my leg a little more. Getting dressed and undressed is not quite as complicated a struggle as it was.

But going back to my … errr … somewhat intemperate outburst last night, new readers of this rubbish, of which there are more than just a few these days, will be wondering why I don’t come along later and edit them out.

The fact is, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, that my mental health is as important as my physical health and it needs monitoring just the same. These remarks are an important gauge of how my mental health is doing and I need to make a note of it so that I can look back later and compare notes, to see how I’m doing over the long-term.

But despite how bad things were looking last night, "When your back’s against the wall it’s time to turn round and fight" as John Major once famously said. "Better counsel comes overnight" Said Gotthold Lessing and so I eventually wandered off to bed, nothing like as early as I was hoping.

It was however yet again another turbulent night with a phantom alarm call which I managed to almost ignore, and stayed in bed until the real alarm went off at 07:00.

At the time that it went off I was in Thailand living with a Thai family. Apparently I’d been extremely ill and was living there for some kind of rest and recuperation although I’ve no idea about any more than that. And what kind of rest and recuperation I’d get with a Thai family in Thailand is anyone’s guess

And despite having had a drink with my medication before retiring, I had a thirst that you could photograph this morning. My pint of flavoured water with the morning’s medication didn’t last long, I’ll tell you

The nurse came round as usual just as I was watching yesterday’s game in one of the English play-offs and we sorted out the dressing on my right foot followed by my puttees.

He’s not impressed at all with the condition of my lower legs and frankly, neither am I. I don’t think that this problem is going to be resolved quickly if at all.

After he left I finished off watching my football match . When I had time, good health and good rail connections, like when I lived in Leuven, I’d go ground-hopping around various football matches all over that area of Europe, but these days I have to go virtual ground-hopping on the internet.

It’s not an ideal situation but as Frank Harris said in his controversial biography MY LIFE AND LOVES, "all human beings took what pleasure they could get whenever they could get it"

Once the match had finished and I’d had my coffee and (last) slice of flapjack I actually started work. And with a leisurely stroll through what I had to do, and a sleep of an hour between 11:00 and 12:00 I’d actually finished it by mid-afternoon.

This morning’s sleep was rather different than it has been for the last few weeks in that I actually felt myself falling asleep and so simply let myself go with it. I drifted off quietly and gently into never-land rather than the brutal and abrupt way that it has been just recently.

While the cleaner was here I transcribed the dictaphone notes from the night. There was a phantom alarm at 03:45 again this morning. At that time I was doing something with a girls’ football team from Florida, maybe training them or something like that but as soon as I awoke everything that I was dreaming evaporated. I can hardly remember a thing about it now.

There was something else about me being involved in a girls’ football or rugby team again. I was negotiating with High Schools or maybe other colleges to fetch girls to the college to train them for either football or rugby. This seemed to go on for hours. I had a really good team at the end – I built a tank whereby the weight of clothes would dry yourself afterwards was quite complicated but much more rapid than the normal way so it might even become a household word by the time that our team stopped doing it when I was badly injured

But what is all this about me being involved in girls football and rugby teams? There is no conceivable way that I would ever be involved in a rugby team. A girls’ football team is slightly more likely, but only slightly. And why should it suddenly have become a recurring theme?

After my cleaner had left and I’d had my hot chocolate I had the usual call from the hospital asking how I was so I gave them both barrels. I don’t expect to hear anything back from them but we shall see.

What I did was to come in here and start the next radio programme. Well, “start” is a big word because much of the time was spent looking for music that I need that I don’t actually have

However I did end up having a Southern Rock-fest that ended with Neil Young playing ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER

As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I’m a big fan of Southern Rock, with lead guitar solos that can last sometimes several weeks. There was the Three Rivers Festival in Columbia, South Carolina where I managed to blag a way in with my little female Mexican friend to see Widespread Panic in 2005 which was exceptional, and for several reasons too.

Tea tonight was a delicious leftover curry that I really enjoyed, especially the naan bread that went with it. It’s a really good way to clear out the left-over food in the fridge

But right now I’m off to bed and hope for an even better day tomorrow. "dawn is ever the hope of men" said Aragorn in LORD OF THE RINGS and as long as I can get out of bed I’ll be OK.

Not like the guy who turned p two hours late for work
"What’s the meaning of this?" asked his boss
"It’s that new travelling alarm clock that the wife bought" he replied
"What about it"
"I left it on the bedside table last night" replied the man "but it must have set off on its travels during the night. It’s nowhere to be found this morning"

Monday 13th May 2024 – TODAY HAS BEEN …

… a somewhat better day than yesterday, which is good news as far as I am concerned

And so it should be because yesterday was a pretty miserable one.

At least today I’ve managed to be able to leave my comfortable chair (up to present anyway) which is more than can be said on one occasion yesterday

At the end of the evening last night I did actually manage it again and was able to haul myself off to do whatever I need to do around the apartment before going to bed.

But going to bed was another adventure and I really felt at one moment as if I’d be sleeping for the night on my chair. And no joke – I actually know a lady in Canada who does just that. But her own chair of course, not mine.

After something of a considerable effort I managed to find my way into bed where I had another really turbulent night. God knows what it would be like if I had to share my bed with another person.

The night was completed by a couple of false alarm calls and I’m really bewildered as to what it might be that I’m hearing that’s awakening me like this under pretext that it’s my alarm.

Eventually though the 07:00 alarm went off and I had to fight the good fight to make my way out of bed to switch the alarm calls off, cutting off BILLY COTTON in his prime.

And I awoke to vision problems. The illness is spreading through my nervous system and so it’s bound to reach the eyes sooner or later, and one of the side effects of one of the pills that I’m taking is “disturbed vision”. I suppose that if it had to look at me for all this time, no wonder that it’s disturbed.

After the bathroom I went to the dining area for all of my medication and then to lay out the room for Isabelle the nurse. This is her last visit for a week so she’s off tomorrow – for 5 days in Lisbon. It’s all right for some, isn’t it?

She instructed me to wash my puttees for the boss, with whom she alternates, so I’ll do that this evening. Lucky that I have a spare set.

When she left I came back in here to see what was going on. First of all, if you want to see (some of) the highlights of the game between Y Drenewydd and Penybont to see just how bad Y Drenewydd were then LOOK HERE. but be prepared to hide behind the sofa as things become scary.

The highlights of CAERNARFON v CARDIFF METRO show a much more even but rather distorted view of that game. The truth is that Caernarfon were rampaging forward throughout the game, to the delight of the Cofi Army, the most passionate fans in Europe, but the Met just hit them on the break three or four times.

After my toast (the last of the bread that I made last week) and coffee I set myself an exciting project. I have a radio programme on the 14th February 2025 (if I’m still here) and 14th February 1970 is the date that LIVE AT LEEDS one of the greatest live albums ever, was recorded at Leeds University.

The live album itself is only 37 minutes long but I was absolutely certain that the concert itself would have been much longer than that.

The setlist is available on SETLIST.FM and it can’t have been less than two hours so I set myself a task to prove that I am worthy, and that was to track down a recording of the entire concert. There must be one somewhere.

And sure enough, after some diligent searching, I can now tell you that the concert lasts 2:07:04 and that’s some going. I can see me doing a lot of editing.

After my lunchtime fruit and a discussion with my cleaner, I had a listen to the dictaphone. And I was right because there certainly was a couple of false alarms. However I started off in the Soviet Union during the war there was a huge loss of male population so as some kind of Commissar I tried to organise means to increase the population. I found a book written by some obscure author on this point that promoted the idea so I praised him and praised his thoughts etc. It then turned out that Stalin had another opinion, another idea, and I had quickly to undo the praise that I’d done and given the author. One of my nieces had become pregnant in this project so we had to find her and give her an abortion but she was full of praise for this guy and totally refused to co-operate. That made life difficult for all of us

Mind you, I could think of several ways in which I could help increase the population of another country without having to rely on any author – except perhaps whoever was the author of the Karma Sutra

First false alarm at 04:10 – I was dreaming at the time that I was still working for the Soviet Union. Another book had been examined about someone’s sporting achievements but as usual he’d fallen foul of the regime so we’d had to edit it all out from any future book. The guy himself was called to a meeting. He eventually arrived, having had a conflict with a group of females on the doorstep and as he switched to the news we saw a huge supertanker of ICI had run aground on one of the inland lakes and they were now waiting for a change in the tide so that they could try to float it off

And don’t worry if nothing makes sense. I can’t understand it either.

Another call at 06:06 – a false alarm

What I was dreaming of at 06:06 was of some old man living on the street who was always there with his sign and a list of the things that he needed. He was arrested in Leeds, for vagrancy presumably and was carted off. We didn’t see him for several months. Then after several months had passed we saw him again on the streets of Liverpool with two signs saying “the seeds of business £25”. He was saying that he’d expanded his area of research from what he had learned at police college

The rest of the day has been working on more radio stuff. All of the music has been chosen for the next radio programme, it’s been paired off and I’ve started to write the notes. It’ll be quite a sad one because it will be broadcast on the anniversary of the death of one of my friends and will include one of his more … errr … esoteric tracks.

My cleaner came back with supplies and a neighbour came to visit. I really am in great demand these days and I’ve no idea why.

Tea was a stuffed pepper, delicious as usual with plenty of stuffing left over for the next couple of days. I should take advantage of it, after all, many people have told me that I need a good stuffing.

But on the subject of all things Russian during the night, Zero once told me that at school she’d taken part in a Russian ballet.
"Why Russian?" I asked her.
"I don’t know" she replied. "I suppose that it’s because I had to go Russian onto the stage at the start, go Russian around while the music played, and then go Russian off at the end."

EPIC HALL

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

Tag Archives: http://www.amazon.co.uk

Tuesday 26th November 2024 – HOW LONG IS IT …

Sunday 24th November 2024 – RIGHT NOW I’M IN …

Wednesday 23rd October 2024 – PHEW! I’M EXHAUSTED!

Saturday 28th September 2024 – ONE MORE DAY …

Saturday 14th September 2024 – SO THAT’S DAY …

Tuesday 27th August 2024 – I HAVE MADE …

Saturday 10th August 2024 – IT’S NOT BEEN …

Friday 9th August 2024 – I’M HAVING A …

Wednesday 7th August 2024 – HAVING TALKED LAST …

Saturday 13th July 2024 – IT LOOKS AS …

Sunday 30th June 2024 – I’M NOT SURE …

Sunday 23rd June 2024 – I’M ABSOLUTELY WHACKED!

Wednesday 29th May 2024 – IN THE MIDDLE …

Wednesday 15th May 2024 – AFTER YESTERDAY’S LITTLE …

Monday 13th May 2024 – TODAY HAS BEEN …

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