Tag Archives: late night

Sunday 22nd March 2026 – I HAVE BEEN …

… a busy boy yet again today. You wouldn’t believe that it’s a Sunday, which is supposed to be a Day of Rest for me.

Not that it was much of a rest last night because it was another really late night again. I’ve no idea what time it was when I finally crawled underneath the covers, but it certainly wasn’t 23:30 I’d seen that come and go some time earlier.

It took longer than usual for me to go off to sleep, which appears to be par for the course these days. And although I have a vague recollection of waking up once or twice during the night, the next thing that I remember was the tail-end of the doorbell as Isabelle the Nurse announced her arrival.

She found me in bed, of course, and as well as sorting out my legs and feet, she also had to take some measurements of them too. That was complicated enough, and as much as I wanted just to go back to sleep, her irrepressible good nature meant that she talked all the way through the procedure.

After she left, try as I might, I couldn’t go back to sleep afterwards and so, about half an hour later, I raised myself from the Dead and went off to the bathroom.

In the kitchen later, I remembered to take some of my medication, and then I made breakfast. Porridge, strong coffee and two of my home-made croissants. And there’s no doubt about it — these croissants are some of the best that I have ever made.

While I was eating, I was reading some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, we’re discussing the (brief) Venetian recapture of some of the Greek territory from the Ottomans.

But it’s the same story as usual — disputes among the conquerors, disputes among their subjects, disputes between the conquerors and their subjects. Here, you have all of the ingredients that you need to ensure that, once the Ottomans gather up their strength and their resources, they will simply walk back into their former territories.

Back in here, I had the dictaphone notes to transcribe.

I’d been chatting to a taxi driver around Granville, related to a company that had a lot of Mercedes cars and a few odd, indiscriminate ones. At the end of the shift, I was talking to this taxi driver and looking through the window of the garage where you could see all of the vehicles there. He asked if I would go in to see if he’d been given credit for the final job that he had done. That meant going up and touching the taxi plate, pushing it and the last job would appear in the windscreen of the car. I went in, but I couldn’t find his particular car. There were all sorts of cars in there. The dream then moved on to something about the work in the European Union and an article on the chauffeurs. I was really disappointed to see that my name wasn’t mentioned, but it described some of the work that we had to do. It said that only two of the chauffeurs were authorised to take the luggage down to the south of France. This dream carried on, discussing the work, and then there was an article that the chauffeurs had decided to stop issuing certain visas to certain people. The company that controlled the issue of visas agreed with them, so these visas were stopped being issued

The first part of the dream relates to the taxi company that takes me about to my hospital appointments. I’ve been to their premises a few times late at night, and seen through the window their taxis parked up in the barn until next morning. Pressing the taxi plate wouldn’t do anything, though, because they don’t have plates — they have stickers.

As for the second part, we did have the press round the EU on several occasions and on one of them, I was actually filmed. Not that I ever denied anyone a visa though — I don’t understand that. It was however my responsibility to take one of my boss’s subordinates around for visas when someone from that office was required to travel.

There had been a rise in pilgrims from the Latin, the Frank and the Byzantine communities heading towards Jerusalem, and their habit of lying prostrate on the floor and kissing the soil when they arrived was inciting a lot of comments. It was therefore decided that they would stop the ferries that were bringing the pilgrims over by sea and the Byzantines were delighted by this.

This presumably relates to the book that I’m reading right now.

After that, I had a footfest – the highlights of the games in the JD Cymru League yesterday. However, there was nothing interesting or controversial in there.

Afterwards, there was Stranraer once again losing — this time to Clyde 2-1 in a game that they should have won had it not been for them falling asleep for five minutes shortly after the start of the second half.

We then had Greenock Morton recording a surprising away win against Ayr United. The way that Morton have been playing just recently, I wouldn’t have thought that they would win a raffle, even if they were the only entrants.

After a rather late disgusting drink break, I attacked the new computer. Yesterday, I couldn’t seem to make it read the disks in the array, so I concentrated on that for several hours. In the end, I managed to make it function, and now I have most of what I want in the way of disks connected to the computer.

With what time was left, I was uploading my entire suite of programs to the computer, and now, that’s pretty much how I would like it to be.

At about 17:00 I knocked off for cooking. Firstly, I made the dough for my pizza base and then secondly, I made my really thick custard.

While I was baking my pizza, I poured the cooled custard all over the vegan jelly. Now it’s beginning to look like a trifle. I hope that it actually tastes like one too. I shall find out on Tuesday.

The pizza was delicious, though. I experimented by using sliced cheese that I grated rather than the grated cheese. And indeed, it was much nicer. It’s more time-consuming though, but you can’t win everything.

And now I’m off to bed if this appalling cough will let me. It’s really bad tonight. I just hope that they will be impressed by it at dialysis tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the disk array … "well, one of us has" – ed … I was speaking to one of my friends about it, and I asked her to send her congratulations to the array now that the computer can read it
"Certainly" she replied. "Hip, hip, array!"

Monday 16th March 2026 – LATE HOME AGAIN!

Yes, this is really getting on my wick these days. Nothing that I can seem to do seems to galvanise them into action at the dialysis clinic, and I’m always the last to be plugged in and the last to be thrown out.

Having left the apartment at just after 13:00, it was just after 19:30 when I finally put my sooty foot back inside my apartment

In fact, there are quite a few things that are getting on my wick right now, and if I’m not very careful, I’ll blow a gasket. If only I were to still have a spleen, I could vent it in peace without all of this.

Last night wasn’t much better either. As seems to be the case these days, I was horribly late going to bed. It was getting on for 23:45 when I finally slid underneath the covers, and with an alarm set for 6:29, that is good for neither man nor beast.

Although I went to sleep quite quickly, I awoke a few times during the night but luckily, I was able to go back to sleep quite quickly.

When the alarm finally did go off this morning, it took another one of these Herculean efforts to raise myself from the Dead and stagger off to the bathroom.

Apart from a good wash, I also had a shave. Even though Emilie the Cute Consultant doesn’t love me any more, we have to go through all the motions.

In the kitchen, I had my hot drink and medication, and then I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to see if anything went on during the night.

I was with my brother. We were sitting in some kind of cheap café in a town centre that might have been Chester. We were talking about various different things and it became quite late at night or early in the morning. I fell asleep while I was sitting there and was actually quite comfortable. I awoke after about an hour or so, and my brother was still there looking gloomy and glum, so I asked him if he’d managed to go to sleep. He replied that he hadn’t slept for twelve days. I thought that that was surprising, so I asked him why and whether he had considered taking anything for it, but he hadn’t. So we just carried on the chatting when one of my schoolfriends came in and joined in the conversation. Every hour or so, I had to leave the café to go into some kind of gift shop. There was some reason for this that I can’t remember. I didn’t have to buy anything – I just had to go in, go up to the counter and go back out again. So every hour or so, I’d be doing this. In this gift shop was, presumably, the proprietor, but on a bench in what was probably the waiting area was a homeless man who was apparently sleeping there. He was wearing a white suit, but it was the filthiest piece of clothing that I had ever seen, all stained under the arms etc. So I’d go in, go up to the counter, turn round and go back out again and go back to the café. When I came back to the café on one occasion, my schoolfriend was still there, but by now, he had a cup of tea. I said to them “well, if it looks as if we aren’t going to be going to sleep tonight, does anyone want a coffee?”. My schoolfriend said that he had just bought a cup of tea, which I could see, so I asked my brother if he would like a coffee. He said that he did, so I ordered two coffees from the person behind the counter. However, I ordered them in a different language but I can’t remember now what language it was that I used.

So here we go again – yet more family. And a schoolfriend whom I haven’t seen since 1972 except for a brief glimpse a year or two later when he was waiting at a bus stop as I was driving past the other way.

The significance of going into the gift shop or whatever it was, and the homeless person in the filthy white suit totally defeats me, but falling asleep in a café does have a history to it.

In the past, I’ve spoken about the Windsor Free Festival and our trip down there when some of the people with us nearly came to grief when a tyre on the van blew out going down the motorway. My friend and I, after chatting up two girls who wouldn’t come with us, went down on his motorbike, a Triumph 350.

On the way back, after forty-eight hours with no sleep, my friend who was at the front fell asleep and we almost crashed. He asked me to drive the machine after that, but he fell asleep on the pillion and fell off the seat onto the rear mudguard.

After that, he took over the controls but when we reached Oxford Services, he’d had enough. We went inside and we both fell asleep, sitting on chairs and hunched over a table.

Ohh happy days!

There was something else about being with a group of students. It involved them going rock-climbing. One of them fell and broke his ankle but that’s really all that I remember of that dream.

This doesn’t seem to relate to anything.

The nurse came quite early this morning, full of life and energy, seeing as he’s off on his week’s break this evening. He didn’t stay long and I could make my breakfast and read some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.

Today, we’re now discussing the Genoese possessions in the islands of Greece, one of which was the island of Ikaria.

Reading some notes about the island, I found that it’s been said to be one of the healthiest places on the planet, "where the population regularly lives to an advanced age (one in three make it to their 90s and a significant percentage are centenarians and beyond)".

It’s said too that their … errr … inter-couple private activity continues to an advanced age, with "80% of Ikarian males aged between 65 and 100 were found to still be having" … errr … friendly relations " on a regular basis". So when is the next ‘plane to Ikaria?

After breakfast, I reviewed the forthcoming radio programme and then sent it off. After that, I revised my Welsh until it was time for my cleaner to arrive.

After she’d sorted out my anaesthetic, I waited for the taxi to arrive, and then we cleared off to pick up someone else to take to Avranches. Her appointment was at 13:45 and mine was at 14:00 so, even though her rendezvous was right across the other side of Avranches, we went there first.

And Avranches is in total chaos. For the next six weeks, the bridge over the railway line by the station is closed and the diversion adds miles to the route. And then, there was an entrance to the motorway closed, so that we had all of that to deal with, and to make matters worse, there was an accident that had closed off part of the motorway a little further down.

We did actually make it for 14:00, but I wasn’t plugged in until 14:50. And it was quite late when I was unplugged too.

The doctor came to see me, so I discussed my “dry weight” with him. He agreed that it should have been reduced the other week and he’ll note it starting the next session. Emilie the Cute Consultant said “hello” too.

Once I’d been thrown out, we joined the chaos outside and then slowly headed back home, going as quickly as we could, which wasn’t all that fast.

Tea tonight was the rest of the pizza followed by vegan cheesecake, and now I’m ready to go to bed if the stabbing pain in my foot would only stop.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Ikaria … "well, one of us has" – ed … an Ikarian man of 97 went to the doctor to complain that he could no longer make love to his wife.
"It’s not really a surprise" said the doctor. "At your age, you’ll be slowing down."
"But my neighbour, he’s 99 and he says that he makes love to his wife three times per week. What can I do?"
"Well, you could always say the same thing."

Saturday 14th March 2026 – MY VEGAN CHEESECAKE …

… is magnificent!

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I posted on here a few days ago about the dessert that I should make once my birthday cake is finished. And while most of the suggestions that I received were totally unprintable in a family-orientated blog, there wasn’t a one that made any suggestions about making a vegan dessert.

Consequently, I had to put on my thinking cap and try to invent something.

It’s a good job that I didn’t have my thinking cap on last night, because I probably would have ended up with even less sleep than I actually had. Despite pushing on as best as I could and trying all I could to avoid distractions, it was 23:30 exactly when I crawled into bed.

As usual, I managed to go off to sleep quite quickly, but once again, it wasn’t for long. At 04:20, I was wide awake again, awoken by a stabbing pain in the foot and a desperate fit of coughing.

An hour later, I was still wide awake, but I must have gone to sleep at some point because the alarm at 06:29 awoke me from a really deep slumber.

When the alarm went off, I was round at my father’s. He had an old Ford Transit van and had completely emptied it. He was going through, scraping all the mud out of the body panels and recesses because he was going to weld a new floor into it. When I had a look, I thought to myself that it’s not before time that he’s doing this. He was finding all sorts of stuff. Then he was talking about a transport company called Fitzgerald’s – apparently, I’d met them once at some kind of party but I didn’t remember. He said that Fitzgerald had told him that the company was going under. My father said that he wasn’t surprised because they were very expensive and, of course, freight has become a cutthroat industry these days. He poured a cup of coffee for me, which I drank, but it tasted weird. Then he asked me if I would make another one, so I went to wash the pan in which he’d boiled the water, and there were all the remains of boiled tomatoes in it. I thought “no wonder the coffee had tasted awful” so I went to wash it in the swimming pool there. There was a girl there who might have been Roxanne so I just picked her up and threw her into the pool and then tried to wash the pan. However, the pan was caught around the tap, and the handle broke off. I thought that this was a catastrophe. I played “peek-a-boo” with this little girl for a minute, she diving her head under the water and me ducking my head down so that I could see her under the water through the glass. Then my father came along and said to the little girl, “Eric must have put a lot of effort into throwing you into that swimming pool. I could see him straining every muscle”.

In the past, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, our family has owned all kinds of disreputable motor vehicles, many of which wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a public highway today and probably shouldn’t have been back in those days either.

However, my father was a motor mechanic by profession and in my earnest desire to out-do him, I learnt quite quickly by experience, and I also took night school courses in welding, paint spraying and lathe operation. Between us, we could keep almost anything on the road and running, although the hydraulic tappets on that Vanden Plas 4.0 with the Rolls-Royce engine had us beat for a long, long time.

When Laurence, Roxanne and I used to go to Spain to visit Roxanne’s grandfather, I used to throw Roxanne into the swimming pool on regular occasions, especially when she wasn’t expecting it. She used to squeal but she loved every minute of it.

As for making coffee with water in a dirty pan, that wouldn’t surprise me at all.

As usual, it took a few minutes for me to struggle to my feet, and then I staggered off to the bathroom for a good wash. There were also the undies to wash. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … it’s important for me to keep on top of the washing of clothes like that.

In the kitchen, I made my hot drink and then took my medication. And then I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

I was doing something with several sheets of glass last night, picking them up off different piles, each pile that represented a country in the EU. I was washing one of them so that I could build some kind of fortress somewhere on behalf of each of the countries, but that’s all that I remember of this.

A fort made of glass wouldn’t be of much use now, would it? It makes me wish that I could remember the rest of this dream so that I could find out what happened.

Later on, I was watching a football match involving Pionsat. Twice, from corner kicks down in the far left-hand corner, the Pionsat winger kicked the ball far too hard and sent it completely out of play on the full on the other side of the pitch. I thought that Pionsat couldn’t afford to waste all of these little moments that they have, because they aren’t a very good side and they need all the breaks they can get. A high ball into the penalty area can cause enough confusion to enable them to sneak a goal every now and again, particularly when they have all the players running in as the ball is kicked. But no, both of them went way out of play on the full without bouncing.

This is one thing that bugs me in a lot of football matches these days. The quality of freekicks and corners is pretty abysmal. As I said during the dream, a high ball right into the centre of the goalmouth can cause chaos and panic, and every now and again, something will come out of it.

But most clubs these days seem to want to mess about with the ball in all kinds of fancy tricks, most of which usually lead to them losing possession.

However, dear reader, read on ….

The nurse turned up as usual, just as I was in the middle of a really interesting chat with a couple of friends. I had to go off instead to have him see to my feet.

And today, he managed to avoid touching my really bad right foot. Instead, he dropped the heavy stool right onto it, and I was in agony for hours.

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

Today, we’re reading about how the Marquisate of Boudonitza held out desperately against the Ottomans for many years until 1414, when the Sultan Mohamed I finally captured it. Now, we’ve moved on to discuss Ithaca, the legendary home of Odysseus, if we are to believe the Ancient Greek authors.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, and then I made a start on editing some radio notes that I’d dictated a while back.

After a while, I had to stop because there was football on the internet – Y Fflint v Y Bala.

This was a game that Y Bala had to win if they were to have any chance whatever of avoiding relegation, and so they went at it hammer and tongs. Y Fflint could also have done with a win to haul themselves further away from the relegation zone, but for some reason, Y Bala’s aggressive start to the game knocked Y Fflint out of its stride.

Y Bala had the ball in the back of the net but it was ruled out for an offside, something that was disputed by many people in Cae y Castell this afternoon. Y Fflint took the lead – from a high ball floated in from a corner – but Y Bala equalised, from a high ball in from the wing.

So we had two poor teams rampaging at each other from one end to the other throughout the whole ninety minutes and playing the game as it ought to be played, in my opinion.

But a 1-1 draw? Leaving aside the “offside” goal, in the immediate build-up to Y Bala’s goal, I saw a handball by Y Bala’s Australian striker Jacob Tarasenko, and I would have awarded a penalty to Y Fflint for a blatant shirt-tugging that prevented a Fflint player from reaching a ball in the penalty area.

However that wasn’t all. Another thing that really gets my goat is this modern fascination of “playing it out from the back”, which has led to more disasters and calamities than games that it has won.

But not Joel Torrance in the Bala goal. The former Salford City keeper just kicked the ball as far upfield as he could, and that caused continual panic and chaos to the Fflint defence throughout the game. Why more teams don’t do this, especially against TNS whose central defence is … errr … somewhat “pedestrian” I really don’t know.

Y Fflint’s manager, Lee Fowler, was very dismissive of the game, but I for one quite enjoyed it.

After the football, I went into the kitchen to make my cheesecake.

This was a recipe that I saw in a magazine, and when I looked at it, I reckoned that I could transform it into a vegan recipe with no problems at all, especially as I now have a regular supply of aquafaba, now that I know that it can be frozen.

And it worked too – and in spades. When I sampled some for pudding later, it was absolutely delicious and I’ll make some more like that too.

One thing that I needed was some soya yoghurt, but my faithful cleaner couldn’t find any yesterday. However, just as I’d put it into the oven, she came in waving a pack of six around.

While I was at it, I made some more croissants too. And these also worked in spades. They didn’t have any of the really cheap flaky pastry, so this is the next price up – and it seems to make all the difference.

There was still an hour or so for tea so I finished off editing the radio programme, preparing the two halves, choosing the joining track and preparing it, and then writing the notes.

Tea tonight was falafel with vegan salad and baked potato with cheese, followed by cheesecake. And I’m still not enjoying the first course as much as I used to just recently. I think that my appetite might be changing again.

But not now, because I’m off to bed, ready for my important Sunday lie-in, if the nurse doesn’t drop anything else on my foot while I’m in bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about cars … "well, one of us has" – ed … I’m reminded of an American who was in a bar in Ireland doing his usual American stunt of “showing off”.
"Your farms are so small and pathetic" he said. "Why, back in Texas, I could get into my car and at the end of three days’ driving I still wouldn’t have reached the boundary of my land."
"I know exactly how you feel there." replied a local at the end of the bar.
"You do?" exclaimed the American, incredulously.
"Oh yes" replied the local. "I used to have a car like that myself."

Thursday 12th March 2026 – TONIGHT’S TEA …

… wasn’t as nice as some have been just recently. And I’ve no idea why that might be, because it’s a tea to which I’ve been looking forward for over a week.

Something else to which I’ve been looking forward since Monday morning was a good night’s sleep, but one again, I was thwarted in my ambitions.

Last night’s tea, nice as it was, took so long to prepare, eat and clean up that I ended up running hours late. In fact, I didn’t go to bed until about 23:45 and I need much more beauty sleep than that, especially as I’d been awake so early in the morning.

To go from bad to worse, it was another turbulent night and I felt as if I hadn’t gone to sleep at all. When the alarm went off at 06:29, I was dead to the World and it took me an age to summon up the energy and the courage to head for the bathroom.

Even though Emilie the Cute Consultant doesn’t love me any more, I still had a shave. I might as well go through the motions, even if I don’t feel like it and they are of no earthly purpose.

In the kitchen, I made my hot lemon, ginger and honey drink to go with my medication and then came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out what had gone on during the night. And that was a disappointment too.

It was round about 03:30 when I definitely heard someone shout “aren’t you getting up yet?”. I wondered what time it was, and looked at the clock. It was 03:30 so I don’t know who it was who had awoken me.

When I looked at the timestamp of the soundfile, it showed 03:31, so this dream obviously had some basis in fact somewhere. But that’s a few times now when I’ve either heard a phantom alarm or heard someone shout out during a dream.

There was also something about the bandage and plasters after dialysis but I can’t remember too much about that. In fact, I can’t remember anything really other than the bandage and the plasters.

And this kind of dream makes me wish that there was much more to it than that which I recorded. Or else, it’s my subconscious stopping me from going too far into “what happened next”.

The nurse came along to sort out my legs and feet, and today he remembered to put the things back into the drawer and to close it. I’m glad about that because I shall rapidly lose patience if he doesn’t tidy up after himself. It’s bad enough that I don’t.

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

Today, we’re reviewing the position in the Ionian Islands. At the moment, the Venetians are clinging on to a precarious foothold as the Ottomans slowly surround them and hem them in. We’ve already had a few important raids, and I suspect that there are many more to come.

Back in here, I had a few things to do, and then I turned my attention to the radio programme that I started yesterday. All of the music is now paired and segued, and quite a lot of the notes have been written. I can finish this off tomorrow morning, provided that my visitor doesn’t come too early.

My faithful cleaner turned up to apply my anaesthetic, and then I had to wait for my taxi to arrive.

And I was in luck. It was my favourite taxi driver and we had a lovely chat all the way down the coast to Carolles to pick up someone else and then another drive down the coast to Avranches.

Once again, I was early. It was 13:40 when I arrived, but it made no difference because I wasn’t connected up until 14:50. And then, they set the dry weight to what it had been two weeks ago and so there was almost nothing to take out. And they forgot the booster for the blood pressure. I don’t know what’s the matter with them these days.

But once I was connected, they left me pretty much alone. Even Emilie the Cute Consultant, who was the duty doctor today, kept to the far end of the room, well away from my clutches.

At least they didn’t hang around too long to unplug me, but it was still 18:50 when I climbed into the taxi to come home.

When I arrived here, I had to be dropped off at the rear of the building as there was a howling gale blowing up outside. My faithful cleaner helped me in, and believe me, I was glad to be home.

Tea tonight was a vegan burger with pasta and ratatouille, which I didn’t enjoy as much as I thought it might. The birthday cake and home-made ice cream were nice, though, but tomorrow will see the last slice of that disappear.

And right now, I’m going to disappear too because I’m off to bed. And to sleep, if the stabbing pain all down my foot will let me. Right now, it’s the worst that I’ve ever known.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my strange dream … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of an old Tommy Cooper story.
"I once knew a man who dreamed that he was awake" he said.
"And what happened?" asked someone in the audience
"Well, when he woke up, he was!"

Sunday 1st March 2026 – DYDD GWYL DEWI …

… hapus iawn, pawb!

Did you all enjoy your leek soup? And did you arrange your daffodils neatly in your living room? And did you give your pet dragon a little treat? As long as you did all of that, you aren’t likely to receive a visit from an angry druid today.

As for me, I’m afraid that I didn’t. Sunday here is pizza day, and as well as that, I can’t go out hunting for daffodils, although Rosemary did send me some virtual daffodils via an internet chat program.

Instead, I’ve had something of a lazy day, and you’ll be surprised at just how productive I have been, because I know that I am.

Last night wasn’t as I had planned it either. It ended up being horribly late, just after midnight, when I stopped letting it all hang out and went to bed instead. And instead of the decent sleep and long lie-in that I wanted, it was one of those mobile nights where I was tossing and turning, half awake and half asleep, without actually going into a really deep sleep.

When the nurse put in an appearance, I was actually awake, and so I pretended to be asleep so that I didn’t have to leave my comfortable bed. He sorted out my legs and feet and then disappeared. I curled up under the bedclothes and tried my best to go to sleep, but with no luck at all.

Eventually, round about 09:15, I gave it up as a bad job and arose from the Dead. I gathered up my clothes from the chair and, throwing my slippers in the general direction of the bathroom, I scored a beautiful hole in one, right into the toilet bowl. What a way to start the day!

In the kitchen, I forgot my medication, but I had a lovely breakfast of porridge, hot coffee and two of my homemade croissants. That’s a really nice way to start the day, especially when you take your time and don’t go into your office to start work until 10:45. I wish that every day could be like this.

What took me so long was that I was engrossed in my new book, ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A. Miller.

Today, we’re discussing the complicated relationship between Thebes, Athens and Sparta, a relationship that sporadically erupted into warfare, with any two pitted against the third. It’s helping me brush up on my classics from when I studied Latin at grammar school, and it’s amazing just how much of the old classical stories have been proved by modern archaeology to be true.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what had happened during the night.

I was living in some kind of communal living thing. There were lots of different people there doing lots of different things. There should have been a meeting late one night before going to bed, but it turned out that the guy on whose behalf the meeting was being held had simply gone ahead and applied the texture mix to his skin, which meant that he’d be busy recovering or whatever, changing or something, and so the meeting was cancelled. That was extremely disappointing, so I gathered up a couple of things from the radio, some old English-language programmes that I’d done years ago and went to see the girl in the next room who worked for the local radio. She thanked me for coming but said that they were doing things in a different way these days and didn’t need the programmes that I had. However, there would be plenty of opportunity to do stuff in the future. She was thinking of having some kind of doll or something and she would want me to write the speech for it. I took my things to go back to my room, but on the way back, I heard that there had been some kind of announcement that Jim Dale, one of the CARRY ON stars, had been seen hiding in a tree near the old airfield up near Wardle – it was described as “Stoke Bank” in this news report. He’d been repeating one of his “Carry On” speeches from out of this tree and it had made the local news in all the papers.

Whatever the significance of the first part of this dream might be, I have no idea. As for the second part, I have a whole stock of English language radio programmes that Liz and I prepared when we were running “Radio Anglais”, programmes that were broadcast on French local radio. A short while ago, a radio station in Nantwich was calling for radio presenters and programmes, so I sent them one or two as tasters, to see whether they might be interested in a programme from me every now and again. It goes without saying that they never replied.

There is a “Stoke Bank” along the A51 a couple of miles from the old Wardle Airfield, which was my home … "the airfield, not Stoke Bank#34; – ed … for a short while when I was a baby. But there aren’t any trees there in which Jim Dale could loiter, whether or not he might be repeating a “Carry On” speech.

And I did once live in some kind of commune. But not for long, though. Firstly, I’m not a sociable animal, and secondly, most people in that place preferred to live off the backs of other, hard-working people. In the end, I preferred to live in my van.

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

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

There had been a couple of girls who had come over for an environmental conference. I’d been chatting to one and I was getting on extremely well with her. For some reason, my brother ended up with their contact details, but I didn’t. On the Sunday, we had various things to do, like we had to pack our place up as we were moving house that weekend. We were busy organising everything, and there was this beautiful cupboard that I’d had my eye on for ages with several drawers in it. It just looked like a huge bass speaker. The price on it was something like £275.00, which I thought was too much. Someone whom we knew came along and asked about it. The woman said “if you take it now, you can have it for £180.00. He paid her cash on the spot, and I felt really annoyed because I would have had it for £180.00 any day of the week. I told her to wait a minute because it had some of my paperwork in it. I had to go through and find somewhere to put this paperwork. I asked someone if they had a sack, and my mother made some kind of comment about that, but I wasn’t in the mood to joke. In the end, someone found a large paper sack and I began to put my things into it. One thing that I’d noticed was that a plot of land on which I’d had my eye too, which was formerly a garage in Audlem, had come back onto the market. The announcement from the paper was that there was a confusion about the closing date of the auction. Of course, I was far too busy to concentrate on this and we were still putting away our things. I came across a press cutting that showed that this conference to which we’d been was going on today, and there was a chance to meet all the contributors. That really annoyed me because I could have gone along and seen that girl again. Then my brother came up with some kind of story about how his car, with a trailer on it, had an electrical fault and he’d had to manually flash the rear lights to make some kind of brake lights every time he stopped. I was still in no mood for any kind of joke

This is quite a regular theme, isn’t it? Here I am, just about to Get The Girl, and a member of my family comes along and throws a spanner into the works.

The chest of drawers sounds interesting, and had I been healthy, I would have gone all-out to make one. And moving house, cars with electrical faults and looking for plots of land were habitual themes in real life back in the day.

There was also something about a Grand Prix around by Monte Carlo, the Monaco Grand Prix, twisting and turning through the streets with all of these cars taking part. We were watching it from a distance, and suddenly, after about half of the cars had gone past, there was complete silence and nothing. Then, all of the Grand Prix drivers who hadn’t gone through in their cars, they came through, and they were running. Apparently, there had been a major accident somewhere and they couldn’t proceed any further with their cars – this major accident behind the leading group so they couldn’t proceed with their cars, so they were going to run the rest of the course.

Before I went to bed last night, I was reading a news article about Cadillac’s entry into the Formula One circuit, but that their engine is not considered to be as reliable as it needs to be. Running the course on foot would be a novel way to proceed, though.

There was some kind of dream going on about a football competition. One of the teams had been relegated. There was something about a particular match and it involved my vegan ice cream somewhere, but I really can’t remember any more about it because I awoke as it was under way and it all evaporated … "the dream, not the ice cream" – ed …

Llanelli has just been relegated from the JD Cymru League, and lest night, we were watching the Welsh League Cup Final, complete with its very emotional ending, followed by vegan ice cream for dessert.

Seeing as we have been talking about the Welsh League Cup Final … "well, one of us has" – ed … this is the LINK TO THE HIGHLIGHTS. This is the LINK TO THE FULL MATCH. If you have the time, it’s well-worth it from a footballing point of view. The highlights don’t really show anything like a fair representative proportion of the game.

When I’d finished the dictaphone notes, there was yet more football. Morton were comfortably beaten by Airdrie after going down to nine men, and then Stranraer’s long unbeaten run came to an end as they were beaten at home by Elgin City.

After a disgusting drink break, with some of the medication that I’d forgotten, I had a pile of *.html coding to edit.

First thing though was to upload my graphics program onto this laptop. That’s easier said than done because there is no DVD drive on it. I had to rummage around deep in the bowels of the box where all of the redundant hard drives are hiding, and there it was, right at the bottom. And to my surprise, the USB cable and power pack were with it. Usually, knowing me, I would have expected them to have been scattered to the four winds a long time ago.

The next step was to open the drive. With not having been opened for years, the springs had seized. Luckily, there’s an escape hole, and a straightened paper clip fitted in quite nicely to lever down the internal catch.

Having uploaded the program, I could then go ahead and prepare some graphic images. And then I had to hunt down a few web links to tie to the images, and that wasn’t as easy as it might have been.

The next task was to edit the *.html coding to include the images and their links, and I was dismayed at how much *.html coding I’ve forgotten. Turn the clock back thirty years, and I was writing web pages by hand in “Notetab” and even teaching basic web design to a couple of interested people, but I couldn’t do it now.

There was an hour to spare, so I made a start on the Welsh homework. I’ve done about two-thirds of it, and as it doesn’t have to be done for two weeks, I’m glad that I’m well in advance because I can have a relax at some point.

At 16:30 I knocked off to go a-baking. A loaf of bread and a vegan pizza were today’s output. The bread rose like a lift and looks excellent, and the pizza was absolutely delicious, with half left over for tomorrow.

But right now, I’m off to bed, ready for dialysis tomorrow … "I don’t think" – ed … and to reflect on what a busy day I’ve had, considering that Sunday is supposed to be a Day of Rest.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about The Monaco Grand Prix … "well, one of us has" – ed … Percy Penguin once told me that she’d like to go there to watch the Formula One race.
However, I told her "we don’t have the money to go to watch the Formula One race in Monaco. And in any case, it’s pronounced Gron’ Pree."

Saturday 28th February 2026 – I HAVE JUST …

… watched one of the best football matches that I have ever seen.

Of course, watching a good match is always quite enjoyable, but when it involves TNS not only being beaten but also royally stuffed by a real Welsh football team, and in a Cup Final too, that really is the icing on the cake.

It’s a match to which I’ve been looking forward all weekend, and so last night, I decided to have an early night so that I would really be in the best of form to watch it.

Of course, what I decide to do and what actually happens are not the same thing, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall. And so none of my faithful readers will be in the least surprised to hear that it was 23:50 when I finally made it into bed.

Yes, it was that late. I really don’t know where the time goes these days. No matter what I try to do, it’s very rare that I can beat my curfew time of 22:30.

Once in bed, though, I was asleep quite quickly, and that’s the last thing that I remember until the alarm went off at 06:29. It was another night when I don’t believe that I moved a muscle at all.

As seems to be the case these days, I struggled to make it into the bathroom, but I finally managed it and had a good wash, a change of clothes and a handwashing session. I need to keep on top of my socks and undies, otherwise I’ll run out of stock.

In the kitchen, I made my hot drink and took my medication, including the Vitamin B12 and Vitamin D supplements that the people at dialysis are insisting that I take. It’s only once a month, and I usually always forget to take them.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what was going on during the night.

One of my neighbours had a car parked on their property for a couple of months and I had my eye on it. Then, they announced that they were selling it but the price that they wanted for it was way out of my pocket and way out of what I thought it was worth, so I was rather disappointed with them about this. But we ended up walking into Crewe, walking down Delamere Street towards the post office one early Saturday morning. I had a letter to write and I needed a stamped envelope, so I thought that I’d go into the post office to buy one, but I suspected that if the post office were open at this time, there would be quite a queue inside. So we went and opened the door, and there was really a queue, quite a long one in there in fact, and they were all at one counter because there was just one counter open. Someone was arguing with someone about small change, saying that they’d had to go all the way to Chester this morning to fetch some small change, so they are rather careful about how they give it out. Eventually, the queue divided into two as another window opened. There was a young girl who went up to the window and handed over a ring. She asked if she could change this engagement ring for a single person’s ring. A couple of people felt sorry for her, but I seemed to remember that this girl had been engaged three or four times before, but it had all broken off, so I wondered what was happening now with this latest one. Then she explained that she’d like to have the money back, and have it back quickly, because everyone will remember what happened when she used a cheque last time she had to buy something. I for one didn’t know what she meant, but I imagined that one or two other people in this queue must have known or something like that.

In the past, I would always have been interested in cars parked up for ages in neighbours’ gardens, but these days, there’s not a car being made anywhere in the World that is of any interest to me.

The story about the Post Office is perfectly true, though. Go in there at any normally busy time, and there would only be one window open of the five or six available. And I know who the girl was too. She was a colleague of Nerina’s when Nerina worked at Crewe before she moved to Stockport, who was also in the same school year as my brother.

Interestingly, going to Chester for small change was an interesting point. When I had my taxis, we had the contract for the local McDonald’s. They could only ever use approved products supplied by the franchise and never buy anything in a local shop. There are several occasions when we had to run to the Wrexham outlet for a bag of lettuce or to the Chester one for some cartons of milk, that kind of thing. I remember once, the Saturday before Christmas, having to go to Wrexham for lettuce, taking Nerina with me, dropping her off at a supermarket there to do our Christmas shopping while I went to pick up the lettuce.

That was the kind of pressure under which we were living. We never had five minutes to ourselves to relax. No wonder our marriage didn’t last.

The nurse turned up as usual to sort out my feet and legs, and we had a chat about Welsh football. I’m not quite sure why because it’s a very specialised subject.

After he left, I made breakfast and began my new book, ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A. Miller, having finished the previous one about plants at Calleva Atrebates.

This book goes back to 1921 and refers to the history of Greece under the Roman and then the Byzantine Empire, something about which I really ought to know much more.

Everyone knows about the “Franks” — the crusaders who passed through there on their way to the Holy Land and who seemed to spend more time fighting the Byzantines as they crossed that empire than they ever did fighting the Saracens to free the Holy Land — but that’s about the extent of my knowledge. I really ought to be doing better than that.

Back in here, I had something of a footfest with the highlights of last night’s matches in Wales. They were quite entertaining, but there was nothing remarkable about any of them.

In fact, it was quite a leisurely late morning, with the monotony being broken by a series of ‘phone calls about a missing letter. I posted it (or, rather, my faithful cleaner did) on the 12th February, but it’s still not been received and the action to which it refers took place today. I had to find a copy of the letter and e-mail it.

This afternoon, after my disgusting drink break, I attacked yet another pile of radio notes, as I said yesterday that I would. And now they are edited and the two halves of the programme have been prepared. The joining track has been chosen and remixed etc, and the notes are written ready for typing. This means that I can have a complete day off tomorrow. Won’t that be nice?

Round about 17:30, I went and prepared tea because there won’t be much time later. We had the football match to watch instead.

It was the League Cup Final with TNS, odds-on favourites to win (as usual), against rank outsiders Y Barri.

Usually, games involving TNS, the only full-time club in the league with a squad that cost a fortune, involve a backs-to-the-wall approach with the opposition penned back in their own penalty area with piles of desperate defending. However, I’ve noticed a weakness in TNS’s defence, and that is that they are very susceptible to the ball “over the top” with a quick forward rushing onto the ball. And Y Barri have the two quickest forwards in the league in Ieuan Owen and Ollie Hulbert

Y Barri took the game to TNS right from the start and actually had TNS pinned in their own penalty area for long periods of the game. And when the TNS goalkeeper couldn’t hang on to the ball from a cross into the penalty area, Ieuan Owen was the first to reach the loose ball, and that was Y Barri 1-0 up.

As the second half wore on, you could see that Y Barri were tiring rapidly, and it was a question of whether they could hang on. But as we entered injury time, we had Ieuan Owen reacting first to a loose ball about twenty-five yards out of the TNS goal, and what followed was the best goal that you are ever likely to see at this level of football. HOW ABOUT THIS?

That wasn’t all the excitement either. The match finished in a good old-fashioned brawl involving just about every one of the twenty-two players, all of the staff and all of the substitutes on the bench.

After that, I went and had the tea that I’d prepared – baked potato, vegan salad and one of those breadcrumbed quorn fillets that I like, followed by ginger cake and home-made ice cream

Now though, I’m off to bed, hoping for a good lie-in tomorrow. I certainly deserve it, but we shall have to see about that.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my new book … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends asked me what book I was reading at the moment.
"It’s called ‘Essays on the Latin Orient’" I replied.
"Oh yes" she said. "Weren’t they promoted to League One a couple of seasons ago?"

Wednesday 25th February 2026 – I DON’T KNOW …

… what’s the matter with me today. This afternoon, I seem to have gone from feeling energetic, dynamic and focused to being flat-out, exhausted and overtired in my office chair, all in one swell foop.

It might actually be something to do with last night. What with one thing and another … "and until you make a start, you have no idea just how many other things there are" – ed … it ended up being a night rather later than most just recently. It wasn’t until almost midnight that I finished everything and crawled into bed.

Once again, it was another one of those really deep sleeps, and I was shaken to the foundations when the alarm went off at 06:29. I just about managed to beat the second alarm by having my feet on the floor and the covers off when it went off. However, as the Duke of Wellington said after the Battle of Waterloo, it was "the nearest run thing you ever saw in your life"

In the bathroom I managed to have a good wash, and then I went into the kitchen for my hot drink and medication.

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

A friend of mine was talking to someone on the telephone. I recognised the voice, and it was Percy Penguin. They were chatting away and were talking about fuel. She was going on about how she filled up her car maybe once every eight days, or something like that. I took the ‘phone and said “hello” and asked “do you have a car?”. She replied “yes, a Nissan Micra”. I asked her when she had passed her test, and she replied “in July”. I told her that it was wonderful and when I would be next in the UK, because I would be going home very shortly, she could come down to wherever I was staying after she’d finished work one day. But for some reason, that seemed to offend her. My friend took back the ‘phone and talked to her for a few minutes and then hung up. He told me that Percy Penguin was offended by that comment, and I replied that I couldn’t understand how, but what I would do is to write to her. He told me that maybe she wouldn’t like the idea of me writing to her, but I replied that it’s the best thing that I can do, isn’t it, to write to her, to have a chat and to see what was happening and why she wasn’t so happy?

How long is it since Percy Penguin last showed her face in one of my dreams? She certainly deserves to appear more often than she does. But you won’t ever catch her driving a car. She had absolutely no interest, all the way throughout the twenty years that I knew her, and that’s not likely to have changed.

She wasn’t easily upset either, although she could be a little sulky at times.

Then it was work’s summer holiday break for me, and over the past few evenings they’d been having matches between the various departments of the factory. I was doing the radio introduction for one match, introducing the teams and explaining who they were and what the current score was because we’d arrived late to record it. Suddenly, we heard the ‘phone go behind us, and it was someone ringing up a professional football club. They asked the secretary if they could identify a certain player. It was a footballer with a broken leg from a few months ago who was still out injured. Eventually, they put someone on the ‘phone and a little boy took the ‘phone. He said “dad, I’ve broken my leg in a football match”. The father was extremely shocked and could only encourage his boy, because he wasn’t able to be there right at that particular moment but he’d be there as soon as he possibly could. His son was to lie there and take it easy and not move. So when we took the ‘phone back off the boy, we spoke to the dad and said how impressed we were with his footballing, but we didn’t think that his dad needed to come down to check on him and watch him play football because he could realise just how good he was himself.

The local Rolls-Royce factory in Crewe, back in its heyday in the 1970s, used to have these inter-departmental football matches. However, massive redundancies in the early 1980s put an end to all of that, and it was never the same again.

As for the broken leg, I was at a football match at Alsager Town in the 1970s when a player broke his leg, and they used my heavy overcoat to cover him while they waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Someone was running one of these “lifestyle” courses about how to improve your life. They were discussing many aspects of this. One of the things that I do remember is about French actresses who were ordinary people who figured on a lot of escape literature, etc. during World War II who all became famous film stars because they seized the most of their opportunity. He was working his way through dozens of examples like that. And as he came to “storage”, he began by saying “if you can store it, you can keep it.” I began to open a few of my boxes from a furniture removal and saw loads of stuff in there. I began to think to myself “why on earth am I keeping this? Why am I keeping that?”.

This is the story of my life. I have too much rubbish accumulated just about everywhere, and I really ought to have a good sort-out of everything that I have. However, I expect that this will be a job for my heirs, who won’t be as emotionally attached to my possessions as I am.

The nurse turned up after his week in London, and while he was attending to me, he gave me an account of his visit.

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

We are now beginning to read his conclusions from the excavations. And the first thing that he notes is that "there was a significant change in the vessel type and fabric between phase 6F and 6G. The build-up of a substantial layer of soil between these phases suggests that there was a long period, where there was no in situ occupation"

This suggests that a new group of people from a different culture arrived to occupy the fort, having found it abandoned. These phases seem to be round about the end of the final century BC and the beginning of the first century AD, round about the period of the Belgic invasion, maybe.

His phase 6G is also the period when most of the piles of slingshots seemed to be assembled. Could this be the new arrivals having to defend themselves against further attack? This would seem to be about the time of the coming of the Romans.

Following that, phase 6H, presumably the après-guerre period, seems to show the most domesticated activity. This seems to suggest that if there had been warfare at the end of phase 6G, one side had a decisive victory. Could this relate to the crushing blow that the Roman forces gave to the local inhabitants?

However, about my theory about control of the iron manufacturing, he tells us that "there is little evidence to suggest that hillforts were high-status areas. ". Of course, “absence of evidence” is not the same as “evidence of absence” and such events as looting by victors of anything worth taking away are always a possibility.

Back in here, there were things to do. And in answer to several e-mails that I was sent, I managed to avoid being arrested on my birthday, unlike certain well-known people. And I received no birthday presents. After all, what exactly do I need that I don’t already have?

Having done what needed to be done, I attacked the radio programme that I’d started for fifteen minutes yesterday. And in some kind of Herculean effort, all of the music has been sorted out and dealt with, and I’ve written all of the notes ready for dictation too.

And then I began to edit the notes that I’d dictated a while back for another programme. That’s now all complete, and the two halves have been assembled. The joining track has been chosen and remixed, and the notes written ready for dictation.

This was the difficult bit because I kept on falling asleep while doing it and it took an age, all told. There was an interruption too that awoke me from a doze – a neighbour came by to see how I was and to inspect the apartment as he hadn’t yet seen it. He was well impressed with everything.

By the time that I’d finally finished everything after dozing off all those times, it was teatime, but I wasn’t hungry. I couldn’t however resist another helping of my gorgeous fiery ginger cake, this time with vegan ice cream.

So now, I’m off to bed, ready for dialysis tomorrow … "I don’t think" – ed …

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my lack of presents for my birthday … "well, one of us has" – ed … I was once at one of these super-motivational evenings with one of these highly energetic speakers.
He was actually talking about buying presents for the wealthy and as a question, asked "and what do you give the man who has everything?"
And a small voice piped up from the back "penicillin?"

Thursday 19th February 2026 – HAVING JUST FALLEN …

… asleep while … errr … riding the porcelain horse after tea, it remains to be seen how much of these notes I actually finish before I crash out on the bed.

But anyway, we may as well make a start and see how we go.

But seeing as we have been talking about making a start … "well, one of us has" – ed … making a finish last night wasn’t very good. I’ve no idea what happened, but things seemed to drag and drag, and it was practically 00:00 to all intents and purposes when I finally went to bed. That kind of thing is no good at all.

And once in bed, it took a while to go off to sleep, but eventually I was deep in the Land of Nod and there I stayed until all of … errr … 06:15.

Funnily enough, I awoke with the feeling that the alarm had gone off, and I was almost ready to leave the bed. Of course it hadn’t, but it took me a good minute or two to realise it.

When it finally did go off, I threw back the bedcovers immediately, but that, of course, is not the same as saying that I left the bed. In fact, what with one thing and another … "and until you make a start, you have no idea just how many other things there are" – ed … I was actually later than usual going for my morning scrub.

And I forgot to have a shave too, as I realised later. No wonder Emilie the Cute Consultant doesn’t love me any more.

In the kitchen, I made my hot drink and took my medication, and then came back in here to find out where I’d been during the night.

And to my dismay, I found that I hadn’t been anywhere at all. That was extremely disappointing because, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … going off on my little voyages during the night is about the only excitement that I have these days.

Still, there were plenty of other things to do to keep me out of mischief until Isabelle the Nurse arrived.

She was late this morning too. Apparently, an earlier patient had required a lot of attention, so she had to stay with him for a while. She couldn’t hang around here either, and was soon back out on her travels around the rest of her circuit.

That meant that I could push on with making breakfast and reading some more of MAIDEN CASTLE EXCAVATIONS AND FIELD SURVEY 1985-6 by Niall Sharples.

Today, we’re discussing bones. And interestingly, some skulls that Wheeler and his team had identified as being from domestic cattle have been identified by Sharples and his team as skulls of the aurochs, a kind of wild cow that became extinct in the UK round about 1200 BC.

Another matter of note is that they observe that the bones of dogs seem to have been butchered and defleshed, as if dog was part of the diet during the Iron Age.

It’s interesting to note that several bones of the more traditional animals, particularly sheep, suggest that malnutrition was present amongst them at this time. So maybe, despite what I was saying yesterday about farming, there was some kind of dietary crisis at some point that led to people eating their dogs.

Back in here, I caught up with my Welsh revision and then turned my attention to the next radio programme. All of the music has now been selected, reformatted, remixed and re-edited, and some of it has been paired and segued. I’ll finish the rest tomorrow morning and then write the notes.

My cleaner turned up as usual to help me with the anaesthetic, and while she was at it, she went through the medication. I’m running low and it’s the time that I need to stock up on supplies. We made a list of what’s needed and she told me that she’d sally forth this afternoon to the chemist’s to fetch the supplies.

Once she’d gone, I had to wait for the taxi to arrive. It was late today, after being so early on Monday, and what with closed roads, flooding everywhere and so on, we didn’t make up any time at all, and I was quite late arriving at dialysis.

Today, we were given a lecture by someone about our bodies in relation to the dialysis procedure, what’s not working, what the machine does, what we must do and what we mustn’t do, all that kind of thing

Not that I really wanted to know, and as if I didn’t have anything better to do with my time, but when someone is standing in the middle of the room speaking, it’s very hard not to listen.

But meanwhile, in other news, they tell me that I’m changing rooms as of Monday and going into one of the big rooms. Apparently, there are too many of us who need too much attention in the small room, where there is only one nurse on duty.

What with starting late, I ended up finishing late. And then we had to drop someone else off in Avranches before I could go home. But at least I was able to see the devastation cause by all of the flooding at Avranches where the river at the foot of the town has burst its banks and flooded everywhere

It’s quite tragic, all of this. There are houses under water just down the road from the dialysis centre, and the little shopping centre by the railway station is also submerged. The shopkeepers can’t open the doors of the shops, with all of the weight against them.

And the rain is predicted to fall, and fall, and fall. It’s a really good job that the tides aren’t all that high at the moment; otherwise there would be many more problems. Luckily, we are perched on top of a cliff well above sea level here, so if we are flooded, then the World has a really serious problem.

The wind back here as I arrived was such that, like earlier when I was leaving, I had to be dropped off at the back of the building. There’s an alley reserved for fire engines and the rescue service right behind the building, so the taxi drivers can reverse down it and drop me off right outside the fire escape at the back.

My cleaner helped me into the apartment and then after she left, I made tea. I had a hankering for cauliflower cheese, I don’t know why, so I made vegetables (including cauliflower) in a vegan cheese sauce and had a couple of small vegan sausages. It was delicious.

So having made it all the way down to the end of my notes, I’m off to bed ready for a hard day’s work tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the chemist’s … "well, one of us has" – ed … my cleaner came back with most of the supplies, and she’ll bring the rest when she comes on Friday afternoon.
She told me, though, that there had been a man in the chemist’s when she was there.
He asked the assistant "Do you have any painkillers? I have this really dreadful pain"
"Certainly, sir" replied the chemist. "Whereabouts is it?"
"How on earth would I know?" asked the man. "It’s your chemist’s, not mine."

Monday 2nd February 2026 – IT’S BEEN ANOTHER …

… tough afternoon today, and being at dialysis hasn’t helped one little bit.

What also probably didn’t help was that, once again, I remained stuck to my chair last night for ages and couldn’t sort myself out and go to bed. As a result, it was yet another late night, long after 23:30, and being as tired as I am right now, it’s all becoming far too complicated for me.

Once in bed, though, I was asleep quite quickly, and I remember nothing whatever until the alarm went off at 06:29 as usual.

It took an age to sort myself out and head to the bathroom but after a good wash and shave, I could head into the kitchen for the hot drink and medication, including the last of this course of five days of antibiotics.

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

I was driving my taxi last night. I’d just started to be self-employed so I was looking for as much work as possible to set myself off. A message came through on the radio to tell me that there were two people to pick up in Crewe to take somewhere at 06:30. But the following morning was a Sunday, so would I be able to do it? Even though I wasn’t particularly keen, the idea that there was a job like that to do made me feel that I would be able to do it. While I was speaking on the radio, a car pulled up alongside. It was the postwoman and she gave me a parcel. I hadn’t been expecting a parcel but I took it anyway. What I’d been doing while I’d been waiting for things to happen was that I was trying to make some tea. I’d been washing a load of really dirty vegetables and I now had four clean carrots, so I was going to make some kind of stew. I had dirty water, vegetable peelings and diced vegetables all over the place, and someone gave me a parcel, the postwoman. I put it down on a worktop where it became all wet, and then opened it. There were four solar-powered racing cars in there, each with its own track, and it was nothing that I knew anything of. However, I remember my mother talking about something like this so I called her up on the radio and asked her. She said that it was indeed something that she had been waiting for and could I bring it round some time? I wondered when it would be best to bring it round because she usually had piles of grandchildren hanging around and I imagined that she didn’t want her grandchildren to know about this parcel arriving.

Apart from the fact that I’m back driving a taxi again, there’s quite a lot of mileage in this dream. For example, my friend in Munich and I were talking yesterday about solar power and also about curried vegetables, and in Mortimer Wheeler’s MAIDEN CASTLE, part of the preamble that I mentioned the other day was a discussion about the cursus — the weird Neolithic structures that resemble something like an ancient racecourse.

And as usual, my family puts in an appearance.

The nurse breezed in quite early today, and he was soon gone, leaving me to make my breakfast and read some more of my book.

Mortimer Wheeler is reaching an interesting stage in his opening discussion. He notes that in the beginning, there were some reasonably substantial defences around Maiden Castle, but after a period that he estimates to be about fifty years, the defences are allowed to decay, although the site is still occupied. This seems to suggest that once the inhabitants were settled in, they were living at peace.

However, all of a sudden, there’s a hasty reconstruction of the defences, as if the situation has changed and warfare has broken out somewhere in the vicinity. And from then on, the defences are improved and improved with some massive, impressive defensive walls and ditches, enough to stifle any invader’s attack. And there are whole hoards of sling-stones discovered, tens and tens of thousands, cached at important points along the defences as if the defenders were prepared for a massive siege and attack.

After breakfast, I came in here again. There were a few things to do and then I revised my Welsh, seeing as I’m going to be out early tomorrow morning.

Rosemary sent me a message or two today to ask me a couple of questions. I forgot to mention yesterday that she had also ‘phoned me for a “quick chat” which, while not one of our usual length, was only supposed to be “just a quick question”.

My cleaner turned up to sort out my anaesthetic and then I had to wait for the taxi. The driver was early today because there were two other people to pick up, one in Granville and the other one in Donville-les-Bains.

The driver dropped me off first, and for a change, I was quite early. However, it counted for nothing because with a trainee nurse and no fewer that two trainee nursing assistants, I had to wait forty minutes before I was plugged in.

It was while I was waiting that I felt my morale disintegrating. And after a couple of hours of dialysis, I had another one of these fits that I have where I cease to function and just sit there, staring into space. This time, though, I closed my eyes and hoped to doze off, but that didn’t happen.

But you can tell that things aren’t going my way. We had a “satisfaction survey” to complete and when I read mine back after I’d filled it in, I noticed that what I had written was full of doom and gloom and pessimism. Still, I suppose that this is normal these days. The spark seems to have gone out, and gone for good too.

The taxi driver was waiting for me when I finished. It was the young, chatty guy and at least, he cheers me up when he’s driving. It was pouring down with rain and blowing a gale … "yet again" – ed … so he dropped me off at the back of the building where my faithful cleaner was waiting to open the fire escape so that I could come in that way. It’s much less of a distance to walk.

After my cleaner had sorted me out, I warmed up the half-pizza that was left over from yesterday and ate that. And now, early as it may be, I’m going to bed. I’ve had enough for today.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about Rosemary … "well, one of us has" – ed … she ended our little chat by saying "you are a real treasure".
And I quite agree with her. The way that I’m feeling right now, I really ought to be buried on a desert island somewhere.

Thursday 29th January 2026 – I SHAN’T BE …

… sorry to crawl into bed tonight. I’ve no idea what’s going on but yet again, I’m thoroughly exhausted and it’s still quite early.

It might be something to do with the late night that I had last night. Having fallen asleep in the chair while I was typing out my notes, I ended up in bed round about 23:45 and that’s much later than I would have liked.

As well as that, it took a while to go off to sleep too and although I was fast asleep when the alarm went off this morning, it wasn’t actually much of a sleep.

It took an age to haul myself out of bed this morning and stagger off into the bathroom where, as well as the usual good scrub up, I had a shave in case Emilie the Cute Consultant comes to see me this afternoon.

After the medication and the hot drink, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

I was at the top of a really, really steep hill. There had been a gale warning of winds and I decided that I’d head down in my car into the valley. But I thought that I’d roll it down and see how quickly I would arrive at the bottom. While I was doing that, there was a gale warning from the UK coming through on the radio. It was calling all owners of light boats to head in to shore and to keep out of certain rivers. It was even listing the registration numbers of some. But halfway down, I saw a speedboat coming up the hill at an incredible rate of knots. I stopped to watch it, and it looked to me as if it was completely out of control. It came to a halt, and there was a guy slumped to the side of it in overalls. It looked as if his head had split open and there was blood everywhere. He was moaning. My cleaner, she asked him what was the matter and he mentioned the name of some waterfall, pointed to it in the distance and muttered something. She said to me that it sounds as if he’s had a collission with another motor boat at the waterfalls and that he’d come down. I asked her to repeat the name of the waterfall but I didn’t understand it. Anyway, I dialled 15 for the emergency ambulance. When they asked me where the incident had taken place, I asked my cleaner again to give me the name, but I still didn’t really understand it. But somewhere along the line in this dream, I’d been going through a box. There were all piles of old car radios and speakers and things in it. I managed to make two of the radios work again and when I went to pull out another one, it was actually playing all by itself. I showed it to whoever I was with – it might have been Percy Penguin – but she didn’t seem to be in the least bit interested. There was some kind of design on it as if it was the front end of a car with two pop-up headlights that were popped up, and a kind of pop-up clock on the top of the bonnet by the windscreen, but instead of facing into the windscreen, it was facing out. I was trying to identify which car this was when it drove off and disappeared round the bend.

That dream sounds as if it might have been extremely interesting. However, I’m not convinced about all of the blood that there must have been, given how I feel when someone begins to talk about blood and gore.

However, I have been on the top of this hill before during a dream, and on more than one occasion too.

As well as that, there are quite a few old car radios and speakers around in the barn on the farm. Whoever inherits or cleans out the farm after I’ve gone can make quite a few bob selling them on the retro market to owners of old, classic cars. And that’s one thing that worries me – that someone with no idea of what there is down there on the farm will just tip it all into a skip and send it down to the déchetterie, throwing away a fortune.

The nurse turned up as usual and moaned at me for wearing the same face mask for a couple of days. He thinks that I ought to wear a different one every time someone new comes to the building. That’s all very well, but just how am I supposed to be able to go out and buy a supply?

After he left, I made breakfast and read some more of A ROMAN FRONTIER POST AND ITS PEOPLE.

The book is drawing to a close now. There are just the appendices to read, the reports of the objects that he sent away for specialist examination.

His conclusion, though, is fascinating. Apart from the five or so different stages of rebuilding, he’s identified three separate phases of occupation. The first came to an end round about 90 AD or so, when there seems to have been a dramatic withdrawal to the south. The second period was round about 138-140 AD when Lollius Urbicus passed by on his way north to what became the Antonine Wall until, according to builders’ marks on some of the stones, round about 158 AD. The third period was a rather hurried reoccupation sometime later and which ended in a cataclysm round about 180 AD.

As James Curle puts it, "a tale of buildings thrown down; of altars concealed, thrown into ditches or into pits, above the bodies of unburied men ; of confusion, defeat, abandonment ; of a day in which the long column of the garrison wound slowly southward across the spurs of the Eildons, leaving their hearths deserted and their fires extinct."

But who says that archaeologists have no sense of humour? Towards the end of the book, he can’t resist a sly dig at one of his contemporaries by quoting a speech that the latter had made when discussing jewellery, clearly without thinking. "That these chains were in use among the Celtic peoples during the first two centuries before and after our era."

Back in here, there were things to do and then I attacked the radio programme on which I’d been working. It didn’t take long to finish either, and I spent the rest of the morning in the unlikely pursuit of tidying my bedroom.

My cleaner was late arriving to apply my anaesthetic, but she didn’t hang around for very long. That left me some time to make a start on tidying up the kitchen, but the early arrival of the taxi caught me in flagrante delicto, and I had to clear off.

On the way to Avranches we had to stop at Champeau to pick up someone else and even so, we arrived at dialysis earlier than usual. It goes without saying that there was an issue with one of the patients and what with a new starter nurse learning the ropes, I was no earlier being plugged in.

Once the machine was off on its travels, I was left pretty much alone. The new nurse asked me a few times if I was OK but apart from that, no-one came to see me.

And with a new starter, it took me quite a while to be disconnected while she ran through her procedures. And with havin gto drop someone off at Genets on the way back, I was late returning too.

My cleaner helped me into the apartment and after she left, I made tea. A taco roll with kidney beans accompanied by pasta and veg. And it goes without saying that a lot of it ended up in the bin. I couldn’t face it all.

Now I’m off to bed, hoping for a good sleep. I really do deserve one at some point. But having just fallen asleep for fifteen minutes, I’m really at my wits’ end about this.

But seeing as we have been talking about the new nurse at dialysis … "well, one of us has" – ed … when I arrived, she was busy chasing a patient down the corridor, brandishing a pair of scissors.
"No, no!" cried the supervisor. "I said ‘remove his spectacles’".

Wednesday 28th January 2026 – I HAVE HAD …

… one of my very rare culinary disasters this evening, and a pile of food ended up in the bin, much to my regret.

Still, as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I never make any mistakes. I simply learn a lot of lessons, and some of those lessons can be expensive.

However, it is a symbol or an emblem or something of just how my day has gone today. It’s not been very good at all.

Last night was, however, quite interesting. By the time that I’d finished my notes and done everything that needed doing, I still wasn’t at all tired. So instead of going to bed, I dictated ALL OF the radio notes that were written but outstanding.

That was one job very well done, although it will probably need a lot of editing because I can only keep on going coherently … "!!!!" – ed … for so long.

Eventually, I did manage to make it into bed, something like round about 01:00, and I did actually manage to fall asleep.

When the alarm went off at 06:29, I was still asleep, and it really was a battle to leave the bed. In fact, I was in two minds whether to reset the alarm for 08:00 and go back to sleep, but that’s not getting the baby bathed, is it?

Eventually, rather later than usual, I staggered into the bathroom to sort myself out and then went for my hot drink and medication. And Bane of Britain strikes again! The antibiotics that Emilie the Cute Consultant has prescribed for me and for which I’ve been waiting for so long are exactly the same as she prescribed for me last time and I had half a box left from then.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what went on during the night.

I’d been let out of hospital and ended up in Rope Lane opposite The Vine or a little further into Shavington from there. I was sitting down, working on the computer, doing things. It was taking me ages, but I was enjoying it, so I carried on. When I’d finished, I suddenly thought to myself “why is it that I have so much trouble standing up from some places, yet when I’m sitting at the edge of a pavement, I can stand up comparatively easily?” So I tried it again because I had to move – I’d finished what I was doing. I found that although it was very ungainly and very unsteady, I could actually rise to my feet and use my crutches to hold myself. I thought that this was totally strange because a pavement is only three or four inches high, and I can’t rise up off a chair that’s, I dunno, twenty inches high. I was staggering around on my feet with my crutches, trying to find my equilibrium, when a huge lorry, a tanker, roared past me while I was in the middle of the road. I had no idea that he was coming until I heard his engine noise a second or two before. It was dark and he had absolutely no lights on, so I certainly wouldn’t have been able to see him. I set off to walk, leaving my things behind, into the centre of Shavington because there was something that I had to do. There were all these people, standing by their gates in the dark like ghosts. It turned out that there had been a general order to release everyone from hospital, so they were all waiting for their family members to arrive. But it was extremely eerie, the way that they were standing there like that. I must have done what I intended to do because I found myself back at a pub somewhere. This is where I was living for the moment. I remember thinking that the first thing that I need to do is to buy some credits, although I didn’t say what credits they would be. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have a place here because it was most convenient for me for this and for that. As I went in, I couldn’t decide whether I had all of my things with me or not, whether I’d gone back to where I’d left them to pick them up or not. I just simply couldn’t remember.

If only I could stand up straight from sitting down at the kerb. These days, I have to be almost vertical before I can stand up at all.

But this dream looks as if it carried on from the previous night, with me leaving my things behind as I went off to do something else. And another anxiety attack at the end to round it off.

Being in Shavington is a common theme these days, but the wraith-like people waiting at their gates is something different. It really was eerie.

The nurse turned up as usual to sort me out. Today, he behaved himself, which suited me much better. He also didn’t stay long, which suited me even more. I could make breakfast and read some more of A ROMAN FRONTIER POST AND ITS PEOPLE.

James Curle is today talking about ornaments and jewellery. Not that it holds much interest for me, but I waded on just the same. It’s interesting though, to note that he refers Celtic art to Roman Art in this respect

Back in here, there were things to do, which unfortunately didn’t include watching last night’s game between Stranraer and Clyde because it had been postponed. It did, however, involve telephoning the taxi company about a trip out on Tuesday next week. Two, in fact, but they knew all about one of them already.

Once I was up-to-date, I attacked the next radio programme. I managed, not without a great deal of difficulty, to find all of the music that I wanted. It’s now all reformatted, remixed, edited, paired and segued, and most of the notes have been written.

In fact, I could easily have finished it all, but there were several interruptions.

My faithful cleaner came in twice. Firstly, to bring in the next month’s supply of disgusting drinks, and secondly, for me to try on a new pair of slippers, as the pair that I’m wearing is falling apart. The slippers that she brought are, regrettably, too small, so I shall have to persevere with those that I have for now.

She did, however, bring me the post, which included a letter from the Province of New Brunswick in Canada.

Every year, there’s a Government exercise that makes an official revaluation of property in Canada. Generally speaking, it’s usually in the region of a handful of per cent, but in 2025, the increase has been a whopping, massive TWENTY-FIVE PER CENT.

Over the last year, property prices in Canada, especially those close to the border… "and there’s nowhere closer to the border than your place" – ed …, have gone through the roof as millions of Americans are fleeing across the border into Canada, seeking asylum.

And that reminds me – any of my friends living in Great Satan who wish to flee north of the border are more than welcome to install themselves in my place while they sort themselves out.

A third interruption was much more disappointing. Once more, I crashed out without realising that I’d gone, and I remember nothing whatever. And by the time that I awoke, I’d been out for over an hour.

It looks as if I’m heading back to the old, dark days before dialysis, something that I was promised would be solved by having dialysis. That was wishful thinking.

But while I was asleep, I’d been on my travels again.

This afternoon, I was in charge of some kind of hostel somewhere. There were all kinds of different people in there. While I was doing some work in my room, I heard someone shout at the top of their voice to someone else that he was “nothing but a dead-beat rock star”. I knew who the victim of that shout was but I went to find out who it was who had shouted it. In the end, someone gave me a name and I knew who her friends were, so I went to track them down and asked them if “such and such a person” was there. They said that she wasn’t so I told her that I had heard a comment that had been made, and as soon as that girl appeared, they were to present her to me. On the way back, I saw the victim come in. He was with a group of other people. As he approached his room and the other people left, I asked him if he could spare a minute. I went into his room with him and he had some kind of minder with him. I told him that I’d heard this outrageous remark and I was ashamed of it. I wanted to apologise on behalf of whatever the institution was, and that I’d taken steps to identify and speak to the culprit concerned. At that point, he broke down in tears and told me that he’d had a really bad time, and that there was only one album, an album called THE CUTTER AND THE CLAN by Clannad that had actually saved him from something serious. I replied that I understood exactly how he felt because there were several albums that did exactly the same thing for me. But it really was an appalling comment to make and I really was offended and quite angry by it.

“The Cutter and The Clan” is actually by Runrig, not Clannad. But in a dream, it can be by anyone at all and it makes no difference.

There are actually several albums that can change my mood in the drop of a hat. But usually they plunge me into a deep depression. It’s a very rare album that can lift me out.

And as if I’m ever likely to be in charge of anything …

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

And then we had our culinary disaster.

A few weeks ago, I’d read about making spring rolls, so I’d bought all of the ingredients, even down to the brick pastry.

The filling of beansprouts, macedoine veg, onions, mushrooms and chickpeas with ginger, garlic and soy sauce was straightforward, but when it came to rolling it up in the pastry, the pastry just fell apart. It wouldn’t seal either, so the filling began to fall out after a couple of minutes.

It was such a disaster that in the end, most of it ended in the bin, and I made do with rice, veg and a ladleful of the mix. It was nice, even if it did give me severe indigestion.

But now, having already fallen asleep typing my notes, I’m off to bed, later than usual, of course, ready for dialysis … "I don’t think" – ed … tomorrow.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about culinary disasters … "well, one of us has" – ed … I was telling a friend about my very first culinary disaster years ago.
"I started off with a pan of boiling water and a load of diced vegetables.
I put the vegetables into the water and then threw in a hyena.
That was followed by an OXO cube, and finally, I jumped into the pot."
"How did it go?" she asked
"Not very well" I replied. "In fact, everyone said that I had made a laughing stock of myself."

Thursday 8th January 2026 – WE HAVE ALL BEEN …

… bombarded with alerts and warnings from just about everyone, from the French National Government down to the corner shop, about the storm that is heading our way. And the siren … bombarded with alerts and warnings from just about everyone, from the French National Government down to the corner shop, about the storm that is heading our way. And the siren sound that the Government and Préfecture use on your mobile ‘phone to alert you will do much more than John Peel’s “View Hullo!” ever did to awaken the dead and the fox from his lair in the morning.

But anyway, more of that anon.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … err … apartment, it was another late night for no particular reason. Everything seemed to drag on and on and to complete some of the tasks, this steam-driven computer is simply not rapid enough. For example, I’m having to type my notes into a text file and then upload it via “cut and paste” because it’s quicker than watching the cursor crawl along as I type into the interface.

So it was 00:10 when I finally made it into bed last night, and I can’t say that I’m sorry. And although I awoke once or twice during the night, I was flat-out asleep when the alarm went off at 06:29.

As seems to be usual these days, it took a while to pluck up the courage to leave the bed and head to the bathroom for a wash and shave, in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis.

After the hot drink and medication, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And despite it being only a short night, I had travelled miles.

I was with one of the nurses from dialysis last night. We were discussing religion. She was concerned about the number of visits that priests and people were obliged to make to their congregation, rather than the congregation going to see the priest. I explained that, in general, the people who required the visit of the priest were the dissenters. She asked what I meant by that. I explained that these were people who did not necessarily believe in the literal word of the Bible and didn’t take the literal word to be the exact truth. I gave her a couple of examples, such as when Jesus said “go forth and multiply”, that didn’t mean that you had to leave the meeting and go out and have sex, or anything like that. It was a case of putting some kind of logical interpretation onto those words. As we were doing that, we were walking round the side of the church, then round and into some kind of hall. There were lots of people there, and I noticed that a couple of them were girls whom I knew. They were secretaries for someone or other, so I wondered what they were doing here and why they had come. Had they come with their boss or anything like that? However, the dream drifted away before I reached the point of asking them.

Religion is, for some reason, a very touchy subject for some people. The number of people in the World who have been killed because of religion must be horrendous. It’s sad that many religions that preach “tolerance”, “understanding”, “respect”, “peace” and “love” will massacre at the drop of a hat anyone who interprets the religion differently. Everyone reads their sacred text and interprets it differently, and there is not one single way that is “right” or “wrong”.

We were going to watch a Welsh Premier game between Y Bala and another team. It was the biggest crowd that I’d seen for years. There were probably three or four thousand people there. At one corner of the ground, there was a group of noisy fans who were chanting and shouting, and creating a great atmosphere. I even saw my oldest sister’s husband. I thought that this would be something if he’s coming to watch a game in Wales. Y Bala ran out onto the field, to lots of applause, but the other team came out in some sort of horse-drawn caleche. When it reached the centre of the field, a group of about eight or nine people went to take the body off the wheels to put onto the floor, but it was too heavy and at one end, they dropped it, so of course everyone cheered. Eventually, the teams lined up for the start and the game kicked off. I was standing on the side of the ground. The game had only been going for about five minutes when suddenly, there was a huge torrential downpour. There wasn’t very much in the way of cover at this ground so the whole crowd practically dispersed. I went and stood inside some kind of in-let in a wall, chatting to someone else who was there. Gradually, my attention was distracted by some kind of newspaper article about, how at Wells Green, a huge quantity of gold had been dug up. Apparently it was the contents of some kind of ship and had been collected between the period 1810-1816 and had been buried when there had been some kind of problem with the ship, whether it was towing another one or whether another one was towing it. I thought that it was an astonishing thing and I was determined to find out more about it. In the meantime, the rain stopped and the crowd slowly gathered again, but the players were off the field. Presumably it was half-time. When a player came out from the back behind the bar and was ready to merge into the crowd, someone asked him what the score was. He said that it was sixty-five for six sixty-seven for eight, whatever that was supposed to mean. We couldn’t understand it. The player was dressed in his civilian clothes, almost as if he was no longer going to take part in the game, and no-one seemed to have an explanation for that either

You aren’t ever likely to find a big crowd at a game played at Y Bala. With a population of only two thousand or so, they could all fit into the ground at Maes Tegid, and with plenty of room to move around. The fact that the club has made it to the Welsh Premier League is an achievement in itself. You will, however, find plenty of rain. It’s one of the wettest places in the UK , with, on average, about fifty-three inches of rain each year.

Incidentally, Wells Green is about sixty miles from the sea, so any ship that found itself there really would have a problem.

I was doing another pick-up for Shearings, picking up in three or four towns. I had the coach ready and was ready to go. It was a route that I knew quite well and I’d done it on several occasions. I knew that today there were going to be problems because in one of the towns, there was a market and all of the town centre was closed up, so I was trying to work out how I was going to arrive at the pick-up place. One of the guys from the office came along and said “never mind. I’ve drawn a plan for you and I’ve put it in your paperwork”, which was nice of him. So I set out and went to the first stop where half a dozen or so people boarded. On the way to the second stop, I had to stop at a road junction, but for some reason the brakes were really heavy on this vehicle. I just managed to slither to a halt right on the line. Some tractors coming across from the right-hand side of this junction had their indicators on for turning right, but instead of turning right into the road that was directly opposite mine, they turned right into a particular field on that corner. Then, we set off when the lights changed and I had this really long sweeping curve which I took far too wide and almost ended up in the hedge but I managed to keep going. We stopped for two minutes at someone’s house, I’ve no idea why. The mother came out to talk to the daughter who was on board the coach, but the coach was now a little Renault 4 type of van with a rollback canvas hood. I went round and quickly dusted off the vehicle, which caused some amusement from this mother. I explained that it had to be done. Then, ready to go again, I climbed into the vehicle and looked at the map that this guy had drawn for me. It was nothing like useful because he’d assumed that I went into the town a certain way, but he’d just shown me a quick diversion around one particular street, but that was nowhere near where I actually do go into the town. I go in a different way. This map that he’d drawn was of no help to me whatsoever. So we set off, and we were coming into the edge of this town. We could see all of the ancient fortifications and the city walls, a really heavy, complicated thing all overgrown with mould and ivy. As we approached the city wall, ready to go into the medieval town, I was still wracking my brains as to how I was going to arrive at this pick-up point.

This is becoming a regular theme these days, isn’t it? Driving coaches to towns where there are all kinds of chaos in the town centre on a market day or something like that.

I had a vague memory of Emilie the Cute Consultant. She was telling me that my weight had climbed right back up again. I replied that I was convinced that the weight reading the last time was incorrect, rather than being a problem with my weight. However, I didn’t write that down and that’s all that I seem to remember of that.

This is connected to a discussion that I had on Monday. There is less and less liquid to extract these days. It’s true that I’m controlling my liquid intake very carefully, but that’s not the whole story. I’m eating less and less so I’m sure that my “dry weight” is going down. But as they only check it once a month, I shall have to wait for the next control.

Isabelle the Nurse was late arriving today. Apparently, she’d bumped into my cleaner outside and they had had a little chat. I have heard a little rumour that all is not well in certain quarters and that there is a story likely to unfold at some point.

She caught me in the bedroom working, and that was inconvenient for me, but there is no argument when she has made up her mind about something.

After she left, I went into the kitchen to make breakfast, and managed to eat everything today, which makes a change. But I was running late for just about everything. There was plenty to do after breakfast, which meant that there wasn’t much time left to work on my radio programme before my cleaner turned up to apply the anaesthetic.

It was round about then that the ‘phones went berserk with alerts. Major storm warning, batten down the hatches, 18:00 curfew, no-one moves. Gusts of wind up to 160 kph expected.

Bearing that in mind, she applied the anaesthetic quickly and shot off to do her afternoon’s work to be back before the storm hit.

As usual, when there’s a rush on, the taxi was late. We also had to go to pick up someone else so we really were late arriving at dialysis.

Luckily, I was seen quite quickly and I managed to persuade Emilie the Cute Consultant to reduce the time. After much discussion, she agreed to knock fifteen minutes off, so that I would be finished before 18:00.

No internet today for some reason, so I watched NIGHT TRAIN TO MUNICH, another Launder and Gilliatt film with the dynamic duo of “Charters and Coldicott”, followed by half of ROME EXPRESS starring one of my favourite actors, Gordon “Inspector Hornleigh” Harker.

In the end, I was disconnected at about 17:50, which made a nice change, but the panic amongst the taxi companies to deal with the unexpected flood of passengers meant that I had to wait half an hour for mine to turn up. Luckily, it was one of my favourite drivers so we had a nice chat all the way home.

At Granville, the wind had already sprung up, so I had to be dropped off at the rear entrance to the building where there is the fire escape. The car can come right up to the door there, so it saves me the twenty-metre walk in the teeth of the gale.

My cleaner helped me into the building (and I needed it too) and after she left, I made tea – pasta and veg in tomato sauce with a vegan burger. But once more, I left some on my plate.

Back in here, I had a little “relax” for fifteen minutes, and then, hearing the wind increasing in velocity, I made an executive decision, which for the benefit of new readers, of whom there are more than just a few these days, an executive decision is a decision that if it turns out to be the wrong decision, the person who made it is executed, and decided that I’d go to bed while the going was good. If the velocity increases, the chances are that it will be too noisy to sleep later on.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about the wind … "well, one of us has" – ed … they were still out on the golf course playing away as the wind velocity increased
One player was taking an age measuring up his shot, calculating the wind and the direction from which it was coming.
"Get a move on, can’t you?" urged his partner
"My wife’s over there" said the other. "I have to make this shot absolutely perfect"
"Does it really matter that much?"
"Ohh yes. If I don’t get it right, I might miss her."

Wednesday 7th January 2025 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

… the dictaphone again when I awoke this morning.

That was quite a disappointment to me, because I’d managed to have more sleep than the previous night.

Mind you, seeing as there was no sleep at all on Monday night, anything is an improvement on that, especially a nice, balmy, early … errr … 00:30

The notes, the backup, and the stats were finished at a quite reasonable time, but there’s always some housekeeping to do before I go to bed. And this is where I became really annoyed because what would usually take ten minutes with the big desktop computer took forever with the steam-driven computing of the travelling laptop. The laptop is OK for when I’m out and about, but here at home trying to do some real heavy-duty work with it, it just grinds to a halt.

The day shall be cherished when the new laptop arrives, and when I can finally find someone who can build a decent office computer for me, I shall be delirious … "you mean that you aren’t now?" – ed … It’s disappointing that between all of us, we’ve not been able to lay our hands on one reliable supplier, or worked out a way to have one received in the UK and sent on over here.

Anyway, I was in bed at about 00:30 and fast asleep at about 00:31. No coughing fit or agonising pain in the foot awoke me, so I slept right through until the alarm went off at 06:29.

Once more, it was a struggle to leave the bed, but I made it into the bathroom where I sorted myself out, and then into the kitchen for the hot ginger, honey and lemon drink to go with my medication.

When I’d finished that, I put away the rest of the shopping from last night, and that was a task and a half too. I hadn’t realised that there was so much.

Back in here, there was nothing on the dictaphone to transcribe, as I said earlier, and it was just as well because Isabelle the Nurse arrived.

While she was sorting me out, I explained about my fainting fit yesterday. She’s of the opinion that it might have been low blood pressure, but that would be a surprise because usually, I can withstand some pretty low blood pressure readings, such as the 6.8 of the other week, without any problems.

Once she’d left, I made breakfast. Not a lot, but I managed to finish it today, which makes a big difference. Still nothing to read, so it didn’t take long.

Back in here, I checked my e-mails. And here was a big disappointment. The new laptop, which should be arriving today, is held up at the factory and is still awaiting delivery. The estimated new arrival time is “not known”. After what I said earlier, that is a tragedy.

Instead, I surfed through the internet pages to see what else was on offer. My eyes alighted on a laptop that had much higher spec than the outstanding one, made by a more reputable manufacturer, and for not very much more money, so I bit the bullet. And even as we speak, it’s in the post heading this way.

Although the mail that I received about the other one said that I could cancel it at any time, when I went to cancel that order, it told me that cancellation was “no longer possible”, even though it’s still at the factory. So never mind. When it arrives, it will be going straight back

The next task was to rewrite a couple of sections of code for my web pages. And how much *.html, *.css and *.js have I forgotten? A task that would have taken me ten minutes ten years ago took me a good couple of hours and it’s still not exactly how I want it. This is really sad.

After a disgusting drink break, I rang up Paris to find out what time I’m expected on Tuesday. And when they told me, I went for a lie-down.

After recovering from the shock, I rang up the taxi company
"There is some good news and some bad news for you. The good news is that I have to go to Paris on Tuesday. you have plenty of authorisations left, and it’s for a consultation so I’ll be back the same day."
"So what’s the bad news?"
"The appointment is for 10:30"
"Oh dear – that means leaving at 06:30."
"Probably earlier than that if there’s snow on the ground. We know what happened on Monday"
So I’m being picked up at 06:00. God help us!

There were a couple of other things to do, and then I attacked the next radio programme, which will also be a concert. I edited the soundtrack and remixed it, cutting it down to about 58 minutes, and then dashed off some text for it.

It could have been finished too, except that I was … errr … away with the fairies … "although not in a manner that would have caused the editor of Aunt Judy’s magazine any excitement"- ed …

And properly too.

I was with my youngest sister. Somehow, we’d found our way into a kind of rich man’s home, which was at the top of a very steep hill. He had influential guests to come to see him, all of whom were criminals or crooks or something. When they arrived at the bottom of this steep hill, they would be accompanied up to the house up this really steep roadway by a group of people in some kind of 1950s Rolls-Royce or Bentley that was painted a bright mid-blue. We saw a couple of cars arrive like that. For some reason then, we were discovered, and we had to run. We came to the top of the bank where there was a really steep staircase of, ohh, hundreds of steps. My brother appeared, and he was in some kind of threatening mood, as if he belonged to this place. I looked at my sister, she looked at me, and the clipboard that I had in my hand, I threw it down the stairs, and we both ran hell for leather down the stairs. The clipboard only made a short distance, and then I had to pick it up every so often and throw it further down, and we’d continue running. On one occasion, I almost managed to catch it in mid-air as we arrived where the clipboard as before it had touched the ground. In the end, we reached the bottom, totally out of breath. I said “well, shall we ‘gang wham’ then?” in some kind of Geordie accent. She didn’t understand what I meant at first so after I’d repeated it a couple of times, I said “going home?”. She replied “oh no! You have to take me dancing and dining” and all these kinds of things, to which I laughed and said “I didn’t realise that I was supposed to be looking after you in that way”.

My brother, being menacing and threatening, is nothing new, although he was something of a paper tiger in that respect. However, being conspiratorial with my youngest sister might have been something that we would have done many years ago when she was a child, because she really was a good sport in those days, she grew out of it quickly with the stresses of work, marriage and family, as many people do

The Bentley, or Rolls-Royce, was interesting though, and I can still see it, even now.

Tea tonight was the last of the vegan pie, with mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, carrots and leeks. It was a struggle to eat it but I managed. And I forgot to have a dessert. But the vegan pie was nice and I’ll make another at the weekend.

So now, if the computer lets me, I shall be going to bed. I hope that this closing-down sequence doesn’t take another two hours.

But seeing as we have been talking about good news and bad news … "well, one of us has" – ed … it reminds me of a conversation that I overheard between a doctor and a patient at dialysis.
"I have some bad news for you and some worse news for you."
"Go on, doctor, tell me the bad news."
"I’m afraid that you only have twenty-four hours to live"
"Good grief! So what’s the worse news?"
"I forgot to tell you yesterday."

Monday 5th January 2025 – WHAT A NIGHT …

… that was!

When i checked the time at one point, it was 02:15 and I was still up, working. And it’s been a very long time since that has happened, a very long time indeed.

The irony of it all was that it could have been an early night. I’d finished my notes early and had done everything else quite rapidly that I’d needed to do, but I was … errr … detained.

Earlier in the day on Sunday, I’d been doing some housekeeping on the hard drives and I ended up with a massive 335 GB that needed to be transferred from one external drive to another.

However, I had unfortunately forgotten just how slow this computer is compared to the desktop one. A task that would have taken three or four hours went on – and on – and on, and by about 22:45, when I was thinking of going to bed, it was still grinding away with hours still to go.

It was really out of the question to stop it, because I’d just have to start all the way from the beginning again, so I decided to let it run its course and to find something else to do while I was waiting.

So there I was, trying to find a lot to do because it just kept on going. Round about 02:20, it finally ground to a halt and no-one was more relieved than me to crawl into my bed after all that. I didn’t need much rocking, that’s for sure.

When the alarm went off at 06:29, I decided that that was rather over-optimistic so I switched it off and curled back under the bedclothes. I’d reset it for 08:00, but when that went off, I did likewise.

The nurse, surprised to find me still in bed, awoke me to sort out my legs, and then threw the covers back over me and left. I was disappointed that he didn’t read me a bedtime story, but I don’t suppose that you can have everything.

Back to sleep I went, to awaken finally at about 10:00. It took me a good half-hour to summon up the energy to leave the bed, and I crawled off into the bathroom for a wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon at dialysis.

It was rather late to think about breakfast, so I just had half a bowl of porridge and a coffee to keep the lupus from the porte, as they would have said in Ancient Rome.

Back in here, I transcribed the dictaphone notes, and no-one was more surprised than me to actually find something.

I was in my Welsh class last night and we were doing some revision. We came across a revision exercise and I’d had a look at it beforehand so I knew a little bit of the answers. She asked this woman the first question, but th woman couldn’t think of the Welsh word for “couple”. The teacher in the end suggested dyllint or something. So she answered the first question, and I was expecting the second question to be passed on to someone else but instead, she asked the same woman. I thought that if she’s asking the same person all these questions, what does she have lined up in store for the rest of us? If I haven’t revised it, I’m going to be looking very foolish. I was sitting on a bench by the docks and there were fishing rods and everything all around me. There were two little girls sitting on a bench. I knew who they were but i just couldn’t put a name to them. I noticed that every now and again, one of them was giving a glance at me so I gave her a little wave and next time, I gave her a little wave again. She said “Eric, could we come to sit by you?”. I said “well, I have a class exam at the moment but you can come and sit on this bench with me afterwards if you like when I’ve finished this exam.

This must be a premonition because I didn’t have time to revise my Welsh this morning ready for class tomorrow. I’ve no idea who the little girls were, but they obviously knew me. And As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … what would I be doing with fishing rods?

By the way, the Welsh word for “couple” is cwpl

Once I’d done that, I went into the kitchen to prepare for dialysis. My cleaner turned up as usual to apply the anaesthetic, and in return I gave her the other half of her Christmas present that had been delivered yesterday, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall.

Believe it or not, I’d forgotten that I was going early for this X-ray. But it made no difference because the taxi was late arriving. Apparently, in all the snow that we were having, my driver had taken ninety minutes to come from St.Lô instead of the usual forty-five.

There were two other people to collect too, one in Sartilly where the roads hadn’t been cleared at all, so the time was just out of control.

To make matters worse, there was no-one at reception when we arrived at the hospital and we had to wait fifteen minutes for someone to appear.

There was no-one at X-ray either so it was another long, uncomfortable wait for someone to appear. So never mind my 14:00 appointment at dialysis – it was 15:09 when I was finally plugged in.

While I was there, I was introduced to Julie the Cook’s replacement. Unfortunately, she doesn’t bake so we’ll have to find other things to talk about.

Emilie the Cute Consultant came to see me, which was nice. She’d seen the X-ray and there’s no obstruction or infection, so she’s at a loss what to do next.

Eventually, I was liberated and ws able to come home, hours later than usual. It was the young chatty guy who brought me home so we had an interesting conversation all the way home.

My faithful cleaner was waiting for me in the sub-Arctic conditions and she helped me home. And after she left, I had the other half of yesterday’s pizza followed by a slice of Christmas cake. I must finish that off too. However, we’re back at the “everything tastes of salt” stage and it was all most unpleasant.

Right now though, even though it’s tremendously early, I’m going to bed. I’m hoping for a good sleep to make up for last night, but I doubt it very much. We can but hope. The biggest problem right now is the pain in my foot, and it’s killing me. It’s the worst that I’ve ever known it to be.

But seeing as we have been talking about Emilie the Cute Consultant … "well, one of us has" – ed … when she told me about the results of the x-ray, I asked her "so how do I stand now?"
"Well, " she replied, after a moment’s thought, "having watched you staggering about on your crutches for the last eighteen months, I’ve been wondering that myself."

Sunday 4th January 2026 – I HAD A …

… parcels delivery this morning, on a Sunday! What kind of strange idea was that? There was nothing in my e-mails to suggest that one would be arriving today.

Not only that, I wasn’t anything like prepared for its arrival either. What with one ting and another, like a late restart after tea, falling asleep on my chair for almost an hour, all of that, it was long after midnight and I was still letting it all hang out. It was probably 00:30 when I finally crawled into bed.

That’s why I was so surprised and disappointed to be awake at 03:20. There was something about being in a strange place and some American expected me to be in charge of the gentlemen’s restroom when I knew nothing at all about the exact situation.

The next time that I awoke, it was 07:50. I was in two minds whether to leave the bed at that point but I decided that it wasn’t worth the hassle and went back to sleep.

At about 08:15, there was this insistent ringing on the doorbell. The nurse usually rings when he arrives to make sure that I’m about, but I ignore it as he has a key to the building and my door. And then it rang again. “Don’t worry” I thought. He’ll work it out.

But a third time? And a fourth one? At that point, streaming profanities and vulgar abuse, I began to leave the bed but the door opened and in came the nurse, carrying a parcel. I quickly nipped back under the covers.

"Parcel delivery for you".
"Where was it?" I asked. "On the doorstep?"
"Oh, no" he replied. "The courier was ringing your bell to deliver it when I arrived"

So a courier delivering parcels at 08:15 on a Sunday morning? Whatever is going on here? It’s rather an extreme way of behaving, dragging people from their beds at silly times on a Sunday morning when all respectable people should still be asleep.

The nurse fitted my socks while I was lying in bed, and after he left, I have it a few minutes and the left the bed.

This morning, I didn’t bother with a wash. I just sorted myself out and then went to make breakfast – porridge, coffee and the last of the inside-out croissants. I must make some more next week, but I’ll make them the correct way round this time.

Back in here, there was some football from last night. I started off with Connah’s Quay beating Y Barri 3-1, despite being 1-0 down with only twenty minutes to play. And that’s as far as I went because this computer is just not up to watching streamed programmes

Instead, I transcribed the dictaphone notes.

There was some kind of party going on in Stoke-on-Trent and I’d been invited by my friend. So I turned up, and I was in my van. I had some things in the back to drop off. He noticed the spare wheel in the back and the large sheet of wood – pallet wood made into a sheet.I explained that one of my tyres was down somewhat on tread so I need to replace it. He said that it’s no surprise that it’s down on tread because it’s always sagging down to one side He had a look inside and said “yes, we have a jack. Yes we have a wheelbrace. There’s a DC socket in the back for the compressor and a few other things”, and he said that we’ll deal with it, but right now, there were other things to do. We had to go round to the front, but people kept on appearing with things wrapped in towels. They were unwrapping the towels and handing them to us. There were all kinds of different food supplies, piles and piles of stuff, loads and loads of loose mint sweets in wrappers. There was so much that we were just dropping it on the floor because we couldn’t carry it all at once. We decided to make a couple of runs and then come back for it, hoping that no-one else comes back for it in the meantime. Some of the people coming back were my youngest sister and her husband. They were dressed as if for Hallowe’en, with blackened faces. I went in to drop off these things, and all my family was in there. My mother said “oh Eric, you’re looking smart today”. I replied “meaning that I don’t look very smart any other day?”. There were all these children around, children whom I knew, children and grandchildren of all the people whom I knew in my circle of friends. There was one particular girl whom I would have liked to have seen, but she hadn’t come. I was particularly disappointed, but so was everyone else. However, she had sent a letter saying “don’t think that I am being rude but ..” and I didn’t manage to hear the rest of it. I was quite disappointed. We dropped these things off, and all these children whom we knew milling around. A couple of young teenage girls came over to chat. I thankedt one of them for doing something for me in the past, but I can’t remember what it was. She went to pat me on the chest and I replied “be careful. I have a catheter port in there” so she apologised. We began to chat, and that was that.

“all my family was in there” – how about that for a scary nightmare Hallowe’en scenario? But this was a dream with all kinds of things going on. A friend and I had had been talking about her children and grandchildren a day or two back, and this probably is where the scenario about all these kids comes from.

As for the missing girl, I am sure that you can all guess who it was, so I’m going to award Zero marks for that.

Caernarfon were playing in the Welsh Premier League and were very close to the top. With the final game to play, it was extremely important. If they were to win, they would qualify for Europe. However, they were hemmed in and surrounded by a large force of Apache warriors and i was very difficult to do anything under these events. The captain of the fort found two of his players fighting . He broke them up, and gave them a lecture about tomorrow being the most important day in the club’s history, all of this, In the meantime, he sent two people out during the night through the enemy lines. They were successful and managed to meet up with a large force of cavalry that was heading their way to try to relieve them. Having been told of the forces and their positions etc, the cavalry commander decided to sleep the night in a dry gulch in the immediate area so that his troops would be fresh and rested ready for battle that he would give on the first of the month as soon as it becomes daylight

If you think that the previous dream was all mixed up, then this one was even worse. The root of the word “Caernarfon” – “Caer” – implies a Roman fort or camp of course and there was a Roman camp there, but they were hardly likely to be defending it against Native Americans. The idea of resting after a march and launching an attack at daybreak was quite a common US Army military tactic in those days.

Did I dictate the dream about the guy going on the bus to the neighbouring town? … “No you didn’t” – ed … He was disabled too, just like me, and couldn’t walk properly. He had no force in his legs. He managed to climb aboard the bus and it set off. Its destination was this town and was going no further so it didn’t pick up anyone as it entered the town. When it came to the edge of the pedestrian area, the bus stopped and everyone alighted. The disabled guy went up to the bus driver and asked if this was where they would come back on board later. He replied “yes” so the guy said that he wouldn’t manage to climb back aboard. The driver recommended that he go to one of the bus stops a little further out of the town centre where the pavements were raised. In the meantime, back at home, there was an absolutely tremendous shower of snow. Within half an hour, there was maybe half a metre of snow everywhere. Some was some poor guy, a footballer, standing by the door of his apartment looking very miserable because he had been planning on breaking some kind of record for his team that afternoon but all the matches had been postponed. People began to shovel, but it wasn’t really much good because the snow was coming down too fast. They wondered if they should bring in some professional snowmen. They thought that that might be a good idea, but they remembered reading that one professional snowman had been killed a couple of days earlier during an incident involving heavy snow. Someone else had the idea of picking up a couple of laptops and taking them outside to put on chairs so that when the snow fell down, the warm laptop would actually melt it and it would be somewhere for people to sit while they were taking a little break from shovelling snow.

We’ve had a few dreams abut buses in built-up areas just recently. And having difficulty climbing aboard a bus is another one of those issues. Here in Granville, some of the pavements have been raised to bus-door height but, ironically, the ones outside the medical centres and in the town centre, where most disabled people are likely to go, have not.

Leaving a laptop outside to melt the snow that falls on it is an interesting idea. It might work for te minutes, but it would be an expensive way of doing it.

The rest of the morning and the early part of the afternoon were spent doing some housekeeping on the travelling laptop and the external hard drive, trying to tidy everything up before the new computer arrives.

Later on, I tried a different way of making bread. I’d seen a “no-knead” recipe for making bread in the air fryer, so I thought that I’d give it a try.

It’s very long-winded and takes a fair bit of time and the result wasn’t anything spectacularly good. It was only half a loaf too (my air fryer is quite small) so I might persevere and next time, make a full-sized loaf but bake it in the conventional oven.

While I was at it, I baked a small pizza and managed to eat half of it. I’ll save the other half for tea tomorrow night. But it was a weird pizza, because I had no fresh mushrooms. My cleaner hadn’t been to the shops this weekend.

Instead, I used frozen mushrooms, a great big handful, and I simmered them to dry the water out. And when I’d finished, there were hardly any mushrooms left. You’ll be amazed at how much water thee is in frozen mushrooms.

So right now, I’m off to bed, if the pain in my foot will subside. Dialysis tomorrow, unfortunately. We are back in our usual routine. And my new laptop might be here for Wednesday so that I can start working again. Steam-driven computing is not an ideal way forward.

But seeing as we have been talking about dreaming … “well, one of us has” – ed … one of my friends told me about a dream that she had.
"I dreamed that I was to have a new washing machine" she said. "If I went to sleep on my right side, I dreamed that I would have an Indesit, but if I went to sleep on my left side, I dreamed that I was t have an Electrolux."
"So what happened?" I enquired wearily
"I woke up my husband and told him"
"And what did he say?"
"He said ‘if you lie there on your back like that, quite still, I’ll give you a hotpoint"

EPIC HALL

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

Tag Archives: late night

Sunday 22nd March 2026 – I HAVE BEEN …

Monday 16th March 2026 – LATE HOME AGAIN!

Saturday 14th March 2026 – MY VEGAN CHEESECAKE …

Thursday 12th March 2026 – TONIGHT’S TEA …

Sunday 1st March 2026 – DYDD GWYL DEWI …

Saturday 28th February 2026 – I HAVE JUST …

Wednesday 25th February 2026 – I DON’T KNOW …

Thursday 19th February 2026 – HAVING JUST FALLEN …

Monday 2nd February 2026 – IT’S BEEN ANOTHER …

Thursday 29th January 2026 – I SHAN’T BE …

Wednesday 28th January 2026 – I HAVE HAD …

Thursday 8th January 2026 – WE HAVE ALL BEEN …

Wednesday 7th January 2025 – I HAD NOTHING ON …

Monday 5th January 2025 – WHAT A NIGHT …

Sunday 4th January 2026 – I HAD A …

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