… extremely democratic about sitting down to your breakfast at 11:55. Even though an hour of that was “lost” due to the change to Summer Time, it was still quite impressive, and it shows you just how tired I have been.
What made it even more impressive was that when I was just about to climb into bed, it was 22:28 – two minutes before my ideal curfew time. That’s the advantage of going to bed without any tea – being able to write my notes and do the usual housekeeping without any pressure at all.
Maybe I should try it more often. An early night, plus a session of losing weight for dialysis can’t be bad.
Mind you, the night wasn’t as good as it might have been. I awoke on a couple of occasions and even had to leave the bed at one point to … errr … siphon the python, which is very unusual.
Once more, it was the tail-end of the nurse’s buzzing that awoke me, but I still pretended to be asleep when he came in here. He sorted out my legs and feet without saying too much, and after he left, I went straight back to sleep.
At some point though, I awoke. I’ve no idea what time it was but it took me a good while to bring myself to sit on the edge of the bed, and just as long again before I rose to my feet to stagger off into the bathroom.
It was 11:35 when I made it into the kitchen and by the time that my breakfast was ready and I could sit down to eat it, it was 11:55. Hot black coffee, porridge, and the last of this batch of croissants. Next weekend, I shall, of course, be attacking the somewhat overdone hot cross buns. Overdone they might be, but I bet that they’ll taste just as nice, toasted and with loads of vegan butter.
While I was eating, I was reading some more of ESSAYS ON THE LATIN ORIENT by William A Miller.
We’ve finished the pages on the émigré nobles expelled from their lands to Rome where they were living on a papal allowance of, in some cases, as little as 40 ducats per month, the equivalent of about £1,100 today. That, of course, is hardly enough to keep an exiled nobleman or king in the luxury to which he would like to be accustomed.
Back in here, I listened to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.
Collapsed apartment blocks caused by jerry-building and raging fires due to out-of-control wood stoves were a common occurrence in Ancient Rome. In fact, Leonardo III Tocco, Duke of Cephalonia and Despot of Epirus, one of our exiled leaders living in Rome on the Pope’s charity, was killed when his house collapsed on top of him.
Not that I’ve ever lived, or even been to Asia, but no matter where I am, I have no regrets whatever about leaving the UK. And it’s strange, but the majority of my closest friends are also British people who have moved to mainland Europe. Birds of a feather flock together, so they say.
After the dictaphone notes and a few other things that needed doing, we had a footfest – the highlights of the matches in the JD Cymru Premier League from yesterday. And one of the most surprising results was that Llanelli, hopelessly adrift at the foot of the table, beat Welsh Cup finalists Y Fflint 2-1 away at Y Fflint’s ground. I’m not sure how that happened but it’s certainly thrown the relegation battle between Y Bala and Y Fflint wide open again.
Following that, there were two matches of Stranraer’s to watch. The first was Tuesday night’s 3-1 home win over Clyde and the second was a disappointing 1-0 defeat away at Annan. But I do have to say that I’m sure that the referee was refereeing a different game to the one that the crowd, the match commentators and I were watching.
There wasn’t much time after that, but nevertheless I managed to edit another lot of radio notes and prepare the two halves of the programme. The joining track has been selected and the notes written for it too, ready for dictation at some point in the future.
When it was baking time, I went into the kitchen to bake a chocolate oil-cake, with coconut oil. And with real chocolate chips from a whizzed-up bar of cooking chocolate and with ground almonds and ground Brazil nuts.
And at some point during the week, it will have a coating of melted cooking chocolate bar. Sickly as anything, but that’s my Easter treat along with my hot cross buns.
After that, I made the base for tonight’s pizza. And another really delicious one, with half left over for tomorrow, as usual.
Right now, though, I’m off to bed, ready for dialysis tomorrow … "I don’t think" – ed … and all of the doctors in their little room, crossing their fingers in the hope that this “serious risk of suicide” comes to pass.
But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my hot cross buns … "well, one of us has" – ed … one of my friends asked me if I would enjoy them, despite their being over-baked.
"Not a problem" I replied. "It reminds me of my mother when we were kids."
"How do you mean?"
"She used to treat us all like Gods."
"In what way?"
"Every time we came home from school, she presented us with a burnt offering."
