Tag Archives: mashed potato

Wednesday 10th December 2025 – I HAVE HAD …

… visitors around today.

Or, rather, visitor. One of the other inhabitants rang me up to see if I was in. When I told him that I was, he came down for a sociable chat.

That’s what I like about this building. There’s a solidarity among the inhabitants that you don’t seem to find in many other places these days.

Having said that, I wish that I could have found some solidarity during the night to rock me back to sleep when I awoke unexpectedly.

Last night, I hadn’t rushed very quickly through the things that I needed to do. It was round about 23:30 when I finally went to bed, in some kind of hope that, after the turbulent times the previous night, I might at least manage seven hours sleep before the alarm were to go off.

That was why I was so disappointed when I awoke at … errr … 00:15. I’d hardly had time to go off to sleep. What was worse was that I couldn’t go back to sleep. I lay there, vegetating, for a whole four hours until in the end I was totally fed up.

At that point, about 05:10, I decided that I may as well take advantage of the early start, so I heaved myself out of bed. I wrote the notes for the two tracks that will join the first of the two radio programmes that I had been preparing.

Having written them, I dictated them, edited them and then assembled the programme. By the time that the alarm should have gone off (I’d switched it off when I left the bed), the programme was up and running at exactly the right length after some judicious editing.

After that, I went into the bathroom and sorted myself out and then into the kitchen to make my hot ginger, honey and lemon drink and to take my medication.

Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. My mother was in some kind of a kitchen somewhere to do with cookery. We kids were waiting outside to hear the results. While I was looking out of the window, I noticed a second-hand car site at the side of the hotel where we were. One of the vehicles that they had on the forecourt was a turquoise and white Ford Corsair estate. It looked beautiful, so I said to my mother that if she wins, I’ve seen the car that we should have, and we can all go away. However, she didn’t seem to be all that interested. Later on, I was out in my van and came to a weird junction where you had to cross over an island to reach the other side to turn left. On this island was a load of tram tracks. As I was approaching this island, some young kid on a pair of roller skates came roaring down the hill. I could see that this kid was going to turn in front of me where the tram tracks were. Once I was sure that that was the way in which he was going, I put my foot on the brakes of the van, but he saw me, panicked and fell over. I leaned out of the van to ask him if he was OK, but he picked himself up – and fell over again. At that moment, an ambulance appeared, picked up the boy and disappeared. I saw the boy’s photo many years later in an ancient news report. But while I was in the hotel with my mother and was moving around, I noticed that I wasn’t using my crutches, so I happened to mention it to her. Later on still, I was out for a walk around the park. When we reached the far end, there was a wire across the entrance and you had to climb over or climb under it. I reached the entrance and threw my front leg over it, pulled my rear leg up behind me, but of course it couldn’t go very far and I became tangled in the wire. All of the local passers-by had to help me untangle myself and then I could move on. It was the most memorable Christmas that I’d had, this particular one at that time

My mother being in a cookery competition would be a surprise to anyone who had eaten a meal at our house in the past. I shan’t go into detail because it brings back far too many unhappy memories of what she used to serve up. However, I do remember that it was because of her cooking that my brother and I began to experiment with baking cakes.

We also used to have a second-hand car sales yard across the road from where we lived in Davenport Avenue. On one occasion it had a Ford Corsair 1500 GT for sale, a dark red saloon, and how I used to admire it.and wish that I had the £195 to buy it. The Corsairs were beautiful cars, but not as nice as the Ford Classic, which was probably the most beautiful British car to ever grace the roads.

As for what the boy on the roller skates was doing, I have no idea. He doesn’t seem to fit in at all. The bit about being tangled up in a fence would probably be par for the course if I were to try to climb over a fence in my present state, and once again, we’re going places without our crutches.

Isabelle the Nurse came along as usual, and we had a discussion about the ‘flu jab and the Covid booster that I’m supposed to have. She’ll do the ‘flu jab with no problems (the injection is actually in my fridge even as we speak) provided that the dialysis centre says that I’m healthy enough.

The Covid injection is a different matter. The wholesale injections only come in packs of six, so she needs five more patients to sign up before she can order a packet. However, she assures me that I’m on the waiting list.

After she left, I made breakfast and read some more of Thomas Codrington’s ROMAN ROADS IN BRITAIN.

Today, we’re supposed to be strolling down Akeman Street but as usual, I’ve been sidetracked elsewhere. Back into the Scottish borders, in fact.

A chance remark led me to look for the Roman fort of Bremenium in Northumberland and the chance remark that "across the stream is the site of a temporary marching camp". Of course, I had to go for a look, and it was WELL WORTH THE VISIT .

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that a few days ago, we talked about the collection of different Roman camps at Chew Green. There’s mention of a road from Bremenium to Chew Green with a large Roman camp halfway along the road. Once more, I went for a wander around. So HERE’S ANOTHER ONE to add to your collection.

After breakfast, I had plenty of things to do, but I was interrupted by the arrival of my neighbour.

It’s very nice to see people, that’s for sure, and neighbours even more so. I made coffee for us and we had a good chat about this and that, which was nice. He stayed for about half an hour or so and as he left, I told him that he was welcome to come anytime. I know that I’m not the most sociable of people but I have to make an effort.

Back in here, I made a start on editing the recording for the next radio programme. However, I knocked off at some point to go to make a cake.

In the end, I decided on a fruit cake. I have plenty of sultanas and there were some figs left over from the Christmas pudding. I diced the figs into small pieces, mixed them with the raisins and than tipped them into a typical cake mix

As I said the other day, I baked it for longer on a lower heat lower down in the oven and it seems to have baked really well. I wish that I knew why the tops of my cakes keep on cracking, though.

Back in here, I finished off editing, assembling the programme, choosing the final track, writing and dictating the notes for that, and then assembling the programme completely. So that’s two radio programmes completed today.

The programme might have been finished earlier too, except that for about half an hour or so, I crashed out. No surprise, seeing how short my night was.

Tea was mashed potato, veggies and a slice of vegan pie, followed by a slice of my delicious fruitcake with chocolate soya sauce.

So dialysis tomorrow, and how I am not looking forward to that. I suppose that I’d better wander off to bed and make the most of what’s left of the night.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about my mother’s cooking … "well, one of us has" – ed … I remember as a kid watching a film about Dracula and dashing in to tell my father.
"There’s a film on the telly and a man just killed Dracula with a stake."
"That’s nothing" he replied. "Your mother can do that with a plate of egg and chips."

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Monday 17th November 2025 – WE HAVE HAD …

… a showdown at dialysis this afternoon.

This outrageous fatigue is continuing to lay me flat out, so I decided to take the bull by the horns.

The chef de service was on duty today so I seized the opportunity. I explained my week to him – dialysis Monday, Chemotherapy Tuesday, Chemotherapy Wednesday, dialysis Thursday, Centre de Ré-education Friday and dialysis Saturday.

"When am I supposed to have any time for myself?" I asked. "As if I don’t have anything else to do." And so we had a lengthy discussion. Whether anything comes of it or not, I really don’t know. Probably not, because so far, I have the impression that I am talking to a wall.

It’s no wonder, with a programme like that, that I am thoroughly exhausted. If I could concentrate on my notes and finish them at a reasonable hour, that would be a start. But sometimes I’m too tired to concentrate.

Like last night, for example. It should have been an early night but what with one thing and another … "and until you make a start, you have no idea how many other things there are" – ed … by the time I’d done everything that I needed to do, it was 23:10 when I finally crawled into bed.

So much for my aim of being in bed by 22:30.

Once I’d managed to fall asleep, I was flat out until all of … errr … 04:10, and at one point I was seriously thinking of leaving the bed. However, I must have gone back to sleep because the next thing that I remember was the alarm going off at 06:29.

As seems to be the case these days, it took me an age to raise myself from the Dead and head into the bathroom. And then it was a very leisurely start to the day while I made my ginger, honey and lemon drink with which to take my medicine.

When I’d finished that, I cut the loaf into two and put one half in the freezer. And then I cut up the cake into squares and put them into an airtight container.

Isabelle the Nurse took me by surprise again, and I had to sit quietly … "if that’s possible" – ed … while she took my blood pressure.

Once she’d done that, she looked after my feet and legs, and then I made breakfast.

After breakfast, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. The Confederate Army had a kind of hospital where they put their. I was going there as part of the sick. One thing that I had noticed was that there seemed to be no sense of urgency in defending the fort, and no plan of what to do if the enemy were to attack. They didn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry to have everyone installed. The Union Army launched a campaign in that area and the hospital came under threat. However, it was the Union Army this time that prevaricated and seemed to waste every possible moment before launching an attack. Had it been a decisive attack quite quickly, it might have succeeded. The dream went on from there but unfortunately, I can’t remember it

What a shame that I can’t remember it. But it seems that I’m stuck in the American Civil War and I’ve no idea why. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that WE VISITED SEVERAL CIVIL WAR BATTLEFIELDS and we’ve been reading bits here and there, but I don’t know why it’s become so imprinted in my subconscious mind.

Over the past couple of days, I’ve been reading AB-SA-RA-KA, LAND OF MASSACRE by Margaret Carrington, and at long last, after many years of searching, I’ve found that which I’ve been seeking.

In the back of the book is a large fold-out map of Wyoming and the Dakotas, with the various trails and campaigns marked out, along with the sites of the forts and the major battles.

It doesn’t fold out so well in a *.pdf but a series of judicious screen prints and a good graphics editing program has produced an impressive *.jpg image.

The book does not contain a list of all of the battles (she says that it would be far too long) which is a shame, and I’m sure that the map is not complete, but how I wish that I had had it with me on my various forays into “Indian Territory” over the past twenty-odd years.

Doing that took up most of the morning, and in the remaining time, I edited the radio notes that I’d dictated the other day.

When my faithful cleaner appeared, I went into the kitchen where she applied my anaesthetic. And then I waited for the taxi.

It was early today, so I was early arriving. I was connected up quite quickly, which is nice. However, I tried a couple of times to doze off to sleep, to catch up on the sleep that I’ve been missing, but everyone seemed to awaken me today. In the end, I gave it up.

Towards the end of the session, the chef de service came to see how I was. He gave me a brief explanation of what’s happening, and then he went to leave.

"That’s OK" I replied "if you don’t want to hear what I have to say."

That rather took him by surprise.

Now that I had his attention, I described my week to him. I also mentioned that despite having told the Centre de Ré-education that any more than three sessions per day is killing me, they gave me four last week, and there are four next Wednesday too.

What with the chemotherapy too, I feel as if I’m being kept alive simply for the purpose of being alive for the next medical appointment, and so on after that. There’s no quality of life any more, I have plenty of things that I would like to do that I cannot do because of all of this, and the way that my life is being run right now, I’ve become a slave to the medical system. It’s no surprise that, with all of this, I’m so tired.

His reply was "you are seriously ill and we are doing our best to keep you alive."

My reply was "but if this is the best that I can have, I simply don’t see the point. There’s no point in staying alive if all that they can promise me is another medical appointment the following day. We may as well call it a day, all of it."

Of course, he wasn’t happy. But then again, neither am I.

In the end, he put a note in my file to hand to the chemotherapy people tomorrow, and he says that he’ll send a message to the Centre de Ré-education. As for the dialysis clinic, he’ll chat with his colleagues and see if it might be possible to reduce my sessions to two per week.

Whether he does actually follow it up, and whether the hospital at Rennes and the Centre de Ré-education react remains to be seen, of course. But something needs to change because I can’t go much longer on like this.

And in case you think that I’m not being serious, I promise you that I am.

The taxi driver, the young chatty one, was waiting. He had another passenger with him and we had an interesting chat all the way home. We arrived early for once and after I’d gathered my wits … "with the amount of wits that he has left, I’m surprised that it takes him so long" – ed … I amended the running order of the tracks and re-paired and re-segued them, as I mentioned a week or so ago that I would…

Isabelle the Nurse came to take my blood pressure as usual. It was as high as 13.4 – that’s extreme hypertension for me and it shows just how worked up I’ve become over this affair. She had to wait ten minutes for me to calm down.

Tea tonight was mashed potatoes in butter with peans and a breaded spicy vegan burger followed by chocolate cake. And once more, I ate it all.

Now I’m off to bed, ready for chemotherapy tomorrow, I don’t think.

But seeing as we have been talking about the Wars in Indian Territory in the late Nineteenth Century … "well, one of us has" – ed … General Crook admitted to being impressed with the standard of horsemanship of the Lakota Sioux. He is on record, according to JG Bourke’s ON THE BORDER WITH CROOK as saying that they were "the finest light cavalry in the World"
When he finally met up with Chief Red Cloud, he asked him how they managed it.
"We’ve had plenty of practice riding horses over the last couple of Centuries."
"How come?" asked Crook.
"We had to" replied Red Cloud. "You try carrying a horse and see how far you can travel."

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Thursday 10th July 2025 – I AM FED UP …

… of the dialysis centre and the je m’en foutiste of the doctor who always seems to be at the centre of any dispute that I may have.

Once more, we’ve “had words” and it wasn’t a very ideal situation. I’ve made my point but it will have made absolutely no difference at all.

In fact, it’s been a bad day all round. It started off badly by me being asleep yet again when the alarm went off. How many days is this? A far cry from the heady days when I was up and working at 04:30, things like that.

It wasn’t as if it had been an early night though. It was quite close to midnight when I finally crawled into bed, but once in bed, there I stayed without moving.

It was actually difficult to move because my right knee was covered in this heat treatment and I had an ice pack strapped to it too. “Kill or cure” is my motto for right now.

When the alarm went off, it took a while for me to gather my wits, which is a surprise seeing how few I have these days, and then I had an undignified stagger into the bathroom for a wash and scrub up in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon.

It was a very slow early morning in the kitchen sorting out my medication too. It seemed to take an age before I was back in here.

First task was to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was with a football club that was preparing for a series of pre-season friendlies. The match that was coming up was against Manchester United and so everyone was quite nervous about how the score would unfold. However, when we took to the field we found that it was against another club and that the Manchester United game had already taken place. However, no-one could remember the result of that game. Then the whistle sounded for the kick-off but it wasn’t the whistle, it was the alarm sounding at 06:30.

There are so many pre-season friendlies going on right now that this could refer to just about anything, although it was interesting to see me having yet another bout of confusion.

The nurse turned up early again. I asked him if he could have a look at my knee so he gave it a cursory examination and reckons that it’s simply bruised rather than broken or chipped or anything. This heat treatment and ice pack is the way to go, he reckons.

After he left I made my breakfast and had to deal with a volcano in the microwave, because the surveillance of my porridge was interrupted by my faithful cleaner arriving to check on me, to see how I was.

After she left, I cleaned up the mess and sat down to eat breakfast while reading MY BOOK.

Today, we have been talking about the wealthy people whose donations to various charities enabled the poor of London to have a less mean existence. And when you see the amount of money donated by some people, you can see immediately, with the Margaret Thatcher "Who is society? There is no such thing! There are individual men and women and there are families and no government can do anything except through people and people look to themselves first.", that modern-day society has collapsed, with the rich squirrelling away as much as they can in their offshore accounts.

Our author gives us a lovely example of how things were in the Sixteenth Century. There "were some small cottages … for some bed-ridden people … devout people … were accustomed oftentimes, especially on Fridays, weekly to walk that way purposely to bestow their alms."

What price that now?

Back in here, I read through my notes for the “Saturday Woodstock” programme, making a few corrections and additions ready to dictate the next time that I’m up early, whenever that might be. But the way things are going, it will be a while yet.

My cleaner turned up and fitted my anaesthetic patches, and after she left I came back in here to work. However, unbelievable as it may be, I dozed off.

The taxi awoke me and I staggered out into the lovely warm afternoon to drive down to Avranches. It was the chatty young female driver who took me so we had an interesting chat along the way.

At the centre, I was met with the bad news. Having insisted that I was losing weight and they denying it and insisting that these 200 grammes here, 300 grams there was correct, they performed another scan on me to determine my dry weight.

As I suspected, I have lost about three kilos just recently and I’m now officially below my preferred “inactive weight”. This also means that I had about four kilos of water to lose that they hadn’t extracted over the period that my weight was decreasing, and that means a stay of four hours.

All of the messing around meant that the procedure didn’t start until late either.

My blood pressure was horribly low so every fifteen minutes when the machine checked it, it sounded the alarm and the girls came running.

The je m’en foutiste doctor was there on duty so I complained to him. As usual, he didn’t seem to care so I expressed myself in somewhat … errr … forthright tones, but it made no difference.

While he was there, I also told him about my dizzy spells and the fall, but he didn’t seem to be too bothered either. He didn’t even examine me. He’s definitely in the wrong job.

The dietician came to see me too. They are all concerned about my loss of weight and in particular, the loss of protein. She was trying to persuade me to adopt a carnivorous diet, even though my body can’t digest animal fats and that I had a recurrence of my pancreas issues back in April.

These people really have no idea.

In the end, she told me to take as many as four disgusting drinks per day, and gave me several recipes to make it more palatable, including a recipe for a banana and orange milk shake, which totally threw me, seeing as about six months ago, she banned me from eating bananas and oranges because of the potassium.

The nurses came back and gave me some kind of electrogram test, although I don’t know why and neither did they.

During all of this, I was fighting off wave after wave of sleep but in the end I succumbed and poor Alexi had to awaken me to disconnect me.

Horribly late again, there was another passenger in the taxi and we had to drive miles through the Normandy countryside to drop him off, meaning that it was long after 19:30 when I returned home.

On the way in, I stuck my head inside the new apartment to see the work that the kitchen fitter had done, and it was so impressive. I can’t wait for him to come back and crack on.

My faithful cleaner has been busy too. She had been through my apartment here, tidying up and cleaning and it looks wonderful. Tomorrow, she’s going to blitz my bedroom so it all looks good for this photography session.

Tea was bangers and mash with vegetables. I don’t know why, but I had had a craving for them all-day. However, as is usual, they tasted much better in my imagination than they did in real life.

So now it’s bedtime, ready for a good day’s work tomorrow. There’s a lot to do and I can’t hang around. It won’t be done on its own.

But seeing as we have been talking about the je m’en foutiste doctor … "well, one of us has" – ed … during our chat, he told me "if you are really becoming fed up with being here for four hours, you can ask to be unplugged and then go home".

"If I could go home whenever I became fed up with dialysis" I retorted "I would never arrive at all"

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Thursday 24th April 2025 – ONCE MORE, JUST …

… like yesterday I was op and about before the alarm went off. Not quite as early though. It was about 06:20 when I hauled myself out from underneath the bedclothes.

Considering that it was almost midnight when I went to bed last night, that’s some good going too. After my Herculean effort in the morning, staying awake and up and about until then was pretty good too.

So after I finished my notes, the stats and the backing up, I loitered around for a few minutes … "more than a few minutes" – ed … before crawling off to the comfort and safety of my own bed.

Once in there I was soon away with the fairies (although not in any fashion that would incite comment from the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine) and only have the briefest of recollections of anything going on during the night.

It was a different matter round about 06:05 when I awoke. I couldn’t go back to sleep and I was actually crawling out from under the covers when I heard the water heater switch off.

In the bathroom I had a good scrub and a shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant this afternoon. And then into the kitchen for the medication.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. Nerina had a Ford Cortina MkIII, a gold one. She wanted to keep it or she wanted to sell it – she couldn’t make up her mind so I advertised it for her to have some people come round to look at it to see what they thought, to make an offer and she could decide and take it from there. But everyone seemed to think that there were some pieces missing from it. I explained that we did actually have everything – it probably just wasn’t to have at the moment. I’d be able to sort it out in a short space of time

That’s something about which I know a great deal. I have four Cortinas down in the Auvergne, three of which are basically quite good. There are plenty of bits to fix those that need fixing but ask me where they are. I know that they are all there somewhere.

Later on, when I awoke I was back at home, Shavington or Davenport Avenue, with a huge bunch of screaming kids, some of whom were ours and some of them weren’t. One of them seemed to take quite a fancy to me and hung around with me for a while. However I awoke in the middle of all of that and so never found out what was going on.

With plenty of time left before Isabelle turned up, I did some housekeeping on the computer to bring that more up-to-date. But like most things around here, I seem to be taking one step forward and two straight backwards.

Isabelle breezed in and didn’t stop long, just enough time to deal with my legs and admire my new compression socks.

When she left, I made my breakfast and read MY BOOK. We’ve finished Leicester Castle, breezed through several minor piles and now we are at Lincoln. I’ve no idea what we are going to find there but we probably won’t be there long trying to find it.

Back in here I attacked the notes for the radio programme and in a mad fit of effort I almost finished them too. That was some effort, I can tell you.

My cleaner was late today and so it will come as no surprise to learn that my taxi was early. I was nothing like ready when he arrived and we had to keep the two other passengers in the car waiting for a while.

We arrived early at the hospital but then again so did everyone else so I was still last to be coupled up. Luckily it was Julie the Cook who saw to me.

They set the blood pressure alarm higher than usual so every half-hour or so, one of the nurses came over to check me. It was just as well because I hadn’t been feeling well at all all day, aching in every bone and muscle, out of breath and so on.

One of the doctors (not Emilie the Cute Consultant) came to see me today. I managed to obtain from her a prescription for an occupational therapist to come to my new apartment to give advice about installations for the handicapped and disabled.

This evening I was one of the last to be unplugged, and then I had to wait around for fifteen minutes for the last person to finish so that we could leave the dialysis centre and drop her off on the way home.

My faithful cleaner was there and watched as I staggered up the stairs into my room. First thing that I did was to have a disgusting drink break seeing as the taxi came early and prevented me from having one before leaving.

Something else that the taxi prevented me from doing was taking a naan dough out of the freezer. And so I’ll have that and my leftover curry for tea tomorrow. Tonight I had sausage and mash with vegetables and it was delicious.

It’s really early but I’m still not feeling very well so I’m off to bed where I intend to sleep for a week if I have the chance

But seeing as we have been talking about Ford Cortinas … "well, one of us has" – ed … I remember when I was welding up the floor in someone’s Cortina when she was off to her mother’s.
She saw the legs sticking out from underneath the car so in passing, she reached under and … well … you can imagine.
When I came out of the garage with a G-clamp she had gone and my friend John from Stockport was nursing a lump the size of an egg on his forehead.

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Friday 14th July 2017 – BRAIN OF BRITAIN DOES IT AGAIN!

Yes, remember yesterday? When I told you that I was going shopping today?

So there I was checking the date this morning (I take certain pills on odd-numbered days and certain others on even-numbered days) and it was then that I noticed …

Yes, 14th July. Quatorze Juillet – la Fête de la Bastille. The anniversary of when the Paris communards stormed the Bastille and released all of 14 prisoners.

And, of course, it’s a national holiday, isn’t it? And I didn’t have much food in the house either.

I’d had a bad night too – I’m not even sure if I slept at all. And I was up and about long before 07:00 too. But the Bank Holiday threw me out of my stride.

And so I’ve not done as much as I might otherwise have done. I’ve been spending some time socialising on the internet (something that I decided that I would dramatically cut down on) and also sorting out a huge pile of photos from 2007 that I discovered.

clairvoyant by appointment chatelguyon puy de dome franceIncluding this absolute gem from Chatelguyon in July 2007.

I mean, what kind of clairvoyant is this? Visits by appointment only?

If she were any good as a clairvoyant you wouldn’t need an appointment because she would know that you were coming, surely!

However, I did do some work on the blog upgrade. Not as much as I would like, of course, but then that’s always been the story of my life. And for much of the morning I was working on this page.

This was another one that started off as a mere 100 or so words as a placeholder, but now it runs to well over 1200 words and a pile of photographs too.

I had to do without a tomato at lunchtime (I had some vegan cheese instead – luckily I still have some left) and tonight we had mash and rozen vegeables (all cooked in the steamer) with a veggie burger and gravy, followed by one of my breakfast fruit purées.

Tomorrow I WILL have to go shopping but I’m not looking forward to that. The holiday season is well under way and the grockles will be out in force.

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Friday 7th July 2017 – WHAT A NICE …

… tea!

Mashed potatoes, frozen peas and carrots done in the vegetable steamer, and a vegan burger and gravy done in the wok.

At least, it would have been nice, but 7 minutes in the steamer isn’t anything like long enough. The spuds take 15 minutes or so and when I cook frozen veg next time, I’ll cook them right from the beginning of the cycle.

Still, you live and learn.

Pudding was pear halves and blackcurrant sorbet and that all went down nicely too.

Last night’s sleep was better than the previous, but still not as good as the one from the night before. I was rather hoping that The One That Got Away would come back to continue where we left off last night, but no such luck. You can’t win a coconut every time, unfortunately, not even in the astral sphere.

After breakfast and a shower and shave (I need to look my best) Caliburn and I hit the streets. It’s Friday – shopping today. No point in doing it tomorrow – first day of the school holidays so we’ll be hemmed in with grockles.

I spent a fair bit of money today too – not an extravagent amount, but far more than usual. And I can’t think what cost all of the money. Highlight was in LDL – a set of electronic digital scales for the kitchen at €7:99. That’s not going to rock the boat.

But nothing special in NOZ and nothing special in LeClerc, and nothing at all in BUT. I can see that my plans for a mini-hifi for here are all going to come to nought, which is a shame.

Lunch again was on the wall overlooking the harbour, until the heat drove me in. And then I had an afternoon where … err … my concentration was not at its peak.

But I’ve cracked along with the blog entries, and a couple of those today were quite lengthy and involved. This one of La Roche d’Agoux was one of three that took ages to straighten out. I can see why I abandoned July and August 2012 when I was doing it last time. It wasn’t easy.

So another early night beckons. I doubt very much that The One That Got Away shall put in an appearance tonight – even though we were chatting on the internet for about an hour or so earlier this evening.

But it’s a sad state of affairs and a sad sign of the times that what goes on while I’m on a nocturnal voyage into the unknown is more exciting than what I’m up to in daylight hours anyway.

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Monday 27th February 2017 – NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL …

… the Sleep of the Dead!

By about 21:30 I was totally out of it, what with all of my exertions over the weekend and my late night on Saturday. And with a hectic 10 days to come, there’s no point in pushing out the boundaries so I hit the sack. I vaguely remember at about 23:30 waking up to switch off the laptop, and that was absolutely that until the alarm went off at 07:00.

Totally painless, and I felt so much better for it.

I had company a breakfast – one of these Obsessive Compulsive Disorder people who spent 10 minutes washing a mug, and then 10 minutes washing a glass – that type of person. And then, inexplicably, he left his dirty knife in the sink – and told me not to wash it as he would do it later. Not that I was intending to of course – each to his own around here – but it was such a strange thing to do given how much time he had spent washing the rest of his stuff.

Hospital came next – and I had to get a move on because Bane of Britain had taken his hospital folder down to Caliburn last night and he needed it up there. It’s all keeping me fit anyway. And up there, the nurse who fitted my catheter into my catheter port did so with such skill and dexterity that I didn’t even realise that she had done it and taken the blood sample.

This led to the following fantastic exchange –
Our Hero – “you know, I’m so impressed. You did that so gently that I didn’t even realise it”
Nurse – “I was Belgian Ladies’ national darts champion in 1984 and 1986”

I had to wait ages to see the doctor, but in the meantime I saw Kaatje, my Social Welfare worker and Ingrid, the trick cyclist. Ingrid managed to wangle me a visit to see the Professor who is handling my case, and Kaatje conformed that absolutely everything is up-to-date as far as payments go, and she’ll find all of the required information that I need for my insurance by next week (I shall be passing by).

As far as my health goes, the news isn’t quite so good. Blood count is down, to 10.3 and I’m not very happy about that. The protein loss is stable, but it’s still way too high as we all know.

But the professor didn’t give me much encouragement. I have renal failure – well, we’ve all guessed that with the protein loss didn’t we, so no surprise there. But I have a rare disease as you all know and according to the Professor, “it’s not responding like it should”.

She thinks that moving house is a good idea, because hauling wood and water is not such a good idea, but as to whether I need to go into a care home, rent a property or buy something else, she recommends renting. Apparently I’m
well enough right now that I don’t need a care home, but if I rent somewhere rather than buying it, I can escape from that commitment much easier than a purchased accommodation. She can’t say whether I’m good for &5 years, or good for 10 years, and when you add up all of that, it doesn’t sound too healthy, does it?

On the way back, I went to buy some bread for lunch, and had a goodbye kiss from the girl in the supermarket on the corner. That cheered me up no end, I’ll say!

After lunch, I carried on packing and moving stuff down to Caliburn. But I had a brief moment of distraction ringing up my bank. There’s an “issue” with a payment on my account, for no reason whatsoever, and it’s the monthly payment that i need to make to my Storage company in Montreal – the ones with whom I’ve had all of these issues just now.

“Unusual spending patterns” is the issue so I phoned them up – with a French mobile from Belgium to the UK, explained this to the girl on the phone, who promptly put me on hold for 8 minutes. By the time that I was reconnected I was steaming. The discussion that we had was … errr … rather heated, and in the end they put the phone down on me before I had quite finished telling them exactly what I thought of them and their bank.

But at least the payment has been made and I hope that this will be the last of it. But I’ml getting rather sick of it all.

For tea I had sausage, mash and frozen veg for tea, followed by vegan ice-cream and peach halves. That’s most of my food from here finished, and whatever is left is left.

Another four loads of stuff down to Caliburn, and I even found time to go for a coffee with Sean, the guy who used to live here. I quite enjoy his company, until he starts on about the EU. He really has a bee in his bonnet about it and he isn’t ever going to change my opinion, so I don’t know why he wants to start a discussion about it – unless it’s something to do with the two or three beers I suppose.

And I had a weird experience on the way back. Some French van with three men in it, were stopping at each girl that they saw in the Kapucijnenvoer and asking them a question. It didn’t seem quite right to me, especially when they almost stopped at the same girl twice, realised that it was she and drove off rapidly. I’ve taken the vehicle the registration number of the van just in case, because I can smell a rat from here, never mind from there.

Ad so now I’m totally exhausted, so I’m just about to go off to bed. My last ever night here in this hostel (I hope) and I’m exhausted. I’ve had a really busy day and I need to relax.

Let’s hope that the weather improves.

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Thursday 23rd February 2017 – WHAT DO YOU NOTICE …

escalator sports shop leuven belgium february fevrier 2017… that is not quite right about this photo? It’s the kind o thing that can only ever happen in Belgium

Closer inspection of the photograph should tell you what is wrong – there are a set of stairs and an escalator inside this Sports shop in Leuven. And the escalator is going downhill to the lower level, and to climb back up again you need to take the stairs.

That’s not the kind of thing you can make up, is it?

Only in Belgium!

I had a fair-ish night last night. Late dropping off to sleep although I did manage to sleep right trhough – until about 06:30 when someone else’s alarm awoke me. No idea whose, but anyway there I was.

I’d been on my travels too, reliving a “Gunsmoke” episode where some people were leaving the area and there was some dispute as to whether they would be taking their 4-year old girl with them. And I ended up babysitting for my sins. I don’t half have some rough jobs.

Alone again at breakfast and then back up here for a little repose, and I’ve done a little alteration here and there on my internet homepage. I created a web page with all of the links to the sites that I visit regularly, and I use that as my homepage. It’s getting a little out of control so I’ve been amending it to read better – it’s now three columns instead of two.

lectern st peters church leuven cathedral belgium february fevrier 2017Later on in the morning, I had a shower and shave, and then went out for a walk.

I ended up not at the church around here, but at St Peter’s Cathedral in the city centre. I wasn’t aiming to go there, but walking past, I noticed that the doors were open, so I nipped inside.

The pulpit is magnificent as you can see in the photo. It’s really quite a work of art, bordering on the grotesque, and wouldn’t be out of place in a grotto somewhere.

lectern st peters church leuven cathedral belgium february fevrier 2017The rear of it, which you can’t see, is actually a grotto and it’s a representation of the Calvary, the cross of the crucifixion with, underneath, the cave where Jesus was entombed until the resurrection.

And it did remind me of Cap de la Madeleine, the place in Quebec that we visited in 2011 where they had a competition of artists and sculptors to design an appropriate monument for the Calvary. And an Irish sculptor sent in a drawing of John Wayne on his horse.

From here I went for a wander around the shops (see the photo at the top of the page) and ended up back at Sports Direct. They still had some of those good-quality sports trousers on offer at €23 for two, so I bought another couple, seeing as the ones that I bought the other week are quite good.

That means that I have enough decent trousers for now, and I can relegate some of the other ones down the chain. I’ve decided too that I’ll order some new polo shirts from my supplier in the UK – have a wardrobe upgrade.

After lunch, I cracked on with my medical expenses and I’ve finally finished them. It wasn’t half an effort but once I got into the rhythm it was fairly straightforward. At least it means that I don’t have to pay postage and recorded delivery letter fees, and sending them by the internet is bound to be quicker than the Post anyway.

Later on I had a crash-out, and then went for tea. I’d called at the Delhaize while I was out for some potatoes, and so I had sausage beans and mashed potatoes followed by vegan ice cream sorbet and peach halves.

It’s a day off work tomorrow for me (yippee!) so with an early night, I might even be on form. But I’ll be continuing my process of having a little walk every day. I’ll see if that does me any good.

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