Tag Archives: Woolhope Naturalists’ Club

Tuesday 18th February 2025 – I AM FEELING …

… a little better today. I can tell that because earlier this evening I began to look forward to eating something. Maybe that’s because I didn’t have any lunch today, but then again I’ve not had lunch for a few days either and I’ve still not felt all that hungry in the evening.

Even though I was late going to bed last night, I didn’t hang around after I’d finished work and was soon tucked up in my little cot where I was asleep quite quickly.

Not for long though. At 00:39 (I checked the time) I was wide awake. And awake for quite some time as well but I’d obviously gone back to sleep at some point because I awoke again, this time at 05:44 (I checked the time again).

Despite everything that I tried I couldn’t go back to sleep this time and when the alarm went off at 07:00 I was already up and about. I seem to be making a habit of this.

After a wash and good scrub up, I went into the kitchen and sorted out the medication. While I was there I checked the loaf that I’d baked in the air fryer the previous evening.

This one is yet another candidate for the best ever loaf of bread that I have ever made – even better than the previous best. So much so in the sense that it had risen so much that I had difficulty lifting it out of its mould.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. There wasn’t much on there, but after the wretched night that I’d had, I was surprised that there was anything at all. I was dreaming about the Middle Ages and the knights on horseback etc with some kind of fortifications in the centre of something going back to that particular period but again, when I went to reach for the dictaphone the story evaporated and I could hardly remember a single thing about what I had been dreaming of up until that moment.

Judging by the timestamp, that was at the first awakening at 00:39. I’ve no idea to what this dream relates but my book’s author Arthur Hadrian Allcroft is nowhere near approaching anything vaguely near the Age of Chivalry.

Later on I was doing some 3D modelling during the night based on some human figures. I was trying to make something extremely lifelike and I must have spent hours at this dream just looking at this one particular figure trying to make all of the parameters exactly correct but it just didn’t seem to want to go. I stood there looking at this feeling that the more I did, the more it was all going wrong.

That’s a situation that I know only too well. quite often trying to amend something simply seems to make it worse and I’ll end up with something irrecoverable. There have been more than just a few occasions in the past where I’ve ended up scrapping some work and starting again from scratch. I went on an on-line course several years ago to perfect 3D animation but that was not really one of my more startling successes, to be honest. I don’t really have the patience for work like that.

The nurse was early today. He’s heard that it has been suggested that I go four times per week to dialysis. He’s a former dialysis nurse and he reckons in his experience that I should resist at all costs. He’s not surprised that I’ve been feeling so ill after all of the extended hours and rapid pumping just recently.

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

Our author tells us on page 382 that "neither record nor tradition speaks of any walls of Ida or fortresses of Penda, and the name of Alfred himself attaches to no earthworks such as are claimed by Caesar, by the Danes, or by the Devil. Even the arbitrary imagination which allotted all ” camps,” round, rectangular, and oval, to Briton and Roman and Dane severally made no provision for the Saxon. ^"

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that a couple of months ago we read the “mushroom report” of the Woolhope Naturalists’ Club and I quoted a discussion that had been reported there during one of their field outings, where at least one person claimed that some of the Iron Age hillforts around the Clun area of Shropshire were Saxon in origin.

Regardless of the fact that his opinion was dismissed at the time and subsequent events have shown that they indeed were not Saxon, Allcroft’s dismissal of “arbitrary imagination” making “no provision for the Saxon” is clearly unjustified.

Back in here I began to prepare for my Welsh lesson. What with one thing and another, at the dialysis centre I hadn’t done as much as I would have liked to have done so I was rather running behind.

However, we didn’t go very far into our course today. We’re running slightly ahead so we ended up having several very long discussions. I’m sure that we are shunted off into breakout rooms in little groups so that the tutor can go off to have a coffee.

That was the same with afternoon sports at school. When I learned subsequently of how much sports coaching children at other schools received, we were simply turned out onto the sports pitch and left to our own devices. I bet that the sports teachers disappeared inside for a smoke and a coffee too.

On the whole, the lesson passed really well and I was impressed. One of the things to which we had to listen was a television programme about sports for disabled people, and answer twelve questions. I really struggled with this but in fact not only did I come out top, but I even picked up a nuance that the tutor missed. I might not be doing too good overall with this course, but years of listening to these football commentaries is improving my aural skills.

That’s right, people. If I have my own trumpet I’m darn well going to blow it.

After the lesson was over I didn’t feel like any food so I had a relax for a while. Several whiles actually. I wasn’t in any hurry and I ought to be able to relax every now and again.

Later on though, I made a start on the next radio programme. This one is going to be complicated, and not helped by the fact that I don’t have to hand much of the music that I need. Even so, that won’t prevent me from planning it out and writing the notes. It’ll be a nice job to attack tomorrow, I reckon.

Tea was a taco roll with rice and veg. Not much of anything, but it was all the same nice to eat something that I enjoyed. The date bread and soya dessert was quite nice too, although the bread is too well-cooked on the outside. I was hoping that it would be something like a fig roll that I used to like. Never mind – Rome wasn’t built in a day.

For a change, I’ve finished everything quite early. I suppose that I may as well go to bed and try for a good sleep, and see how I feel in the morning. We’ll probably find that my health will pick up, only to be knocked back again in the dialysis centre when I go back on Thursday.

But while we’re on the subject of medieval knights and the Age of Chivalry … "well, one of us is" – ed … a few weeks ago I mentioned the story of the stately home just outside Crewe where a major pharmaceutical company has its laboratory.
With the big square tower on the corner, it’s ideal for these jousting tournaments that take place, and one of the regional heats of the North-West Area Jousting Competition was held there recently.
A few days ago I talked to one of my friends in the town. "How did it go?" I asked him
"Overall, very well" he said. "But the competitor from Crewe was disqualified"
"Why was that?" I asked him.
"Apparently he slew the damsel in distress and rescued the fiery dragon."

Tuesday 29th October 2024 – I HAVE LOST …

… a sock somewhere in this apartment. And with only 40m² in which to lose it, that’s some going.

Last night I took them off and stuck them over the back of my office chair ready for the morning, and when I went to pick them up, there was one on the floor and the other was nowhere to be found.

This is the kind of thing that you would immediately blame on the cat, but that’s rather difficult to do when I don’t have a cat, and we all know that there’s a sock goblin who lives in every washing machine, goblin up the socks but again that’s not likely to be the case seeing as my socks were nowhere near the washing machine.

But it’s not anywhere to be found, this missing sock. I have turned the place upside down to try to find it but it seems to have made good its escape and that would seem to be that.

It was just before going to bed that I took them off. That was rather later than I planned after everything that I had to do, and it annoyed me that I was so late yet again

Once I was in bed, I went to sleep quite quickly but awoke shortly afterwards and then spent a couple of hours tossing and turning before going back to sleep – something of a variation on the usual post-dialysis procedure.

This morning I didn’t need the alarm to awaken. In fact, when I looked at my watch to see what time it was, it was actually 06:59 – one minute before the alarm was due to go off. It goes without saying that I didn’t beat it to my feet this morning.

Gathering up my clothes to take into the bathroom, that was when I noticed the absence of a sock. “Never mind” I mused. “There’s a clean pair hanging from the octopus in the bathroom. I’ll find the missing sock in due course”. That was famous last words, wasn’t it?

While I was washing, I realised that despite what I said last night, I wasn’t all that disturbed by the events in the Dialysis Clinic and I’d survived the night without any serious issues. Live to fight another day, I reckon.

Back in here I sat down to transcribe the dictaphone note to find out where I’d been during the night. There I was having some kind of dream about being in bed, connecting up to dialysis machines, all that kind of thing. I was really surprised to find myself on the right side of the bed when I briefly awoke instead of on the left side where I’d just been in that dream. I didn’t remember too much of this but I suddenly awoke and was freezing cold again

That sounds as if it was exciting, dreaming about the Dialysis Clinic. Maybe it did affect me more than I thought just now. And if I’m dreaming that I’m cold, that’s worrying because in order to cover up my arms and not tear the plasters off by mistake, I’d gone to bed with a jumper on.

And then I was in Crewe and had to go to the centre of Brussels to see the doctor or to give him a form or ask him for something. I set off on foot but went a strange way and ended up going down Earle Street. I thought “I don’t have all that much time if I have to be there”. I had a think and thought that it takes me 30 or 40 minutes going this way then I have to cut through all the side streets and alleys etc. All in all it takes about an hour and fifteen minutes and it’s complicated but if I just went straight into the centre of Brussels down the Boulevard and around the Ring it would only take me an hour and fifteen minutes going that way. I set off clutching my form and a few other things, still trying to work out the times. I went past Zero’s house. Usually I’d be going in there, having a coffee, staying for a chat and generally making myself unwelcome but today I was in a rush so I just went to say hello as I was passing. We ended up having a good talk about T.Rex. I’d given Zero’s father a single or two in the past but suddenly he began to search among his CDs and then went through a box, a tin that looked as if it was a tin that contained CDs. He was obviously looking for a CD but in the end couldn’t find it. I said “don’t worry. It’ll do, whatever it is, another time”. Then of course I had to go but for some reason I couldn’t tear myself away but time was drawing on. I’d miss my slot at the doctor’s to hand over this form if I didn’t get a move on very quickly.

If I’m planning on walking from Crewe to Brussels in one hour and fifteen minutes I ought to be competing in the Olympics. Strangely though, if I walked to work from where I lived with Laurence and Roxanne and went through the alleys of Schaerbeek it did take one hour and fifteen minutes. But when I lived out on the edge of the city in Expo it was more usual for me to talk down the Boulevard to the city centre then around the Inner Ring and down the Rue de la Loi. That was, until I went to work out at the sub-office when it was back to the alleys of Schaerbeek again.

It’s not unreasonable to expect me to find it difficult to tear myself away from Zero’s house. Imagine being there and she being elsewhere. It’s a few times that that has happened and it’s rather depressing to think that I’ve missed her like that.

Later on, a friend of mine contacted me to ask if I wanted to buy ten American school buses. “Not particularly” I thought but then again I thought that it depends for how much they are on sale. Something like that could be extremely interesting so I resolved to make further enquiries. The first thing that I did was to check his bank account, making sure that the numbers that he quoted me came out as being to him so I knew that at least that part of the deal was going to be OK. This all happened while I was at work. I had two enormous files on my desk full of work that I was trying to resolve for a couple of people. It was really complicated and I was having to think about this. I had a young girl assistant who kept coming and going, taking one of the files to do some of the work that I’d pointed out. All of this was going on, there was one thing and then the other. Then the ‘phone rang. It was a voice saying “hello Eric. Se we’re off to Chicago at the end of the month”. I asked “are we?” and they replied “ohh are you going too?”. I didn’t have the first clue who it was but this conversation went on for quite a long time until suddenly he said something, then I realised that he was a guy whom I’d met in a pub while we’d been watching an American Football game. We ended up talking about the Superbowl – it would have been nice as an event but not the complete Carnival the way that it was shown on TV, how there had been so much controversy about the way that it had been shown that they were no longer showing it. The guy was really sad because he had a friend who was a lottery expert. They’d all won the lottery so this was why they were going but now with no American Football there was no longer a lottery. This conversation went on for hours like this guy was my best friend and I’d only met him just that once. We talked about the USA, we talked about Scotland, how they were OK to visit but only in small doses. I had to say that I was just totally bewildered about all of this, why I’d suddenly seemed to become this guy’s very best friend.

Just recently I’ve had to verify a bank account in some kind of similar circumstances, but not in connection with buying American school buses. One of my friends actually does own a retired school bus, don’t you, Rhys, and I’ve slept in it too when I was in South Carolina. But there have been several occasions when I’ve had long and complicated and quite often personal conversations with people either on the ‘phone or in real life and I’ve ended up wondering “who the hell was that?” because I didn’t recognise them or their voice at all.

Isabelle the nurse came round and she tried her best to motivate me and lift up my spirits. That’s not an easy thing to do when I’m down in the dumps but I was grateful for her kind words.

After she left I made breakfast and finished off my book. The geology lecture was very interesting and the book concluded with a list of walks where we could see the different strata. There were eight walks in all and if I were in the UK and in better health I’d go out and do them. But they aren’t for the faint-hearted. The author tells us "much time is taken up in surveying the country and hammering the rocks, and that a twelve miles’ walk as estimated by the map is a good day’s work for the hardiest geologist"

How many people these days would be prepared to have a twelve-mile walk? Add to that the fact that these walks start and finish at local rural railway stations, most of which fell victim to the Beeching Axe in the mid-60s and so you’d have even farther to walk these days.

The next book is going to be EARLY BRITISH TRACKWAYS by our old friend Alfred Watkins who we have met before.

He was at one time President of the Woolhope Naturalists and his book is a summary and enlargement of the talk that he gave to the Society in 1921.

This book is important because it was while researching it that he developed his theory of ley lines, a theory that led to his book THE OLD STRAIGHT TRACK that we read and discussed a couple of months ago and which created such a stir when people began to realise the significance of the subject that he was discussing.

His theory was that many prehistoric and not so prehistoric man-made geographical features and many natural geographical features lay along straight lines that stretched for miles across the country and even across the sea to mainland Europe, and he was probing for a reason why this would be so. He reckoned that there were so many of them that it was hardly a coincidence.

His theories were given a new lease of life by new-age people in the 1960s and 1970s and pushed way beyond any boundary that Watkins ever imagined. However his theories have been rubbished by modern researchers who have pointed out that you could draw the same straight lines through the position of such objects as telephone boxes

However, that’s not as strange as you might imagine. Watkins comments that his “ley lines” passed through such places as road junctions, many of which are situated at the crossing of ancient prehistoric trackways that might have been incorporated into the modern road network. And they passed through many churches too, which are quite often (more often than many people will admit) situated on ancient, prehistoric sacred sites. And where would you expect to find a telephone box? At a road junction or outside a church of course, which might correspond with the position of one of Watkins’ points on a ley line.

So whether or not you believe in whatever Watkins was trying to prove, his books make a very interesting and absorbing read.

Back in here I didn’t do much at first. It’s half-term so there’s no Welsh class so I just relaxed for a couple of hours and made the most of it.

Then, before lunch, I attacked the Welsh homework that I had planned to do today. That’s half of it done and I’ll do the other half at the weekend.

After lunch I made a start on another radio programme.

This one is also a special occasion and finding the music wasn’t easy. But I managed to track down everything that, although it’s not exactly what I wanted, will still make a good, relevant programme. And I began to write the text for it.

There are eleven tracks, which run to about one hour and twenty-eight minutes. Then there’s the text to go with it. So for one hour’s worth of programme there will have to be some serious editing.

So which tracks to leave out? The answer is to write and dictate the notes for all of them, see what I have and then see where I end up. It’s a shame though to leave some of them out because there’s some good stuff in there.

There was a break for hot chocolate and the last of the chocolate cake. Tomorrow I’ll be back on the crackers and hummus while I think of my next move.

With no stuffing, my tea tonight was rather different. It was still a taco roll but there had been a tin of refried beans that must, I reckon, have been lying around here since the building was built in 1668. So it was refried beans and salad on my taco roll tonight, cooked lightly in the microwave.

Refried beans reminds me of my trip TO SANTA FE IN 2002 when I drove all around the town looking for refried beans and eventually tracked down some spicy chili beans.

There’s not much of my apple cake left. Just enough for tomorrow so I may well on Thursday have a bash at a rice pudding and see how that works out. I may as well experiment with the air fryer and see what I can do

But not now as I’m off to bed ready to fight the good fight tomorrow.

But talking of telephone boxes … "well, one of us is" – ed … reminds me of a discussion that I had a while back.
With the rise of mobile ‘phones and the loss of all of these telephone boxes all over the country, where do superheroes go when they want to put their underpants on outside their trousers?
When we all lived in the Auvergne I had to plead with the mayor of Virlet to keep the one in our village so if anyone asked for my urgent help, I could dash into the telephone box and put my underpants on outside my trousers and then dash off to their aid.
But while we were discussing telephone boxes one of my friends mentioned that she’d seen my brother with his underpants on outside his trousers once
"Is he a superhero too?" she asked
"Not at all" I replied
"So why does he do it?"
"He does it" I said "because he’s two sandwiches short of a picnic"

Monday 28th October 2024 – I’M FED UP …

… of this blasted dialysis and the pain that it’s causing me. Everything that could go wrong at the Clinic did go wrong today and during my three and a half hours coupled up to the machine I was wracked with non-stop pain.

What made it worse was that of the three teams there, it was the team that I consider to be the best that was there on duty this afternoon.

There’s going to have to be some dramatic improvement in the way that things work in there because if it carries on like this, I shan’t consider the 18 hours per week that I waste going to the Clinic to be worth the effort.

It’s all very well saying that they are doing their best to keep me alive, which I’m sure they are, but if I have to spend the rest of my life in pain like this three times per week, then I’d rather not bother.

One consolation though was that I was in bed before 23:00 last night, which was really nice. In fact, it was a good half-hour before and that was something for which I’d been longing.

However, I failed to make the most of it. There I was, wide-awake at 06:00 and when the alarm went off at 07:00 I was already up and about.

In the bathroom I had a good wash and scrub up, even applying a liberal helping of deodorant. I know that Emilie the Cute Consultant doesn’t love me any more, but that’s no reason not to make an effort. I even changed my clothes.

Back in here I had a bash at transcribing the dictaphone notes. This was another one of these chaotic houses with lots of things happening and lots of people living there, all their lives intertwined etc. People kept on changing beds and bedrooms for some reason or other. I know that a couple of girls changed their bedding and ended up in a bed where I had slept. I pretended to forget that it was a bed where I was no longer sleeping, and I ought to be ashamed of myself, but I’m not!. Next morning there were the usual things that needed doing but I was quite looking forward to the evening because I hoped that the beds would be like they were last night and I could carry on. I had a whole variety of tasks that I needed to perform. Round about mid-afternoon I decided that I’d sit down and put my feet up for five minutes because I was tired after having had very little sleep the previous night. I sat down and put up my feet, and the next thing that I remember, it was bright sunlight and there were a lot of people about. I looked at my watch and it was 07:35. It must have been the following morning and I’d slept. I went in and everyone was having breakfast. I thought “I’ve missed my chance again, haven’t I?”. While I was wandering around looking for people I ended up in some woman’s room. She was sitting there. She’d had an accident, her glasses were broken and roughly where her glasses were broken there was a huge scar in her head. She looked quite a mess. I told her what had happened but of course I left out the part about in bed, just the part about me falling asleep. She thought that it was quite funny and told one or two other people. It was really quite funny too, especially the way that it stopped me doing what I was hoping to do.

Actually, it wasn’t all that funny. For once in my life I managed to Get The Girl … "not ‘arf ‘e did!" – ed … and then miss out on the second occasion due to crashing out. It really is unbelievable although regular readers of this rubbish will recall the unbelievable part of it being that I actually had some good luck for a change. Quite usually the second part of that affair is par for the course where I snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. But chaos? It sounds just like home.

And then the vogue of child painting was starting to come into effect, people having their children painted by well-known artists. Where we were living there was the occasional quest, seeing as my wife could do painting and I could write verses etc. Then of course we began to receive real-life commissions. One of them was this small child aged about three. I sat him down and tried to make him calm etc but it was clear that mathematics was just not his thing. He yowled and yowled all through this ceremony and made a right mess of this photo because there was never ever a correct moment to take it

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … although I’m asleep when I’m dreaming and dictating, I usually have some kind of vague recollection that is triggered when I’m typing out the notes. But for this dream, I have no recollection at all. Not a single bit. I’ve no idea at all what to make of this.

Finally, another dream in the long-running saga of new houses. I finally moved into my new house and was slowly settling in. I’d had a look at the one that I’d had in Winsford and they were in a terrible state so I had a look at the windows of mine and they could do with some attention if not replacing so I took out the two at the back of the house, the dining room and the rear bedroom. I began to clean up the one in the dining room and made a pretty nice job of it. I fitted it back in ready to paint but I noticed that now the sun had gone in and there were really heavy storm clouds. It was starting to rain so I took the ladder to go to fit the window back in the bedroom but the rain beat me. We had this torrential rain but I continued, trying to make this ladder work against the rear of the house but I was having so much trouble because I can’t do with ladders very well. The rain went and the rain stopped so in the end I tried to go round to the front of the house but I couldn’t work out how to get there. I tried a couple of ways but there was no obvious way to go round to the front.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that we’ve had several dreams about new houses, in one of which I had actually bought two new houses and couldn’t make up my mind in which one to live. But it did remind me of my house in Winsford and while I was at the Dialysis Clinic I came over all nostalgic about my little house. I wonder how my life and my future would have panned out had I not moved to Gainsborough Road in Crewe and stayed in Winsford.

But that’s not all, although you wouldn’t thank me for posting anything else, especially if you are eating your meal right now. As Thomas Allen Reed once said, "It was fortunate for my reputation that it never afterwards saw the light"

Isabelle the nurse came round and she collided with my cleaner, and they both came in together to assail me. My cleaner wanted my health card for the chemist and the nurse wanted to deal with my legs. They both did what they needed to do in here and left together.

After they had gone I had breakfast and read my book. We’ve now finished the speeches and we are having a lecture on geology. And I have to say that if anyone wants to take up the study of geology, they’ll do much worse than read this lecture because it’s fascinating.

In fact it’s the first geology lecture that I have ever seen where mathematical calculations are well to the fore, but if you don’t want to carry out the calculations you’ll have just as much interest looking at the diagrams.

Back in here I spent some time going through my live concerts and dating them as best as I can, and then I made a start on my Welsh homework. Even though there’s no lesson tomorrow (half-term) I want to crack on.

My cleaner came early to fit my anaesthetic patches, and it’s just as well because the taxi was early once more.

And here hangs a tale, because it was a driver who has taken me before. She’s usually quite chatty but today she hardly said a word and was rather snappy when she did. She had one of those auras that I could sense before she even said anything, and it wasn’t a good sensation at all.

At the Dialysis Clinic the nurse connected me up painlessly, but the machine didn’t work and nothing that she tried would make it.

With the aid of the portable x-ray machine they worked out that the needles hadn’t gone into the tube in my arm so they took them out and tried again. By this time though the anaesthetic had worn off.

Eventually they had a good contact but the machine still wouldn’t fire up. They eventually managed it but only if the pipes were in a certain position so they taped them in that position to my arm. At one stage I had five nurses and three nursing assistants standing round my bed and it’s a shame that I was in no condition to enjoy it.

That’s all very well, but you try lying like that for three and a half hours without moving your arm even half an inch. Eventually, they were so fed up of coming to deal with the plaintive wails of the machine every time I winced with pain that they rigged up a cradle with some kevlar padding.

Then I had no choice but not to move my arm

When I could I read through my Welsh and then finished off my “Curious Church Customs”. I’ll have to find a new book to read, something like HORRID CRIMES OF BYGONE CHESHIRE to see if any of my relatives are in it, and not as victims either.

The trick cyclist came by. She asked me if I was OK and when I replied that I was, she cleared off elsewhere and left me alone, which suited me fine.

With all of the excitement everything was running late, and when they came to unplug me, the compression on my arm failed again and once more the place was like a slaughterhouse

It’s no surprise that I was glad to see the back of the place and climb into the taxi to bring me home. It was another new driver and I ended up having to give directions after she took a wrong turn

My faithful cleaner was at her post again to help me out of the car but I managed the first flight of all thirteen steps without using my hand to lift my leg. If I can do that for a whole week I’m going to try the second flight up to my front door

And she had some news for me. One of the medicaments that I need is on special order and the chemist has had to send away for a box. So what’s the betting that that will be changed in a few days?

In the absence of a pepper, I made an aubergine and kidney-bean whatsit for tea. I had one helping with pasta and veg, and there are three more that are destined for the freezer

The apple-cake has almost all gone now, so I might persevere with a cake in the air fryer. The chocolate cake which I cooked and which is almost all gone now, ended up being something of a success despite the misgivings that I had at the start.

So now I’m going to be brave and go to bed, even though my arm is quite painful. I’ve warned my cleaner to take her ‘phone to bed and expect a phone call because I’m not convinced at all about how this compression is going to work. I don’t suppose that I shall have a wink of sleep.

But there’s a guy who comes to the Dialysis Clinic in an ambulance because he has lost both his legs.
He was looking on with interest at this pantomime this afternoon and eventually we struck up a conversation
"have you been coming to the Dialysis Clinic for a long time?" I asked him
"Ohh no" he replied. "I lost my legs during the War."

Sunday 27th October 2024 – I REALLY ENJOYED …

… my extra hour in bed last night. Even though I didn’t make it into bed for 23:00, it was still before midnight and when the alarm awoke me at 08:00 (or 09:00 in Summer Time) I had had over nine hours of uninterrupted sleep.

And it’s been a long time since I am able to say that. Perhaps they ought to change the clocks every weekend.

Mind you, how I’m going to cope when the clocks go forward next Spring I have yet to work out.

Last night after I’d finished writing my notes I had some dictating to do. And I decided, in a mad fit of enthusiasm, to attempt the two programmes that had been giving me great difficulty.

The other day I’d reviewed the notes and re-written them a couple of times, so now was the time to put my efforts into some serious work. After all, they’ve been hanging around for several months and I need them out of the way and finished otherwise time will over-run them.

By my estimation there would be 10.5 minutes of speech in one and a little under 4 minutes in the other so that means that before I edit, the rough dictated notes will be about 20 minutes or so.

Not that I was far out. I had just about 21 minutes of dictation that I can edit in the morning. On that note I went off to bed.

There was no rush to awaken in the morning, and it was rather a struggle to tear myself out of the bed.

Especially as it was absolutely freezing. So once I was finally up, I gave in and switched on the heating for the first time this winter. I had been hoping to hold out until November but that’s just not possible.

After I’d finished washing I came in here but I’d hardly sat down when Isabelle the nurse came in.

She asked how I was feeling after my ‘flu injection so I told her that I’d felt no side-effects at all. She went to have a look at my legs and was really pleased with the left one that looks as if it’s almost well again. The right leg still needs attention so she saw to that, chatting away as she did so.

After she left I made breakfast and read my book. The members of the Woolhope Naturalists have finished their discussion on funghi, which included dozens of recipes that showed just how time-consuming and labour-intensive work was in the kitchen in Victorian Days.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … the Society is famous for its attempts to incorporate mushrooms into the cuisine of the British kitchen and the country owes its members a great debt, because much of our use of mushrooms stems from this historic. meeting.

The meeting concludes with "Burke had said that the man who had made only a blade of grass grow on a spot where it had never grown before, was a benefactor to his country, and so was any man who added to its store of food. Dr. Bull did not indeed profess to grow Agarics, but he showed where they did grow, how they could be distinguished, and the advantage of using them as food at the season when they appeared in profusion. He had thus not only approved himself to the Woolhope Club, of which he was so indefatigable a member, but humanity might ultimately be indebted to him in calling their attention to a cheap additional supply to the daily resources of life."

And they were right too!

Back in here I finished off the dictaphone notes that I had barely started when the nurse arrived. It was Joe Walsh’s birthday shortly so the other members of the James Gang and I collected together and bought him a tankard. We collected some kind of verses that we needed to edit to make them more personal. I did that, and then I had to review them. When I was quite happy I remember throwing down my pen onto the desk. Someone picked up their head and asked “are you OK, Eric?”. Someone asked me if I had finished so I replied “yes”. They looked quite bewildered at me having finished. Someone else asked me if I was OK and I replied “well, the situation is not OK – it’s all to buggery” which caused a great deal of mirth and merriment around the table. Then we had to copy out these amended verses onto a piece of calligraphy card, cut it out and put it inside the bag. Seeing as no-one else could do it, I volunteered which was quite the wrong idea because my writing like that, this processional writing and doing things for birthday cards is bound to go all wrong. There’s bound to be a fault in it but as no-one else had volunteered to do it I said that I would

Firstly of course, what am I doing with Joe Walsh and the James Gang? And why would they appear now? However, the latter part is about par for the course. No-one else wants to do something so I do it and then everyone blames me when it all goes wrong. Been there, done that etc etc.

And then I was in Shavington. There was some issue about some payment there that someone should have made on Paypal. The interest hadn’t been added in. We made loads of enquiries about it. It turned out that for some unknown reason I hadn’t made the payment, at least, that’s what I thought. The local pub was the Paypal agent for here so I thought that I’d go to see it. I went on this old bike to the local pub, couldn’t find anywhere to leave the bike. It was a quick journey too, but in the ice I was convinced that I was going to fall at some point but I didn’t. I reached the pub but couldn’t find anywhere to leave the bike and the guy on security duty didn’t look too keen about me bringing it in. The bar was packed with people so I didn’t think that I’d be welcome there to start talking about Paypal. I heard someone going on about their illness, the things that they had to do. I dismissed it at the time. From there I had to travel onwards. I was in a train. I heard some people talking, and someone was saying that they’d heard this guy in a pub who had a terminal illness but he’d organised himself because he had so much to do and was dashing to do it all. Someone who was listening said “that happened to me” so I piped up and said “that had happened to me too”. We continued this lengthy discussion. I can’t really remember what happened after this. The rest of the dream seems to have been pretty much wiped out.

Going back to that dream later on I can remember now that when I returned home there was a woman there who gave me something that was a few thin layers of something or other. She asked me if I’d peel a layer off for her. It turned out that they were false fingernails so I began to peel back a layer but it broke. She was extremely upset about that. I couldn’t see why because these false fingernails were particularly cheap. They didn’t look expensive and certainly weren’t very durable so they can’t have cost very much.

At some point I was with a group of people. There ended up being four of us out of this group. We’d been taken down a ramp and walked out onto a river which was frozen solid with ice. I couldn’t think of where we were for a moment but someone told me that this was the Danube. It didn’t look like the Danube at all to me but when I walked out into the middle of the river on the ice I could see right down in the distance, the mountains, and I knew then that it was the Danube. It turned out that this was a talk about investing in Slovakia. I listened to this and became convinced that an investment here might actually pay off so I agreed to invest £1000. One or two other people were rather hesitant. They asked me why I wanted to invest. The idea is to spread your money about in different places because while one is down the other is up, and I think that Slovakia might be going up. That’s all that I remember about that dream too.

Slovakia is actually a country that is taking off in a big way thanks to its membership of the EU. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that we’ve been there before ON ONE OF OUR VOYAGES and I’ve been there on several occasions in the past, whether with coaches or even on our honeymoon when Nerina and I passed through Bratislava in the good old days of the Iron Curtain as we followed the Danube home on our way back from Hungary.

Finally someone died and there was some child’s clothing that was being thrown away. A friend of mine who had a couple of small children was quite badly off and was looking for some clothes for them. I told these people who were clearing the house to bring the children’s clothing round to my house so that my friend could come round to look through it. I’d take the rest of the stuff to the tip. On Friday night I was trying to find something to do. I’d rung round one or two friends and no-one was available so I thought that I’d have this stuff sent round and have that organised this weekend. I telephoned the woman and she agreed to bring the stuff. I must have been distracted because when I came downstairs I couldn’t believe my eyes. I could not move for children’s clothing, all over the ground floor of the house. The sheds and everything were completely and utterly filled. It was impossible for me to move about. I didn’t understand first of all how they had come here. I thought that they should have stopped bringing them a long time before this. This was absolute chaos. There was no way that I was going to move any of these, never mind my friend sort through them. I was looking at all this and thinking “what on earth am I going to do now?”.

This is probably one of the most confusing dreams that I have ever had. I’ve no idea what’s happening here. I think that had I been awake and this had happened, I’d have gone out for a meal and left it all there while I thought about it. But there’s no doubt – there’s some strange goings-on in my head during the night and I wish that the time when I was awake was as exciting as this.

Football was next – the highlights of last night’s games when we had another “let’s play it out from the back moment” and then the Scottish Cup when Stranraer took on Threave Rovers, four divisions lower in the pyramid.

It’s fair to say that Stranraer have not had a very good time over the last few seasons, but no-one expected them to be 2-0 down at half-time. However they pulled a goal back during the second half and as Threave tired towards the end, Stranraer scored two goals to save them some serious embarrassment

But here we go again. In the closing stages of the game, the superior fitness of the senior side pulls them through. I’ve seen this dozens of times but no-one else seems to have noticed it.

Then we had the notes that I dictated. That was how I spent the rest of the day.

They were complicated to edit and to sort out, and I had to move bits and pieces around, and eventually my estimates of 10:30 and 3:52 turned out to be 10:50 and 4:11 so my estimates aren’t far out.

For the first one I had to find an additional track and dictate (and edit) some notes but for the second I just had to merge the speech that I’d edited, fitting it to the front of the music that I’d prepared months ago, and edit out a few bits to make it fit, and there I was, by 16:30, all up and running with two of the most complicated programmes that I’ve done to date.

There had been a break for my salad butty at lunchtime, and now I went for hot chocolate and chocolate cake. I deserved it.

I spent an hour or so doing more of my Jersey stuff and then went to sort out the pizza – I’d taken the dough from the freezer at lunchtime.

While it was rising, I went into the bathroom. There had been some ginger beer and some Kefir fermenting in there for a couple of years. I opened it and tasted it, and it was all excellent.

What I did was to bring the kefir into the kitchen and filter it through a coffee filter. That’s in the fridge settling and I might drink it tomorrow. In the afternoon I’m at the hospital so if I have any unpleasant side-effects from the Kefir the hospital can deal with it.

But I’m really keen to start up my drinks production line again. I had a good thing going a few years ago, especially the ginger beer.

Tonight’s pizza was excellent. Another roaring success. I really ought to make more of them and have them more often.

So now that I’ve finished my notes, I have a few things to do and then I’m off to bed.

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about mushrooms … "well, one of us has" – ed … I’m reminded of the time that a mushroom walked into a bar and ordered drinks all round.
"Why are you doing that?" asked the barman
"No particular reason" said the mushroom. "I’m just a funghi to be with"

Saturday 26th October 2024 – YOU AREN’T GOING …

… to believe this – or maybe you are, I don’t know – but do you remember that new prescription that I had just the other day?

And so here we are just 10 days later, and it’s already been changed. Furthermore, the medication that he added in? That’s been changed too. After just 10 days. I don’t know what the chemist is going to say when my poor cleaner goes there on Monday

The issue is that some of these pills and potions aren’t a regular order but have to be ordered specially. And you can’t order just one packet, you have to order – and pay for – a box full. Reimbursement isn’t made until the medication is prescribed and collected by the patient.

So if the chemist has ordered a boxful of rare stuff and only handed out one packet, she’s stuck with the rest until the expiry date at which point she has to throw it away, and she’ll be well out-of-pocket

In my opinion, she will have every reason to be upset by all of this and I’m glad that it’s not me who has to go to face her

But anyway, that’s something to worry about for another time.

Last night I struggled into bed just about at the correct time, just before 23:00. And glad I was too to be finally in bed

There wasn’t even time to start my little night-time mantra before I was asleep, but it didn’t last. Not that I was cold, because I’d gone to sleep in my tee-shirt, but it was a disturbed night nevertheless. I was awakening and going back to sleep on regular occasions too numerous to count.

When the alarm went off at 07:00 I had a great deal of difficulty rising up out of my stinking pit and it was a very undignified stagger into the living room to collect some clean clothes.

In the bathroom I had a good wash and scrub up, and even a shave, and then all of the dirty clothes that were hanging about went into the washing machine and I set it off on a cycle (a very clever washing machine, mine).

Back in the living room I put away all of the shopping bags from LeClerc ready to hand back next time they deliver, and then put all of the drained carrots into the freezer ready for the next few weeks.

Back in here I made a start on the dictaphone notes, but I didn’t get very far before Isabelle came. With everything that I’d done, I was running late.

She gave me my ‘flu injection, and told me that the side-effects might be a painful shoulder and ‘lu-like symptoms for a very short while, so I need to have the Doliprane standing by, so I told her to clear off. This whole country floats on Doliprane – the slightest problem that arises and “I’ll pass you the Doliprane”. If you’re hurting, there’s a reason and masking the pain can just make the problem worse.

After she left I had breakfast and read my book. We’ve finished fossils and we’re now discussing the notes that the speaker who had proposed the mushroom book had prepared and brought to the meeting to present to the assembled multitudes.

And we’ve yet to find out anything about Mr Houghton’s “photographs of a very curious and interesting character”. I’ll be sure to tell you when I find out.

Back in here I finished off transcribing the dictaphone notes. I started off going to flower shows, inspecting flowers etc. I even in my dream sent myself a message although I’ve no idea what it was about but it concerns flowers etc and that’s mainly because everything that I’ve been discussing I’ve been reading about discussions of mixed lists

It’s quite impressive that I can even in a dream remember what’s been going on at the breakfast table. But what interest do I have in flowers? My friend Lorna once said that the only time I’d ever take a photograph of a flower would be if there were a car parked on top of it.

A couple of years ago I’d had a huge, blazing row with a member of public about something or other which had turned rather ugly. Anyway I thought no more about it but suddenly a group of policemen turned up and said that they were going to take me off down to the police station. I thought that it might have been for questioning, something like that, so I went along. I met my boss who was there. I asked him what was going on and he told me that this was going to be the hearing about remand and liability. I couldn’t understand this. I expected the proceedings to be similar to how they were in the UK. He replied “oh now. You won’t have bail. You’ll be remanded and the case will be dealt with tomorrow”. “That’s rather quick”. He asked “what are you going to do afterwards? Are you going back to your old job in the UK?”. I replied “I’m hoping that I’ll stay here”. He answered “well you can’t stay here if you’re going to do this. You’ll lose your job. For a start” he said, showing me a spark plug “this won’t be able to fit under your vehicle”. I couldn’t understand any of this. There was the guy with whom I had this altercation. The police turned to him and asked “do you still wish to go ahead with this?”. He replied “Yes” so two policemen took me inside. One of them asked “you don’t mind sharing a cell on your own, do you?”. I asked if there was going to be any bail. He replied “oh, no. The case will be heard in the morning. You’re remanded overnight. They took me down into the bowels of the police station like in one of these old films. There’s a room there with about fifty people in it on a load of benches and they just sat me on a bench at the back. There were several other people around and we were watching a procession that set off – all people in brightly-coloured clothes and flags of the various nations. A whole group of people from Sweden set off followed by some people from Croatia. I was all completely bewildered by this. I hadn’t the least idea about what was going on

I stepped back into that dream later on and was driving back to the house where I’d been just now. There was a pile of mud on the floor with some traffic lights on red. I didn’t see the line where to stop so I stopped where I thought it was and found that I was in the middle of the junction. I raised my hand in apology to everyone and drove off. As I raised my hand a Rover 820 saloon, a silver one with a pattern part wing on it pulled out of a garage. I thought to myself “that’s the guy with whom I’d had this row and that’s his car. I hope that he doesn’t think that I’m waving to him”. I carried on driving and eventually turned up at the house where I was supposed to be. I was looking for a parking place because parking on the street was not allowed. They were parking two-abreast on the pavement. I could see that outside the house where I was supposed to go there was some parking and there was also some room in the drive at the back.

All of the above is quite surreal, especially the flags. It reminds me of Carnaval here in Granville. I’m not sure why the Police would want to come knocking at my door these days though. I’ve been doing my best to keep my head down, but even so, there are some people who just won’t leave you alone

I was dictating into my hand again here, which is something that I do on the odd occasion. There’s a village just off the headland here called “Pentref-Uchaf”, the “Highest Village”. It was a tiny village. It was the village Open Day at the garage. One woman there learned how to fit gas bottles which she said was going to be interesting. I learned how to make mint drinks which was also going to be interesting. On the headland by the village was a big house where we were kept as prisoners. You could see by the trees which way the winds were blowing because the trees were growing in all funny shapes, all pointing towards the east. When I arrived at this house on remand I was asked which bed I wanted. I said that I didn’t mind. Everything they offered me, I said that I’d take whatever they give me, I’m not bothered. I was helping another inmate in the kitchen. He asked me which set of cutlery I wanted, the big one or the small one. I said that I wasn’t bothered. He replied that I was the ideal companion to be incarcerated with. We were trying to make a meal for people but we couldn’t find anything. The guy giving us the instructions took far too long and we’d prepared half of it by the time we’d finished. It was all really strange, the third part of this dream.

This prison bit – I hope that it’s not a forewarning of something. It seems to be rather persistent tonight. But last night I was dreaming in French and tonight it’s Welsh. When I start dreaming in Innu then you know that the World is at an end.

The washing was now ready so I sorted it out and hung it up to dry. And then back in here I attacked the correspondence. Everyone should now have had a reply, but if I’ve missed you, let me know.

My cleaner came early to fit my anaesthetic patches, and it’s just as well because the taxi came early too. We had to pick someone else up so we went round there but she wasn’t ready to come back yet to Avranches so we had a good drive down there on our own.

Being so early I was first in and first dealt with, but even though sticking the ports in me was painless the nurse missed her target so she had to take them out and start again. They are doing their best to torture me in there.

Once it was finally up and running they pretty much left me alone. However the doctor was another story. He came round and asked how I was and then told me about the medication. Later on he sent me the prescription.

As to why they are actually changing the medication I don’t really know. It doesn’t seem to me to be logical to change it so quickly before anything has had time to act.

Once they left me alone, I read my Welsh, listened to music and read my “Curious Church Customs”.

The taxi was waiting for me and we had quite a quick return, where I could only manage nine steps before I had to use my hands to lift up my legs – a backward step … "very good" – ed …

There was football tonight – Hwlffordd v Caernarfon, and what a dreary match that was. Hwlfford played the nicer football but Caernarfon’s approach was rather agricultural. The whole spark seems to have gone out of Caernarfon’s midfield this last few weeks

The final score was 0-0 and both teams were lucky to get nil. This was a match that I’ll forget quite quickly.

Tea was baked potato, vegan salad and a burger on a bun followed by apple cake and caramel soya cream. Nice it was too.

But now I have some dictating to do and then I’m going to bed. It’s an extra hour in bed in the morning and I want to make the most of it.

But the doctor at the Clinic didn’t only see me. He saw others too and after he left, I noticed that one patient whom he’d seen was crying.
"What’s the matter with you?" I asked him
"It’s the doctor" he said. "He’s told me that I have to take one pill every day for the rest of my life"
"There’s no need to be upset" I said "Lots of people have to do that. I’ve been doing it for nine years!"
"It’s all right for you" he said "but the doctor’s only given me six"

Friday 25th October 2024 – I HAVE HAD …

… a really good day today, and accomplished everything that I set out to do, with time to spare.

Tomorrow I am going to have a morning doing some correspondence. Several people are awaiting e-mails from me so I am going to do my best to try to answer them. Post is building back up again.

What probably contributed to at least some of the good day today was that last night I made it to bed before 23:00. It was really nice to be able to do that for once. I don’t do it often enough in my opinion, but then again that could be said about a lot of things.

Once in bed I was asleep quite quickly – but not for long. It was freezing last night and I seem to have gone in one swell foop from sweating profusely during the night to shivering like a jelly as a lorry is going past

In the end I gave up the struggle and put on my dressing gown. Not an ideal thing in which to be sleeping but it was the nearest thing to hand. I have a feeling that it’s going to be a cold winter.

It was quite a restless night too, which seems to be normal after a session at the Dialysis Clinic. I was wide-awake at 02:30, 04:00 and 06:00 and although I made an attempt each time to go back to sleep, at the latter time I failed miserably.

Consequently, when the alarm went off I was already in the kitchen making the bread. Another early start.

While the dough was festering away I went to have a wash, and then came in here to listen to the dictaphone. I’d been for a dialysis and that included having a bath (and wouldn’t that be nice?). When I left the Centre I’d left my earphones behind – a beautiful little pair that I’d received free when I’d telecharged or ordered something off the internet and downloaded it a while back. I thought that I’d never ever see those again because they were so nice and I’d never ever have another pair quite like them. I was completely devastated by the loss of my earphones

–telecharged? Downloaded, you mean. We’re dreaming in French again are we? And I did once leave my headphones behind at the Dialysis Centre not so long ago, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall. And it will be the end if I do leave those behind and lose them because they are quite lightweight and fold up making them quite portable. I have another pair here and there’s a third pair somewhere and I wish that I could find them.

Next was a party of Arctic explorers stranded out on the ice trying to return home, having all kinds of difficulties. One of the young officers was in charge of manoeuvring the huge sledge that they had, loaded with all of their possessions. It happened to catch on something, tilt over and go in through the ice, and was lost. The dream went on to say that he did the only thing that he could. He saluted, clicked his heels, turned and walked out into the night. He was never seen again, leaving the other three members to make their way home as best as they could with what they had left, which was almost nothing.

The British had a frightfully stiff upper lip when it came to Polar exploration. While other countries sent their teams out with sleds hauled by dogs, the British insisted on man-hauling them. And consequently while casualties amongst the foreign explorers were generally caused by events such as ship-sinkings and to being iced in, the British pulled their sled by hand all the way to their doom. They were driven by the spirit of Pierre de Coubertin, the founder of the modern Olympic Games, whose guiding principle was "the important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle, the essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well". Consequently it was the foreigners who conquered and the British who fought well, but died by the dozen. As the Canadian historian Pierre Berton put it, the British "failed to conquer because instead of adapting to the environment, they tried to bring their environment with them". The later explorers who discovered the camps of the party of Sir John Franklin, 134 strong that was wiped out to the last man, found dinner plates, silver service, dress suits, bottles of claret and all the luxuries that a British officer and gentleman would require at the dining table of his stately home while my American namesake, searching for traces of Franklin, was living in an igloo amongst the Inuit eating blubber off his sleeping bag with his bare hands.

Later on we were back living in Shavington. I was running my taxi business from there. I had a girl who worked the radio for me part-time at weekends. She was a young, rather unkempt girl. I took one of the cars off for a little spin round and came back. All the cats were loitering around the house so I stopped the car right by the front gate and climbed out. This girl came out of the house to see me. She told me that I ought to give her congratulations. I asked why and she replied that she’d won nearly £50,000 on the football pools. Of course I was really pleased for her. She replied that at last she could maybe have a flat. I asked where she was living at the moment. Was it in a hostel? She replied “no”. She was living in someone’s garage, which I thought was horrible. To make it worse, she’d lost her job during the day so she was loitering around and the owner of the garage didn’t like that. She was talking about buying a little snack bar too. I was really so pleased for her and so impressed. I asked her how many proposals of marriage she’d received already. She replied “none as yet but not many people know”. We had a little chat about the future, maybe she might start to run a snack bar or something. I told her that if she needed any help she could always ask me. But I was really genuinely impressed and genuinely pleased for her.

This was another one of these nice comfortable dreams that I have occasionally. But running my taxis from Shavington – not that that would be likely to work. I was glad really to leave Shavington. If Crewe is extremely parochial and small-minded, Shavington is ten times worse. But then, most small villages are.

Finally, Nerina and I had flown to Montreal and rented a car. We’d gone for a big drive round. We found ourselves down in the south-west corner of the USA in California. We were quite happy driving around through all these desert tracks and I happened to notice from the GPS that according to the GPS we were now in Mexico. I thought that we’d better make it back to the USA before we find ourselves in trouble here. We headed back to the border and this time we picked up the motorway that brought us back to an immigration centre. By now it was very late at night. Eventually it was our turn to be investigated. He gave my passport a cursory once-over and handed it back. But Nerina’s he examined much more closely and began to speak to her in Italian. She was rather put out by this, being caught unawares, but I replied in Italian, so the border guard and I had a little chat. We talked about beautiful women. Eventually he have Nerina back her passport and waved us through. But he was studying our entry stamps quite carefully. Of course we had Canada, and Canada to the USA but there was nothing about us going into Mexico because we’d driven through the desert. When we were back in the car I said “when we’re back home I’m going to work out that route that we took and sell it on eBay. I bet that I’d make a fortune”. Nerina replied “ohh no. I’m going to tell the American authorities so that they can block it”. We came into a small town and Nerina climbed out of the car and went to look at an American car. She hung her lantern on the bonnet and walked away. She pointed to another American car that was bashed and battered. She then tried a house door, and it was open so she went in. She settled down on the sofa and said “I’m not moving from here until I’ve had a sleep”. I replied “Nerina, you can’t sleep there! This is the USA! They’ll shoot you if they see you!”. “Well, I’m not moving”. I pleaded with her to move. I told her that I’d find a hotel somewhere. She said that she’d looked on the internet and there wasn’t a hotel with a room in the neighbourhood. I pleaded with her for anything that she’d move because she really would be shot if some American were to find her asleep in his living room but it was all to no avail

It recalled MY TRIP THROUGH THE DESERT IN 2002. What a trip that was! Driving past all of the sites that I’d seen in so many Westerns in the past. But there would be no question of leaving Nerina behind to face her doom at the hands of a paranoid American armed to the teeth. Believe it or not, I happen to like Nerina. Anyone who will put up with me for nine years has to be worth liking. What went wrong in our relationship was that I was in a bad place at a bad time fighting too many demons, and I fought quite a few more than I ought to have done. And of course, both of us were too tired and too stressed to learn to talk to each other. There were plenty of thoughts that we should have exchanged.

Isabelle came – and went. She was in quite a rush and didn’t stop around to talk. She’s promised though to film the events tomorrow morning in the town centre when they try to set up the market amongst the major roadworks in the centre.

After she left I made breakfast and read my book. We’re still at the annual dinner, the talk on trees has ended and we’re now talking about sheep, geology and fossils. And, apparently "Mr. Houghton had been kind enough to bring with him some photographs of a very curious and interesting character"

Photographs of a very curious and interesting character? Wouldn’t I have liked to have been at that meeting?

Back in here I had to sort out a few things, deal with my order to LeClerc and then I attacked the radio notes. It didn’t take me long to finish off the notes for the radio programme that I’d been preparing, and then I went to lunch – a salad sandwich on nice, soft fresh bread.

But the bread was another failure. I made a careful study of it today. I put the loaf in the oven at exactly the same spot that I put it last week, and once again, one side of it didn’t rise.

That’s the side nearest the front, and so I think that the door is fitting badly and there’s a draught of air coming in around it. If the temperature sender is at the back, that will explain why the temperatures are so messed up, because with the current of air, the temperature at the front will be much lower.

It’s a shame because I have a perfectly good oven in the van downstairs but it’s beyond me to bring it up here.

This afternoon I reviewed the notes that I’d written a while back for a couple of radio programmes. They are rather complicated and involved so I’d left them to one side until I had a lot of time to go over them. So that was this afternoon’s task.

Some of the stuff I rewrote, some other stuff I corrected and I reckon that barring accidents I have them ready to dictate. I might actually do these tomorrow night and then they’ll be out of the way. But I imagine that they’ll take some editing.

My cleaner had stuck her head in the door this morning to pick up a few things to take into town, and while I was reviewing my notes she came in and did her stuff. Now the place looks as if someone lives here.

Just after I finished my hot chocolate and chocolate cake the food delivery came, so I spent a very pleasant late afternoon dealing with 2kg of carrots making them ready to be frozen, and putting away the rest of the stuff.

It was actually a struggle to make up the €50:00 minimum order today. It seems that I have a good supply of everything that I need.

LeClerc had no peppers thought. So stuffed peppers are off the menu for the next couple of weeks. But they had aubergines on special offer and I took advantage, so it looks like we’ll be in for plenty of aubergine and kidney bean whatsits for a while.

Tea tonight was a nice salad with chips and falafel followed by apple cake in caramel sauce. So what shall I do when the apple cake is all gone. I have a fancy to see how a rice pudding would do in the air fryer

So having spent a pleasant twenty minutes looking for and finding the missing headphones, I’m off to bed

But before I go, seeing as we’re on the subject of the desert … "well, one of us is" – ed … I’ll tell you about the encounter I had with three men in the desert whose car had broken down and they were walking to try to find help.
One was carrying the radiator, the other a hub cap and the third one a door and so I asked them why
"I’m carrying the radiator" said the first "because if I become too hot, I can drink the water"
"I’m carrying a hub cap" said the second "because if I become too hot I can shelter in its shade"
"I’m carrying a door" said the third "because if I become too hot, I can wind the window down"

Thursday 24th October 2024 – THEY BROUGHT ME …

… home in an ambulance this evening.

Don’t ask me why, because I didn’t ask for it and I certainly didn’t want it. But nevertheless, there I was, strapped into a stretcher in the back.

My faithful cleaner thinks that it’s because none of the female drivers wants to bring me home on her own but I dunno. I’ve clearly upset someone somewhere if the only way that they are going to transport me is strapped down in the back of an ambulance

Actually, last night I might have been strapped down in bed because I certainly didn’t move at all, at least, not that I remember.

To cap it all, I was even in bed before 23:00. Not by very much, it has to be said, but enough to make it worth recording all the same. For some reason or other it didn’t take as long as it usually does to finish everything off. And there I was, tucked up nicely in bed.

Once I was in bed I didn’t need much rocking either. I was out like a light quite quickly and there I stayed until 07:00 when the alarm went off, and when was the last time that that happened?

When the alarm went off I had some kind of nurse living with me who was trying to organise me about going out because Tuesday afternoon I had to go to the bank and Wednesday afternoon I had to go somewhere. That involved a lot of organisation with the buses, all of that kind of thing. She was busy trying to make all of the necessary arrangements for me to go to do these tasks on the bus without having to use an ambulance or a taxi.

The only person who might do that would be Percy Penguin. She’s quite used to dealing with the elderly, the infirm and those people who might not have both paddles in the water but I think that even she would draw the line at sorting me out.

So at the sound of the alarm I hauled myself out of bed and made my way into the bathroom for a good scrub up and to prepare myself in case Emilie the Cute Consultant is there at the Dialysis Centre this afternoon.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. We were going on a coach trip somewhere. There was a big group of us on board this coach. I was on my own so I sat in a seat and everyone left me alone which was very nice. The coach stopped for a toilet break halfway along the route so I set up a coffee machine. With the cups that I had I started a little coffee production line. A girl came to help me and the two of us managed to keep it going with coffee. The driver said that he and the other two members of his staff had their own cups but I had to use the cups that I could find, which were not very good. Nevertheless, people drank it. There was one moment when I had to go to make some more coffee and I had to go to the end of the line where the machine was. I didn’t have the coffee so I shouted to the girl to bring the coffee back down quick but then found that I actually had the coffee in my hand. There was that particular moment but that’s all that I remember about this dream

Wouldn’t it be nice to find out how to keep 53 people happy with one coffee machine. I suppose that it’s the 21st Century equivalent of “five loaves, two fishes and a pot of tea for five thousand, please”.

There was an earlier dream about someone in the theatrical business who had a small, domineering personality. He had a lot of affairs with different women. He was at one time with a Japanese or Korean girl who was a member of a dancing troupe but he abandoned her for another woman. The newspapers said something like “he’ll certainly notice the difference with this large, overbearing Spanish woman compared to the girl he had previously who had barely entered puberty” that sort of thing but I can’t remember very much about that dream either except nothing really.

That was rather a strange thing to dream, and I can’t think of where it might have any relevance in anything particular.

In that last dream I did absolutely everything towards this play, writing and directing etc. The only thing was when it came to the orchestra, conducting the orchestra I had to step aside and let someone else do that because of some kind of agreement with the particular Trade Union that covers the engagement of musicians in their practical sphere.

And the same with this. A few more things to add to my nocturnal talents. If only I had someone who could organise and motivate me to do these things for real.

Hurricane Isabelle blew in a little later. She didn’t have time to give me my ‘flu jab. It’s booked in for Saturday when she has no blood tests to do. It’s no surprise really that she’s snowed under with requests for blood tests right now. She has “the touch” whereas her oppo doesn’t and people are beginning to realise it.

After she left I made breakfast and read my book. Our Naturalists are busy roaming about the estate of the President examining his trees, of which there are many historic ones.

But it’s a shame what subsequently happened to his estate. His family fell on hard times and it was sold, eventually becoming a hospital. It was used for severe cases during World War II and then abandoned, the house being blown up by the Royal Engineers in a training exercise in 1959

Back in here I spent the morning tracking down the dates of more concerts and, as usual, SETLIST.FM came up trumps yet again and helped me identify a dozen or so

My cleaner turned up at lunchtime and helped me fix the patches on my arm, and then the taxi came early for me. It’s a good job that I was ready.

We drove all the way to Avranches and at the roundabout the driver turned right towards the town rather than to the left to the hospital.

He quickly realised his error and performed a U-turn and a voice in the back said "did you forget something?". We’d gone all that way with a passenger in the back and I had never noticed at all.

With being early this afternoon I was first in at the clinic, thus first to be dealt with, which made a nice change.

A doctor came to see me, but only for two minutes and she didn’t seem to be too interested. And apart from the coffee, that was that. I read my Welsh notes, listened to music and finished off by carrying on with my “Curious Church Customs”.

They unplugged me quite early and I was free to go. That was when we had the pantomime about me trying unsuccessfully to climb into the ambulance.

After several attempts they gave up and brought out the stretcher.

We drove back in perfect silence to here where my faithful cleaner was waiting, and she watched as I made it up all thirteen of the first flight of stairs. That was really impressive, considering how much difficulty I had had with the ambulance.

Tea tonight was different. There had been a can of beansprouts festering on the shelves since it was triumphantly carried off the Ark by Noah, and so I made myself a spicy stir-fry. In fact, everything will be spicy now that I have a jar of chilis.

It was hot, and delicious, especially followed by apple cake and caramel-flavoured soya cream.

So now I’m off to bed for a nice early night, as it looks as if I’m going to have a visit tomorrow.

But while we’re on the subject of Noah … "well, one of us is" – ed … it reminds me of the teacher in Primary School discussing certain Biblical events with the children.
She asked them "do you know who Noah’s wife was?" and one boy at the back of class raised his hand
"Please, Miss" said the boy "I do!"
"So who was it, little Johnny?" she asked
And the boy replied "please Miss, wasn’t it Joan of Arc?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After she left I made breakfast and read my book.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tuesday 22nd October 2024 – MY FAITHFUL CLEANER …

… is a heroine and I really don’t know what I’d do without her.

The last batch of hummus that I made exhausted my supplies of tahini and I asked her if she fancied making a call at the Bio shop while she was out and about. Not that there’s any urgency because this batch will last me a month or two at least.

However midway through my Welsh lesson I had a message "is this what you want?" with a photograph attached.

As I have said before just recently … "and on many occasions too" – ed … things are looking up at LeClerc and their vegan range is slowly improving. And my cleaner had found the tahini.

It’s absolutely certain that it was never previously in stock – I’ve trawled the place time after time whenever I could – but there it is, on the shelves and properly labelled.

They had two jars of the stuff on offer today and it goes without saying that now they have none at all. It remains to be seen if they pick up and reload the space on the shelf, or whether that was all they intend to supply. My cleaner will keep her eyes peeled.

But if they are going to have more, then the World’s my lobster. Add that to the vegan cheese and the vegan sausages, and what else do I really need?

Not only that, she found a jar of hot chilis and so it really is “all systems go” for the next batch of hummus and I’m well-impressed.

Having said that, there wasn’t much “go” last night and once again I had a rather late night going to bed. And although I was asleep quite quickly, I was drifting in and out of sleep for quite a while.

Once I was finally asleep, I stayed asleep until all of … errr … 06:15 when I awoke, drenched in perspiration yet again and I’m fed up of this.

When the alarm went off at 07:00 I was drying myself off after having had a good wash. I was already up and about and had been for some time. There’s no point in lounging around in bed on a weekday when I can’t sleep.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was on a railway station, hoping to take a short cut across the freight lines to go back home. I had some kind of flapjack that I wanted to eat on the way. As I was trying to cross, a train came in, an ancient steam train coupled up to some ancient BR MkI carriages, completely out-of-place. So I waited, and a voice said in my ear “it’s not like a modern 53-seater, is it?”. I looked round, and it’s a guy whom I knew from the coaches. I’d worked with him at Shearings. We made some kind of joke and I began to move away but he began to follow me. The last thing that I wanted was for someone to follow me so I made some excuse that I had to go to some kind of museum. He exclaimed “ohh that’s strange! I’m going there! I’ll come with you” and followed behind me. I told him some strange story about how I had a job working for a French coach company. He said that he knew the company and that he’d applied there too. I thought “oh God! This is going to go on for ever, isn’t it?” and I still couldn’t shake him off. We reached the museum and I thought “the museum’s closed so we can’t go in”. He replied “ohh we can still go in”. There he was, clinging on to me as we walked in. I asked him if he wanted a coffee. He replied “no” so I went off to buy a coffee thinking “if I’m not careful he’s going to be stuck with me for the rest of the day and I’ll never make it home”

This dream started off with an aerial shot of a huge locomotive repair yard and the commentator told people that it was Crewe. However it was nothing like the Crewe repair sheds that I knew. I imagine this this dream was in Crewe anyway because there are freight avoiding lines between the station and our old family home

As well as that I can also remember the name of the company. It was called “Silver Degouey” and they had a fleet of silver Kässbohrer-Setra coaches of the type that were common in the late 1970s and early 1980s

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that we seem to dream a lot about trains and railway stations, although not so much in the very recent past. Does this mean that we are going back on the rails again? But as for the passenger, much as I like company every now and again, it always seems to be right at the wrong time that I end up with someone clinging to me like a limpet and won’t let go.

There was plenty of stuff that I could be doing to keep myself amused while I waited for the nurse. Part of that was sorting out the prescription for my faithful cleaner who sallied forth into town afterwards on her quest for medication and shopping.

It was Isabelle the nurse who came today. Apparently she’s on duty for nine days from today and it will be nice to have a smiling face. She chatted away but didn’t say much of any importance.

After she left I made breakfast and carried on reading my book. Today the naturalists are visiting the Bury Ditches near Clun.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall one of our previous authors write so insistently about the history of these earthworks saying that they were Anglo-Saxon in origin and contained the remains of wooden buildings relating to their palaces. He evidently took the idea from the report of the Naturalists because the guy leading the party and giving the talk – some 20 or so years earlier – was also very strongly of the opinion that the Bury Ditches were Anglo-Saxon in origin.

That was however not the opinion of everyone. The secretary who took the notes of the outing comments that "the time was very short, and no discussion was attempted; if it had been there is no doubt but that very different views would have been elicited" which is the politest way that I have ever seen of telling someone that they are talking a load of nonsense.

He concludes the report of the meeting by saying "There was only time, however, after the repast to give the thanks of the meeting to the able lecturers of the day, which was done with a pleasant allusion to the ample scope for the differences of Archaeologists and their necessarily-interminable nature". There’s really nothing at all like grinding it in, is there?

Back in here I revised for my Welsh lesson and then went to class. And once more, everything seemed to pass really well and I’ve no idea why. I quite enjoyed the lesson and it’s nice when that happens. I ought to do it more often.

There was an interruption, as I mentioned, when my faithful cleaner sent me a few messages about the tahini but apart from that there was no issue at all.

After lunch and taking possession of the prizes from LeClerc (the chemists’ stuff will arrive in a day or two) I finished off choosing the music that I need and I’m halfway through writing the notes. I have eight tracks, which run to … gulp … one hour and sixteen minutes and then there’s the text that will need to be dictated.

So what do I leave out to bring the programme down to sixty minutes in total?

The answer is that I have no idea. And so I’ll write everything and dictate everything and then see what I have. That will give me a much better idea of what I need, what I want and what I can leave out.

In the middle of all of this I had my hot chocolate and then processed the hummus in the fridge by adding in the chilis. And now there are two more tubs joining the two others from Sunday in the freezer With the one left over and remaining in the fridge, that will keep me going for a month or two.

Tea tonight was, as usual, a delicious taco roll followed by apple cake and coconut soya cream, and then there was a mountain – and I do mean “mountain” of washing up to deal with

So having written my notes I’m off to bed. It’s a shower day tomorrow of course, in which I thoroughly soak myself and try to make myself pretty … "a hopeless task" – ed … not forgetting that I have to attempt to put on my elasticated socks. That should be fun.

But before I go, let me tell you about the chemist’s where my cleaner goes.
It’s actually run by two women. And when my cleaner was there just now, a man came in.
"Can I see the chemist, please?" asked the man
"Young man" said the chemist, pulling herself up to her full 5’5″” "I am the chemist!"
"Well is there a man to whom I can talk" asked the man
"Young man!" said the chemist again. "I have been running this pharmacy for 35 years. I promise you that there is nothing that I haven’t heard so there’s no need to be embarrassed"
"Well" he said, blushing "every time I see a woman I have an uncontrollable urge to make love to her and the feeling doesn’t die down for several days. Is there anything you can give me?"
"Wait there" she said, going into the back.
And five minutes later she was out again
"I’ve talked to my sister" she said. "We’ve worked out that we can give you €250 per week and a half-share in the business."

Monday 21st October 2024 – I’M STILL ACHING …

… just about everywhere that it’s possible to ache, and probably a few places where it isn’t possible either.

Mind you, I have to admit that I’m not aching quite as much as I was when I awoke this morning. I thought that a good night’s sleep might have helped everything ease off seeing as I was lying comfortably in bed, but it wasn’t to be.

A longer sleep might have been nice but once again, I missed by some considerable distance my target of being in bed by 23:00. It’s still taking longer than I would like to finish off what needs to be done, and there’s the added problem with the aches and pains that make me reluctant to move from my comfortable chair.

But once in bed I was soon asleep and I can’t recall any awakening until about 06:15. And even then, I turned over and went straight back to sleep again. When the alarm went off I was in a pub in London watching a pub band play. There were Keith Ginnell and his wife on keyboards. His wife had been a famous model in the past, Vicky somebody I think. On drums was Keef Hartley and the singer was Magic Michael. He was too tall for the stage and had to bend his head to fit under the ceiling while he was singing. he was singing that song “Giddy up, Bobby” and I was thinking how easy that was to play when I thought about it. Then I went to the bathroom where I overheard some kind of dispute going on between Keef Hartley and Keith Ginnell. I thought that it was a shame that they were arguing like that because they were a really good group.

What I didn’t dictate was that I was staying at that pub but had to clear out my room ready to leave. And in the WC I’d bolted the door behind me but nevertheless someone still came in and walked past me, and I wondered how they had managed to do that.

Now you are of course going to ask me who Keith Ginnell is and what the song “Giddy Up Bobby” is all about. And the answer to both questions is that I don’t have any idea at all. I know who Magic Michael is of course, and who doesn’t? He was one of the hangers-on with Hawkwind back in the early 70s and later on had a few singles out of his own, most of which sunk without trace. Keef Hartley was of course one of John Mayall’s drummers and later on had a group of his own, but Keith Ginnell and “Giddy Up Bobby” escape me completely.

What’s so surprising is that I could actually remember them.

While we’re on the subject of remembering … "well, one of us is" – ed … I didn’t forget someone’s birthday yesterday. Not at all. It goes without saying that I won’t ever forget it

So I staggered to my feet in a cloud of agony and slowly inched my way into the bathroom where I had a good scrub up and even a shave to make myself look pretty, even though it will take more than a scrub-up and a shave to make me look pretty.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. And there was some stuff on there too. There had been a big riot somewhere. The soldiers were all hemmed in at some kind of barracks and had been completely overwhelmed. They decided that what they would so as a desperate kind of last stand for all those who were fit enough was to make some kind of fighting arrowhead and charge out of the building on their horses hoping to break through the enemy lines. So they charged out in this arrowhead and almost broke through but were held somewhere down at the bottom of Oak Street and Mill Street in Crewe. The fight raged round there for an hour or two when suddenly the enemy surrendered and gave up the fight. I’d been watching the events unfold and after the events went peacefully some kind of big American convertible, a huge car with a woman driver pulled up and said “taxi for Hall”. I climbed in and it took me off down Wistaston Road/Victoria Avenue. I was chatting to the woman – she’d been in London earlier in the day in the fog, just socialising. I told her that I’d been to Scotland and it really was foggy there. She was telling me how she did taxiing part-time, how she enjoyed it. She was working for Orange Cabs but she didn’t have a card with her number on for me so we carried on chatting like that and eventually she brought me home

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that we were AT THE SITE OF THE BATTLE OF LITTLE BIG HORN with LITTLE BIG ANTLERS a few years ago and the question that was going through my mind then was “why did Custer and his men dismount?”

On foot they would have no chance of escaping the native Americans, as events were to prove. Knowing that there was a detachment of soldiers with the baggage train in the vicinity, if they had formed a “fighting head” – a triangular-shaped formation, they stood a very good chance of piercing a surrounding line of enemy and the weight of their charge would have pushed at least some of them through the encirclement and on to safety at the far end of the ridge

But as for riots going on in Crewe, it’s extremely unlikely. The people there have long-since lost any free will and initiative.

The nurse came early and caught me off-guard this morning. He refrained from upsetting me, which was good, and now he’s gone off duty for a week which suits me fine. It gives me a chance to gather up my sang-froid ready for the next bout.

Still, the earlier he comes, the earlier he goes and I could crack on with breakfast.

Today, the Woolhope Naturalists are having a lecture on Space and Interplanetary rotation, sitting at a picnic around a waterfall. Some of their propositions have long-since been contradicted by later discoveries but it’s interesting all the same to hear the state of knowledge in 1867.

What’s also interesting is that the 48 members present had to go into the back of beyond to visit this waterfall, and not only did the railway company agree to stop the train at an isolated spot, it built a railway platform and had three gangers ready to help the party alight.

Just imagine that today! It would take them ten years to build the platform, even if they were so disposed to do so, and there would have to be all kinds of Health and Safety surveys and inspections first.

And this “Health and Safety Culture” – do you know what’s brought it on? It happened the day that Solicitors were allowed to advertise.

Back in the old days if you stumbled on a pavement and hurt your toe, you shrugged your shoulders and moved on. But once we began to see the "had an accident? It might not be your fault. Contact us for a free interview" advertisements, everything changed overnight.

The Naturalists were also visiting the famous church of Capel-y-ffin, a site that became notorious later on with the arrival of “Father Ignatius” and then the infamous Eric Gill, whose famous sculptures and type design did little to counter the later unsavoury allegations about his private life that were to occur once his biography was published after his death.

Having finished all that I came in here and finished off as far as I could (because some of it requires access to a television) and then carried on selecting music for the next radio programme.

My cleaner turned up to help me fit my anaesthetic patches and while she was here I gave her my orders for the supermarket tomorrow. And the taxi for the Dialysis Clinic was driven by a young guy and we had a very lively chat all the way down to Avranches.

At the clinic they didn’t hang about to plug me in. The first one hurt like hell but the second needle, I didn’t feel it at all.

The nurses asked if I had any pain anywhere so I mentioned the issues that I’m having. They gave me a Covid test and that was that. No doctor came anywhere near me to make further enquiries so I don’t see the point in asking.

As well as the doctor in charge, Emilie the Cute Consultant was there too and although she went to see a few other patients, she kept well away from me. Julie the Cook did likewise, so she must be a regular reader of this rubbish too.

I read my Welsh and spent some time reading, and I also had a little doze. While I was away with the fairies, being careful to avoid drawing the attention of the editor of Aunt Judy’s Magazine to my activities, I was on a train in Tunisia. A Tunisian woman in local dress came to sit next to me. I suddenly realised that I hadn’t validated my ticket so I stood up and went to look for a machine. There was none in my carriage and the next one was compartmentalised with the curtains drawn and what looked like discreet security guards. I turned to a guy in the vestibule of my carriage to ask him. He told me that you don’t validate it – the ticket inspector does as he or she passes – so I went to resume my seat. However it looked nothing like it did when I left and the Tunisian lady wasn’t there

There was a similar issue about TICKETS ON TRAINS when I was in Tunisia a few years ago, and I can well-believe the presence of Security Guards and curtained compartments on certain trains.

They unplugged me and threw me out into the torrential rain where my taxi was waiting, and we had to wait for the guy who lives in Sartilly. And he had already reserved the front seat

My driver was friendly enough but didn’t say too much and as we stopped outside the building, the rain stopped, the sun shone and we had a rainbow.

My cleaner watched me upstairs, and it was a retrograde number of steps today, no surprise with me feeling not too well. And I was glad to sit down and relax for an hour.

Tea was a lovely stuffed pepper with pasta followed by apple cake and soya cream and now I’m ready for bed.

But the subject of having pains everywhere reminds me of the guy who went to the doctor.
"Every time and everywhere I touch myself" he said "I’m in absolute agony."
And he proceeded to prod himself in his leg, his arm, his torso, his neck, his posterior, everywhere. And each time he winced in pain.
The doctor looked at him for a moment and then took him by surprise, prodding him in his ribs
"Did that hurt?" asked the doctor
"Well, actually doctor" said the man "no it didn’t. What does it mean? Am I dying? Do I have a serious problem?"
"Not at all" said the doctor. "All it means is that you have broken your finger."

Sunday 20th October 2024 – RIGHT NOW I AM IN …

… absolute agony.

Since 17:00 this late afternoon I’ve been on my feet and my knees are giving me complete misery. I wish that I’d never been born, feeling like this.

Not only that, I woke up this morning … "♫dih dah did dah DAAH♫" – ed … with aches in just about every region of my body, and they are still there now. I’m in a bad way and if I’d been a horse I would have been shot long ago.

And there I was, thinking that it was going to be a good day today.

After all, although I missed my 23:00 deadline, it wasn’t by much and in any case, today I have a lie-in until 08:00 seeing as it’s Sunday.

It didn’t take long to dictate the radio notes that I’d written. There wasn’t much of them this weekend and that makes a change. But I was soon in bed and after all of my exertions during the day I didn’t need much rocking

There I lay, in perfect repose, with nothing whatever that disturbed me until all of … errr … 07:15. And when the alarm went off at 08:00 I was already in the bathroom scrubbing up. I’d given up the idea of going back to sleep a long time before that.

The nurse came round of course. "Ohh what a lovely loaf!" he said. "Have you been baking?"

It’s that kind of comment that is really getting on my nerves, especially as the loaf is a long way from “lovely”. One of these days he’s going to receive THE AUSTIN POWERS TREATMENT.

After he left I made breakfast and read my book for a while. The naturalists are discussing climate change – one of the very first, in fact the earliest, reference that I have seen of it in a layman’s work. They note that the theory is in its early days and how it’s subject to ridicule.

The ridicule is something that you could have understood in 1867 but it’s totally beyond my comprehension how anyone today could ever doubt the issue in the face of the overwhelming evidence that exists.

They are also theorising on “erratic boulders”.

An erratic boulder is a rock of a completely different geological structure to those around it, and you find them stuck in the middle of fields and other places completely out of place and out of character.

Their geology back in 1867 was in its infancy so they are theorising, and coming surprisingly close to the truth. The fact is that they are picked up by an advancing glacier and transported in the ice. When the glacier melts, the boulder drops out and is deposited. We saw dozens and dozens out in the Arctic

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that a few years ago when we talked about the Titanic disaster, there was the American senator who asked “what is an iceberg composed of?”, and was largely ridiculed for his question.

The fact of the matter though is that he wanted it put on record that there are sometimes boulders in an iceberg when a glacier carrying an erratic boulder has calved off an iceberg with an erratic boulder embedded in it, a boulder that might have sprung the side of the ship.

After breakfast I came in here and began to transcribe the dictaphone notes. Our Year at school had gone off on a field trip somewhere. I was wandering around, feeling not too well, feeling a little down in the dumps as usual when I bumped into a couple of my friends. We arranged to meet later for lunch but I wasn’t sure whether I was going to be still here by lunchtime so it was all very doubtful. One of them, I had a letter to give to him but I didn’t have it on me at that particular moment – I’d have to go back to fetch it. Wandering round a little later on I bumped into some more friends of that particular guy. We began to chat. They weren’t all that welcoming, as if there was something wrong between them and me which there probably was. In the end I happened to mention “are you seeing the other student for lunch?”. One of them said that yes, he was, and the rest of them were too. “Good” I replied. “In that case I have a letter to give him. Could I give it to you?”. This boy was clearly put out of his stride but he was the kind who would never refuse to do something so he reluctantly agreed. I had to go next-door to find it. That was walking into one of the lean-tos of my house in the Auvergne – the one where I slept during the winter of 2007. Of course the snow had come in through the roof and it was snowing that way. It was freezing cold too and very uncomfortable, but I did manage to find the letter. I folded it into three making sure that all the text was on the inside, then handed it over to this boy. Folding the text over to the inside meant nothing because I was sure that one of the others would take it and read it but that would be a matter for them, not for me.

At school I wasn’t particularly popular. I tended to have friends by default. I didn’t really fit in anywhere. But going back to the happy time that I spent – two years living in that lean-to that was 2.0×3.2 metres, I learned an awful lot and believe it or not, I was really quite happy in there

Later on, while we were out we’d had a few business ideas and ended up going to put them to a bank manager. I didn’t agree with some of the things that were in the prospectus but never mind. When we came to show the bank manager a demonstration of our plans, everything that we did simply went wrong. We knew that it was a total wash-out but the bank manager seemed to be quite amused rather than angry. I thought that there might possibly be something to salvage from here. We went to have another chat and I decided that I’d go home. I had a long way to go and was only on a 50cc moped and had to do it all at 30 kmh. I said that I’d go for a bag of chips on the way home. My friend asked me if I would fetch a bag for her husband. I thought “yes, okay, I can do that and I’ll clear off quickly”. Then at the chip shop I met a man who was talking about vans. I joined in the conversation and in the end the two of us were talking. He’d just bought a Transit from the auctions. I asked him to which auctions he went and he said either Leicester for vans or to Shifnal. I asked if they were any good so we had a long conversation. In the end he said that he would have to go. At that point a woman pulled up. She was one of the people with whom we might have been interested in entering a partnership. I began to talk to her. It was clear that some things were interesting her but not others. We had an extremely lengthy conversation. In the end she decided that she had to go. Of course I had the chips and I thought that these are going to be stone-cold by now and by the time that I hit the road it’s going to be 22:00. This is going to be an awfully late night. I leapt onto my moped, raced away from the shop and at a set of traffic lights almost collided with the rear of a white Ford Cortina MkII. In fact I ended up falling on the boot lid. The woman who owned the car didn’t seem to be in the least bit concerned and waved me on. I carried on but was then held up by a level crossing. There was a line in the north of the city that was used about once per week for the movement of goods. Of course it had to be right now. I was sitting at this level crossing watching this slow goods train past, thinking “this is just my luck. Everything is seeming to happen to delay me on this particular trip. I have to return home but I don’t have a clue when”.

This is typical, isn’t it? Everything going wrong at the crucial moment. And ohhh! Happy days at the car auctions at Prees Heath, Silverdale or Longton. We had a calendar of what went on when and I made a little money by moving cars around from one auction to the other at one time.

As well as that, I did have a 50cc Honda Melody scooterette when I lived in Brussels. I remember one night late on going for a ride and ending up in Leuven, coming home as the dawn began to break. That was the scooter that I taught Roxanne to ride.

Finally, I was somewhere in the far North of Canada where I’d been with Strider in one occasion. I’d slept overnight in the back and in the morning I’d set out through the wilderness but as I went a little further it became a very green English countryside. I thought “this isn’t right for Labrador at all”. As I drove, the road became a little worse and a little worse and more narrow. It became a kind-of rough tarmac road. It went down a steep hill, and halfway down was a school on the right that said “Freetown School”. I thought to myself “I bet it isn’t free”. A little lower down was the sign for the town that said “Freetown, Québec”. We went over a hump-backed bridge which was a canal and carried on down. There was a bridge over the river all surrounded by willow trees etc. On the way back up the hill on the other side I could see a caravanette in the distance with two or three cars behind it. Eventually there was just one car behind it, an old Morris Minor. He stopped to turn right into a car park, holding up the traffic. We had to wait behind him. When he finally moved out of the way I could go forward, and found that there were now two more cars between this caravanette and me. I resigned myself to staying behind this caravanette for as long as it would take. I still couldn’t take out of my mind how everything has suddenly changed to an English rural green countryside when I was supposed to be in Labrador.

That was a great time, that trip DRIVING AROUND LABRADOR IN 2015 where I spent every night but one “sleeping out” and having creatures fighting to get into Strider’s truck cap with me.

And turning right into a car park, holding up the traffic? Are we driving on the left then, as in the UK?

While we’re on the subject of Labrador … "well, one of us is" – ed … I’ve had a rather strange, depressing and regrettable communication that has made me even more entrenched against this system of incestuous academia that seems to exist.

In July last year I had a note that another researcher had quoted me in something that she had submitted for publication, so I wrote to her asking for the details (as is my right) and for a copy of the work (which is an academic courtesy).

She wrote back to me today, 15 months later, to tell me that she can’t remember what she wrote and "Finally, there are two sets of Cartwright’s “missing notes” both of which I’ve published as books through McGill-Queen’s Press – Both listed here – " and then gives me the links where I can buy them

Buy them!

When I pore over all of these ancient out-of-print books and find items that have been forgotten, I publish them either here or on my TRAVEL WEB SITE.

Nobody has to pay a penny to access the information that I discover. It’s nice if someone makes an Amazon purchase using the links here so that I can receive a small commission, and grateful thanks to those who do, but much as I like it, it’s not compulsory.

But pay to look at the results of my own research? Some people are out of their minds.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall the trip that I made to Cambridge University to look at the papers that William Cory Johnson had bequeathed to it, only to be told that I can’t have access until a researcher from the University has had first dibs.

And they’ve only been there since 1877 waiting, or something like that.

Like I said, I’m sick to death of this incestuous academia. I’m clearly in the wrong business.

So abandoning yet another good rant for a while, I started on the two radio programmes. And they both gave me problems that took quite a while to resolve. They are now however up and running but I’m going to have to re-dictate the notes because the recorder is playing up again. It sounds as if I have my head in a bucket.

It was later than I hoped when I finished. However I then dashed into the kitchen where I made some pizza dough.

While it was rising I made the garlic butter that I needed to do, and then began to make the hummus (which was what I forgot to mention yesterday).

The first batch, with dried tomato and olive, went really well and made a lovely batch. But the second, which should have been spicy hot chili, ran aground when I found that I had no spicy hot chilis lying around.

At the moment, that helping is in the fridge and I shall send my faithful cleaner off on an errand on Tuesday. She has to go anyway to look for some Tahini as I have no run out of that too.

In between everything I was organising all of the pizza stuff. 2 helpings of dough are in the ice box in the fridge and the third made a beautiful pizza tonight.

And then there was a mountain of washing-up to do. Tons of it tonight.

But now, later than usual and aching in places that I didn’t even know I had, I’m off to bed, still seething about that researcher.
She reminds me of the time that Rutherford was researching, and proudly announced "I’ve just found out that protons have a mass"
"Blimey!" said his Professor. "It’s news to me that they were even Catholic."

Saturday 19th October 2024 – THEY LEFT ME …

… pretty much to myself at the Dialysis Clinic this afternoon.

Once they’d plugged me in, they only came back once to deal with an alarm, one of the nursing assistants brought me a coffee, and that was that until it was time to unplug me

That’s much more like my way of doing things and if they can keep it up like that every time I go, I shall be much happier.

Another thing that shall make me much happier is going to bed early. Last night was ridiculous. Just as I was about to switch off everything and go to bed, round on the playlist came the classic Quicksilver Messenger Service version of Elias Bates (Bo Diddley to you)’s version of WHO DO YOU LOVE, all 25 minutes and 15 seconds of it.

Of course, one thing leads to another and once you start you’ll be surprised at how many other things there are and it was after 00:30 when I finally crawled into bed

For once though I had a good sleep. Apart from a brief, very brief moment, I was asleep for the entire night but I was still feeling the worse for wear when I crawled out of bed at the sound of the alarm.

First thing was to go into the kitchen. I’ve no bread left and so I set to work to make a loaf of bread, starting by making the dough and giving it a good kneading.

Whilst it was busy festering I went into the bathroom. With it being a Dialysis Day to day I gave myself a good scrub and even applied the deodorant, not that it makes much difference

Having organised myself I sorted out the washing. There’s tons of it, but I washed the bed linen today along with some of the stuff of which supplies are running low. When I came here from the Auvergne I didn’t bring everything with me – just enough to keep me going. But there’s no chance now of going back to the Auvergne to pick up the rest.

When the nurse came round he looked at the dough and asked “are you making bread?”. His asinine, patronising comments are getting on my nerves.

Luckily he didn’t stay long and was soon down the road, and I can carry on with breakfast and my book.

Today, the Woolhope Naturalists are at Llandrindod Wells where we hear them applauding the efforts that are being made in salmon conservation and calling for some kind of control of pollution of the local rivers – a good 100 years ahead of their time.

And then I put the bread in the oven.

After I’d started the washing off I’d made a start on the dictaphone notes but the arrival of the nurse had put paid to that. So after breakfast I carried on. There was this very small girl. She was very small and very lively, and very interested in everything that seemed to be going on around her. One day I had to go to the hospital. A car came for me – it was a big Austin A110. I climbed into it and it had to go to pick up some more people. A guy was picked up and he sat in the back, a woman or a guy – it seemed to change between the two. Then there was this small girl and this woman. The woman insisted on sitting in the front, so much so that she actually climbed into the front while I was in the seat. In the end I agreed that I’d step out of the car and sit in the rear. The little girl made some kind of comment so I said “God, I’m sitting next to you, am I?” in one of those harmless fun tones which started a little bit of a play argument. This all took place at the entrance to a car park somewhere but it turned out to be at the Earl of Crewe. We were all at the Earl of Crewe outside, all fooling around, all of us. Someone came up to me and said “You’ve forgotten that it’s her birthday today, haven’t you?” meaning the little girl. I replied “I didn’t really know”. “Don’t worry. The driver has bought a little present for her on your behalf”. I thought “that’s nice of him. That’s the second time that he’s done that. I’ll have to see about paying him back or something”. But I have half an hour when I’m not doing anything. I was planning on looking at a recipe that someone had given me. Instead, I can look at the recipe in the car and go to buy her a present then. We all ended up in some kind of old house with low ceilings and wattle-and-daub walls. We were all inside there and making conversation with each other and the little girl was doing her school homework. There was someone else there doing some work at the seat behind her. I was going to read this recipe but I thought that I’d go to talk to this girl and see what she’s doing. and this dream carried on like that for ages.

This dream certainly dates me if I’m being picked up by an Austin A110. I was still a teenager when those cars were top-of-the-range. And I often used (and probably still do) tease young girls like that. The incident of the woman wanting to sit in the front reminds me of that strange guy at the Dialysis Centre who never opened his mouth all the time except when the taxi driver asked “who wants to sit in the front?”.

Having had one phantom alarm call we have a second. And one of my friends seems to be coming “extremely close” to everyone who comes to her house. Tomorrow morning there is going to be someone new going so we should all be at the house and we should catch her. Se we were there and were waiting. Sure enough, someone came, a refugee from some island somewhere. She had a close encounter with him which makes the fourteenth in fourteen days. After that we walked home. I walked away over the hills and when I was round about at an arch some woman came up, a type of girl, not even wanting to talk to me about anything other than the items of clothing in my freezer bag that I had to give her, a freezer bag with eight items of clothing in there so now there was one piece of pizza and just three or four left. She wanted to search through them and wasn’t going to let me go home until I’d submitted to a search

There is actually one of my friends who behaves like that. Mind you, it’s a good 15-20 years since I’ve seen her and even then I used to keep a respectable distance. However, I don’t understand anything about the second part of that dream.

By the way, I have absolutely no recollection of either of those phantom alarm calls.

Finally I was in a bedsit room in Manchester. It was something of a mess but I was leaving today. I had a train at 18:00 that I absolutely had to catch. I wanted to see one of the many followers of this blog before I left but he could only fit me in after 17:00. As he lived in Altrincham that was leaving it rather tight to go out there to see him then come back to Manchester in the centre for my train. I’d have to have everything ready but it was now 09:25, I was lying there, I was hearing people washing so I arose, found a bearskin to keep me warm and then went to see if there was a washbasin free where I had a really good wash ready for going out catching the Underground and going off to do the things that I needed to do

If I could go across Manchester on the Underground, that would be something of a miracle. Any plans for an underground network in the city have long-since been scuppered which was a shame and today everyone has to go by tram and even then it’s not all that convenient. The “Northern powerhouse” promised by so many politicians is a myth, a vote-catching soundbyte and as long as the politicians won’t admit that there’s anything of any importance beyond the M25, so it will remain.

Having hung up the washing to dry, I sorted out the bread. One side of it hadn’t risen at all so we can call this loaf a failure, which is a shame. But I can’t understand why that would be because the bread was in the middle of the oven with the heat, in principle, passing equally all around it.

While the bread was cooling and the washing was drying I came back in here where I was supposed to be having a morning off. However, I made an interesting discovery relating to what might in the near future be an interesting radio programme so I followed it up.

Round about 11:50 I had a message – “could you be ready for 12:15? We’re short of numbers today and there’s a person needing to go to Avranches for 13:00. Would you share?”.

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I am being offered an extraordinary service that exists nowhere else in the World to my knowledge, and it’s all free to me. Who am I to argue about any of this? In any case, the earlier we start, the earlier we finish

It meant a mad panic though, for me and my faithful cleaner to prepare me for the trip and we only just made it. Just as she was leaving, the driver turned up.

It was someone who had taken me to Paris in the past and we had a good chat on the way down to Avranches.

With the taxi coming early, I was early arriving and so I was coupled up quickly, and then left to my own devices.

For the first time in a couple of weeks I crashed out (and isn’t that a change?). Only for twenty minutes or so and when I awoke I had the most appalling indigestion that plagued me for hours.

With no interruptions I reviewed my Welsh, last week’s and the forthcoming week, had a close look at the homework that I need to finish off and then tidied up the laptop. The whole desktop is far too cluttered and there are loads of tabs open in Waterfox and I’ve no idea why. They aren’t open now.

No-one bothered me or interrupted me and as far as I could see, there wasn’t even a doctor on duty. But for the compression stage of the procedure where someone has to clamp my arm for ten minutes I had Julie the Cook again
"You really ought to try to do this yourself" she said
"Clear off!" I replied. "How else am I going to have a beautiful girl sitting beside me for ten minutes holding my hand?"

When they weighed me I found that I’d lost another 2kg. My “unfit” target weight is now firmly in my sights and if I can reach it I would be delighted. But as I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … getting it off is one thing. Keeping it off is something else completely.

The taxi driver was a new girl. She was an ambulancier in the Champagne-Ardennes who moved here five weeks ago. She applied to the company for a job and in the kind of logic that only they think is reasonable but neither my driver nor me could understand, they put her to driving taxis when she’s no idea of where she’s going. At least as an ambulancier she’d be with someone, which would help her pick up the hints.

And for once in our lives, having left the Dialysis Centre early, at Sartilly we find ourselves in a long queue stuck behind a tractor (it’s that time of year again) and we crawl all the way to Granville at 30kmh.

My faithful cleaner watched me up the stairs, and today I could manage nine before I need to lift up my leg with my hand. This is certainly progress and I hope that it keeps up.

Back in here even though I was early I did nothing until tea time. I was exhausted. But I made myself a lovely tea of a burger on a bun with salad and baked potato followed by apple cake and soya cream.

Now that this severe indigestion has eased somewhat I’m off to bed once I’ve dictated the radio notes. Tomorrow I’ll be busy with the radio, with pizza dough to make and there’s something else that I need to make but I’ve forgotten what it is right now. I hope that I remember.

But I forgot to mention an incident that caused panic and embarrassment at the Dialysis Clinic today.
A man walked by mistake into the ladies’ cloakroom and a couple of minutes later two women walked in behind him.
Suddenly there were all kinds of panic as a couple of nurses dashed towards the cloak room with the emergency gear.
"What’s going on?" I asked
"It’s one of those two women" replied a breathless nurse. "She’s had a stroke!"
"What about the other one?" I asked
"She wasn’t quick enough" replied the nurse.

Friday 18th October 2024 – I HAVE BEEN …

… a busy boy yet again.

So much so that not only am I going to have tomorrow morning off (apart from bread-making and doing a machine-load of washing) but I actually had a couple of hours off this afternoon too.

In a mad, fit burst of energy I had all of the work that I intended to do today finished by hot chocolate time and it’s nice for once to be in a position where I could just lounge around.

It’s not as if I was in bed early last night. It was another late night, midnight in fact, when I hit the sack. But something remarkable happened, or didn’t happen, as the case may be. I slept all the way through to the alarm.

No awakening, no drenching in perspiration either. It really was a deep sleep. But that means that it’s not the dialysis that’s causing the problem. It must be something else, and I wonder what it might be.

So when the alarm went off I crawled out of bed and went off into the bathroom for a good wash and scrub up. Then back in here to find that the internet was down.

Not to worry. There were plenty of things that I could be doing. Like transcribing the dictaphone notes. I was out driving a taxi around Sandbach last night. I could hear all of the confusion in Crewe by listening to the radio and thought to myself “in a minute I’ll be mixed up in that” but a voice came over the radio when I told them that I’d finished my job, and that was to go to Sandbach Hall and pick up a couple of passengers to take them to Northampton. I thought “that’s sounding good”.

Yes, I’d often go to drive the taxi that we had in Sandbach, just for an evening’s peace and quiet away from the stress. I always drove it on a Thursday night because there were the weekly accounts to do and sitting at the station there waiting for the trains to come in, I could crack on and do them. But I had a few decent fares from there on a couple of occasions. Never quite made it to Northampton but Coventry once one Sunday afternoon.

When I’d finished that I decided that I’d perform a full back-up.

The last one that I took was in September last year and since then I’ve been backing up every night on the memory stick that lives in one of the USB ports

The situation here is that I have the big powerful machine with a 1TB SSD that is the driver disk, and a 4TB drive that is the data disk. And then there’s an array with several hard drives in it that constitutes the back-up disks. That all works very well so let’s hear it for the array

… "Hip, hip array!" – ed …

There are several external drives that I use for the more specialised back-ups and then there’s the 128GB USB stick in the back of the computer where I back up my data at least every night, and more often if necessary.

The nurse came to see me while I was in the middle of it all. He changed my bandages and when he finished, asked me “can you put on your socks on your own?”.

These socks are actually elasticated and very difficult to manage, and also I can’t bend enough these days with all of my problems. But I asked why he wanted to know.

The answer is that he thinks that in a week or two’s time I’ll no longer need the treatment to my legs and if I could put on my socks myself I wouldn’t need the nurses round every morning.

Sounds like a good plan to me so I reckon that after my shower on Wednesday I’d have a try. Anything if there’s a possibility of a good lie-in on a Sunday morning again.

After he left I made breakfast and carried on reading the report of the Naturalists. We’re discussing primroses, cowslips and oxslips, not that I have any interest in botany, but I was interested to see the lecturer discussing treatment that was novel in 1867 but is commonplace today, and how flowers have evolved over the last 150 years or so.

He went on to say how putting manure on your primroses and cowslips improves their quality and, rather quaintly, goes on to extol the benefits of what he calls “street scrapings”. Yes, the horse-power back in those days came from real horses.

Back in here I carried on backing up until I’d finished, not having noticed that the internet was back on.

Once I’d finished another good job I started work,, finishing off the radio notes

My cleaner came early today. She decided that as it was a lovely day she’d go to join the crowds at the pèche-à-pied this afternoon so she’d come at lunchtime.

For the benefit of new readers, of whom there are more than just a few these days, I live in one of the best shellfish-producing areas in Europe, if not the World.

In principle, all of the beaches and rocks are let off to concessions who have the right to exploit what they find there. That right goes from high water-mark down to the low water-mark.

However, we also have some of the highest tides in Europe and about a dozen times per year, the tides are such that they go out beyond the low water mark. And when that happens, it’s a free-for-all on the very low part where everyone can rake up what he can, as long as he obeys the limits about size and quantity.

So she’s off with her bucket and grattoire and she’ll be OK as long as she shares her catch with her friends. After all, you mustn’t be selfish with your shellfish.

While she was here we chatted about this idea that I have about trying to put on my own socks. She’s not sure how I’m going to do it but she’s willing to see what I can do and how I do it.

And to be honest, so am I.

My salad butty at lunchtime used up the last of the bread and so tomorrow morning I’ll have to make some more. I’ll also have to set a washing machine off so even though it’s going to be a day of rest, I’ll still be busy.

Liz and I had a little chat which was nice. It’s been a long time since we spoke to each other

But anyway I finished off all of the notes for this programme that I’d been preparing. The music that I’d selected ran out at just over 53 minutes and I’d been keeping a careful count of the text that I’d written and I’ve calculated that it will run to 7 minutes and 12 seconds.

It’ll be great if it does because there won’t be much at all to cut out once the soundtrack has been edited.

After the hot chocolate I uninstalled a program that had been causing me problems and reinstalled an earlier version, only to find that I was having the same trouble.

That was when I discovered that I’d inadvertently changed a setting on the program that I’d deleted, that the version that I’d re-uploaded had remembered. A flick of a switch changed that and now I’ll have to uninstall that program and reinstall the new one again.

Tea tonight was vegan salad, chips and vegan nuggets, followed by apple cake and coconut-soya cream

So now it’s bedtime. so I’m clearing off, ready to fight the good fight tomorrow, and I hope that you like my Robinson Crusoe impression

When my cleaner was in I told her that today I was going to do my impression of Robinson Crusoe.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well" I replied "all of his work was done by Friday too"

Sunday 25th February 2024 – I’VE HAD A …

… lovely chat with Ingrid this afternoon. Another one of our multilingual ones and which ended up as a Rosemaryesque conversation of 1 hour and 15 minutes. It’s nice to be popular.

It’s also nice to have had a really good night’s sleep too.

After the dictating the usual load of rubbish that passes for radio programme notes these days, I was in bed for 01:30. And then waking up ay 09:25 without having felt a thing, and then not leaving the bed until 11:30 What is there that is any better than that at my advanced age?

First thing that I did was to look at my foot. I had to take off my elasticated stocking on the right foot last night as it was irritating the foot.

A closer examination this morning reveals that the fabric of the sock has rubbed it raw for some reason and it’s inflamed. The skin is flaking around the wound too so a day or so in the fresh air followed by a disinfected cloth covering will do it good.

It’s a good job that I have some surgical tissues and alcohol disinfectant. They should help it heal and in the meantime I’ll show it to the doctor at the Centre de Re-education when I go there in 10 days.

Next step was to check my blood pressure. This morning it was 17.4/10.1 which compares with last night’s 17.7/10.5. So what excited me during the night? it certainly wasn’t TOTGA, Castor or Zero.

After the medication I came back in here to find out what had happened during the night. And it was rather disappointing, if not depressing. I’d been in a van with someone and we’d been driving somewhere. We had to stop because the person with me wanted a cup of coffee. We had a rope with us and I wanted to tie it up to something so that it would stay in the van. The only thing that I could find was the handgrip over the door. I tied the rope there with a kind of knot and went out to have my coffee. For some reason the rope wouldn’t stay tied. tt managed to untie itself and at that moment I actually awoke. That rope wasn’t right for some reason.

That’s not exactly what I call an exciting dream. The way things are in my life right now he only excitement that I have is what goes on during the night.

And not just with TOTGA, Zero or Castor either. While of course I’m delighted if one of them comes along with me on a travel, that’s really the icing on the cake. Having adventures, voyages and bizarre encounters is what my dreams should be all about regardless of who (with the exception of my family of course) comes with me.

Boring, sad and uneventful encounters have no place to play in my life, especially during the hours of darkness.

Instead I went for lunch – cheese on toast and porridge with strong black coffee to fire up the imagination.. And there are no complaints about my bread. It’s not perfection – in fact, it’s a long way from it, but it’s better than a couple of weeks ago.

Back in here, rather later than usual, I made a start on the radio programme whose notes needed editing. And while I was … errr … elsewhere during a little break, Ingrid phoned me.

after I’d washed my hands I phoned her back and we had our lengthy chat. Her elderly cat, who was 20 years old, has died, so she told me. And that’s sad news. Mind you, 20 years s a good age for a cat, especially around the Auvergne with so many predators

She’s talking about coming up to see me, which will be lovely. In fact there are a couple of people in the Auvergne who have been talking about coming up here. Not just to see me of course, but to have a little holiday break, and Ingrid is talking about hitching a ride with them.

If they do all come up here, it’ll make a nice break for them and a welcome distraction for me. Up here locked in my little room while my leg is healed and the lift is being repaired is doing me no good.

They say that the lift might be fixed by Friday in which case I can go to the shops on the bus.

The lifts here only go to the half-landings which is a shame. They don’t actually go to the floors where the front door is or the apartments are.

That’s something that sounds very strange but this is a 17th Century building built before lifts of course, and as it’s a registered historic building we can’t knock it about how we like

Before Ingrid phoned I was planning on making some biscuits as I’d run out but it was too late now. Instead I went and rolled out the pizza dough that had been defrosting since I took it from the freezer after lunch.

Yes, Ingrid on the phone or not, nothing will stop the relentless march of the Sunday pizza.

So now that my notes are written, I’ll have a think about finishing off the assembly of the radio programme and then choose the final track and write the notes for it. I’m not sure if I’m up to dictating them but we’ll see. Ralph Marston said "Rest when you’re weary. Refresh and renew yourself, your body, your mind, your spirit. Then get back to work" but if I were to do that, I would never ever restart.

With this new medication, I’ve noticed several side-effects kicking in. I’m having difficulty with my eyes (hence the typos), I’m all confused (you should see the mess that I’ve made of this radio programme) and I’m just so tired – all the time too.

There was an interesting paragraph in the Woolhope Naturalists (not “Naturists”) Club’s 1867 Annual Report which said that "the history of a people, for the most part, is but the detail of the trials and calamities that have occurred to them", and that is something with which I can personally relate.

Sunday 7th January 2024 – WHAT A WAY …

… to spend a Sunday – all doped up and nowhere to go.

Yes this morning they gave me some more sodium – sodium sulphide this time – but in liquid form. “Here – drink this!” and so I did, and it’s disgusting.

No hallucinations, so no Zero, Castor or TOTGA to keep me company, but it didn’t ‘arf knock me for six and I was flat out for a good part of the day.

It was rather unfair, because I was awake quite early – ridiculously early for a Sunday in fact. And there’s tons of stuff on the dictaphone too as you’ll find out in a minute.

One of the nurses came by. "If you need any help in the shower, don’t hesitate to ask". To which I took no notice.

But when the second nurse came past and repeated the same phrase, it was "Okay, okay, I get the message. I need a shower."

Mind you, it was nice under the shower. I really did enjoy it.

After breakfast I transcribed the dictaphone notes. I’d been living a kind of extremely nomadic life … "no surprise there" – ed …. It wasn’t that I was broke either. I had plenty of money. I was living in the attic of a folk club where I had to climb up a whole series of strange steps to haul myself up through into the top so all my post was being directed to my eldest sister. She forgot to deal with some of it for a while. It turned out that I’d had the option on a house for which I’d signed and for which the bank was arranging a mortgage but she didn’t give me some of the letters which meant that the option had expired so I wasn’t going to have that house after all. That was extremely distressing to me. At the same time I was driving around in BILL BADGER my old A60 van. It had no tax on it and I’d already been stopped twice by the police. It had no insurance on it either and they had noted that. I’d also driven through a speed camera at one time faster than I ought. I was living a temporary, nomadic life and none of this had been taken into account anywhere so one day I would be called to account, I’d have all these things on my driving licence. I’d have 9 points and with another 3 points I’d lose my licence. I could see that it wouldn’t be long before that happened, having these 9 points all together and then having to go carefully for all this time and in the meantime having the van MoT’d. I could see that all of my life at the moment was falling to bits. Nothing was going right and I had all kinds of problems. I was just extremely distressed by all of it.

And that’s not an unusual state of affairs in my dreams – and in real life too, is it? Nothing going right and the wheels dropping off everything all the time

I forgot to mention that at one point I had to climb into my attic at this folk club. There were plenty of people there. Sitting at the foot of the stairs was an old guy with 2 children. I thought that one of them was a girl so I said “excuse me, miss” but it turned out to be a young boy. That was extremely embarrassing too.

There was a young boy rather similar to Jimmy Clitheroe, very tight with his money and always trying to find some more. There was some kind of party that he had to attend, which involved spending £5:00 to go. He was keen to go but there was an argument downstairs at the door when someone who appeared to be drunk said that he was a representative of the Co-op or something. Jimmy Clitheroe pushed him out and closed the door, but the pane of glass broke. Everyone else was broke too. One old man who was there was complaining about how hard up he was. He’d gone through his accounts to show that he was broke, rang up the glazing company and gave them the measurements for the window. When asked about the payment foolishly gave his own bank card number. This boy Jimmy Clitheroe was quite pleased about this because he’s got away without paying anything but his mother had learnt what was going on. When it came to giving him his pocket money for the next week she handed it out and said “here’s you pocket money minus £1:00 for the old guy who had to ring up etc an here’s another £1:00 for the house for the inconvenience”. That meant all his pocket money and he didn’t have any money to go to visit his friends at this dance so he couldn’t go … fell asleep here … what I meant to say that everyone thought that he would be unhappy about it but instead he remembered the song about “one wheel on my wagon”. He went off singing that. That seemed to make him a lot happier about the situation.

For the benefit of new readers, of which there are more than just a few right now, I don’t actually fall asleep. I am asleep when I dictate these notes – something that years of practice has enabled me to do. What happens is that slowly I drift off into total silence while I’m dictating and after a few seconds you’ll hear a slow, deep rhythmic breathing,

There was also a dream involving a herd of polar bears being given sledges on a kind of miniature railway to go downhill to the sea. Instead, on their way down they encountered a herd of wildebeest and the wildebeest encountered a couple of humans and you don’t really want to know what happened especially if you are eating your tea right now.

I was round at an estate agents later on trying to find a house. There was one described as “2 bedrooms with study” so I wanted to find out more about it. I noticed that it had a large garden, part of which was lawn etc and the other part was gravelled over as if someone had been parking several cars there. That immediately piqued my interest. There was also a discussion about commercial properties. There was a shopping mall that had been built a long time ago but no-one was quite sure when. Several of the units were empty so people were looking at them with a view to trying to find some kind of clue as to their origin. They seemed to think that it might go back as far as 1890 but that was doubtful. There was one big unit that was empty. It seemed to be the kind of unit that a certain ladies’ clothes shop was seeking so they contacted the shop. They came to see it but it wasn’t really suitable for them. In any case the description of “large sales floor with plenty of storage” didn’t seem to fit. I couldn’t find the storage anywhere. It certainly wasn’t in the basement underneath so I was wondering where it was and how it was controlled or made.

And then I was being interviewed by the police about something or other. They asked about my movements over the last few days. I explained that they were extremely difficult but nevertheless I pointed out two calls to the hospital between the first and the third of the month to which I’d been invited. That was what I’d been doing for a couple of days just recently. It was the First of March until the Third of March and this was about the Fifth of March. He saw that there were several difficulties recording them and asked me if I could transfer them over to my big computer. I told him that it would be put on the big computer in due course which seemed to satisfy him for the moment but to me he was more interested in my notes and records on the computer than he was on this murder in my opinion. He didn’t seem to ask me many questions about the murder at all.

Of course, in real life I was a great deal of use to the Cheshire Constabulary. Almost every day I was being asked to help them with their enquiries.

As I said just now, I’m asleep when I dictate these dreams. But usually when I’m typing them out later I have some kind of vague recollection of them in the back of my mind. Rarely though, I have no recollection whatever, and that one was one of those.

We then had an issue of dark olive green cabs for lorries that had been discovered somewhere in Greenland. These cabs were new and had never been fitted. I was trying to identify them. They looked very much like ERF cabs to me, or maybe Foden cabs but someone seemed to think that they were MAN cabs, and if I posted them as MAN cabs someone would immediately recognise them and claim them as theirs as not having been delivered. I was looking through the internet trying to find identical cabs that had been labelled but I wasn’t having much luck because for some reason the computer kept throwing me out of the page that I was trying to search so I couldn’t actually see properly what the results were of my search on line.

Finally there was an advert in one of these magazines about a girl looking for a companion. Out of boredom I replied. Much to my surprise I found that, mush as she was a bit of a flighty piece, she seemed to be quite nice and what’s more, she seemed to like me very much. We developed quite a good rapport quite quickly. It was while I was running the taxis so I could only see her on Saturday nights but somehow that seemed to fit in with her timetable too so she was there making plans etc on what we’d do on different Saturday nights. She planned a night where we’d go to have a drink or something and end up sitting on top of a kind of cliff somewhere like at Frodsham and watch the stars, which sounded very nice to me as we’d just been for a drink but for some reason we’d had to come home early. Back at home early she was making a drink. There was still a group of taxi drivers there waiting for work to come in, and there was a pile of little children being dressed in winter coats ready to leave. But while this girl was making a cup of tea I was standing right behind her as cose as I could be, holding her by the waist. We were laughing and joking. My elder sister came in and made some remark about us being home early but last week we’d ended up in some farmyard or other for several hours completely up to no good. I didn’t realise that I was being spied upon so closely. That was what I said, but it was all extremely humorous. My elder sister began to chat to this girl as if she was already one of the family. It ended up being quite a warm ambience of the type that we have in dreams every now and again, something that was quite pleasant and I didn’t want it to stop.

Terry came on line for a chat later, to remind me that it’s the anniversary of our visit to the Stade Louis Dior where we stood on the terraces and watched US Granville, who play in the equivalent of the Conference North with a team of taxi drivers, school teachers and shop assistants stuff the Girondins of Bordeaux in the French Cup.

And how Bordeaux were unhappy and completely lost their cool as well. It was embarrassing to watch a Premier League club behave like that.

We travelled many a mile together, Terry and me, and we worked on many roofs.

tt would always be the same story. Terry would ring me up a about 08:00 "are you free today?"
"You have to say the magic words, Terry" I’d reply
"Liz is baking."

And for someone who said how much he hated cats, I’ll never forget how gentle he was with those two feral kittens he found asleep in a tyre in his barn at Le Fournial.

Liz came on line later too and we had a chat for a while which was nice. I also had a chat with someone who appears quite often in these pages, but usually during a nocturnal ramble. That was lovely too but I wish that she’d appear in real life too. As for who she was, I’m sure that regular readers of this rubbish will recall a few names and have a good guess.

The doctor came by but didn’t have much to say for himself. He asked about the perfusion so I told him about the hallucinations, so I suspect that that’s reason for these drinks today.

Apart from that, I’ve had some reading to do. And talking about global warming, I’ve found a paper presented to the Woolhope Naturalists’ Club of Hereford as early as 1867 by a certain T. Curley, CE FGS, discusses the subject and that really is the earliest that I’ve ever seen where systematic global warming has been the subject of discussion.

Not only does he discuss it, he presents some interesting calculations too, some of which I know to be confirmed by other scientists and geographers.

But I’ve also been asleep for much of the time thanks to this witches’ brew of sodium sulphide. During one of my (many) dozes during the day I went off into a dream with a group of young people but I awoke quite dramatically and the whole thing evaporated from out of my mind. Absolutely all of it.

And now that I’ve had my depressing evening meal (I’m glad that I brought these extra food supplies) I’m going to have yet another one of these sodium drinks. So I imagine that it won’t be long before I start to fall asleep and disappear into the Arms of Morpheus. I suppose that I’d better find the bed quickly before I crash out on the ………. zzzzzzzz.

EPIC HALL

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

Tag Archives: Woolhope Naturalists’ Club

Tuesday 18th February 2025 – I AM FEELING …

Tuesday 29th October 2024 – I HAVE LOST …

Monday 28th October 2024 – I’M FED UP …

Sunday 27th October 2024 – I REALLY ENJOYED …

Saturday 26th October 2024 – YOU AREN’T GOING …

Friday 25th October 2024 – I HAVE HAD …

Thursday 24th October 2024 – THEY BROUGHT ME …

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

Tuesday 22nd October 2024 – MY FAITHFUL CLEANER …

Monday 21st October 2024 – I’M STILL ACHING …

Sunday 20th October 2024 – RIGHT NOW I AM IN …

Saturday 19th October 2024 – THEY LEFT ME …

Friday 18th October 2024 – I HAVE BEEN …

Sunday 25th February 2024 – I’VE HAD A …

Sunday 7th January 2024 – WHAT A WAY …

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