Wednesday 3rd December 2025

For the third day in a row, and of this month, the picture of the day is food related.

So it goes, so it goes.

We woke up un-hungry, so decided instead of having brunch, we would go to the chippy restaurant in Deal for lunch.

Early lunch.

I slept in until twenty to eight, so the morning seemed very short indeed. Jools was still feeling off, so there was no walking or going to the gym.

And outside the scattered showers forecasted, turned out to be heavy and frequent, and clouds dark enough to have the table lamp on most of the day.

We had stuff to drop off at the charity shop in Deal, and if we ate out for lunch, we could delay going to Tesco until Thursday, thus meaning we needn't go over the weekend.

We left at half eleven, and indeed it was bouncing down, and on the Deal road where it weaves through the wood, so dark it seemed like night.

Water collected at the bottom of the hill into a shallow bath. We splashed through that, though traffic was going barely above thirty.

The sky and sea were dark and angry, as we drove to the car park, finding a space near the chippy, so it would take only a minute or two to walk quickly there, dodging the raindrops.

Good news was that my favourite, skate wing, was on. So I ordered that, and Jools had a medium haddock. So, we sat and waited, sipping our brews and people watching.

Business was slow, just half the tables inside taken, and only a trickle of people in the take away. But it was early, I guess.

The skate came all golden and crunchy where the batter gathered and was deep fried. Underneath the flesh was pure white and fresh.

I couldn't finish the chips! So left half. It came to £39, and to think back in the mid-70s, cod and chips twice, and a battered sausage and chips used to cost £1.69 from Hall Road chippy, the best in town and worth sending your only son on his bike crossing the main road there and back.

We bought a few things in town, then rushed back to the car as another storm front swept over, bringing ever harder rain and gloomy light.

I drove is back, getting us home safe, so we spent the afternoon watching Gone Fishing for two hours.

By the time the series finished, it was dark outside, so I made fresh brews and we fed the cats.

For the evening there was more football, which I watched, as televised footy doesn't watch itself. Second game was Liverpool v Sunderland, which ended 1-1, but Liverpool very poor again.

Tuesday 2nd December 2025

I had pondered how to fit phys into the schedule with Tuesday morning being given over to driving to Gatwick and back.

I considered going Monday to make it three days in a row, or doing Wednesday and Thursday.

But as I usually go very early on Tuesday so Jools could go to her phys class in town, I decided to go earlier, be at the gym at five past six, so get my session done and be back home by seven.

Which is what I did. Up at five, get dressed, drink coffee and out of the house at five to six. On the bike by ten past, and cycling round Paris again for forty minutes.

Time was now short, so back home to have a shower, get changed and have a brew, peel and chop potatoes for roasts later, and still be on the road by quarter to eight.

Phew.

I listened to the end of Word in Your Ear, then Danny Kelly on Spurs' latest problems as I drove.

You know the route by now: Dover to Folkestone on the A20, then up through Ashford and Maidstone on the motorway, then west to the M25.

At least the rain showers expected never arrived, and instead it was glorious sunshine once the clouds parted.

Their plane wasn't due to land until ten, but sometimes the winds blow a plane over very quickly. I once flew from Boston to London in well under five hours, so I wanted to be close to the airport.

Then I could stop at Clackett Lane Services, have a coffee and pulled pork toastie and as I ate, check on the status of the flight.

I would leave there once the plane touched down, giving me about a twenty mile run to Gatwick, by which time I hope the plane would have taxied, unloaded than Jen and Jane got through immigration and baggage reclaim.

No call came, and my calls went unanswered, so once at Gatwich, I parked up in McDonalds to wait.

Only problem was that you had to buy something, then get your ticket validated before the barrier would let you out.

I had a hash brown and a cheese and bacon flatbread, which was most underwhelming.

As I went to sit in the car, Jen called to say they were now leaving arrivals. So I arranged to meet them, driving round the ring road, no roadside pick up, so in the parking garage, up to level three, so I texted Jen the details, and once parked I looked out the window and there was Jen pushing a suitcase almost as big as she.

I went down to meet them, then into the lift and up to the car, squeezing the four cases and bags in before driving down to the exit. Where a ten minute stay cost me £7 to get out.

Anyway, that paid, we escape and get onto the motorway, head north to the M25 junction, before cruising east at 50mph, as we had all day, into Kent before turning south back to Maidstone.

Traffic was light, weather sunny and warm. It was perfect for driving.

Obviously on the way we talked about the stuff they missed and what they had done on the cruise.

Time flew.

I dropped them off at just gone half midday, dumped the cases the back home.

Phew.

After a brew, I warm the duck fat for the roast potatoes that Jools had boiled and drained, and 90 minutes later after basting three times, and cooking the pies, vegetables and warming through the pot of gravy, we sat down at about three to eat a fine meal.

And that was it for the day, really. Outside the sun set in the west and the waxing moon was already high in the south sky.

We watched some Gone Fishing, and then retired to our hobbies: Jools upstairs doing beading and me watching more football on the telly.

Yes, more football, but Citeh hung on to win at Fulham 5-4. Yes, 5-4. And Tottenham somehow drew 2-2 at Newcastle.

Entertaining stuff.

Monday 1st December 2025

December will be magic. So sang the Blessed Kate some forty five years ago.

And we loved her.

And indeed, it is December again, and another month of sloth and idleness for Jools and I, over eight months since retirement.

And with the winds set to blow and blow wind at the house all day. We did little.

Of any note.

Jools is feeling a little off colour, so we lollygagged around once we had eaten breakfast, though Jools did take her Aunt to the doctors, but felt pretty crappy upon her return, so took to bed with an ice pack and slept for a couple of hours, surrounded by three of our four cats.

I just did more of not much substance, though I did think it would be good to have the main meal for lunch, so made crunchy-coated haddock, more grains, steamed vegetables and the rest of the wonderful cheese and mustard sauce, which we smothered over our plates.

It had to be used up.

And then an afternoon of Bangers and Cash on one of the lesser TV channels, nice gentle stuff, while we tried to stay awake.

Supper was a selection of stinky French cheeses, crackers and wine. But from Tesco now that No Name Shop has closed.

The cheeses were OK. The wine wonderful, and a reminder why I don't drink it now, as two glasses were not enough, but I resisted opening a second bottle. Instead had some of the Masala wine that Jools uses to make tiramisu.

There was football on telly, of course, but as I was to be up at five in the morning, I went to bed at nine. So was fast asleep when Jen rung to see if I had remembered that I was picking her up at Gatwick in the morning.

Yus. I'll be there.

Sunday 30th November 2025

It is Sunday.

And sunny.

But cold.

And to start the day, we head to Whitfield for some phys.

The usual faces seen as we park the car and walk to the entrance. Words of greetings are exchanged, as are self-judgements that we must be mad to be here at quarter past seven.

I cycle round the Loire Valley for forty minutes while the Parallel Universe pays in my ears.

More people arrive, and are when we leave, happy that we had done our session, already.

We go home via the filling station, as I have to pick Jen and Jane up at Gatwick on Tuesday, and motorway fuel stops are very expensive.

That done, and chocolate bought, we go home for breakfast and a shower, then wonder what to do with the day.

We don't do much with the day, really. The morning passes with the radio on and us messing around online.

Football starts at midday, but I don't fancy the Scottish game on offer. Instead, I make lunch, chorizo hash, all ready for half one.

We eat that, wash up so I can watch the first of the two Prem games: West Ham v Liverpool, which Liverpool ease to an easy 2-0 win. With the home side not really having any confidence they would score.

So don't.

Chelsea v Arsenal was a stinker, and I got quite angry as to how dreadful it was, with all the feigning of injuries to get opposition players sent off.

Cheese and crackers for supper. And with wine, as it had been ten days since I had had a sip.

The fine day had given way to a wet and windy night, that was to continue all through Monday.

So, hold onto your hats!

All back to Brexit (reprise)

Last week the Labour Government announced its latest budget, or was it a financial statement?

Anyway, other than fiddling round the edges with taxes, the key issue of flatlining growth and productivity were not addressed.

In addition, further punative measures were announced against assylum seekers, which in the sclae of GDP was like demanding a penny change after buying a car.

Assylum seekers could be allowed to work, so pay for their upkeep. Butits seems more important to blame them for all the country's ills and pay billions in hotel bills for them, rather than fix the problem of the application backlog.

And it pandering to the right wing mouth-breathers of Farage and his ilk.

I did not vote Labour for them to ignore their voters' concerns to butter up racists. Farage supporters will not vote Labour because they have gone all right wing, they'll vote for Farage, and all it does is legitimise his policies.

Nothing is being done regarding Brexit, and indeed, last week new measures were brought in by the UK and the EU which makes trading by small businesses almost impossible, some have already given up and closed their online shops.

Meanwhile, in the Daily Torygraph Business Section, there was this headline:

When will the madness of Brexit be talked about by the political classes of both abour and the Conservatives?

Saturday 29th November 2025

And so to the weekend.

And being the weekend, that means an early morning to the gym.

Jools made coffee, then I go alone to Whitfield, getting there at twenty past seven, just before the sun rises.

Up the stairs and on the bike. I cycle round Paris again, I seem to enjoy cities more than countrysides. But I have a new Parallel Universe to listen to for the weekend, so set that up and am transported to 1970, with The Beatles about to release their last single before spitting.

So it goes.

Then to Tesco for some vegetables, as I forgot those the last time I went. And yet managed to forget the spinach.

So it goes.

So back home for half eight, on with the wireless and make second brews and breakfast.

Rain was due to fall all morning, so not worth going out. And anyway, I had a second beer delivery coming, so I had better stay in.

The morning was filled with having a shower and listening to Huey on the wireless, then at one, the football was underway, so I watched one of the lunchtime games before settling down on the sofa for the main batch of games.

Norwich had not won a game of any kind since the end of August. We have a new manager now, and failed to beat one of the team right above us in the table midweek, drawing 1-1 with Oxford.

But then Oxford beat Ipswich on Friday evening, so who knows?

On Saturday, we were playing QPR at home, a team that was on a run of three games without defeat.

Norwich took the lead, then conceded within two minutes, then scored two more on the half hour.

And more than hung on for the three points. At kick off we were eight points from safety, and at full time, just five points.

But its just one game.

Still, a wins a win.

Sunset was spectacular, bright red light and clouds from the west spreading over the sky.

I took shots.

Dinner was breaded chicken, grains, steamed corn and cauliflower. For which I made a cheese and mustard sauce, which was magnificent, and blended the whole meal together perfectly.

Then there were two Premier League games, one kicking off at half five, then Spurs v Fulham at eight.

I swear I looked away twice in the first four minutes of the Spurs game, and they conceded both times.

As it is the time of year we remember those who we lost from my RAF trade, I had a beer during the evening and toasted to those now in the care of St Barbara.

Friday 28th November 2025

It appears there's a Friday every week.

And it's Friday.

Again.

Somehow.

The weeks and months rattle by, its nearly December and Christmas.

As its not a phys day, I don't set the alarm, so fall back to sleep at least three times after Jools got up at five.

I convince myself it must be nearly seven, but my phone tells me its three minutes to six.

I get up.

Jools leaves for yoga, having washed up, tested, jabbed and fed Scully, fed the other cats, made a tea, out out the bins and got ready to go out.

She leaves as I walk down the stairs, so boil the kettle for coffee.

Outside its a fine if cold morning, though no frost. I was going to go for a walk, but don't.

I wait for Jools to come home for breakfast, which I do, and Jools says that she's hungry. We had bacon, we had rolls.

So I combine the two after grilling the bacon and make butties and brews.

I wash up, and Jools goes out again to the library for her craft and gossip morning. Coffee is also drunk and biscuits also dunked and eaten.

I collect the bins and check on Scully, then give her half a pack of food.

Someone on Jools's group has no heating, we have a spare electric blanket, so I am tasked in finding it, then taking it up to the library.

Which I do.

Which also means I can take Jools back home before the unforecasted rain sweeps in later.

The couple without the heating come round for the afternoon, so to be in the warm, and to chat. Though the husband, John, talks at me, Jools and his wife. And is not really interested in much what I say.

They stay ninety minutes, then leave as their plumber was due. And peace returned to Chez Jelltex.

Darkness fell, rain swept in, so we closed the curtains early to shut the world out.

I try to win the quiz, so guess early and get it wrong. Oh well, a new round starts next week.

And there was football for the evening: Oxford, who Norwich failed to beat were playing host to Ipswich. And in a turn up, Oxford win 2-1 with the winner being scored by an ex Norwich player.

Of course.