Wednesday 31st December 2025

I am writing this at half past eight on New Year's Eve, we have just finished watching The Italian Job, and after washing up, we're going to bed.

That's how rock and roll we are these days.

We scoured the TV listings, and there's nothing really to watch. The cats are fed and happy, so our job this year is done.

As the gym is closed tomorrow, which apparently is a Thursday, we're taking two days off from phys, before starting again on Saturday.

But we did go this morning, joining our types, the sort who are waiting at the doors when the sports centre opened at eight.

The day dawned bright, with clear blue skies, but just before seven, fog came down and shrouded everything. But at least the roads were quiet.

Once we had done our session and cooled down, back in the car to drive home for a brew and breakfast.

The fog did clear, and turned into a bright but cold day, with snow soon the way, possibly on Saturday and more on Monday.

Back home the magpies and crows were waiting for peanuts, so I filled the feeders and scattered some food on the grass, and they were soon eating.

I had a shower and shave, felt human again, and so thoughts turned to lunch.

Soup and some cheesy crusty bread, quickly warmed up, the take to the sofa to watch the Jaws at 50 documentary, which was very good indeed.

The afternoon slipped by, and after supper of party food and a baked camembert, back to the sofa for more Michael Caine, and then the year was just about over.

Time to wish all who read this a Happy New Year.

2025: How was it for you

The year, for us, was divided clearly in two. The part before retirement and the part where we had retired.

I won’t lie, at times it felt that the day would never arrive, but the final month was so rushed that I ran out of time to do stuff, and had to give my soon to be former employer some of my own time to return their equipment.

Jools loved her job and the excitement of it, she felt she made a difference. For better or worse, I felt I wasn’t making a difference, and trying to reconcile that with my job as a lead auditor was difficult.

The start of the year begins with promise. Promise of more light, more warmth, and for us, more time to do the things we would rather be doing other than work. Jools wasn’t sure she’d enjoy retirement, and neither did I, especially once the days begin to drawn in in the autumn and there is less to do outside.

But after more meetings with our financial advisor, we were assured that we should stay in Chez Jelltex, and just enjoy the ride.

Looking at my shots of the day project, the ninth year I have done this, January and February seem mainly to be taken up with looking for signs of spring: snowdrops, aconites and lesser celandines locally, and in woodland, bluebells, anemones and the such. And butterflies.

In work, my employer worked me hard to get best value out of me in those last 12 working weeks. I did a large number of audits, wrote the reports, presented the findings and followed up on them, as well as trying to close out findings from previous year’s reports.

I can say I did my best.

At the end of February, I went to Denmark on my last ever business trip. It was supposed to be in conjunction with yet more audits, but details never became clear, and it was agreed not to do them, and I was free to travel without much work to be done, as it was my grand farewell.

I had to fly via Amsterdam, giving me a layover long enough to get a beer and people watch, as I’m won’t to do. But at the airport, walking from the gate to immigration and back out again, it was clear I was not that mobile.

This was clearer when on my last day in head office, I could not stand for longer than a few minutes as my colleagues said nice words and presented me with gifts.

I used to walk round Aarhus, but on this final trip, I would walk from bench to bench, annoyed at myself for letting things get so bad.

On the plus side, I was able to meet several former colleagues on the Friday night, and again on the Sunday in Aarhus and Esbjerg, for a few drinks and a catch up, all of us knowing this was really the last time.

Between, I stayed at my friend, Shaggy’s, place in the countryside to drop off some Bovril, Marmite, pork scratchings and share a few beers. We served in Germany together back in the 90s, and it was a real bonus to meet up most times I visited Denmark for work.

Back home, and there was a rush to finish all the tasks for work, and to prepare for retirement. I had not had a private phone for over a decade, so had to buy one, and after much pressure from colleagues kept my old work number as they all said they wanted contact details. Even if almost none of them ever called, except when prompted by myself.

So it goes.

Spring was in full effect, the days letting longer and warmer too. On the Monday of my last week, I had an audit, and had to write the report and present it before I finished on Friday. This meant my frazzled brain struggled for two days with the detail, but my co-auditor helped out and it came together.

So that on the 21st March, I did my travel expenses. Presented the audit findings and had one last farewell meeting with my department colleagues. I had pressed to have a meeting with HR about why I was leaving, and to make sure lessons learned were, well, learned. But he only got back to me two hours before I was due to finish, so declined, and when the time came, turned the loptop off for the final time.

I went straight on a Zoom meeting with Danny Baker, and he was stunned when I told him the conversation was my first task as a retiree, as I had finished 30 minutes previously.

Two weeks later, we were due to go to India, so Sylv was coming down to look after the cats and cat sit, so I went up with Jen to collect her, and before we arrived at her place, I visited head office in Warrington for the last time to drop off my IT equipment and get witnesses that I cut up my company credit card.

I was free.

That night the three of us went to a pub for a slap up meal and a few beers, before the next morning, loading the car for the drive back down to Kent. Where Sylv stayed at Jen’s for a week before moving in as we left to meet the taxi near Sandwich, that would transport most of the group to Heathrow for our evening flight to India.

You can read of our adventures in posts from April, and pictures of the wonderful things we saw and did. But again, for me, a stark reminder of how unfit I was. I had uncerated legs, caused by bad circulation and retaining water. 24 days of inactivity in India, either on planes, buses or in jeeps meant we did little actual walking, and only made my legs worse.

It came to a head as we arrived back in Delhi, and as I walked up the air bridge, sores weeping on my legs, I went to take a deep breath, and there was no air to breath in. My heart was pounding, and I had no energy to walk to the top. I made it, but sat down. Jools taught me some breathing exercies to help bring my heartbeat down, but for the remainder of the trip, I was unable to do more than walk to the jeeps or along to our hotel room.

The tour was changed, partly, due to my condition, which hurt.

Once back home, I filled in a form for our GP, and he was so concerned, I had an appointment with him in half an hour as my symptoms were the same for heart failure.

Very serious stuff.

Thankfully, after arriving back, my breathing improved, and we began, slowly at first, to go to the gym.

The phsio, Ray, who we go to, told me what was wrong with my legs, and culd only be fixed by increase bloodflow, and cycling would do the trick, I knew.

So, starting from 15 minutes twice a week, I built it up two or three minutes a week until I could do forty, then as summer moved into September, at which point we realised how less busy the gym was at weekends, so suddenly we were going four times a week.

After a gym visit, my feet would shrink back down to normal size nines, but over the next few hours, fluid would return, and so on and on. Until the fluid did not return. My swollen legs remained thinner, to the point where Jools noticed muscles and tendons in them. Finally, the ulcers stopped. Just dried up and have not come back, at least for the last two months.

All my cargo pants are now too big, so we donated to charity or thrown in the bin, and jeans that had been hanging up in the wardrobe, unworn, were now brought back into use. I won’t pretend one or two pairs are tighter than I’d like, but I am sure they’ll get looser in a few weeks.

I also cut down on drinking. Christmas notwithstanding. I worked out, it wasn’t hard,, that I was drinking a lot of wine per week. Easy to do when it comes in boxes. The final straw came when I had a blood test in August, and I was diabetic.

So, I reduced by over half my alcohol intake, didn’t drink three days a week, and just had a small bottle of beer other days.

The other positive impact has been improved skin condition, and non-itchy scalp any more. All good news, and a reason not to stop what I’m doing.

As the weeks and months passed, we found more things to do, and found ourselves busy most days of the week, doing something. Easy when its spring and summer.

I joined the U3A, and created a group to go churchcrawling. After all, its one of the things I know a bit about. So, once every two weeks we meet up at a church I suggest, and I curate the visit and try to not get the group too bored.

They say they want to continue not just in the new year, but through next winter too. I just hope I don’t run out of interesting churches!

The one thing we did want to do this year was to renovate the kitchen. This is probably the most disruptive work you can have done in a home, and although the selecting wat we wanted at the warehouse showroom was great, as the week approached when work was to start, I began to regret it.

That was nothing compared to when after the first day, the kitchen and utility room had been stripped or everything, just the bare walls, and so there was no going back. The next day, the new electrical cables were embedded in the walls, and so began the two and a half week process of installing the units skeletons, and gubbins.

After then days, they were all in, and two guys came with a laser machine to measure for the worktops, which would take a week to cut to size. A week later, the tops were installed and the faca fitted, the sink and hob fitted, though the glue would take a day to set. So, some 13 days after work began, we had a sink and cooker with hob we could use.

Through the weekend, the walls were painted, this took longer than expected because as the weather changed towards winter, paint took longer to dry. But at the end of day 17, it was done. The guys left and we had our dream kitchen.

And that brings us to November, and the long, gentle slope towards Christmas and New Year.

Neither of us really miss work now. Well, that’s not true. We miss people, and maybe the problem solving and so on, but the freedom to do what we want when we want is intoxicating. And I don’t think we really want to go back to work, even if they could offer us enough.

I can have a hair cut any morning, not just Sundays. And if we want breakfast or lunch out, we go.

And same for orchiding, I can go midweek when there are less people about, or when the weather is fine, and rather go out the whole day, if needed a few shorter trips are done.

I could turn my attention to the wider world and its problems, but you hear enough of that on news broadcasts. Its as bad as anything I have known during my life, and only likely to get worse in the new year.

So there’s cheerful.

We didn’t go to the cinema this year, nor the theatre. And I saw just the one gig, The Wedding Present on a very warm evening in autumn at The Booking Hall, some 39 years and nearly three months after I saw them the first time.

We only bought one record this year, the new LP by Public Service Broadcasting, but then took me over 250 days to get round to play it.

I read a bit. Mostly non-fiction, but the final instalment in Phillip Pullman’s Book of Dust series was published and read. Not sure what I was expecting at the end, certainly not the one Pullman wrote. Still it was an enjoyable tome.

Little TV watched either, and no inclination to. It is now 16 years since I stopped going to sea, and my TV addiction never really returned. We watched some over COVID, but I soon grew bored and stopped.

Pretty much all I watch is football. Because it takes my mind of the shit going on in the world. I try to block most of it out, but am aware of the dreadful events in Gaza and elsewhere, which the west fails to stop, instead sells Israel more weapons.

I turned sixty in August. We had been planning events for a while. I say planning. It was more like talk about planning. The problem was, that it fell on Bank Holiday Monday, and everywhere was booked up years in advance.

And then the thought of spending hours in a hall with music booming out and having to dance, and it costing in excess of £1100 an hour for the privilege. We talked about it so long, we ran out of time, and the last minute plan to go to the Hoptomist for the afternoon was cancelled as Sean was working on his house instead, so could not attend.

It is also twenty years since I left the RAF. Five more years than I actually served. I did attend two ceremonies: one the unveiling of a memorial to those of our trade we lost at the National Memorial Arboretum, then to attend the Remembrance Day Parade past the Cenotaph in Whitehall.

So, in short, its been quite the year. One of the best,

wishing you all a very Happy New Year.

Tuesday 30th December 2025

It seems to have been several weeks since we had any rain to speak of.

Which may be odd for those in the north and west of the UK, but pretty much most storms that swept across the country did so in missing the south east corner of England, of which we are the most south east corner of.

So, awake at four in the morning, it was good to hear rain falling, meaning the soil would get damp and so not blown away if a gale did blow through.

And when we rose, the rain was still falling, revealing a downpipe had come away from the guttering, and was showring the upper patio with water.

That'll need to be fixed.

Anyways, after coffee we head to the gym to do another session. No gala on, so there just us gymrats and the swimmers heading to splash in the pool.

We went upstairs and did our time on the bikes, me listening to another podcast which perfectly lasted forty minutes.

Thing is, cycling didn't hurt my back, but the walk to and from the gym was pretty painful, and with the keen northerly in our faces, not pleasant. But I did no further damage.

Which was nice.

And I am pretty sure its easing.

Or it could be the drugs.

The rain eased, but we didn't go out. Or I didn't. Jools went to Jen's to check on her heating, to make sure the house was warm when she comes back at the weekend.

I spend most of the day writing a blog post which will go up later on Wednesday.

Lunch was most of the leftover salt beef in rolls. The remainder and what was left of the roast beef was minced and I made two cottage pies to be put in the freezer for another day.

The day faded, so we ate cheese and crackers for supper, then there was football on the tellybox, the last games of the year, ending with Arsenal thrashing the in-form team, Villa, 4-1.

Monday 29th December 2025

There is an article in yesterday's Eastern Daily Press, that a Norfolk man is trying to sell one of these coins for £40,000, or a few quid over that.

Millions were made in that minting year of 2023.

We found two King Charles III pound coins in our change yesterday, so you have the pair for twenty grand.

Deal?

Anyway. Monday.

We are trying to get to normality, difficult when the gym doesn't open until eight, but Monday was a rest day, anyway, so no phys.

Instead we went to Tesco to get some much needed supplies.

Stuff. Coffee, muesli, butter, bread and yogurt.

That was £105.

And was a struggle to get round, as the day before I managed to knack my back tying the laces on my left trainer.

It had eased somewhat, but all chair designers seem to incorporate in their chairs, a part that presses right on the place where the pain was.

I was in no mood to do much. Other than laze around the house listening to music and or watching videos on that YouTube.

Jools went out in the car. I stayed back shifting uncomfortably in my office chair.

Talking of which, we tightened up the nuts and bolts on it later, and is like a new chair. At least the seat's not at a rakish angle now.

And so another lazy day betwixt Christmas and New Year played out. And not being a holiday, there wasn't any football until six in the evening.

Lunch/dinner, eaten at just after two, is hash, made using another new frying pan, after I gave up with the stainless steel one. And no issue with the non-stick. I figured we have so much forever chemicals inside us, another non-stick pan can't do much more damage.

Anyway, the potatoes not only didn't stick, but we all wonderfully crispy, so I dished up and we ate well whilst listening to Desert Island Discs.

And then football: top of the table clash between Coventry and Ipswich, which was a fine game, won by Town 2-0, meaning they had put five past the Sky Blues in two games this month, with no reply.

Then, Norwich not on TV, so I follow via the radio, and are undone by a last minute goal against Watford at home.

Sunday 28th December 2025

Welcome to Twixmas.

It is that period between Christmas and New Year in which days and indeed, time itself no long matters.

Bin day is moved, so that anchor is removed. Only thing to be sure is when the gym s open.

It reopened on Saturday, at eight, same for Sunday. I thought either it would be crazy busy or very few folks would bother.

What I didn't know was that there was the first day of a two day swimming gala, and most children in Dover, Deal and Walmer would be trying to get in.

There was people, parents and hyperactive children everywhere.

We made our way through the crowds, then up to the gym where it was quite busy, but our two machines were free.

For forty minutes I listened to a podcast on Jane Austin and her links with farming. Not very exciting, but engaging enough to take my mind off the slow ticking of time as I pedalled.

In putting on my shoes and tying the laces, I managed to pull something in my back. Ok to cycle, but painful in almost any other seat.

Once back I put on an ice pack and use the massager.

It eased off.

So before lunch, I went out to gather some beer from the offy in Walmer. As much as I like porters and stouts, either with or without chocolate and/or coffee, I decided a simple tripel or something would be nice.

So I drove into Walmer, traffic was quiet, but heading down Station Road, a car pulled out of the stables in front of me, then went along at 5mp/h before turning.

I had my lights on, so no real excuse, just crap driving.

Anyway, I get into Walmer safe and sound, buy twenty quid's worth of beer, and am back on the road in five minutes.

Instead of going straight home, I go down through the village and down the cliffs to The Bay.

Many others had the same idea, and few seemed to understand that the narrow twisty road required one of the two or more passing cars to pull in to make way.

Not helped by camper vans going down the road which it really was too narrow and twisty for.

There are two spaces just outside the formal car park, and people justle for these to avoid paying 50p an hour.

I don't pay, as I'm going to be there for ten minutes, so walk along the stone-strewn prom to take pictures of the cliff rising to the south, then to the other end to snap Noel Coward's house.

I had no coat, of course, so I wander back to the car, stopping to talk to a couple from Hatfield (and the North) who were amazed to find their phones had picked up on French mobile service.

After chatting to them, I reach the car and drive up, following two German vans meaning all traffic coming down had to give way to us.

I get home safe, despite the crazy and thoughtless parking outside the village shop, getting home in time for lunch.

Lunch was cranberry topped pork pie, slaw and pickles, followed about an hour later by a slice of the second Christmas cake, which was very good indeed.

Being a Sunday, there was "Super" Sunday football: Sunderland v Leeds, which ended an enjoyable 1-1 draw, but that was followed by Palace v Spurs, a poor game decided by a poor goal to give Spurs a 1-0 win.

Peanuts and beer for supper. My back was too sore for the sofa, so we listened to music before going to bed at nine.

Saturday 27th December 2025

I watch a lot of YouTube videos, some on the science behind cooking, and how to improve things.

One was roast potatoes: choosing the right kind, then soaking to remove starch before roasting in duck fat. And for Yorkshire puddings, to use equal volumes of eggs, plain flour, and milk.

This creates a runnier batter than I would have made, but works. But only if you make it the night before, and left it rest in the fridge overnight.

Remix it, and put it in hot fat, and cook of max heat.

Toad-in-the-hole is a Yorkshire Pudding, with sausages or sausage meat in it.

So, with the batter made the previous night, the sausages cooked in the air fryer, then both put in an oval pan which had been in a very hot oven for twenty minutes, then cook for fifteen to twenty minutes, by which time it looked like this.

I wrote a full blog here ten minutes ago, and now its gone.

Bugger.

So, the gym has been closed two days over Christmas, and was only to open seven hours per day from eight, so was either going to be quiet or crazy busy.

After coffee we leave for Whitfield, and in our eagerness to get on a machine, we had to wait in the cold for five minutes wither the other gymrats while staff tried to open the automatic doors.

Once inside, up to the gym and on the bike, so I set up a podcast to listen to, and start pedalling.

Not much to report, the forty minutes went easy, so at nine, we were ready to come home for a brew and breakfast.

Potatoes are peeled and soaked, then I go for a shower and change, ready to start cooking.

The boiled potatoes are put in hot oil, then onto the oven at its highest setting. Vegetables prepped, the batter brought out of the fridge and whisked again.

With half an hour before the potatoes were done, the cooked sausages put into a hot oiled pan with the batter and cooked until the batter rose like mountains.

It was all perfect, including the last of the gravy left from Christmas dinner. So I dish up and it is as good as it looks.

We even had fizz to go with it.

After clearing away and washing up, there's nothing left to do other than take to the sofa and try to follow the five Premier League games on the radio.

Then came Chelsea v Villa, in which Chelsea dominated for 60 minutes but only scored once. Villa made changes and outplayed the hosts in the final third, Watkins scoring twice meaning Villa carry on their winning streak to 11 games.

We round the day watching When Harry Met Sally, as well observed now as it was when filmed.

Friday 26th December 2025

Boxing Day.

The second day of sloth.

Not much to get up for this day, nothing really happening until lunchtime when the football would start.

We sleep in to six, then get up to check, inject and feed Scully and feed the rest of the cats.

Coffee is made, and outside the sun is just below the horizon, the sky clear.

Shall we go shopping?

No, we shall not.

We have enough food in the fridge to last us into next week, so there's no rush to Tesco or any other shop.

We have breakfast and a brew, and ponder what to do with the rest of the morning.

We have stuffing and pigs in blankets rolls for an early lunch. The meat is warmed in the air fryer, which works pretty good.

By which time the football was about to begin.

First up, Ipswich played against Millwall, and though dominating, Town could not score.

That was quickly followed by Norwich against Charlton, which was a poor game, though won by City with a turn and shot from Makama, his ninth of the season.

After supper of party food, we settle down to watch Jaws, which Jools had never seen. I first saw it when it came out as a ten year old, taken to see the AA film by a friend of Mum's.

Jools jumped at the head in the boat scene, of course. And the final scene always seemed too fantastic to be believed, when the reast of the film seemed based on reality.

Still, a fine film.

The year in orchids: 2025

I wasn't going to do a post about orchids, as here in Kent nothing of much import to report. But that doesn't mean there was nothing to comment on.

Last winter and spring were very dry. So much so that if affected some species to the point where whole sites failed.

Nowhere was this so evident than at Sandwich Bay, where almost all the thousands of Lizard Orchids failed, and those that did grow and flower, were stunted.

Elsewhere around Sandwich, those beside roads seem to have benefited from spray, and there were hundreds of spikes to be found, some even very pale, with little pigmantation.

Earlier species did OK, mostly. Its hard to judge how bad the Early Spiders were at Samphire Hoe, as numbers there vary from year to year, based on boom years when much seed is set, then the seven year wait for plants to mature and flower.

I counted less than 50, though I could have missed some.

Inland, Early Purples were later than the Early Spiders.

I saw my first Early Spider high on a cliff, out of reach, the day before we left for India. We had been visiting Earley Wood weekly to check on the Eaarly Purples, but none were close to flowering before we left. And by the time we returned, many were already fading.

So it goes.

In the woods, it was a boom year for Lady Orchids, lots of magnificent spikes, and even a pure white spike at Barham.

Sadly, no Burnt Tips appeared, and along the route to them, I failed to find any downland Early Spiders, though others did find them.

Over at Marden, the display of Green-wings was as impressive as ever, maybe even more so as the meadow near the car park has more spikes year on year.

On another positive note, Lesser Butterflies reappeared at Barham after nearly a six year gap, though I only found out late in the season after that had gone over. But, something to search for next year.

Monkeys at PGD were in good numbers, though smaller than usual because of the drought, and browned off very quickly.

A large colony of Bee Orchids appeared in the shared grassed area of a housing development in Walmer. A member of the HOS told me about it, and offered to show me the 150 plus spikes. These were in a marked contrast to the species elsewhere, where numbers crashed due to to the lack of water early in the year.

Numbers of the Helleborine species in July were also down, though if you looked hard enough there were spikes of BLH to find, but at Barham, I found just three spikes of VH.

To close the season, numbersof Autumn Lady's Tresses were down too, and spikes quickly turned brown once pollenated. I only went once up on the Temple Ewell Down to look for them.

We only left the county once for orchids: a super-secret trip to the west country to see the rarest of the rare, Red Helleborine, which seemed to have their best year in nearly two decades.

My trip to the New Forest to see Heath Fragrants was sucppered duew to the drought conditions, and a landrover driver who flatted most of the colony early spring.

So it goes, so it goes.

Thursday 25th December 2025

Christmas Day.

Peace and goodwill to all of mankind.

As I have said before, I have no family left and Jools's family is pretty much all away or won't leave their house for the duration.

However, Sean and Ange agreed to come round to share in our bounty on the Big Day, so all to play for.

With the gym closed, I laid in to quarter past seven, and felt much better for it.

We had coffee, breakfast. Before I got started on Christmas lunch.

Potatoes to be peeled and soaked to remove starch. Beef removed from the fridge to bring it to room temperature.

Through the morning was split between reading old blog posts, and doing a bit more of Christmas dinner prep.

I heated both ovens up at quarter to midday, with the beef going in at quarter past midday, and the boiled, drained and dried potatoes going in quarter of an hour later.

Vegetables were prepped and so ready for steaming when the time came.

Soon the kitchen smelled of roasting beef, making us hungry.

Sean and Ange arrived just before one. I poured drinks and went back to the finishing touches in the kitchen.

At half one the beef was done, so the vegetables were put on and the pigs in blankets cooked in the air fryer.

The final act was to make the gravy with juices from the beef and the last of the stock I made back in September, kept frozen for this very occasion.

It all came together at two. I dished up with help from Jools. For the most part it had been stress free due to good planning.

Two mouthfuls in, I realised the pigs in blankets were still in the airfryer, so got them out and put two on each of the towering plates.

Cheers.

And dear readers, it beat me. First time not being able to finish Christmas dinner. Maybe it was the extra pigs in blanket, or the extra crispy roast potato.

So, I took to the sofa while we talked, and I broke out the Vin Santo for Sean to try.

They left at five, so Jools had done much of the washing up, helped with the last bits and pieces.

We needed no supper.

We sat down to watch the Christmas edition of Gone Fishing, then after scouring the i-player, I found Get Carter, a film I had never seen!

So, not very festive, but a good film, more as a time capsule from industrial Newcastle, Sunderland and Blyth, lots of great industrial cityscapes, and shots inside grim bars and clubs, making it all seem a world away and seedy at the same time.

And the film carries on to completion never once addressing how Geordie Jack Carter had a flawless Cockernee accent. No one seemed to notice.

Wednesday 24th December 2025

Christmas Eve.

In a brave mood, we planned to head to the gym for the forth day out of five.

The gym will be closed Christmas day and Boxing Day, so we thought we had better make the best of it, and anyway, we would have two days rest.

I did sleep to half five, and struggled to wake fully drinking coffee before we left for the sports centre at ten past six, arriving at twenty past.

Not many people were there, just the usual faces I suspect.

With the wind in the north east and keen, it cut through us as it blew into our faces as we hurried to the entrance.

I did half an hour. I could have done more, but it seemed enough. So, I left Jools to do ten more minutes, go downstairs and have a coffee as I waited.

When we got home, I made a batch of sausage rolls for breakfast, which due to our appetite, we ate all of.

With huge brews, of course.

Then time for a shower and change before a morning of not doing much, other than boiling the salt beef joint.

Growing up, I hated cold meats, and would have sausages whenever my parents had leftover cold cuts. And then I got it, and salt beef is one of the things I like, especially when made into sandwiches and/or rolls to go with wholegrain mustard and pickles.

Into our biggest pot when three roughly chopped onions, some carrots, assorted spices and the beef. Add a handful of peppercorns and bring to the boil, then simmer for three hours.

The kitchen and house filled with the aroma of the beef, and the kitchen too with the steam, coating the windows and so hiding the bright sunny day from view.

Once cooked until tender, so tender it was almost impossible to carve, I make rolls for us with dill pickles and lashings of mustard and a beer/cider to wash it down with.

In the afternoon, with another brew, the final slice of the first Christmas cake was eaten, before we sat down to watch Funeral in Berlin, the second of the Harry Palmer films, following on from the Ipcress Files.

It was stylish, without being over-complicated. Everyone was double-crossing everyone else, except for Michael Caine, who got the lady and was right all along.

And that was Christmas Eve, really.

A glass of Vin Santo in the evening, listen to some music. And to bed at nine, lest Santa might not call.

Tuesday 23rd December 2025

It is nearly Christmas.

And somehow, we had managed to book another Christmas meal out with friends.

Before that, there was, is always, the gym.

It would have been easy to bail, but as well as cycling, after we had to go to Preston to collect our order from the butcher.

The alarm went off at quarter past five, Jools went down to feed the cats and test Scully. Coffee was made, and we drank that and got ready to go out.

They gym isn't quite so crowded as a normal mid-week morning. There were spaces in the area nearer the entrance.

But the wind had swung round, and instead of the walk to the entrance being in the lea of the wind, instead it was a walk into the teeth of strong winds, made sharper as temperatures had began to fall.

There will be frosts by Christmas Day, but for now it felt bloody cold.

For the first time, there was no cycling round a city somewhere in the world, or a ride in the cab of a train. Instead I just listened to the Sound of Football Christmas podcast, mostly with my eyes closed.

Time slipped by anyway, and soon forty minutes had slipped by, and I packed up my stuff and went down to wait for Jools to finish her session in the pool.

And then into the car to drive along the Sandwich Road, before crossing over the marshes to Preston.

In the pre-dawn, the shop's lights and festive signs burned bright and welcoming.

I went inside, and as usual, the bags containing orders were ready, so I remember my number, the bag is found and I pay. I leave them with a small bottle of sloe gin, which is sampled and declared a vintage, as it was so smooth.

Back home then, back to Sandwich then taking the road into Deal and along the coast through Walmer to home, so to avoid Dover port, just in case queues had built in the last hour.

Sometimes, its good to travel the long way, rather than rush around. We had all day.

We get back home.

We were hungry. So I make pigs in blankets in cheesy rolls for breakfast. Given the choice between that and muesli, revealed that there was no choice.

After breakfast, I have a shower and shave, then pull on a pair of jeans I have not worn for a decade. They just about fit, and I look like an over-stuffed sausage, but its an improvement.

At half twelve, we leave for Lydden, the roads were quiet, and it was easy to drive to Whitfield and down the hill.

Through Lydden to the Bell at the far end, found a parking space, and we were walking to the door when Ange and Sean arrive, so we wait while they parked, and walk back to us.

We hug, and go inside.

We were the only ones partaking in the Christmas menu, while others had fish and chips or burgers.

Our table was laid with crackers and festive napkins, so we sat down, ordered drinks and waited for the first course.

In the meantime, a small bowl, well cup, of spicy pumpkin soup was brought for us as an amuse bouche.

The first course arrived, we each had something different. Me, a baked camembert and crusty bread.

I chose well.

For the main course we all had roast turkey, roast potatoes, gravy and vegetables.

Not as good as mine, but then I didn't have to cook or wash up.

We toast ourselves, and pull the crackers so we could crack corny joked and were paper crowns.

Tis the season.

For dessert we have a cheeseboard each, while Sean and myself also have a glass or port.

Because.

Cheers.

Three hours later, we were stuffed. Outside it was getting dark, so we part outside, and Jools drove us back home, back along the quiet roads where, once inside, we lock the doors, close the curtains and keep the cruel world out.

We have a drink and some peanuts for supper, the cats were fed, and quiet settled on the house.

Jools watched more of the Dr Who spin-off, and I watched stuff on YouTube until the last game before Christmas, Arsenal v Palace kicked off in the League Cup.

An OK game, went to penalties, until Palace missed the 16th spot kick to hand the win to the Gooners.

On the wrong track

There is no right time to undertake major repairs of the nation's railways.

Bank holiday, Christmas and Easter are chosen as much commuter and business travel is reduced. But this causes problems for leisure travel, and those wanting to visit family and friends.

Yesterday, BBC News In Depth pages, looked at the engineering work on the railways, and in particular, work to replace a junction just north of Milton Keyens on the West Coast Main Line (WCML).

"The £26m project they'll be working on this Christmas is one of the biggest scheduled across the country: Hanslope Junction, a crucial part of the West Coast Main Line, which is wearing out.

Each day almost 500 trains use it and an increasing number of faults are causing delays, the repercussions of which ripple throughout the network. Now, the whole thing, comprising four tracks, is to be re-laid.

It's a giant and complicated jigsaw puzzle of 130 separate track panels - not something that can be done when trains are roaring up and down. So, it will leave passengers with no trains between Milton Keynes and Rugby and Milton Keynes and Northampton not just late on Christmas Eve and on Christmas Day (as is usually the case) but up until the morning of 5 January. It means no direct trains linking London Euston with north-west England and Scotland for 11 full days.

It's a similar story up and down the country, with other projects, too, like updating signalling technology. In all, 5% of the rail network will be shut down over the festive period - part of a £160m engineering project organised by Network Rail."

The WCML is wearing out and is full. Full of express, semi-fast, local and freight services. If only there was some project that would help ease this.

HS2 is being built, but just as a high speed branch line from London to Birmingham, the most important and financiially rewarding parts north of Birmingham, and the Y junction to Leeds and Manchester have been cancelled.

Instead of HS2, Labour, the Conservatives and the Greens tell us that the WCML should be upgraded. This is upgrade work, and will close the line for two weeks. Two decades ago when the WCML was upgraded, it took ten years and ten billion pounds, and barely kept up with growth, and delivered a decade of blockades and closures for those who use the line.

HS2 gave the nation a generational oportunity to massively increase capacity, but without any of the blockades and closures. But rhe Conservatives kept changing the project, adding to costs, and then pulled the plug. Labour has not reversed that, nor has it said it will.

HS2 can unloack national growth, as express services swithing to HS2 would free up capacity for additional services on the WCML and much more freight too. Freight could be taken off the roads, delays reduced and increase efficiency.

But not now.

21st century trains running on a 19th century railway.

When it can.

Monday 22nd December 2025

Monday morning of Christmas week. And we are pretty much set for the big day, other than having to go to the butchers on Tuesday.

But I needed a haircut. I meant to go last week, before the schools closed, but ran out of time, so aimed to be at the door of one of the barbers come half eight Monday morning.

A slow start to the day: Jools didn't go swimming, so we had coffee before leaving the house at quarter past eight, driving into town at the height of what would normally be the school run, but this morning the roads were empty.

Down into town, I park, then walk up by the church and see that the barber opposite is open, well, gone in and turned the lights on, so I go over and see if I need an appointment.

I don't, so am shown into the chair, and he gets to work, under the supervision of his teenage son, who looks closely at my hair as it is shorn.

Not as good as the other place, but good enough to get into the New Year, so I pay and leave.

Jools had gone for a walk, so she messages me to go and have a coffee.

Which I obey.

I also buy a large slice of cherry shortbread, as who can't say no to shortbread?

Jools arrives and tells me of the new decoration in the Newbridge Underpass leading to and from the promenade.

After drinking my coffee, we walk over Market Square and down the slope into the underpass.

It sure is colourful, and full of historical information. Previously it was hand-painted boats that might have visited the port, this is brighter and better.

Then back home for a shave and a change of clothes, as we were going out for lunch.

We have not seen Mary since January, we had planned to meet up but life and stuff got in the way. I mean we're retired now so there is no excuse, but anyway.

At least there is no jams to the port now, the worst is past, so we go down Jubilee Way and along Townwall Street before heading up towards Folkestone.

We had an hour, so decide to go for a walk at Samphire Hoe.

I mean Jools goes for a walk while I look for Early Spider Orchid rosettes. Some walking was involved.

It was at least a bright, calm day, so a pleasant walk beside the railway line, even if I didn't see a single rosette. The cattle had churned up the ground into deep mud, the orchids will show in due course.

I walk for half an hour, then turn round and go back, meeting Jools at the visitor centre.

A quick blast up the A20 to Capel, then into Folkestone and down The Tram Road beside the old line to Folkestone Harbour. I wanted to see what was going on with the bus station, as it has closed and the small car park we sometimes use is now closed and being partly used by buses.

We find a place to park my The Leas, walk down the Promenade to the war memorial, and opposite is the Gurkha Restaurant where we were to meet Mary for lunch.

It was so good to see Mary again, as she was on fine form now recovered from her accident a couple of years back. We talked as we ordered food, lamb Gurkha curry for Jools and I, and soft drinks.

The curry was the right size, not too big. So we ate, talked and made plans for more meet ups in the new year.

Our parking was running out, so we paid up and walked back to the car park. One last hug with Mary, and we climbed in the car to dive back, along the Alkham valley so to avoid the port traffic, just in case.

The low sun cast warm colours and long shadows of the woods along the valley. Up through River, Whitfield Hill and finally along the A2 to home.

Always good to get home.

And a welcoming committee of four meowy cats, all demanding dinner, two and a half hours early.

In order to be able to ignore them, I boil the kettle and we have a brew and one last man-sized slice from the first Christmas cake, and then retire to opposite corners of Chez Jelltex to pursue our hobbies.

After feeding the cats, we ponder what to have for supper. There was still over a third of the focaccia, so I had the bright idea of cutting it into fingers, halving those before toasting the crust sides, and after turning them over, laying a slice of vintage cheddar on them to toast and turn molten.

Turns out that was genius, and delicious, more so with a pint of Shepherd Neame Christmas ale to wash it down with.

There was football in the evening, but I bail at half time with Fulham winning 1-0 against Forest.

Sunday 21st December 2025

At 15:03 GMT, the winter solstice occured, and so from that moment there will be a little more light each day.

As ever, at first the changes will be so slight we will not notice, but come the end of January, we will notice, then the increase will acceperate until we reach 21st March, while after that there will still be more light each day, the daily increase will lessen each day.

Anyway. Sunday was bright and sunny.

Its Sunday again.

It would be nice to lay in bed, but I don't want to get fat feet, so am up at six, and after coffee we are out of the door just before seven.

Jools goes swimming, while i go to the bike, and instead of cycling round a city or national park, I go to You Tube as the bike has internet access, and line up a video from a train cab in Switzerland.

Only trouble with that was not being able to see the info page or the time ticking, so as the train sped through the snow-covered fields of Switzerland, the time passed.

I did know the podcast I was listening to had only 44 minutes left t run when I started, so get to the end or near the end, and I would have done it.

I did three minutes short. Which is OK, and as I though Jools would go to the steam room after her swim, I got a coffee and sat down with a flapjack too.

Jools appeared.

No sauna.

So I drank up and we left via the petrol station at Tesco, and then home.

We had another brew, listened to the radio before I had a shower and changed, again.

The morning passed.

We ate at one: grilled duck breast, flavoured rice, creamed spinach, sprouts with bacon and peas.

All very nice and fairly healthy. Apart from the duck, the cream in the spinach and the streaky bacon.

And the beer.

And football in the afternoon. Rangers up first, losing to Hearts in Scottish kickyball. Then Villa v Man Utd, which was good, and Villa won.

Earlier, England lost The Ashes in 11 days. 11 days to lose three tests. It happened overnight when I slept, so can pretend it never happened.