Wednesday 29th January 2025

Aka the night of chaos.

Aka the night of too much football. This is the first season that the Champions League and the other two European competitions switched rom groups of four teams playing each other home and away, to a group of 36 who play each other, mostly, once. Some don't play each other at all.

The top eight go through to the round of 16. The next 16 go into a playoff round next month, the bottom 12 go home.

And all games kicked off at 20:00 GMT and promised chaos. But delivered, mostly, as expected.

Citeh had to win and hope results elsewhere went their way so they finished 24th or higher, other than that, the other three English teams were all nailed on to finish in the top eight.

Before that there was the rest of Wednesday.

Rain. Cloud. More cloud. But after a bright start, and the half arsed promised I made to do some gardening failed as the rain began to fall at two.

Jools brought home fish and chips. Sausage and chips, that is. I had brews and warm plates ready, then sat with Scully and Poppy to follow the games and the chaos.

Citeh were 1-0 down at halftime to Brugges, but fought back to win and qualify for the play-offs, winning 3-1.

Not good enough

When asked which she preferred: bats or newts, Chancellor Rachel Reeves said she preferred neither, she wanted growth.

And that there is the problem with Labout in power: they are trying to deliver the policies that they think the Mail and Express want.

Growth, while outside the EU is almost impossible, therefore to suggest wrecking decades of environmental protection to deliver growth is the only answer, is plain wrong.

Rejoining the SM and/or CU would deliver almost double digit growth without having to gut environmental protections.

I can't seriously support such a Government, even a Labour one, that is so willing to scrap local planning laws. These might not be perfect, and NIMBYism at times, but its the best we have.

Building on the green belt, destroying meadows, woods, fields and parks will result in things, climate change, only getting worse.

And a mere five years ago, Labour voted against Heathrow expansion, now Reeves is all for it, all in the name of growth.

Neverending growth is impossible, Enron taught us that, but it seems Labour did not get the memo.

And there's no point in supporting the Greens who opposed the greatst green transport project, HS2, while supporting public transport, apparently.

I comment on football so much as its easier to deal with than politics and real life.

So endeth the lesson.

Tuesday 28th January 2025

A day of several weathers.

But at least the wind finally dropped so the howling and roaring of the last week was now silent.

Its the second day of Jools training her replacement, so she leaves for work just after six to try to keep up with normal work.

I hear her moving about, so I end getting up at ten past five, make coffee while Jools has a shower and get dressed.

And so is gone. So I put a podcast on, and wait for dawn to come, which due to the heavy rain outside, came very late indeed, in fact it was still pitch black at half six. Dawn did come, a pale light chasing the shadows away, but slowly.

I am all caught up at work, but with Henrik and Rune back, I have people to talk to, and to bounce ideas off.

On top of that, Rune and I have been given an ill-defined task to do. We have done our best, but need guidance.

We have a meeting with one of the two people who have been assigned to be our interim manager. We tall her the situation, show evidence, and she says, cancel the activity.

Simple.

I run out of enthusiasm at half one, and could feel a migraine coming on, so its up to bed for a laydown in the dark.

The afternoon passes.

I get up and prepare the batter for fritters. I feed the cats and have a brew.

Outside, the sun has come out, though was by then setting, so its going to be a cold night

After eating, we tidy up and make a final brew of the day.

Another day gone.

Monday 27th January 2025

After this week I have just eight working Monday mornings to look forward to.

These things are important I feel.

Jools calls me, it was five past six, and time was getting on. Outside the latest storm raged on, throwing rain at next door's west facing walls, and had blown the bedroom window wide open and the curtains out getting wet too.

I pulled the curtains in, close the window and go to the bathroom.

Outside it was getting light, though not by much. Coffee was waiting on the table, and so began another blue Monday in Chez Jelltex.

Back when I started the shot a day project, I was travelling much more than now, so a shot of where I was, or out of the plane did fine. But now with these endless wintery days of wind and rain, I really am running things to take shots of, it would be the evening before i found today's subject.

Next year will be the tenth year I think of the project, and a good point to end. So I press on.

I start work, not much to deal with either, so I stop to make a brew and have breakfast. There's a pause in the rain, so I go outside to fill the feeders and scatter sunflower hearts for the birds.

And back inside, back to work.

Lunch is oatcakes with fresh butter and marmalade, and is as wonderful as ever.

And filling.

Work slows to a stop, I log off and listen to the radio as darkness falls outside.

No cooking as we're off to the gym, so I wait for Jools to return.

And at half six we head out. No fog this week, but there is damp on the teeth of the wind, and soon will be throwing it down.

I have to use one of the upright cycles, but causes all sorts of pressure on my back, so seven minutes in I swap to the recumbent one and do the rest of the work out to a soundtrack of Blancmage, David Bowie and Dire Straits.

I sit in the car to listen to the discussion on Spurs while more people come and go and the heaven open and rain pours down.

At eight, Jools comes out. I pick her up at the entrance, and once back home, cats are fed and I put the pizza in to cook, and ten minutes later we're eating.

Sunday 26th January 2025

Sunday.

And a day that began with sunshine and fairly calm conditions which would turn to gales and heavy rain in the afternoon, so if we were going to do anything, it would have to be early.

So it was that soon after half eight we were heading to Samphire Hoe to get some steps in and for me to look for orchid rosettes.

Jools had come down on Saturday, and found the place jammed due to the sunny weather, but on a now dull and increasingly breezy Sunday morning, just us and the dogwalkers about, as the sea wall was too dangerous for fishing.

I walked up and down the metalled track beside the railway, looking hard, but I saw no sign of an orchid. The ground had been churned up well by the cattle, and the orchids will survive that, but not one rosette to be seen.

And just gorse in flower, the Carline Thistle seen was last summer's gone to seed.

After 90 minutes we were back at the car and driving home. Jen was watching the Australian Open final, so we let her be, instead going home so I could prepare lunch, peel and soak the potatoes for lunch of toad in the hole, roast potatoes and steamed veg.

Toad in the hole is the bastard offspring of Yorkshire pudding and sausages: simply a Yorkshire with sausages in it. And I had thought on Friday how good it would be to have toad in the hole over the weekend.

The sausages were rolled up sausage meat, just like Grandad used to make. The batter had to be prepared the day before, so to rise properly.

I don't know how to describe the flavours of toad in the hole, roast potatoes, vegetables and gravy, but the flavours, textures, especially with the crispy ends of the pudding and the superb roast potatoes made it a delight.

Just what I had wanted.

Only problem was to stay awake during the afternoon. The first half of the Palace v Brentford game was 1-0 at half time, but when I awake from my slumber, it was 1-2.

Villa v West Ham was underwhelming to be honest, ended 1-1.

By which time the weekend was nearly over with, and with hot cross buns for supper and a fresh, strong brew, it was soon time for bed, and the week ahead beckoned.

Saturday 25th January 2025

I switched on the laptop Saturday morning to see an official notice of the death of one of my former colleagues and friend, Hans Peter, in Denmark.

I only found out a week agao that he was seriously ill and had been for two years. He spent his last days in a hospice.

He was 59 years old, the same age as myself.

Form whom the bell tolls, we know not.

Another weekend where we did have plans, and yet it was all too easy to cancel them.

Truth is, the 14,000 or so steps i did Friday had made my thighs ache, and my back was telling my brain how much it hurt.

And although the day started out with rain, skies would soon clear and it would be sunny. But we were tired little troopers.

I went to Tesco on my own again. This time the shopping only coming to about sixty five quid, though with no beer or cleaning products. Anyway, being the last weekend of the month, spending less is always good.

Back home for ten past eight, I make breakfast of fruit and fresh brews, while Jools puts the shopping away.

So for the morning I did some cleaning in the kitchen, emptied the bins and watched birds in the garden. Made all the more dramatic by the arrival of a Raven, half filling the back garden. This means we have had all seven resident UK corvids in the garden already this year, and its only the end of January. And that included Choughs as we have had two visitations by them already, after their reintroduction up at Dover Castle.

By the time Norwich kicked off at half twelve, it was sunny outside. As they played we ate chorizo hash and drank beer. City 1-0 up in a dull and uninspiring first half. Conceded a leveller soon after the restart. Got one back, then in a five minute period near the end, scored three more. 5-1.

No idea where that came from.

Scully and I sat on the sofa listening to the games on the radio and watching Final Score.

And after that, Citeh came from behind to beat Chelsea, as we munched on fresh sausage rolls for our supper.

The darkest days are over

I read a post on Blue Sky that said as off the 22nd January, the ten darkest weeks of the year were behind us.

What is sure is that from now on, the change in amount of daylight will become increasinly obvious.

For obvious reasons, this January has flown by, much quicker than in previous years, and the realisation that Jools and I have about 9 weeks, maybe a little less, to work.

I look most days around the garden for signs of spring flowers. Not much sign yet, but they are coming.

And there is the fact I go to the gym now. Not much, just once a week, but it is a start, and its not something to avoid now.

Change is happening, even if the changes are small.

We were meant to be giving up booze through the week, but somehow that doesn't seem to work. Maybe we should try this week. Every other day to start with?

At work, Jools says she is being sidelined as plans for the rest of the year are being made, plans which obviously do not include her, so that takes some getting used to.

Anyway, we are where we are, and soon things will change again.

Friday 24th January 2025

We made it to Friday again.

Well done team.

We woke to hear Storm Éowyn raging outside. It was the deepest low to hit the UK and Ireland, had gusts of up to 187 km/h in Ireland, but not here.

But we got gales and rain. On bin day!

So, once Jools left for yoga, I put the bins out and made sure they were up against the lamp post outside the house, so not to blow over in the wind, like many's already had.

Back indie for breakfast and a brew, then to work with three meetings and much updating of databases and spreadsheets.

By mid-morning, as forecasted, the winds dropped, the sky cleared and the sun came out.

As we had to catch an early afternoon train to London, so had taken the day off work, so got chores done, did a tip run and so on.

She got back at half eleven, I had one last meeting, then a pasty Jools brought back for lunch, then pack away before leaving at one for the station.

Camera batteries were charged, and memory cards cleared.

All ready.

We even got a parking space outside the station, so filled that, went inside to buy our tickets and then had half an hour to wait, so went to the buffet for coffee and chocolate.

The train, when it came was pretty empty, so we got seats with a table, and so watched through the large window as the countryside flashed by.

We dozed on the way up, so it seemed quick that we arrived at Stratford, where we detrained and got ready to cross down to Docklands.

The phone rang: it was the vet.

Scully has diabetes, and so needs treatment, but first an assessment on how serious the condition is.

Jools talks with them for ten minutes, with a stay planned, though not booked, so her urine can be tested for crystals.

We had 80 minutes, so I asked Jools if she wanted a drink: coffee or cider?

Coffee, no cider. So I take her to Tap East where I was considering the beers on taps, when I spotted the bottled beers in the cooler, and I cannot resist a Chimay Blue. So, we linger for twenty minutes as I supper the strong but delightful beer.

We walked through the glittering palace that is Westfield. Full of people and shiny things, though nothing really appealed to us. A monument to consumerism if leaves us cold.

Up the escalator, then over the wide footbridge to the regional station, where we went down to catch a Jubilee Line train to Canary Wharf.

We didn't squeeze on the train about to leave, instead getting a seat on the next train which would depart a mere three minutes later.

Not much to report on that trip, the train screeching once it went into tunnels beyond Canning Town, we got out at the deep Canary Wharf station, pausing to take a couple of shots.

We took the two flights of escalators up to the concourse, then stop to take obligatory shot of the entrance to street level where we were to meet friends.

We went to the square, and took seats looking back at the entrance to The Tube, and the buildings surrounding, towering over everything.

Our friends, Vicki and Justin, arrive, and after receiving a leaflet of the Winter Lights display we were ere to see, we make our way to the Elizabeth Lone station, taking in the sights on the way. Not that we were going anywhere on it, or yet as it turned out, just for the installations and architecture.

We walked though several foyers and atriums, across roads before coming to where the station was bult in a concrete box in a former dock. On top of it, a wooden arboretum bas built on top, with another mall with eateries and restaurants.

And leading to it is a tunnel-cum-bridge, all futuristic, and currently brightly painted as its housing an art installation.

We all took several shots on the way to the arboretum.

The open area was dotted with lit figures, like they'd OD'd on Ready Brek, looked good, but time was getting on.

So back down to the ground floor, and back to the bridge and back towards Canada Place and Canary Wharf.

Next stop was Wren Landing, where although there was an installation, it wasn't that photogenic, but the view over the dock was, all lights reflected in the still dark waters.

We turned back, and then right as we made our way to Westferry Circus, and two installations that could be seen there.

A one way system for pedestrians was in force, so we followed that, an dover the flyover crossing Westferry Road to the Promenade.

There we found a series of hoops that lit up and changed colour with the music playing. I should have taken a video but the world and his wife were going the same, so I took a few shots and moved out of the way.

In the centre of Westferry Circus was another installation, Error, swirling blue lights that look best on video.

So, dinner was calling. Justin had said they liked Zizzi, so to get there we had to walk past one more installation, a load of floating balls in Cabot Square. They change colours and the still night means the reflections are perfect.

We go back inside, and up three flights of escalators, get a table near the kitchen, not bad considering we hadn't booked.

I have Caprese (of course), then followed my slow roast pulled pork ragu, which was pretty good. We all ate well, and no one needed a dessert.

Time was getting on, so we decide to head home. We part from our friends and walk back to the Jubilee Line entrance, but as we approached the entrance, staff we pulling across steel mesh gates, and signs outside stated service was suspended.

Quickly, we headed back to the Elizabeth Line, past the coloured tunnel, then down several more sets of escalators to platform level, and manage to squeeze on a train heading west. As we had to change at Whitechapel before heading back to Stratford.

We reached Stratford, made our way to the DLR to catch a train to the International station. We were pooped.

We walked to the entrance to the High Speed platforms; we had just fifteen minutes to wait for a train direct to Dover.

On the platform, two Eurostars hammered by making a lot of noise and shifting a lot of air, before our train glided in. We get seats, and Jools closes her eyes and soon drifts off.

The train rushes to Dartford, under the river and into Kent, and then south to Ashford, Folkestone getting us back to Dover by quarter past nine.

We climb in the car, drive home where the feline welcoming committee stated they though the long delay for dinner, some four and a half hours, was unacceptable. But ate well when fresh bowls were presented to them.

Thursday 23rd January 2025

Another dull and grey day, this time with the promise of winds building in the evening to gale force after day. Kent was to be spared the worst, but up here on the cliffs it would still be lively.

But that is for Friday. Before then was Thursday, and a full day at work.

For reasons, this was Jools's last working day of the week, so she left early to ensure she got tasks done, but she now sees increasingly she is being side-lined by others in the office, and on Monday, her replacement starts.

So, in a way, the end of times.

I work from home, with the cats, and with the birds in the garden, them being so hungry I had to put two lots of seeds out.

But that's about as exciting as it got for Thursday.

I am really struggling for shots of the day, so saw that a new cultivar hellebore had flowered, so that'll do.

Word has now got round that I am leaving, and I am getting very positive feedback and folks saying its a loss to the company.

Which might be news to my old manager.

I highlight serious issues to my new manager and says it is up to management to decide on how to fix them. He asks, but what do you think, Ian.

Good question.

So, I offer suggestions and we talk of my leaving and that I am entitled to a trip to Denmark, work reason or not, to say goodbye to my colleagues.

That was a very nice thing to say.

I finish work, outside rain comes down, so I pack up and tidy up. Jools brought home battered sausage and chips. I made brews.

And at six she arrived, so we sat down with a plateful of crispy, golden fried food.

Unhealthy, but good.

Man Utd v Rangers on the wireless in the evening, with Utd scoring seconds are Rangers levelled to win 2-1.

Wednesday 22nd January 2025

The week without end reaches halfway. I say that because without my two close colleagues to talk to, it has been a little quiet, with no news to swap. Instead they both have driven to Poland from Denmark in Rune's new electric car. I believe they made it there, and they will try to get home on Friday.

Even still, it is quiet, but gives me time to get my jobs done. And done they are, or up to date. Even travel expenses have been fixed.

And on top of that, a Director sent me a mail saying what a great job I had done on the last audit, which gave me the chance to share the glory with Frank, then forward on the mail to my bosses to emphasise what they are losing.

It is a great feeling, I have to say, not only being up to day and being in control, but now being thanked on a regular basis for the jobs I have done. After the travails of last year with my crap manager, it feels like vindication for me.

That showed her. Or would have done if she hadn't been fired.

I have no desire really for people to lose their jobs, but between us there was a clash of personalities, and me being junior meant I would have lost.

So it goes. So it goes.

Upstairs, the amaryllis we received for Christmas 2023 has flowered again, and has put up a second flower spike too.

I take shots.

Otherwise it is yet another dull and grey day, cold but with light winds. Rain comes and fades away, getting heavier in the afternoon, so no walking for me yet again.

The day grows old, light fades and thoughts turn to food. I cook crispbakes in the oven, but make chips in the air fryer and make a huge pot of creamed spinach, making enough to make two portions to freeze.

We have a brew and the last of the mince pies, then I settle down to watch Norwich play at Dirty Leeds, and I had just sat down after kick off and Leeds score after 31 seconds.

It looked bleak.

Norwich did OK, but never really threatened, and Leeds score a second.

On the wireless I listen to Citeh throw away a two goal lead in Paris and lose 4-2. Oh well.

Tuesday 21st January 2025

Another grey and miserable day, once dawn arrived and the sun rose.

I was awake early to prepare for an 07:00 meeting, a meeting which was cancelled overnight.

I put out the bird seed and nuts, and was rewarded with dozens of birds in the garden, including at least four Goldfinches feeding on the Verbena seedheads in the beds rather from the sunflower hearts. But they stayed a good half hour.

Sparrows also fed on the Buddleia seedheads, while chaffinches fed off the ground and used the feeders with the sparrows, robins and starlings.

Pigeons, crows magpies fed on the peanuts I scattered, and all in all making a more interesting scene than my work inbox.

But I have to work.

But not for very much longer.

But I work on like the trooper I am. Not much more to report for the day. It didn't brighten up outside, the birds ate all the seed so I put a second lot out at about two, and by then I was up to day, and with a migraine coming, I went for a lay down with Cloe on the spare bed.

No dinner to cook, as we were both going to the sports centre at half six: me to the gym and Jools to the pool for splashing. So, once she had come home and we had a brew. We got changed and drove in thickening fog to Whitfield, splitting up once inside.

I did half an hour on the bike listening to Blancmange and trying not to catch the eye of others in the gym as we pushed ourselves to our limits.

Then once done, I go to the car to wait as fog enveloped the car park, the darkness total beyond the streetlights.

Jools came out, and we headed home for supper of pizza and me to watch the Liverpool game on Amazon.

So endeth another day at the coalface.

Big beast slays the media

Prince Harry, the Duke of Sussex, has had bad press for some time now.

He married a person of colour, and has refused to play the game with newspapers, media and with Royal correspondents. Instead choosing to set their own rules on cntact with the press, rather than the reported desire for privacy.

The relationship with his family: Brother, Grandmother, has been under intense scrutiny, with regular leaks from one palace or another. He was stipped of his ceremonial roles and that of a member of the Royal Family.

All the while, he has fought a battle with Murdoch's News Group News Organisation regarding alleged phone hacking.

Unlike most other claimants, he and Tom Watson, would not be badgered into accepting a settlement, insted, wanting their day in court.

It was a course with huge financial risks, as even if he were to win, he might be liable for huge costs, and it was this that NGN were using to defend itself.

Yesterday, the case was due to come to court, but there were delays amid romours of a settlement. The delays carried on into today, then at half ten, lawyers for NGN issued an appology to Prince Harry and Tom Watson, for the first time admitting that phone hacking took place at The Sun, not just The News of the World.

Itis that admission, worth more than any costs awared, that both wanted. They also got an out of court settlement too.

Faced with the possibility of costs too, it seemed NGN, and Rupert Murdoch blinked first.

Dossiers will be passed to the Police and the possibility of perjury for Murdock and Rebekah Brooks may or mabe not forthcoming. For Brooks claimed she ran a "clean ship" at her trial in 2014, something we now know is untrue. Over 30,000 hacks took place for stories. And also lied, under oath, tho the Levisson Inquiry.

I helped crowdfund a book, Beyond Belief, on NGN, Murdoch and Brooks, which I can say was well worth the money.

Statement from the Duke of Sussex to close.

“In a monumental victory today, News UK have admitted that The Sun, the flagship title for Rupert Murdoch’s UK media empire, has indeed engaged in illegal practices.

“ This represents a vindication for the hundreds of other claimants who were strong-armed into settling, without being able to get to the truth of what was done to them.

“After endless resistance, denials and legal battles by News Group Newspapers, including spending more than a billion pounds in payouts and in legal costs (as well as paying-off those in the know) to prevent the full picture from coming out, News UK is finally held to account for its illegal actions and its blatant disregard for the law. It has also specifically admitted wrongdoing against Tom Watson, and admitted unlawful acts by The Sun, as well as by the News of the World, against Prince Harry.

“The truth that has now been exposed is that NGN unlawfully engaged more than 100 private investigators over at least 16 years on more than 35,000 occasions. This happened as much at The Sun as it did at the News of the World, with the knowledge of all the Editors and executives, going to the very top of the company.

“What’s even worse is that in the wake of the 2006 arrest of a Royal correspondent, there was an extensive conspiracy to cover up what really had been going on and who knew about it. Senior executives deliberately obstructed justice by deleting over 30 million emails, destroying back-up tapes, and making false denials – all in the face of an on-going police investigation. They then repeatedly lied under oath to cover their tracks – both in Court and at the Leveson Public Inquiry.

“At her trial, in 2014 Rebekah Brooks, said “when I was Editor of The Sun we ran a clean ship”. Now, 10 years later when she is CEO of the company, they now admit, when she was Editor of The Sun, they ran a criminal enterprise.

“Far from being relics of a distant past, many of those behind these unlawful practices remain firmly entrenched in senior positions today, both within News UK and other media outlets across the world, wielding editorial power and perpetuating the toxic culture in which they continue to thrive. It’s perhaps no surprise that all of their senior executives and editors refused to turn up to court to give evidence. The failure of each of these key individuals to come and answer questions under oath spoke volumes in itself, but their collective silence is deafening.

“Today’s result has been achieved only through the sheer resilience of Prince Harry and Lord Watson, whose willingness to take NGN to trial has led directly to this historic admission of unlawfulness at The Sun. It has only been by taking NGN - not just to the steps of court but inside the court room itself - that these Claimants have finally managed to extract this historic admission of guilt.

“As a direct result of him taking a stand, Prince Harry and his immediate family have also had to repeatedly withstand aggressive and vengeful coverage since starting his claim over five years ago. This has created serious concerns for the security of him and his family.

“The rule of law must now run its full course. Prince Harry & Tom Watson join others in calling for the police and Parliament to investigate not only the unlawful activity now finally admitted, but the perjury and cover ups along the way. Its clear now this has occurred throughout this process, including through sworn evidence in inquiries and court hearings, and in testimony to Parliament, until today’s final collapse of NGN’s defence.

“Today the lies are laid bare. Today, the cover-ups are exposed. And today proves that no one stands above the law. The time for accountability has arrived.”

Monday 19th January 2025

I have been online for a quarter of a century now. Off and on. Mostly for good, but seen some bad.

Back in 1999/2000 I joined an electronic penpal site, and I made two friends, Dawn and Penelope.

I wrote to both, not every day, not every week, no every month, certainly not in the last few years, but these are friends in every sense of the word.

I followed their lives, and they followed mine, relationships failed, new ones started, and we hoped that each of us would live happily ever after.

Pen fell ill last year, had times in hospital, came out, she posted memes as usual. Then she stopped. A message over Christmas was that her mobility issues might now be permanent.

And then, I woke up this morning to a message from her brother on her account that Pen had passed yesterday.

The internet game me friendships, and a marriage, that lasted quarter of a century, friendships that were every bit as real as with hose I wok with or went to school with.

Not sure what I am saying here, but I learnt from them that avatars and screen names sometimes have real people, with real lives.

I never met Pen, but I will miss my friend.

I think those mails to potential penpals is how the blogging started, certainly when I moved to Matchdoctor, there was a blogging function, though USA-centric, I started to write, but the negative comments outweighed the positives, so moved on here in time, and really never looked back.

Although I write for myself, it still blows me away when I am told the folks read these posts.

Anyway.

Monday.

Back to work, and my two colleagues are on the road to Poland so I won't have many folks to talk to, but there is work, of course.

There is the pain that is travel expenses. Even though I have the receipts and all, once submitted the systems shows errors and I have no idea what to do.

The computer says no.

Outside it is cold and grey again, just above freezing, but not too inviting to go for a walk, even if I wrap up.

Lunch is warmed up cottage pie. I say warmed up, I fry it up to the meat and potato go crispy, then eat it watching something on YouTube.

But otherwise the gay grinds on, and the day fades and goes dark. And all through it, the cats slept on.

Until it was four: meow?

So, the cats we fed, and I clear the living room up, put away the washing up and get ready to cook dinner.

Dinner was curry. Oddly, the first one I have made. I have had a recipe book for a decade, but never used. And when I looked at it yesterday I found the recipes hard to follow and also full of ingredients I have no chance of ever getting let alone have in the house.

But the internet is full of recipes, and I found a fine chicken jalfrezi recipe, which I rustle up.

It soon smelled like a curry house in here.

I boiled some rice, and once cooked and dished up, turned out it was pretty good. So good we both had seconds.

And then there was yet more footy on the tellybox, Chelsea v Wolves. Ended up 4-1 to Chelsea, but good enough entertainment.

Sunday 19th January 2025

Sunday.

Every day is like Sunday.

Every day is cloudy and grey.

And so it was, that on the seventh day, the clouds were indeed low and grey and the temperature barely climbed above freezing.

I lay in to quarter to eight: nearly dinner time, and when I went downstairs, found the house empty as Jools had gone swimming.

I made a coffee and prepared Jools's so when she came home she'd not have to wait long.

We listened to the radio until eleven, then went out to visit Jen, but she was out. So we checked out the new burger place out on London Road then came back home.

Jools cooked some stuff for her lunches this week, and after we had backed cheese with warmed though bread left over from our trip back from Italy. Defrosted and warmed in the oven it was fine.

Dipped in runny cheese and washed down with wine.

Then there was football: where the Prem is upside down. Spurs lost 3-2 at Everton, although Spurs were worse than the scoreline suggests.

At the same time Man Utd lost 3-1 at home to pluck Bournemouth, and again the score could have been worse at the Stadium of Revised Expectations.

And then Citeh played at Ipswich, and were like a tiger playing with a baby gazelle, running in six goals in just over an hour before substitutions killed the momentum.

I made mince pies for supper, while it got dark outside. The weekend was over once again.

Saturday 18th January 2025

And so to the weekend, and another one for which we had plans, and then abandoned.

Why?

Well, the weather was grey, misty and yuk, and so travel on motorways wasn't probably the best idea.

Idea one was to go to Orpington to ride on the electric buses which are now running from there, just to ride on them. The other idea was to visit the one major church in east Kent I seem to have missed: Great Chart near Ashford.

So before i went to Tesco I told Jools not to worry about being ready to go out at nine, but to relax.

Tesco was empty really. A few hardy souls at quarter past seven. Meaning I could whiz up and down and get all what we wanted, then to the scanner to pay and back out, all by eight.

Not that there was a rush.

I had stopped to take a shot of the self-storage warehouse on the estate, it will do as the shot of the day. Will have to as it was the only shot.

We had breakfast, washed up. Did chores, vacuuming, and the like, then had showers so all to be nice and clean.

Which meant that at half twelve I could join Scully on the sofa for an afternoon of football.

Jools went to Mike's to drop off George's birthday card, picked up some other stuff at M&S, then came back for brews.

Norwich were playing Sheffield Utd, the league leaders, and did OK for twenty minutes, then folded. 2-0. Could have been five and we had one shot on goal.

Next was Arsenal v Villa, during which I swapped messages with a friend in the US who was also watching the game. He is also an Arsenal fan for some reason.

The Arse went 2-0 up that seemed that. But I played the hex card and messaged Mark: "Nothing can go wrong now", which everyone knows is an affront to the football Gods, and so it was that Villa scored two quick goals to draw level, then both sides missed a couple of chances each. But ended 2-2.

So it goes. So it goes.

Friday 17th January 2025

I am not suffering from photographers block, or lost my mojo. It's just that weekends so far have been dull and grey, or too cold and windy to do much outside.

And the other truth is that we have 50 days left at work: ten in January, nineteen in February and twenty in March.

And that's it.

So, will be going from having only weekends really for my obsession, I will have every day.

Every day will be a weekend.

Even walking in the neighbourhood, I am only walking on the pavements, so up and down the four streets on our small estate, as the lanes and tracks are deep with mud after the autumn downpours, so I go out with the phone, taking a couple of shots and listening to podcasts.

But soon enough, normal service will resume: orchids, flowers, butterflies, churches and trains.

Friday was another short grey day, sies hidden by low dark clouds, with the threat of mist in the air. And as the company ends the financial year, I am suddenly in demand, meaning I am in meetings four to five hours a day, dealing with issues that others have ignored for months.

Its my job.

But not for much longer.

I had put the bins out, and really worked non-stop except to make brews and breakfast through to half one.

The afternoon was a three hour build up to Operation cat round-up, with all four of them needed at the vets.

Scully, we thought had lost weight, quite a bit, and has been drinking lots more, or that could be as she's inside most of the time. Anyway, she needed checking out.

Mulder is over-washing again, and his rear half is semi-bald. Its obsessive behaviour, might be caused by stress, but there's nothing really for him to be stressed about.

And Cleo and Poppy needed their annual jabs so we could put them in cat prison if we go away

At four we began, and as soon as the sound of cat boxes being prepared were heard, cats scattered to all four corners.

I caught Scully quite easily, and Mulder gave himself up quite easily too. That left the kittens, though no longer kittens.

Jools caught Cleo, and then between us, we corralled Poppy into the bathroom where there is no hiding places.

Job done.

Waiting in the vets is always stressful for cats, even with a cat only waiting area. Two boisterous cockerpoos were whining and barking, causing increased stress levels.

Or were they labradoodles? Mongrels by another name.

We were called forward.

Scully has lost a kilo, two pounds. But is otherwise in good health, well hydrated. A sample of blood is taken, which seemed to be dark, but we will know the results on Monday.

Mulder has fur regrowing, and seemed to be an allergic reaction, but is getting better.

The terrible twins had their jabs, with no issues.

Cats were put back in their boxes, and Jools went to pay. Just under £600.

Wow.

But we had to get Mulder and Scully checked out, and has calmed our fears, results of the blood test notwithstanding.

We drove home and were just in time for the quiz, though I jumped in early and got it wrong.

We had cottage pie and Boston beans, both defrosted from the freezer and warmed through.

Lovely and filling, doubly so on a cold winter's day.

And that meant the weekend could not begin.

Thursday 16th January 2025

It is Thursday.

And sunny.

Hardly any wind.

And nearly warm outside.

A shame, then, that I am going to spend nearly ten hours over a hot keyboard dealing with issues, updating reports as departments are preparing for their end of financial year reports, and find they have overdue work from me to clear.

Suddenly I am fielding one call after another, for most of the day. Can I just do this, or that, or overlook something else.

And so on.

It was cool at dawn when I put the bird food out, sparrows were waiting in the hedge, angry I was taking so much time.

And then back in the warm for breakfast and another brew, waiting for my cuppa to brew, watching the birds come to feed for the feast I had put out.

And then back to work.

Stopping only for the last of the lentil dahl for lunch, I work though to half four, by which time the sun had nearly set so was getting dark and cool again.

But for a while it had looked and felt like Spring.

No dinner to prepare, as we were going out for dinner, only have a brew ready for for when Jools came home. And leaving us just enough time to get changed before we had to leave to pick up Jen, then back to Swingate to the old pub.

We were welcomed back like long-lost friends. We had came here when it changed hands and the new guy in the following two ears has tried to make a go of it. But truth is, since COVID, even before he took over, it hasn't been so full. Where once you had to book a table a week in advance, you can now just pitch up.

I booked, and joined the four other tables eating, only one more couple arrived after us, meaning they served just six tables. And are making ends meet my doing take aways.

Everything changes.

We order drinks. Papadums. A small starter each, and then finally the main courses, rice and a naan.

So, we order before the meal, so order too much, and at the end are stuffed. But it was good, as was the wine Jen and I shared.

We paid, with Jools driving we dropped Jen off, then came back to St Maggies past the curry house and then to home, where the cats were hungry.

Apparently.

Ipswich were losing to Brighton, and Man Utd came from behind in the last ten minutes to beat bottom club Southampton 3-1. But hardly the crashing win the scoreline suggests.

Wednesday 15th January 2025

Halfway though the month, the month that goes on and on forever.

It was misty, so grey and dull, but with no wind, so the weather we had at dawn we would have until evening, unless the sun burnt off some of the cloud.

Just the usual stuff to report: coffee, work, breakfast, work, lunch, tea, work.

This is the routine, day after day, but not for much longer, as I approach just 50 working days left to do.

For Tuesday's dinner, I had some leftover potatoes, so I made some mash, and had that fried after moulding it into small cakes. Fried in olive il rather than butter.

The mash already had butter in it, of course.

The sun did indeed break through, so at the end of the afternoon, I had a letter to post, to put on my shoes and coat, and walked up Station Road, dropping the letter off at the post box, then walking on up the top of the down. Taking in the view and golden light, then walking back down.

I have been suffering with sciatica for about ten weeks now, and Wednesday was one of my best almost pain-free days. I am not a martyr with it, its something that's there, not bad enough to stop me walking about the house, but sometimes bad enough to stop me walking longer distances.

I hope that this easing is something permanent rather than just a moment of clarity, as it was rather nice to stride up the down instead of stopping every ten paces to do a Frankie Howerd impression.

And as Jools had booked an Aquafit session, would I be going to the gym, she asked.

Truth is readers, I would rather not. But I know I have to, so I said yes. So that once Jools was back, coffee drunk, we changed and I drove us to Whitfield and while she went to the pool, I went upstairs on the recumbent bike and did 30 minutes whilst listening to Aswad, The B52s and Blancmange.

Time went quick, I finished, cleaned the machine and went to wait in the car, listening to the build up of the North London Derby, driving us back home when Jools came out.

Before finally putting the pizza in the oven and pouring a pint to go with it.

Arse won 2-1, Spurs were quite Spursey.

Tuesday 14th January 2025

Morning.

For some reason my brain wanted me awake at half five, so as I was awake, may as well get up.

I look out back, and the waning light of the full moonlit the back gardens, but with long shadows stretching from hedge to hedge on either side of each garden.

As sunrise approached, dawn got ever more spectacular, so I left a meeting to go and take shots.

As you do.

Other than that, a typical Tuesday.

Meetings. Calls. E mails. Brews. Breakfast. Lunch.

Meanwhile cats sleep on.

I watch a video from the self-proclaimed "Potato Queen", and think I could give noisette potatoes a go for dinner, along with defrosted Jambalaya.

This involved using a melon-baller to carve spheres of raw potato, then part boil before finishing off in butter allowing the buttermilk to burn.

Not perfect, but good enough.

And as a bottle of XV had arrived, and was the first of the 2023 vintage, I thought it best to test it to make sure it was up to standard.

Good news: it is.

There is football for the evening, but then there seems to always be football: Forest hold Liverpool to a 1-1 draw at the top of the table.

I finish the wine and eat crackers sans fromage.