Saturday 28th June 2025

It is the weekend.

Apparently.

Though, in truth, we're less likely to go out weekends that weekdays due to people.

Saying that, I signed up for a digital newsletter from Dover District Council about stuff that is on we might like to attend, and this week is was Deal and Walmer Classic car Show on Walmer Strand.

We should have been up and about early, heading into Walmer by nine, so to see the cars with less folks and when it was cooler.

But I laid in.

Needed a shower.

So it was half ten when we did leave the house.

Rather than try to find a spot in town or along The Strand, I thought the small car park opposite The Berry would be idea, and we could call in for a pint before we left.

Traffic didn't look too heavy, but we got stuck on the Deal Road as a taxi had a flat right on the sharp bend. But we got through, then into Walmer and down Cambridge Road to find there was just one space left.

Which is all we needed.

We park, I grab the camera and walk up to The Strand, to find they had set the car show up right opposite, so no long walk down to near Deal castle as expected.

It was hot.

Damn hot.

But lots of cars to see and admire, and room enough to get shots.

Best of all, I think, was an RS Mexico, looking like new, and on sale which could be yours for £30,000.

We passed.

But Rovers, Minis, Aston Martins, Rollers, Jaguars and much else beside.

We wandered for an hour, which I think was about right, before we walked back along Cambridge Road, where we arrived at the Berry at opening time.

The barmaid couldn't find a place to park, so we waited while she tottered around in heels and skin tight leather jeans, but we soon were nursing a fresh pint of IPA or a rhubarb cider.

Too hot to sit outside, so we sat in the bar and ate scampi fries to go with our drinks.

Cheers.

After draining our glasses, we return to the car, and I drive us home, avoiding The Strand, cruising home along the Deal road, under the canopy of summer foliage of Oxney Wood, which cast dappled shadows on the road.

Back home we have Caprese with home made garlic bread. Or stale bread seasoned with home made garlic butter. I slice the loaf, 90% through, insert the butter and back for twenty minutes.

Caprese, garlic bread and a bottle of a decent red wine.

Lovely.

As normal, the rest of the afternoon was spent trying to stay awake with no live football to entertain my brain.

At five, the ice cream van came round, so I go out to wait on the street to buy two 99s, which we eat on the patio, wolfing it down before the soft ice cream melted and coated our hands and chins.

For the evening there was the U21 European Championship Final between England and Germany.

England played well, and were 2-0 up just before half time, and in control. But, Germany pulled on back in the closing seconds. Then, in the second half, Germany levelled and were in control.

2-2 at full time, and in the opening minutes of extra time, England scored through former Norwich player, Jonathan Rowe, scrambled what turned out to be the winner.

England hung on. Germany hit the bar in the final seconds, but failed to score.

England: champions again.

Friday 27th June 2025

For the last few years, the UK's Offshore HSE Manager (Pete) and myself, got together three or four times a year for what we used to put in our work Outlook calendars as UK QHSE meetings.

These would take place either around Broadstairs where Pete lives, or around Dover or Deal, near to where I live. But more recently in Canterbury as its easier to get there for us both.

And this week was the first time we had met since our retirement, and the location was the usual: The Thomas Becket, at half three.

This gave us nine hours to get our chores done.

The gym is being renovated. Lots more new equipment being installed, so Monday was the last day of the old gym, and the new one ones in about three weeks.

Between then, some machines had been installed in the former dance studio. We got there early hoping to beat the crowds, but the machines I would use were already full, and only one of each.

I said I would wait for Jools, but she said she would bail to. So, instead of phys, we did hunting and gathering at Tesco nearby.

Back home for breakfast, then Jools walked to the library for her craft two hours, while I stayed here, washed up, mowed some more and raked up the clippings before watering the other half of the garden.

With my mobile and earphones, I was able to do all this while listening to a new podcast, and drown out Mulder and Scully's meows and demands for an early lunch.

We have lunch, and then fritter the afternoon away until quarter to three, when its time to drive to the city.

Traffic was quite light, and even with a diversion the other side of Canterbury West Station, we made it to the pub by half three. Pete was held up a bit, but arrived twenty minutes later, so the drinking and catching up could start.

Oddly, for a hot Friday afternoon, at times we were the only people in the pub, so talked and drank.

Talk was of holidays, plans for the future, and how the company is doing.

We eat in the pub: dirty burgers, fries and onion rings. And another beer.

But time was getting on. Scully was at home needing feeding and jabbing, so we bid Pete farewell and walk back to the car. Jools then drove us home so we could do our chores; feed the cats, jab Scully and make a brew.

Thursday 26th June 2025

The clouds and cool winds returned.

It was near downright chilly, if not cold.

But we had little planned.

So that was alright.

I slept to nearly seven again, so was more than ready for the first coffee of the day.

All we had planned was to go to the kitchen showroom, as like all retirees, we want to spruce the house up, and the kitchen is in most need.

We moved into the house back in 2009, and it had been decorated by the wife of the couple who lived here before they divorced, and what she did is really very nice indeed.

Since being here, we got a carpet for the front bedroom (on the day we moved in), and about a decade or so ago, we did the bathroom, very much on the cheap. Looked nice for a while, but that is on the list too.

What we did have to do was have all the render stripped off the outside of the house, missing mortar replaced, then the render replaced with proper waterproof stuff, so to fix the multiple leaks we had been suffering.

And last year the back room, hallway and small bedroom were decorated and re-carpeted.

So, we haven't been idle, but more needs to be done.

Worst of all in the kitchen is the wooden work surfaces which stain easily, and improved storage making things easier to find is needed.

Going to the showroom meant going past the old Box Factory where Jools worked for 32 years, and I worked there too, for about six months.

Its a smaller concern now, with much production having been moved into the EU, but a rump production remains.

It seemed odd to be going past, from the road you can see the canteen, and a few figures moved around, but not as busy as back in the day.

Round the corner is the showroom. We go in, make an appointment for someone to come to measure up the kitchen and utility room. gaze at the shiny units on display.

We have ideas.

And back home.

Going up through the estate and down Shooter's Hill, over the railway to Buckland Bridge. Its a short, but very steep street, with a sharp stop line where it joins London Road.

And that is it for the day, really.

Back home for pork pie and salad for lunch.

The final slices of tart were served with coffee mid-afternoon.

I got the mower out again to cut some paths for access to the top and bottom beds.

I pruned the climbing rose, the watered the plants in the lower half of the garden.



All this with Mulder and Scully following my every move in case I might stop at any moment to feed them dinner.

In the evening, I battled the evil that was the UEFA website to access the live feed of the U19 men's final. It took until the 60 minute point of the game to get it to play live video, just in time to see the only goal of the game, as Germany gifted Netherlands an own goal.

Wednesday 25th June 2025

The sun and gentle breezes returned.

Jools had yoga and then a dental appointment, followed by chiropractor appointment later in Canterbury, after dropping her in town at eight, I was free to do what I wanted.

With the main orchid season now coming to a quick end due to the still hot and dry conditions, why not go back up the downs one last time?

Why not indeed.

With Chaplins still closed, I thought breakfast at the greasy spoon on Stone Street would be the next best thing.

A greasy spoon is a food wagon or hut, beside the road offering quite unhealthy, but filling food.

I drove up the A20 to Folkestone, then to Hythe on the motorway before heading up Stone Street, pulling over at the lay by with the wagon.

I ordered jumbo sausage and bacon French stick and a tea, and once cooked sat on the plastic seats to eat and drink, whilst watching the working people go about their chores.

That eaten, I try to get to Hastingleigh, made difficult by multiple road closures for resurfacing.

I make it to the tiny lay by, park, and grabbing my camera and walking pole, climb the stile and clamber through the wood, whilst the ground steeply rose beneath my feet.

The crosswort had gone to seed and was turning brown, but Scabious was everywhere, that and Lady's bedstraw too.

I climbed up and up, my eye caught by a Marbled White hanging from a stem of grass.

She had just emerged from her chrysalis, and was drying her wings having pumped them full of blood.

I got down and got as close to a butterfly as I ever have.

Further up the down, the sward was covered with a carpet of Common centaury, Yellow wort, small-sized Pyramidals, all being buzzed by more Marbled Whites, Meadow Browns among others.

But I only had eyes for the tell tale pink sepals of the Late Spiders. And the end of June is as late as it can get to see Late Spiders, especially after the long dry Spring we had. But hope springs that the rain twelve days ago on the 13th could have triggered new spikes to flower.

I think I saw over 60 spikes, then in two square metres alone, and some of impressive size with eleven flowers, though the lower eight had burned off.

I snapped loads. I won't lie, but then this is the last trip up the downs this year, at least to see this Ophrys species.

90 minutes later, I was done. Hot and bothered.

I didn't need to go to another site, but in the end I did anyway.

I drove back to Stone Street, along a road that coming the other way had road closed signs, but this way didn't.

Readers, I saw no roadworks on that road.

Then along Stone Street before turning off, and a mile further on, parking.

It was now one. The clouds and mist of earlier had cleared, and so was hot, with little in the way of breeze to cool the walker or orchidist.

Its a long haul up the track, climbing all the while, not steep, but steep enough.

On the far side, I began to search the lower slopes, and was rewarded with about ten spikes, including a probable LSO x Bee hybrid, making the trek worthwhile.

A few other spikes were recorded, while overheard a buzzard called to its mate.

I sat down to admire te view, now hazy, but the ground falling away to the coast, just out of sight. I could sit here all day and just take in the sights and sounds of nature.

But I was thirsty.

And there was the possibility of picking up Jools from Canterbury.

I walked back to the car, easier going downhill, turned round, drove back to Stone Street, then up to Lower Hardres for a drink or two at the Granville.

Reception had been impossible on the downs, but from the beer garden with a pint of Coke and a pint of Czech Pilsner, I called Jools to find she was ready.

I downed the Coke, tried with the beer, and got half of it down, before leaving for the car and the short drive to Bridge before taking the road into Canterbury.

And there was Jools walking beside the road, so I went to the park and ride roundabout, doubled back and stopped so she could get in.

Back home then for a relaxing rest of the afternoon and evening.

Back home too for tart and coffee, then to review my shots of the orchids.

Shall we have salad or fish and cips?

Salad.

But now you said fish and chips, I want fish and chips.

So, I went to get the golden fried food just after four when the chippy had just opened. With Dover gridlocked, I went to Walmer, found a parking space.

Crossed the road, into the shop where there was queue.

Large cod. Two jumbo sausages. Large chips. Breaded roll.

A huge order for two people, but we hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Once cooked I rushed home so the batter would still be crispy, which it was.

Along with fresh brews we ate well, but neither could clear our plate. Mulder had the leftover fish, for which he was happy.

We ate early so we could be all done before the England U21s lined up against the Netherlands. Having already dispatched the favourites, Spain, in the last round, England outplayed the new favourites to win 2-1, and to set up the final against Germany who beat France 3-0 in the evening.

An altogether splendid day, ended with a wee dram of fine Irish red Spot whiskey.

On Parade

I know I have written about when I joined the RAF and what it was like, but beyond that first year, came fourteen more where I was posted to Marham in Norfolk, then to RAF Laarbruch in Germany before returning to England at RAF Lyneham, then a fitters course before five last years back in Norfolk at RAF Coltishall.

Which is now a prison.

For many, life in the military is all they have know, but I didn't join until I was twenty five, did fifteen years, then left to work in the deep sea survey industry before ending up in Offshore Wind.

So, the military wasn't the be all and end all.

Last Novemeber, we were at Jen's watching the Remembrance Parade, and looking out for my friends and colleagues from our RAF Association march past. It was good to see them and pick out a few familiar faces.

Of course, Jen and John have only known me for the last 18 years, my military days long gone, so when the appeal came for volunteers earlier this month for folks to make up numbers, I decided that maybe I should.

I have filled in the forms, and so I will be marching down Whithall past The King et all on November 9th.

I might even be on the telly.

Be in no dount, I am proud to have served, and loved what I did.

More news as we get it.

Tuesday 24th June 2025

We have been married for some seventeen years, or will be in a month or two. And in that time we have not bought much for the house. However, our plates and bowls for everyday use are getting fewer: we have two bowls and three side plates, and the dinner plates were cracking. So, we should buy some new ones!

We looked online, but really wanted to feel them in our hands, so we would go to Dunhelm in Canterbury first, then to a place in Ashford second.

After coffee.

After breakfast.

After second coffee.

It was cool and breezy enough to put a jumper on. I don't, but Jools did, so sometime after ten, we set off among the crazies driving.

We did arrive in Wincheap safe and sound, we turned into the car park, walked into the store, over to the dining section, and pretty much bought the first set we saw: white with gold trim. Looks fancy.

We paid.

It had taken less than ten minutes.

It wasn't yet eleven.

So back in the car to drive back to Dover, but on the way do some light orchiding.

We park beside the road, and looking up the steep bank I could see spikes of pink and purple.

Here we go.

We climbed over the fence, then struggled to stay upright as I checked spike after spike.

Of course, going up is tricky, but getting back down again, especially stepping on bare chalk gravel, not knowing if your footing will hold or not.

I found no hybrids, but was some phys for the day. So, we got down the bank, climbed back over the fence, then drove home for an early lunch of Greek-style souvlaki pork, spicy rice and salad.

It were good.

But it wasn't yet midday, and we had been out, had lunch. And the afternoon stretched up before us.

Jools did crochet. I wrote, listened to music, and come three, made coffee and cut another two slices of the tart.

Tart!

Jools went to the cinema with Jen. I listened to the last half hour of Test Match Special as England made 371 with 5 wickets and 15 overs to spare.

Yay.

I had oatcakes for supper, but no wine or beer.

Monday 22nd June 2025

Hey, it's Monday again.

And no work.

But it is a gym day.

Thing is, with the walking we've been doing recently, I feel we've been doing enough phys.

So I try to weasel my way out, but Jools is right, we should go and do a session. Anyway, the gym is partially closing for two weeks as they're getting all new equipment, so we might not be able to do much until it fully reopens.

An breezy if still sunny day, so Jools plants in the garden and I make our favourite dessert: Limoncello and Grappa tart.

So, after the gym we go to Tesco, do four days hunting and gathering, then back home for breakfast, and I then get busy.

I change the order the recipe says, and instead of beating the mix, I use the normal blade. This produces a much smoother batter, and easier to clean to boot.

It cooks in the right time, rather than having to add 50% more time before the mix sets.

And the house is full of the smells of the tart cooking, and the boozy ingredients.

It would take all afternoon to cool, which was fine, as Monday is the new Friday as far as cards is concerned, so we go over to Whitfield and are soon seated with fresh brews, and gambling for pennies.

I win Meld, Jen wins Queenie, and John grumbles about us taking is money. He's only half joking.

Back home for supper of cheese and crackers and wine, followed by coffee and tart.

And the tart was a triumph, the best ever. Tart!

Sunday 22nd June 2025

After driving for over seven hours and the climbing and hunting, on Sunday I was a little bit tired.

I did, however, lay in to ten to eight, with apparently nearly half the day gone.

Did I have plans for the day?

No, I have no plans.

We have coffee, then breakfast of leftover fruit and the such with another brew.

And in a surprise move, I helped Jools cut the hedge, and even put the clippings away, swept up and took the tools and broom back to the shed afterwards.

It was a fine, if windy day, but the hedge at the front is nice and boxy, and the hedge beside the bench is now under control, so is suitable for two people again without one having to do a Homer Simpson impression.

I wrote through the afternoon, we listened to music on the wireless, while the day faded.

Of course, there was a little less daylight, but we didn't notice it.

Supper was cheese, crackers and wine. All three cheeses were very good indeed, soft and strong.

Three of the major food groups, eaten between the two U21 quarter finals, with France waking up to beat Denmark, then Germany beating an Italian team that lost its head.

Saturday 21st June 2025

Four years ago I was down in Gloucestershire, when my guide mentioned that the Large Blue butterflies would be soon on the wing, pointing at anthills down the steep slope of the down.

I'll have to come back and see those, I said. Not realising it would be four years.

It was a promise I made to Fran, a butterfly expert that one day I would take her to see the Large Blues.

This weekend was that time.

Not sure why it was this weekend, but the Blues had been seen, not in great numbers, but enough.

I mean, one's enough, really.

Apt words.

And there were reports of a new site for the very rare Red Helleborine orchid. Most years, a single spike, sometimes two, is all that flowers in all of the UK, at a site in Buckinghamshire. But this was big, though top secret news.

As temperatures were supposed to top thirty degrees, we knew we had to get there early. A cock up in my calculations meant that instead of arriving in Gloucestershire at half nine, it was half eight.

It meant getting up at quarter to four, getting ready, then leaving at quarter past to get to Fran's for twenty past five.

It was the summer solstice, Fran had gone down the beach to watch the sunrise, while we saw it as we drove through the Sandwich marshes on the bypass.

At least traffic was light, so we arrived just after five, and ten minutes later with the car loaded, we set off along Thanet Way.

The sun was rising in a clear blue sky, but it was cool. Well, fifteen degrees.

We turned down the A249, also empty, so we could join the M20 at Maidstone before driving towards London and then along the M26 to the road to hell, M25.

There was traffic, but no jams. So we made good time, around the southern suburbs, past Heathrow and up the motorway to Oxford.

Made such good time we stopped off at High Wycombe for a break and to get a coffee.

Back on the road for the last hour or so, and the sat nav took is round the Oxford suburbs, which was OK before eight in the morning, then along the long straight road towards Cheltenham and butterfly county.

We parked at a small layby, trees overhanging the car, making it almost dark.

Directions I had been given took us over a stile and into the woods, and up. And across.

Were the directions wrong? It seemed a bit of a wild goose chase, along a well used track.

Then, a caged enclosure, which was the last thing you would expect in remote Cotswold woodland. But sure enough, inside were three flowering spikes, all near to the fence. Light fell through the canopy, and illuminated the plants.

I took maybe a hundred shots, just as well, as one series showed clear pollination visit by a Marmalade hoverfly. And my pictures had it clear, even if I didn't see it at the time!

Hapy with our shots, we walked back down, passing nobody except a singe dogwalker, with whom we passed the time of day.

Research had shown we might have the best luck at the Daneway Reserve, so we made our way there, over downs and then down and up deep valleys with picturesque villages built of creamy Cotswold stone.

Lanes through ancient woodlands, the road sunk into a cutting, and massive beech trees towered overhead. Then once on hight ground, the vista opened out to show a fine and rolling countryside.

Its good visitors know little of this area, or they'd never leave.

We grabbed the only parking space at the reserve, we grab camera and me a walking pole too, and set off to search high and low for the Large Blue.

By the now weather was cloudy, and we had driven through two unexpected showers, and rain was in the air the three hours we were at the reserve.

Even walking on the flat was hot and taxing, we moved deeper into the reserve, and the path climbed upwards, until we came to a hollow which had less vegetation.

It felt right.

So, while Jools and Fran went on, I stayed, found a place to sit and wait.

Half an hour or more went past, and I went to explore, which is when I saw what I assumed had to have been a toffee wrapper in the short grass, because no butterfly could be that obvious to see from 10m.

I went closer, and it was a male Large Blue, sunning himself in the weak sunshine. Were it sunny as expected, he would be on the wing, but here he was.

I took shots as I moved closer, then he was gone, I lost sight as the blue flash flittered behind some tall grass.

I tried to call Jools and sent a message. They did not get it.

And hour later, with me waiting, they came back, and we searched some more. An elderly couple came to speak, I told them where I had seen the male, promising to call them if we refound him.

It was, however, them who refound the male, basking in the long grass nearby.

We took turns in getting more shots, easy when he stayed in the same place for ten minutes or more.

But he flew off in the end, and we let him go.

We ambled back to the car, it was now gone noon, and thoughts turned to lunch and a drink. The pub at the bottom of the hill was full with cars, so the next alternative seemed to be the Green Dragon in Cockleford.

Situated in the valley of a small river, the pub is picture box perfect, with attached shop and deli. We have drinks and a sandwich, and afterwards Jools buys a selection of cheeses from the shop.

All that was left was to go home.

The sat nav took us to Birdlip, then along the high road to Swindon, and once there we joined the M4 to head west.

Traffic was thick, but moved freely. We took a diversion to miss the worse of the jams on the M25, but found some at the A3 junction anyway.

A quick stop at Cobham for relief. I went to M&S to buy something for dinner, and when we rejoined the motorway, it was moving freely, and was until we reached Kent and turned back along the M26 towards Dover and home.

We dropped Fran home, then drove back to Thanet Way, down to Sandwich, where the poor thirsty car was refuelled, and to home, getting back at half six.

So we fed the cats.

I skinned the sausages, browned the meat, added sauce and simmered for twenty minutes, cooked the pasta, and baked the garlic bread.

Not home made, but good enough after a long day. We ate well and drank wine or cider.

The day ended with England knocking favourites Spain out of the U21 Euros.

I celebrated with another beer.

Cheers, and good night.

Friday 20th June 2025

Friday.

Nearly the weekend.

But then every day is the weekend.

Jools did not go to yoga due to her hurty leg, but was going to go to the craft morning at the local library.

After putting the bins out, we had breakfast and chilled out.

I dropped Jools off in the village on my way to Sandwich.

As the orchids were calling.

Again.

A lazy morning drive along the Eastry bypass, into Sandwich and out to the Bay, avoiding the amateur golfers at the open.

The observatory car park was pretty full, but I found a spot and walked over the road, camera in hand, heading to the slacks for some Marsh helleborine action.

The flowering of the helleborines mark the beginning of the end of the orchid season. Three more species to come after this, but, you now, nearing the end.

Not only that, some say that the Marsh helleborine is the best looking UK and Irish native orchid species, and they might be right.

They only grow in one public location in Kent, and in only one small area of extensive dune slacks, but that's where they like to grow,

I check in at the reception, and am given the green light to pass the ringing area.

There is a fine display of Southern Marsh, some at their peak, but many beginning to go over. And beyond were two areas of Marsh helleborines, with several spikes fully of partially open, with many more still unfurling.

I took shots using "live view", checked a few spikes to see how pale they were, then moved round to check the larger colony of Southern March, hoping to find a hybrid or two.

I had to go to the far fence, but there were three hybrids, and not that tall either, but showing the tell-tale spotted leaves of having some CSO DNA in them.

I also found six Yellow bartsias too, mixed in with the thousands of Yellow rattle.

Butterflies filled the air, but the strengthening breeze meant many we close to the ground, but good to see at least two Small Coppers.

I had done nearly 5,000 steps, should I go to the dragonfly pools, as this would double the step count?

I did go, against my better judgement, and di not regret it.

Though, no Dainties were seen, lots of Blue Tailed and Four-spotted skimmers were mating and laying eggs.

But it was hot

I walked back along the main road back tot eh car park. I called in the shop and bought a can of Coke and a Magnum.

I sat outside and ate the ice cream as the breeze cooled me down.

Back home then, getting back just gone one to find Jools had made cheese scones, so we ate the whole batch with a huge fresh brew.

Lovely.

The afternoon was hot, humid and so it was easy to sit on the patio and snooze, but making sure I was awake for the quiz.

And good news was that I won.

Yay.

And then another podcast interview regarding the 1999 horror flick, Blair Witch Project, and did it leave me disappointed?

Not quite.

But they were happy as the number of such interviews I have done makes me sound at home being taped and relaxed.

But early to bed, as we have to be up before dawn in the morning for "reasons".