Friday 29th August 2025

How can it be Friday again?

That means getting up early, putting the bins out before coffee.

Jools does a tip run before she goes to her arty class, so I make breakfast as wash up. All to keep busy.

The weather was sunny, but four hours of thunder was expected before two, so we take the umbrella down, pack away garden towels and cushions and blankets.

Rain was to come first, so Jools drives into the village so not to get wet. But the rain really does not come. Clouds gather, it gets darker, but there is no downpour and no thunder.

Soon after Jools gets back just after midday, there was a downpour, but the storm radar didn't show a flash of lightning in 200 miles.

For the afternoon we were to meet Sean and Ange at the Hoptomist for a few beers and a chat, so with the skies clearing, we drive into town.

Once we parked and walked across Market Square, through the crowds of the latest cruise ship in town, before nipping into the micropub, buying a pint each and retiring to the open courtyard out the back.

Sean and Ange arrive, they join us and so began the drinking and talking and laughing.

The small square of sky above clouded over, and a few raindrops began to fall.

No matter.

The rain got heavier, then thundered rumbled around the cliffs high on either side of the town. We took shelter inside, just in time as rain hammered down and lightning flashed.

I read this morning that a funnel cloud had started to form, but no spout either on land or at sea formed.

As the rain continued, we ordered more drinks and crisps.

Half five rolled round. The rain had stopped, so we make a dash for it. I say dash, more of a meander for it, really.

Jools drove us back home, dropped me off so I could do the quiz, and she went back to down to go to Burger Kings to get some dirty unhealthy food.

I had a spicy whopper (without tomatoes) and chill cheese bites, Jools had the chicken royale. Or something.

For the evening, i watched HSV Hamburg play St Pauli, live via the BBC i-player.

St Pauli won an easy 2-0.

A good game.

Thursday 28th August 2025

A day of chores and appointments.

I, foolishly perhaps, said to Jools we would go to the gym every other weekday, meaning on Thursday it was back to Whitfield.

So, after getting up, finding my shorts and drinking coffee. I then find the earphones for the phone, so to have something to listen to when peddling.

Traffic is light, as it is the last school-run free week before the kids go back on Monday, and mornings will be busy again.

I do 30 minutes, and the plan is to increase 5 minutes per session for a week or two, then add additional machines to bring the session up to an hour or more.

I peddle up a mountain in the South of France to the soundtrack of David Bowie and Dire Straits.

Then back home for breakfast and a cool down before the next appointment.

I go with Jools to the hospital to see the consultant, for her to explain the test results and pick up other information, or ask questions that Jools might miss. And because I should be there.

Canterbury NHS hospital is situated through a housing estate, and although not a problem when built, cars now line the main road on both sides, and drivers get frustrated. We have a couple of near misses ourselves, but arrive safely and with 40 minutes to spare.

There is good news.

I mean real good news, though an MRI scan is needed, but nothing that gave the consultant much of any concern.

We leave after twenty minutes, like a weight had been lifted.

We were tempted to go for an ice cream to celebrate, but instead drive home for lunch and a relaxing afternoon.

Back home by one, I use the two remaining rolls to make bacon butties, then finish up with custard creams all round!

It is a cool evening, nearly dark just after eight. An autumnal nip in the air.

We don't put the heating on, however.

And with no football on the tellybox, I go for a shower at half eight, then to bed at nine.

Wednesday 27th August 2025

Wednesday.

Again.

The plan is to go to the gym every other day, so today would be a rest day.

Jools would have her class, whatever its called at eight, and I would drop her in town, then go to Tesco for the week's shop.

Jools jumped out at the lights at the end of Ladywell, I drove past Maison Dieu and along to Buckland then up to Whitfield, where the store was yet to fill with other customers.

When we got up, two cats: Mulder and Poppy did not turn up for breakfast.

We worry.

I went round, deciding to cook tacos for dinner, but managed to forget the sour cream and picked up basil instead of coriander. I maintain that someone put the pack back on the shelf in the wrong place, but its possible I am getting old and made a mistake.

Whatever the case, once home I have to go back to Tesco to get the items I forgot, then dinner would be a goer.

By that time, our two errant cats had returned, found breakfast and were now sleeping on the bed, wondering what the fuss was all about.

Jools was going to try to walk back from town, but changed her mind and after wandering around down town, she caught a train to Martin Mill and asked if I would pick her up.

My task for the rest of the day was to make a huge bowl of ragu.

Once we had a bacon roll. One roll. Each. Start of a new regime to try to lose the weight. All hard tasks start with a first step, and that was ours.

Then I chop vegetables and pot them into the hug pot, add meat, passata, tomatoes and then bring it to the boil, which takes nearly 40 minutes, then simmer for four hours.

Halfway through we nip to Jen's to collect the rest of the cake. They had made a fair dint in it the day before, and it was up to finish it after dinner.

Back home we were nearly rammed by a car not stopping at the give way lines at the Whitfield roundabout, they got two barrels of horn from me.

But back home safe, where I marinade the chicken, make the salsa, make a brew, then get cooking so that at six we sit down to eat, and soon have a mix of spicy oil and sour cream running down our chins.

Later, we have a coffee and try to finish the cake. We have a large slice each, but its too much, really. So, the last segment goes in the bin, and I settle down to watch the football.

Grimsby v Man Utd in the League Cup, and the 4th Division team outplay Utd, and are 2-0 up at half time.

Second half, Unt bring on more "first choice" players, and Harry Forehead gets a leveller with two minutes of play left.

Straight to penalties, and after 26 spot kicks, Grimsby edge it 12-11, dumping Man Utd out.

I laughed like a drain. Like most of the country.

No red flags

Today, we went to the hospital in Canterbury, to see the specialist.

And to make it short, the doctor said there were no red flags in what she could see.

So no cancer.

However, there is a fibreous growth that needs investigating, along with specialist blood works and a MRI scan will determine.

We had gone along expecting the worse, but instead, mostly positive, and the remaining tests will be fast tracked due to the chance of cancer, s should have the scan in a week to ten days.

A much happier outcome than expected, and it took all our willpower not to find an ice cream shop to have a huge sundae in.

Instead we came home for a single bacon roll, two custard creams and a huge fresh brew.

Tuesday 26th August 2025

Growing up, my birthday used to mark the end of the school holidays, or there be a week or so before we went back to our desks.

Chiz, chiz.

I haven't been at school since 1982, but my birthday really marks that soon it will be autumn, the days will shorten, and it will be time to sow next year's flowers in the lawnmeadow.

And it also meant back to the gym.

Sigh.

I hope I am at the point now when I enjoy the gym. For the summer it has been a chore, with the air conditioning not being man enough to keep the whole room cool. But it seems better now, now that the days are cooler. A smidge.

Jools needed the car, so I rushed to get my session done, bailing the last ten minutes as my sleepy brain remembered nine o'clock, but not if that's when Jools had to leave or that's when her class started.

So I went home.

I could have done another twenty minutes, but I should have paid more attention. Something which every school report my disappointed parents read year after year.

Once Jools leaves for the sports centre, I wash up, then go for a shower, lest the internet distracts me again.

Soon I am all scrubbed up and smelling lovely, fresh clothes on, so I go to sit with Scully and look at the garden.

There's a few small jobs left to do, but mostly it looks great.

Its getting too windy for insects now, and will be until the end of the weekend, so there are the usual flowers to snap, and the garden itself.

Jools comes back and we have a brew in the garden.

And then the afternoon stretches out before us. We do some gardening. Or Jools does, then I collect the cuttings from the ivy and blackberry bushes, bagging them up for a tip run.

We have cheese and crackers again, but throw the leftover crackers away, otherwise we would be in the game of buying cheese to use up the crackers, then crackers to use up the cheese and so on.

Norwich were on the tellybox, and stank the place out. Losing 3-0 to Southampton. It was grim to watch, no positives to be taken from it. So out of the League Cup for another season.

Sheffield Wednesday dump Leeds out too.

And so another day drew to a close.

Health update

I had results of my blood test yesterday.

All test readings were up, the main one from increasing from pre-diabetic to diabetic.

Blood pressure, cholesterol both up.

Truth is, we have gone a little crazy since retirement. Maybe not crazy, but strayed from the path, as it were.

I have two months to tackle these and lose weight too.

Oddly enough, beer isn't the trouble, wine and whisky is.Wine doubly so when it comes in boxes.

The pwer is in my hands, so we are going to try to tackle things.

And.

As you may have read, Jools has also been undergoing tests, and last week the results came though last week.

She has a large lesion on an organ, and tomorrow we will get the official prognosis.

I don't talk about her family's health issues, but both her brother and sister have had cancer in the last decade, abd the NHS has enabled them to recover.

At the moment, that's all we know, but if things pan out as expected, she will have an operation then have up to three months house rest.

We shall see.

Monday 25th August 2025

60 years ago, at quarter to eight on a Wednesday evening, right in the middle of Top of the Pops, I entered this world.

Kicking and screaming.

Twenty one years on, I celebrated that birthday with my parents taking me to the poshest restaurant in town, telling me next time I would be paying.

Four years on I did, when I was on the cusp of joining the RAF.

Twenty years ago I celebrated my 40th in naughty Las Vegas with friends from Arkansas, where we dank a lot. Slept little.

Mum told me that once you reach 21, birthdays become something not to be celebrated, and come round every quicker.

This is true.

I live in east Kent, where I have done with Jools for 18 years. I worked locally for a while, but I really have not made friends other than through photography.

Friends are something we find easy to make in school or in the military, but later in life and living in a small village, on the edge of a small village, making friends is proving difficult.

We have a good relationship with our neighbours, and go to the occasional quiz with them on one side, and there is Sean and Ange, of course.

But.

But I am now retired, and unless my volunteering magiks up some friends, life could end up being quite lonely. I have Jools of course.

But you see what I mean.

We had planned on having a celebration: combined birthday and retirement party, but finding a venue that was free, doubly so as my birthday fell on the Late Summer Bank Holiday, venues were just not available.

So, weeks and months slipped by, and the plan was to go to a local pub with friends and family for a few drinks.

One by one they all dropped out until it was going to be just Jools, Jen and me. We have tea and cake at her place and scrapped the pub visit.

Life happens, I know. And being an only child I can make my own entertainment. But even still.

So, into my 61st year, and a new dawn as I am to be a church tour leader. Of sorts. Maybe that will help.

It'll get me out of the house once a fortnight, if nothing else.

So, what should have been a day of drink, food and celebration, was an altogether quietier affair.

I got up at seven, and there was a card from Jools. She sang happy birthday, and we had coffee.

Then breakfast.

Town was pretty busy according to the radar, and even Deal was pretty bad. And got worse, so that the back up plan of going to The Berry was scrapped.

I got calls from friends, wish me all the best for the day.

I sat in the garden with Scully, or ran around after butterflies and moths. I saw a freshly emerged Gatekeeper, some nearly two months after when he should have hatched.

Lots of Large and Small whites on the wing, but with the breeze and bright sunshine, all pretty flighty.

At two we went to Jen's to pick her and John up. But John had bailed, so it would be just the three of us. Then Jools got the cake out: it was huge, so her neighbours came round and so we all had huge slices with a cuppa. Then talked for an hour.

I messaged Sean to say we were running late, but he couldn't make it either, so it was then that I said let's not bother with the pub at all.

So, soon after we came home, opened a bottle of beer for me, and cider for Jools, then sat on the patio looking at the garden and all that visit it.

It gives us joy.

Supper is cheese and crackers, with more cider and a bottle of Chimay grande reserve for me, before I settle down to watch the evening game: Newcastle v Liverpool, which was a feisty affair, with Liverpool nicking it with a goal in the 100th minute.

Sunday 24th August 2024

Its the middle day of the three day bank holiday. Like that means anything these days.

I suggested earlier in the week that she and Ange should think about going to a spa.

And they went on Sunday.

Meaning I was going to be home along for about seven or so hours. But I had chores. And cats.

I got up at seven. Jools was already up, busy and dressed. She made me a coffee, then I did breakfast so that she would have something, then she was off to collect Ange and drive to Ickham.

I have no idea what a spa day involves, other han she took her swimming costume and there would be vegan lunch.

Just as well we had steak for dinner when she got back.

Through the day I seasoned the two ribeyes, and let them marinade in oil.

I wanted to make Pommes boulangère again, but remember the last time I tired I nearly de-thumbed myself with the mandoline.

First up was the caramelise half a pound of onions, taking nearly an hour, then into the afternoon, get the mandoline out and slice lots of potatoes, this time using the guide so to protect my fingers, thumbs and hands.

I make some stock, and clarify a pound of butter. I mean this is not healthy. I place the onions in a baking pot, layer overlapping potatoes, covering each layer with stock and butter.

Four layers, and me having over half a pint of stock, I pour more into the pot, which would turn out to be a huge mistake. And using a non-circular pot, there wasn't anything to sit on the potatoes and cartouche when the baking starts.

Without the weight, the stock and butter is not forced to the surface, so dies not evaporate, and so the finished dish is too "wet", and the there was little caramelisation of the top layers of potatoes.

Between the prep, I do stuff in the garden, chase butterflies round and have lunch. And feed the cats.

And there is football: I chose to watch Palace v Forest in the first game, but it really didn't get going, and the threats of real friction didn't materialise.

Then Fulham hosted Man Utd. By then Jools was home, so I try to speed the cooking of the potatoes, but really didn't work. Come five, enough was enough, I put the corn on to boil and 15 minutes later griddle the steaks, and dish up.

Whatever its failings, dinner was wonderful. The steak perfect, and dipped in the leftover stock and butter, the corn wonderful and fresh, and the potatoes, though not crispy, but cooked and full of flavour.

Another good thing was little washing up. But we tag team that, and are soon done.

And pooped.

Man Utd, despite spending over £200 million on forwards, only score through an own goal, and only draw 1-1.

So it goes.

Saturday 23rd August 2025

I assumed that most railtours passed through Dover, from one direction or another. So, when the Kent Conundrum was announced, double headed by class 50 "Hoovers", I thought about places round here to get the best shots.

Coupled with the late release of the timings, if was only Friday night I realised it was coming nowhere near Dover, and Margate was as close as it got.

So, Saturday morning was using GSV to travel over every overbridge crossing the north Kent coast line, seeing if the bridge was safe to stand on, and to find what the view was like.

I thin saw there was a foot crossing outside Birchington, with good parking nearby. From Google maps it looked perfect, but I would have to visit it first to make sure it wasn't restricted by vegetation or something.

Happy with that, and the fallback to go to Birchington station of needed, we had breakfast, and then I made sure the batteries were charged and the camera settings.

At half ten, I set off for Thanet, along the Sandwich Road, so to avoid the port traffic and the seaside jams at Deal.

I called in at the butchers for some steak for Monday, then carried on to Hoath to do a church, but really I didn't have high hopes as this has been closed the last couple of visits. As it was this time, too.

Seems friendly enough, in a small village, but the porch was open, the main door not.

So, on to Birchington.

The Sex Pistols, The Stranglers and Buzzcocks were playing in Margate, I found out late last night, so I though the traffic might be heavy, but off Thanet Way and into Birchington it was OK.

I stopped for a brew and breakfast in Birchington, but breakfast finished at half eleven and lunch service did not start until midday.

It was 11:31.

I ordered a brew and a slice of chocolate cake, and watched the couple on the next table finish their huge and delicious-looking breakfasts, apparently ordered before half eleven.

It was a short drive to the crossing, a path lead between two houses, and a style leading to the crossing itself.

I went to look at midday, and found clear views into the haze along the dead straight line for several miles.

I would have plenty of notice of the tour's approach.

Just before the tour's arrival, I was joined by a young guy who came to i phone it. By then the locomotive could be seen in the haze, forming as it got closer into the recognisable shape of a large logo class 50.

It mounted the light rise from where the Wantsum Channel used to be, and the rails began to sing of the train's approach.

Then it was on us, I switched to a video at the last moment, recording its closest moments, then swung round as it thundered towards Birchington and Margate.

I walked back to the car, then turned the car round and headed for home.

Not much to report, which was soundtracked by the previews of the afternoon's games and updates as Tottenham beat Citeh in Manchester. Once home we have lunch of Cornish pasties and lemon puffs with a fresh brew.

Being Saturday, there's always football. And so to the disappointment that comes after the raising of expectations as Norwich lose to Middlesborough 2-1, and have a player sent off.

Sigh.

I cooked dinner between the end of the main batch of games and Arsenal kicking off against Leeds. That ended 5-0, while Craig spun tunes on the wireless.

Not a bad day.

Friday 22nd August 2025

Friday.

Again.

And the Friday before a bank holiday, and a day of celebration. But more about that another day.

After putting the bins out, we go to Whitfield for a session in the gym, and a really good one for me, if not that long, its all part of the baby steps in picking the pace up.

We were to go to Tesco. I had packed a bag and had a shopping list, but left my wallet back home. So back home we went, so Jools could get ready for her crafty morning, I got my wallet and went to Tesco.

Shopping when hungry explained the two packs of biscuits, a box of crackers, two boxes of ice creams. And the fruit what I actually went in for.

By the time I got back, Jools had left to walk to the library, so I pack the shopping away, make breakfast and have a bowl of muesli.

Then a shower, and feeling human again, I sit outside with Scully so I could cool down, and spend time with the old lady.

She is doing really well, and now sleeps instead of always meowing for food all the time.

Though she does that when Jools does come home at half twelve.

I walk over the fields, looking for Clouded yellows, as the Lucerne is in full flower. But there were few butterflies about, although to have found Common Ramping and Dense Flowered fumitories.

We have lunch.

Then spend the afternoon on our hobbies: either crochet or messing around online and picture editing.

Its a grand afternoon, not too warm and the breeze dropping. Two Peacock butterflies came to bask and in the late afternoon sunshine, and rather than hassle them trying to get shots, I let them be.

A podcast burbles away, as Mulder and myself sit in the shelter at the bottom of the garden, the sunflowers adding a real burst of colour when the sun breaks through the clouds.

At six I take part on the quiz: I come 5th having guessed it was True Blue, getting it on the James Cagney clue.

And then, out for the evening, to a new Italian place in Dover.

Or a new-old place, as it seems a rebrand and is now called The Italian Kitchen.

It was packed, we took the last table, we had booked. And soon had ordered drinks and food, then came the 40 minute wait as the two guys in the kitchen tried to keep up.

Caprese followed by spicy sausage ragu with tagliatelle. And a bottle of Primitivo.

Lovely.

Jen asked if I would join her in having an Irish coffee. I would indeed.

Jools drive us home, up past the castle, dropping Jen off in Whitfield, then took us back home, so I could watch the last half hour of the West Ham v Chelsea game.

And have one more glass of wine.

Cheers.

Thursday 21st August 2025

Days just fill up with "stuff".

Stuff that pushes other things to one side.

We were to go to the gym first thing, then the garden needed watering, and would have been to warm to do it when we came back, so we watered the garden instead.

After we had drink the first coffee of the day.

And after watering we had breakfast and more brews.

Jools was off out for the morning. Going to see Cath, Mike and see George's new house. Leaving me at home.

So after washing up, I do some gardening: finish watering, deadhead the cosmos and marigolds. And take in the sights and smells of the garden in high summer.

I do check every day for orchid rosettes, but it really is too early to see any.

I then sit with Scully, on the patio, having a brew, just looking at the paradise we have created, and my head filled with plans for the new year.

Jools came back at midday. We had a roll and another brew for lunch, before I went out to snap a steam railtour again.

For a change I went down the harbour to snap Clan Line as she emerged from the Harbour Tunnel and screeched her way past the old Dover Harbour station and round the sharp bend to the Old Town Yard.

I found a place to park outside the Booking Hall, walked up to the roundabout and then along the bridge to where the railway passed underneath.

I want a bit further for the view I wanted, but now the unchecked lineside vegetation obscures some of the view.

Below, a luxury coach had been detained, and the passengers, possibly of a rock band, we milling around chain smoking waiting for their clearance.

Lights appeared at the tunnel portal: was this it? No, a Southeastern Javelin emerged and made its way past me.

It would be five more minutes.

The keen breeze brought clouds, and the threat of more rain, so I was glad when lights were seen again, as Clan Line appeared, coasting at first, then engaging the regulator and puffs of smoke left the chimney, and the sound of her pistons working echoed around.

Little time to waste. Rattle off fifty or so shots, try to get a video with the phone, which I mess up, then across the road to see her accelerating away, the sea behind, trailing a long rake of luxury Pullman coaches, with people eating their silver service lunch.

It was over.

I walked back to the car, then drove up the slope to the roundabout on Townwall Street, then along that and up Jubilee Way to home.

It was half two, and the rest of the day stretched out in front of us.

We had brews.

Of course, then I peeled and cubed potatoes for hash later, letting them soak to get rid of the starch to make them even crispier when fried.

Onions and bell peppers were trimmed, chorizo skinned and sliced, then at half five the cooking process began: the vegetables with some smoked chipotle. Then the chorizo, before finally frying the boiled potatoes so there became extra crunchy.

I dish up. Pour beers/cider and we eat. Eat well.

There was no football to watch, just listen to the radio, and ignore the hated and malice around the world.

Wednesday 20th August 2025

Somehow its Wednesday.

Again.

So Jools goes off to do her Chinese thing at the Riverside Centre, and I am to drop her off, as at nine I am to have a blood test at the surgery in the village.

After coffee, as is civilised, I take Jools into town dropping her off near the centre, then back up past the Castle, along Reach Road to the village, but turning right to the coast instead left to home, so I could check on the Dover Patrol Monument and its Autumn Lady's Tresses.

I parked and right away I could see the turf was short. Indeed it had been cut in the last few days as clippings had not been collected. And the orchid spikes all razed just as they came to peak flowering.

Bastards.

I drive round to the surgery to wait for my appointment, then go in and sit to be called.

We have a chat. Me and the nurse. And I am doing the right things, maybe too much bad stuff and not enough good stuff, but getting there. Truth is, my weakness is not beer, but wine.

Anyway, my blood was red and will be sent off. I go home to make a brew and make breakfast.

There is always podcasts and videos to catch up on, and as I have always been easily distracted.

I scarified the lawnmeadow, so much so it now looks like a lawn. I collected the small twigs and leaves from the hedge trimming.

Jools was going to walk home from town, but it was half eleven when I got a message to say she was leaving town.

I asked, strongly, she not walk all the way home, so it was I went to pick her up at the dogwalker's layby on Reach Road.

Back home for lunch and brews, followed by a relaxing afternoon, partly sitting on the patio, but the breeze strengthened and temperatures turned autumnal, so much so when we went back inside I closed the back door to stop te draught.

For dinner we feasted on Tesco's finest Greek spiced lamb, hassleback potatoes and fresh steamed corn.

It was, needless to say, another triumph.

The evening continued to be chilly, dark by half eight, and I considered putting the blanket on over the duvet.