Monday 13th April 2026

The days, weeks and months just FLY by.

Can you believe its Monday agin?

Which means I get to lie in, if either my brain or body lets me.

They did let me unil, twenty to seven. Downstairs I could hear Jools getting ready for yoga. I get up, get dressed and go down. Jools was just leaving.

So I make coffee, check the news in the world, and am not that surprised that the Orange Shitgibon thinks he's Jesus, or a "doctor" as he calls it.

Jools comes back at half eight, so we have breakfast. And the matter of a haircut comes to mind.

I was going to leave it until the kids went back to school, but shocked to find that is on the 20th, and I might die of heatstroke before then, so down into town at nine to try to get a seat.

We park off Castle Street, and in my favourite shop there was a free chair, so I am shown in and he begins his magic.

I see in my reflection that I am now mostly grey, so should i use that "just for men" stuff, or just accept I'm getting old.

The latter I think.

Once I was shorn, I meet Jools in a new café on Market Square, have a coffee and a slice of pistachio cake. Because it was there.

Orchid season is beginning to ramp up, so off to Walmer to check on a small area of grass along the front where a couple of years back, a pair of Green-wing orchids appeared.

I parked nearby, and scoured the grassy area, but no spikes or rosettes seen.

And then to Kingsdown, to the SSSI to look for more Early spiders. Getting onto the site is difficult as the shrub is getting thicker year on year, but the site itself is fine.

I find two well developed rosettes with spikes, but fewer than the dozen or more seen a decade ago.

Then back home.

I was listening to a podcast, and I notice Scull was acting strange.

She got off the sofa by climbing through where the parts of it are supposed to join, but had come lose.

She was then wandering around the living room and kitchen, unsteady on her feet, and apparently nearly blind.

Another hypoglycaemia event.

I check her bloods: 2.5.

So, we try to get some crunchies in her, give her some sugar water. Half an hour later, her reading was 3.6.

More food, more sugar water.

She still staggered around, pupils dilated, but when pointed to food and water, she would eat.

Half an hour later, her bloods were still only 3.7.

More food, more water.

Jools had to go out, so I look after Scully. I turn round to find her no longer wandering around, drunklike, instead she was washing and lying just behind me.

I check her bloods: 7.8.

Out of danger.

She is off to the vet's on Wednesday, and so we hope to get some pointers.

Anyway, what brought it on was Scully not eating full meals, so the insulin acted like she had, so her sugars crashed.

So, something else to bear in mind in the future.

I spent the afternoon snapping pre-war postcards and photos for a possible donation to the Guard's Museum in London. But having done that it turned out most were widely commercially available and the museum had them already.

So, they will go back in the box until the house is cleared when we are no more.

I prepare dinner. Nothing special.

That left us the evening to fill. And there is football.

Of course.

Manchester United reverting to form and being outplayed by Leeds, who won at Old Trafford for the first time since 1981.

Hurrah.

So it goes.