Thursday 19th March 2026

Before I was born, the Large tortoiseshell butterfly was declared extinct in the UK.

Numbers had fallen for years, maybe due to Dutch elm disease, or something else.

A once common sight in the south of England, gone forever.

A few years back, news of a potential breeding colony was reported on the Isle of Portland in Dorset, with sightings of its caterpillars.

Such sightings were put down to migration or captive release, but sightings spread. To the Isle of Wight, Sussex and then to Kent.

A large wood on the edge of the Romney Marsh held two populations, and as the butterflies emerge from hibernation in late February or early March, it seemed a good idea to go on the warmest sunniest day of the year.

I spoke with the butterfly whisperer, Fran, and she said she would come along and guide me to at least one of the sites, and maybe we would get lucky.

On the 9th March this year, the charity, Butterfly Conservation, changed the status of the Large tortoiseshell from "migrant" to "resident", a change that predates the charity itself.

I am sure I saw one over by Fleet House a few years back. A large orange and brown butterfly that glided rather than fluttered, could really not be anything else. If only I got a picture.

So to Thursday.

Being a Thursday, it was up with the larks, and as it was getting light, so to be leaving the house just before six to get our session done.

I had a new pair of "over-ear" headphones to try out. Although they were sweaty, the sound was fine, and I had a good session, if the time did drag.

Back home for a shower and get dressed, have breakfast, so that come nine, I was ready to meet Fran at the station, and drive us to Orlestone.

I know Kent either through orchids or churches, so I could get us within a couple of miles of the wood, but then let the phone do the hard work to get us to the reserve car park.

From there it was a ten minute walk to one of the four gallops created through the wood, and along these the butterflies spend most of their time, high in the treetops.

We knew from reports that the furthest gallop is where most of the butterflies were the day before, so we walked over there, then slowly walked up and down the gallop a mile each way.

We saw Peacocks, Commas, Brimstones as well as Orange underwing moths, but no Large torties.

We knew that most of them emerge after midday, so with it being half twelve, thoughts turned to whether we should go to the other site, the crossroads.

I had done 14,000 steps already, and my right knee was getting sore, so I said I would stay and walk back down the third gallop, and see if I got lucky.

I bet you'll see one and get shots, Fran said.

Indeed.

They had been gone less than ten minutes when movement caught my eye, and a butterfly landed in the mud about 5m from where I was.

Probably a Comma again, I thought.

As I was looking into the sun, the light shone through its wings, revealing the parallel vertical bars meaning it was a Large tortoiseshell.

I edge closer, got shots, then called Fran to tell her I had one, and it was still beside me. She got the message although the signal broke up.

I waved to two others to come over, they struggled with the deep mud, but as soon as the guy made it, I moved and the butterfly flew off.

But he had binoculars, and he followed the insect up into the trees, where it perched. Fran arrived, and we talked, then there was more movement, as it came down to a lower branch, before gliding back to the ground for more puddling and basking.

There were perhaps eight to ten of us, so we formed a ring a short distance from the butterfly, and we all got shots, while the butterfly showed no signs of moving.

Job done.

Shall we get a dink I asked Fran.

Yes, a drink would be great.

So we walked back to the car all of a dither as the excitement faded, then drove from the wood to Ivychurch, to the pub next to the church, where nursing cold drinks we dined on cheesy chips in the beer garden, while half a dozen Peacocks fluttered about.

I took Fran back to Herne Bay, driving along the coast to Hythe, then up to the motorway and up Stone Street, onto the A2 and up to Faversham before taking Thanet Way back east.

And after dropping Fran off, back to the Thanet Way, to Ramsgate and then to Sandwich, Deal and home, driving back through the late afternoon golden light.

Quite the day.

Summer was garlic chicken and stir fry with noodles, done in twenty minutes. While I was away, Jools had done lots of gardening, and had just sat down, so dinner would be welcome.

And that was the day.

No football in the evening as we were pooped and so went to bed before nine.

Wednesday 18th March 2026

The Kent Church Project, which I grandly names the process of visiting churches in the Garden of England, with the aim to record the exterior and interior of each of the parish churches, or at least the listed ones, began in July 2009.

And the two questions I get are:

1. How many churches are there in Kent?

2. How many more do you have to do?

The answer to both is: it depends.

Kent is not the same now as it was in Hastead's day, a chuck is now part of Greater london.

This is modern Kent.

But historical Kent includes places like St Mary Cray and Bromley.

Jools goes to an art group in Bromley once a month. I was to go with her last month but the weather was supposed to be cold and wet, so I bailed. But this month, on Wednesday, was to be the warmest day of the year thus far.

It was agreed I would catch the ten to nine train, Jools would follow 90 minutes later after her fitness class, and we would meet up for lunch, then either I stay in the pub drinking beer all afternoon to half five, or I come home.

And whilst in Bromley I would visit their parish church. I checked lots of times that it would be open, so all was set.

Jools dropped me off at ten past eight. I went to the buffet and bought a tea and breakfast wrap. It was bland, but warm, and the tea passable.

Then onto the platform, over the bridge and down onto the island platforms of 1 and two, sit and wait for the train to come in.

It was warm even before nine, so I took shots of the waiting Javelin and the station before sitting down to wait some more.

The train rattled in, and we few passengers got on, spreading ourselves out over the four carriages, all ready for the off.

I use this line when I go to Canterbury, but its maybe fifteen yeas since I went to Rochester and Chatham and beyond.

Beyond Rochester be dragons.

The train skipped two stations, so the next was Bromley, my stop. So I got off the now busy train, up more steps and out through the barriers into the town, on the main street.

London buses of various sizes ran up and down, London taxis waited for fairs outside the station. It looked and felt like London.

The church was up the high street about a quarter mile, then left at the junction, and was there, all churchy.

Rows of neat independent shops mixed with chains, all rather pleasing. And with street fruit and veg stalls offering over-ripe bargains.

I walked up, looked in at the jeweller, as my watch is playing up and Mr Timpson says he can't put another battery in it. That that battery cost ten quid to fit, than the actual value of the watch when I bought it.

However, the cheapest watch was £200, and that's without looking at the Rolexes.

I walked on to the church, where I found just the children's chapel was open, for private prayer.

I swore.

I was not happy. And wrote how unhappy I was about it in the visitors book.

It was then that I remembered the parish office was next door, so I may throw myself at their mercy and tell them my long and arduous journey up the line from Deepest Dover.

I knocked.

A lady came to the door, and as I explained that I had travelled nearly an hour and twenty minutes just to see the church, she asked if I'd like to see inside now.

I would.

So I was let in, but told I had to be done by midday for the next service.

I had an hour. More than enough time.

The church burned was destroyed in 1941, and the present church built, but the original tower was kept.

So the modern church is plain, but pleasing to the eye, with nice modern glass, textiles and wall paintings.

I helped set up the communion table, or at least move it into place. And was done, so I tanked all who made my visit so enjoyable, and set off back into the town.

Now, if only I could find a barbers.

The first one I came to had frosted glass, so I didn't bother opening the door. The second one, opposite the station was busy, but on one waiting.

I went in.

I was in the chair within five minutes, and chatting long to the barber as he shorn my locks.

Bromley he thought, when asked, is both Kent and London. He liked it, but then he grew up in St Mary Cray which he made sound like 80s Compton in downtown LA.

Just down the street was the 'Spoons, where I was to meet Jools. I don't normally darken their door, but just once won't hurt.

I bought a pint of elderflower bitter (!) and sat to wait for Jools to arrive on her train at ten past midday.

She arrived, so I had already bought her a cider. We ordered food and waited, where behind Jools was a bank of noisy flashing one armed bandits, as we used to call them.

I had Korean chicken burger, which was crap. The chips were OK, and the onion rings greasy.

But it was cheap, and a pint of Leffe Golden ale was only four quid.

I'd sleep well on the train back home.

I caught the two o'clock train, it was mighty busy, but I got a seat, but not near the window so closed my eyes as the train rattled back south.

At Faversham I got a window seat, so enjoyed watching the countryside roll past until most folks got off at Canterbury, leaving a few of us to go all the way to Dover.

I drove back home, put the kettle on and in my usual manner whiled away 90 minutes, and soon it would be time to collect Jools.

The cats were fed, curtains closed and heating turned up a notch.

Out in the car, driving through the gloaming of a just set sun, past the Castle and down into town, parking outside the station for Jools's arrival.

And once she climbed in the car, I turned round and we went back to Townwall Street, up Jubilee Way to home, where darkness had fallen.

The kettle was boiled, brews made.

The evening was spent listening at first to Newcastle being crushed by Barcelona, then Liverpool easing to a 4-0 win. Sadly, Norwich lost to Southampton, 1-0, despite dominating the game.

So it goes. So it goes.

Tuesday 17th March 2026

Tuesday.

And its back to the gym, and up at the crack of sparrahs so to be done so Jools can go to her class at half seven.

The alarm goes off at quarter past three, so quiet I could hardly hear it.

But I was expecting it.

And out of bed, wash and get dressed, drink coffee and out of the house by ten to six, arriving at the sports centre as the lycra clad hordes were being allowed in.

A minute or two later I follow them in, and up the stairs where I find both bikes empty. But I only need one. So with Jools's headphones I carry on listening to the podcast and begin peddalling.

It's a warm morning outside, and inside I am soon sweating, and not enjoying myself.

Some days time flies by, and on others it drags. This was one of the dragging days.

But I do my time, so can leave. Walking back to the car it was all of ten to seven.

Proper Spring had arrived. Clear blue skies, light southerly winds and warm temperatures. This'll bring on the spring flowers, I thought.

Still none of my favourites in flower when I check them once home after putting out the bird seed.

Jools had made me a brew before she left, so I drank that and was soon ready for a shower.

Exciting stuff!

Once dressed, back downstairs for breakfast and to check on the world.

Its still in one heck of a mess, and with the Orange Shitgibbon in charge in the US, not likely to get better any time soon.

Jools comes back at half eleven.

Hungry, she says.

Shall we go out, I says?

Fish and chips?

Yes, fish and chips.

So into the car and out onto the Deal road, into Walmer and to Deal, where we nab the last parking space, walk up the narrow passageway to The Strand, along and into the chippy.

We take a table in the back room, order scampi for Jools and skate wing for me. And then wait, people watching out of the window onto the side street.

The food came, piping hot, straight out of the fryer, and then straight into my mouth.

Yummy.

Once we had eaten our fill, there was just time to take shots of the beach and pier before getting back to the car and driving to Jen's, as she is having Australian visa issues.

Once in Whitfield, we get the story, in that she is dealing with a third party who are trying to force her into applying for a visa straight away, so they can get their thirty pieces of silver no doubt.

So, instead I go to the Australian Government's website, get better info, and all is peaceful. The agency are put on the blocked calls list, and we all have a brew.

Back home through the school run, with idiots in their Chelsea Tractors parking on the narrow estate roads, blocking other traffic, parking on junctions and being dicks.

Two can play at that game. No, I will not drive on the pavement to allow the woman who did not wait to get by.

It all gets sorted and we're back home in St Maggies, where two hours early, the cats claim its dinner time.

I watch more Mannerism in the Sky catch up thing, and Scully settles down beside me to sleep, not that hungry after all.

As always, the day ends with football: one the radio and on the TV, Citeh and Chelsea do dreadfully, apt for two dreadful clubs, and so are out of Europe.

Monday 16th March 2026

Monday. Again.

And a day with nothing much planned, and so a day in which nothing much happened.

Even the weather was dull, grey, cool, and not really inviting to go out in.

Jools went swimming first thing, getting ready while I slept on, only to be woken at twenty to six by Cleo using my legs as a way of getting from one side of the bed to the other.

Since we went away, I have a whole pile of podcasts, videos and radio shows to catch up on, so there is no trouble that I'll get bored.

And being an only child, I learned young how not to get bored, to read, listen or live inside my head.

And then there is the endless photos of orchids from Cyprus to sort through, edit and post. The blogs are posted, though I need to expand on them to make them more readable, and maybe add a shot or two.

So in doing one thing or another, the morning flies by.

We do find time to go to Tesco, to get fresh supplies as we were out, so we were there at nine, just before the second wave of older customers crashed into the car park.

For lunch there was breaded fish, and leftovers of sprouts and guanciale, creamed spinach and some grains from a pack. And the leftover maple syrup chicken, warmed in the air fryer.

Lovely mix of flavours, which seemed to work.

I watch an art documentary on Mannerism, the movement between the peace and balance of the Renaissance and the blood and cruelty of the Baroque. It is presented by our old friend, Waldemar Januszczak, who could make the phone book interesting. If they still made phone books.

In the garden, still no spawn, cowslips, or pasqueflowers in bloom yet. But close. And the male frogs are still waiting for their lady frog friends to come by.

Supper is, for me, jam on the slightly garlic bread I made. It was interesting, but I liked it.

And then there was football. And talking about football.

Maybe there is too much talking about football, talking about football all too seriously. I switch it off and so watch the Prem game on TV with Scully.

But that doesn't engage, so I go to bed before half time with Brentford leading Wolves 1-0. So miss the three later goals leading to an exciting 2-2 draw.

But by then I was asleep. Fast asleep.

Sunday 15th March 2026

Day two of the weekend. Though every day is a weekend now, of course.

Another bright start with the promise of cloud and rain later.

And after the only coffee of the day, its on with the shorts and off to the gym for some early morning phys.

Papers are full of possible fuel shortages, so we fill the car up just to be sure, and do this on the way to the gym. Hopefully the madness of the Iran war might die down soon. as the Orange One seems to have so little international support. Coming a few days after saying he needed no support.

Anyway.

Peddle. Peddle. Peddle.

And my earphone go crazy, turning the volume up and down, activating voice commands, fast forwarding the podcast.

I have to give up and just pull up a new city to ride round, and there's a new one to enjoy riding round Manhattan.

Time dragged.

We were done by ten to eight, and back home for eight and the start of Radcliffe and Maconie.

We were to have a quieter day, so we listened to the radio for a couple of hours. Jools then went to sow seeds for some summer colour, and I fired the mower up to get rid of some of the lusher grass caused by seeds falling from the feeders.

That took all of ten minutes, and it looked a tad neater.

I looked to the small pond, and see two frogs sticking their heads out, probably males on the lookout for lady frogs. We have no spawn yet, so I take a shot with the phone.

And then it is lunchtime, so thoughts turn to food.

We are low on fresh supplies, so I defrost some ragu, but to make it a meal, I find a recipe for quick Italian bread online. It required adding honey to the water/yeast mix. We didn't have any, so I made do with black treacle, which will give it colour!

Anyway, the bread is all risen and baked for half one, the pasta cooked, mixed with the ragu, and using some of the pasta water, ensures that the ragu sticks to the pasta for a really splendid meal.

We done in time for football, and with the reputation of the Premier League taking a bashing in Europe midweek, two dreadful games on Sunday didn't help things, But Spurs did somehow score an equaliser against Liverpool in injury time to break their losing streak. Though they haven't won a game in 2026 yet.

A Hard Day's Night (1964)

The Beatles redefined what it was to be (in) a band. And they also redefined what an album was.

Bands did't write their own songs, not until the Beatles did, and from now on, all tracks on all the albums were written by one, two or more of The Fab Four. Albus too used to have one or two singles, and the rest filler. Until The Beatles came along.

Even as Beatlemania swept across Britain and around the rest of the world, no one knew how long the ride would last. A two year career is as good as many acts of the time had, so would The Beatles be any different?

As stated in previous posts, most British pop acts would make a film after a year or so of hits, usually with a young photogenic American actress for the international sales, and this is where real money could be made.

The Beatles were approached many times with proposals for a film, but went with Richard Lester. The distributor elected to go with black and white film, something that gives the film a timeless quality.

Ampification of the time was very basic. A simple amp of a few watts was OK for rehersal rooms of the back room of a pub, but in a theatre or cinema where there would be 80% screaming young ladies, The Beatles couldn't hear themselves play, let alone the audience. The only place other than fairs where music could be heard loud was in a cinema. So for many fans, the first time they heard The Beatles loud was in the cinema when they went to see this film.

Coupled with images of the band as large as the side of a house, this was heady stuff.

And on top of this, The Beatles were a gang. A gang the girls wanted to flirt with, and a gang the boys wanted to be a part of, or have something similar. Their easy going interactions with each other, and their humour, quick wits could not be acted, it was real. And this came over loudly and on the silver screens up and down the country.

The album that tied in with the film had the first side featuring music from the film, and new songs on the reverse. All tracks were written by the band themselves, and just Lennon and McCartney. Geoege Harrison also played a 12 string Rickenbacker 360/12, an instrument that would influence popular music well into the next decade. Most heard it on this album first.

Side 1

1. "A Hard Day's Night"
2. "I Should Have Known Better"
3. "If I Fell"
4. "I'm Happy Just to Dance with You"
5. "And I Love Her"
6. "Tell Me Why"
7. "Can't Buy Me Love"

Side 2

1. "Any Time at All"
2. "I'll Cry Instead"
3. "Things We Said Today"
4. "When I Get Home"
5. "You Can't Do That"
6. "I'll Be Back"

The album opens with the world's most famous opening chord. And gets better from then on it. "A Hard Day's Night" is so well known now, and yet it is clear that it was a step change from the two albums that came before. Better production, fuller sould, and a band rich in confidence. The track is one of the best moments in popular music, and yet for The Beatles they would get better and better.

Of course, nothing could etter that opening, but the familiar "I Should Have Known Better" follows, and keeps up the quality, if not the pace. Again, great production, fuller sound fills the ears.

"If I Fell" is, perhaps, the only hint on side 1 of a sound that could have come on either of the first two records. Not one of my favourites.

"I'm Happy Just to Dance with You" perks this up a notch. Though as Jools said as we listened, their subject matter for sings is rather limited. An up temp toe-tapper that rattles along and is gone before you know it. All in under two minutes.

"And I Love Her" opens with some wonderful guitar work, and is, in my opinion, a hint of the wonderful ballards to come in the following years. A song that is some 64 years old, and yet could have been recorded last week, its so timeless.

Next up is "Tell Me Why", an ensomble work, with all bar Ringo on vocals, and the way the three of them compliment each other is just literal music to the ears. A joy from start to finish. Another song about a broken heart.

Side one ends with the other worldwide hit of "Can't Buy Me Love". Can I say anything new about this? I don't think so. The song seems to define the 60s in its short running time, you can imagine all of Europe nodding their heads to this as it played on Radio Luxembourg. A great bluesy guitar break, then building to a fine finish! And we're only at the halfway point.

"Any Time at All" opens side two, with more up tempo foot-tapping, with a key change leading into the chorus. John sings, as he does on the majority of tracks on the album, slightly nasal, which is obvious on the verses, but loses it in the brighter chorus.

"I'll Cry Instead" is an amazing track. Sounding American, that might be that 12 string hard at work under George's fingers. This is probably the best "unknown" Beatle song this far to me. You can hear it's echos in music for a decade or more to come. I love it.

"Things We Said Today" sounds like two songs joined together, with downbeat verses, and upbeat chorus, matching the lyric. The upbeat part is one of those Beatle melodies that other writers and bands would kill for. And they just pulled it out of the air, and made it the tenth track on the album.

Can you imagine being in The Beatles? I mean, a song like "When I Get Home" would be a hit single for most other bands, a driving beat, strained vocals by John again, and the second longest track on the record at just over two and a half minutes. I mean, by now they were a music writing and recording machine, the world would never be the same again, and in north Kent, Jagger and Richards were listening.

I honestly thought side two would be very much in the shade of side 1, but a third in a row of bangers, "You Can't Do That" rattless along, and is another stonker. A warning to John's girlfriend about what talking to another boy would bring. A fine song, great harmonies, and so effortless.

Lennon and McCartney close the record with "I'll Be Back", taking things down a notch, and is another song about a broken love. A stripped back sound, vocal lead rather than the beat. What would the next record bring, we wonders.

Saturday 14th March 2026

It am the weekend again. And we're back home.

And being a Saturday, that means up early to go to the gym for seven. Not that its busy then, just to get it out of the way, and back home for a brew and the day of radio shows and football.

For a change, I did 400k/cal at level 14. It wasn't that hard, and the time soon slipped by, but soon I was nearing 40 minutes, but instead of stopping, I carried on for another five minutes and forty five seconds.

Phew.

Back down to the car where the early morning frost had burned off, and it was going to be a glorious day. For most of it.

We go back home, put the kettle on, while I put the seed out as the birds are chirping angrily. Might be lack of food, or about the birds and bees, who knows?

A shower and shave to feel human again, get dressed and then out for a walk to top the steps up.

Not much rain since we came back, and the ground was fairly firm, so I walked over the field to Fleet House, seeing nothing really new in flower. Other than the Alexanders that were reaching higher for the sky,

I had a choice, down past the farm or look at The Dip.

I realised its a couple of years since I visited The Dip, and guessed its fan club was missing it.

Seems like a few delivery drivers have been following their sat navs and trying to get across the valley on it, only to get stuck. One was a truck that took some towing to free. Anyway, a nice clear sign now warning people.

Seems that not even the farmer uses it much now, as the mud had turned green with grass and other plants. I walk to the top of the slope and take some shots.

I turn round to Fleet House, then along Collingwood so to check on the Coltsfoot, before reaching Station Road, turning left and left so back to home.

Jools had been working in the garden all morning, clearing the upper bed and annoying the two frogs waiting for love there.

No cooking for me today: pork pie and pickles for lunch, just enough to take the edge of hunger before the footy began.

Outside Spring gave way to winter. Dark clouds swept over and darkened. Suddenly, hail began to fall, heavily and getting worse.

Jools was caught out putting her tools away, and was like an eskimo caught in a blizzard.

In half an hour, hail turned to sleet, eased, and the clouds parted once again, and we got some late afternoon sunshine.

Southampton won at Coventry on the telly at half twelve, then on the radio following Norwich, who won again, beating Preston 2-0, thus winning nine from the last eleven games.

And ended the day in the top half of the table (just)closer to the play offs than the relegation places.

Arsenal beat Everton 2-0. So ended the day.