Monday 23rd March 2026

It is Monday.

Again.

But, no worries. No work, and literally no worries.

I do, however, have to go to Deal first thing for some foot fondling.

When I say that, I mean as I was diagnosed with diabetes last year, hope to soon not be, but I have to look after my feet, and there is a podiatrist in Deal, who checks my feet, trims nails and gives advice.

This would be my third visit.

But we woke up to a right old pea souper.

I mean at times we could not see beyond the bottom of the garden. Which most days is not a problem. But going to Deal could mean the right turn at the bottom of Station Road, and two weeks back a neighbour, Jerry, got T-boned turning right there. Wasn't injured, but the car totalled.

Just to be safe, I leave early, and drive to the Duke of Yorks, go all the way round and back along the Deal road.

Safe as houses.

Even with the thick fog, 10% or so of cars had no lights, and about another 10% had fog lights on.

I have no words.

So, I drive into Walmer and find a place to park near Deal Castle, then walk along the promenade to the base of the pier, just for some snaps in the fog. Even then it was lifting, and instead was just plain murky.

I went to the High Street to the brand new branch of Greggs, have a sausage roll before walking to the clinic.

The day had begun, traffic was thinning out. A dust cart was doing the bins as I walked along.

Up the stairs and into the chair where she assessed my feet. Applied a dressing to a wound I got from Cyprus, caused by socks. Don't ask. Nails trimmed, skin sanded down and cream applied.

I walk back to the car and am home in ten minutes, as Jools is off out, also to Deal for a walk and to take a friend for a coffee.

So I was home alone. Have breakfast, fill the feeders and watch videos.

The morning ticks by.

There is more sorting of stuff to do. Two more boxes of books and photos brought down from the loft, so I spend the afternoon filling the family albums with more shots. Most doubles, I'm sure, but I lost the will to check.

Only I will ever look at these albums, and I am doing them so if the family are looking down, I might not visit their graves often, I have sorted out their memories and photographs.

That done I cook dinner.

Which we eat listening to Desert Island Discs, which passes an hour until the afternoon becomes early evening and its time to feed the cats and wash up.

No football to watch.

Oh noes.

So, Jools goes out to visit her brother, and I stay in and watch some science stuff about Jupiter.

As you do.

New front in the culture wars

As if the wars on Easter, Poppy Day and Christmas were not enough to get the red flushed faced up in arms, its now money.

For the last few years, the Royal Mint has replaced all the definitive coins with ones featuring British fauna and flora. Though most wouldn't have seen them yet, as mintage has been very low due to people using cashless, but the "bee" pound coins are out there.

So far so nature.

Right?

Well, news came last week that the notes are going to be replaced with animals and plants too, incuding the £5 note.

The current note, brough in, according to the Mint's own website only in 2016, features one Winston Churchill.

"Messing with tradition!.

"Replacing Churchill with a badger!"

And so on.

There is nothing about erasing our heritage or histroy, just change. Change in something that has only featured the wartime leader for a decade.

Maybe they could get worked up about something not so pathetic next time. But I doubt it.

Sunday 22nd March 2026

Sunday.

Again.

Being a Sunday, it means going to the gym first thing. Well, after coffee and getting dressed.

Not much to say about the gym really.

We went.

We cycled.

We puffed.

And left.

So, back home just after eight, and with it being a bright and sunny warm day, it would be a pity to spend it watching football.

I say "warm", and it was indeed warm when the sun found a gap in the clouds, but at other times, the wind that had shifted round to the north, made it chilly.

After breakfast, Jools finished the bed at the front of the house, taking the old lavender out and planting younger ones on their place, so the path was revealed again.

I had a shower, then ran the mower over the now vigorous sprouting grass, but leaving the lawnmeadow part alone.

It looks kind of neat.

At midday the football began. Three games in a row, all worth watching, and yet another day spent on the sofa seems a waste.

Just as well as there's an international break next week, so much less football on the TV.

The Tyne-Wear derby was up first: Newcastle v Sunderland, and Sunderland scored late to take the points and bragging.

Next up the Meh Derby: Spurs v Forest, where the loser could be relegated. A game neither, then, could afford to lose. But Spurs did lose, 3-0 after dominating the first half, only to concede in the last minute before half time. And never recovered.

Finally, the League Cup Final between Citeh and Arse: a fair game in which I wanted both teams to lose, but one had to win, and that was Citeh.

Oh well.

Pizza and beer for dinner during the final, and that was the day and weekend done with.

Saturday 21st March 2026

The first orchid in Kent was found to be in flower on Fray. An Early Purple in the Faversham area.

In previous years I would have gone out to all the sites I know, checking spikes for one in flower.

But I am different now.

Also, we had to go out at weekends, as we worked during the week, but now we go out during the week, mostly to avoid people.

So, although it took willpower on my part, we did not go orchiding over the weekend.

But we did go to the gym Saturday morning. Me with my new headphones too. Jools went swimming, so I cycled alone, which is fine.

Another fine Spring morning, cool enough for a ground frost on some cars and the field at Westcliffe, but would warm up.

After phys, I popped to Tesco for a few things to tide us over until mid-week. I bought no beer, but did buy cider for Jools so she didn't run out.

Then back to the sports centre to pick Jools up when she came out of the sauna and had a shower. So back home for half eight for breakfast of short life savoury stuffed eggs and a fresh brew.

Jools did gardening, and I had a shower, prepared potatoes for hash, then vacuumed the utility room, kitchen, living room and stairs.

The vacuum is also the Mk1 cat scaring device, so they either went upstairs or out.

At half midday the football marathon began: Ipswich v Millwall which ended a fair 1-1 draw.

Then to the radio to follow Norwich at Charlton, as our injury crisis deepened, and yet City won 1-0 so now have 54 points and are 12th.

At some point I cooked hash, and we ate whilst the radio or TV burbled.

Then to Coventry at Swansea, and Coventry were 3-0 up at half time and cruising, with all teams just below them either lost or drew. So I switched over to watch the second half of Everton v Chelsea, and was rewarded with a 3-0 home win as the cheats lost again.

I couldn't face a 5th game, Leeds v Brentford, so went to bed at half eight, so missed the 0-0 draw.

Friday 20th March 2026

We reached Friday, 364 days since my last day at work.

Time has flown.

The spring and summer and then first part of the weekend was easy, going out lots. But once the clocks went back, the long dark evenings dragged, but with our hobbies and interests. And the gym, time went quick, and any thoughts of needing to return to work was banished.

After two busy days out and about, Friday was to be a quiet one, with Jools out at Yoga and the library all morning. And on top of that, two tip runs.

While I stayed home and did stuff.

In the garden the cowslips are coming into the flower, and the pasqueflowers will be next. It was a wonderfully warm morning, warm enough to sit in the various places in the garden as Sol travelled across the sky.

Scully and Cleo joined me down at the bottom patio under the shelter. Cleo being contrary, demanded strokes and cuddles as she rubbed against my legs. Most of the time in the house, I can't get near her.

Cats.

Jools was due home at two, so lunch at half past of homemade buttermilk chicken, steamed vegetables, creamed spinach and Spanish rice.

That went down well.

Then came an hour or two of more relaxing, washing up until it was time for the music quiz, which I again had a mindblank on, so failed to guess Everything Must Go.

As its the last weekend before the international break, there was Prem football in the evening: Bournemouth v Man Utd, which ended a 2-2 draw, and was entertaining.

Which is about all I can ask.

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.