Thursday 12th February 2026

Thursday.

The days, weeks and months now fly by.

It only seemed yesterday it was Monday, and the day before that, Christmas.

And yet here we are nearly at the end of another week.

And a day nearer Spring, of course. Though you could argue that perhaps it has already arrived here in east Kent.

After getting up at five fifteen again, getting dressed and drinking coffee, by the time we left for the gym at five past six, it was already getting light to the south east, birds were singing.

All very springlike.

The roads around here, like for most of the country, are falling apart. As soon as one pot hole is repaired, repaired again properly, another opens up, causing you to swerve or slow down.

So far our car is undamaged.

The gym is busy, people already into their workout by the time we arrive and are all dressed down, podcast lined up.

And off I go, another forty minutes done, and I will up the level at the weekend, but my fat hairy legs did ache afterwards.

We get back home safe and sound, and have a welcoming cool down brew.

Jools was taking a friend to William Harvey for an appointment, while I stayed here and had a shower, shave and looked after the cats. Not that they took much looking after.

The expected rain didn't arrive, instead the clouds parted and the sun shone, and in the light wind, it almost felt like Spring.

Certainly it was warm enough to sit on the bench with second breakfast and another brew, glorious with the sun on my face, and Scully laying beside me, purring with joy.

The birds were busy on the feeders, and a starling sat on next door's chimney singing a variety of songs.

Jools was gone nearly four hours, so once she came back I prepared lunch: sweet chilli salmon, stir fry and noodles. All pretty good, and full of fibre.

But lacking in carbs.

Which explained why at six I was toasting buns and grilling half pound burgers for supper as we were hungry.

Burgers mandate beer (or cider), so Jools ate hers while watching Small Prophets, the new series on BBC, which she binge-watched over two nights. And enjoyed it.

I rarely watch drama or anything much else than football, history or science now.

Football on the radio in the evening, but on Talk Shite, so full of ads, as part of the commentary.

Annoying.

Wednesday 11th February 2026

Wednesday.

Hump day, and as it turned out, quite a busy day.

As I could lay in bed all day if I wanted, my stupid brain had me awake at quarter to five and waiting for Jools's alarm to go off.

Which it did.

Then snoozed to half six, where I sprung out of bed, as I was to join Jools in going down town, so I could get my hair cut.

It seemed the best use of times for me to go down when she was at her class, share the car, then meet afterwards for breakfast before the next couple of tasks to do.

So it was I dropped Jools off at the Riverside Centre, then went to park behind St Marys. Walked to the High Street and when confronted by four closed barbers, I remembered my last time when I did this and having to wait until nearly nine until one opened.

So I walked along to Costa and ordered a bowl of cappuccino and a cherry Bakewell. Though the latter wasn't a patch as the one I have a week earlier on Dorridge Station.

I took my time in eating and drinking, and strung it out to nearly half eight, when the first of the barbers was due to open.

Of the barber opening, there was no sign, so I walked up and down four times, passing the four joints on each pass, until I saw the one I like turn the lights on, so I stood outside.

But he went out back to make a brew, so I stood in the drizzle, waiting.

Time passed.

He opened up, remembered me and what I liked, so he got busy making me look presentable again.

I looked at my reflection, and saw for the first time that my face is now thinner than it was, although my jowls need some work.

Anyway, half an hour later, it is done, so I pay him and leave.

I walk to the café, and order a pot of tea while I waited for Jools to come and join me.

I had a simple cheese toastie, whilst Jools had some kind of North African breakfast with tomatoes, onions, chorizo and eggs.

We eat.

Back then to the car, and a drive up to Whitfield so we can go to the carpet warehouse and the paint shop. For the bathroom decoration.

I can't tell you how many different vinyl carpets there were. Hundreds maybe. But knowing the walls would be similar to what we have now meant we chose some pink speckled thing and arranged for their guy to come and measure the room on Thursday.

Next door was the paint shop. We had been told by Jon that a red colour her liked, and the manufacturer.

They don't make it any more.

So we chose something which looked close, took note of the stupid name so that the guys could order it when the time came.

We could then go home for a couple of hours, until it was time to go out for the U3A churchcrawling group.

For reasons, Jools was driving, and we had two ladies to pick up from Walmer and Deal, so we headed into Deal, nearly out the other side for the first one.

Then back to Walmer, past the Berry to where the second lady lived, so we had a carful.

The to Folkestone for the visit, to St Easnswythe, where I had arranged the visit, and a guide from the church historian.

Jools dropped us near the church, so we waited until the others arrived, I went to the parish office, and we were allowed in, and we were given the grand tour.

But by heck the church was cold.

They only have the heating on on Sunday when there's a service, so a stone box in winter is indeed cold. Some in the group struggled to keep warm, but the talk and tour was interesting as the history of the church was revealed.

When we left at twenty past three, the clouds had cleared and the sun was out so the house on The Bayle, all pastel shaded painted glowed in the late afternoon light.

We waited for Jools to return, then climbed in so Jools could drive us back along the A20 to Dover, then to Deal and Walmer before turning for home.

But I was thirsty. I said to Jools if there was a parking space outside the Freed Man in Upper Walmer, I'd pull in, and we could go for a pint.

As it happened, there was a space, so I pulled in, and in 30 seconds we were walking over the crossing to the bar.

There was a good stout on draught, so I had that, whilst Jools had a cider.

That was better.

But only the one as I was driving.

But when we went outside, the chippy two doors up was frying, and the fish and chips felt delicious.

Fancy chips? I said.

Of course.

So we had cod and chips twice. £26, something for which in 1975 cost £6.

We rushed home and as I made drinks and plated up, Jools tested and red the cats, so in five minutes after getting in, we sat down to eat, platefuls of fried crispy goodness.

And as always, there was too many chips, so half went in he bin as reheating them isn't the same.

And that left an hour before the football started, with another half round of games in the Prem and a Championship game on the telly.

Lovely.

Tuesday 10th February 2026

It is now noticeable that Spring is on the way, even if the weather is endlessly grey and raining.

Some parts of the south west and south Wales have had 41 days with rain, and there is flooding in many low-lying areas.

Even here in Kent, the rain has been relentless, turning paths and tracks to mud, and water gathering in dips on roads to cause more issues for driver.

And then there is the curse or potholes that are all over the country, the main road from the village into Dover is having to be repaired every week as new holes open up.

But in the garden there are green shoots, and the dwarf Iris have begun to flower. First just one, then two days later, half a dozen.

Tuesday begins with an early morning alarm at five fifteen, and so get up, get dressed and go to the gym for six, then on the bike for another session, while listening to A Word in Your Ear.

Time goes quickly.

A thick fog had fallen, turning Dover into Victorian London, dulling sounds and lights. I drive back carefully.

And then back home so Jools can go to her fitness class and then another stich and chat group, leaving me at home to have breakfast, and have a shower.

Rain falls gently outside. The kind of drizzle that soaks into clothing. Weather that looks better from inside, on the sofa holding a fresh, hot brew.

The morning passes slowly. I peel and cube potatoes for hash, then boil them, so all ready for when Jools comes back.

Instead of going out for chores, I cook and we eat at two, while outside the rain falls.

Darkness comes at nearly half five, even on a dull, dreary afternoon. Spring is coming, it might just be wet.

For the evening there was football on the telly, Norwich away at Oxford, and footy on the radio.

Heaven.

Norwich had an injury crisis, with many new signings or young players stepping into the team, no matter, City cruise to a 3-0 away win, and so rise to 16th in the table.

Not safe yet, but better than being seven points adrift as we were at the end of October.

And our new centre forward, Mo Toure, scored a hat trick on his full debut. Josh who?

Monday 9th February 2026

Its Monday again, and so the working weeks starts again.

For some.

I read old blog posts over breakfast, and I can read the sadness in my words when I wrote that the weekend was over and Monday morning rolled round again.

I think I did six consecutive days with at least 8,000 steps, so I thought I would have a day of rest, even if over the weekend most of the "steps" were recorded on the bike in the gym.

As I could lay in bed until whenever I liked, my stupid brain had me awake at quarter past five, with no chance of dropping off again.

So I get up.

Jools goes swimming, and so I am alone, so stand in the kitchen with a coffee, watching the sun come up over the other side of the valley.

Once Jools comes back, we have breakfast, but she now takes a friend out for coffee on Monday morning, so I am alone again, and after some early drizzle, the sun actually comes out for a few minutes before lunch.

Lunch was bacon butties. Or butty. As we eat less now.

And then 90 minutes watching Bangers and Cash with Scully on the sofa.

In a surprise move, I went out to do some gardening. Pruning, or sawing last year's growth off the buddleia, putting the branches in the brown bin ready to be collected on Friday.

I even put the saw and other stuff back in the shed.

Supper was sausage rolls, made with the last of the Christmas stock.

Life is too short to make your own puff pastry, so the shop-bought one was fine.

And so another exciting day drew to an end, with just Sheffield Utd v Middlesborough to entertain through the evening.

Sunday 8th February 2026

About a decade ago, we put some books in the attic to see if we would miss them, and if we did we would take them to the charity shop.

Then the trapdoor to the attic broke, and I bodged it with a screw or two, and although the door held, we couldn't open it.

Truth is, all it needed was a catch to hold it closed, turned out to be a five minute job, fixed after the plumber had to go in the loft to reset the water.

And so then, the books.

On top of the books, are several photo albums, all of which I have digitised, so what to do with them? I have no family left, no one to leave family pictures to, let alone pictures from work's parties in the late 80s.

The albums are still pretty good, but who uses them now? I guess its the tip for them.

Jools got them down when I was away. I didn't want to throw them, but who needs them, and the space they take up?

So, the tip it is.

That was Sunday morning sorted. Or at least once we were back from the gym and cooled down. And me had a shower.

And we had breakfast.

It was another bright day, but felt cold, especially with me still in my shorts.

Before the football started, I cooked lamb and mint pies, roast potatoes, steamed veggies and the last of the gravy left over from the roast beef.

It was glorious.

I also finished up two opened bottles of red. One had less than a glass, the other over two. I slept partly through the Brighton v Palace game.

Then the big game, Liverpool v Citeh. A bit of a chess game for seventy minutes, then it went crazy and was over with Citeh winners, 2-1.

And that was the weekend over with.

A lack of confidence

I was away last week, so missed some of the news.

It was dominated by Peter Mandleson and the fact as Ambassador to the USA, he passed trade sensitive information to convicted sex trafficer, Jeffery Epsten, after Epstein had been convicted.

Keir Starmer had appointed him as Ambassador, replacing the previous incumbant, who had done nothing wrong, but despite warnings about Mandleson's previous untrustworthy behaviour.

On Wednesday, at PMQs, Starmer was skewered by Baddenoch on the issue, and then the Cabinet Office said it would release documents relating to Mandleson, after redacting what it deemed to be in the National Interest.

Parliament did not belive the Cabinet Office, and instead decided it would form a committe, and that would decide what was in the National Interest, not take the Cabinet Office's word.

This is remarkable. Parliament, or the House of Commons, deciding, with a majority of Labour MPs, that it cannot trust the Cabinet Offfice's statements on the matter of National Security!

This has been largly missed by the media, but is a remarkable turn of events.

Instead, it has been a feeding frenzy about Mandleson, Andrew and the Epstein files, and yet no one seems to be concerned with the victims of trafficing or those who were under age when they were raped. Raped by the great, rich and "good".

The Government is now not in control of the release of documents, a process that would have previously been under the control of Ministers and lawyers.

Saturday 7th February 2026

It is the weekend again. Apparently.

After four days away, it was good to be home, sleep in my own bed, even if I woke up covered in cats.

Or cat.

But it was a Saturday, and that meant a day of phys.

I could have bailed as i did 40,000 steps over four days away, but if I were to skip a session, then that could be a slippery slope.

Jools had booked swimming, so I could go to the gym, and plod on at my own pace. Not that we race each other.

So, after coffee, we were on our way to Whitfield, I made my way upstairs, while Jools went to the changing rooms downstairs.

I had listened to all current podcasts when away, so I listened to an old Parallel Universe as I puffed away.

Once done, with Jools planning on going to the sauna and having a shower, I went to the car and drove to Tesco to get some fruit and veg.

And filled the tank up.

A text to Jools to say I was done, so when I got back to the sports centre, she was coming down the steps. She hopped in and we drove home, all tasks done for the day.

Once back we put the shopping away, make a brew and feed Scully again.

Before breakfast, I went for a walk along to the street to snap flowers in bloom before the rain arrived.

Just as well I did as rain did arrive before lunch, by which time I was shave, showered and dressed again.

On the walk, the Alexanders had began to flower, so I snapped them. That was about if for the new flowering plants, but many more to come soon.

Lunch was stir fry and chicken, so to have fibre into us, and that was it as the afternoon turned towards football.

Norwich were on the telly, playing Blackburn. A piss poor game, but Norwich scored twice late on to take the points and move four places up the table.

Then onto the sofa with Scully to listen to the main batch of games, before it was rugger bugger time, with England playing Wales.

Could Wales find their old form?

No.

England dominated, and were 29-0 up at half time.

So it goes. So it goes.

A quiet beer and some peanuts in the evening, and that another day at the coalface done.

Phew.