Friday 1st May 2026

Friday.

And the first of May.

The year now rushes forward, with days tumbling past us and our next adventure coming over the horizon.

That being said, it was Friday, and that means bins.

Jools had been suffering from a pain in her side, so missed yoga, just in case, meaning we were home together as the sun climbed.

Overnight there was supposed to be rain. But none came, meaning we have had little rain for two months now. But what we had over the winter is keeping the winterbournes flowing.

Jools did go to knit and natter, and once she had gone, I took my camera out to hunt for Holly blue butterflies.

The orchid at the end of the street still hasn't flowered, but a spike is forming. I knocked to tell the house owner that progress is slow and if they could keep the mower off for a while longer.

She said yes, and that the orchid is the subject of lots of conversation between neighbours and the passing dog-walkers. I just hope they won't be disappointed when it does finally flower.

Though I suspect it might now be a Bee orchid.

I would have walked further, but there were three dog-walkers about, and it looked like to of the dogs were fighting over the fields.

I turned back and managed to snap a Holly blue as one settled on some ivy, and paused long enough to get a shot.

I came home for a brew, then sat in the sun on the top patio watching the birds and insects. Another Holly blue landed near me, so I snapped that too.

And that was the morning.

We were hungry, so as soon as Jools came back home I cooked chorizo hash, taking nearly an hour to cook as the potatoes took their time to brown.

At two we sat down to eat, toasted each other and we tucked in.

And that was it really for the day.

We sat in the garden to soak up some rays and be pestered by cats. It grew chilly as the shadows lengthened, so we went inside.

No music quiz this week, so it was straight to the evening football, as Leeds put Burnley to the sword, winning 3-1. I went to bed ten minutes from time, happy that there was no way back for Burnley.

What is football for?

Last weekend, Burnley FC, had their relegation confirmed.

They have played 34 games, amassed just twenty points, and have a goal difference of -34.

A couple of days later, they fired manager Scott Parker, who had lead the club to promotion last year, while on the way to second spot, they conceeded just 16 goals in 46 games. Needless to say, that was a record.

I can remember Parker playing on loan for Norwich early in his career, having a man of the match performance, and afterwards being interviewd in the supporter's lounge while his proud parents looked on. I spoke to them, they were indeed proud, and nice, not in a bad way.

Parker has now took three English cluns to promotion: Fulham, Bournemouth and now Burnley.

Fans are divided on his, as his teams play "pragmatic" football, good enough for the Championship and promotion, but not for staying in the Premier League.

A supporter who was spoken to by Radio 5 said fans of the club were celebrationg, but the sacking had come months too late. It was obvious Burnely were going to go down with Parker at the helm.

So, the point is this, in terms of Burnley FC, what is its objective? Is one triumphant season in the Championship, then a season of defeats in the Premier League, where they earn £100 million not enough?

Is the point of Burnely, and so all football clubs, is to win games. Or to entertain?

Bing in the Premier League two seasons out of three isn't good enough. If not, what is? If they were to finish 17th, is the expectation for the next season to finish in 15th or higher? Is there no ceiling on supporters, owners and chief executive's ambition?

This is the Enron kind of thinking, that year on year the club, the team has to get better and better.

And what then of Arsenal?

Arsenal, a month back, were going for the quadruple. Then defeat in the League Cup to Citeh, and in the FA Cup against Southampton, reduced that to a double. Then defeat at home to Bournemouth allowed Citeh to catch up in the league. Should Arsenal fans just be happy in finishing second year after year? Most other teams and their supports would kill for that, but then the thought at the start of the season that Arsenal had two great players in each position, this would have to be their year: no excuses.

But it wasn't always like this. Teams used t go up and down the table year on year. Sometimes relegated, and there was no riots. It was something that happened. Spurs went down in the late 70s, Manchester United went down in 1974, relegated at Maine Road by a backheel of a former player.

They bounced back.

Clubs used to go on runs of bad results. Managers weren't sacked. Life went on. And teams won again. Or didn't. It never was a crisis. Now if Arsenal or manchester United or any other other "big" teams lose even a single game, its a crisis. Is the manager safe, the headlines scream? Frank Lampard of Steven Gerrard is being considered.

If Steven Gerrard is the answer, what the feck was the question?

I saw it myself when Norwich were relegated for the second time in three years in 2022. Fans turned on fans, spite and vitreol on social media, so bad I unfollowed most Norwich fans on Twitter.

When did we, as fans, get so above ourselves to think we and the clubs we support somehow deserve success? We have to lear to accept failure, being runners up, or relegation of the yang to the ying of lifting a trophy or two. Life is all ups and downs, and we can't appreciate the ups if we haven't suffered the downs.

Maybe, we all take it a tad too seriously for our own good, and on a Saturday afternoon, or whenever TV decides our team plays, instead of watching it, we should just go and watch some nature. Or a film. Or go down the pub. And chill the feck out.

Thursday 30th April 2026

The orchid and butterfly season gets earlier every year.

Some people might deny global warming, but Mother Nature adapts to the warmer temperatures, and plants flower, butterflies and moths emerge when the temperature is right.

Orchids, at least the early season one, flower between two and three weeks earlier than when I started snapping them a decade and a half ago. Species like Fly Orchids were a May species, they now flower in the second week of April. Or start to.

I had seen that the nationally rare butterfly, The Duke of Burgundy, was on the wing, but once we arrived at Bonsai, I wasn't prepared for the numbers we saw in what was just still April.

I had arranged with Iain that he would tag along to see more orchid species.

Being a Thursday, we went to the gym at six, and we both on the bikes a couple of minutes later, doing our sessions. And then to Tesco to get supplies to cover the weekend, minimal amount, so I would use u the stuff in the fridge already.

Back home for half seven, we take turns for a shower, get dressed and have breakfast. So we were ready when Iain pulled up outside just after nine.

It was a pleasant drive up to the Hythe turning, then up Stone Street before turning off at Petham, where the timber-framed houses and cottages were draped with the flowering branches of wisterias.

Onwards, turning off, along a couple of six-foot-sixers to the parking spot on Pennypot Lane.

We had arrived.

From there it is a twenty minute amble to the gates of the reserve, before clambering down the worn steps into orchid and butterfly central.

Every year Bonsai is different, so one really doesn't know what to expect on ear year's first visit.

This year, numbers of Lady orchids are certainly down, though those that were there were more advanced than expected, with one spike already in full flower.

First of all we took time to wander round the bushes nearby, looking for the orange and black colours of basking Dukes, and were rewarded with about four of them, though we chased them until they settled on the grass, allowing us to quite close.

There were good numbers of Early purples, though some were already browning off. Pollenated and ovaries swelling with the seed of future generations.

We walk on and find many Lady Orchids in flower, many more putting up spikes, so that in two weeks there will be hundreds in flower. Although some of the banks leading up the the track than in previous years were carpeted by Ladies, were almost bare, with the densest numbers between the upper and lower paths, where work had been undertaken to think out the trees and shrubs.

At the far end I got shots of a couple of males on the ground, or slightly higher on small plants, so their fine underwing pattern could be seen.

We walk down and round to the lower path, looking for more orchids and anything else interesting.

We found three spikes of Fly, rosettes of Common Spotted, and a spike of White helleborine in flower. With plenty more to flower in the next week.

Back at the steps, we bump into a couple who were looking for Dukes, and were asking identification on several orchids they had seen. My area of expertese!

And with that, it was the long walk back to the car. Jools had gone ahead, so we plodded on, the day now at midday, and it now getting beyond warm.

On the way back we saw several butterflies: Brimstone, Large White, and a single fresh Comma. All good stuff.

We reach the car, so it was a simple task of reversing out and heading back to Stone Street before turning south back to the motorway and home.

At least traffic was light.

And once back, Iain leaves, and we go in for a brew and think about lunch.

I had done nearly 14,000 steps, more than enough I thought, so I sat on the patio enjoying the sun until it became hot again, so I sought shelter inside, and a beer.

Supper was garlic chicken, stir fry and noodles, which came together in twenty minutes, so I dished up and we ate to a recent Steve Lamacq show, something we had not listened to in nearly two years, since he no longer did his daily show. Good to hear new music again.

The full moon rose at dusk behind the house, hanging like a giant cheese above the horizon, while I listened to to Forest v Villa in their European semi-final on the wireless.

Wednesday 29th April 2026

Wednesday.

Halfway through the week and nearly the end of the month.

A year ago we were enjoying our last full day in India before returning home. Turns out there is only so many curries you can have in three and a half weeks, and we yearned for something other than lentil dahl.

But we are home now, and we had lentil dahl for dinner, although when we did return hoe, it was six months before I could face a curry.

I'm a little run down due to banging my shin last week. It don't look pretty, and takes time to do its thing before healing. I had hoped the phys had increased circulation to the extent that my legs were getting better. I think they are, just not as quick as I would have wanted.

So, an easy day then, resting up and trying to ignore the pain, though the pain isn't that bad..

Jools went to her class, leaving me home. I had gone back to sleep after waking up at five, waking with a jolt at twenty past six to find myself pinned to the bd by Cleo.

So, after making myself a coffee, and once the day had warmed up, I sat on the patio with Scully as we pretended that the day was warmer than it looked, thanks to the keen east wind.

It may have looked like Spring, but didn't feel like it.

At least down on the ground, in the lawnmeadow, the Yellow rattle is beginning to bloom, and so it will explode into colour and be alive with insects.

I go out at lunchtime to snap a railtour. Not a railtour, but a test run for a railtour.

A friend had given me timings, I had tried to find if it was accurate, but no luck online. So I drove over to Shepherdwell for quarter to one ready for the class 73 top and tail action.

Only it was now routed through Ashford, and there wasn't time to get to Dover to get in position to see it arrive, so went home as Jools needed the car for a tip run.

One of us had to stay home for the delayed deliver of insulin for Scully, because as soon as it was delivered it had to be refridgerated, and it was already a day late. The customer service from DHL was appalling as their phone number wouldn't connect, and there was no answer from their Watsapp number. And when I asked the driver where the parcel had been, he just shrugged.

Our neighbour, Mick, knocked. He had a huge bag of rhurbard. Take as much as you want, he said, we're off on holiday tomorrow, and have a glut. So I took a huge bundle and was soon stewing the chopped stalks for a crumble over the weekend, and then makin syrup with the remaining juice to pour over ice cream. We just needed ice cream.....

And that was as exciting as the day got. Other than listening to Arsenal on the wireless in Europe, where they drew 1-1. No footy on the telly, so I just listened and drank slow port.

Tuesday 28th April 2026

It is the start of the main orchid season.

Which means out and about whenever possible.

Which is why we were going to Marden again, this time to show a new friend, Iain, the delights of the meadow.

But first, it was to the gym for some phys. And truth be known, my heart wasn't in it, and Jools bailed. But Tuesdays are listening to the new Word in Your Ear podcast, and otherwise I would struggle to make time to hear it.

So after coffee I leave for the gym, and once parked, get down to some serious pedalling. And listening to the pod.

Main subject was the Michael Jackson biopic, of which I have views, as do they, but seems the lacking in the child sex allegations was a settlement with one of the victims that anything to do with that settlement and activity it covered, could not be mentioned. So, the film was partially reshot and the offending scenes cut.

I went to see Jackson in concert on the Bad Tour. And walked out after an hour, having seen enough.

My view is that if the whole story couldn't be told, then maybe the story should have been left unfilmed.

Anyway, I do my session, drive back home for a brew and shower, so to be ready when Iain came at nine, and we could leave.

Sadly, Jools had to wait in for a delivery. Which, did not arrive so she could have come along.

So Iain and I leave, and talk about orchids, of which he is a novice, but knows about plants and grasses.

As we were going past, I call in at Samphire Hoe so he could see the Early spiders by the traffic lights. I explained the insect mimicry.

And we drove on.

We turned off at Leeds, went through the village before turning to go down the escarpment and onto the Weald, passing the pub we would be eating lunch at.

We arrived at the reserve, and had the whole place to ourselves. Although my other friend called Ian would arrive soon. And sadly, the fine weather that was forecasted for the day six weeks ago was very wrong, as it turned out to be cloudy and breezy, but might get out later.

We walked into the reserve, through the first meadow where there are a few orchids, but into the second where there thousands and thousands of them.

I point out the colour variations, the variations in lip shape and pattern, all caused by small genetic changes.

Halfway round, Ian arrived. Hello Ian, this is Iain.

And Ian, where's Iain gone. Only when speaking the second I is silent, but made I laugh.

By the time we walked round the small third meadow and back to the car, it was quarter to opening time, and we had a table booked.

Since eating at the Kings Head in Sutton Valence two weeks back, have found out its just been voted the best pub in Kent, so that's a reason to o back.

I couldn't resist the double smash burger again, while Ian and Iain both had variations on the crispy pork belly.

It was splendid, as was the conversation.

But it was time to go home. So we bid farewell to Ian as he drive back towards Teston, and we turned back up the down to Leeds then to the motorway.

We got home at three, and Iain said goodbye and drove his car back to Deal and home.

And that was that.

By then, of course, the clouds had cleared, then sun come out, but was still cool.

So best have another brew to warm up.

We shared a pizza for supper, then I settled down to watch Southampton play Ipswich, and was a very entertaining 2-2 draw, even if Town did level in the last few minutes.

Monday 27th April 2026

We rejoined English Heritage a couple of years back as I wanted to visit Dover Castle. I justified it by saying we could visit their other locations in the area and thus save money on the annual subscription.

Two years late, and three years of membership payments later, we were to visit Walmer Castle.

It was to be the warmest day of the year, and the castle's gardens at their Spring peak. The bonus was that its just a ten minute drive away.

Again, my brain and body had me awake at just gone five, though I did go back to sleep for an hour, and when I did stir, Jools had fed the cats and was out on a walk.

I made myself a coffee and checked on the world.

We sat on the patio for breakfast, enjoying the warm sun and light winds. The lawnmeadow is about to spring into colour, all over are rosettes and basal leaves of native flowers and plants.

We left for the castle at ten, and arrived shortly after ten fifteen, there were only a few other cars in the car park. We walked over the road and up the drive, showing our membership passes we were allowed in, over the drawbridge spanning the dry moat, and into the inner courtyard.

Being English Heritage, there were lots of plants for sale, at a great inflated price. We walk by and into the castle itself, once the residence of the Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, the most famous of whom was the 1st Duke of Wellington, Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley.

Photography isn't allowed inside, so we walk to the back door and out to the bridge leading over the moat into the gardens.

A left turn brought us to the memorial garden of the Queen Mother, a large reflecting pool and a classical shelter. Usually there are dragonflies around here, but the season is yet young, so there were none to be seen.

Along a woodland walk, where although they looked splendid, the bluebells were the Spanish variety rather than our native English ones.

In the meadow, most of the Snake's Head fritillaries had gone over, but one was worth snapping, as ours at home failed this year, so the old wheelbarrow has now been scrapped.

The to The Broadwalk, laid out after the first world war, huge beds of flowers with large hedges to the rear, now cut in the popular "cloud hedges" style.

Still too early for much colour, but they looked wonderful with the hulk of the castle in the background.

Then to the walled garden, where most colour came from the huge variety of tulips and the fruit tree blossom.

I saw there was a café set up in one of the old greenhouses, so we go over and have an early cream tea: scone, butter, strawberry jam, clotted cream and tea.

We eat sitting outside, me in the shade of a parasol as the day was really heating up.

Our last station was the moat. Never water-filled, it is grassed with large beds around the castle, so we walked down the steep path and round the castle. I chased an Orange tip, but it failed to settle.

Once we were back in the garden, I asked should we go home?

We should.

So, we drive the ten minutes home, nothing much happened, except being in a train of cars following a small red Toyota that travelled no more than 35 mph.

Just as well we were not in a hurry.

And so back home, where I spent the afternoon reading Cameron Crowe's autobiography. Or most of it, sitting at the bottom of the garden in the sun.

He was washed up writing for Rolling Stone at the age of just 21, as the new young guns came through and demanded to write about punk, new wave.

It got chilly by five, so after feeding the cats we had a light supper. Me of some leftover chilli from the fridge, and Jools some more of her high protein breakfast which has been living in the fridge for five days.

It might just feed the five thousand.

The evening had football. Manchester Utd v Brentford. And was a good game, but I was tired and cold, so went to bed at half time with Utd winning 2-0.

Sunday 26th April 2026

As a taste of things to come over the summer, there is just one live football game for me to watch this Sunday, and one that has little resting on it. As Coventry have already won the Championship, while Wrexham need a win to get into the play-offs, but with their Hollywood money, Wrexham are pretty unlovable right now, with their TV series and all that.

Meanwhile, the second FA Cup semi-final is behind a paywall on what used to be TNT Sports, so I will listen to that on the radio, hoping that Leeds can overcome the awful Chelsea Football Club, who this month were found to have made illegal payments to players through most of the last decade, but their titles and trophies remain untouched. Not even an asterix.

We are up just after six, feed the cats, make and drink coffee, then are off to the sports centre for more phys.

I did a little too much on Saturday, so the stiffness in my thighs took fifteen minutes to ease, but then powered on to complete the session.

Then, instead of going home, we drive along the A2 to Barham for some gentle orchiding.

We turn off through Kingston, and park at the bottom of the bridleway. My target was to check up the slope for the colony of Lesser butterflies I thought died out six years ago, but apparently returned last year.

I tell myself the slope will be easy as I am a gym rat now, but the slope is steep, and i have just done a session, so two slight pauses on the way up, brought me to where the track levels out, and so can search where the plants used to be.

Much vegetation has spread, and areas that used to contain dozens of Early purples were now just covered with saplings and Dog's mercury, but in the wood, I find clear ground, and there were Early purples and Common twayblades. Not in huge numbers, but doing OK.

I went deeper, but other than finding more of the same, no Lesser butterflies.

I recheck on the way back to the path, and find one Lesser butterfly on the edge of a pit, spike forming, and another blind rosette.

At least they're clinging on, and there might be more nearby.

We walk back down the slope, then over the road to the beech wood, to check on the woodland Ladies.

Good news is that there were dozens if not a couple of hundred rosettes, many with spikes reaching for the canopy, and one partially in flower.

Also present were many Twayblades and a single Fly. I find last year's desiccated Birds-nest spikes, but no sign of this years.

I walk back to the car, then drive us back to the A2 and home, it was yet only nine in the morning.

Sadly, my left shin is a mess from where I kicked the log on Friday, so I need to rest up to allow it to scab up.

So, I sit around the house the rest of the day. Annoyed at the celebrations in Coventry as Frank Lampard's team play with Wrexham.

So O roast potatoes, then bake steak and stilton pies, steam vegetables, so that once the game ends there is just half an hour's cooking before we sit down to eat, with glasses filled with cheap pink fizz.

After washing up, I put on the radio but find it hard to stay awake. Chelsea 1 up by half time, and Leeds not looking like scoring. So it ends with Chelsea winning to meet Citeh in the final.

Meh.

The evening was filled with playing the Strangler's Rarities LP I bought last week, then New Boots and Panties for Jools, as its one of her favourites.

Finally some #wilflowerhour ing from eight, and that was the weekend done.