Thursday 9th July 2026

Thursday again.

And temperatures were to be near thirty again, though for us on the cliffs there would be a little breeze, so be cooler.

As usual, we were up at ten past five, fed the cats, got dressed, had coffee, and were out of the house by ten to six to be at the gym, though as ever it was the pool that would be where most people waiting would be going.

Up the stairs and on the bike. I set up the latest Sound of Football pod, and got to work.

I did 35 minutes. I was hot enough, and near enough to my target.

Outside we pause to cool down, then back to the car to drive down to the seafront so Jools could go swimming, and me paddle for the benefit of my legs.

Before leaving home I noticed an accident on Townwall Street, but thought it would be cleared by the time it was time to return home.

The sea was cold and wet. And the shingle got under my feet. I didn't stay in long.

We drove down Union Street, and at the traffic lights there was a policeman directing traffic, making port-bound traffic go through red lights and onto the wrong side of the dual-carriageway.

We had to wait ten minutes before we were allowed to turn right, and as we went past the accident scene, all debris had been cleared up, but there was a forensics van with its doors open.

Later it emerged that a woman pedestrian had been struck by a truck at twenty to four, and had been airlifted to London with life-threatening injuries.

We made it home safe, if a little late.

We both had showers and changed, and had the rest of the day to ourselves. For me there was a long mountain stage in the Pyrenees, starting before midday, so I made sure I was ready.

We can have both the back and front doors open, so this creates a breeze, though by four in the afternoon, the sun has swung to the west so that it shines in the living room window and turns sitting on the sofa into being like being in an oven.

I close the curtains.

Meanwhile, Le Tour has cycled to the foothills of the Pyrenees and began to climb. The big climb was the Col du Tourmalet, which looked like cycling up a wall.

In extreme heat, the peloton was shattered when Tadej Pogačar took to the front and with Jonas Vingegaard in his wake. But despite being in the form of his live, Vingegaard slipped further back on the final 5km, then further again on the descent, and again on the climb to the finish.

Pogačar is a machine!

A four hour gap to the football, where France took on Morocco, and won 2-0 without really breaking sweat, so make it to the semi-finals.

Wednesday 8th July 2026

And again, we have reached the middle of the week.

Is it me or do the weeks roll round quicker and quicker, or is it just because we're retired?

On December 31st I will have completed my picture a day project for an entire decade, which will be some 3,650 or so days.

Quite the feat.

Several times this month we have remarked to each other, in a sarcastic manner, how shit retirement is.

It isn't, obviously.

In the past, I would take my laptop onto the sofa to watch the Le Tour live feed, pressing a random key to make it look like I was still online.

Now I can take up my seat ten minutes before the grande depart, and watch the whole race, only getting up to pull a cold beer from the fridge.

Life is, indeed, grand.

Wednesday started with a check on the moth trap, and was delighted to find two Elephant hawk-moths and a selection of the usual suspects, but best was a fine Scarlet tiger.

Having gone on walks the last two days, and with temperature rising and winds falling, I decided against it.

So, after breakfast and a brew, and with Jools in town on one of her keep fit classes, I went down to the shelter with a fresh brew and sat in the shade to admire the vista up to Chez Jelltex.

I sat there for some time. Jools returned, and came and joined me with a fresh brew in hand and with ice creams.

Pistachio ice creams.

As my Old Dad would have said: "Where do you thin you are, on your Father's yacht?" Still not sure what he meant, but it seems fitting.

Le Grande depart was just after one, so enough time to make lunch: garlic breaded chicken, boiled Jersey Royals, and creamed spinach. But no beer, just iced squash.

And then to the cycling, which was a standard "rest" day, in which the peloton cruised over the rolling farmland of Nouvelle-Aquitaine, the last piece of France tat was under English rule, and home of Elanor.

I was worn out just watching them, and the poor guy, Baptiste Veistroffer, who was ordered to make a break at the start and no one joined him, so was on his own. On his own for nearly 160Km until the remainder of the peloton caught him.

And for the evening, there was NO FOOTBALL! Just for one day, so we listened to music, and simmered in the evening humidity until it was gone eight and seemed late enough to go to bed.

Would sleep come quickly?

A resignation matter

Farage: (n): a large stool. As in, I needed to flush the toilet twice to get rid of that Farage.

Yesterday, Nigel Farage resigned as MP for Clacton.

His record of attending Parliament and voting is very poor indeed, I think at one point he had missed 76 consecutive votes in the House. And he has failed to hold any surgeries in Clacton for his constituents.

Farage is facing multiple investigations from Parliament and banks regarding gifts of millions of pounds from various people outside the UK.

Gifts he received in the year before he became an MP had to be declared. He failed to declare them.

He received £5 million from a crypto-billionaire, for reasons over time have changed.

Not only has he resigned, but intends to stand in the byelection that would trigger, and an anti-establishment ticket. Only all the other main parties have said they will not stand in the byelection, and so far the only other candidate it would seem is Count Binface.

It would seem that the ploy was to avoid scrutiny for the gifts received, but the inquiry would only be paused until he was an MP again.

So all rather pointless.

And on top of that, his electorate don't seem too happy with his performance as their MP.

Stange that.

Tuesday 6th July 2026

Tuesday.

Did I mention it was hot?

Well, it is hot.

And humid, and the breeze we normally enjoy here on the downs near the sea, fell to almost nothing.

It was going to be a long hot day.

And due to the humid night and my stupid brain, I was awake at half three, and got up at four to sit outside in the cool early morning light to enjoy the view from the top patio.

At half four I fed the cats as well as testing Scully, then put the kettle on so that when Jools got up she could have a tea.

So by ten past six, I was dressed, had drunk my coffee and was ready for the gym, only there was no point in leaving until ten to six.

As usual, the pool was crazy busy, but we gym rats headed up the stairs, and I put on the latest A Word in Your Ear pod, and began to peddle.

It was hot and sweaty, but I did 38 minutes, which is close enough I decided, so bin the session, then go to cool down outside. But the sun was already very warm and strong.

Back home at seven so that Jools could have the car for most of the day, leaving me home to get my act together.

Jools made me a brew, which I drank outside on the patio again, then once she had left I had a shave and shower, then dressed so I could wear another new t shirt: a B52s tour shirt from the gig we went to last month.

Did I mention it was hot?

Against my better judgement, I went for a walk. Taking my camera, I walked to the end of the road and went up the down to the first track before turning along the track between the fields, past the war memorial.

There were Gatekeepers galore, but all bar one wouldn't settle, and the one that did had its wings closed, but I got the shot anyway.

The track was so overgrown that I could hardly get along, and slipped into the ruts which were hidden from view.

I made it to the crossroads of the path leading down from Windy ridge. I should have turned left to go up the hill, but turned right towards Collingwood and home.

It was just too darned hot.

Along the end of the road I snapped the new electric fence and the one of the three new five bar gates, the walk to home where I treated myself to a glass of squash, and sit down in the cool shade of the living room.

There was a long day in Le Tour, with Le Grande Depart at ten past eleven, so I was on the sofa in plenty of time to enjoy stage 5.

It was 42 degrees in southern France, and keeping cool standing still would have been hard enough, but the peloton did it whilst cycling at nearly 50km/h for several hours. Though needed lots of cold water from their support vehicles and blocks of ice to put down their shirts.

Jools cooked dinner: breaded chicken with salad, of which just the chicken needed cooking. This was because straight after the Tour, there was football: Argentina v Egypt.

And Egypt game Argentina a heck of a game, and had a goal wrongly chalked off for a foul 17 seconds before scoring, while Argentina wone it at the death when a similar foul was not punished and the goal stood.

Must have Messi in the quarter finals, obvs.

Revolver (1966)

As I said before, the Beatles documentary, Anthology, skipped over both Rubber Soul and this to move onto Sgt Pepper, odd for two albums that bridge, if you like, their early period, with their latter more experimental one.

Rubber Soul was, by my ears, their best album thus far, and so I venture onto Revolver expecting it to shoot for the stars.

The record has artwork by close friend, Klaus Voormann, known since their time in Hamburg. It contains some of their best known songs, and some of their most inventive.

Let's dive in:

Side 1.

1. "Taxman"
2. "Eleanor Rigby"
3. "I'm Only Sleeping"
4. "Love You To"
5. "Here, There and Everywhere"
6. "Yellow Submarine"
7. "She Said She Said"

Side 2.

1. "Good Day Sunshine"
2. "And Your Bird Can Sing"
3. "For No One"
4. "Doctor Robert"
5. "I Want to Tell You"
6. "Got to Get You into My Life"
7. "Tomorrow Never Knows"

All tracks writtem by Lennon/McCartney except "I Want to Tell Yoy" and "Love to You", which were by Harrsion.

"Taxman" was written after the members of the band were subjected to something like 97% supertax on their earnings. One for you and nineteen for me, references this. It has one of the most iconic guitar riffs, stolen by The Jam decades later on "Start". The song mentions Mr Wilson and Mr Heath, two UK Prime Ministers responsible for the tax on their earnings. It is an incredible piece of work, and with a message too. They'd have to go some to top that, mind.

"Eleanor Rigby" is next, and as a pop song, is remarkable. Back only by a string quarter, Paul mulls over lonliness. It is a truly remarkable song, and one of their very best. Nothing much like it before.

"I'm Only Sleeping" is the longest track on the labum, clocking in at 3:03, and features some backward tape loops which must have sounded astonishing when heard by fans for the first time. John sings, and the song has a false ending, starts again with the backward loops stronger. Nothing like this before either, but a very different kind of song. Three very different tunes to open the album, each one groundbreaking.

Sitar. Sitar on Sitar. Rock beat. Vocals. Double speed to outro. The George penned and playd "Love You To" carries on further the Eastern influence heard on Rubber Soul. A superb vison realised, and only The Beatles at the time could have come up with it. Four very different tracks then open the album!

Innovation takes a breather on "Here, There and Everywhere", with Paul on vocals, with a simple beat keeping time, and harmonised vocals at the end. It's a piece of pop perfection.

I have mixed feelings about "Yellow Submarine". It featured almost weekly on Junior Choice, and so I associate it as a children's song. It features Ringo on vocals, and had a bass drum keeping time, and all over it are various song effects, which make it a riot. On the first hearing. As a piece of work, it is remarkable, though not to everyone's taste. It was recorded intially as a children's song, so in that it succeeded.

"She Said She Said" closes side 1, and is pretty much the 60s wrapped up in a song. But in a good way. Backwards loops, I think sitar too, it features John on vocals and would be the outstanding track on the side, were it not for the six that preceeded it.

Side 2 kicks off with "Good Day Sunshine" which features George Martin on honky tonk piano, and is another well-known song from their canon, and yet delights on this rehearing. A light touch to start and with superb harmies too, last little of two minutes and is gone.

Even shorter by six whole seconds is "And Your Bird Can Sing" with John on lead vocals. It shimmers along and is glorious in that. Words of praise no longer have meaning, this is just the very best work that the very best band ever did. Dazzles with brilliance.

There's a wonderful French Horn playing counterpoint to Pau's vocals on "For No One", while the rest of the band add percussion and strumming. So simple, and yet so effective. Paul's vocal is so warm and pleasing. That he suffered so much from "fans" after the band broke up and he formed Wings with Linda.

"Dr. Robert" is the 11th track, and acts as a bridge, at least to my ears, of their previous pop phase, and this their latter psychedelic one. Again, way ahead of its time, and yet is "just" another track on Revolver. Amazing.

"I Want to Tell You" you expect to be sitar laden, as it is penned and sung by George, but has a guitar instead, through it shimmers with eastern magic. Layered backing vocals, isn't the worse track on the record, though there are no bad tracks on Reveolver to be honest.

Two bangers close out the record: first up is "Got to Get You into My Life", which has 60s op written all over it, but invented here. Then morphs into a shouted vocal with brass backing and lots of dirty guitars. Hearing it again in contex with the previous twelve tracks show how strong and effortless they make it all seem.

Throw everything that's gone before into a great big pop pot, stir, add some drugs and stunning studio techniques and bingo, the most breathtaking track thus far in their body of work. Much copied, but never bettered, "Tomorrow Never Knows" was their absolute peak. Except for tracks that were better like Penny Lane et al.

I find it hard to believe there is a better album than this, andf yet to come is Sgt. Pepper. We shall see. We leave The Beatles for a couple of months, having retired from playing live, sitting on top of the world they created.

Monday 6th July 2026

Another heatwave is heading our way, apparently.

At night, already, it is warm and humid, and had to get to sleep.

Come Monday morning, I was up and dressed quick, so to check the moth trap I had left out overnight, and was rewarded with the first hawk-moth species of the year, An Elephant hawk-moth, as well as some other photogenic ones, including a Swallow-tailed moth, which was rather handsome.

They all got snapped.

Jools had a busy day planned, starting with an early morning walk, at a time when it was cool, but I was barely capable of stringing two words together. So she went alone.

I'll go later, I lied.

Jools did a tip run, went to Tesco, then took a friend to Canterbury to sort her computer problems out.

So I was home alone for about six hours.

So, I went for a walk.

My back wasn't feeling too good, but good enough to walk over the fields to Fleet House and the top of Norway Grove.

I was hunting butterflies and wild flowers, but the herbicide the famer has used now the lucerne field has wheat means that the wild flowers of the last two years are now gone.

No flowers means no butterflies.

The lucerne, however, has taken over the path, making it quite hard to find the path between the bushes.

I walked to the small grassed area at Fleet house, which is the graveyard of farm equipment, as between the rusting skeletons, wild flowers grow, and butterflies are in abundance.

The farmer has paddocked the field into which he hoped to have a five pitch caravan park, there's an electric fence now behind the hedge, and herbicide has been sprayed to limit natural plant growth. Two sad looking horses and a single sheep munch on the lucerne that's left.

I snap a few, and the flowers before walking back over the fields, as it was now mid-morning and getting very warm indeed.

Also, at ten past eleven, the Tour was to start, so back in time for that and sit down on the sofa with Poppy on the footstool, sleeping the hot day away.

Which was very wise.

For the first proper road stage, it turned into a mad GC race, with the leading breakaway featuring all the favourites, and on the final 500m, Tadej Pogačar broke from the pack to win the stage and take the yellow jersey from Jonas Vingegaard after they both were tied on identical times.

The evening entertainment was the Spain v Portugal last 16 game, and the question was, would Portugal be as bad as feared with Ronaldo playing?

The answer was "yes". A poor game won by Spain in injury time, but Ronaldo hardly touched the ball, and yet played the entire game.

Still, got to laugh.

Sunday 5th July 2026

It is the seventh day of the week, and on that day Jelltex shall rest.

Other than go to the gym to do another session, the 4th this week, and so back to what is considered normal in Chez Jelltex.

There are several games in the World Cup each day, but most are late evening or in the middle of the night. On this day, England were due to play Mexico in the Azteca, where, almost forty years ago, Maradona punched a cross into the goal. Then ran through the whole English defence for his second.

Kick off was due to be 01:00 Monday morning, and I thought long and hard, but decided to go to bed after the early game, Norway v Brasil.

But first, after coffee, there was phys.

I had forty minutes to listen to the PU pod, and did 37 minutes, and when Radio Radio by Elvis Costello came on, I knew I had done enough.

Back home via the Co-Op in Whitfield for some cottage cheese for Jools' breakfast.

And still home for ten past eight, with a whole day to fill.

Thankfully there is Le Tour, which was due to start just after midday, so that was sorted.

Once back home, I saw that there was a wee beastie where I was to leave my towel to dry: a Cricket, so I snapped it with both the phone and big camera, now that the lens is working fine again.

And then a shower, and a fresh change of clothes, all to be ready for the pre-show of Le Tour, and then four hours of GC action in Stage 2 of the Tour in Spain.

I struggle to stay awake, as cyclists battle conditions and geography to see who wins. It all came down to three circuits of the 1992 Olympic Park, and Jonas is triumphant once again.

I was going to watch all of Norway v Brasil, but was 0-0 at half time, half nine, and I thought I would go to bed as although it was tense, not heavy with goalmouth action.

This would also mean missing England play Mexico which was due to kick off at one, but was delayed, as predicted, by over an hour.