Sunday 7th June 2026

Who knew retirement could be so tiring?

Four days orchiding out of the last six days, going to the gym, walking, walking up downs and so on meant that come Sunday morning my legs and glutes said they were tired.

Achy and tired.

We got up at six, having both slept through our alarms, and coming down stairs I said to Jools no gym for me today.

She said her neither.

So that was that.

But with the weather due to cloud over after mid-morning and the breeze get up, I suggested going out and doing some light orchiding after coffee.

Which is what happened.

Out of the house at seven anyway, then out past the port, along Townwall Street and up the A20 to Folkestone, then along the motorway before turning up Stone Street.

Then came the issue of the summer: road closed signs, although no idea where the road was closed from, so how far you could go along.

I took a chance and went along the valley, through the village and then turn down a side lane, and as we turned there was another road closed sign. Maybe they meant it that time?

So that was over five miles where the signs said the road was closed. And wasn't.

So we park on a slight bend, and once I got the camera out it was over the stile, now almost totally hidden by a sapling, the stile itself now getting quite shaky, but we got over safe.

Up the wooded slope and out into open downland, and the down itself to the right.

I knew roughly where the Late Spiders were on the lower flank, but after those at Folkestone dying off, I had no idea what we would find.

I found the first spike about halfway up, then a dozen more. All in perfect condition. I started to take shots of them all, but as we climbed higher, there were more and more spikes, all again in perfect condition.

I saw some obvious hybrids, so snapped them too. Then got out the big lens to get better shots of some of the spikes.

There were too many spikes for the cages, though there was little evidence many had been here, just one spike flattened.

On the way down I took more shots, but it wasn't until I got back home I saw it had two shoulders on each side of the lip: something I had never seen before.

At the top of the down, I sat to admire the view. Over to Ashford on the right, then across to Dungeness and the windfarm on the Marsh just over the border in East Sussex.

Clouds were thickening, and a breeze picking up.

We hurried down the down, through the wood and over the stile. And a short drive away was another smaller site.

I checked the spikes, all were "normal", and no sign of the mono-coloured one that used to show well.

Even here half the spikes were burnt to a crisp, and the rest would soon follow.

We return to the car and after turning round, go back to Stone Street then down to the motorway and home.

For a Sunday its quiet, but then its only half nine, the sensible world is still sleeping, or having breakfast.

Breakfast.

Shall we go to Chaplins for breakfast, I ask.

We shall.

So instead of going up Jubilee Way straight home, we turn down Castle Street,, nab the last parking space, and have taken the last table they had.

The waitress knows our order, but asks anyway. And like magic the other customers melt away, leaving just us.

Our food comes. And is a lot, but we are hungry and we have been a couple of action all morning. We make the food vanish.

A couple off the cruise ship comes in. He's wearing a Seattle Seahawks t shirt. I talk to him for a while, and we point out where the mini bus will pick him from outside.

We go home. Once home I have a shower, then go to the wardrobe to get some clean clothes out. I have come to realise in the last few weeks, that my t shirts are rather like dresses. Huge billowy things, large enough to take two of me.

I look at the last concert t shirt I bought. An optimistic purchase of an XXL t shirt from what turned out to be the last ever Pere Ubu t short. I get it out and try it on.

It fits.

After four years. It feels odd wearing clothes that actually fits, rather than be as my old Dad would have put it, like two penneth of rough-stuff tied up ugly.

We make a brew.

[edit: the pandas meant that my completed text for this was lost from the last update. ]

We relax and listen to the four hours of Huey, now on Virgin Radio. He plays a mix of calm and relaxing, sometimes challenging tunes. Shame about the ads, but we get eight hours of him on Virgin compared to three on BBC before he left.

Lunch was crispy chilli beef, new potatoes fried in butter and some of the leftover smoked garlic focaccia.

We know how to live.

The afternoon was now cool and cloudy, with the threat of rain. So we go nowhere. Jools watched A Very Peculiar Practice on the i player, and I write and watch a video from Japan.

The day fades.

It ends with me posting shots of flowers and orchids for #WildflowerHour, but in four days the World Cup starts, and there will be games at eight every evening. But I won't be watching games in the middle of the night.

Saturday 6th June 2026

A few months ago, my friend Simon told me of an open day at Crown Point TMD in Norwich. Tickets were free, but limited.

I got one, so was set.

Then forgot about it, but then that's what calendars are for: to remind us of things.

As I had to catch the quarter to eight train, not enough time for the gym, so we had a slow start, then rush round getting my shit together, get into the car for Jools to drop me off at Priory Station.

Sixty six quid bought me a return to the Fine City, and a short wait until the train arrived, allowing to get a seat on the left hand side for the hour's run to Stratford.

By the time we left Ashford, the train was busy, but not packed. I guess it was still early.

I walked up from the platforms at Stratfor, as both escalators were out of use, then into Westfield to walk to the regional station, but looking to see if anything could tempt me.

Odd juxtaposition of the many fitness shops and the countless sweet and ice cream place; so something to take off pounds and something to put it back on.

But it was still before nine, so few shops open, not many people about either.

I had half an hour to kill, so walked over the main road to Stratford Market, where there were the usual suspect shops along the walkways, and in the middle, small stalls selling blankets, knickers, exotic fruit and vegetables, and much more beside.

I spend ten minutes looking around, then walk back out, making my way to platform 10 to wait for my train to Norwich.

Before then, trains to Clacton and Southend departed, laden with people heading to the coast, even if the promised rain had begun to fall.

And as a treat, Greater Anglia put a Stanstead unit on the EAML, meaning there was no first class, and the poor guard had to explain to the party of four behind me how to claim a part refund.

For those travelling alone and with no luggage, these are comfortable, and for the most parts, seats have tables and match the large windows, allowing clear views of Essex, Suffolk and Norfolk glide by.

A Mother and her daughter, perhaps eight years old, spent their journey to Colchester discussing characters in Harry Potter, and why they were good, and whether Tinselworm, were it real, be scary or funny.

I got a sandwich and drink from the trolley service, and if I said I wanted a "meal deal" I could have a free chocolate bar.

I had a Twix.

I ate as the train crossed into Suffolk, into the tunnel and emerged at Ipswich.

Its the home of Ipswich Town, apparently.

After a five minute stop, we carried on north to Stowmarket and Diss, and finally into deepest Norfolk to Norwich. Over Trowse Bridge, from where I glimpsed the queue to get into Crown Point, a queue I would soon be joining.

My ticket was for twenty past twelve, meaning I had an hour. Perhaps I could get in early?

So from the station, I walk down Koblenz Avenue, past ASDA, which used to be the old sidings, oil facility for the railways, now long gone. Then past Carrow Road, the home of football, crossing over then taking Kerrison Road, where the first check point was.

No early entries. We were told.

So I am several others had to stand for forty minutes until it was ten past midday, then we were allowed in.

The rain came down harder, so I tried to redouble by steps. By legs grumbled. But they did pick up the pace. Past warehouses and industrial units, made of corrugated asbestos or something, still standing and being used decades on.

Round the corner and down the access road, which dived under the Wensum Bridge, and indeed, just beyond as I saw previously, was the checkpoint and the ticket scanning desk.

I was in. The rain was now coming down quite hard. I had to clean the eyepiece or lens of the big camera every couple of minutes, people hurried to the maintenance facility, the three buildings each having two "roads" which housed two multiple units.

The rails of the roads were raised on pillars, so that it looked like the trains floated, with bright lights illuminating the underneath of the trains.

At the other end there were some locomotives parked up: a 37, an 86, and a class 90 electric. And between was a steam locomotive from the North Norfolk Railway.

Inside there were stalls selling models or stuff for preserved railway societies.

I had been just over half an hour, and I had seen it all. I chatted with the British Transport Police, or some of them, and remarked what a great job they do, little did I know I would see them in action on the late evening train out of London that I shuddered about.

I was to meet friends at a nearby pub. So, I walked back to the entrance and straight up to the bridge that carries the ringroad over the railway, where back in the 1970s there was a corner shop, on the corner, where when we talked to the ground that way from the station, Dad would buy me a pack of Munchies which lasted through most of the game.

Its gone now, of course. Turned into a house, gone the same way as the two pubs: The Clarence Harbour and The Kingsway.

Along the ringroad, heading towards Yarmouth until I came to the pub, The Fat Cat and Canary, where I hoped to have a beer or two, and some lunch.

They had beer. Lots of beers, including Titanic Plum Porter which I made two pints disappear. Sadly, they didn't do food until 5, so I made do with Mini Cheddars and pork scratchings.

Cam arrived, soon followed by David. So we drank and chatted until just before five, when I ordered and ate a burger.

I suddenly realised I could catch an earlier train back to London at five, I had fifteen minutes to get to the station. Four pints of plumb porter meant I didn't walk in a totally straight direction.

I said goodbye to Cam and David, and set off back into the city.

I arrived at the station at two minutes past five, and the train had left. On time.

So I climbed on the train on the next platform, which would leave in half an hour. The only problem was that only the trains that left on the hour stopped at Stratford.

I would try to think of something on the way into London.

What I decided was to go into London and catch the first "fast" train back up the line back to Stratford.

And so I calmed down, and with my woolly head easing, I enjoyed the trip back south through into Suffolk and then Essex, before finally thundering down Brentford Bank into London. Or Brentford.

We whistled through Stratford, then dropped into the station's throat having passed through Bethnal Green.

The train on the next platform left in ten minutes, going to Southend, as long as I didn't fall asleep on the short run back to Stratford.

I didn't, so got off and took the DLR one stop to Stratford International, where I had a fifteen minute wait for the train to Dover.

I got on and took a seat near to the toilet, behind a group of smart gentlemen all wearing the same striped ties.

Military.

The toilet door was locked.

And remained locked.

The guard came round and the group told him that a couple had locked themselves in.

No amount of knocking or shouting would get them to open the door. So, using a tool on his belt, the guard unlocked the door, and then began five minutes of tug of way until the door was forced open.

A young couple was inside, dressed in sports gear and hoodies. She with very expensive looking nails, but trying to hide her face.

One of the gentlemen stood in the doorway so they couldn't shut it, turns out they were Royal Protection Officers, or some of them were, the wrong types to mess with.

At Ashford the British Transport Police came on board and took them away, so that people could use the toilet.

Excitement over, we carried on to Dover where Jools was waiting. I asked her how the concert was at the parish church.

Bugger she said. I forgot.

Time when I got home for a brew, too tired to sit up at watch England on TV.

Friday 5th June 2026

Friday.

And because Thursday and Saturday I was/am going to be busy or otherwise engaged, I have to do phys.

So, set the alarm for five, and for once I was in a deep sleep when the alarm goes off.

I wasn't in the mood for getting up, let alone going to the gym. But there's no shirking in this house.

Jools goes to yoga, so would drop me off at the sports centre on the way into town, so we had to have tested and fed the cats, dressed, have coffee, do the bins and be out by six.

We shared the jobs, and got it done, but even still it was five past when we left.

Jools dropped me off outside, so I went in, climbed the stairs and onto the bike. It didn't feel warm outside, but inside, after five minutes of pedalling, I was getting hot.

I listened to another episode of The Bugle, which lasted just over half an hour, so I was ten minutes shot. But no matter, as I was going to walk along the bus route to Fort Burgoyne, and once I got there, the plan was for Jools to have finished and come pick me up.

I was walking this not just because it was a fine morning and phys, but so I could botanise on the way. At the end of the road, and round to the bus stop, I counted 113 Common Spotted Orchids and two Bee, one of a huge size.

But beyond the shelter, there were no more orchids. But plenty of other plants.

Two buses passed me as I turned onto the bus road, both no fully electric as their power issue had been sorted out and they can now climb up Castle Hill.

A jogger ran by, and a couple of ladies were walking their Labrador. I stopped to take shots of Mallows, Thistles, Bugloss and all manner of other plants, though after a while it was just repeatitive.

I reached the end, so turned right along the back of the Duke of Yorks school, along the top of the downs overlooking Dover and Buckland down below.

I see a sign for a nature reserve I had not known about, and the information sign said there were Early Spiders there to be found.

Next year.

It was half seven, so I texted Jools to let her know where I was. And carried on.

I had almost reached the Castle when the blue Audi hoved into view, so once she stopped I get in and we go home, where it was high time for a brew.

Jools had knit and natter, so I stayed and made focaccia bread for lunch, tucking and folding every half hour or so, and by midday was ready for the final rise, all full of bubbles.

The garden was full of insects in the full sun, and a Painted Lady stayed feeding for over two hours, then along came a Hummingbird hawkmoth, so I snapped them both, rattling off 140 shots in a couple of minutes.

We ate at two, once the bread had risen and sprinkled with salt crystals. We have it with Caprese, made with over ripe tomatoes, and was most splendid.

We just had to stay awake for the rest of the afternoon. Well, we didn't, as we had done all tasks for the day, and could now relax.

Once the focaccia was done rising, I put it in the tin fand applied some jiggle jiggle jiggle and wiggle wiggle wiggle, then baked for twenty five minutes until crispy. Served with Caprese and a bottle of Italian red.

I do badly in the quiz, and again with no football, it was early to bed.

Thursday 4th June 2026

I am a member of the Hardy Orchid Society (HOS), and each year ask for people to lead free site visits where orchids can be found.

I was asked before Christmas if I could step in and lead one in Kent as their usual guy was recovering from an operation. In the event he did recover, but did I have any ideas of places to go other than PGD and Bonsai?

I did.

Several.

So it came to pass that I created a five stop tour, submitted it, and was accepted. And when the tour went live I had to close the list when it reached twenty people!

Over the months I kept those attending up to date with flowering, and what would likely fade before the tour, and what would be OK.

In the last week I supplied addresses, postcodes, W3W codes and grid references for all sites, then on Wednesday snips of maps and GSV showing the places to look for when arriving or turning down a country lane.

I thought I have covered all bases.

Phew!

So the morning arrived, and the weather forecast was changeable, to say the least. We had coffee and breakfast, but skipped the gym as I would be doing plenty of phys through the day.

We met two guys off the train in Folkestone just before eight. They climbed in, and that's when the rain started!

Not just rain. But proper rain that fell from the sky like it was from buckets. Roads turned to rivers as we climbed into the downs.

We turned off down the lane, and half a mile on we came to the "road closed" signs.

The rain was still bouncing down.

We had seen no diversion signs, but looking at the map there seemed to be a way round. All well and good for us, but there was at least ten other cars coming, and the short drive from the meet point to the site was now a four mile diversion down six-foot-sixers. In a rainstorm!

We went to the site, arriving as the clouds cleared, though the path was a bubbling stream. Jools went back to the meeting point, while Jon, David and I went to the Late spider site.

Spikes that were perfect at the weekend were now browning off badly. Of the five spikes found, four were showing signs of turning, while the fifth was perfect.

Jools returned with more people and two more carfulls, Jon and David went with Jools and I showed the next group the orchids.

In the end all saw the orchids in three groups, so much so that we were done in just over an hour, and half an hour ahead of schedule.

From there it was a half hour's drive up to Barham. We stopped off in the post office/village shop for refreshments and an ice cream, sitting outside as more rain clouds gathered.

I began to get calls from the others on the tour that they had arrived at the hard standing, and I wasn't there, so we hightailed it to the Black Robin, turned down the lane and in ten minutes arrived. And soon enough all had arrived, so we could walk into the woods, and I find the area where the Bird's-nests were, calling the group over and advising them where was safe to stand, and where was filled with orchids.

Again, the BNO were going over, all bar a couple of spikes were already in seed, where at the weekend they were fine. I apologise again, but they accept with good grace, and they were thrilled to find a woodland Fly Orchid still in reasonable shape, even if the woodland Lady were just gone to seed and fading fast.

We had over an hour to drive to Monkton. Again not helped by closed roads, but we knew the alternate ways, so we went through Shepherdswell and then onto the Sandwich Road, onto Thanet and to Monkton.

And while on the Sandwich bypass, I pointed out the huge number of Lizard orchid spikes growing just the other side of the crash barriers and on the central reservation.

We had half an hour once arrived at Monkton. So I had a cuppa and a flapjack, sat and talked to those on the trip who had already arrived.

Then at one we met the director, Clive, who welcomed us and outlined what grants from the HOS had allowed the reserve to achieve.

Then we could go on a wander round the reserve, sticking to just the lower level as the rain had made the chalk slippery like ice. But we saw hundred of Man Orchids, some Chalk fragrant, Southern Marsh, Common Spotted, Bee and Twayblades. The tour was very happy, as most had only seen a few Man before in isolated colonies round the country.

A quick drive to Monks Wall. A reserve set beside the Sandwich bypass, though it wasn't the reserve itself we visited, but the verges and central reservations, where dozens of mature Lizard orchid spikes were enjoyed and photographed.

The group was amazed at the number and size, as well as some being pale green or even yellow in colour. Common broomrape was seen, as well as more Bee orchids in flower in the undergrowth.

I was getting tired, but we had one last site: Sandwich Bay. If not for the Lizards but the nationally rare Bedstraw broomrape, though when I checked on Sunday, the there was only two spikes not totally burnt off.

After an ice cream, we walked off across the reserve, through the meadow and the dune slacks, then over the two fairways of the golf course and onto The Strand.

I set off knowing where one of the less burnt spikes would be, while the group dallied. I gave a shout as I found a spike still showing the yellow colour.

But then the group found a newly emerged spike, brought on by the recent rain I would have thought, and they all carried out a sniff check which proved it was indeed clove-centered.

And with that the tour ended, and we walked back to the observatory, said our goodbyes and we all scattered near and far back to our homes or their hotels.

We dropped Jon off in Sandwich, and Jon at Dover Priory. Thankfully traffic was light, it was now cool and windy, but we had had good weather since that early morning downpour.

We go back home, test and feed Scully and the rest of the cats. I rustle up some garlic bread, warm through some defrosted ragu, cook some pasta, and within half an hour of getting in, we were tucking into a fine Italian feast.

It has been quite a few days preparing for the day, but the feedback from the members made it all worth while.

Knackered, we went to be at half eight, while it was still light.

Wednesday 3rd June 2026

Just over a week ago, it was so hot and humid we couldn't sleep, we had to water the garden most nights, and just sitting and thinking brought on a case of the vapours.

Or vapors.

Wednesday was to be very windy, cool and with rain and possible storms.

I had a stiff knee, so was going to take it easy again, but Jools would get up early doors for her class in town.

All the windows and back door was open. I sat there in shorts and t shirt, telling myself it was summer and not cold.

But it was cold.

So the back door was closed, and one by one the windows closed.

It was better. Kinda.

I went along the street to check on the Bee orchid, only to find one of the flowers had been munched by a slug or snail.

I walked back for a brew and breakfast.

Before the rain fell. I went into the back garden to check on the lawnmeadow, and found several Corncockles open, so snapped one of them. I spread seeds and peanuts for the birds on the ground, then retreated back inside the house and made a fresh brew to keep warm.

The day slipped by. At least the morning did.

Outside rain began to fall, and the garden and countryside sighed with relief.

I spent most of the day preparing mails and information for the "ambitious" orchid trip I was leading on Thursday, sending four mails with information, snips of maps and GSV so they would know where to go, without trouble.

Supermarket fish with baby boiled new potatoes, creamed spinach and peas and sweetcorn.

Full of vegetable goodness.

It went down well.

Another night with no football. Well I think Wales was on BBC Wales, but I forgot to check, so we went to bed at half eight with a big day ahead of us.

Season's end. Or is it?

When does the season end?

Well, depends on which league your team is in. It could be the end of April, first week of May or the third week in May. Or your team could reach the play-offs in which the season ends in the last weekend of May. Or if your team gets to a European final, then it could extend into June.

And the whole thing starts again either on the second or third weekend of August.

Except this year, there's a World Cup, and with 48 teams, its got not only more games, but will take longer to finish.

Just for the record, I have no idea when the first game is in the World Cup, or who even is in England's group.

Let me check:

The first game seems to be on the 11th June, and the final is on 19th of July. That is something like six weeks. And for me our road trip begins the day after the final.

Looking back, its been quite the season.

Arsenal became Champions of England for the first time in 22 years. In the end winning the title by seven points after Man City failed to win either of their last two games: drawing one and losing one, while Arseanl won all of their last five.

Manchester United improved on last season's 15th finish by finishing this season 3rd. Villa were forth despite a long and successful European campaign. And Liverpool finished 5th, so qualified for the Champion's League, though sacked manager Arne Slot anyway.

Pep is leaving Manchester City a year before his contract was up, but at United, Ruben Amorim was sacked early in the new year, and Michael Carrick was interim manager at first, but after guiding them to 3rd, has been given a three year contract. He will last until United's next dip in form when the club will panic and sack him.

Bournemouth finished sixth, and so qualified for the Europa League, but newly promoted Sunderland finished seventh and joined them. Bright finisnied eighth and made the Conference.

Chelsea's experiment with signing the world's best young talent for sky high fees on long contracts has been shown to have failed, as their frm tanked in the run-in and so finished tenth. Chelsea sacked manager Enzo Maresca on New Years day after he complained that the clubs functions were stopping him from managing. Liam Rosenior was brought in from Strasbourg, as they're both owned by the same company. (dont ask). And he was sacked on the 22nd April with the team apparently not willing to play for him. Xabi Alonso has been brought in for the new season, and time will tell on how that will go with another manager with firm ideas and tactics, and headstrong egotistical senior players.

It will be nothing if not interesting.

Newcastle finished twelfth, after a good showing in the Champion's Leadue, their squad wasn't good or deep enough to challengs on four fronts. Losing star striker Alexander Isak, who went on strike to force through a £125 million in the last week of the window, leaving the Magpies a striker short.

Before the season started, I thought that the three promoted teams would all go back down, as happened in the two previous season, arguing that no team could be so badly run to be in danger of relegation after three years of over £100 million per annum in TV money. But step forward Wolverhampton Wanderers, West Ham and Tottenham Hotspur. But one of those did survive.

Wolves have been selling their best players each season for a few years, and not really replacing them. That into December, they only had two points and were in danger of becoming the worse ever Premier League team. But they did begin to win, nowhere enough games, and ended the season in 20th and last place with 20 points, having won just three games all season.

Burnley showed that having conceded less than twenty goals in getting promoted in the Championship the previous season was no preparation for a season in the Premier League, and so finished 19th, conceding 75 goals, soring just 38, so winning 4 games and ending with 22 points. They sacked Paul Parker when it was inevitable they were going down, so will rebuild again.

That leaves us with the two London teams, West Ham and Spurs.

Spurs finished 2024-25 season in 17th place, one place above the relegation places, but some 13 points clear of the team below them by 13 points. Senior management must have thought they couldn't be that bad again, could they? Yes they could.

Both teams won ten games each, but for Spurs many of those was in the warm autumn sunshine. They only won three home games all season, one of which was the last game, which ensured their survival. They had an injury crisis for sure, but some teams, like Norwich had worse, and kept winning.

Ange Postecoglou was sacked last summer despite winning a European trophy, and was replaced with Thoma Frank from Brentford, who left the well run west London club for the bin fire that is New White Hart Lane. Frank was sacked in February with the worse win percentage in the club's Premier League history. He was replaced by Igor Tudor, who had saved several Italian clubs from trouble previously. He won only one game in seven games and left by mutual consent after the death of his father. He was replaced by Roberto De Zerbi, who steered them to safety.

West Ham meanwhile went from crisis to crisis. After a poor start, Graham Potter was sacked and replaced by former Nottingham Forest manager, Nuno Espírito Santo. He had been sacked after falling out with Forest's billionaire owner, but took the West Ham job. In the spring there was an improvement in form, and as they and Spurs competed in a death dive to see who would go down, all was going wel until they lost 3-0 against Brentford, and swapped places with Spurs who won their first league game of the year the same day. West Ham were relegated despite winning 39 points, the highest points total a relegated team had achieved in over a decade.

The season was marked by the coming back into fashion of the long throw and goals from corners, which resulted in most games much jostling between defenders and attackers. Also there was a sizeable reduction in goals from open play, making the Premier League much less enjoyable to watch. Whether this was just a blip or something more permanent remains to be seen.

In the Championship, Frank Lampard's Coventry City were promoted as chammpions, despite a major wobble early in 2026. He was made Manager of the year by the LMA because he's Frank Lampard. He's now being tipped to take over another Premier League club, but the Chelsea berth is taken. I have nothing against him, but that whoever he manages becomes "his" club is more than annoying. I can't argue he did a great job building on what Mark Robins had done previously.

Ipswich finsihed second, rather stumbling over the line at the end of the season, though they stuffed Norwich both home and away, which shows nothing lasts forever. MCKenna is being tipped for other clubs too. We shall see.

Hull went up via the play-off, beating Middlesborough after Southampton were kicked out fo "spygate 2". They finished sixth, and only got into the top six on the last day with an undesrved win against Norwich who outplayed them. But they have a resilute attitude which was fine in the second tier, might not work in the Prem.

Norwich had quite the season. Liam Manning was appointed in the summer. A Norfolk boy and Norwich supporter and former season ticket holder, he had done well in getting Bristol City into the play-off in 2025.

But it was not to be.

Under Manning lost all of their first seven games under him, and won their first home point once he was sacked and replaced by Philippe Clement. Under him, players that seemed to not know what footbal was, were coached into a coherent unit, despite a string of injuries, at one time numbering 17 (seventeen), beat that, Spurs. And club captain and centre forward, Josh Sargent, went on strike to force a move back to North America.

Norwich just fell short of a run into the play-offs, which was probably a good thing, but look good for next season, if they can keep hold of Philippe Clement.

Anyway, enjoy the eight days until the start of the World Cup.

Tuesday 2nd June 2026

Someone broke summer.

Only two days into "official" summer, and the wind did blow clouds across the skies and thunder and rain was threatened.

It was Tuesday, so it was off to the gym early on. I do my forty minutes, and it was good as I had the second half of a podcast to listen to, even if was hot and sweaty.

Phew.

This would be my last session until Friday or Saturday, but it always a good feeling to be walking back to the car having done the session, whilst others are walking from their car yet to begin theirs.

Engage smug mode.

Back home at a minute past seven, with the kettle boiling and Jools preparing to make a brew for me.

My right knee ached, this is the one I tore the Cartlidge in a couple of years back, so best take it easy and give it a rest for the rest of the day.

Jools went to her fitness class, and I stayed home to listen to some more pods, watch videos, cool down and in time, have breakfast.

Rain came down, but the storm radar showed no storms within a couple of hundred miles. And that was the situation all day, as most of England saw thunder, we didn't. Even Thanet got one, with rain so heavy trains had to reduce speed due to not being able to see the signals.

I listen to yet more pods upstairs in the back room. Mulder came for some attention, but couldn't get too close, close enough to paw my knee or arms, so just sat and wailed. Then jumped up the back of the chair, and walked onto my shoulder, down my chest and jumped off again.

Then began the wailing again.

It suddenly seems odd to do nothing, after going out for orchids and/or snapping apparently every day for weeks.

Sometimes, we just have to rest.

So, we rest.

Jools watched some sci-fi series about super heroes. I don't watch. Drama still pretty much leaves me cold, so I read or stare out of the windows upstairs. The sun shone late in the afternoon, so I take a snap out of the back room window. And that was that. We have dinner, wash up and that was that. Another day retired. But no stress.