Sunday 15th February 2026

Sunday was a real drag.

It was to rain hard for at least six hours, and rain steadily otherwise all of daylight hours, and there was no football other than games featuring Celtic and Rangers as all cup games were on a channel I don't pay for.

What were we going to do all day?

For a start, off to the gym. Obviously.

Up at six, have coffee and be there for seven, so that once the doors we swung open, we were third and forth people in the studio, and the two recumbent bikes were ours.

We did just over forty minutes, and I upped the level as I had promised, though pedalled slower, so that the calories burned were not that much more than Saturday's.

Back to the car, rushing before the real rain arrived. Back home, put the birdseed out and say, "well, we're not going out again".

And didn't.

We had the radio on all day: Radcliffe and Maconie first, then switching to Huey on his new station from ten, for four hours of classic gentle tunes.

As we were having pie and veg, I peeled the potatoes and let them soak for a couple of hours. Before boiling almost to destruction, then letting them steam dry.

So that to eat at two, they went into roast at quarter past twelve, and were basted every thirty minutes.

Half an hour before the potatoes were done, I put the veg on to steam and the pies in to cook.

And come five past two when we sat down to eat, all was done to a turn. Perfect food for a cold and rainy day outside.

Not much else to report, really. I watched the Rangers v Hearts game on telly, but without sound, so was disconnected from it.

Short cakes and a fresh brew for supper, then to bed at eight, as the rain continued to fall outside.

Saturday 14th February 2026

Saturday.

And it am the weekend, though as we say, every day is the weekend these days.

And being a weekend, there is always phys to start the day.

Jools had managed to book swimming, so I would go to the gym studio, if that's what they're called, alone.

And as we left home, turned down Station Road, it was almost light. And of course that would improve week on week now.

Not only lighter, but clear skies, skies that would remain clear all day. But it was cold. Just two degrees, and with a very keen breeze, meaning the walk from the car to the entrance was done at a quick hobble.

I went upstairs, while Jools went to the changing rooms and pool.

I set up and do my forty minutes, not out of breath at all at the end, so on Sunday it would an increase in level, up to 14.

While Jools finished her session, I went down and back to the car to drive to Tesco to do the weekly shop.

Tesco, even at eight, is fairly empty, and almost a pleasurable experience. I get all what we need, pay, load up the car and am back outside the sports centre for twenty past eight, just ready for Jools to come out and meet me at the kerb.

Back home, while the A2 was quiet, the start of half term meant the A20 into Dover was pretty slow, but no trouble for us.

Back home we unload the car, top up the feeders, put away the shopping, and make brews, so that by nine we sat down and let out a deep breath.

The big news is that we were meeting Sean and Ange for lunch, so a shower, shave and put on some smart clothes, all ready to leave at midday, to drive to the Duke of Yorks, ten down Jubilee Way to the Promenade, where we found a free parking space.

We were having high tea: that is finger sandwiches, pastries, followed by sones with jam and cream, and tea.

Once we had arrived, we were shown to the petal-strewn table (it was Valentine's Day), and were presented with a free glass of prosecco.

We ate and talked for two hours, but the parking was running out, so we agree to leave, with hugs and handshakes.

Outside it was gloriously sunny, but bitterly cold in the wind, especially those us us dressed in a cotton suit and tie.

Ahem.

Back home in time to get changed into our civvies, then on the sofa with Scully to listen to the football. Norwich beating WBA again, but this time in the cup.

I didn't move then as on with the TV as Scotland v England in he rugby, and England expected to win by ten points.

So, of course, they played very poorly, had the same player yellow carded. Twice. And there was no coming back from that.

Scotland played very well, and deserved to win, the crowd singing repeated choruses of "Flower of Scotland".

Friday 13th December 2026

And tat means a lay in, if my brain and body will let me.

They did wake me at five, but I dozed a bit and so woke up as Jools left to go to yoga at six.

So it was get up, get dressed, go downstairs and then put the bins out, before making a coffee. Scully claimed she had not been fed, but I knew she was lying.

So a full morning of podcasts and videos to catch up on, while outside the clouds cleared and we had another sunny day with no rain.

Which was nice.

Jools came home, stayed for an hour before leaving for her craft and chat group at the library, while I stayed home to do more of very little.

When Jools came home just after midday, she said she was hungry, so I cooked dried pasta, warmed up defrosted ragu and once the pasta was cooked al dente, I combined them, and so an easy lunch was served.

Eating so early would mean we would be hungry at tea time, so something would be rustled up.

Jools took my photo albums from the 80s and 90s to the tip. I have digitised them, so they're not lost, but with no one to leave them to, or anyone who knows who or what they're of, why keep them?

Scully and I watched Bangers and Cash on the tellybox all afternoon, while Jools did more crocheting of her colourful cardigan upstairs.

So, supper would be a batch of Norfolk short cakes, a recipe from my maternal grandmother, and always wonderful when they are taken out of the oven.

I had to make my own self-raising flour as we were out, the result was even lighter cakes.

We ate two each along with a fresh brew for supper, before I was triumphant in the music quiz, and now command a nine point lead half way through the month.

A fridge magnet is the prize, so it is the pride of winning at stake!

There was Ipswich losing at Hollywood FC, Wrexham, in the cup to watch through the evening.

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.