Wednesday 18 September 2019

Tuesday 17th September 2019

On a summer morning some 29 years ago, I joined the RAF, taking the Queen's shilling and a travel warrant to get me to Lincoln the next day, where the rest of my life would start.

I am 54 years old now, and served just 15 years, so military service took, what 14/54th of my life. Unlike those who joined from school and stayed on for 22 years or more, its not how I define my life.

I have no idea how I define my life to be honest; making it up as I go along?

That sounds right.

But, that day was the point in which my life changed. There was the 25 years that came before it, and the rest which came after. I made mistakes, did some dumb and amazing things, but it brought me here. I regret nothing.

The RAF changed me as a person, helped me be the bolshie twat I am now. Life would have so much duller at the chicken factory I would not be into my 37th year there.....

So there!

And here I am, working from our dining room table in the Garden of England, a long stone's throw from the white cliffs, improving the world one turbine at a time.

As you do.

It is so dark in the mornings now, too dark even at quarter to six not to have a light on to boil the kettle. But the rain of Monday has passed, and looks like it might be a fine day, though I will be slaving over a hot keyboard.

I had planned to do another session on the cross trainer, but after girding my loins for the task, I find the i pod battery was flat. Now, it has been pointed out I could have listened to the radio, but really, its not the same.

So I put it on charge and go to have an early breakfast instead, after filling up the bird feeders.

And I am ready for the working day, exactly ten minutes late: points failure at Loughborough Junction. That's my excuse.

And so on tot he day, with the usual checking and dealing with mails, fending calls, and all under control.

The cats are fed, the birds are singing, and I am listening to podcasts whilst working. So all is well with the world.

But, I decide to have fried eggs on toast for lunch. Early lunch. Ad in the afternoon I get a sore through. But different. Most like my throat was closing up. Swallowing and eating was getting difficult. But I soldier on.

T make matters worse we were to have carbonara for dinner, so more eggs, but these without runny yolks of course.

Two hundred and sixty Anyway, I cook it, eat all of it bar one slice of garlic bread. But as the evening went on my throat eased. So, may an allergy attack? I will reduce my egg intake down.

I listen to the CL games on the radio, Jools goes to watch the climax of Killing Eve. And another day is over.

Phew.

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