Monday 17th May 2021

May in Kent is ALWAYS dry.

Always.

Except when it isn't, of course.

Peak Orchid season is the last two weeks of May usually, but this year it is a little behind that. One might say how it was a decade ago. Not much I can do now, I am on me holibobs, and I WIL enjoy myself.

First of all, however, was the delayed scans at the Chaucer Hospital in Canterbury. I had received a call when we were in Canterbury two weeks back, and with work pressure, I asked if it could be early in the moning when I wasn't working.

I got the first appointment of the day: 08:00.

Which meant getting up early, having coffee and breakfast, being out of the house by seven.

Canterbury is a fine city. Not a patch on Norwich, clearly, but is the seat of the Anglican church. It has medieval​ street layout, totally hopeless in the 21st century. It was that last century, so we will do anything to avoid it in the car, unless we can plan our journey well, and approach the city passing near where we wanted to go. And the hospital is at the top of Stone Street, so it is easy enough to get to avoiding jams, and on the way out passing by all the main orchid sites!

I drive along the A2 to Bridge, through the village to Hardres, then up Stone Street, getting there with half an hour to spare. In fact it wasn't open, so I sat in the car and pondered my existence.

At quarter to, I walk to the entrance, pass the temperature test, meaning I was somewhere between just better than dead and no being burned.

I was lead into the room with the scanner, it looked small, in fact it was small. I don't know if we can get your shoulders in it, she said. Hmm.

So, after the check that I had no metal in my body, I had to adopt a "superman" pose, with left arm stretched out over my head, and my right on imobile for the scan.

They inched me into the machine, put on a pair of ear defenders, and started the machine up.

Over 15 minutes, they scanned my shoulder from all angles. My right arm was fine, hand in my pocketses. My left began to ache, went onto pins and needles and into actual pain.

The machine kept on banging and clicking, like a techno track that lost its melody.

All done, so it was off for an x-ray on the shoulder. THe same lady took me in, sixed a plate behind the joint, hid behind a screen and pressed a button. Part of me was bombarded by x-ray particles, the rest wasn't.

All done in 45 minutes.

I walked back to the car and drive back onto Stone Street and into the countryside.

I drove to Yocklett's, parked at the bottom of the hill, as I wanted to check on the "green" Fly, and it was a quicker visit if I started from The Gogway, walked up the kill and to the spot from there.

I might be getting fitter as it seemed to be less of a strain getting to the reserve, then through the gate and up the special path, in the gloom my eyes searched for the sight of luminous green, but saw none. Several spikes had flowered, but all were the "standard" colour and pattern.

Sigh.

I walked to the top of the track, to the meadow and snapped the Lady there, most fully open, or close to it.

Sadly, the bright sunshine of early morning was to give way to cloud and heavy showers in the afternoon, and I wanted to get to Folkestone to check on the Late Spider, which I knew to finally be open.

I took back lanes across two sets of downs and valleys, then into Hawkinge, out the other side and along the edge of Ceasar's Camp to a spot. One space left, so I eased the car in, got the camera and flash out, walked along the path to the fenced off area where, if you looked hard enough, the only such plant in all of the UK was in flower.

It was no more than 6cm tall, but the lip brightly coloured. I rattled off 50 shots, I had to hold the camera out in front to get a large image, so taking lots would mean some (hopefully) would be in focus.

And that was it, really. Cloud had increased. So I decided to head home for lunch.

Rain began to fall.

Then really fall.

By the time I got to the top of JUbilee Way, day had turned to night and the roads to rivers.

I was glad to get back in the village, up Station Road to home.

The rain continued on and off all afternoon. I drink coffee, look at my shots, and stop the cats from fighting.

Its my job.

Jools was also off work, and the rain meant she couldn't work in the garden, so she read.

Later, she went to see Mike and Jane, as Jane's daughter had given birth to a daughter, and we had gifts.

All is well with mother and child.

Rain came down harder on her way home, where she called in for fish and chips for our supper, cod and chips.

It was fine. And meant I did not have to cook.

For the rest of the day, I watched Championship play off games, secure in the knowledge we were better than that and were already up, whilst four good teams played a battle royale to the death, with just one joining us and Watford.

High in tension, low in quality. Both ended 1-0. All to play for in the second legs.