Monday 27th February 2023

The wind has swung round now to the north east, even if were sunny it would be cold. Instead it is cloudy and grey, and after rain during the night, still frozin hailstones lay on the garden beds.

In short, it was cold.

But there was always work to keep me busy.

I say "busy"......

Jools went swimming as usual for a Monday, and I made a second coffee, listened to a podcast and watched dawn creep over the horizon. Reports that many had seen the aurora last night in the news, but news of the possibility only came after we had gone to bed. Maybe better luck for us in the evening?

Anyway.

Work.

Travel expenses, which seem to go on and on as invoices are processed by the credit card company. That takes an hour. And then there is the monthly audit meeting, where we discuss, well, audits.

Then it is ten, and time for breakfast and a cuppa.

I have no idea where the day goes, but whatever it is I do, it takes all day to do. Mum once asked me what it was I did. Still don't know.

Lunch was pancakes, six days too late, but easy to cook and then sprinkle with sugar and sploshed with lemon juice. Sugar and lemon juice is our, in Britain, the traditional filling for pancakes. Growing up near us wear several Dutch families, and they had pancakes more than one day a year, and had fillings like choclate spread.

Its not normal.

The day stretches into the afternoon.

I should go for a walk.

I go outside.

Bugger, its cold. That north-easterly cuts you in half. I decide not to go for a walk.

But I do decide to cut last years growth on the buddleia, bagging the woody stems, leaving just the stump.

Stump.

I was watched by Scully who had been insisting it was dinner time from about two. She hid in the beds to watch me, but I saw her.

Dinner was cheese and crackers followed by toasted and buttered hot-cross buns.

Easter yummyness.

And that was that. Another day done, and nearly into March.

A very special position

The PM said yesterday, and again this morning, in repect of the new agreement between the UK and EU in regards of the NIP, that NI is in a very special position and "incredibly attractive" for investors as it is has access to both GB and EU markets.

By logic, in Brexit I know, that means that the rest of the UK isn't in as good a position, or as attractive to investors as it only has access to the GM market.

As ever, words mean a lot, and in reality NI is a member of the EU SM for some goods, both NI and GB has access to the EU SM and CU.

It is difficult to understand, and Jools gives up on it, but details are important.

The changes were not technical changes just to the NIP but structural changes to the framework of Brexit itself, so all the above means that the Brexit deal as negotiated then sold to the UK population was sub-optimal, and will continue to be so until GB gets the same membership as NI.

Sunak was a member of the Government that negotiated and was elected to implement Johnson's deal, meaning he knew it was shit then, as he went to some lengths yesterday explaining why Johnson's deal was so bad.

Is this the door to the wholesale rejection of Brexit, or something that will quickly be forgotten?

We shall see.

I am fed up, so tired by Brexit, I wish that the Brexiteers and DUP could just accept this as it is now, so we can just get on with our lives and not talk of it again.

Reality is, within six months I think, there will be calls for further changes or maybe before that, calls for Sunak to go, or even a vote of no confidence, as the headbangers will always want more.

This is the first time a PM or Conservative Leader has faced them down, lets see their next move.

Sunday 26th February 2023

Part 2 of the weekend, and what should we do?

Well, lay in bed until seven. But that brings its own problems, as it now starts to get light at about half six, and it seems daylight before seven, but you brain tells you it must be much, much later than that.

The plan, after coffee, fruit, bacon butties and another brew, was to go back to Sandwich and walk the old town walls, or where they were.

We left at ten, driving into Walmer and Deal before heading north again past Worth and into Sandwich.

We parked at the quayside again, put on our winter woolies.

Sandwich used to be an important port, and so had defences intended the repel attacks. Hundreds of years ago, the coast of Kent was very different, with the coast much nearer to the town than it is now. You can Google "ancient Kent coastline" to see how the county would have been very different, with Thanet still being an actual island.

I noticed the walls, or where they used to be on Saturday, so we returned to the town on Sunday, dodging showers and the keen north easterly wind for an hour's amble.

Most of the town gates are lost, only one, Fisher Gate, still stands, and that faces the river near the Barbican and bridge over the Stour.

Past Nightrider Street and past the playground, the path then turns and climbs a grassy embankment, where the walls used to stand. I think for most of it's length, the bank was topped by wooden palisades, long since removed of course, but the bank still exists to the south of the town, while further along the walls would have followed a water-filled ditch and then back to the north of the town and back to the river.

The other side of New Street, Mill Wall changes its name to The Ropewalk, as once the palisades where removed, the long flat area was used for rope making.

We passed mainly just dog walkers, but a few families too. Before turning towards the river, the walls run parallel with the railway, though, sadly, no trains seen.

Once heading back for town, hail began to fall, egged on by the north-easterly, causing us to pull down our woolly hats and button our coats up tighter.

We reached the Richborough road, turned towards the town centre. Did we want a brew?

We did. But that would mean spending money, and we have two holidays to pay for in the next two months, and so need every penny we can save, so walked along Strand Street, back past the Barbican to the car.

I took us home the quick way, via the Eastry by-pass to Whitfield and home.

Then we could have a brew, but nothing to eat as soon it would be lunch/dinner.

I had called in the butcher to get steak, sirloin on the bone, so one of those each, garlic mushrooms and fried potatoes.

I would cook them between the Prem game and the League Cup final at half four.

Spurs beat a very poor Chelsea 2-0.

Then I cooked. The potatoes had been boiled, so just needed to warm up the griddle, warm the fryer and cook the 'shrooms.

All done in 20 minutes, and soon we sat down to eat a fine meal, quite large so we didn't eat for the rest of the day.

And then the football, and the Toon extended they 59 year wait for a trophy, Man Utd easing to a 2-0 win.

By that time it was quarter to seven, so we had a brew and some dark chocolate ginger cookies, and listened to the radio as the weekend seeped away.

NIP: things to remember

The NIP was negotiated by Boris Johnson, it explicitly stated that there would be a regulatory border in the Irish Sea and how that would opperate, including that the UCJ would have some juristiction in NI.

There was plenty of warnings at the time that this was the case.

For all their faults, the DUP realised this, and voted against the deal.

The UK Government decided to push the deal through Parliament with only the slightest debate and oversight, many MPs relyng on the promise of the PM, Johnson, who said there would be no regulatory border in the Irish Sea.

The ERG had something they called "the star chamber" and declared that it had concluded that Johnson's deal, including the NIP was compatible with their demands.

The DUP are a moniroty party in NI politics now, the largest Unionist, but the only one against the NIP and the GFA too. If the DUP gets a say, so should all other Unionist and Republican parties too.

The majority of voters in NI voted to remain in the EU. Brexit happened without their consent.

It also happened with the consent of the NI Assembly which convention in UK politics said it should have.

Whatever is agreed, it will only be a sticking plaster. A temporary solution. As DAG states, the only way to end discussions regarding the NIP and Brexit in general will be if the UK rejoins the EU (or becomes associate members, or actual members of the SM and CU) or there is Irish unification.

If the ERG, and the DUP, accepts this, then in a few months time they will find something about that denamds more negotiation.

Brexit will never get done.

Saturday 25th February 2023

Oh, how we miss the weekends during the week!

here is the age old contradiction in that I spend all week working from home, and Jools spends all week away from home, working. So, come the weekend, I want to go out, she wants to stay in.

Not much planned for this Saturday, other than the usual shopping first thing.

As expected, fresh produce was thin on the ground, though we got raspberries and blueberries for the weekend breakfasts, we didn't need tomatoes, but they did have some

We went home and had breakfast of said fruit followed by fresh croissants.

We went to Canterbury first thing, as Jools needed to buy some stuff for the wild living trip she has booked for the end of next month. So, we headed to the city and found an outdoor sports type shop thing, and so Jools got her new sleeping bag and spork.

Spork.

We quickly escaped the city, back out onto the A2 to Barham before turning off and driving to Wingham, then hence to Preston to the butcher to buy steak for our Sunday lunch.

Only one church planned to be visited, and that was Pugin's church in Ramsgate, now called the Catholic Shrine to St Augustine. Its always open for visitors, so would be an easy tick.

So I thought.

We drove by first, and first indication that something was off was the lack of church open sign, then people milling around in sombre suits. Almost certainly a funeral, so I turned the car round and we drove to Sandwich.

Jools had stopped for breakfast last week when she was off, and I had really fancied a fry up. Sandwich seemed the easiest, with at least two places down Strand Street that did them.

After parking, we walked past the Barbican Toll House and along the street to the first place. They had one table in the corner, so we took that, squeezing in and I ordered a regular breakfast and a pot of rosie.

The place was packed, one table of six cyclists on a 70 mile ride, and half-regretting it in the keen north east wind.

The meal came, and went down a right treat.

We walked back to the car, then drove home, putting the stuff away from the butcher, and as if by magic, it was half two and time for football on the wireless.

Norwich started slowly but overpowered Cardiff 2-0, which was very nice indeed, then watched two games on Sky: Citeh thrashed Bournemouth 1-4, and then Palace hold a poor Liverpool to a 0-0 draw.

By which time it was ten and time for bed.

Phew.

Friday 24th February 2022

Some people will have tougher weeks at work, and in the cosmic scheme of things, sitting in audits and then a training course for four and a half days doesn't sound too bad. But it means hour upon hour of not moving, or not moving far, and having to wear headphones so long your ears actually sweat.

But the end was in sight, and when the training began that morning, we were promised it being over by lunch, midday in Denmark, eleven here in Chez Jelltex.

So, with Jools off early to yoga, I put the bins out, make a fresh coffee and am all ready at quarter to eight.

Can we just get this over with now?

Yes, yes we can.

But first, more role play, more talk about conformity and then the final test, and we were done.

Ten to eleven.

I did a bit of admin, made a call, so was done by ten to twelve.

Time. Time for a walk.

I set out over the fields, over to Fleet House, where just before, the two Shetlands were nibbling at what was left of the grass, though the white one now had a fine plaited mane, though was still mournful.

Down the slope, past the farm and up the down.

I was looking for flowers in bloom. In fact, the only new one for the year was a single weak spike of Hedge Garlic, happy in flower. I was happy to see it.

I was listening to a football podcast, walking up to the new bench, where that podcast finished, so I switched to a music one, and set off along Green Lane, then through the other half of the wood on Windy Ridge. Not much seen again, but a couple of clumps of primroses looking in very rude health.

Through the wood, then down the down to Collingwood and home. 9,000 steps and feeling much better about things, mainly because it was the weekend once again.

I was washing up when Jools returned from work, so I finished, then made a brew, and we chatted through the afternoon until the light began to fade.

Main task was to register and log into a website so we could order two pizzas to be delivered at Jen's house at quarter to seven. That took best part of two hours.

By which time it was time for the music quiz, which I guessed wildly, and was wide of the mark, but its the last quiz of the month.

Off to Whitfield, and so we sat in the living room until the pizzas arrived, at which point we scampered to the kitchen, and ate our fill of pizza and cream cheese filled peppers.

Yummy.

Washing up was quick, and so to cards.

And for a change, yours truly won the last hand and so scooped the kitty of nearly 40 pence.

So we went home happy.

Or I did.

Thursday 23rd February 2023

Day for at the dining room table beckons, and I am having trouble summoning up the enthusiasm to set the office up, knowing I have at least seven hours of this to look forward to.

The reality wasn't quite so bad.

We had gone through most of the theory, and now were onto the practicle parts; creating agendas, and role playing. That would be the rest of the course, and a quick exam at the end.

Jools didn't go swimming again, so we were up at six, and she left at quarter to seven, giving me an hour to faff about before the course began. I drank coffee, had breakfast and listened to a pod cast. Filled up the bird feeders, and all was set, ready to go.

And on we went, taking a break mid-morning, an hour for lunch, and another break for coffee in the afternoon before finishing at four.

I didn't feel tired, and had quite enjoyed the day.

Dinner was to be easy: sausage rolls. Nothing more, nothing less. Both the puff pastry and sausage meat was defrosted, I rolled the patry out, filled with the meat, made into rolls before brishing with egg and baking for just over half an hour. All done for when Jools arrived home.

We had 90 minutes to chill, before we met Bev and Steve outside to drive into Walmer for the pub quiz at The Lighthouse.

Cold nights have returned. I say cold, just above freezing, really. So after finding a place to park, we rush into the venue, find our tables, while Steve gets a round of drinks in paid for out of our winnings from last time we were here.

Each time the rounds are different, not so much music this time. But we did OK first half, second half not so. But there was a round of Dad jokes, where you had to come up with the punchline: What do you get if you drop a piano down a mine? A flat miner.

Or.

What's brown and sticky? A stick.

And eight more like those.

We came 6th, just a couple of points outside the top three which would have come with a cash prize, but also a long way from finishing bottom.

Jools drive us home, back for 11, and another late night for us, the dirty stop outs!

Wednesday 22nd February 2023

I would be spending seven hours of each working day at the dining room table this week. Either in an audit (Monday) or in a training course (4 days). So, this was day three of the week, and the first two days have dragged.

A lot.

Instead of going swimming, Jools laid oin bed as she had been sleeping badly, but I was up at half five as various parts of my body had woken up.

It was dark, with the promise of much cloud and even some drizzle. Not that I would be going out, or if I did, it would be much later in the afternoon.

I did decide to start work at quarter to eight when the course began, as I did nearly ten hours on Tuesday, and my brain melted. That did give me time to have a shave, shower and make myself smell much nicer.

By eck, you look georgous, Pet.

Jools left for work, I played a pod cast, and the morning dawned, getting light now at about half six, the cats scattered and I made a second brew.

So began Wednesday.

We all logged on and so began the day. Much understanding the principles of auditing, although Henrik and I knew this, we had to assess the value of the training and material. So we had to play along, which did mean when we began the role playing sections, that the group with H and I in it, had rather an advantage over the the other two, as we knew the subject.

Backwards.

We had a break of an hour for lunch. I made something, topped up the bird feeders and stretched my legs, all in 50 minutes.

And on into, ans through the afternoon. It began to get dark outside, and the day went on and on.

And just as I thought it was ending, my boss texted me to say we needed to speak. So, it was nearly five by the time I packed the computer away, brain melted again, and just enough time to feed the cats and cook dinner of Moroccan rice, stir fry and crispbakes.

And wine.

Sometimes, squash isn't enough and only wine will do.

This was such a day.

I sat with Scully listening to Citeh play ib Leipzig​. I went to bed with 20 minutes to go, with Citeh one goal up, thinking Leipzig would never score. Thus I missed their equalising goal.

Bad faith

Yesterday it emerged that the party-within-a-party that is the ERG only supported Johnson's Oven Ready Brexit deal after they were promised that the NIP would be undone at a later date.

There is no suggestion this is untrue.

If so, then this is the dictionary definition of bad faith, in signing an international treaty with the intention of never honouring it, or only when it was convenient.

As Chris Grey has pointed out over and over in his Brexit blogs, whatever red meat is fed to the ERG and other Brexiteers to satisfy them, they will always demand more in a few weeks or months.

So, even if Sunak gets his party to back this deal, it will be rejected in a few months and more reneogiations will be demanded, or the NUP Bill brought back to life.

Remember, the only selling point of his election in December 2019 was that we would not have to talk about Brexit again.

It would finally be done.

And yet, here we are.

Tuesday 21st February 2023

How come its only Tuesday?

It must be Wednesday if not Thursday, no?

No.

Not much to say about the day. After waking up, getting up and getting dressed. Jools got ready, I drank coffee. Another coffee. Had breakfast.

And then the training.

Back in the Jug Agane.

The reason I am spending the next four days in training, quality checking the training of one of the world's leading auditing companies.

We are looking at rolling out a huge program of training, and myself and my colleague, Henrik, are to run our auditor's eyes over the training material, it's accuracy and value for the company.

So, seven hours a day, for four days, I would be attached to my computer via headphones taking part in training on the very systems and standards that I use every day.

Which all meant that I had almost no chance to get out to take photos, so have this of the small bed of pink hyacinths beginning to show and smell rather well.

We were two of 18 candidates, taking part. We logged on, tuned in and dropped out.

Or something.

We did have an hour for lunch, but not enough to wake up my brain other to work out what to have for lunch.

I finished at ten past four, my mind melted, and with it getting dark outside, no time really to go for a walk. A lie, clearly, as there was time. I just didn't wanna.

I packed up work things and had a fresh brew, then began to prepare hash for dinner, and it turned out that only wine would do to wash the hash down.

We washed up, made a brew and had chocolate with the coffees, then settle down on the sofa beside Scully to listen to Liverpool v Real and follow Norwich on Twitter against Birmingham.

Norwich won 3-1, so end the night one point outside the play offs, but Liverpool were hopped, 5-2, and lucky it wasn't worse.

Much worse.

I went to bed at ten, with only three more days of training to come.

Oh my.

Playing ketchup

There have been shortages of fresh fruit and vegetables for many months now, but have now gotten so bad that at least two stores are rationing salad items like tomatoes and cucumbers.

The Government says, and the BBC repeats that this is because of unseasonably cold and wet weather through Europe.

Europe, it seems, does not have such shortages.

This is because supplies are coming from Morocco, and although the UK signed a trade deal with Morocco, it is less than one tenth of the value as trade to the EU, and as there is just one border to cross to the EU, and at least two to the UK, priority has been given to exports to the EU.

The UK did plan to have a direct ferry from Morocco to the UK, but this never appeared, in much the same way and circimstances as the ferries to/from Ramsgate didn't happen either.

So, is Brexit the only cause for fruit and vegetable shortages in the UK? No.

Is the the main cause? Yes.

Would removing trade barriers with the EU make things better? Yes.

But, weather.

Monday 20th February 2023

Back to work.

Of course.

I slept through the alarm, and woke up as Jools came back up to get dressed.

The house was cold, but at least the weather was much milder than it could have been. But at least the engineer was due sometime after eight, and hopefully he could fix it.

Jools left, I made coffee and checked on the world: still mad.

I set up the office, so to be ready for the start of an audit I was witnessing, which started at eight in Germany, sadly, seven here in Dover.

I would be rooted to the office chair most of the day.

The engineer would call between eight and one.

He rang at quarter to eight, and arrived at ten past. I told him the problem, he went to work with a full toolbox, and got working.

Was a fault with a relay, or something, but he replaced the heating motor, set it on continuous, and soon began to warm up. Although not that cold, it had seeped into the bricks and took several hours to feel proper warm.

But heating fixed.

I celebrated with crumptets and a huge brew for lunch, then back into the audit, which ended with a good, if not brilliant, result. But good enough.

I celebrated with going out for a walk.

I had a feeling I would find Alexanders in flower up on top of the down beside Station Road. I just knew. So, set off up the hill, and shortly after the last street, beside the horse paddock, two plants with a flower head just about open.

I went to the last of the tracks leading east to Windy Ridge, and three quarters of the way along, a single bright yellow Lesser Celandine shone in the late afternoon sunshine. I have been looking for one in flower for two weeks or more, now.

I took more shots.

From there is was just a stumble down the hill, past the horse paddocks filled with four indifferent horses, up to Collingwood and then back home.

Once home I realised that for the frst walk in ages, I had had no back pain.

A cause for real celebration.

To velebrate I made fritters for our tea.

And we had wine. Or I had wne, Jools had cider.

And did I mention the house was toasty warm?

It was. We celebrated further with an extra square of hazlenut filled choclate with our post-dinner coffee, before I settled down to watch the foty on the tellybox. I bailed at half time with Watford 1-0 up and not very good. So, I missed the goalfest in the second half, which ended 3-2.

We'll burn the house down

I forgot to mention the reason we had the woodsmoke in the house Saturday evening.

Well, after having put wood on the fire for several hours, remember the heating had failed, it was warm and toasty. But I noticed that there was smoke in the living room, and spread through the house.

Jools noticed it, and next morning there was the smell of burnt wood.

I thought it was because I had closed the vent to the chimney.

But no.

When we got the half ton of cut wood, it came in a half wooden pallet, which we put ion its side and covered with a sheet of fibre glass, but where there was a bit of wood sticking out, it created a hole in the fibre glass, so to dry the wood out, we stacked the damp logs in the gap between the fire and chimney breast.

The outside of the woodburner gets warm. Hot even. And it seems that Saturday, so warm that it dried the wood out and then set the logs, or one of them, on fire.

It smoldered.

That's where the smoke came from, and this we discovered as we loaded the fire Sunday afternoon to keep the house warm as the sun set.

The log was cool to the touch, but could have carried on.

We were lucky.

Won't do that again.

Ahem.

Sunday 19th February 2023

Day two of the weekend, and this week called for a haircut.

Our friend, Mary, has had a bad time, she fell ill during a coach trip over Christmas, turned into COVID and then a chest infection. She spent several weeks in a care home, and then had two weeks of care at home. When I mailed her a month ago, she was at her lowest ebb, with a comment of "if I make it".

Well, good news is that she did make it, was back home and ready to meet.

We woke at seven, had coffee. Then breakfst of fruit, and finally second coffee and croissants. Though they had been repackaged, so what I thought were "plain" were almond.

Boo!

But, truth is, they were OK, fulled with almond cream and topped with flaked almonds.

Acceptable.

Seems I had read as far as "all butter croissants", and assumed these were the croissants I was looking for.

But at nine we left home, driving down past the port, along to the start of the A20 and up Shakespeare to Capel, before turning off and driving along past the Battle of Britain memorial, before dropping down into Folkestone.

We parked, then walked up to Rendevous Street, where Mary was making her way down to meet us through a narrow alleyway. Her face lit up when she saw us, as did ours when we saw her. We hugged and swapped greetings.

I took a shot for my picture of the day, and I think you can see the joy in Mary's eyes as she stood beside Jools.

They went to a cafe for a brew and chat, while I walked to the barbers, where I found them open at half nine, and a chair free, so they got shearing straight away.

Half an hour later I was handsome, and half a pound lighter. I pay them, along with a tip, and walk to the Old High Street and Steep Street where they were just finishing their first brews. I joined them and we all had another brew, while catching up on our lost months.

At ten past eleven, we have to say goodbye as our parking was running out. Jools and I walk to the car, then drive home.

And once home, how easy it would have been to sit doing our hobbies, but instead we agree to go for a walk, me with the macro lens and Jools without.

Over the field, where Jools spots a single Sun Spurge spike in flower, then past Fleet House, the now empty pig's copse, down past the farm and up to the bench overlooking Otty Bottom.

What I can say is that my back was 50%, and much less of a struggle to get up and down the hills and slopes. There is a reason for the back pain, as I hoped once the "curse of the Milligans" eased, so would the back pain. Which, thankfully, was the case.

No butterflies seen, and mot many other plants in flower, but by the time we got home, 10,000 steps done and feeling much better about sitting on my backside watching footy and giving another lecture on orchids.

No sooner was I back from Rhodes last years, than I was asked to deliver a talk to the South East Orchid Group on what I had seen there.

My talk wasn't as confiendent, as the species seen was outside my comfort zone, but thanks to our guides ID was if not 100%, then over 90% accurate.

That done, I could sit down to watch the last of the Man Utd game v Leicester, with Utd won 3-0. The Spurs v West Ham, which was closer, but Spurs ran out 2-0 winners, in an entertaining game.

We had chicken tacos for supper, whilst listening to music, before the final act of the weekend was posting shots of flowers seen for #wildflowrhour on Twitter.

Irony overload

Sunak's problems are not getting easier.

This morning, former PM and record breaker, Liz Triss, has suggested an economic NATP be created to challenge China. Maybe someone should tell her about some thing called the European Union?

And, as expected, the previous PM to Truss, serial liar Alexander Boris de Piffel Johnson, in a column in the Sunday Torygraph "warned" Sunak not to ditch the NIP Bill, as some kind of agreement on the NIP being reached with the EU.

Time after time, Remainers have been told by Brexiteers to accept Brexit. In reaity, it is the Brexiteers who have failed to accept Brexit, or the form they negoiated, and want to change it. How much simpler life would be if they could do that, accept it and let business get on with dealing with that, rather than threatening further changes or actions.

Business needs stability to plan with confidence, and Brexit has taken that certainty away.

Finall, as expected, 100 MPs have said to vote aganst any deal in the NIP before having read what the deal is.

So, we shall go round again.

Saturday 18th February 2023

The weekend again.

And if truth be known, we had not recovered from the very last night Thursday and the late nights Wednesday and Friday, which meant a king of lay in until just before seven.

I get up and after getting dressed go straight out to Tesco for fuel and supplies. Jools stayed home to make beds and have a shower.

There are shortages through the store, mostly in fresh produce where tomatoes are hard to come by, but at least more than red peppers were now available. I get the usual stuff and go to pay and load the car and to home.

Straight home for a coffee before we put the shopping away and have fruit.

A couple of hours to lollygagg about before we had appointments. Well, appointment.

Before that there was an hour to fill, so I knew a church that could fill that hole.

Before going to Swingfield, we called in at Capel, mainly because I knew it would be open, but also because it had been nearly 7 years since I was last here.

To Capel, then take a lane out into the countryside, round some sharp corners before taking the second dead end lane on the right, which was caked in mud from the farm halfway along.

And I wanted to make sure I captured the details in the windows.

Most notable feature here, is clearly the stone rood screen, with three lower arches and the one with the cross above, not sure of the screen would have been painted on plaster or on a wooden board in front.

From there, we head across country to Rver where we were to pick Ang (from last week) up to take her to see Swingfield. The lanes meandered across the countryside, past St Radigan's Abbey, or the ruin of, before plunging into Combe Valley, past the old box factory to where she was waiting beside the road.

We had an hour before the appointment, so as Ang liked churches, I took her on a whistle-stop tour of Barfrestone, which she had not heard of.

There is just one place to park in the village, beside the old phone box, then walk up the lane before climbing the steps into the churchyard. It was unlocked, so was able to show Ang the carvings, corbels and details that make this such a special church.

But time was against us, as we had to be in Swingfield in half an hour.

Back to the car, then drive to the A2, down Lydden Hill, then along to Swingfield, where for the first time ever, the gate to the car park was open.

Between Lydden and Hawkinge, there is a large medieval building beside the back road. It is called St John's Commandery, and was built and used by the Knights Hospitallers.

I have been trying to see inside it for 15 years, and now that English Heritage provide a phone number to the keyholder, an appointment to visit can easily be made.

And at one this afternoon, we arrived to find the gate to the small car park open, and once we had parked and walked round, found the door open.

The building was a chapel, then converted to a farm house in the 16th century. Sadly, when it fell under the control of English Heritage, they demolished the farm house, as the policy then was to try to create how the building was when new.

Needless to say, a preserved farmhouse from that period would now be quite the thing. But it is lost.

The east end of the building is still quite church-like, but the western half is pretty much a house, though with no furniture, rickety stairs lead up and along, and small windows pierce the two feet thick walls.

Not quite was I was expecting, but I think all of it to be a church, or all like the east-end, I guess.

The rest of the building is part-house, now empty of all furniture and fittings except some well-used fireplaces.

I took shots, not as many as I had thought, but the job was done, another tick in the box.

Pub lunch?

Outside we met the keyholder who had come to see us, even better for him was the fact we were done by just after one, so he could lock up. But before that, we had a long talk about the building, what has been done and what needs to be done to secure it.

We walk to the car, then drive to the road from Hawkinge, but turn north to Barham, though we stopped at Denton (the home of happiness), where the cats used to to stay when we went on our holibobs.

The Jackdaw is a fine old pub, and used as a location for the film, The Battle of Britain, so had many photos from the filming on the walls.

We took a set in the window, and though Jools and Ang just ordered a starter, I saw steak and stout pie, so ordered that along with a pint of ale.

We were warned of delays due to a parge group that had arrived, but 20 minutes later the food came, all freshly cooked, and mine so hot I could barely eat it at first.

And was delicious too.

We passed on dessert, and with the afternoon now having reached two, we dropped Ang back home and then drove back to Chez Jelltex, where I put the kettle on for a brew before the footy started at three.

Norwich struggled to a 0-0 draw at Wigan, so the new dawn fades. Again.

More football in the evening on the tellybox, Newcastle v Liverpool, which should have been a tight game, but Liverpool found themselves 2-0 and the Newcatle keeper sent off, all in the first twenty minutes.

I watched this, sitting on the sofa with scully in front of the roaring fire, as our heating has failed, so this is the only way to warm the house until a guy comes round on Monday.

By the time we went to bed, the living room was a little smokey, which spread round the house. I thought I had broken the burner, but was much funnier than that, as you wll find out tomorrow.

To bed at half eight, for nine straight hours kip.

I hoped.

Friday 17th February 2023

Who knew having fun was so tiring?

Well, we all did, really.

As we didn't get back home until half midnight, and Jools was up at five, getting ready for her yoga class, but after that she did have the rest of the day off.

I had to work.

"Work"

I heard her get up, but went back to sleep, so only woke as she came back up the stairs to say goodbye as she left. So, I got up and got dressed, went downstairs to make coffee and then try to wake up before the meeting at seven.

Oddly for a Friday I only had one meeting, at seven, and then just "stuff".

Jools had even put the bins out, so not even that to do.

The meeting went well, and once I hung up, time for second coffee and have an orange for breakfast, as I would wait for Jools. But unknown to me, she went to Chaplins for breakfast.

Once she came back and told me that she had eaten, I cook some rice and when that was cooked, heat up a pot of gumbo, added the rice and warm up. Gumbo has a deeper flavour thanks to the roux, and was a struggle. But I like it, although jamalaya isn't so fierce and takes just an hour to cook.

Jools sat on the sofa with Scully.

And fell asleep.

I worked on, taking calls and trying to fix issues. But come half one, I was done too.

We watched a science documentary on TV, two in fact, one on the beginning of the universe and the other, the end. By the time that ended, it was ten to six, time for the music quiz.

I got the answer right, but not in the top ten, but its the taking part and the chatting about stuff before the quiz it what makes it.

Quickly we got on the car to drive to Whitfield for a game of cards and supper.

Supper was chicken dippers and chips. And wine.

And so to cards, with two new packs as well. We are truly spoilt.

Anyway, change of pack did change our luck and Jools won the pot, though Jen won the pot in Queenie.

All done by ten to nine, so Jools drove us home, back in time for the second half of the Championship game, and have a glass of sloe port too.

Thursday 16th February 2023

Day two of three in a row that means an evening out. And today would be the longest trip, as we would be spending the evening in the bright lights of Maidstone.

Before then: work, of course.

But before that, I had to take Jools to work, to save time in the evening for her to come back home, then us go back out past Hythe.

So, after coffee, into the car and into the dark of the early morning. And as ever, the A20 was full of people who speed and drive like idiots heading to work. I would understand it if they would drive crazy to get home. But to get to work?

And on top of that, standards of driving get worse, with no indicating, no lights in fog. And so on. And on.

We stop off at Tesco so Jools could get some lunch, then to the IMperial Hotel on the Strand so Jools could walk for 20 minutes to the factory, while I drive home. Via the garage where I buy a sandwich, a wrap and a large bag of salted pretzels.

As you do.

And a fresh sausage roll from Greggs.

I was hungry and cold all day. I ate the sausage roll in the car whilst driving, the wrap when I got home and then the sanswich at half ten before starting on the pretzels some time about one.

Still cold.

At four I feed the cats, even though they were still all asleep, then set the sat nav for the car park near the theatre, and drive back to Hythe to pick Jools up from work, waiting outside the factory for ten minutes after negotiating the badly parked cars in the estate nearby. Onto the motoway, turn west and head to Ashford, where we could see a jam in the contraflow, so made the decision to turn off and use the A20 instead.

Short cuts make for long delays, precious.

It was dark, drizzling, and progress was slow, but steady. So we turned back onto the motorway as Leeds Services, up to the 229 junction and into town, finding our way through the endless roundabouts and modern one way system.

At least the car park was near the theatre, and on the street outside a host of places to eat. JOols fancied a burger, so we went into Nandos.

Nando's is a Portugues themed place, apparently. I though it Mexican, but makes a big thing about it peri-peri sauce/seasoning, so put it in everything, including probably the coffee. We had never eaten in one, so thought we would give it a try.

It is half term, so there were kids running around, so wouldn't be quiet. We were shown to a table, but had to either use and pay via a QR code, or go to the counter.

No waiter or waitress.

It had the atmosphere of a canteen, and once we had ordered and the food arrived, it was disappointing; over cooked chicken, slaw without dressing and flat soda.

We still had 40 minutes, so went to the pub for a beer, leaving ten minutes before showtime, getting in and taking our front row seats just in time.

Danny Baker is someone we have met before, and I spoke on his radio show once about how our 3rd form class invaded East Germany.

Danny has had quite the life, worked on One Stop Records, made friends with Bowie, Bolan and Elton among others. And getting huge amounts of free vinyl. Then helping write punk fanzine Sniffin Glue, joining the NME and becoming a writer, including interviewing Michael Jackson. Then into TV, becoming famous, then radio, writing.

All without a plan, having left school at 14.

He comes on stage and talks for three hours or more. Ends with a song.

And that was it.

He is either someone you like or loathe, but he is honest, and very good at everything he turned his hand too. Except looking after money.

Back to the car, out of the town along the quiet on way streets and onto the motoway to Dover, with thick fog in Capel and again up by Dover Castle, so thick I could barely see the white lines of the road.

We got home at half twelve. Six hours before we had to get up again.