Friday 31st January 2025

Friday.

Jools has knacked her shoulder, so no yoga on Friday, nor no work, as Scully is to go into the vets to have her urine monitored.

I had caught her and put her in kitty prison, aka the porch, over Thursday night, and at half eight, Jools took her to Whitfield for a procedure to have her bladder drained.

In the end, she didn't need the procedure, as she did the business in the metal cage and enough for the tests.

Bad news is she has to go back Monday for a full days of glucose monitoring as she eats. But for now she has good heart, kidney and liver function, and not doing bad for nearly 16 years old.

I worked, and I found out that I am to be excused the faff of the annual assessment as it offers no value to someone soon to be leaving. Fine by me.

I clear the last of the travel expenses that the computer keeps finding, and that got approved.

One final meeting at midday, and the week is done.

Jools brought home a snack for lunch, then took me into town dropping me off at the station for the quarter past two train to Canterbury.

It didn't look that cold, so skipped the extra layer, but sitting on a bench on the very open platform 3 for half an hour, left me quite chilled to the bone, so it was a relief when the train came trundling in.

We on the platform piled on, three young men sat behind me, talking at first about the training courses they're on, but soon moving onto drugs and crime. They did drugs but not crime, but listening to them talking about the different types of pot and something called "spice" that knocks you out for eight hours.

They complained about not being able to sleep for days on end, instead playing video games.

They got off at Aylesham, where I heard there is a right crime wave going on with bikes and cars being stolen most nights.

I got off at Canterbury East, my back allowing me to walk down and back up the steps from the subway under the tracks, then across the bridge spanning the inner ring road, which was jammed with traffic, as usual, and the main reason we don't come into the city,

Instead of cutting through St Mary de Castro churchyard, I turned right and went through Dane John Gardens, which was full of fifth formers engaged in some practical biology on park benches, or eating fast food from paper wrappings.

In a flower bed, a Green hellebore could be seen, and a juvenile seagull sat atop of the fountain waiting for food.

Then into the city, heading towards the tower of the Cathedral, getting close enough to grab the "classic" shot looking down the timber-framed buildings on Butchery Lane with the cathedral, all golden bathed in the late afternoon light.

And so on to the Thomas Becket where I was to meet my friend and colleague, Pete.

He was yet to arrive, so I bought myself a pint of Meddlesome Priest and took a seat in the corner to wait.

There's a worse way to spend the afternoon.

Pete arrived, he got the beers in, and the people on the net table had a somewhat lively Egyptian dog, who was rather interested in everything, but more so when there was the chance of a snack to have.

After picking up Scully, Jools fed the cats, then drove over to canterbury to meet us, and once we had drained our forth glasses, we wandered up to Sun Street to the snazzy burger joint for dinner.

I had a triple deck smash burger with candy maple syrup bacon and an alcoholic milkshake, as well as spicy dirty fries.

It wasn't bad, and after four beers, we had the munchies for sure.

It was nearly nine, so we bid Pete farewell, and we walked back to the car along the dark and fast emptying streets of the city, past the New Marlow, all brightly lit up, along the mill race and back to the car.

Jools drove us back, getting home at about half nine.

A good day.