Thursday 20th November 2025

I am home alone until Friday afternoon, and so far, I have not burned the house down.

But what it does me, I am on Scully duty first thing, before feeding the other cats and making coffee.

So, up at half five, dressed and downstairs to test Scully, inject her with insulin, feed her, before feeding the other three hungry cats.

I make a coffee and check on the world, before I am off to the gym at dawn.

I go at dawn as the gym is fairly empty, and means there is no excuse as there would be had I left it to later.

It was the second frost of the week, harsher than Tuesday, and me in my shorts feel it especially sharp as I scamper across the car park to the entrance.

I check in and go upstairs, then to my bike of choice, select The Sound of Football podcast to listen to, and then to ride round Lisbon for forty minutes.

Time passes and I am done, so downstairs, double-checking I have my phone, wallet and earphones with me, as in the last month I have left at least one of them behind.

The other reason for being so early is that the roads are not jammed on the way back, about ten past seven. Half an hour later and the A2 would be jammed to Whitfield.

Or would have been.

But there are roadworks on Castle Hill beside the Duke of Yorks school, and the lights meant the queue backed up, so I drove along the Sandwich Road before turning off at Waldershare and heading out cross-country to West and then East Langdon and onto the Deal Road and home.

It was a fine and sunny day. But bitterly cold.

I filled the feeders, then went inside for breakfast before thinking about cutting the old Goldenrod stalks beside the drive.

I think about it until its close to lunch, so have the other two rolls and a brew, before tightening my belt and pulling up my trousers and going outside with the secateurs.

Half an hour later and the job done, all clippings in the brown bin, and the bin left at the top of the drive for collection in the morning.

But out of the shade of the house, the wind cut though me like knife through butter, so went inside to sit beside Scully and binge watch Gone Fishing all afternoon.

Darkness fell early, and the wind continued to blow.

I warmed up some ragu, cooked the rest of the pasta, so after testing, jabbing and feeding Scully at half five, I ate like an Italian King. Or peasant.

And drank a bottle of Fuller's Vintage Ale, which was superb.

Jools called in the evening, she's had a fine time without me, but will be home Friday afternoon.

I watch Peterborough beat table-topping Stockport before heading to bed after a wee glass of whiskey.

That's grand.