Friday 27th February 2026

And so the day of much activity arrived.

It is Friday, so Jools was up and about, feeding the cats and getting ready for yoga, while I slept.

Until Mulder and Poppy were fighting under and on the bed, thus waking me up.

So, may as well get up.

The Springlike weather is gone, though still mild, but drizzle was already falling, and would get steadier through the morning.

Bins were put out, feeders topped up. And Jools was gone to do some downard facing cats. Or something.

The cats had no idea what was to come, so went to sleep in their various favourite places. I had a tea and breakfast, while sunrise happened outside, though the red sun was soon lost in thick clouds. Behind thick clouds.

Jools came home at twenty past eight, at the same time as Craig, Jon and the plumber.

They laid dust sheets, looked at what was to be done, and started ripping stuff out.

Banging, drilling, sanding continued. The cats, alarmed, ran outside, where the dreich greeted them. Came back in, went out, back in.

After a couple of hours, they got used to it, and so the youngest sheltered under the bed, Scully slept on the sofa, and Mulder wandered around demanding attention.

The flooring was glued down, and took some removing, but soon after lunchtime, the shower, sink, toilet, radiator, and all the tiles were out and in the back of the van, and then came the job of trying to make sense of the pipework.

That took a couple of hours, but by three all the prep work was done, and so with kids to collect from school, they left and silence returned to the house.

But for the cats, the worse was yet to come, as at half four the round up would begin, as they were going to the cattery. If we could catch all four of them, and put them in their boxes.

We had 90 calm minutes, and then the round up began.

Block off the cat flat. Close the doors to the kitchen, office, small bedroom. And at least with the bathroom now a bare room, there was no hiding place for Cleo and Poppy. Mulder and Scully were fed, then caged and the cages put in the car.

Cleo first, cornered in the bathroom, she was grabbed and caged. And finally, the same for Poppy. All in ten minutes.

We load the car, so Jools could take them to Whitfield, and I stay home to cook dinner of steak pie, steamed veggies, roast potatoes and gravy.

All done after I had crashed and burned out of the quiz, so we could sit down and eat, drink and be merry. As we are on holiday.

Thursday 26th February 2026

Thursday.

The week is flying past, and we have loads to do.

But first there is always the gym.

Truth be told, our hearts weren't in it, and we were late up, late feeding the cats and late finishing our coffees. But out of the house just before six, at the sports centre at ten past, then up to the gym finding both bikes, free, we got on and started to peddle. Me listening to podcasts, and Jools watching more of The Handmaiden's Tale.

Being a warm morning, we were soon glowing well, and it would have been easy to bail. We looked at each other a couple of times to see if either of us would, but we kept on going.

And once we were done, wiped the machines down, and we were walking back to the car, passing people just arriving, we are always smug to think we had ours in the bag.

We called into B&Q for some earplugs in case it was noisy at the hotel, then back home for a brew, fill the feeders and have a brew.

The day was cloudy, and the breeze had picked up, so that it felt colder than it was, certainly colder than the glorious spring day we had on Wednesday, when I saw my first two butterflies of the season: a Brimstone and a Peacock.

We dismantled the cube from the bathroom, then took the pieces to the tip. The bits only just fitted the car, and the shelves were just about resting on the rear screen, meaning acceleration had to be slow, as well as braking so it didn't fly through the windscreen.

That done it was back home, and the rest of the day was ours.

We had toasted hot cross buns for lunch, so I could cook breaded cod, dahl and sprouts cooked in guanciale fat for supper later.

Scully and I watched TV, She was very happy with that, softly snoring all afternoon, but happy when I got up that meant it might be dinner time.

No football on TV for the evening, so early to bed, all ready for the big day in the morning.

Work starts on the new bathroom, with Craig coming round to rip the old one out, so I went round to take shots of how it is. And when we come back, there'll be a new one in its place.

on A.I.

Over the last week or so, I have listened to a three part BBC series on AI, as well as us both attending a lecture last Friday on the subject.

Here are some thoughts:

The top seven companies in A.I: Google, Microsft and so on, have invested $20 trillion in the technoogy.On top of that, tere are 500 A.I. tech start ups valued at or than $1 billion each.

That is a lot of money.

The money either comes from internally in the "big seven", or in the 500, from venture capatalists.

Its still a lot of money.

The question, as far as I can see, is how is anyone going to make A.I. as it is at the moment, turn a proofit on the investment?

The big Large Langauage Models (LLMs), like Chat GBT does requests through it's website, free of charge, as far as I can see.

LLMs operate, generally, in two phases: learning and operational. And in the learning phase, scrape data to "learn". This comes from mostly the internet, where it scrapes copyrighted and uncopyrighted information. LLMs have said that if they had to pay the legally required costs for use of copyrighted material, their business model doesn't work, so have not paid, they just stole.

If obeying the law makes your business model fail, then you don't have a business model.

There are cirrently a number of class actions regarding copyright theft going through courts around the world, and it seems inevitable that the copyright holders will win, and that some sort of payment will have to be forthcoming.

Copyright costs are on top of the figures already mentioned above ($20 trillion and $500 billion). Huge sums that will have to be factored in in being able to turn a profit.

Not only that, using one of the A.I. tools for tasks, used about 400% more energy than non-AI, and data centres require power, land, and water to cool the banks of processors, in anticipation for the work it is expected AI to do. And that by the time the capacity currently being constructed is needed, it will probably be out of date.

A.I. has all the features of an economic bubble, promising huge returns on investments, and yet no clear explaination on how such returns will occur, or in what way it will make life better.

For the moment, A.I. seems to be stealing the work of creatives, and passing that theft to already rich companies, so they don't have to pay writes, painters, photographers and so on.

The question is either if or when the bubble will burst, and how big the impact will have on the "normal" economy. The real concern is when the start ups try to seel stock, then the contagion will be out and running. As it is, according to the Bank of England, approx 45% of the US Stock Market is on such tech stocks, and most of the growth of the Dow is done to the impossible values and returns on tech start ups.

I'm sure it'll all be fine, and there's nothing to worry about.

But if you use AI for anything, think of those whose work the tool has robbed, and how much poorer the world would be without them.

Wednesday 25th February 2026

Wednesday morning, and so up and about for a packed day.

After getting dressed and having coffee, I have to drop Jools off in town for her fitness class. Though I drop her off at the layby near the castle, where away to the left across the Channel, the coast of La Belle France is as clear as a bell.

I go down to the coach park to turn round, pausing to take shots of the castle, glistening in the rays of the just risen sun, before driving back up to the Duke of Yorks roundabout, along to Whitfield, before turning down the hill to River.

Kent is mostly chalk downland, and this is carved and shaped by the movement of water. Water caused by rain and snow melt, flows along valleys in winterbournes.

Dover's river, the River Dour, rises mainly in Temple Ewell, although that water flows from Chislehurst at least, to rise the flow along one of the town's valleys into the town.

Another branch rises along the Alkham Valley, near the hamlet of Drellingore, from which the winterbourne takes its name. This bourne is said by local lore, to only flow once every seven years, but in recent times has flowed more frequently than that.

We did pass that way on Saturday, I noted it's passage over farmland at the valley's lowest point, so would return to snap it in due course.

I park in the gateway of a field, the usual spot, and in the deep shadow of the down, take four or five shots before driving off to the next stop.

Next stop is Barham.

I go back to Temple Ewell, take a sharp left towards and through Lydden, and re-join the A2 heading towards Canterbury.

I turn off, towards Barham, take the narrow lane past the church, then onto the main valley road, past the village shop, parking on the main road near the bus stop, already busy with pupils waiting for their transport to the city and their high school.

The Nailbourne is another winterbourne, a bourne at at Littlebourne a handful of miles to the north east, becomes the Little Stour, which then in time joins the Great Stour at Plucks Gutter.

Mills were placed along the Nailbourne, towns grew up along the bourne, and at Barham, the bed of the Nailbourne is literally a street.

Kent County Council made regular updates last week as the bed of the Nailbourne filled, and the river flowed again, allowing people along its course to make arrangements.

It is quite the sight to see a lively and gurgling stream, nearly a river, flowing along a street, hemmed in by red and white plastic barriers. But this is normal. At least normal for Barham.

Further along, there is a gap between the barriers and walls of houses to allow a path to remain mostly dry, and so along this the residents can still come and go.

I take a few shots, then walk back along The Causeway, beside the bourne, back to the car, so to my final destination along the valley, Bishopsbourne.

It turned out that although the flow was impressive, it wasn't enough to close the fords into the village, the second ford had water in a culvert below the road, rather than over the road.

I didn't stop to take a shot, so instead turned back to the coast, and thoughts how to kill half an hour of time.

Down through Denton to Hawkinge, then avoiding the jams into Folkestone, I turned onto the A20 towards Dover, and when I reached Aycliffe, I turned up the cliffs to St Martins.

The rising sun caused stark contrast over the western docks, and the new customs facilities. I stayed half an hour, listening to a podcast, taking shots of the work underway.

I had things to collect from M&S, so drove down Military Road into the town, parking off Castle Street, and going to St James to collect a parcel for Jools, then going to a shoe shop to pick up a cheap pair of summer shoes to go away with.

Finally, walk to Chapin's, to wait for Jools so we could have a breakfast, without cooking at home.

I get a table for two, order a pot of tea, and settle down to wait for Jools. People come and go, ordering scones, or a breakfast.

Jools arrives. We order our breakfast and a cuppa. We catch up on news, while on the next table, an American lady tied to explain what eggs "over easy" meant.

Breakfast came, and we were hungry, so we tuck in, and make the lovely fried food vanish.

Our next port of call was the wood behind Waldershare church.

Wild garlic, aka Ramsons, are a wonderful ingredient for sausages, and so the butcher at Preston said he would love some sweet young Ramsons leaves.

Which is why we were in the wood behind Waldershare church, walking down the long woodland track, down the slope, then snipping the young shoots.

We soon fill a plastic bag, and I think that was enough as it was early in the season, so we take our swag and beat a retreat to the car, then drive along the Sandwich road to the coast, then over the marshes to Preston.

Mark was happy with our gift, but with us going away in three days, we take no gifts, and head back to Sandwich, then along to Whitfield to home.

Phew.

Back home we had a brew, so pistachio filled chocolates, and the question as to what to do with the rest of the afternoon.

Although sitting around eating chocolates is great, it seemed a shame to miss the warm sunshine outside, so I said I'd go for a walk.

My target was a small stretch of hedgerow at the top of the down, where Lesser Celandines show their glorious yellow faces. Only trouble was that to get there I would have to walk the muddy tracks, double so the places where water gathered and made the mud more than ankle deep.

I went up Station Road, beyond the four roads of the estate, past the war memorial and to the top track, dodging the cars and vans hammering along the road over the top of the down to the start of the track. And the start of the mud.

Truth was it looked worse than it was, with me having to walk along the very edge in only about three places, and the trainers I thought would be caked with mud, weren't.

Much.

I get to the stretch of hedge, and there were about a dozen spikes open, so i snap the best two, then set about walking to the track leading back down to Collingwood.

Thing about chalk downs is that rain and moisture seems through the nine inch soil to the chalk below, and seeps away. Even with heavy rain just a few days ago, the mud was firm enough, mostly to walk on.

There was one spot I knew would be bad, a spot where the two tracks crossed, and the two fields above the crossing both drained down the track. Making a large mud bath.

Even this had a fairly dry path through it, so it was just past the horses in their paddocks, to the bottom of the small dip, then up the other side to Collingwood.

I walk along it to check on the colony of Coltsfoot, and was rewarded with two spikes showing. So I snap one, then walk to Station Road again, before turning along to Chez Jelltex where a fresh brew was called for.

It was four by then, and the warmth of the day was fading, so the heating was put on and the back door closed.

All ready for an evening of football.

Norwich were on TV, playing already relegated Sheffield Wednesday. On Wednesday. A huge potential banana skin for City, doubly so with the injury crisis. But City played well, scored twice in the first half, then cruised to another win, albeit with another potential season-ending injury to a forward.

Still, nearly safe now.

Tuesday 24th February 2026

Time is rapidly running out for us this week, as we are jetting off at the end of the week.

Although, I'm not panicking yet. I have clothes, camera, shoes and the rest, its just a case of throwing it all in a suitcase sometime Friday evening or Saturday morning, possibly the same time Jools takes the cats to their prison.

Being a Tuesday, it is phys day. So up before the larks, and after coffee off to Whitfield to do a session.

It seems the new year surge has died out, so the car park and gym itself were not so busy.

I find a place to park, walk to the entrance, not as cold as other mornings this year, and upstairs to the bike.

I load a podcast and am off and pedalling.

And forty minutes later, I was done.

A quick dash to Tesco for some cash and some milk, then back home so Jools could jump in to go to her class.

She had a brew ready, which I happily accept. We chat, but then she has to go.

I make 90 minutes fritter away, by doing some freelance procrastinating, then Jools is back, and she had a couple of hours before she is to take Aunt Jan to Barham for a funeral.

It was some distant family friend, and my presence wasn't needed.

So, I had a shave, shower, so am all nice and stinky when she came home.

The bright sunny start soon gave way to mist and cloud, meaning it felt colder than it actually was.

Instead I prepare potatoes and veg for chorizo hash, all ready to go when Jan dropped Jools off.

That was two in the afternoon, so I fire up most of the rings on the stove and get cooking. Forty minutes later we sit down to lunch/dinner, with plenty of golden crispy potatoes to go along with the peppers, onions and chorizo.

Lovely.

An hour of Bangers and Cash, and it was four in the afternoon. The sky cleared and there was a spectacular sunset somewhere behind Di's.

Football in the evening: Watford v Ipswich on the tellybox, and Newcastle on the radio. Who said men can't multi-task?

With the results obvious by twenty past nine, I head off up to bed, tired out by the tasks of the day.

Monday 23rd February 2026

It is the last week in February, and there's a feeling Spring is just around the corner. However, as Prince said, sometimes it snows in April.

The day was cool and cloudy. But dry.

Which was nice.

First thing, Jools went swimming, while I went back to sleep until six and was only woke by Jools accelerating up the drive.

So I get up, get dressed and go down to make a coffee.

Birds were singing for the joy that spring brings. It will bring hungry mouths to fill for most, of course.

I had 90 minutes before she was back, so I watched some videos, listened to podcasts, but made sure the kettle was freshly boiled so she could have a brew once home.

Before taking her friend into Deal for coffee and a chat.

Despite being dry, there was a chill to the wind, and with better weather the next two days, I decide not to go out after all.

Except into the garden.

Lunch was garlic chicken, stir fry and noodles, all done in about twenty minutes when she got back from Deal, by which time were was light drizzle outside.

We have music on in the afternoon, and the day slides gently towards evening.

We watch a wordy science program about missing matter from the universe, that and how come black holes got so big so early in the universe.

We understand some of it.

There was football in the evening: Everton v Man Utd, which on the face of it was good enough, but littered with mistakes by both sides, with Utd scoring the only goal with the best move of the match.

I had almost given up and gone to bed.

A family affair.

The Duke of Edinburgh used to call the Royal family "the Business".

A family that says it is dedicated to a life of service.

A life that is lived in a series of palaces, opening motorways, Royal "Tours" around the world, and for most Princes and Princesses, the only real vocation other than waving is to join the military.

Prince Andrew served with the Royal Navy before demobbing, then became a full time, whatever it is Pronces do to fill their days.

He married. Had children. Divorced.

And became a trade envoy for the UK, although no one seems too sure as to what a trade envoy does, and whether it is a pulic office or not.

Rumours began to circulate of a friendship with Epstein and his circle. Accusations were made of underage sex.

It went to coaurt, but under a plea deal his Mother, Queen Elizabeth II gifted Andrew £12,000,000 to pay his accuser off. Paid her twelve million to a girl he said he had never met, although photographs of them did exist.

But it did not go away.

The Epsten files show that Andrew, he lost the right to be called a Prince, stayed friends with Epstein after Epstein was released from prison after being convicted on child sex charges. And Andrew passed sensitive trade documentation as well.

Andrew is no longer a Prince, no longer HRH, was evicted from his multi-bedroom "cottage" at Windsor. He has now been arrested on suspision, not of child sex offences, but of misconduct in a public office relating to passing trade documents to Epstein.

A huge sex trafficing ring operated for years, suppling the rich and powerful with underage girls for sex and torture. So far, only a woman has been charged with offences relating to trafficing, and the President of the USA ignores the fact his name appears over 1.5 million times in the documents, and his Governments fail to obey the law in releasing all documents.

At the centre of all this, apparently forgotten by all, are the dozen, perhaps hundreds of girls and young womrn who were used and abused. When will justice think of them?

A short announcement

We are off on our travels at the weekend, so the blog will be taking an 11 day break.

I intend to write whilst away, so all our adventures will be documented, as well as lots and lots of pictures.

Anyway, so the last blog for a while will be on Friday evening.

Happy days.

Sunday 22nd February 2026

After the sunshine on Saturday, Sunday was to be damper and more suited for staying indoors,. So it was just as well there was a feat of football on the tellybox in the afternoon.

Being a Sunday, and there being no huge lunch to prepare, we go to the gym at seven, after drinking coffee and feeding the cats.

Sunday is the best day in the gym, only fools like us venture out at seven, so the equipment is pretty much empty, and even the radio turned down.

I listen to Bendy and Waldy's Adventures in Art while I peddle. I like them both, Waldy especially. Not sure discussing a visual medium on an audio only podcast works, but it is good to hear two experts, chewing the fat on the latest news. And top of the list was Michelangelo's Foot being sold for $27million, not the two million expected.

As Waldy pointed out, such sums could be better spent helping mankind, not feathering some rich bloke's man cave, or sitting in a bank vault for decades.

Oh well.

Back home at eight, for a morning of music as usual, and in time brews and breakfast.

I have a shower, and so all fragrant for the midday kickoff between the two Sheffield clubs: Utd and Wednesday.

Wednesday had to win to avoid being the club relegated earliest in any season in the history of the game. They put in a good showing, losing 2-1, not helped by conceding in the first minute.

Then came Forest v Liverpool, which was heading for a 0-0 draw until there was a bizarre goal in the 96th minute, in off an elbow, to seal the win for Liverpool.

Finally, there was the North London Derby, men against mice, with Arsenal top of the league, and Spurs near the bottom. Would changing manager help Spurs to an unlikely win?

No.

Another 4-1 drubbing for Spurs, and so sink deeper into trouble.

At some point we had lunch: vegetables with the rest of the cheesy mustard sauce, pork pie, pigs in blankets left from the day before, and the reheated crispy bits from the beef also from Saturday.

It was wonderful, but we couldn't eat the pie, so that lives to fight another day.

And that was the weekend.

Again.

Next weekend will be very different indeed.

With the Beatles (1963)

With the Beatles was also released in 1963, a mere eight months after Please Please Me. And this was just a couple of months before Beatlemania hit the US.

It was released the day before news that JFK was shot reached the UK, 23rd was also the day that Dr Who first aired on television. So quite a couple of days in popular culture.

Like like Please Please Me, With the Beatles had several rockan roll as well as soul cover versions, and so had two less Lennon /McCartney originals due to an extra cover and the inclusion of the first George Harrison original.

It was recorded over the summer and early autumn at Abbey Road, between tours, and the sessions also produced the non-album single, "I Want to Hold Your Hand".

I have to admit to being underwhelmed by Please Please Me, and I think I might feel the same way about With the Beatles. We shall see.

"It Won't Be Long"
"All I've Got to Do"
"All My Loving"
"Don't Bother Me"
"Little Child"
"Till There Was You"
"Please Mr. Postman"

Side 2

"Roll Over Beethoven"
"Hold Me Tight"
"You Really Got a Hold on Me"
"I Wanna Be Your Man"
"Devil in Her Heart"
"Not a Second Time"
"Money (That's What I Want)"

"It Won't be Long" opens side one, and already there is an increase in maturity on show. The Paul and John harmonies are perfect, and instrumantation only has a slight nostalgic hint, it rattles along in a most pleasant way, and short enough (as most eatly Beatles tracks were), so doesn't over stay it's welcome.

"All I've Got to Do" opens mid-tempo, but builds to a more powerful creshendo leading tot he chorus, before repeating the trick again. The fade out, at forst I thought was the bridge, with McCartney humming, but fades to silence.

"All My Loving" arrives next, like an old familiar friend, which it is. This is, I suppose, "classic" early period Beatles, it is a wonder, really. What else can I say about a song that we all know so well, and an orignal that hints at the greater songs yet to come on subsequent albums and singles.

The George Harrison penned "Don't Bother Me" comes next. In what would be a familiar pattern, he gets just one composition per album here, and on most that floow. There's nothing wrong with it as a song, but is clearly second division when compared to "All my Loving". George also sings.

"Little Child" is a harmonica driven Lennon/McCartney original that seems to owe more to the past than it does lokking to the golden future that was soon to be theirs. That being said, that is me looking back, rather than hearing this at the time when surrounded on the radio with what passed as popular music. And remember, another self-penned tune, as all the first five tracks were. A remarkable achievement.

"Till There Was You" is the first cover on the record, and is very much in the mid-tempo camp once again. A gentle guitar lead song, with Pauls lament over the top. It's OK. But I'm getting to the point where only Lennon/McCarney originals will do. Maybe the next track will change my mind?

Over familirarity might be another problem, doubly so with a song with so many other versions out in the world, but The Beatles version of "Please Mr. Postman" might well be the best and the most well known. What is wonderful is the playful way the backing vocals play around Lennon's lead, and the backing track compliments the song. A fine way to close side 1.

Side 2 is cover version heavy, and another Ringo Starr vocal lurks there too.

There is only one version of "Roll Over Beethoven" you ever need, and that's Chuck's. That being said, after the poor opening guitar, it settles down ino a song The Beatles made their own, and I soon forgot the original. Of course, this is another the world and his wife i familiar with, and maybe for some fans at the time, the first time they might have heard the song. Made Chuck a few pennies too, I expect.

If I were to think of a typical early period Beatle song, it might sound something like "Hold Me Tight". Another Lennon/McCartney original, and is full of backing vocals, full musical backing and Paul's lead. Seems to me he loses note a couple of times near the end, but that's maybe the charm?

Almost certainly the first time I have heard their version of Smokey Robinson's "You Really Got a Hold on Me" , and another they put their own take on another's song. I don't think I have heard Smokey's version either, but seems a little odd hering a Beatle backing to a clear soul song. I like it, mind. And at a nat's crochet over three minutes, the longest track out of the 14 on the album. OK, just listening to the original, and I love the yearning in Robinson's voice.

Imagine having a good singing voice, and in a band with a recording contract, but having the fourth best voice. Of the two Ringo sung songs, one on each of the first two albus, I like them both. Maybe he's best suited to high tempto numbered, but I can imagine him singing, whilst playing, head nodding and air all a blur. Stays, does its thing, then leaves. Great. That's "I Wanna Be Your Man".

George sings lead again on the cover of "Devil in Her Heart". It features pefect backing vocals, even its not the most inspiring of songs, it does show how the band was now able to sprinkle Beatle magic dst on many different songs and make it theirs.

"Not a Second Time" is the penultimate track, and the last original. The Beatles now clearly have a sound, especially, for me, with the backing vocals. Always a pleasure, even in these early days of their recording career. This isn't their finest moment, but clearly them. A bit too slow for me, but what do I know?

Familiarity breeds contempt, it is said. Well, we all know "Money (That's What I Want)" in various version, co-written by Berry Gordy and Janie Bradford, though probably Gordy just wanted half the writing royalties. Probably. John is on lead vocals, it stretches it to near breaking point, a wonderous thing. With a percussion heavy backing its really is a fine way to close the record.

And to close this first part of their history, because after this it sets serious, glorious and wonderful.

Starts slow, but soon the band find their unique voice, and were on top of their (early) game.

An improvement on Please Please Me.

Saturday 21st February 2026

Our good friend, Fran, mentioned that if we were ever going near to Dungeness, she would like to come along.

In addition, we invited her to lunch on Sunday, but as it turned out the weather was to be better on Saturday, so why not combine the two, if she was free?

She was, so a plan was made, she would arrive at ten past nine, we would drive to Dungeness, do some light birding, then come back to Chez Jelltex for dinner.

However, this meant some preparation.

Meat was bought during the week from Preston, so instead of going to the gym, I stayed home while Jools went swimming, seasoned and prepared the beef. Potatoes were peeled, left to soak for an hour, then boiled almost to destruction. Batter for Yorkshire puddings was mixed and left in the fridge for the lactic acid to weaken.

With all that done, we could go out and enjoy nature.

Jools came home at half eight, there was just enough time for breakfast and a brew, and have time to get to Priory to meet Fran off the train.

From there we went up Old Folkestone Road, onto the A20 at Capel, then up the motorway to Hythe, before turning off and once through the town, along the coast road to Dymchurch, New Romney and out onto the otherworldliness of Dungeness, Britain's only designated desert.

Through Lydd, then once we were among the pools left from aggregate extraction, before turning off along the long track to the reserve centre.

Dungeness is dominated by the two now decommissioned nuclear power stations, and rows of pylons and power lines marching across the flat Romney Marsh.

We park, go in and so after paying the parking fee, walk onto the reserve, taking in two hides: one open looking at the main lake, and the second, closed looking at a smaller pool.

There were a huge variety of water fowl to see: Teal, Tufted Ducks, Pochards, Goldeneye, as well as cormorants, gulls, egrets, whilst nearby smaller birds like Chiff chaffs, Long-tailed tits, a kingfisher, Great and Blue tits could be seen.

Cloud was expected, but at first clouds parted and blessed us with sunshine, but the wind was building, and my decision to skip a layer of clothing proved to be misconceived, I grew cold. So, left Fran and Jools to walk to the third hide, while I returned to the covered one, then back to the welcome centre for a coffee and a large cookie, which I ate and drank whilst sipping fresh coffee, sitting in an armchair.

Time was ticking by, so at half twelve we left, driving back, and a second destination scrubbed as it would be half one by the time we got home, and there was dinner to cook. And Fran had to get home in Herne Bay after eating.

Back home back along the coast road in sun, then up to the motorway. We turn off and drive up the Alkham Valley, where the Drellingore winterbourne was flowing well.

Once inside Chez Jelltex, the ovens were fired up, the fat for potatoes heated to sizzling hot, and the beef put in to roast.

Vegetables were prepared while Jools and Fran talked, so I could listen to the football on the radio, whilst first the kitchen, then the rest of the house filled with the smell of roast beef.

Lovely.

It was all done for four, I dish up, so we could eat with radio 5 babbling in the background.

Readers, it was another magnificent meal: lots of vegetables, perfectly cooked meat, pigs in blankets, Yorkshire puddings and lashings of home made gravy.

Sadly, Norwich could not match this magnificence, losing 2-1 at home to Birmingham.

I said I would wash and tidy up if Jools took Fran home, which is what happened. Me listening to the later game while I scrubbed, buffed and dried up.

Once Jools came back, we had a brew and the last of the pistachio cookies bought for her craft group.

Phew: rock and roll.

Friday 20th February 2026

It is Friday again.

I feel better, which is nice, which is why I was up at five, getting dressed, drinking coffee, and doing the bins. So that come six, I could drop Jools off at Oddfellows Hall for her yoga class, then I would go up to Whitfield for some phys.

Traffic was quiet, its half term week after all, so we made it into town safely, then turn round and go up Connaught Hill to the Duke of Yorks and left at the roundabout to Whitfield.

The gym was quiet, so I got on the bike, did my forty minutes, then drove round to Tesco, filled with fuel, and went shopping.

Jools was going to catch a bus after her class, for the eleven minute ride up to Whitfield, to meet me in the car park.

Just who would be waiting?

Tesco was quiet, full of Mother's Day tat, which I don't have to think about now, and go round buying stuff for our last week in Blighty before our first trip of the year next weekend.

I remember most of the stuff, so go and pay, loaded the car and was waiting for a couple of minutes when Jools's bus turned up.

Waiting long?

Not really.

So we went home.

And being half term, the usual traffic jams just were not there, so we arrived home at eight.

We pack the shopping away, have a brew, then breakfast, so that by nine we were nice and relaxed and ready for the rest of the day.

Jools went to the library for her craft and gossip morning. I stayed home, had a shower, shave and so was all lovely and smelling gorgeous when she came back home at quarter past midday.

We have sausage rolls from the butcher for lunch, before driving to Deal for a lecture.

The U3A isn't all about churchcrawling and bridge, they do some stuff to improve our understanding. But this is the first lecture we had been to.

It was about AI, and the host came up from Guildford to deliver us a rather rose-tinted view of AI.

We found a place to park on the sea front, walked through the narrow lanes to the High Street, then down to the Astor Theatre, before taking seats on the back row.

It was free, so there's that.

Should we go to either The Berry or Freed Man? Tempting, but last time we ended up having fish and chips afterwards.

So, we drove home in the gathering gloom, turning up Station Road and arriving home at four, just enough time to make tagine for dinner. The chicken had been marinating since breakfast, so was fragrant. I make a pot of tagine, let it simmer for an hour before grilling the thigh steaks.

As a bonus there was six portions for the freezer, so once cool I packed the boxes away. By then we had eaten, and were stuffed.

I messed up the music quiz, so it goes. But am still in second place going towards the last round of the month.

Blackburn played Preston on the telly, I stayed awake.

And Blackburn scored a last minute winner.

Thursday 19th February 2026

I did feel better after nearly ten hours sleep.

That being said, it some getting up, and as Jools had a swimming session booked, she left me in bed with Cleo, then me struggling with gravity as I peeled myself out of bed.

Once up, I wanted, nay, needed coffee, so went down to make it, and amazingly, it came out perfect, a perfect balance of caffeine and sweetness.

I checked on the world, it was pretty messed up, though would get worse if you name was Andrew and it was your birthday.

Ahem.

It was another dreary day, low cloud and steady drizzle. I failed to take a shot of the day until I had a beer in the evening.

After ten, we drove over to Sandwich Bay to drop off some books on North American birds, butterflies and flowers, as as long as Trump is in power, I don't think we'll be heading back any time soon.

Guys were repairing pot holes in the track leading to the observatory.

There was no one there I knew, so I left the books, filled in a form, and bought some chocolate, and we left.

Back along the partially flooded roads to Whitfield to pick up a new cat basket we had ordered, as in a week the moggies will be going to kitty prison as we jet off for sunshine and orchids.

Finally, we went to see Jen, as cards seems to have died a death, so we had a brew while we talked, before we said goodbye and we came home so I could peel some potatoes for hash later.

The wind and rain continued, so we did little other than stare out the windows, then I prepared the hash and cooked it, so come two, we sat down to a Spanish feast.

Lovely.

I had another small migraine, but nothing to worry about, outside the day faded. And inside Jools watched more of A Handmaidens Tale, which I have no interest in.

No footy on the tellybox, so early to bed, as for a change, I would be physing it on a Friday morning. And we would have to do the bins.

Wednesday 18th February 2026

Life has been pretty stress free for the past eleven months. I have relaxed, slept well, and even been going to the gym.

But my body has been stopping me from going to sleep, cramps when I lay on my left hand side, meaning that I get less than seven or eight hours sleep despite being in bed.

Normally, this happens on just a couple of nights a week, but Tuesday night was the third in a row, and whilst I have one ocular migraine on Tuesday, Wednesday was another matter.

One in the morning and another late in the afternoon meant I was feeling washed out, and on the run to collect Jools at Priory Station, oncoming headlights seemed too bright.

Anyway, as I write this on Thursday morning, after nearly ten hours sleep, I feel better. Certainly better than I did this time yesterday.

Anyway.

Wednesday.

I was going to go with Jools to Bromley when she went to her craft and chat group up there, but when I took her into town for her class, it was so cold. Being tired didn't help, but there was no way was I going to wander the streets up there going to the church, so I bailed. Jools would go on the train, alone, after her class, and I would stay home.

The wind was in the perfect direction to blow the cat flap open, so it was bitterly cold in the kitchen and living room. I should have gone upstairs to the office, but didn't, instead did stuff on the computer until the first migraine hit.

I took to the sofa and sat with my eyes closed for half an hour, and the migraine drifted away. My eyes were achey, and I had a headache.

Not much computing until darkness began to fall, and as I edited some shots, dots appeared before my eyes and the second arrived.

The cold wind was now accompanied by the first of the rain, which made the drive into town to collect Jools at six all the more unpleasant.

However, I got it done, then once Jools had got off the train, she climbed in the car and we drove home, with the rain falling harder and harder.

Supper was pizza and beer, so not much clearing up. I was going to watch the Wolves v Arse game, but I was so tired, so went to bed instead, so missing the dramatic Wolves comeback to draw 2-2.

Please Please Me (1963)

I may have said this before, but I am and always have been a singles guy. In that I don't really listen to albums, nor never really did.

Very few albums are perfect all the way through, I can think of just a handful.

About a decade ago, Danny Baker did a series of shows where he and a few of his friends selected three albums each to be the best in each genre. Over the course of the three or four shows, I had heard maybe one or two.

Even worse than that, I can say I have never heard a Beatles, Bob Dylan, most Rolling Stones, no Creedence Clearwater Revival, Beach Boys, and so on, albums at all.

I planned a decade ago, to listen to a load of classic albums, and then write about them.

And so here we are.

The Beatles literally changed popular music.

That's not a matter up for debate.

Over the course of eight years they released 12 (twelve) albums, each one a step up in ambition and sophistication.

I believe.

They were given to George Martin to produce, and in him they had someone who knew how to use a studio. Had they been produced by anyone else, the results and history, could've been very different.

On the fourteen tracks on Please Please Me, six were cover versions, and two of the Lennon/McCartney originals were singles. In order to assess this record, we have to put ourselves back in 1963 and the music scene therein. And that's an impossible task, only people who lived through it can tell us what a change The Beatles and their records were, so anything I say now, some sixty three years later is pretty meaningless.

1. "I Saw Her Standing There"
2. "Misery"
3. "Anna (Go to Him)"
4. "Chains"
5. "Boys"
6. "Ask Me Why"
7. "Please Please Me"

Side 2

1. "Love Me Do"
2. "P.S. I Love You"
3. "Baby It's You"
4. "Do You Want to Know a Secret"
5. "A Taste of Honey"
6. "There's a Place"
7. "Twist and Shout"

back in the 1960s, rock or music journalism, was very much in its infancy, bands were beat combos and tunes were described as mid-tempo foot-tappers, or something like that, and so after the exciting opening florish of "I Saw Her Standing There", the mid-tempo foot-tappers take over. Misery is, in my opinion, pretty poor, especially after that opening blast. But maybe its taking things down a notch, as per in "High Fidelity" and the art of the mix tape.

"Anna (Go to Him)" is pretty much of the same ilk as "Misery", but things perk up with Goffin and Kings "Chains", which rattles along.

I didn't know Ringo Starr sang on anything from Please lease Me, so it was a real surprise to hear him lead on "Boys". Which I really like, especially the imploring to George to take it away on the guitar break.

Two originals end side 1, "Ask me Why" and the title track. The former is ok, but we all know Please Please me, and so closes the side in triumph.

"Love me Do", their first single from the previous year kicks off side 2. I always thought it a dirge, doubly so when re-released in 1982 to mart it's 20th anniversary. Here, it sits well, and opens the side well, though is lacking a little get up and go, but the harmonica sounds good, as the instrument did on other tracks.

In "P.S. I Love You" and "Babt It's You", we return to the mid-tempo stuff again, and maybe it was because I was expecting something with a bit more oomph. When I was listening to "Misery" earlier, I thought how it wouldn't be much of a stretch to imagine Cliff Richard or one of the Larry Parnes stable singing it. Same with most of these.

So it takes "Do You Want to Know a Secret" to lift the tempo again. This was one of the tracks on the Beatles on 45 records of the early 80s, so is familiar to me from that. It starts slow, then crashes into the title and the song flies.

Then it is back to the foot-tappers for "There's a Place" and "There's a Place", wit the latter being better, and its another Lennon/McCartney original.

The album ends with probably the best British rock and roll song of all time, a cover of "Twist and Shout", with Lennnon on lead vocals, his voice straining, and the rest doing the same. Without doubt, also, the best versio of "Twist and Shout".

In order to assess this, as I said, we would have to look back at what other albums were released in 1963, or those that topped the charts. Shall we look?

"Rock 'N' Roll No. 2" by Elvis Presley
"Summer Holiday" by Cliff Richard and The Shadows
"Girls! Girls! Girls!" by Elvis Presely
"A Bobby Vee Recording Session" by Bobby Vee
"Sinatra–Basie: An Historic Musical First" by Frank Sinatra and Count Basie
All Star Festival: The Unique Record in Aid of the World's Refugees by Various
"Richard Chamberlain Sings" by Richard Chamberlain

Then came The Beatles, and it stayed at number one for 30 weeks.

Up to The Beatles, pop music was seen as a way into popular entertainment, variety and a TV show, as per Cliff Richard, Lulu, Cilla Black and others who followed. The Beatles themselves never saw it as something that, at best would last a year or two, and Ring said he just wanted to make enough money to open a hairdressing salon.

Going forward, The Beatles would redefine what an album was, pushing the boundaries of popular music and technology until they realised what they created in the studio could not be played live, so they gave up playing concerts. But the music kept coming and growing.

In short, listening to this, is it possible to see that the band would come to be the biggest force in popular music? Maybe, maybe not. Looking back, and without living through the years before and the music released, its impossible to say what a difference this record and the band made. They were still playing on variety bills on tour, with other bands, a comic and sometimes other variety acts too, so obly got to play fifteen minutes or so, twice a night. But the band had hones their craft in Hamburg and playing for the BBC, and that tightness would only get better.

Tuesday 17th February 2026

So, you know the drill. It's Tuesday, and that means up early, be back sharpish, so Jools can go to her class.

At least it was another day without rain, though the wind was building, and the temperature was just above freezing. Which meant once I arrived at the sports centre, there was the rush to get into the lea of the building and so out of the wind.

Then upstairs, on the bike, start the podcast and start pedalling.

I stuck to the higher level, and pushed out the calories and RPM for forty minutes. I snap the result, possibly to use as a shot of the day. Wipe the machine down, go downstairs and put on my jumper, before walking quickly back to the car, then drive home.

I got back at seven fifteen. There was a brew waiting when I walked in, and Jools was collecting her stuff for a morning out.

Nothing for me to go into town for, so I stay here once she leaves, have a shower and am dressed with trousers on by eight.

It is another fabulously sunny, if cold day. And I would go for another short walk, this time when I reached Station Road, going down rather than up.

I see nothing new in flower, other than a single Sun Spurge among Walter's wild flower mix. So I snap that, and go back inside. Hands like blocks of ice, so I put the kettle on.

Once Jools came back, I make lunch. AKA the main meal of the day. Chicken Kyiv, grains, steamed vegetables with a cheese and mustard sauce, and sprouts cooked with guanciale.

It was magnificent.

After cleaning up, we take to the sofa where staying awake was the hardest part, as Bangers and Cash played out on the tellybox.

Jools started to watch The Handmaiden's Tale, but I have little interest in drama these days, so fiddle around online until it was time for the footy to kick off at seven on the radio.

It was light until after five, Spring could be said to be here, but it is chilly, so we turn the heating up a notch.

Monday 16th February 2026

Monday again.

And this time, with sunshine.

Or some sunshine.

Being a Monday there was no early morning phys, so I could lay in, instead my brain had me awake at before five, though I did nod off and woke again with Cleo on my legs and Jools leaving in the car for an early morning swim session.

So I easy myself from around Cleo, get dressed and go downstairs to make a coffee. Outside it was dawn, light filled the sky and it was going to be a splendid day.

If cold.

I take my coffee, once made, to the table and look at what the world had been doing whilst I slept. Little of it any good, to be honest.

Jools was back in an hour. The pump had failed in the pool, so she just had a sauna, though it was fixed when she went to leave.

I got an ocular migraine, so Jools went out and did chores by herself: to the tip to drop more books off, and to the carpet place, to the pet shop to buy a cat basket, and to get a couple of groceries we needed.

The migraine passed, it came die to a poor night's sleep and being on the computer. At least I don't work now, so can retire to the sofa and sit with my eyes closed for an hour.

I went for a walk. Not far, just to the end of the road, up Station Road to the bus stop, to check on flowers in bloom, and to catch some sunshine on my skin.

I didn't put a jacket on, so it was bracing once made it to Station Road, and once at the top I took shelter in the bus stop before returning home.

A couple of young ladies on huge horses were walking down the hill, so that became the picture of the day.

Though it was warm enough on the bench, sheltered by the hedge in the back garden. I was joined by Scully who was happy enough to sit beside me and snuggle up to my arm.

Once Jools came back, we had a brew, then let time slip though our hands until it was half one, and it was time t prepare what is now the main and last meal of the day.

Breaded fish, stir fry and noodles, so some fibre and protein.

And then, after washing up, more bangers and cash with Scully sitting between Jools and myself on the sofa, very happy with the way the afternoon panned out.

For supper we had the last two short cakes with a brew, by which time it was getting dark outside, and soon the skies cleared more and stars began to show.

There was a top of the table clash on the telly: Coventry v Middlesborough, which was good, with Cov running out 3-1 winners, a poor handball decision giving them their third from the spot.

Sunday 15th February 2026

Sunday was a real drag.

It was to rain hard for at least six hours, and rain steadily otherwise all of daylight hours, and there was no football other than games featuring Celtic and Rangers as all cup games were on a channel I don't pay for.

What were we going to do all day?

For a start, off to the gym. Obviously.

Up at six, have coffee and be there for seven, so that once the doors we swung open, we were third and forth people in the studio, and the two recumbent bikes were ours.

We did just over forty minutes, and I upped the level as I had promised, though pedalled slower, so that the calories burned were not that much more than Saturday's.

Back to the car, rushing before the real rain arrived. Back home, put the birdseed out and say, "well, we're not going out again".

And didn't.

We had the radio on all day: Radcliffe and Maconie first, then switching to Huey on his new station from ten, for four hours of classic gentle tunes.

As we were having pie and veg, I peeled the potatoes and let them soak for a couple of hours. Before boiling almost to destruction, then letting them steam dry.

So that to eat at two, they went into roast at quarter past twelve, and were basted every thirty minutes.

Half an hour before the potatoes were done, I put the veg on to steam and the pies in to cook.

And come five past two when we sat down to eat, all was done to a turn. Perfect food for a cold and rainy day outside.

Not much else to report, really. I watched the Rangers v Hearts game on telly, but without sound, so was disconnected from it.

Short cakes and a fresh brew for supper, then to bed at eight, as the rain continued to fall outside.

Saturday 14th February 2026

Saturday.

And it am the weekend, though as we say, every day is the weekend these days.

And being a weekend, there is always phys to start the day.

Jools had managed to book swimming, so I would go to the gym studio, if that's what they're called, alone.

And as we left home, turned down Station Road, it was almost light. And of course that would improve week on week now.

Not only lighter, but clear skies, skies that would remain clear all day. But it was cold. Just two degrees, and with a very keen breeze, meaning the walk from the car to the entrance was done at a quick hobble.

I went upstairs, while Jools went to the changing rooms and pool.

I set up and do my forty minutes, not out of breath at all at the end, so on Sunday it would an increase in level, up to 14.

While Jools finished her session, I went down and back to the car to drive to Tesco to do the weekly shop.

Tesco, even at eight, is fairly empty, and almost a pleasurable experience. I get all what we need, pay, load up the car and am back outside the sports centre for twenty past eight, just ready for Jools to come out and meet me at the kerb.

Back home, while the A2 was quiet, the start of half term meant the A20 into Dover was pretty slow, but no trouble for us.

Back home we unload the car, top up the feeders, put away the shopping, and make brews, so that by nine we sat down and let out a deep breath.

The big news is that we were meeting Sean and Ange for lunch, so a shower, shave and put on some smart clothes, all ready to leave at midday, to drive to the Duke of Yorks, ten down Jubilee Way to the Promenade, where we found a free parking space.

We were having high tea: that is finger sandwiches, pastries, followed by sones with jam and cream, and tea.

Once we had arrived, we were shown to the petal-strewn table (it was Valentine's Day), and were presented with a free glass of prosecco.

We ate and talked for two hours, but the parking was running out, so we agree to leave, with hugs and handshakes.

Outside it was gloriously sunny, but bitterly cold in the wind, especially those us us dressed in a cotton suit and tie.

Ahem.

Back home in time to get changed into our civvies, then on the sofa with Scully to listen to the football. Norwich beating WBA again, but this time in the cup.

I didn't move then as on with the TV as Scotland v England in he rugby, and England expected to win by ten points.

So, of course, they played very poorly, had the same player yellow carded. Twice. And there was no coming back from that.

Scotland played very well, and deserved to win, the crowd singing repeated choruses of "Flower of Scotland".