Friday 11th September 2026

Another day without prickly heat. Which was good.

I woke up after crazy dreams, which featured a girl and her mother on narrow twisty stairs. Her name was Egypt, which I told her was nice, but that didn't help me find my lost bike, or explain how my survey ship had capsised.

So it goes.

I woke up to hear Jools getting in the car and leaving for yoga, so I get up, get dressed and go down to make coffee.

Nothing new in the world, other than it was a little more stupid than previously.

The bins were put out, the feeders topped up, to much joyous chirping from the hedge.

The main task for the day was the list of churches to visit on Saturday, as it was ride and stride, as well as heritage weekend.

I have decided to use the map from John's first volume of Kent churches, so select 15 (fifteen) near to Dartford, along with postcodes, and hope that some would be open.

As an addition, when I have circled all churches on the map, I will consider the project "done", though there may be some more light crawling over the next few years.

Who knows.

Rain fell in amounts to do the garden good, and the Yellow rattle seed arrived, so more scarifying and broadcasting is expected in the near future.

In the cycling, La Vuelta was back in the mountains, so most of the 210KM was shown live, so Poppy and I settled down and tried to stay awake. Poppy slept all the way through, I lightly dozed.

We had dinner, then it was time for the quiz, in which I came third, so have an 8 (eight) point lead at the top of the table, with three weeks and thirty points to play for.

West Ham thrashed Hollywood FC, Wrexham, 6-0 on the tellybox. I laughed like a drain.

As you do.

Thursday 10th September 2026

It is autumn.

Perhaps.

So there are tasks to be carried out, like sorting the lawnmeadow out.

Due to the prickly heat the day before, I didn't go to the gym, and would lay off any kind of manual labour until Saturday.

Only the lawn needed to be done. As rain was due overnight Thursday, so best get it done.

I laid in bed until nearly seven, getting up just when the session down the gym should have ended.

Outside it was cloudy, but the sun would break through.

After Jools had gone out and returned, I took the car to go to the lawnmower place to buy some of the special non-degrading fuel, then after calling at Tesco for lunch, back home to get to work.

I fill the mower, and do the whole lawn on a low setting. I did intend to wait a couple of days to do the scarifying, but looking at the weather, and now I have an electric scarifyer, its easy enough.

So after a ten minute rest, i get the machine out and get to work, then every twenty paces of so, have to empty the collecting box of thatch, but in under an hour the whole lawn is done.

It'll have to be done again before the end of the month, of course, then seeds sown. But that'll be it for another ten months or so.

We sit on the patio and look at our works.

The cycling was the individual time trial. Not that exciting, but the guy on commentary did their best to bring some drama into it.

And that was that.

More garlic chicken, corn and grains for dinner, before there was the "drama" of Man Utd in Europe. May as well watch it while I have that package.

I went to bed with Utd four goals up and cruising.

The annual birthday chat with David and Mark, with Magic Alex behind

From 47:07 www.youtube.com/watch?v=4dEdoGssRRI&t=2575s

Wednesday 9th July 2026

The wisteria that refused to die.

About a decade ago, we bought two wisteria plants, and put them in tubs with the intention of them climbing up and along the front of the shelter on the lower patio.

Planting them in tubs was the mistake, as there was never enough nutrients in the ground, so both plants would flower poorly and shed their leaves soon after flowring.

One died, and the other one was very sorry looking. So, I pulled it out of the tub, leaving half the roots behind. That plant is doing OK, the main part had died, but a side branch flowered well this year and still have leaves.

In the tub, a small plant emerged from the roots, it was removed last year, the leaves came off and it looked like a twig.

But it refused to die, put forth more leaves and grew strongly, and once its leaves drop, it will also be planted in a bed.

Wednesday started off with heavy rain, meaning that when Jools went out, I did nothing other than the usual messing around online, having breakfast and regular infusions of tea.

The rain stopped, the skies cleared and the sun came out. I went to sit with Mulder and Scully under the kitchen window, listen to podcasts and watch the birds now that they have discovered the feeders are back.

It was beyond warm, but nothing like it was in France at times, or here for that matter. But i felt odd, hot, but different.

In the afternoon I went to Canterbury to have both shoulders pummelled, that went well, and at least the left one is easing.

But on the way back my chest began to itch, and then my arms. And once back the itching spread.

I thought a swarm of mosquitos or midges had been feasting on my delicious blood. But it was something else: prickly heat.

I took an allergy pill, and tried to keep cool as the NHS website warned, this was helped by the evening being the coolest since the early spring, and sitting by the open window watching the cycling and then the football meant that the itching eased, and the rash became less ruddy and raised, until by bedtime, it was gone.

I decided to skip phys the next morning in case the exercise set off another attack.

Other than that, a typical Wednesday

Tuesday 8th September 2026

I foolishly said I was going to do three sessions of phys this week: Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. So this was the second early morning on consecutive mornings.

But I had been away since four, so lay awake waiting for the alarm to go off.

Needless to say, it was dark, but being first up I go downstairs, put the kettle on, test and jab Scully, and then feed them all.

Coffee made for me, tea for Jools, and check on the computer what was going in the world.

Time slips by, and soon I have to put my trainers on and be out of the house.

Sigh.

I drive to Whitfield, and after parking I am nearly run over by a reversing car, whose driver failed to check in his mirrors. I thought he was going to give me a piece of his mind, and would respond my surprise at him having any spare.

But he drove off.

I walked to the entrance and then up to the gym. I have a pod to listen to, on which I am featured speaking about The Beatles. But the usual stuff before me.

I do 300 calories, and decide that was enough, so go downstairs to cool down, easier as outside the rain was falling, and due to get heavier through the morning.

There would be no mowing the lawn this day, the rain came down harder, turning the lawnmeadow green. Or greener.

Jools leaves, so I have the morning in which to have breakfast, a show, another brew. Which I manage.

After lunch we go to Jen's for our first game of cards in months.

We have a brew while we play. I have little luck all afternoon. But Jools wins the run kitty in Queenie, scooping several pounds in pennies, meaning our tin wasn't big enough to hold all our winnings.

Ha!

A race back home to turn on the TV so I can watch La Vuelta. Once that was done, I go to the kitchen, rustle up a quick lunch.

We had a bottle of English fizz to go with lunch, which I ad bought on Sunday. And very nice and refreshing it was too.

And then to the sofa for the race.

Once that ended, I had half an hour before the evening's football, where I watched West Ham play at Bolton. It ended in an entertaining 3-2 away win.

Travel update

And more importantly, an update following our telling our financial advisor of our travel plans for next year, and what we spent last year.

Well.

For the last 24 hours, we have been looking at reciepts and hotels bills, flight tickets and the such.

And the truth is, we have some difficult choices to make.

We had allowed a set amount for us to spent on "travel". It appears that we have spent, or will have to spend by the end of March, triple our budget.

Some future spending we can cut, some we cannot.

Being time rich, and apparently money rich, meant never saying no to any possible travel plans.

Its just as well we found out now, so changes can be made.

On top of that, we have had the kitchen and utility rooms made over 100%, and the bathroom done too. Both sets of work overspent by some 20%

There is a chance one or both of us will return to work in order to fund our future spending plans, something we're both looking into.

Today (Thursday) has been spent totalling spending, and some of it is as expected, but a little overspent here, and some overspent over there, can make quite the sum of money.

A reality check for sure.

News as we get it.

Monday 7th September 2026

With the visit to the fort on Sunday, we both skipped the gym, but I rashly said I would go both Monday and Tuesday to make up.

Thus came ten past five on Monday morning. It was still dark, and only the hint of dawn to the south east.

We both do the stuff needed, and have the first drink of the day, so that we were out of the house at ten to six, and at the sports centre just before six.

This was another of the sessions when I dropped the level to 12, so that I could do fifty minutes, and not be out of breath at all, though the humid morning meant we were soon hot and sweaty regardless.

But it was an enjoyable session, so that we were done at just before seven.

I then had a podiatrist appointment at half eight, so rather than go home, we went straight to Deal for an hour's walk round in the clear morning light.

The sun had risen opposite the coast, so that as we walked from the larked car to the promenade, it was right in front of us.

It was glorious, racking up more and more steps, but in a warm morning, it was just marvelous.

I wandered past the fishing boats, then to the pier, and as I went through the entrance, the sun was in my eyes, so I took what I thought was a good shot.

I sat to listen to the end of the podcast, below me, people were swimming in the shallows by the stony beach. Barely a breath of wind stiffed the flags at the end of the pier.

Just like summer.

Time to walk to the surgery, so I head to the High Street, then along back towards the castle, before turning down through the houses.

12,000 steps already done, and feeling pretty good.

After a ten minute wait, I was shown in, and my feet inspected and buffed. The ulcers on my legs are gone, and the redness is fading day by day. It really is a miracle. Or not, as its all down to the hours spent in the gym, and the walking through the spring and summer.

Jools was waiting outside, and we decided to go out for breakfast. But, with schools going back, most places now close on Mondays, and when we did find a place just open, neither of us fancied a fry up, so made do with cheese toasties and a cold drink.

We sat and relaxed as the drinks were brought and the food was cooked.

Once we had eaten, we go to buy a couple of things at a chemists, then back to the car and drove home.

So much done, and it wasn't yet ten. So, I had a shower and changed, then it was make a fresh brew and sit on the patio with Scully.

Of course, no cycling as it was a rest day, and with European football starting, no Monday Night Premier League games either.

Jools knits in the shelter at the bottom of the garden, in the shade from the warmest part of the day, whilst I write, edit shots and the such.

I do watch the highlights of Sunday's stage of the tour from Spain, Wout is a machine, and my favourite rider, and has been for a few years now. So strong and combative.

The evening came early, with darkness falling soon after, and after a glass or two of sloe gin, I headed up to bed, half an hour behind Jools.

Sunday 6th September 2026

Here in the UK, the name for a prison for youths and young adults is Borstal.

Never really thought about it, but its an odd name.

Borstal, it turns out, is an area of Chatham which is packed with prisons, even still, even a Youth Offender's Institution: Borstal.

Chatham used to have one of the Royal Dockyards, its still there but now a museum. And under threat from a modernising French Navy in the middle of the 19th century, it was planned to build a ring of forts round Chatham to protect it from all angles.

So urgent was this that it took 41 years to complete, into the 20th century, but just in time for a World War, and the forts were put to use.

The one at Borstal, Fort Borstal has been abandoned for some years, owned by a series of people, one of who, as we shall see, had some alternative plans for parts of the fort.

While I was in France, tickets went on sale for a tour, and Andy kindly bought two, so we could attend. And i would pick him up on the way.

As time would be tight, no phys this Sunday, instead a lay in, then a coffee, before leaving home at quarter to eight. Drive to the A2, then up to Faversham, cruising at sixty, as we didn't have to be in Chatham until ten.

Andy was waiting, so back onto the motorways for a blast up to the Medway towns (and former city), turn off, down past the old airport, and then past the gatehouses of at least two prisons and the Borstal, arriving at the fort an hour and five minutes early.

We would go to explore.

We walk round the trees marking where the defensive ditch still is, until the land and view opened out so that we had a clear sight of the Medway Valley, the motorway and HS1 viaducts, as well as Diggerland.

We waited to watch two Eurostars and tow double Javelins go by, hammering over the bridge twice as fast as most of the cars.

And there was botanising.

I was showing Andy some Weld, when I saw a small red insect: a Firebug. A recent migrant, but in the warm summer we have just had, is thriving, and we saw them in their hundreds.

I took shots.

The videos of Javelins and Eurostar.

Then it was time to walk back to the entrance for the tour.

About thirty of us had arrived, and two guides, their children and at least three local volunteers to show us round and give us more information.

The Fort is now in the hands of people who are renovating it. A huge task due to its size, and the state previous owners had left it. There is even a vineyard there now, on the slope of the down leading to the motorway.

The buildings looked cared for, recently painted, and impressive.

We went underground, looking at the original defensive positions.

Along the top of the battlements, with our guide telling is of the fort's role in the two World Wars, mainly as home to anti-aircraft batteries.

Then down to the main magazine, and the steps down and under the defensive ditch.

I skipped the climb down, and the one back up, so got to see, first, what the previous owner had created inside the main magazine.

The passageway outside was lit by red lights, so that must have been a clue. And it was.

Inside there was a pole-dancing platform, six huge sofas, and in another room, lit red, was a dancefloor and another pole-dancing platform. A third room was a bar with a motorcycle above, set amongst glass mosaic.

This was here as there are no houses nearby, and a public road passes close, yet to get here you have to drive literally through the car parks to two prisons, and yet here was a sex club.

No other word for it.

It looked gaudy and cheap. And yet was out of the way, no one, it seems knew it was here, and the owner kept the doors locked when Historic England came to check on the listed site.

I stood by as the group climbed back up, and to see the look on their faces as they saw the tawdry rooms for themselves.

And that was the tour over. We walk back to the surface, a farewell chat, then we were on our way.

We stop to buy a bottle of Kent fizz from the shop, then to the car and a careful drive back past the prisons to the main road.

I told Andy about the Wall lizards at Ospringe, and I said I would show him.

Back on the motorway, down past the top of the A249, then to Faversham, before doubling back along the A2, turning off at Maison Dieu, then through the maze of parked cars to the church.

It seemed the wall had been repaired, and I thought they may no longer be there. But I concentrated on a few holes near to the ground, and nearby vegetation, and sure enough there was movement, and two adolescents were scuttling about, one posing long enough on a leaf for Andy to get a shot.

After that we climbed back into the car, and we drove back to the main road, turned east, dropping Andy back home on the way back to Canterbury.

Back home then for quarter past two. I popped two pizzas in the oven, so that once cooked I took mine and a pint and a bit of Belgian tripel to the sofa to watch the second half of the Everton v Man Utd game, before the romp that was Arsenal v Chelsea game, which ended in a 2-1 home win.

Quite right too.

Saturday 5th September 2026

It am the weekend.

Again.

I was up at half five, a poorly shoulder, the other one, keeping me awake or waking me up once asleep.

Bah!

So I get up and wind myself up. Jools has made coffee, so I drink that, and after an hour we get ready for the gym, gather the shopping bags, and shopping list.

And are ready.

A fine late summer's/early autumnal day, the sun rising. Port traffic was light, though some masked knuckle-draggers would see to that later, but this Saturday we were going nowhere beyond Whitfield.

I do 300 calories on the bike at the usual resistance, then we go to Tesco to fill up the car, then to the store for victuals, spending £100.46.

Back home then to pack it away, have breakfast.

Jools worked in the garden most of the day, and I slave over a huge pot of ragu, to fill up the freezer. A pot or two of defrosted and warmed ragu is one of life's pleasures, and as there was little else to do before the sport began, I cooked.

And cooked well.

I had a shower too, changed, so that I was ready at two, once we had eaten the chorizo hash I also cooked, to watch the cycling with the sound down, fully intending to switch over to Final Score at three.

But the cycling was good, even though I was listening to radio 5 rather than the TV, the passing scenery, villages, and the battles at the front of the pack were enthralling.

The football ended at ten to five, so did the cycling, with another mountain-top finish. Norwich win away at Sheffield Utd for the first time in nine years, and became the first team this season to take three points from them too.

A good day.

The Hull v Villa. A good game, though without goals. So to bed at eight, with darkness already falling.

Friday 4th August 2026

Friday again.

I slept in until I head Jools leave in the car for yoga. I thought it about quarter past six, it was twenty minutes earlier.

So I get up, get dressed, and go downstairs to make a coffee and see what had happened in the world.

Everything seems stupid still, so I drink my coffee whilst reading old blog posts.

There are the bins to put out, so I wake the neighbourhood as I drag the recycle bin up, as two weeks beer, cider, and wine bottles rattle.

I fill up the feeder, as the birds had emptied it in less than a day, so I sit with Scully as I watch the birds come from near and far to feast on the buffet I had provided.

In fact I had bought a fat block and holder, which they had eaten in two days, so once Jools came back, I drove to the pet store in Whitfield to buy more.

On the way back at two consecutive roundabouts, a car and a camper van just did not stop when I had right of way. The boy racer ignored me, but the camper van was clearly lost and went round past with in the wrong lane without indicating.

But I got home safe and sound.

Jools went to knot and natter at the library, so I potter around, doing odd jobs in the garden and kitchen, making myself look and feel busy, even if I wasn't.

A late start for the cycling, so we had lunch before the coverage started, but was yet another stage though sun dried rolling hills.

My eyes closed and I started to snooze.

I see the last hour, but think I might give the next two stages a miss.

In the garden, the hedges that Rob trimmed when we were away, have remained dried and looking very dead. But the recent rain has caused new shoots of green to show.

The lawnmeadow is showing green growth too, so that more mowing will soon be needed. When I get new fuel.

I join the podcast with David and Mark, as we discuss a matter of concern: me listening to the Beatles albums, and what I thought.

Then straight to the quiz, which I win with some lateral thinking when a picture of Marge Simpson is the first cryptic clue.

Cheese, crackers and wine for supper, while outside the sun sets turning the sky red, with taking a shot or two of.

Ipswich were playing Liverpool, and I thought they stood a chance. But blooding many new signings, they crumbled as Liverpool scored twice in the opening nine minutes, and that was that.

Thursday 3rd September 2026

I have been letting things slip. Too much wine, cheese and crackers for supper, then beer, and so on.

So, I put some timber back on round my waist.

So, a new, or a renewed determination to to do longer, but not so hard at the gym.

Come next week, only drinking on phys days, and cut out the wine. Wine is too easy and lovely to drink, and I have been drinking too much.

So, the alarm went off at ten past five. It was dark, and Jools slept on. So, I got up, tested and jabbed Scully, fed the other cats, then made drinks. So, although we were five minutes behind, we were in the gym at five past six.

I dialled back from level 15 to 12, and so steadily pedalled for fifty minutes. Fifty one and a half, so I did four hundred k/calories.

It was so easy, and I wasn't out of breath come seven.

I waited for Jools outside, then after cooling down, we drove home.

I sat outside to cool down some more, Jools made brews, and we sat outside with Scully laying down between us as the day began, the sun rose.

I go for a shave and shower, so felt more human once I was dried and dressed, and what to do with the day?

Well, there was cycling from just after lunch, so I managed to fritter away the morning until it was time to sit on the sofa with Poppy near by feet under the TV, sleeping away.

I watched about half the stage, then paused so we could have dinner.

Corn boiled, lamb (which I had coated in harissa paste) friend in a little oil, and some grains flavoured with tomatoes and herbs.

Then back in front of the TV to watch the closing 80km of the race, which was through yet more arid hills, now further south.

That done, there was the evening to fritter away, with no football to watch.

And somehow, the day was passed and it was time for bed.

Poppy slept on.

Wednesday 2nd September 2026

I may have mentioned that I have had a big falling out with our local U3A, for whom I ran a group, then two groups, then one, and now, none.

It was tough to leave the small group of crawlers, telling them via a WhatsApp message that the group no longer exists.

But I had already arranged a "tour" of some of the Romney churches, though the initial date had to be cancelled due to my B12 injections, and then there was our holiday, so the first Wednesday in September was selected. And in all honesty, accidentally at the same time as the U3A's AGM. Though the tour would be outside of the organisation, though a couple did think it was deliberate.

It wasn't.

So, I would have the car all day, so had to drop Jools off in Dover at half seven, then get back home to get my stuff ready, meaning there wasn't time for breakfast.

Bugger.

First I had to pick up Martina from Deal, and as I had seen kids waiting for their buses on the way back from town, I thought Walmer and Deal would be busy with traffic on the school run.

So I took the Sandwich road, then doubling back through Worth to her house. Only traffic was mad there too. At the roundabout, stationary all along the bypass to the next roundabout just over a mile away near the White Mill.

I got into Deal with no issues, parked outside her house, called her to let her know I was waiting, so she came out, loaded the car, so we could drive back to Dover.

We picked up Ros and Phil at St James's, so with a full car we could get going, along the A20 to Folkestone, turning off at Hythe services.

Light rain was falling, which was a shame, but we were in good spirits, as it was the first time we had met since the end of April.

We turned off to Hythe, past the RH&DR station, then out along the coast road, past the shooting range, which was in use, with guns going off as we went past.

Pew, pew, pew!

Once we reached Dymchurch, we turned off, onto the Marsh itself, along narrow twisty lanes to St Mary in the Marsh.

There waiting were the other two members, only problem was that the church was locked, but it wasn't quite ten.

So I showed them E.M. Nesbit's grave, which is marked by a simple wooden marker.

By then the warden arrived. Apologised for being late, so we could go inside and me put my guide head on, so point out areas of interest.

From then on, we drove in our two car convoy the rest of the day, first of all the two miles along most twisty lanes and onto the main road to Old Romney.

Old Romney is situated beside the main road into Sussex and to Rye, and being under the care of the CCT is open every day.

Inside the pale pink painted pews and gallery still look fine, although would look better in white.

The church features two hagioscopes, the doorway to the rood stairs still has the original wooden frame for the door, but most remarkable is the fact it has a large brick bread oven in the south chapel.

When in use would also heat the church too.

I pointed out the multiple buttresses and the leaning walls and tower, so said that Newchurch nearby had an even more dramatic leaning tower: did they want to see it? As I had built some time into the day.

They did, so we drove the couple of miles back the other way and arrived at Newchurch as the rain came down harder.

The tower was three-quarters bult when the lean became worrying, so work stopped until the tower settled, then the bell stage was added, and level.

This came down to the soft ground, something which another church got round in rather a unique way when it came to heir belltower.

But that for later.

But now, on to Ivychuch for the "Cathedral of the Marsh", and lunch.

Upon arrival I went into the pub next door to make sure they were doing food and could seat a group of six. They could.

So I joined the others in the church, enjoying the huge space inside, showing that in the middle ages, the area was made rich thanks to the wool from he hardy Romney Marsh sheep, and some of that money went into building large and grand churches.

The church also features a museum of local farming, and finds from farms nearby.

And then to the pub where two people offered to buy me lunch. One did, but then the other bought me a drink, so we were able to site down, to talk about what we had seen, and me hint at what we might see in the afternoon.

Lunch for me was steak and stilton pie, and despite not having breakfast, I was unable to finish it. We all ate well, so at nearly two in the afternoon, we drove the two miles to Brookland.

St Augustine has several remarkable features.

The stable door-like porch doors that greet visitors.

The magnificent lead font inside, with a ring of astrological signs, with the labours of the month below.

But it is the belltower that the church is rightly best known for.

In order to keep weight down, a triple-decked "candle-snuff" wooden belltowers was constructed, and survives, even if I have never visited the church when the tower doors were unlocked.

And no change this time.

Inside it is remarkable too, a large space with wooden family pews, full of light. And three bored local teenagers, who leave when we arrive.

That leaves just one final church of the afternoon.

A short drive away, even closer to the border with (East) Sussex, is Fairfield. The church is a simple brick and timber building, set among fields and ditches.

It featured in many BBC Dickens dramatisations, just for the uber-rural church.

But it isn't as it seems, as Hasted himself says that when he visited the parish at the end of the 18th century remarked at how recently built the church seemed, and had just one memorial stone inside.

And if that isn't enough, the entire building was rebuilt in the 1920s.

But location here is everything.

We parked on the lane, near a family in an estate car. The Mother told me a couple of cyclists at the church had the key, so we set off through the gate to the field and along the top of a drainage ditch.

Over a narrow bridge, on the other side I met the two guys, took over the key and said I would put it back. Just as well as they didn't know which house it was to be returned to.

I unlocked the door, and I let the group go inside and marvel at how perfectly simple it was.

And tha was that.

We waked back to the road, and I set off along the road to return the key, then the long drove through Hythe via the coast road, passing through New Romney.

Onto the motorway, back to Dover, dropping Ros and Phil off at their house, then took Martina back to Deal.

And that was that, all done.

I drove back home, calling Jools on the way out of Deal, so that she put the kettle on and had a fresh brew waiting after reversing the car down the drive.

We had both eaten well, so had some Spanish tapas for supper, and I opened a new beer, but to my dismay, it was a sour beer, made in the traditional Lambic tradition.

Was OK after a while.