Thursday 22nd October 2026

I slept for some eight hours, waking just once and soon slipping back to sleep soon after.

So, I woke up, finding it still dark. What would the time be: five? Six?

It was twenty past six, and time to get up, and be ready for breakfast at seven, so to beat the rush.

We same three who met the previous two mornings were there, so we sat at the same table and chatted. About churches.

Back to the room to pack, check, and recheck the room to make sure I hadn't left anything behind.

Down at reception at five past nine, no bill to pay, so wait outside for the coach to come and the driver load our cases, then to be ready to move just before nine.

One member of the tour, the guy I helped the day before, decided to drive home, so we waved him off, then the coach back up and we turned for the city, and the short drive to the first church.

Daybrook used to have one of the largest breweries in the city, and the owner's money went partly on the chuch.

St Paul is a huge Victorian building, partly Gothic, with a tower reaching for the heavens.

But the keyholder wasn't there, so we waited on the street until the doors magically swung open.

It is a magnificent Victorian church, John says is one of the best and largest of its type, the type that are scattered across London, and towns and cities up and down the land.

The windows were excellent, and I took approx 300 shots of them!

Nearby is the suburb, as it is now, of Arnold.

St Mary is an ancient parish, and the church is late 13thC and early 14th. Prize item of interest here is an Easter Sepulchre on the north wall of the Chancel.

After introduction to the church, we were left to explore and taker shots, while there was tea and coffee on offer, and the church was filled with the sound of joyful chatter, our hosts smiled to see their church full with people who also loved the building.

Another short drive away, is Papplewick.

Yes, Papplewick.

We were dropped off on a bend, then left with a five minute walk up a long path to the church, which was hiding behind a huge yew tree, that was surrounded by a circular bench.

The church, a small Georgian affair.

I mean, who hasn't enjoyed a small Georgian affair?

Narrow with pews on either side, and a wafer thin gallery on the west end and north side, leading almost to the Chancel.

We were given a short potted history of the church, then allowed to take shots. Exploring wouldn't take long.

Back along the path to the coach, and on the way I snapped several flowering native plants: White deadnettle, Red deadnettle, Shepherd's purse, and Common groundsel.

The vicar from Papplewick also looks after Linby, so he followed us in his car, so to open the church for us.

Which would have been great if he had remembered to bring the church keys with him.

There was a short delay while he ran over to the churchwarden's house for a spare set, then opened up the small church for us.

Another ancient, part Saxon church, now stripped of its plastered walls, so the rough Saxon coursework turns to neater Norman work further up the walls.

A pair of Saxon arches was on the south wall of the Chancel, very much the twin of the same at lyminge.

Time was now getting away from us, especially as we were to be back at Nottingham station for half two, so to be able to catch the ten to three train.

Just one last church of the day, tour, and indeed, the final church John would take a tour round, as he retires once this tour finishes.

Into the centre of Hucknall for this then, the final church.

St Mary sits on the edge of a small square, opposite the stops for what counts as the bus station. Its fencing has been covered in knitted poppies of all sizes, and looked magnificent in the strong, low sunshine.

Inside, there were three things to enjoy: one, an almost complete set of Kempe windows, and most early unsigned ones at that too. Second, the burial place of Lord Byron of Rochdale. Yes, that Lord Byron; mad, bad and dangerous to know. And lastly, the burial place of his daughter, Ada, later Ada Lovelace, the mother of modern computing.

A café took up on transept, and the rest was quite busy, but the windows high enough for us to enjoy while not having others get in the way.

There was a LOT about Byron, of whom I know little other than his reputation.

We only had half an hour, and soon the sands of time had run out, so we walked back to the coach.

John said a few words once we were all on board, remarking his fifty years leading tours, and how grateful he was for those that attended, many every tour, but also for the time off he will now enjoy.

The bus took us back to Nottingham, round the one way system, and dropping us near to the back entrance of the station.

I grabbed by case, walked to the entrance, up the stairs to the footbridge, and found a train to London leaving at 14:12.

It was 14:11.

I ran down onto platform 3, and found all standard class carriages packed, not being able to get in the doors, due to the number of passengers already aboard.

I went to first class, and found I could upgrade for £21, and get free drinks and a snack meal. And a seat.

I paid and slumped into the seat as the train pulled out, an a guy brought me a tea as well as a small bag of crips and a shortbread biscuits.

We rolled through Loughborough to Leicester and Market Harborough before going non-stop to London.

I ate as the countryside rolled by.

Stations flashed by so quickly I couldn't make out their names, but soon we rolled through Luton slower so I could read its name, and I guess the Parkway station for the airport too.

Into London, and a walk to the end of the platform, down the escalators, under the Eurostar platforms and I saw tat a train to Dover was due to leave at 16:04.

Damn, missed it.

Then I saw delayed to 16:07.

It was 16:06.

I went up to the platform, seeing that nice Mr Robin Ince on the way up. And on the upper level I saw the train still at the platform, and doors still open.

I flashed my ticket, ran to the train and got on, the buzzer sounded and the doors closed.

I would be back in Dover at twenty past five!

I called Jools and she would meet me at priory, and once people got off at Statford, I even had a seat.

Even if I did have to get off at Ashford to get on the first six coaches at the train split, but made it, had a seat, and on the last leg home.

Jools was waiting, we picked up a Chinese meal from Ladywell, then back home up Jubilee Way for supper and a beer.

Phew.

Wednesday 21st October 2026

My stupid brain had me awake at three in the morning, and I knew there was no going back to sleep.

So, I got up and began to write the blog for Tuesday, with brief descriptions of each church.

That took 90 minutes.

I also had a brew and ate the pack of two salted caramel cookies beside the kettle.

Before breakfast, I had a shower so was all nice and clean, so that come seven I could go down and be one of the first to eat, as I was hungry.

Fruit followed by sausages and bacon went down well, but the three cups of coffee went down well too, and would keep me awake!

We were all ready for the coach at half nine, with the sun shining from a cloudless sky, turning the autumnal leaves on the trees on campus into vivid yellows and reds.

First church was Edwalton. A small church, with Saxon roots, especially in the nave, with the walls leaning out at a remarkable angle, needing buttresses to keep them up.

We only needed twenty minutes there in order to see and snap the details. Outside it has possibly the ugliest buttress I have seen!

We stayed half an hour, then trapsed outside to the coach for the short drive to the next church.

Tollerton was once a small and rural village. A second more modern part was built half a mile away, meaning the new homes are not really connected with the church. Possibly, 4,000 new homes are to be built on a former air base, on the other side of the church, that might recentre the church in the centre of village life.

That being said, some churches were built beautiful, other grew old gracefully. Some, were mutilated by those who had the building in their care.

And St Peter has been mutilated on several occasions, by the owners of the large house next door. As fashions in house changed, so the house was rebuilt, and the church gutted to match.

The result is a church only the parishners could really love. At least from the gallery, it hides the worse excesses of the rebuilds and renovations.

We were treated to tea and biscuits here, and had an informative introduction.

Which was nice.

Highlight here is the collection of funerary hatchments, which were all over the walls.

The sky had clouded over, and rain began to fall, as forecasted. At least the heavy rain expected later didn't materialise.

St Mary is in the wonderfully name village of Plumtree. We scuttled from the coach to the porch, and were met my a stunning interior: painted and stencilled in the late 19thC, and looking wonderful, as it was renovated in the last couple of decades.

The glass was of a high standard too, and as a whole was probably the most satisfying church of the first three days of the tour.

I went to town snapping all I could.

From Plumtree, we drove to Normanton, a few miles away, for lunch at the Plough.

Another buffet was laid on, with fresh cooked fries as a bonus. The local ale was welcome too.

That set us well for the three churches of the afternoon.

Cropwell Bishop sounds like a minor character actor from the forties Ealing studio, but is a fine church set in a small village.

We arrived and the rain was coming down. Hard.

We scamper to the unusual arched porch entrance, which unusually had no door.

Inside we found a rustic interior, with the mediaeval pews having been replaced, but not discarded, instead placed around the edge of the church so they're not lost.

Each has carvings on the end, and some with faces below the foliage.

The church has some forty slate grave stones, all of which are listed by English Heritage, three of which are in the church, so are untouched by the centuries since their carvings.

Some churches are notable for unusual reasons. Tythby is one such church, in that it is a single church, but with two parishes. And each parish had half of the Nave each.

One side had box pews, whilst the other had benches. Although both parishes attended the same services.

Nothing prepares you for this from the outside, but each side seems to have a pulpit, with the one on the north side a triple deck one.

Again we received a warm welcome. And more tea and biscuits.

Which was nice.

Tythly had only the second Royal coat of arms we had seen in the 14 churches thus far. Not sure if this is a Nottinghamshire thing, of just a coincidence, but coats of arms in only 1 in seven churches visited seems too much of one.

Final stop was a large barn of a church, Langar.

Langar was constructed on a grand scale, and yet there was so much space that successive generations couldn't fill it, so it looks partly desserted.

Its a cruciform church, with north and south transepts, and each contains chest tombs, two on one side, and one the other, all highly carved, and splendid works. Yet the north is now a store room, so the once wealthy and great lay for eternity with chairs and ladders stacked against their final resting places.

In the Nave, there were modern chairs set on a red carpet, but arranged on a semi-circle facing an altar table to the north. And it wasn't clear if this was for some event, or more with some kind of non-conformist lay-out.

Apparently this is the more common lay-out, one which rather surprised the Bishop when he first visited the church.

We were done at half four, so boarded the coach, and Bob drove us back to the campus, passing by a recently occurred accident at a crossroads, where several cars had struck each other, and the emergency services had just arrived, so blue flashing lights everywhere, and the walking wounded hugging each other in relief.

We drove on.

And back to the hotel, and dinner at seven, where we sat round two long tables, most talking about churches. At least I was away from the guy who talked politics all through lunch.

There's that.

And light relief came from Manchester United who lost 4-1 at Como in the CL.

Tuesday 20th October 2026

The weather forecast for the day was grim: rain, getting heavier through the day, so we had to be prepared, coats and brollies.

I overslept to ten past seven, so got up and went down for breakfast, then back to the room so to keep on top of the blog and shots.

Batteries needed charging, shots needed backing up, and the other stuff, so that come half nine, we all gathered out the front of the hotel and boarded the coach.

We rolled through the campus, and edged out onto the main road, heading to the outskirts of the city to Wollaton, where we parked near the village shelter/market cross, with a fine looking pub and the church behind the coach.

The overcast day meant a series of gloomy and dark churches was to follow, and I did my best with the stained glass at St Leonard. Particularly fine was a pair of adjacent windows o featuring St George and St Michael the Archangel, though the colours were really vibrant with your eye.

Another highlight were two cadaver tombs, though the second had the figure hidden behind carved screen making it almost impossible to see and photograph.

Back on the coach for the short drive to Stapleford, a busy village-cum-suburb where our driver dropped us off on the side of the main street, leaving us to dash between the traffic to the church.

Highlight here was in the churchyard, the Saxon Stapleford Cross, grade 1 listed.

While inside a comprehensive introduction to the church and its history meant we only had a few minutes to explore the church before we had to leave and board the bus.

We then had a half hour drive through more industrial, and post industrial towns and landscapes, crossing the main line and Erewash into Derbyshire.

Up through the village of Sandiacre, up and up, along a narrow residential street, then over a crossroad up into Church Lane, a dead end lane that the coach could barely get up.

At the top site St Giles, overlooking the valley into Nottinghamshire and its village.

Through the churchyard filled with stones standing at all angles, except straight, and into the porch, through into the church where we were confronted by a Norman chancel arch, with a dazzling Victorian east window beyond.

In pillars supporting the arch, on one side a carving that might be of either a ghost or a dragon, and on the other side, the famous Sandiacre Imp, a bug-eyed alien figure.

A short talk was given of the history, then we were allowed to explore and take shots.

Up the hill and over the M1 was our lunch stop: The Stanhope Arms, where our coach almost blocked the road through the village. Upstairs was a buffet meal, where we took a break from churches and snapping.

Back into Nottinghamshire, and on a road in rolling parkland sits All Saints.

The rain had still yet to arrive, so we made hay with our fourth church of the day.

In the Chancel beyond, underneath a painted ceiling, six misericords, two with carvings on the seats, one was a Sheela-na-gig, though some parts were missing, and hidden between each seat were carved faces, crudely done, easily missed.

Coffee and chocolate digestives were provided by the warden, making a most excellent visit.

Beside a main road sits St Patrick. Built of sandy-coloured stone, its the tower that takes the eye. Almost castle-like, not so tall, but squat. And it is the tower, or the lower courses of stones that is the oldest.

Inside the church has a fine Rood Screen, the lower half Victorian, but the upper half much older, and has carved beasts if you look carefully.

In a nice touch, it has some fine 20th century pews, each with modest carvings on the end, but one was a Green Man, something also easily overlooked.

Its always the details.

Back into Nottingham now, as the evening drew in early, mixing with heavy rush hour traffic, which took us past former lace factories, and other former industrial sites now retail units or super gyms.

Holy Trinity sits down a quiet street, a huge Victorian pile that dots cities and large town all over the country.

These are rarely unlocked, but this was for us.

Inside, the church is mostly now a community space, with no pews or chairs laid out, instead there are stacks of metal framed chairs to position where needed.

It is a huge space, with fine windows, but the gathering gloom meant those on the north wall were impossible to photograph well, though enough light to the south to get shots of the windows there.

Most impressive here is the 11th century Romanesque font, brought from a nearby monastery, and looks very out of place in its modern surroundings. Its square, or almost, and highly carved, but worn, on all four sides.

It is a remarkable survivor, and more remarkable to find it in Holy Trinity.

Outside it was almost dark, and the rain had begun to fall. We climbed back onto the coach, and our driver took us back the short drive to the hotel, giving us 90 minutes before dinner to relax, and do admin.

The restaurant was crazy busy, and the food took some time to arrive, and as is common in such places, portions not generous, but the food good.

Monday 19th October 2026

And so, once again, I am on my travels.

And Monday was brought to you by track defect at Stratford International.

I actually laid in to gone six, so late it was nearly seven. Giving me two hours to get my act together.

I had coffee, had a shave and shower, dressed, before packing and getting the camera gear packed, checking memory cards and batteries.

A post from Southeastern suggested ten minute delays at Stratford due to a track defect. No worries, I have 40 minutes to get my connection at St Pancras.

So, come quarter past eight, Jools drove me to Priory station, so I could catch the ten to nine train.

The train was eight minutes late, but could make that up after Ashford, no?

No, the track defect issue was ongoing, and would delay us further. But up to Dagenham all was fine, as we plunged into the tunnel under east London.

The the train slowed.

To a crawl.

Time passed, continents moved.

We crawled into Stratford. Half my 40 minutes was gone, any more crawling then I would miss my connection.

But soon after leaving the station, all horses were engaged and we sped up, but I had seventeen minutes to get along the platform, through the gates, across to the other side of the station, up again, then find a seat on the 11:35 train to Nottingham.

I made it with 4 minutes to spare, my hands shaking so bad I couldn't get my ticket in the reader at first.

But then did.

I got a seat at a table, opposite a student who took notes, tapped at her computer, laughed at her phone, then wrote more notes, tapped furiously at her laptop. And so on.

We slipped through London, I saw West Hamstead, but after that we were going to fast to see names of stations. And suddenly out into the countryside.

At Leicester, loads of folks got on for the fifteen minute rattle up to Nottingham, but they all got on, and I looked out of the window.

There was a refreshment trolley, so I bought some crisps, but they had no Coke, only diet. So I bought wine instead.

Wine in a can.

We arrived at Nottingham on time, but I had forty minutes to kill, so found a micropub on the corner of the main street and made a half of maple porter vanish in a couple of gulps.

Now, where to meet the coach and the leader? His mail just said Nottingham station. Its a big place.

So a couple of others on the tour and myself, stood on the side of the street watching buses come and go. No coach.

John appears like the shopkeeper in Br Ben, and says to go down the side of the station, and the coach will be down there.

So our little flock, dragging cases, made our way through the students and shoppers, and there on the left was a half sized coach.

The driver loaded our cases, and we climbed in. And once we were all aboard, we set off across the city, over the tram tracks into a housing estate that used to be meadows.

Water meadows.

And there was the Victorian pile of St George.

The driver let us off outside, and we filed in, to see what had been created at the height of the industrial revolution to serve the rows of workers' houses.

St George is an Anglo-Catholic church, with all the bells and whistles you'd expect. But in a good way.

We had a warm welcome from the priest, who waved enthusiastically as described his church. The large golden curtain behind the altar was very fetching.

I foolishly left my big lens on the bus, so didn't get close up shots of the fine windows, but that wasn't a mistake I'll make again.

Back on the bus again for the short hop to Gotham.

Yes, you read that right, Batman!

We drove for half an hour through countryside filled with fields and small sandy-coloured stone built villages, until we came to Gotham.

Parking near a shelter, bedecked with flowers, the church rises with its spire pointing to the sky.

Inside, two impressive memorials were our main point of interest, on walls stripped of plaster so showing the rough-cut stone from which the church was built.

The cooling towers of the now redundant Ratcliffe on Soar power station are visible for miles around, but our way to the final church of the day was right past them, and the spire of the fine village church could be glimpsed as we joined the dual carriageway heading, possibly, west.

The church of Barton in Fabis is very simmilar to that of Ratcliffe, set down a quiet village street, and the same stone spire we saw at Gotham.

Inside there were tombs, an ancient clock mechanism, and a heraldic memorial, quite splendid.

But time had now beaten us, we were behind schedule, and had to get to our hotel near the university. And getting there meant mixing with the rush hour traffic.

Towns and villages blur into each other, as the main roads leaps from roundabout to roundabout, but our driver knows the way and the correct lane to be in, so gets us there for half five.

A modern pile, four star, with a large lobby and dining area.

We get our keys, and so have an hour before lunch to unpack and freshen up, before meeting at seven for drinks and taking to our tables.

Talk was of churches, of course, as we waited for our meals to arrive, it being busy meant that we didn't finish until well after nine, by which time Spurs were 2-1 up, and as I listened to the radio, score a third in injury time.

Three churches down, just seventeen to go!

Sunday 18th October 2026

Sunday again.

And with my brain not letting me lie in, I was up at half five, when its still technically night as its dark outside.

But accept coffee from my dear Jools and try to wake up.

The day was supposed to be filled with thunder and rain, only no one told Mother Nature, and we got only rain.

All day.

At first there was no rain, then drizzle, then thick cloud swept over, and soon day was turned to night, and it did rain.

But before then there was the gym and phys.

It would have been easy to bail, but we went and did fifty minutes, with me on the higher resistance again.

Back home and had a brew and breakfast, but then the clouds came and brought rain.

Lots of rain.

So for the morning we did our hobbies to the soundtrack from Huey, that was until nearly two when the football began.

We had pizza before the kick off, while outside the rain came down, turning earth to mud. But it will do the garden good.

There was football. Man Utd at Leeds. Ended in a 1-1 draw with neither being very good. Then Arsenal at Forest, during which I swapped messages with my Gooner-supporting friend in the US. Arse scored in the last ten minutes to win, and just about deserved it.

Night came early, and was chilly. So we put the heating on.

On Monday I go travelling again, up north. Or halfway north.

Saturday 17th October 2026

It am the weekend. Again.

And I could lay in to six as the gym opens an hour later.

But my brain had me awake soon after five, so I do get up, and after coffee, we had time to go to Tesco again first, then to the gym for phys.

Which is what we do.

Tesco is pretty empty of customers, but lots of folks filling up shelves. So, we dash round getting stuff for the week, though I will be away for four days, so Jools gets stuff easy to cook.

And at the end, a bill of less than sixty quid!

We drive the four hundred yards to the sports centre, then go to wait the five minutes before the doors are opened, and we restless can sweep in, up the stairs onto our machines of torture.

I do fifty minutes again, so with the two loops round Tesco came to nearly 9,000 steps. Before breakfast.

Back home, and pack away, while we boil the kettle at the same time, so we can slump into our chairs for a relaxing brew.

I have a shower, and when done, the bright low sunshine pours in through the window, casting crepuscular rays in the steam.

I take a shot.

Get dressed, then downstairs to listen to the last of Radcliffe and Maconie, before switching to Huey on Virgin Radio. Five hours of cool music passes, and for the last two hours I watch Watford v Charlton, which the home team wins 2-0.

Then to the main batch of games, watching Final Score on the telly whilst listening to Radio 5 on the phone.

Norwich lost for the 6th game in a row, 1-0 to a poor Pompy, while Ipswich nearly cause an upset at Cheaters FC, losing 3-2 to Citeh.

Between games we have burgers for our main meal, then some Polish saltsticks as I watched Villa beat the Toon, in a fairly entertaining game.

And the day had passed.

Friday 16th October 2026

It's nearly the weekend again.

An attempt to lay in was foiled by my brain, waking me up just after five.

I tried to lay in bed and drop back off, but a cute black and white kitten jumped on the bed, so I got up so not to be pinned there for the day.

It was going to be a fine, late autumn day. Cool to start, but warming up quickly, and warm enough to sit on the patio.

Which I did.

As usual, Jools went to yoga, and I did the bins, then finished my coffee, and checked on the world.

Not much to report for the morning. Jools returned, had breakfast and was off an hour later to taxi her bevvy of ladies to the library, all the more difficult with the gas board digging up Kingsdown Road.

After lunch, Jen came round so we could find a way to upload pictures from her old phone onto her new on.

Was more difficult that it should have been, but buried in a sub-menu, there was a box to tick, then when connected to my laptop, I could import the 290 shots of her friends in that Australia from her last two trips.

She stayed for dinner. I made pasta bolognaise and garlic bread, as well as opening a bottle of XV.

Cheers.

I thought I had done well in the music quiz, but got the answer wrong to make it nul points in three quizzes, but taking part is the fun.

Some Championship footy in the evening, but I give up at half time and head to bed.

Thursday 15th October 2026

It's Thursday again, which means getting up at five for some phys.

Although this would be my last 5AM alarm call for phys for some 12 days, as I'm away next week snapping at churches.

I was awake anyway before the alarm went off, so I got dressed, went down to test and jab Scully, then feed her and the other three before putting the kettle on for my only coffee of the day.

I like coffee, but as its the only drink I have with sugar, I limited my intake to just one cup a day, and if I drink another during the day, then I can't sleep.

Anyway.

It's very dark when we get up, and dark still when we drive to the sports centre, where the car park is half full already.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/jelltecks/55593009163/in/dateposted/ We do our fifty minutes, by which time it is getting light, so I take a shot outside of the contrast between the lights of the centre and blue light of the sky.

Not much to report for the day. A shower and change of clothes, then go to see Jen as it's the 9th anniversary of Tony's passing.

It hardly seems possible, but it was.

Tony passed when Mum was recovering from her second series of heart attacks, Tony had no such warnings, and yet Mum didn't change, and the third series of attacks did for her.

She had 23 months left.

And maybe she could have changed and lived longer. But she hadn't changed in the 19 years since I moved back to Norfolk, so was an hour away from home, as each year she moved less and less.

Anyway, it is what it is, and what it was.

Jen is fine, time heals, and is overjoyed to see us, doubly so when I offer to make a cuppa.

Back home then at eleven, where we do our hobbies: Jools is doing a beading course next month, so is learning the techniques by watching videos and beading along.

We had lamb steaks for dinner. With the leftover pasta salad, which lasted most of the week. The final dregs went in the bin.

We wash up, listen to music, and so the afternoon passes.

Another day draws to an end, though with no football on TV, or none that I can see. Nor is it on the radio, so we head to bead early, as darkness takes us from this world.

Brexit update

I said a few years back that I would only write about Brxit if there were any new policies, or movement on the issue.

Well, during the Labour conference, Andy Burnham, the Prime Minister, called for closer links to the Eu, though what exactly those closer links could be wan't explained. He also repeated this in the House of Commons.

Last week, in a TV interview he revealled he had been told that there was Russian interferance on the Brexit Referendum, this again he repated in the HoC earlier this week.

There will be "reset" talks in November, however, these have been much postponed and delyed since July, so how much store we should put into this is unclear.

What it has done is started the national discussion regarding Brexit, whether it has been a success or failur, and the consequences of that vote.

As I have also said previously, this is the discussion we should have had before the vote, but here we are.

Lead Brexit negotiator un Boris Johnson was David Frost, and he said that if we were still talking about Brexit after five years, then t would have failed.

So, by his words, Brexit has failed.

And yet the ills of the country and economy are still being blamed on migrants. Robert Jenrick this week called for lethal force to be used on those crossing the Channel.

If such an order were given to UK Forces by a Farage Government, this would be an illegal order, and should be refused. That Farage had rowed back from that is at least something.

For the economy, lower than expected numbers of people coming to live and work in the UK means there is a £7billion hole on the Chancellors finances. I mean, who'd have thought that would be the consequences?

For now, Reform vote share has been falling, and more by-elections and local elections have failed to elect candidates from his party. And in elections, voters seem to vote for whoever will defeat those candidates from his party. Of course, whether this will be carried out in a general election is unknown, but with his popularity stalling at the polls, the media still talk to people from Reform with a handful of MPs, rather than say the Lib Dems of Greens who have many more times the MPs in Westminster.

Currently 57% of people think it was wrong to leave the EU, while 30% still think it was a good idea.

So, let's see what November brings in those talks with the EU.

Wednesday 14th October 2026

It is nearly the middle of October, and yet the spirit of summer lingers on.

When days have clear skies, temperatures climb into the late teens or early twenties, warm enough to sit on the patio with cats but sans jumper or coat.

Most trees have yet to done the colours of autumn, and are still mostly green. And when the sun sines, insects like Hummingbird hawkmoths can be seen, zipping around, though their time is drawing near.

Days now begin sometime after seven, and end shortly after six once the sun has set. But the warmth will have left the day before then. Mostly.

On Wednesday, we were both up and about well before six, though Jools up first. The cats were tested and fed, coffee made, and after an hour spent online, Jools went for her class, and I was left home to make a fresh brew, have breakfast and tidy up.

When she returned just after ten, and another heartening brew made and consumed, Jools asked if we should go for a walk.

I didn't really feel like it, but had the idea of scattering verbascum seeds around the neighbourhood, so that in 18 months time, grand, yellow-flowered spikes would reach for the sky. And people would wonder where they came from.

Thing is, bare soil is hard to come by, but I do my best, scattering and stomping them into the earth.

We don't go far, up Station Road, then along the first track past the war memorial, before cutting back to Hardy and out along the lower track, before heading up to Colling wood and home.

Not much seen on the wing or in flower, but an hour wandering, scattering, and stomping was good.

Clear blue skies above, and hedges filled with autumnal fruit, at least those the farmer had so far failed to flail.

Back home we have a fresh brew, sit outside before thoughts turn to lunch and the long afternoon of the soul.

By three the day had cooled so that the door and windows were closed, and the heating turned up a notch, just in case.

For the evening there was Norwich on the telly, and Citeh on the radio. I wanted to listen to the Villa game, but it wasn't on the BBC, so Citeh it was, and were soon 2-0 down to an equally financially suspect PSG after just fifteen minutes.

It was 3-0 before half time, and Norwich did OK, until the second half were poor defending let Southampton in to score the only goal. It was an improvement, just. though five defeats in a row, and only a point above the drop zone.

Citeh lost 4-2, after improving after the break, but still, got to laugh.

Tuesday 13th October 2026

Tuesday, and phys comes round once again. Which means being up at five, and mucking in, we can do all our tasks before I leave for the gym at ten to six. It was still dark when I left, and the sports centre was getting pretty busy. But I found a place to park, and begin to listen to the latest Word podcast, which would see me through from leaving the car until I get back, including the fifty minutes cycling between.

The gym was pretty quiet, the pool busy, as usual.

By the time I was done, dawn had broken, but caused mist to rise, so the scene outside was blurry, as it was getting light.

Bad on the A2, but once I got back home the mist had cleared, and I was home safe and sound.

Which was nice.

Jools was off to the Riverside for the first of her classes. She made me a brew, so I could sit outside to cool down and drink the tea while sitting beside Scully.

Then a shave and shower, so that by ten, I was al clean and lovely.

It was time for my regular blood test and blood pressure check, so as soon as Jools came back at half ten, I was out in the car, to run chores at the vets, then into town to buy more allergy medicine.

I walked along the Dour from ASDA to the Town Hall, which was very pleasant in the now warm sunshine. At the bowls club, the grass was being cut, possibly for a new season.

And ten back to the surgery, getting back with ten minutes before my appointment. Maybe it was the 10,000 steps already done that morning, that my blood pressure was elevated, but other than that, I felt on top of the world.

So with words of thanks I left the surgery, walked back to the car and then back home.

Phew.

And so back home in time for lunch, and sitting in the garden to watch the birds on the feeders, squawking at each other in the way sparrows do.

Not much else to report, just the day chills again as the sun sinks low in the west, so dinner is prepared and cooked. I say prepare. I open the box and put the pizza in the oven.

So it goes.

For the evening there was Championship football on the tellybox, and Champion's League on the TV, with the sound turned down.

Monday 12th October 2026

The weeks fly by.

Its Monday again, but what does that mean anyway?

Needless to say, I was awake at twenty past five. I lay in for a few minutes, then am up.

When I back into the bedroom to get dressed, Cleo was there, deciding after months of not sleeping there, that this is now the place. So, making the bed would have to wait for later.

A day in which little happened. Jools went on a tip run and got a few things from Tesco and Lidl. I did whatever it was I was doing, maybe it was choosing a book to read, then sit on the top patio once the sun warmed up, and after ten, it was like summer again.

Lovely.

The birds are filling the hedge near the feeders, and hours can be spent watching them, or listening to their arguments.

The sun shone down from its low arc, soon very warm indeed.

The morning passed.

Lunch came, and we had our main meal, and all tidied up for a relaxing afternoon.

I do another search of the lawnmeadow for orchid rosettes, and find one of a Pyramidal, quite advanced, something I must have missed at the end of last week. So, we should have orchids next year, as long as there's not another drought.

Come three in the afternoon, and the sun sinks behind the hedge, and a chill builds, so sends me inside and to the thermostat to turn the heating on, even if its not really going to be that cold, even in the wee small hours.

Pastrami rolls with pickles and mustard for supper, and no booze for me as I have a blood test in the morning.

For the evening there was football, of course. Coventry v Newcastle, which was a good game, but I was tired, and decide to go to bed with 15 minutes to go, thus missing a goal from the Toon and two more from Cov, so ends 4-1.

Why bother?

On Sunday, Manchester City, aka Citeh, beat Liverpool 3-0 in the much anticipated "Super Sunday" game live on TV and radio.

Citeh are no top of the table having won all of their league games so far, and indeed the team performance was really strong, making the most of a man advantage almost straight away.

Citeh could go all the way and win the Premier League title again.

Or they might suffer a massive points deduction, or even expulsion from the PL into League 2.

Listening to the so-called pundits on TV and radio these last few days, not to mention Citeh fans, you would think that its all a bit too much, and due process is just annoying.

Without proper due process in the original hearing and consideration, as well as any appeals and the sanctioning, would leave Citeh room to appeal once again. The process will take as long as it takes.

Sadly.

The PL and other clubs would like this to be over by the end of the season, so to know who has won the league, and who will be relegated. Therefore it is in Citeh's interest to frustrate this.

And for clarification, let me restate that the appeal by Citeh cannot include any new evidence, and will be on matters of law or points of procedure. A cahallenge to either of those requires a very high bar to overtun one or more of the guilty charges.

I heard a Citeh fan state on the radio last night that the challenge to the High Court stands more chance of Citeh winning. This shows how little is understood, in that a challenge to the High Court on matters of law and/or procedure, requires an even higher bar to be cleared.

Not only that, in the High Court, statements made by witnesses for Citeh could be read out and the person(s) making those statement(s) be asked if they spoke truthfully, as the were at the orignal hearing. The difference here would be that they would be on oath, and making false statements to the court would be perjury, and likely to result in those making such false statements in prison. Very quickly.

These are very serious verdicts, and because the appendices are redacted thus far, we don't know the evidence or who said what, or who has been accused of making false statements.

For now until the process ends, the results and PL table are uncertain, and so whether this will affect the integrity of the competition, and worry commercial and broadcasting partners. What is certain, an unpunished Citeh, or a punishment that does not meet the seriousness of the findings, would cause more severe damage to the League's interity.

Wonko speaks

I am also Wonko. Wonko the Sane, as well as Jelltex.

I look out from inside the asylum to the outside and see the madness out there, and glad I am safe inside.

For some reason, views on this blog have increased ten-fold this week, and I have no idea why. But if you're a new reader, let me welcome you, and remind one and all that it always amazes me that anyone bar myself reads my prose.

It was good for the President of the USA to reveal this week what the J in his name is. It's Judas.

Having sold out Ukraine and Western Europe for two weeks deisel from Russia, now demanding there be elections in Ukrains as Russain drone rain down fire and brimstone.

Trump said some kind of truce had been agreed, where neither side would attack each other's energy installations. Neither Ukraine of Russia had been aware of this.

So Unkraine attacked several data centres, and the MAGA supporting bots on the hellsite that was Twitter fell 90%.

Anyway, welcome to the Asylum, head lunatic signing off.

Sunday 11th October 2026

Sunday.

And a lay in to six wouldn't happen. My brain waking me at twenty past five, so I lay awake until I hear the kettle on downstairs, as Jools makes coffee after sorting the cats out.

Another clear morning, with sunrise coming just after six once we were in the gym and pedalling, so that the newly risen sol cast stark shadows of us wearing our headphones against the white wall.

After working out, we drove into town to have breakfast. As is the way with family run places, and even though we don't go too often now, the waitress / co-owner remembers what we have wit us saying.

So that's good.

As was breakfast.

Not much to do this day, other than to have lunch and watch football. Though on the way home from the gym we went to see Jen, have a brew and a chat.

We should have done something outside, rather than sit and drink tea. But the morning was getting on, so other than have another shower and get changed, all ready for the Southampton v Portsmouth game.

After that there was preparing dinner, so that we could be all done for four and the start of the Liverpool v Citeh game.

The corn I bought Thursday had already gone off and mouldy, another one of those brexit benefits we were promised, I'm sure.

The game, when it started, was a disappointing one, with little happening in the first half, but in the second, once 'Pool had had a player sent off, Citeh took control and rattled in three goals to win easily.

In the evening I tried the rumtopf, which has been fermenting for four months, and will be great for Christmas. If I can resist having another swifter....

Saturday 10th October 2026

It am the weekend. Again.

Once upon a time, when dinosaurs ruled the earth, I used to be able to sleep in until ten in the morning. Sometimes into the afternoon.

But not any more.

Fifteen years in the Air Force, then almost weekly travel for work, having to catch the train to London at six in the mornings, means I am used to waking up early.

It was half five this morning. The alarm would have gone off at six anyway, but this gives me an extra half hour to wake up and prepare for phys.

No need for Tesco as I went on Thursday, so we could just go for phys, and come home and relax, drink a brew.

Which is what we did.

And also, this day saw the return of the kickyball, with the "joys" of Norwich on the tellybox at half twelve.

So during the morning, after a shower I made a huge pot of pasta salad, as I had bought yogurt instead of cottage cheese for Jools, so it needed using up.

So we have to eat early, so I could watch the game, I cooked breaded aubergine, taking half hour to prepare and ten minutes to fry. This is a recipe my first wide taught me, and is cheap, and full of flavour. And a single 69p aubergine can along with the pasta can provide a full meal.

In fact the pasta will do us for at least four meals, or as many until we get fed up with it.

And to the football:

I had high hopes for this season, after the fantastic second half of last season. But with another injury crisis, and those playing making basic mistakes, means this has been disappointing so far.

And even after going in at half time one up, City were so poor that half, with Swansea spurning a good half dozen golden chances, so it wasn't a surprise when Swansea came out turbo-charged after the break, and quickly scored two goals.

City had no answer.

But then the main games, with me listening to Radio 5 and watching the videoprinter on the BBC, for me it was a perfect afternoon. Scully lay beside me, sleeping happily.

The warmth of the day faded in the afternoon, so windows and doors closed, before the heating put on.

For the evening there was Manchester Utd v Tottenham, two clubs which have not had good starts, and a 1-1 draw pleases neither one, though Spurs scoring in injury time, means they'll be the more pleased of the two teams.

Thursday 8th October 2026

Thursday.

And later a return to summer, with warm temperatures and wall to wall sunshine.

Before then there was the early morning alarm, then to the gym at ten to six.

There is no light in the sky at five now, not until the end of the month when the clocks go back, but there is a chorus of cats, welcoming us back to the land of the living.

We get the tasks done, make coffee, so are ready for the phys.

We arrived at a minute past six, the queues had gone in, mostly to the pool, so we walked in and up, took position on the bikes and began to peddle.

I had an episode of The Bugle (Hello, Buglers) to listen to, and one that lasted 30 seconds under 50 minutes, so no excuse not to go all the way.

Which I do.

When we come out, the sun is just about to rise again, and its light illuminates the edges of clouds towering over northern France.

I take a shot.

Then back home before the rush, getting back and putting the kettle on.

Too cold for a moment to sit outside, so with supplies low, I volunteer to go to Tesco for the weekly shop.

There are lots of people of a certain age there, and others who seem to have no thought for the movement of others.

Halfway round I lose the shopping list, but I think I remembered all items. Then when loading the bags into the car, there was the list where I am sure I had looked.

No matter that I had forgotten kiwi fruit, as I was to call in at Lidl for their box of German beers, so bought the fruit and lunch, and was back home by ten.

I have a shower and shave, and happy with the thought no more early mornings until Tuesday, as weekend phys begins an hour later.

Sweet.

We have lunch, then sit in the garden until about half two, quarter to three, when the warmth suddenly leaves the sunlight on us on the bottom patio. So we make tracks back to the house, close the doors and windows, as it was going to be a chilly night.

Smoked haddock, mashed potatoes softened with the leftover milk and butter from the fish, fresh corn and creamed spinach for supper.

Was very good, as was the first bottle of German beer.

Then was the last football-free evening for four weeks, so read and was in bed by nine.

Phew.

Wednesday 7th October 2026

Wednesday.

And rain.

Though, once I had woken up by half six, and got up, the rain had not arrived.

In fact it was quite bright, or was by seven once the sun actually rose.

Jools didn't go to her early class once again, so we could have a very chilled start to the day.

Once she left to pick up Jill, so I was alone, I dashed round the garden taking snaps, so to have something for shot of the day, the 3,567th shot of the day, since the beginning of January 2017.

And I thought that the first yard was hard, this is the tenth year!

The garden is still a riot of colour, marigolds are back in flower, as is both the lavender and passion fruit. The latter a thug that no matter how hard we try, can't be killed.

By mid-morning the rain arrived, and on Chez Jelltex it did fall.

Not much to say about what else we did for the rest of the day. Listened to pods, drank coffee and watched the raindrops run down the windows.

In fact it got so chilly, be broke and put the heating on, just to pump the heating round, and make the house warmer.

The cats will just have to get used to having the windows closed, so all four will have to use the single cat flap.

I'm sure they'll work it out just fine.

Supper was doritos with fresh salsa verde and sour cream, which was pretty darn good. Jen keeps giving us the green tomatoes a neighbour of hers leaves on her door handle.

But it is now two whole days before club football returns, two whole evenings without it, and no internationals either, just the debate about Citeh to pass the long, dull hours.

Heck, I even go to bed at eight, try to read but get tied. I'm sound by nine.

Tuesday 6th October 2026

It is the end of the first week of October, and to be honest, it's like the first week of September.

We have had our windows open since we returned from France, and only in the last week has it be what you might call cool at nights.

More interestingly, is that we have had no autumnal storms, or blows, as yet. And looking forward to the two week long range forecast to the 20th, there's none expected.

Neither has there been any Atlantic hurricanes, the remains of which we get here and cause chaos, but are just deep depressions by the time they get here to the UK.

Saying that, after the 7th, temperatures are expected to drop, and as I write this we have closed the windows and put the heating on.

Tuesday.

As Jools has a painful foot, so didn't go to her classes, instead came with me to the gym, so after getting up at five, we double tag so that we are all done and ready to leave at ten to six.

We do fifty minutes, and when I come out, a slight mist had risen over the farmland to the south, the sky golden, and in a few minutes the sun rose.

What a glorious morning.

So, back home for breakfast and brews, and to ponder what to do with the day.

Not much was the answer.

It was warm enough to sit outside, reading the rest of WSC with Scully snoozing beside me.

The afternoon slips by, I have no idea once again what I did, but took all afternoon to do it, before it was time for supper.

Chicken with lots of veggies, as we had been a little lacking in fibre for a couple of days.

And then, there was football.

England's 4th and final game of the international break, and ended up an easy with against the Czechs at Wembley, with Kane scoring is 90th and 91st goals for his country in a record-equalling 125th appearance.

Not bad for a former Norwich striker.

Monday 5th October 2026

One Friday, about two weeks back, I went past Dover Castle on the way into town, and saw there were no buses or coaches parked up, meaning the castle would be quiet.

At the weekend I suggested to Jools we might go Monday, and she agreed.

Needless to say, I forgot, helped in this by the nearly ten hours sleep I got Sunday night, and laying in to nearly seven.

I felt great.

For once.

I had coffee, as did Jools. She had been up since five, waiting on hand on foot to the felines.

So it was we had a quiet build up before leaving for Dover at half nine, as I wanted to call in at Lidl to see if they had the box of Octoberfest beers I had seen advertised.

They hadn't, but spent fifteen quid on nine bottles of the cheap as chips tripel, and two trial bottles of Weissbier at £1.29 a half litre.

Then to the castle, arriving just as it opened at ten, so able to drive up to the car park, on the way we saw just one coach, from Berlin, so there would be fifty over-excited Teutonic teens, but its a big castle.

We showed our membership cards and weree allowed in, the first thing I hoped to see were the Red-billed choughs that since being released nearby, have taken up residence in the Roman Pharos.

Imagine our joy to see, once we had climbed up the the foot of the lighthouse, that inside were indeed a pair of Choughs, the sunlight illuminating their beaks.

Whilst all around the Choughs were in dogfights with Jackdaws, both cawing at each other, though the Choughs could easily outfly their cousins.

We watched them for half an hour, on the rise behind the church and lighthouse, behind the steep drop down to the port and the Channel.

To the keep!

A short walk to the ramp leading to the inner Baily, where we were greeted by a stout fellow, hearty and well me, who went by the fabulous name of Titus, though his surname wasn't Andronicus!

We talked for five minutes before climbing into the keep, up past the small chapel, and into the throne room, all decked out in bright colours, as it would have been in our old friend, Henry II's day.

Behind the thrones was a staircase, up to the roof of the keep, with stunning views of the town and harbour far below, and along the downs either side.

The light breeze cooled us down after the climb up and round the spiral staircases that lead us ever upwards.

Down the other side, down another spiral staircase, which I can't help but take many pictures off as side passages joined and lead off.

Through the dining room, down another spiral stair to the kitchens, all alive with recorded sounds of an army of cooks and helpers preparing a feast.

And into the inner courtyard, now to find the recently reopened mediaeval tunnels.

If I remembered correctly, through the gate nearby, down the slope and into the outer courtyard, should be it.

It was, but it has all been rebuilt, with a new entrance room lading to the steps down.

Three more fine fellows greeted us, and I was wearing a Norwich top, we talked football for ten minutes, where conversation turned to Citeh, obviously.

The steps lead to a steeply sloping tunnel, which after rounding a corner lead to a caponier, lined with canon and canonettes, just as we remembered it.

Then up some steps, along another sloping tunnel linking the ancient with the Georgian, another caponier, before up a final set of steps, leading back into the bright sunlight.

An area that has not been previously be open to the public, running beside Castle Hill to the junction with Reach Road.

We stopped for ten minutes on a bench, and delighted in seeing third generation Small copped in flight, and males fighting on the wing.

Again, it was almost hot, and getting near to dinner time, So we walked down the slope, back to the inner courtyard, then to the car park and to home.

And once home I cook a quick snack of burger, but no fries. And no beer.

Which left the warm afternoon to sit outside and enjoy the sun as it moved westwards before sinking low, as then did the temperatures.

We had a snack for supper, then I pondered whether to watch the Northern Ireland game on TV, but chose to go to bed at half eight instead.

It were dark.