Wednesday 3rd September 2025

I went to high school at the height of punk. I loved the music, but to fit in I said I loved ELO.

In fact I loved ELO and punk. And disco. And lots more.

I can't remember who it was in my group of friends who taught us Bridge, but our form of rebellion was to retire to the physics labs and play very poor bridge.

It was there one afternoon that our form tutor, Mr Skeats, found us. And said that if we were going to play bridge, we had better learn the basics.

So, one lunchtime a week, he gave up his free time to teach us how to play. Slightly better.

We even invented a form of the game when there was just three of us, so keen were we to play this. Bridge surpassed Dungeons and Dragons as our game of choice.

Fast forward a decade and I joined the Royal Air Force, and games were an important part once basic and trade training were completed. We had an hour for lunch, and crew rooms were echo to the sound of dice being rolled for Uckers, or cards being dealt as played Hunt (Chase the Lady), Nom or Bridge.

Bridge requires four people who know how to play, and getting four in the sections I worked in whilst serving in the RAF was quite easy.

Outside of that, it proved to be impossible.

Almost.

One holiday in the Scottish Borders at a farm house, an Army Major his wife and son asked me to join in Bridge, and his withering comments to his wife as another contract crashed and burned stay with me to this day.

So. I can play bridge to an simple "rough" standard, but have not been able to play in the twenty years since I left the services in 2005.

And then a mail went out in our U3A group, that places in the Bridge group were open, so I applied and got in. They don't teach from scratch, but said they would be kind.

Bridge is a form of Whist wit "knobs on". A bidding phase before a card is played, helps inform your partner what you have in your hand, what they have in theirs, and for you to form a contract to make X many tricks with a suit as trumps or no trumps as a fifth choice.

Once the contract is made, the game is then like Whist, only that the person who made the contract plays both hands, with their partner laying their hand down on the table for all the see as a "dummy".

Scully vanished, so the plan to test her blood sugars every hour went out the window. Again. Tomorrow she will be shut in the porch so not to miss the tests.

Which meant I could go to the bridge, and Jools could go to her keep fit, hair cut and other appointments.

I dropped her off in town at eight. School run and rush hour are back, though Dover's own version of it. We made it just in time.

I drive back along Reach Road so to avoid the traffic at the Duke of York's roundabout, and because it would be pleasant.

Or would have been had the sun been shining and the wind not already touching 40 mp/h.

It was good to get home. make a brew and have breakfast. But already it was nearing time to leave.

The club usually have at least two tables going, and meets in member's houses. I have not been in many houses that have room for two tables in one room, not without removing all the furniture first.

This weeks host lives near Walmer Castle, so not far to drive, and traffic had died down by nine.

I was first to arrive, the host showed me in, and I saw at least one in the house was a photographers with prints covering two walls with at least four decades of shots.

The other six arrived, we shook hands as we were introduced. My brain immediately dump the names in the trash can, never to be recalled. But the host was called Yoko, and found I had no trouble remembering that.

Rules were gone over, and the plan for the day. Pre-dealt hands, bidding boxes showing the history for each game, and two tables, four chairs at each.

I remembered some, and won the first hand I won the bidding for, but later made a miscounting error on another.

So it goes.

Jools texts me to say she is on a train heading to Walmer, I reply that she get off at Martin Mill, and as the school was breaking up anyway, I made my excuses and left.

Doing a three point turn in the road, back onto the main road and the few miles through Ringwould to the crossroads, then down the hill to Martin Mill.

Three minutes later the train rolled in, and Jools got off.

Into the car and up the hill, crossing the Deal Road to home. Feed the cats and then think about dinner: Cornish pasties straight out of the wrapper with a big fresh brew.

The wind blew, clouds fled across the sky, but the four hours of thunder and lightning once again failed to happen. No matter how hard we stared at the storm radar.

I make fajitas again, as they went down so well last time, and as it was a booze day, poured one of the new beers: the Imperial Blond, and how well it went with the spicy food.

Again no football, just the wind dropping, but still blowing enough to make the curtains billow and knock the phone out of its cradle.

Health matters

Since I was became an adult, I had (UK) size 9 feet.

Until I didn't.

Changes come slowly, but soon nine was too tight, ten would do.

Then eleven.

I thought my legs were red because of a returning infection, cellulitis, but it wasn't until last year the chiropractor said it was down to poor circulation.

How easy it is to spend 8 hours a day sitting at the dining room tale, working, then my hobby is stuff online too. I became old before my time, or my lower half did.

Thanks to the restrictions during COVID, I put on more weight and I got elephant legs below my knees.

Not only were they swollen from retaining water, but the skin became very thin, meaning the slightest knock would cause a large cut with would weep for weeks, and needed careful treatment.

This came to a head in India, where when we flew back to Delhi the state of my legs and poor breathing made me really think I might not make it.

I had tests for the breathing, and that cleared up within a week of returning, but I am convinced this was a result of the temperatures, sitting down for most days and retaining even more water.

So, upon return, the need to be more active was all the more urgent, and if I am honest, the improvement in time spent in the gym has not been quick enough. Not helped by the five weeks the main gym closed. And the ineffective air conditioning on the really hot days.

It is now September. Children have gone to school. We are going to the gym more often, and for longer. And at the weekend I got thin legs back.

My walking gait is better, and the injury to me knee and ankle from last year are (mostly) a thing of the past. Jools says she has noticed how better my movement is now.

Not my youthful legs, but maybe back to the point they were six years back, thin enough so that my shoes are mostly too big now, and water is no retained swelling them back up.

I am off the booze at least two days a week now, and chocolate, bisuits and the such will be cut back. I don't think its booze per se, its wine.

Wine is so easy to drink, doubly so when its in boxes, and you just have "one more glass". A full bottle may have up to 14 units of alcahol in it, whereas a bottle of beer might only be two. Or less. I can drink most of a bottle of wine with dinner, so, best not to for a while, until I can moderate.

To wrap up. Despite the recent blood tests, I have not felt better in years. I have pain free legs, I am able to walk more, though standing is something to be worked at. My body is not retaining water, I feel a bit more flexible, and this all should spur me on to be even more active.

We shall see.

Tuesday 2nd September 2025

Second day of autumn, and the wild and wet weather arrived.

Though it was not forecasted, the rain did pour and the wind blew, meaning I did not go out of the back door until much later.

Jools had to go to Canterbury for her MRI, the follow up on last week's test results. I did not go, so stayed to wash up and have breakfast and keep an eye on Scully.

Clouds covered the blue sky, it got cold, and the wind increased.

And then the rain came, lashing down from the west, giving me a real battle with the door screen to close the door to stop the rain getting in.

I should have just taken it down straight away, but battled and got the door closed in the end.

Day turned to night, and the rain came down harder.

Only to stop just before midday when Jools came back, with tales of traffic jams and school runs. A 15 mile return trip with a few minutes waiting had taken nearly four hours.

We go to Tesco.

Braving the masses, with clearly some children not back at school or playing hooky.

At the tills, mothers were clutching armfuls of new uniform for their little loves.

We pay and escape.

So it goes.

I have a backlog of podcasts and videos to follow, so after lunch of antipasto and fresh bread with squash not beer or wine, we retreated to our hobbies.

A courier brings me a fresh consignment of beer, mostly Chimay Bleu, and those aged in brandy or Armagnac casks. These will be saved for a "special occasion", and bearing mind there are nine bottles of consecutive vintages that are also waiting for a special occasion, it would appear I will spend that day under the table.

Outside, bright sunshine alternated with heavy showers, so I watched a video from the cab of a train traveling to Carlisle from Leeds. Nearly three hours relaxation, with podcasts playing in the background.

Dinner was marinated line caught Alaskan salmon, all Tesco stuff was farmed in Scotland, fresh corn (again), creamed spinach (again), and some Mediterranean grains.

A quiet day, and yet it too all day to get it done.

We went to bed with the wind blowing chill through the house, and the promise of thunder on the morrow.

We shall see.

Plans and the suchlike.

This month sees the 20th anniversary of me leaving the RAF. So much has happened in those decades, most of which has been detailed in posts in this blog.

There has been down, and there has been ups.

But I think we are now at the point of claiming victory over the sleep/work/eat/sleep cycle.

And as I said before, we know how lucky we are.

We have gone from being cash rich/time poor to cash richish/time rich. So much so that we have to think carefully how we are going to spend both.

In the last two or so years, our plans for travel to places like New Zealand and Mexico have been gazumped by Svalbard, Italy and India. At least, so we hope to make a list of places we want to go.

Having said that, other things have jumped the queue, so we're doing those first.

First up is an early Spring trip to Cypress so I can go orchid hunting. Both Jools and Jen are coming along for the holiday, but not the orchids. We will be out there for about ten days. Its all booked, along with the flights.

In August, there is an eclipse in Spain. We have been planning for at least a year, and waited for month to hear from a hotel Jools found. We got fed up waiting, I checked on a well-known hotel portal, and found one on the line of totality. And they had rooms.

So, I thought I'd try to book direct, and was shocked to find the same room was being offered at £41,000 per night. Jools tried and got the same price! So we booked through the portal, and its all confirmed too.

That brings us to the third, or maybe a part of the previous trip, as we could combine them into a mega three-week vacation in southern France and northern Italy. I am going on a summer orchid trip in the French Alps, that is booked too. But instead of flying, we will drive down in our car again.

So, hope that whets your appetites.

Before then, we will be having a kitchen of distinction!

This is all now agreed with the supplier of the units and the builder who is going to fit them and make good the walls and ceilings. Centrepiece will be an American-style double fridge-freezer, so the utility room has been designed around this large piece of white goods.

This month will be filled with church visits, and at the end of the month I will be attending the national monument for those from the RAF Armourment Trade who have been lost. Beers might also be drunk.

We shall see.

Monday 1st September 2025

A new week and a new month.

And for the most part, children in Kent go back to school today, so return of the rush hour and school run.

We were up early to have coffee before going to the gym, only for me to find both my machines of torture of choice were both occupied.

I did some reps on the elliptical trainer then on a machine similar to the bike, but this had extensions for working your arms, and struck either my knees or elbows unless I was very careful.

There was no urgent need to do a shop Monday, so back home for breakfast and coffee, then relax.

I had a shower whilst Jools went into town, the cats busy sleeping around the house.

Leftovers for lunch, chicken, salad and a packet of grains did enough, so that come two we were ready for cards.

Some days John is in better moods than others, and he has a sharp tongue. Unless he wants something, as he wanted something, it was quite pleasant as we played, and the sudden and heavy rain showers bounced off the Perspex roof above the table.

Jools and Jen win, so most are happy. Even John.

Back home at half four, expecting the worse in respect of traffic, but nothing too bad.

Back home I make some unleavened bread dough again, and whilst I wait for the wheatgerm to do its thing, I wander into the garden to snap some colour in the late afternoon sunshine.

I divide the dough in two, roll and stretch half our so it is see-through, then lay in a oiled tray, spready with very soft Italian cheese, roll and stretch the second half, lay on top. Oil and salt, then bake for half an hour.

The bread came out like a large savoury biscuit, super crunchy, but creamy with the cheese. Perfect to go with the Caprese I prepared.

We ate all the bread, just about perfect after the salad.

And so another day faded outside, and the first of the overnight showers fell.

Sunday 31st August 2025

You take photographs, could you take some of us swimming?

So asked Ange.

Which is why we were up at six on a Sunday morning, and down on the beach at the harbour before seven, me giving them both instructions on where to swim from and to, all before the clouds rolled in from the west.

We at at the foot of the sea wall, the morning light showing warm against our faces, but with clouds in the west, the low sun made the contrast between the houses on the Prom and the incoming storm all the more stark.

First run, a float bag that Sean has, bright orange, distracted in every shot.

So with clouds gathering, he took it off, they went back out a hundred yards, turned and swam to me.

Anyway, this was the best shot out of 665 taken, with them near the shore and nearly in sync. And the light still being warm from sunrise.

The did another circuit, while I began to look at the shots, but already the clouds driven hard by a keen westerly was dropping the first spots of rain.

As it fell harder, I walked back up the the car, dried the camera off and waited for the others. After hugging and wishing each other well, as the schools go back on Monday, we leave in opposite directions, us back to Townwall Street and up Jubilee Way to home.

Back home then for breakfast and brews. The rain now was coming down hard, but only for a few minutes, and soon cleared.

The light sparkled now the dust has been washed out of it.

I sat in the garden a while with Scully, the garden quickly drying around us.

But more excitement was to come, as we were to meet another friend, Andy, in Ramsgate at two, and as I had to meet the keyholder of the church hall I will be using for the churchcrawling group at midday, we left the house at quarter to eleven, finding a place to park off The Strand in Walmer.

The service had yet to end, so thin voices sang along with the last hymn, the Victorian organ in St Saviours sounding bombastic in contrast to the voices.

The service ended, so I saw maybe 30 people in attendance, in the twin towns with so many churches, I didn't think was bad.

I met the keyholder, she made it all so simple, so we shook hands and would meet on the 10th.

I come out and try to find Jools. I see her sitting at a bench. So I go to a shop to buy ice creams, then cross The Strand to sit with her to eat the ices quick, whilst looking at the beach huts and stony beach with the Channel beyond, while above the dramatic cloudscape kept on moving.

As the main road through Sholden was closed, and had been for weeks, we drove back to Whitfield then out back along the Sandwich road before crossing the Great Stour onto Thanet and into Ramsgate, parking down near the beach, under the shadows of the huge revetments holding the chalk cliffs back.

Just along is where a branch line to Ramsgate Beach station emerged from a steep tunnel, with barely enough room for a station and turntable. That closed in the 1920s, and the tunnel made into a tourist attraction with a small train running part way up.

Then in 1940, the tunnels were repurposed into air raid shelters, new tunnels with bunks being dug, so much of the townspeople could sleep safe as the bombs dropped.

Andy was on a tour of the tunnels, and would meet us at two, so we had 45 minutes, and suddenly we were hungry, so we went to a café.

We took a table inside, as I saw clouds and rain sweeping across Pegwell Bay, glad we did as soon those at tables outside were running in to take shelter as the heavens opened once again.

The food was fine, but expensive.

We walk back to meet Andy, they had walked miles by all accounts. So we ambled back down the prom, thinking of going into the UK's largest 'Spoons, but I spy an Belgian bar opposite in one corner of the old London Restaurant building.

Two bottles of Delirium tremens had our heads spinning and feeling much better.

With more rain on the way, we take Andy to Ramsgate station, so he could get back to London. Jools drove because of Belgian beer.

Then to home, via Sandwich and the Eastry by-pass, getting back in plenty of time for the "big" game on "Super" Sunday. Liverpool v Arsenal, which should have been a cracker, but wasn't, but Liverpool won the dour game with a world class free kick in the last ten minutes.

I make buttermilk chicken for supper, and with corn and creamed spinach. That was good.

And what is this: Sunday evening football? Aston Villa lost 3-0 to Palace, and I have no idea what this all means. Other than its now international break, so not much footy until Thursday or Friday.

Saturday 30th August 2025

It am the weekend.

Jools had decided she wanted to try kayaking. Having done this once, I was good.

I would wander Grove Ferry Reserve at the same time.

The morning was not helped by me sleeping in to twenty to eight, meaning lots to do before leaving the house at half eight.

I had, at least, charged the camera battery the evening before, just had to remember to take the right lenses.

Traffic was a bit mad, but we made it to the Sandwich Road, then cruise along to the by-pass before heading across the marshes to Preston and beyond to Grove Ferry.

It was a glorious morning: bright sunshine and light winds, but that would soon change.

Jools checked in at the paddling place, I then wandered off over the road into the reserve.

I am desperate to see Bearded Reedlings, I have heard their chirping in the past, and maybe got a glimpse, but never a shot.

Along the track, stopping to take in the views at the raptor viewing point, then along to the hide.

Which was rammed.

One guy made room for me, so I could take shots of the birds in front of us. Nothing exciting until a Cormorant landed to dry its wings, then a Kingfisher landed on the dead branch in front of the hide, giving me grandstand views.

The best I have had of this spectacular bird.

Soon after a Marsh Harrier cruised by, then hovered for a moment, before dropping into the reeds for prey, unseen, at least by us.

I felt I had done enough in the hide, so made my excuses and left, walking a little bit further on before starting the walk back to the car so to be there at half ten when Jools should have finished.

Not much seen or heard, certainly no Reedlings, sadly. I did spot a Peacock butterfly basking, so snapped that with the big lens.

No sign of Jools back at the car, so I drove round to the paddling cabin to wait. It was then that I noticed the greasy spoon.

Suddenly, I was hungry.

So I walked up to the shed, ordered a sausage and bacon roll, and seeing Jools was back, a cheeseburger for her.

She was drenched, having fallen into the river when she was trying to get out of the kayak, but she was laughing about it.

We sat at a picnic table to eat, the warm sunshine drying her out somewhat. We ate well, then walked back to the car to drive back over the marshes to Ash then Sandwich and so to home.

Back home with little drama, in time for the football, though there were chores to do first.

The afternoon was a mix of watching and listening to football. And preparing dinner.

Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and unleavened stuffed focaccia, which again was a triumph.

Norwich win away at Blackburn, who had a plater sent off.

Happy days.

We ate whilst I had an eye on the evening game on the tellybox and Stuart spun discs on the wheels of steel, and read out a request from me, but will play the song maybe next weekend.

Dark by eight now.

Feels and looks autumnal.