Saturday 11th October 2025

On Friday I thought I had the flu beaten.

Then came Friday night, and a cough I just could not shake, or stop.

Sleep was impossible, so I got up at half two, made a brew, fed Scully and watched videos silently on YouTube.

Time went slowly.

Jools got up.

We had coffee.

Cats fed, Scully tested and jabbed.

I drove to Preston just before sunrise, to get some steak for dinner, as we had mushrooms to use up.

I drove to Deal, along the Strand before heading inland to Sandwich then over what used to be marshes to Preston.

I was the first customer, needless to say. I bought steam, smoked ribs and minted lamb, but that was all as next week the kitchen and utility room will be emptied, fridge/freezer included ready for the new units being put in starting on the 20th.

On the way back I stop to take shots of a pumpkin patch as its nearly Halloween, but no Charlie Brown.

Back home we have breakfast and listen to the radio, but truth is I'm no fit state to do much, and with the international break there's little football on for me to take my mind off being ill.

Though there was football on at three, and I watched Gillingham v Cheltenham, which remained 0-0 until three minutes from time, and ended 1-1 with The Gills scoring with the last kick of the game.

I cook dinner, and is pretty good. And open a bottle of the Chimay Grande Reserve I got last month, the 2020 vintage.

It was stunning, and as Jools and I talked, I drained the whole bottle.

We go upstairs at six to listen to a podcast, and soon after I drop off to sleep.

Friday 10th October 2025

Man flu: day three.

Coming out the other side.

Or so I hope.

I woke at nearly eight in the morning. Jools had put all the bins out before going to yoga.

I just had to get myself up and make coffee.

Which I manage.

Just.

So much for going to the gym this morning. Too much sleep, and soon the coughing restarted.

Bugger.

I make a second brew, and as usual, Jools has heard the kettle boiling and arrives back home.

After breakfast, Jools does some gardening, while I have a shower ready to go out.

It was the second visit of my churchcrawling group, and I would be taking the group to St Augustine's Abbey before walking up the hill to St Martin.

I had been honest with the members about the ten minute walk from the car park to the church, and then several steps up to St Martin, so half the group said they wouldn't be attending, then two more bailed during the week. One that morning, so I hoped the two remaining would turn up.

Back into Canterbury, but this time sticking to the speed limit, parking opposite the Abbey entrance.

There was time to find a place for a snack, but the café we usually went to had closed in August. But one thing you're not short of in Canterbury is a place to eat.

Two right turns brought me back to Longport, and a cafe offering 12 choices, at least, of set breakfasts.

I settled for sausage and bacon baguette and a mug of builder's tea.

I looked at my watch, eeek, I should have been at the Abbey.

I pay and walk out, and there is a lady pacing up and down. She sees me a waves.

Her husband is there too, which means the whole group, the three of us, had arrived.

We go into the Abbey and we look at and through the ruins of the Abbey church, before walking over to the ruin of St Pancras, a church built from recycled Roman bricks, though just one wall and the east wall of the Chancel still stand, though the brilliance of the craftsman could still be admired.

On the wall of the Apse of the Abbey, traces of wall painting could still be made out, having lasted almost 1,000 years.

We were done in an hour, so had a drink from the shop, then sat outside talking, which was al very pleasant.

At quarter to three, we walk up the hill to St Martin, as beside us rush hour traffic built.

I had arranged a tour, which I didn't realised meant that the church closed, and we had the church to ourselves, along with our guide.

After entering, the gates to the porch were closed, and the church was ours.

For an hour.

Our guide talked us through the history of the Kentish Saxon Kings, and that of Queen Bertha and the return of Christianity to fair Albion.

We swapped bits of history and features the other didn't know, which was a surprise.

A small window in the west wall was described a a "squint for leppers".

As there was a large lepper hospital the other side of the city, I thought this unlikely, and perhaps was a window for an anchorite's cell, a thing the guide had not heard of before.

We walked round the church, features and stories pointed out, and so in an hour we were done.

A walk round the outside of the church, seeing the Roman bricks that were used in the church's construction.

And we were done.

We walk back down to the car park, say goodbye, and we leave.

In order to avoid the traffic on the Old Dover Road, I went left the city on the Sandwich Road, but encountered yet more roadworks and roads closed.

I thought i would go via Deal, and find a chippy with parking outside, so I could get tea.

On the Strand there were parking spaces, so I nipped over to buy battered sausage and chips for two, the scuttled back to the car and home.

Jools had made brews, so we sat down to eat, getting through barely half the mountain of chips.

Jools now has the cold/flu, so we went to bed early full of drugs in the hope we might sleep.

Thursday 9th October 2025

I have flu.

Third degree man flu.

And had less than three hours sleep.

I was barely able to speak.

Jools is fine, a loving Florence Nightingdroid, making me teas, snacks and bringing me more tissues when needed.

All in all, I was a sad little man.

In contrast, the weather was glorious, a throwback to hight summer, with the sun just too warm to sit out in, and light winds to cool a hot cat down.

My body went from ice cold, to just under boiling.

Jools worked in the garden, so I sat with Scully looking on at the glory that is our garden, and the views to the village beyond.

I am not really hungry, but eat with Jools to be sociable, if I'm honest.

In the afternoon, a fresh looking Peacock butterfly is basking and feeding, and stayed long enough for me to go inside, get my camera, switch lenses, and walk back.

And it was still there.

So I snapped it, and again when it landed high in the hedge.

I cook fajitas for dinner. We've been going to have them all week, but not hungry enough when it came to the evening meal, so we had snacks.

For the evening there was football.

International football: England v Wales in a friendly. I really should have gone to bed, but I sit up, and England romp to a 3-0 lead in twenty minutes, then miss a series of chances.

It ends, 3-0. I go to bed, dog, dog tired.

My congestion had gone, so I slept well.

And long.

Wednesday 8th October 2025

I woke up with a cough.

In fact I had been barking like a dog all night, so slept little.

I didn't yet feel like shit, but that would come later.

It was a day off from the gym anyway, but due to the coughing, there was no lay in.

Jools went to keep fit, so I stayed here, keeping an eye on Scully and the rest.

But as the day wore on, I felt worse.

Jools returned at ten, so we had a late breakfast, then two hours later I make lunch, because I felt I should eat before I went to the physio.

I made garlic and herb chicken, with crispy slices of bacon rolls.

OK, the sandwich so thick you could hardly get your mouth round it, but it was darn tasty.

Then off to Canterbury for the physio appointment.

It began a few weeks back when I won at cards, I raised my arms in celebration like I had won the Queen stage of Le Tour, only for my left arm to register pain and then pins and needles.

I have had this in my right before, and got to live with it, but in both arms?!

Now, I very nearly got caught for speeding along the A2, I undertook a BMW that was hogging the outside lane, and he sped up to keep up with me.

Beyond the traffic lights at Lydden, I went faster, probably doing 80. A VW van then zoomed past me doing at least 100, followed soon after by a Volvo estate.

The driver of the Volvo then switched on the blues and twos, and the van was pulled over.

That could easily have been me.

I slowed down anyway, and still make it to the surgery with half an hour to spare.

I go in, and indeed I have done the same thing to my left arm as I did to my right. I thought I was going to get away without being pummelled, but no.

I was given a remedial program of stretches and exercises, but allowed to leave.

I drove to Waitrose, then out past St Augustine's, St Martin's and finally the hospital before getting back to the countryside.

I was feeling quite sorry for myself, and though that a farm shop with lots of goodies to buy would do the trick.

Which is why I ended up at Gibson's Farm Shop, where I bought two expensive slices of cheesecake, two cheese scones and some cider for Jools.

Then back in the car, drove to Sandwich before taking the coast road through Deal and Walmer to home.

Nowhere to park for a shot of the day. Anyway I was feeling pretty rough, my eyes not focussing well, so it came as a relief when I turned into the village and reached home.

We had coffee and cheesecake, which did perk me up, but the coughing got worse, as did the sneezing.

Cheese scones for supper at six, and to bed at seven as I was so cold.

Though sleep would take several hours to come.

Tuesday 7th October 2025

Fungi.

Without fungi, the world as we know it, wouldn't be possible. In a year we'd be neck high in dead leaves, and nothing to break them down.

In the past we have gone out fungi have gone looking for them, and been partially successful.

One of the species I want to see, is the family called Waxcaps, specifically, Parrot Waxcaps, and last year I remember them being found in the churchyard of Doddington near Faversham.

So once we were up. And I was up oh my word early. Half five the first alarm went off, me sliding out of bed at quarter to six, then downing a coffee, before heading out to the sports centre at quarter past six.

This was because Jools needed the car for eight, to go out to a class she has joined.

You might be interested to hear I cycled round Budapest for forty minutes, then quickly cleaning down the bike, scuttling down the stairs and out to the car and home before the school run began in earnest.

I was back at half seven. Jools was in the shower, so I sat on the patio with Scully in the warm early morning sunshine.

Jools left, and I stayed where I was for another half hour before going inside to wash up, prepare breakfast and see what the world had in store.

When Jools had come back, and we had eaten breakfast and supped our brews. I suggested going to look for the waxcaps. There have been plenty of shots online, not from Doddington, but seemed peak season to me.

So we drove to Whitfield, along the A2 past Canterbury to Faversham, only to find the "main" road to Doddington closed to traffic for repairs.

Would doubled back where a sign had said there would be diversion signs.

Only the signs ran out, and I followed the sat nav back to the point were the roadworks should have started.

Although there were signs saying the road was closed across the road, no sign.

We doubled back and retraced our route, then followed the sat nav again only to find the road closed there as well.

So far this had taken us half an hour for a journey that should have taken five minutes.

Jools punched the destination into Google Maps, and that guided us beyond Newnham, where more signs declared the road ahead closed.

We chanced it, reached the foot of Church Hill, went up and into the churchyard.

45 minutes late.

So we searched the churchyard and graveyard extension, but only found some tiny brown fungi, which may have been my target species, just so old they lost their green colour.

We went into the church, I rattled a load of shots because I love Doddington, not least for its dedication: The Beheading of St John the Baptist.

And inside there was a painting of The Head of St John the Baptist on a platter, Herodias and Salome, Salome topless.

I can't remember this from previous visits.

Anyway, we were hungry, so we drove back down the hill and along to Chequers Hill to the Chequers pub for lunch.

We both had fine baguettes: mine with sausages and onion gravy, while Jools had peppered steak.

And a portion of the best pub chips I have had.

For me a pint of Late Red washed it down rather well. I noticed a sign opposite the pub pointing to St Catherine at Kingsdown (near Sittingbourne).

Last time here there were unfriendly signs everywhere, and as I was by myself, I didn't linger, but with Jools to sit in the car ready to move it in case the new owners o the Old rectory might complain.

They didn't. And so I walked through the long grass, up to the porch and entered the only complete Anglican church AW Pugin designed.

It is out of the way, down a dead end lane, and rarely visited, even though it is in the care of the CCT, so open from ten to four each day.

I took shots of the glass and monuments, and the ancient tiles on one side of the dead fire in the vestry.

Back to Jools in the car. This time we drove to Stalisfield, then down the hill to the A20, with fabulous views as the road wound down the down to the main road.

Into Ashford, onto the M20 and back home.

Scully had not been tested since breakfast, but neither had she been fed, and was fine. We did give her some food and she was happy enough.

Supper was peanuts and Cheeselets with beer/cider, as darkness fell outside.

I tried to watch some EFL Trophy football, but the ground was almost empty, and I was pooped.

Monday 6th October 2025

I have seen ads on the back of buses and online regarding Asian Hornets, and various organisations wanting sightings of them to be reported.

Even still, even I was stunned by Monday's turn of events.

It all started with sleeping in to seven, and getting up and the usual.

I have kept my old work mobile number, so do get spam calls or stuff from agencies, so when the phone rang at just before nine, I thought nothing of it.

I picked up the call, and I could hear background voices: a call centre.

But no.

Is that Ian, a lady asked.

Yes.

Are you the Ian who reported the Asian Hornet yesterday?

Yes.

We are half an hour away, have you still got the wasp?

Yes.

So it was that at quarter to ten, two ladies and two gentlemen from the Ministry arrived, and in their electric car they had vials, tubes and lots of paperwork.

I went to say hello and give them the late wasp.

It was put into a test-tube of fluid, so it can be DNA tested to see if its from any known nests.

I took her to meet Di and Steve, and they recounted their tale, pointed to the vent the hornet was coming out of when they nabbed it.

Pheromone traps were place in Di's garden, and all around the area up to 500m distance, and we were told they would come back daily to check.

Heck.

Jools arrived back from swimming halfway through this, with people putting up bait traps on lamp posts and the like.

After an hour they left, but amazed at how one small-ish wasp/hornet caused all this.

Its just how serious the problem is, if the Hornets migrate north as Ivy Bees have done.

I went for a walk round the neighbourhood to try to find the traps or other hornets.

I saw neither.

We had little to eat for lunch, so we decided that we should have lunch out.

I drove us into Deal, though two sets of roadworks.

It was a glorious day: no clouds, blue skies, warm sun and light breezes. It was just like summer, but without people or traffic.

Just how we like it.

We parked up, and were going to walk to a pub along the Strand, when a Mexican place jumped out in front of us.

Mex-on-the-Beach was almost empty, but we could smell garlic prawns, and it was that that lured us in.

I had a small dish of nachos, followed by a pulled pork burrito, whilst Jools had the prawns followed by a burger.

It was dame fine food, and we were stuffed afterwards. So much so that the walk along the pier turned into a waddle across the road, take pictures and waddle back to the car.

I drove us home.

It was more than warm enough to sit on the patio, surrounded by three out of four cats, while the birds chirped about how I should really be refilling the feeders.

There was no dinner or supper, and I was so tired I went to bed at half seven, and was asleep by nine. Not before Jools had called me out to see the nearly-full moon rise, with flocks of birds flying across the fields looking for a roost.

Sunday 5th October 2025

I grew up in Lowestoft in Suffolk, through my formative years, it was a busy town, lots of industry, and at times more jobs than people.

I was expected to follow in my Father's footsteps into the shipbuilding industry. He was a senior shop steward in one of the unions, and life seemed pretty certain.

Then in 1979, Margaret Thatcher came to power and for whatever reason, the old heavy, mostly nationalised industries were cut loose from State support.

Lowestoft had two shipyards, two canning factories, a Bally shoe factory, a TV factory among many others. One by one they closed down.

Only the Bird's-Eye frozen food factory and the TV factory, then taken over by Sanyo remained.

By the mid-80s, many of us having just left school had few local prospects, the town felt like it was dying, and for us, there was precious little entertainment.

Letters were written to the Lowestoft Journal about the lack of what became "indie" music, as the concrete box on stilts which was the South Pier would hold concerts by mostly rock bands like Budge, Motorhead and weekly nights hosted by the Radio Caroline Roadshow.

So, the owner arranged an indie night in the summer of 1986: new band, The Wedding Present supported by Age of Chance were booked, and would play on July 17th.

I was expecting lots of people, dozens maybe not hundreds. But on the night, I walked to the door and asked if the gig was on.

It was.

I counted barely ten people in the audience, the members of the two bands and their roadies easily outnumbered the fans.

Another indie night never came. And soon the South Pier itself would be pulled down, as bad as it was, but the major convert venue in town was lost.

It had been 39 years, two months and three weeks since I saw The Wedding Present, but they were playing Dover on Sunday. I had tickets and had invited former colleague, peter, to come along.

Before then, much to tell.

Back to the gym first thing. Up at half six and climbing on the bike at half seven, to cycle round twilight San Francisco while my phone reached the end of the music selection and began again from ASWAD.

That done, back home for a brew and listen to the radio before having a late breakfast, quickly followed by bacon butties shortly before midday.

This was because the Derby between Norwich and Ipswich was rejoined, the Blues having been relegated, and the police insisting on a midday kick off.

It had been over 16 years since Town beat us, pre-dating me joining Vestas in 2010.

Town had high hopes, we City fans had dread, as it seemed that our long run was sure to end.

And end it did.

An even first half ended with Town 2-1 up thanks to a worldie just before half time, but in the second half, Town scored a third, and the game was up.

There was a knock on the door, and when opened it was Di and Steve who live opposite. Steve was carrying a plastic box.

Did I thin what was in it was an Asian Hornet?

Inside was a large black wasp, well, mostly black, with a single yellow band on it abdomen and clearly bright yellow legs.

I checked online for the Government resource for the Asian or Yellow egged Hornet, and it was.

The Asian Hornet is an aggressive alien species that predates our native bees and wasps, and has no predator here. The aim is to eradicate them before they get beyond the south east of England.

I do a search and fill in the details on the Government portal. Add a shot I took with my phone, and sent it off.

An e mail arrived stating I would hear shortly.

I gave it little thought as there was more football to watch, the dinner to cook before having a shower and being ready for seven for the gig.

As I got dressed after the shower, I heard a noise from the window. Odd as I was upstairs in the bedroom. Maybe it was Poppy trying to get out onto the window sill?

I opened the curtain, and looking at me, hanging from the window frame was a kestrel, probably looking for a place to roost as it was getting dark.

It saw me, shook its head and flew off.

Wow.

Jools dropped me at Cullen's Yard where Peter was waiting, making slow work of a pint, then munching his was through a roast beef dinner.

We caught up, then walked over the new bridge and along Townwall Street to the old Harbour Station, now the Booking Hall, were ticked off the list and found that the band would be on in five minutes.

Only issue was that there were already 250 people in before us, and there was only just room for us to get in.

And then the heat hit.

Despite being October, it was roasting, then once the band came on and played a few numbers, I was sweating.

So i took two breaks outside. I could hear them just the same, as the band went through their forty year back catalogue . In reverse order.

It worked well. Only it was so hot. Even the band remarked on it.

It was all over by ten twenty, so we walked back along Townwall Street, over the bridge to his car, and then back home up Jubilee Way before he dropped me off at the end of the street.

I was shattered.

And thirsty.

So after testing and feeding Scully, and fed Cleo and Poppy, I opened a can of chocolate stout and sat down to see what madness had been going on in the world.