Monday 10th November 2025

Welcome to Monday.

Again.

And as usual, its a day off the gym, mainly this time because my thighs ache from the standing around in that there London.

I would lie in bed, but a combination of a full bladder and hungry cats meant we were both up before six, and ready for what the world had to throw at us.

Which this very day would be the completion of our very fine new kitchen and utility room.

We were all ready for twenty past eight, Jools having gone for a tip run at eight, when Craig and Jonathan arrived for the final stretch.

Doors on cupboards in the utility room, and painting everywhere else.

Jools does another tip run. I make breakfast, and Craig gets the sander out again to make the walls smooth.

Jools is back at eleven, while outside the predicted rain starts and gets heavier hour by hour.

It was the occasion of the forth church visit for the group, and I had to go into Walmer and Deal to collect two ladies. Made all the more difficult by emergency roadworks in Ringwould, adding half an hour onto the journey they and back.

I pick up Martina from Deal, then another from one of the housing developments near to the Berry, then back onto the main road and another wait at the roadworks.

Rain bucketed down, turning roads and motorways into rivers.

We were behind schedule, so I had to press on, driving into the gloom of mist and road spray.

Finally we turn off at Hythe and go up Stone Street, where vans seem my approach as a cue to pull out at 3mph and crawl along, as though we were not there.

Then down Yocklett's Bank to Hastingleigh, and the final stretch, only to find the main road into Brook was closed due to roadworks, and the detour was several miles via Wye.

We arrived at St Mary's nearly 15 minutes late, but no worry as the warden failed to turn up. So my failure to prepare, as I thought Brian would know it all, were dashed, and I resorted to the information board.

Thankfully Brook speaks loudly for itself. From the massive, squat tower to the reordered chancel with the 13th century wall paintings, it is a remarkable space.

And although we didn't make it to the westwerk, there was enough, what with the "lozenge-shaped window in the south wall of the Chancel, hinting at anchorites.

We were done by four, so back to the car and negotiate the partly flooded six-foot-sixers, back to the motorway at Ashford, then along to Dover and then to the massive jam at Ringwould.

I dropped the two ladies off, then back along the Dover Road, only to be stuck in the traffic for the fourth time that day, taking half an hour to get through the village to home.

Once home Craig and Jonathon were gone, and the job complete, both rooms looking amazing.

I take photos and a video, then to dine on pizza and beer for supper, while we make plans for Tuesday and the grand putting all the stuff back.

I watch lower league football while I polish off some mini cheddars washed down with a whiskey, and the day was done.

The job done.

Sunday 9th November 2025

The alarm went off at five.

I lay for five minutes before getting up.

It was Armistice Day, and I was going to London to be one of the 10,000 or so former members of HM Armed Forces, Civil Servants and others who would take part in observing the two minute silence at eleven, then march past the Cenotaph.

Jools was away at Battle, sleeping soundly, or so I thought.

So I went down the test, jab and feed Scully then feed the other three cats, before boiling the kettle to make a coffee.

At half five, I sat at the table and there was a knock at the back door.

Odd.

Turns out Jools could not sleep, so left the hotel early and was now home, so the plans on how to get me to and back from Ebbsfleet was moot.

I let Jools in, she made a coffee and we caught up on the highlights, before it was time for me to get dressed in my new shirt, trousers, before remembering how to tie a tie.

Socks on, shoes on, put on my rain jacket before grabbing my filled hipflask.

I drove us to Ebbsfleet, leaving in the pre-dawn light, so as we headed north the sunrise got nearer.

Traffic was at least light, with mist hanging over the Medway as we cross over it on the motorway.

I drove us to the station. We kiss as Jools drove off and I walked to the station to find where the first train of the day was leaving from.

Us veterans had free travel to and from London for the parade, so an Army Officer semi-ordered me not to buy a ticket, instead once the roller blinds lifter for access to the platform, we walked up the steps and into the golden glory as the sun cleared the low valley sides, bathing us in warm golden light.

The trees on the valley sides were golden, and barely a breath of wind caused the leaves to flutter. It was going to be a mild and memorable day.

Its only 15 minutes into St Pancras, so barely time to get comfortable.

Once at St Pancras, all barriers were open, so I walked through and went to the undercroft to the Piccadilly Line entrance, which seemed to take forever, and possibly half the way there already by the time I reached the actual station.

Halfway on the journey, a guy got on with the same tie I was searing, one showing the symbol for explosives which is what we use for our trade merchandise, like the tie.

I went to say hello, and turns out he had not been to London in nearly 30 years, and didn't really know where to go.

I would guide him.

We got off at Piccadilly Circus, then along to the Barkerloo line, another walk as long as if we would have went up to ground level and walked along Haymarket.

One stop along to Charing Cross, so up the steps to the street before crossing over the southern side of Trafalgar Square, and begin the first lot of "military waiting" to get through the shrouded arches of Admiralty Arch.

We shuffled along onto the top end of The Mall, then into a tent to show our invites and ID.

And we were in.

My RAFA branch, RAF Armourers, was D38, and literally the first group we came to on the crowded Horseguards Parade.

Old friends were met with handshakes and hugs, new friendships were forged.

And so began the second lot of military waiting, it was half eight, we had two hours to go.

A constant flow of people, most with regimental berets of all hues, most with badges, some with plumes and others with oak leaves or lots of oak leaves.

It was a wonderful sight.

The Horseguards rode by hauling the gun that would be fired to mark the start of the two minutes silence. Some looked so young, barely out of school.

Their bright uniforms showed well under the golden canopies of the London Plan Trees that stood our so well against the deep blue sky.

From ten, the columns began to march off. Use being D38 meant we would be one of the last. But there was waiting here or in Whitehall.

Finally our time came, and we shuffled off on the gravel, wheeling round to the right, then sharp left so we could pass six abreast through the central arch of Horseguards itself, and out onto Whitehall, where we were greeted, as all were, by applause from those gathered to witness the even from behind barriers.

We had twenty minutes to wait. Photos were taken, nips from hipflasks were sipped.

And at eleven, the bells of the Palace of Westminster sounded the hour.

On the first strike by Big Ben, the cannon fired to make the start of the two minutes silence, and London fell silent.

I mean really silent.

For two minutes we stood. And remembered.

The cannon sounded a second time, and the King laid the wreath at the foot of the Cenotaph for the Nation.

Minor Royals followed, leaders of the main political parties, representatives from the wartime allies followed.

We stood and waited.

After the benediction by the Bishop of London, the march off started, beginning with those on the right side of Whitehall.

We applauded each group as they passed, doubling that for the Chelsea Pensioners and the Ghurkhas.

Thing is, the muscles used for walking at different, or used in a different way for standing. Long gone are the days when we used to stand on the parade square or stand on terraces to watch a football match.

I am sure I could not have done this two months ago. Indeed at the National Arboretum I took to sitting every five minutes out of thirty, and ached as I walked back to the car afterwards.

Anyway, the keep fit thing has many benefits, the latest is standing/marching for nearly five hours.

My legs did ache before and after. But I did it.

Sometime before half twelve, we marched off. Impossible to keep time in the deep canyon of the Government and military buildings along Whitehall, but near the Cenotaph, the bands of the Guards, and the bass drum beating, we could keep good time. If only for a while.

By then the Royal Party were long gone, but we did an "eyes left" as we marched past, then on to the end of Whitehall, our steps falling out of time as we left the band behind.

Along King George Street, where more people stood and applauded as we marched past. Turn up Horse Guards Road to where the representative of the Princess Royal saluted us as we marched back before wheeling around Horseguards Parade before stopping and being able to fall out.

We made our way out through Horseguards again, turned left up Whitehall before turning into the Horse and Guardsman pub where we were to meet for drinks.

We were supposed to have reserved the back bar, but it was already packed, and very humid.

I got to the small par, ordered two beers and stood to one side to take it all in.

On Trafalgar Square, I tried to flag a taxi down, but with no luck. So, I thought maybe there might be a train for Dover soon to depart.

So I walked up Charing Cross road, and found I have a 25 minute wait, time in which I bought the last Cornish pasty in the shop, ate that, then walked to platform 5 as the train came in.

A ten minute wait, then the train glided out over the Thames, screeching its way first to Waterloo East then along to London Bridge, all on elevated brick arches so we could looking into rooms our down onto the street and Borough Market.

From there is was "fast" to Sevenoaks, rattling through the suburbs and into Kent, passing under the North Down through two long tunnels.

It took an extra 50 minutes this way, over the high speed line, but got me back in Dover before four, where Jools was waiting to take me home.

We were both very tired.

I watched the Citeh v Liverpool game, we ate party food for supper as the game played out. Citeh 3-0 winners, and well worth their three goals.

We went to bed at half seven, and asleep by eight.

Phew.

Saturday 8th November 2025

Saturday, and home alone.

I am on cat-sitting duties while Jools went to Battle for the bonfire and fireworks.

During the night at one point I had three cats with me, and so was trapped.

But they got off before dawn, so I was able to get up, get dressed and then go through the routine that Jools usually does: test Scully, jab Scully, feed Scully, feed the other cats, stop the cats from stealing each other's food, collect the bowls, boil the kettle, and make coffee.

Phew.

Then to the gym, as I wouldn't be going Sunday, instead I would be doing a different kind of exercise.

I arrived at dawn, parked and went to the entrance.

We hard core jerkers got down to our stuff. I was on a tight deadline so only did half an hour as I had to go to tesco to pick up some stuff, then be back home for half eight when Craig and Jonathon arrived.

Tesco was empty, or fairly empty, so I got what I needed. And some whiskey.

And back home and was washing up when Craig arrived ready for another day finishing the kitchen.

More painting, more batons cut and painted, doors fitted, and much more painting.

I took cardboard and paper to the tip, the back here as work progressed.

I go in and out the front door when they're working, which is when the lock broke.

Its been dodgy for a few months, but it failed totally. I called a locksmith who promised a call back in 15 minutes. 90 minutes later there was nothing.

So I called another in Dover, and he came straight out.

He had a spare lock, and we decided to change the barrel too, which is even more secure.

More expense, too.

And then the football.

Norwich played better against Leicester, and even took the lead in the second half. But sat back, conceded an equaliser in the last 15 minutes, then another in injury time.

Eight straight home defeats: only the third club to have done that, and the first in the second tier.

The manager, Liam Manning, was sacked an hour after full time, and so the cycle continues.

There was football all evening too, both games on the TV. Though I bailed on Chelsea v Wolved once the Blues scored.

And so to bed.

A big day in the morning. I would see the King.

Perhaps.

Friday 7th November 2025

And so to Friday. And then the weekend.

With the gym being closed the previous day, Friday became a phys day, but I needed to drop Jools off in town for her yoga session, then head back to Whitfield to the sports centre, hoping a bike would be free.

Both were free, so I climbed on one, set my phone to play a podcast or two, then select a Natioanl Park to boke round, which mixed summer and winter scenes.

Once done, I went back into town to pick up Jools, so we could be back home when Craig arrived, and he could crack on.

Most work now is details: painting, trim and the such, but Friday was the day the toilet and basin were going to be installed, and then the new radiator in the kitchen.

The banging, knocking and sanding began, and would carry on until half five in the evening.

The sunny start, which brought lovely warm sunshine, turned to cloud and a breeze got up, with the heating system drained and a pipe out the front door, and Craig having the back door open to vent fumes, the house soon cooled down to become downright cold.

I put on a jumper, but that barely cut it.

Jools went to her art class, came back so we could have lunch, then take her to Jen's to collect her car, as Jools would use that to drive to Battle for their bonfire celebrations.

I should be going too, but we double booked and I am off to Whitehall tomorrow to march pas the King at the Cenotaph.

The hipflask I ordered came. It bears the crest of the Coldstream Guards, as Granddad was in their Second battalion, and participated in at least one Remembrance Day parade there before the War.

A little piece of him will be with me.

I lit the woodburner, piling on damp logs and soon the temperature was in the 70s, and I was feeling very toasty indeed.

The flames flickered as the day faded outside, and Craig finished up for another day, maybe one more to go?

I made my favourite snack: strawberry jam sandwiches with salt and vinegar crisps, and a huge brew too.

I fed the cats, tested and jabbed Scully, then washed up.

I had done little, but was pooped.

There was football on in the evening, but I bailed at nine and went to bed, as up early in the morning.

I was kept warm by at least two cats cuddling up to me through the night.

Thursday 6th November 2025

It is Thursday, and that means up before the larks and getting to the gym before seven.

And as the hob was fixed, meaning I had my first early morning coffee for two and a half weeks.

Sweet indeed.

Then off to Whitfield and the sports centre.

I parked up in the half pre-dawn light, swiped in, and went upstairs only to find all the lights in the gym off, and I was the only person there.

All the machines were working, but before I got down to some phys, I thought I had better check that it was OK to do so.

All areas upstairs are closed and locked I was told. You can't get in the gym.

I did.

What?

I swiped and the door unlocked.

Bugger.

Apparently, the lights had tripped, and now there is nothing so simple as a light switch, the whole system had to be reset by the site electrician, or something.

So no phys.

Back home then by half seven, surprising Jools.

So we had breakfast, before she went out to take an old couple along the road to Maidstone hospital to the oncology department.

I was left to mind the house and cats while Craig got on with the work in the kitchen.

It is possible it might be done by Friday night, but Saturday lunchtime is more likely.

So he got going with what he does, and I sat outside reading the Map Men book on the patio, as it was so warm.

I even went for a walk at eleven.

Along the street, up Station Road to Nelson Park, then along before cutting back along Collingwood.

I was looking for plants in flower, but stunned to find a Winter heliotrope in flower in the raised bed at the end of Collingwood. This is six weeks earlier than usual.

The importance of this is that heliotrope is really the first flowering plant of the new year, even if its the old year, and a sign that Spring is not far away, even if we've not yet entered winter.

If that makes sense.

I do 4,000 steps by the time I get home, then sit more outside, waiting for Jools to return so we could have lunch.

She got home at twenty to two, and had been gifted a tin of Celebrations chocolates, so instead of something sensible, we had four or five of the bite-sized chocolates each instead.

I put the badge on my beret, walking around with it on for a couple of hours to get used to it again. It had been twenty years since I last wore one.

And my trousers and shirt arrived for Sunday, so I won't look like "two penn'orth of rough stuff tied up ugly".

Ahem.

Craig was done by half three, so I could begin to prepare our first meal in the new kitchen: chorizo hash.

Potatoes cut into cubes and left to soak for half an hour before the starch was drained out of the water, then set to boil on the new hob.

Meanwhile, onions, peppers and chorizo cut and so prepared for cooking.

It all came together, even if the potatoes were a little too crunch, or in my Dad's words: "when they're brown, they're done, and when they're black they're buggered".

I opened a can of barely wine to go with it, and very fine it was too.

Cheers.

There was football in the evening, but minor European games, so I went to bed at half eight, as we were due up at five the next morning.