Thursday 19th June 2025

There was a rumour that DHL were going to deliver the replacement beers on Thursday.

It couldn't be that simple, could it?

No. It could not.

And.

Despite being a technician in the RAF and a geophysical engineer after that, I am quite shit at fixing things.

Which brings us to the mower.

It stopped working a few weeks back. Every no and again I took it out and tried to get it going, hoping that I would do something special and it would roar into life.

It did not roar into life.

Sometimes it coughed and then died. But most of the time it just did not start.

I will fix it. I said, optimistically.

I watched videos on YouTube, made things seem quite straightforward, but then remember who I am and my track record of fixing things.

Reluctantly I agreed to take it to to the workshop in Whitfield, so after breakfast we loaded it into the car and I drove carefully to the industrial unit.

"It's falling to pieces", the guy said. Perceptive as well as a mechanic.

And:

"Where is the air filter?"

I have no idea, but it would have to be found or a replacement found before the mower can be used.

I explained the issue and said the injector thing was blocked through contaminated fuel.

No, its not he said.

Leave it with me.

Back home I comb the lawnmeadow for sign of the filter and its housing.

No sign.

After lunch he calls, so we go back. Fuel deteriorates quickly after a few weeks, and one of the things old fuel forms is a kind of waxy deposit.

The Carburettor and system were cleaned. All lose bolts, tightened, and filled with fuel that does not go "off".

We pay the man, load it back in the back of the car and drive home.

The mower is put back in the shed, and we retire to the patio for mint julips so to avoid a touch of the vapours.

Vapors.

When we returned, the beer that was going to be delivered between half five and half six, was already here. I put two bottles in the fridge.

And that was the day.

Chorizo hash for supper, along with a bottle of one of the new beers.

We have a heatwave, with it getting hotter over the weekend.

We have more beers.

Cheers.

Wednesday 18th June 2025

We are now used to this retirement lark. I set no alarm unless there is a need, which I do Wednesday as Jools has a class and I will go to the gym while she does her moves.

Up at half six, coffee and dressed so that we were in the road at twenty to eight, in the middle of what counts as rush hour. The worse part being getting over the Duke of York's roundabout.

That done, down the hill into town, dropping Jools off near The Riverside Centre, then me doubling back through Buckland and up to Whitfield through the estate.

I park and check in, the gym feels hot even with the air con on, so I get on the bike, set the phone for some chunes and start peddling.

I did 25 minutes, but was so uncomfortable, I bail, wipe the machine down and go back home for a brew, as I am to meet Jools in town for breakfast just before ten.

Jools rings to say that Chaplins is closed due to flooding from the other night, so once there I suggest we go to the Beano, which we did and had a good breakfast with big cuppas.

I did say that if one of the many barbers had a chair free I would get a hair cut, and the first one we passed did indeed have a free chair, so I go in and am shorn, so will be cooler.

Then we could go home.

No breakfast needed, so we have a brew and agree its again too hot for much, so we take it in turns sitting on the patio with Scully.

We have three Mulleins growing beside the drive, they look spectacular, so I took more shots. Though, trying identify it seems to suggest they're hybrids between Greater and possibly Moth Mulleins.

Also impressive is the rose we tried to kill over the winter, it seems to thrive on the savage cutting we gave it, and is a fine show of red blooms, which bees seem to love.

But that's plants for you.

A bright green thing flew past and settled: A Rose Chafer. But settled in a place where I could not get too close. Still, look at that colour!

We have a quiet afternoon again, the sun swings to the west and begins to get lower. So I make dinner: pork pie, Jersey Royals and some salad.

And an ice cold beer.

England U21s lost to Germany in the evening, so Plus la Change!

Cheers.

Blue Sky not dead yet

The Spectator claimed yesterday that Blue Sky (the social media platform) is dead. And that it is now a nastier place that Twitter.

If you're a right wing toll, then perhaps it is, as there is no algorithm​ that boots your profile due to engegemnt, good or bad.

On Blue Sky, people block you, so you are invisible.

I have been on Blue Sky some 18 or so months, and pretty much the same group of people, friends, contacts, organisations I met in those first few weeks are who I engage with most now.

I have seen no drop in activity, the opposite is true, of course.


And needless to say, I have not felt the need to block anyone, no one has been an arse, it is a place of bloom-scrolling, not doom-scrolling.

Many liberals or left wing folks left Twitter, leaving it to become a right wing echo chamber, so they were unable to trigger the libs as much as before.

So it goes, so it goes.

Blue Sky is old fashined in that you thrive though engagement, as accounts are mostly real people.

Facebook now delivers what its users didn't sign up for, suggestions for new clickbait, rather that what your actual friends are doing.

I only stay on Faceache to run my orchid group, otherwise its useless.

But Blue Sky is in rude health. Without swearing.

The new normal

I have been retired 89 days.

Jools seven days less.

And really, today, was the first time that we didn't know what day of the week it was.

First world problem, maybe.

Retirement is now normal. It is our life.

Some days we do what we planned to, some days we don't and put it off to "tomorrow".

And the biggest thing is that what folks told us that you'll wonder how ever you squeezed work into a day is true.

Our calendar has something written most days, some days with important stuff like dentists or doctors, but mostly with fun stuff: meals with neighbours, trips to Wiltshire or London.

Tomorrow, we are going to get our lawnmower repaired. And that's it. I mean I might go to Sandwich Bay, but its gonna be a hot day, so might not.

I can't see us wanting to go back to work after this.

Tuesday 17th June 2025

In November 2024, the Dover Fast track bus service began. Initially using diesel engined buses until the electric ones ordered were serviceable.

Eight months later, and there's no sign of the electric buses, and from what I saw, peak services are half full, outside of that, a handful of people use the service.

All this for £34,000,000 outlay in building the road and bridge over the A2.

Back in November we walked most of the way into Richmond Park, but I have been meaning in walking the southern part, which links Whitfield with Fort Burgoyne.

So, after coffee, Jools dropped me off while she went to the dentist, and I looked for orchids.

And other plants.

Between the sports centre and the start of the bus road, I counted 93 Dacht spikes, most clearly Common Spotted, as were probably the others, though they had the features of Heath Spotted.

I snap both kinds for future investigation.

I had hoped the mile-long stretch of road, which is lined on both sides by wild flowers, would be orchid rich too, but sadly, I guess, the soil, despite being recently turned over, was done too recently to allow orchid seed to set.

This part of the road was built on part of Watling Street, which should have been protected, but it was where a Brexit-related facility was due to be built.

That was then not needed due to the harm to the economy such veterinary checks would have done, so the land was used for this bus-only road.

Two services an hour in each direction, off-peak.

I walked down, taking shots of the road and plants, but soon it was the same flowering plants and shrubs, and it was getting warmer minute by minute.

Mullein, Wild Carrot, Viper's Bugloss, Weld, White clover, Mallow and Ox-eye daisies just going to seed.

Two dog walkers pass me, and a lady going to a gym class at the sports centre along with a bus going each way.

Otherwise it was quiet except for bird song, and the quiet hum of traffic on the A2, out of sight in a cutting.

I reached the end, Jools called. So I told her where I was, and she would pick me up on the way home.

Once she arrived, we went via Guston, Pineham, Whitfield, in a huge circle really, back to Swingate and to Tesco.

We rush round getting what we need, then back home before it gets too crowded and too warm outside.

Phew.

It was nearly eleven, and time for breakfast.

I spend half the day chasing a parcel from DHL. One which they have lost.

Then found.

Then damage.

Then repair.

And finally decide it couldn't be delivered. So sent it back to Beers of Europe.

Leaving me beer-less.

Beers of Europe get an answer from DHL which I couldn't, and a replacement is being sent.

Sigh.

This has all taken 15 days so far.

It is too hot to do anything, really. So, we take it in turns to sit out under the awning with Mulder and Scully, then back inside to cool down.

We even have beer/cider with our lunch of breaded chicken salad rolls, so struggle to stay awake in the afternoon.

Dinner was another helping of Caprese, with some store-made bread. Its too hot and time consuming to make my own.

So, slices of tomato, topped with slices of mozzarella drizzled with balsamic vinegar and cold press olive oil. Seasoned then basil leaves arranged on the slices.

Lovely.

I had some fine wine to finish, which I do finish.

Somehow, custard doughnuts had slipped into our trolley, and even though I wasn't hungry, I made brews and had one with a cuppa.

Lovely.

Monday 16th June 2016

We all get old of course, and aches and pains come and sometimes go. Getting out of a chair or off the sofa comes complete with groans and sighs.

Jools has hurt her thigh. A soft tissue injury, and needed advice on how to care and what she could and couldn't do in order not to make it worse.

Our local friendly chiropractor has moved to Canterbury, on the Old Dover Road, so no need to actually go into the city itself, so just a twenty minute drive rather than the two minute blast down the hill when they were based at Martin Mill.

So, no gym, and after coffee we set off at nine, rough hour being come and gone, for a nice cruise up the A2, turning off at Bridge and waiting in the traffic until we came to number 130.

I parked up and waited, while Jools went in to be pummelled.

A lovely sunny day, and one which deserved to be orchid-filled.

An hour later she came out, and I took us back onto the A2, off through Bridge and back on the London bound A2, turning off and taking the A28 along the Stour Valley to Chilham and then to Ashford.

About 90%, at least, of Kent is calciferous, so that the opposite, areas of acid soil, is rare.

One such place is Hothfield, where there is a colony of Heath Spotted Orchids as well as other acid-loving lants and insects can be found.

It is under the care, I think of the local council, who over the years have not done a good job, if the surveyors from Nature England I met there a few years back told me were correct.

We parked outside, walked over the road and through the wood. It has been two or three years since I was last here, the fence for the bog and its gates are gone, so trying to get my bearings took a few minutes.

I realised, walk downhill until the ground and/or your feet get wet!

Which we did.

Numbers of orchids are down on its peak, and none beside the main path, but if you look there were perhaps 200 or so, some in the stagnant ponds others among the ferns.

I take shots of a few spikes, and of the Lousewort also in flower, then we began the long walk back to the car. In reality, just ten minutes.

The sun had gone in, hidden behind clouds, but it was humid and not too pleasant, at least for me.

Back in the car we set for home, but deciding we were hungry, and on the way to the motorway through the outskirts of Ashford, where best to have lunch.

We settled on a new place called Hoops, on London Road at the end of Combe Valley Road, does breakfast in the mornings, and is supposed to do good burgers into the evening.

We get a parking spot outside, and it seemed an effort for us to be served, and despite it being just after noon, they were just doing breakfast.

I had sausage and bacon roll, which came in one of those part-baked things you get to cook at home from supermarkets, whilst Jools had an omelette, which was pretty good.

My roll wasn't.

So, we won't go back there again.

So back home, up Whitfield Hill and along the A2 to home, where we have a brew and some leftover chocolate biscuits.

It was, of course, Monday. And Monday is the new card-playing day. So, we drove over to Whitfield, and after chatting, we got down to the serious business.

I had a terrible afternoon. Both Jools and I did, I failed to win a penny in Meld, and then in Queenie, our losses kept piling up.

The kitty for the four-in-a-row kept building, until it got to five when the threshold was reduced to three-in-a-row.

And second hand in I got four, so scooped the jackpot, thus replenishing our tin of winnings.

Yay!

Dinner, when it came, for us was breaded chicken fillet salad and ice cold beer, which was pretty darn good and perfect for a hot and humid afternoon.

I skipped the footy in the evening, so we headed to bed at nine after a shower, it still being light outside.

Sunday 15th June 2025

Day two of the weekend, and we're both pretty tired.

Jools had done gardening all day Saturday when I was out, and hurt her thigh, and I had been up and down all through the week, and that long slog back to the village hall on Saturday had my legs screaming for a rest.

So, we rested on the seventh day.

It was a fine day. Breezy but sunny, and soon it was only bearable to be under the awning on the back patio.

We had breakfast, coffee, more coffee. And the day spread out before us.

In the garden, the Sage Clary we bought four weeks or so back, was flowering, looking as dramatic as promised.

I took pictures.

Lunch was to be steam, fried potatoes, garlic mushrooms and actual Champagne.

So, I prepped the potatoes, peeled and sliced, the soak in water to get the starch out before coating in warm duck fat and air frying. The steak was seasoned and rubbed with oil, then left to marinade until it was time to cook.

Lunch was served at five past one, and what we can say is that the Champers is more potent than the Prosecco, and nicer too.

But more expensive.

We wash up and put the dishes away, then try to stay awake with the radio on.

I find some football to watch at five; England U21s, and it was pretty poor fayre.

But football.

And that was it for a rather quiet day and evening.