Wednesday 16th July 2025

Back when I worked, I used to go and have haircuts on Sunday mornings, as we usually did stuff on Saturdays. Which means now I can go whatever days I want to.

And as Billy Connolly remarked years back, I have no idea what my body is preparing me for, but after a month I have a thicket of hairs in my ears and from my nose.

The place in Dover I went to didn't do my nose, so for the first time since March, I went to the guys on Folkestone.

It was also a trip out.

Sea mist shrouded St Maggies, and would be the same, if not worse at Capel on the way to be shorn.

I set the alarm, was up by seven, had coffee.

Jools had a class in town at eight fifteen, so I dropped her off on the way in Folkestone. I would collect her "later".

The roads were pretty quiet, but misty as expected at Capel, then down into Folkestone, parking near the top of the Old High Street, before walking up the the (new) High Street, only to find the barbers didn't open until nine.

I could have waited the half hour outside, instead I sought out a coffee shop, had a cuppa and two sausage rolls, as I was suddenly hungry.

That went down well.

So back down to the barbers, straight into a chair, and lots of catching up to do, as my locks fell like snow as he snipped.

Half an hour later, I look like a million dollars. A fat million bucks with dodgy legs, but good enough.

I walked back down to the car, then drove back home to wait for a call for Jools. Resisting the urge to say we'd meet in Chaplins for breakfast.

She called, I went to pick her up, and once back, we had fruit and yogurt for lunch, which was surprising, and then there was the garden.

Jools started clipping the hedge, and I got the mower out and did 90% of the lawnmeadow, so access to the hedge was easier, and I wouldn't stress about wild flowers and plants getting flattened as I had mowed them to pieces.

I helped pick up the hedge clippings before Jools went out, and I retired to the sofa to watch Le Tour, and see if I could stay awake.

Last stage before the mountains, and was exciting anyways.

For dinner, I made Stacchino allo focaccia, though I didn't have the right soft cheese, I got something close. Made the dough, then using just my hands, made it thin like filo pastry, half on top, half n the bottom, with the shredded soft cheese in the middle.

It was different, but also a triumph, of course. And with no leavening, was done in an hour.

This all went very well with Caprese and some vin rouge.

For the evening there was Women's football, Norway v Italy, with Italy winning 2-1 with a last minute header.

Tuesday 15th July 2025

Gales in high summer are not unknown, but are rare. So with high winds and a good chance of rain in the afternoon, if we were going to do anything, best do it in the morning.

After breakfast, I decided to go for a walk.

Although like with most forms of exercise, the hardest part was actually setting off down the road. I put my shoes on, then sat on the patio for quarter of an hour.

And in a new move, I only took my phone with me, no big camera with macro lens, as I (rightly) thought in the fresh breeze there would be few butterflies.

And rather than turn right out of the drive to the fields and Fleet House I turned left towards Station Road, and reaching there, I turned right to go to the top of the down, before striking out across the fields.

Looking south, there were clear blue skies, but to the north and west, there were serious clouds building, so little time to lose.

Along the track there were a few freshly emerged second brood Common Blues, and a few Wall were basking on the ground, but the reality was I don't get close to any of them, so no shots lost.

I am still not 100%, but I do push against it from time to time. I can remember when Mum and Dad came to visit me in Germany in 1995, when Mum was just 51, she had already embraced lack of movement, not being able to keep up with Dad and I, she sat down while we went off.

Am am 9 years older than that. I do sit down on occasion, but press on, mainly being driven by photography or the desire to see what's round the next bend, over the next hill.

I have not walked this way for about a year, I guess. It was good to see some of the plats still going strong, but the Common toadflax seems to have died out, sadly.

The wind began to gust, and I felt rain on my back, a few drops. So, when I reached the horse paddocks, I turned down the slope to Collingwood, then right again past the old midden, now overflowing with wild flowers after it was ploughed and seeded a few years back.

Then down the track to the end of our street, and back home.

The rain held off.

Jools and I got the parasol down, rather than let the wind blow it over. And we were oddly hungry, so I made burgers for an early lunch, and as it was very nearly midday when I dished up, we opened some mid-strength beer/cider.

Cheers.

Through the afternoon the wind blew, but there was no rain. If anything the wind dropped, but by then it was too late to get started with anything, or go anywhere.

I got some beef short ribs out of the freezer, cooked them low and long in the oven. Served them with Boston Beans, fresh Spanish corn and mashed taters, Precious.

It was, of course, a triumph.

No sport on TV, football or Le Tour, so I played the Soft Cell album I bought last week, and we were ecstatic dancing non-stop.

The true cost of HS2

Last Thursday, I travelled from Glasgow back to London on Avanti West Coast.

The train was a 9 car Pendalino set. Or in English, one of the non-upgraded sets that had two extra carriages put in the middle of the set so to increase capacity.

A nine car set has just one carriage of unreserved seats, coach C, meaning eight other coaches are for those who book in advance, so pay the lowest prices, but get seat reservations as a matter of course, and those who turn up on the day, pay top whack, get to stand in the vestibules.

After Preston, people walked up and down hoping to find an empty seat. But there were none, none free even in First Class.

Maybe it would have been not so bad with an eleven car set, but truth is, the West Coast Mail Line (WCML) is at capacity. There is no more room for services, especially between the London to Crewe section.

Two decades ago, £10 billion was spent on upgrade work, and at the end, when the money ran out, there was none left to upgrade the signals to allow for 140mph running.

Any upgrade work in the future will inflict a decade of delays and closures, with no real significant increase in capacity.

This was forseen, of course, and HS2 was planned to take the expresses off the WCML onto HS2 to free up capacity for more stopping services and freight.

The last Government imposed so many design changes, they pulled the plug on the Birmingham to Crewe and the branch to Leeds, leaving it as a high speed branch line between London and Birmingham.

HS2 was no perfect. It was expensive. But most of the high costs, tunneling through the Cotswolds, has been done, the land for the line to Crewe paid for, and work scoped and construction companies chosen.

Now abandoned.

I would not travel on wither the WCML or East Coast Main Line (ECML) without seat reservations.

And cities like Leicester, Nottingham, Northampton and so on, will not now get extra direct services, and have to suffer full trains on the main line.

So it goes, so it goes.

HS1 was built under budget and on time, and now vegetation on either side of the line is now mature, so the line is almost invisible, while the M20 beside it is clogged with traffic.

Governments seem to like spending money on road schemes, sees them as investments, but railways and public transport is "subsidy".

Monday 14th July 2025

Monday.

Bastille Day (France)

Non-rest day (Le Tour)

A day of chores.

First up, the lady from the kitchen people came round to see what we wanted and the measure up the kitchen and utility room.

This is quite easy, as we're not fussy.

But also, we know what we don't like, but not so sure of what we do like.

Anyway, and hour later, she had all the information and will be preparing an AV presentation of what they propose on Friday afternoon.

In the meantime, we have to find a builder to install the kitchen as well as correct the plasterwork and tiling.

We do our main shop now on a Monday, after the weekend when the shops are empty of people and restocked.

So after coffee we head to Tesco, just after nine so to avoid the school rush (last week before the holidays), and go in to buy the essentials: Beer, wine, cheese. Among other things.

And are out again after spending (just) under a hundred quid.

We get home and skip breakfast to go straight into lunch of breaded chicken and slaw in rolls, the chicken cooked now like always in the air fryer.

We wash and clear up, then go out to visit Jools's brother, as he has not been well and has just finished treatment.

Mike's life is more complicated than ours, but he is happy with his lot, generally, so its always a pleasure to catch up.

He's obviously glad the treatments have ended, and his son, George and his wife have bought a house, and are now renovating it before moving in, probably before Christmas.

Mike is also now a TV star, after appearing on a show about Dover Port currently being shown on Channel 4.

We talk for an hour, then leave so he can get his house back.

Back home for an hour, until its time for the weekly date with cards.

Before going to Mike's I had set the telly to record the day's Stage 10 of Le Tour, all five hours of it, and I will watch in the evening.

At Jen's, we have a pleasant afternoon's cards, even if Jen and John win heavily, and our pot of pennies is now nearly empty.

So it goes.

And so back home and as Jools make a brew and butters the remainder of the cheese scones, I settle down to watch the race, and this time being able to fast forward through the ad breaks.

And exciting day's racing, up and down in the Massif Central, 4,500 m of climbing.

It ended at half nine, by which time it was nearly dark and Jools had gone to bed.

Sunday 13th July 2025

40 years since Live Aid.

Up fairly quickly to check on the moth trap I set the night before.

Always wary about setting it in high summer as I don't check it until nearly seven, and by then the trapees could have been in sunshine for nearly three hours by then.

Two Elephant hawkmoths, and this interesting what I believe to be a Feathered thorn, or a thorn moth of some kind, anyway.

The moths were freed, so taking more persuasion to leave than others, and put the trap and extension lead away, before going back in the house for coffee and put the radio on.

It was, apparently, Sunday, and so a lazy morning with the radio, making late breakfast. Have a shave and shower so I felt almost human again.

I make early lunch of pork pie salad, as I want to be all finished, washed up before Le Tour starts at two, which what I spend the next three hours watching.

More like two, really.

Jools bakes cheese scones for supper, then we watch England take Wales apart, 6-1. We drink beer, eat peanuts too.

Saturday 12th July 2025

Its the weekend!

And in the past we would go out and do things at the weekend, now we are more likely to stay in so to avoid crowds and the such.

There wasn't much to do, apart from have coffee, breakfast and a brew. All while listening to the radio.

I had blogs to write, so wrote the in the morning listening to Huey on the wireless.

I defrosted some sausages as we didn't have bacon, and in twenty minutes had sausage sarnies rustled up for brunch.

ITV is losing their rights to cover Le Tour after this season, so there is no choice other than to sign up to TNT+. A shame as the commentary team on ITV is so knowledgeable, and being doing it for so long now, they're like friends.

It won't be the same next year, but one hope that the whole of the stage will be screened, unlike this year when coverage begins at two, and for the last two days we got less than two hours action each day, and only 90 minutes on Friday.

Even with little action, the countryside rolls by as they cycle at 50km/h, and there was the occasional crash or incident to wake me up.

Supper was chorizo hash, with doubly crispy potatoes now I know how to prepare them. I opened a special bottle of beer, Deus, and at 11% ABV not to be messed with.

I drank the whole bottle, though took three hours to do it. Meaning I was still drinking it when Germany v Sweden kicked off at eight.

Friday 11th July 2025

Back home, and a day of relaxation.

Jools left for yoga before I was awake, but she was back soon as the door to the venue was locked, so she could not get in.

By the time she was back, I had done the bins and was watering the garden.

So, we have breakfast of yogurt and fruit and another brew, before we consider the day.

Jools had her social knitting class at the local library, so I was alone for a few hours.

Jools had mentioned that there were lots of butterflies in the field edges near to Fleet House, so I put the macro lens back on the camera, and off I went. At half eleven, just before the hottest part of the day.

But its not that far along the track and over the field.

No Clouded Yellows yet, though there is just one field of lucerne left, and the plants are not quite fully open yet.

There were Common Blues, Large Whites flying about, but I pressed on.

The old glade is now totally overgrown, but further on the farmer has abandoned some ploughs, and between the rusting hulks, a wildflower meadow has sprung up.

Red bartsia just coming into flower, rare this side of the Dip. I head for the Marjoram where I see dozens of butterflies chasing each other off.

More Common blues, A Green Veined white, Brown Argus, Wall browns, Meadow browns.

In the hedge, I see a large insect: a Hornet mimic hoverfly. A large wee beastie.

I get shots so close I could see a reflection in its carapace.

It was hot.

Darn hot.

So, I turned back and headed for home, and on the way back over the field, a small clump of Dense flowered Fumitory, though accurate ID in this family can be difficult. St Margaret's is the stronghold of it here in Britain, pops up most years.

Back home I was hot. I take the bins back down, then pour a glass of iced squash, and wait for Jools to come back.

At two, Le Tour coverage began, so we both sat down to watch. And as they were hammering along, there was only 90 minutes or so to go.

We had a chippy tea, Jools going out to collect them, and then more women's football with Spain and Italy battling for top place in their group.