21 February 2026 (Saturday) - A Birthday

I had an odd night. I woke in the small hours following a very vivid dream in which “er indoors ^TM” was running a boating lake inside a stolen ridge tent, and once I finally got back to sleep I had another nightmare in which one of my ex-cubs had taken over the world. He was an odd chap who could speak (if he had to) but chose to communicate by making strange grimaces and expected people to know what he wanted according to the contortions of his face. In my nightmare, speech and the written word had become illegal and gurning was the only permissible form of communication.

Have you ever tried pulling strange expressions at a recalcitrant dog?

 

I made toast with some of that apricot jam. It’s a few years since we had any; I can remember it being far better than this stuff. I had a little look at the Internet. I had a few messages from “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM”; she seems to be quite keen on emigrating to Mars at the moment. I suspect that given a few years that might be an option for her. I also suspect that what sounds rather glamourous in theory would actually be rather dull in practice.

And I had several birthday messages too.

Steve was on the radio doing the Guess the Lyrics competition. “She opened up her eyes and thought Oh What A Morning” No? – I had no idea either. It was “"All That She Wants" by the Swedish pop group Ace of Base.

 

We drove round to Repton and dog club where we had a rather good (if muddy) time. And from there we drove out to Biddenden where we met Karl and Tracey. We had a rather good walk round the local area. Very muddy, but good. We found a few geocaches (as we do). And then we went on to the McCann’s brewery for the geo-meet…

Oh dear…

We got to the place to find every single table booked for the rugby match. I explained that we’d arranged to have our meet there. We had. We arranged that a couple of months ago. They claimed to have no record of our booking. I showed them the email on my phone. That didn’t go down well and the woman behind the bar grudgingly said we could stand at the bar or sit outside on the patio, So we sat outside. The people on the next table had pizza. We tried to order food and were told we couldn’t as we hadn’t booked. Even though the people on the next table hadn’t booked and they got food. When I whinged the woman behind the bar said that I could talk to the manager about it if and when she came in. She didn’t actually say “f… off fatso” but it she made it clear that we weren’t welcome or wanted. I pulled out my phone and called the Old Dairy brewery and explained what had happened. They said we were very welcome.

It didn’t take that long to message everyone that the geo-meet had been relocated.

 

Twenty minutes later we were in the Old Dairy Brewery, and it wasn’t long before everyone who had said that they were coming to the geo-meet joined us. I was very relieved to see that everyone had got the message.

We had a rather good afternoon. Pizza, stout, meeting friends… it all became rather vague. Though I did take a few photos.

 

I woke up on the sofa a couple of hours later. “er indoors ^TM” got kebabs and we watched “Mr Bean’s Holiday” which we’d recorded some time ago. And I had a revelation. For all that Mr Bean is funny, he’s a horrible person, isn’t he?

 

As birthdays go, today was rather good.

20 February 2026 (Friday) - Doughnuts (edible and otherwise)

Last night I did that thing I do so often; I woke before two o’clock feeling full of energy and raring to go, and then dozed on and off for the rest of the night. I got up at five o’clock and watched an episode of “Boots” as I scoffed toast. Today I scoffed it with apricot jam. “er indoors ^TM” went shopping last night and came home with the stuff. I can remember it being far better than it was this morning.

With telly watched I had a little look at the Internet as I do. It was still there. For some reason I my Facebook feed this morning was flooded with adverts for the Church of England who were taking the line that because atheists couldn’t disprove the existence of their god, then atheists were clearly wrong. I’m not quite sure how that works? Personally I’d take the evidence of Eric the God-eating penguin which disproves the existence of God (engage logic mode…)

"God can't exist because of Eric The God-Eating Magic Penguin. Since Eric is God-Eating by definition, he has no choice but to eat God. So, if God exists, He automatically ceases to exist as a result of being eaten by Eric... Therefore *unless* you can prove that Eric doesn't exist, God doesn't exist. However *if* you can prove that Eric doesn't exist, then that same proof will also be applicable to God. There are only two possibilities - either you can prove that Eric doesn't exist or you can't - in both cases it logically follows that God doesn't exist".

From that it is a very short step to proving that black is white and getting yourself run over on the next zebra crossing that you see.

 

And then there was a commotion outside. Usually when they come on a Friday morning the bin men make no attempt to keep quiet. They crash about and shout across the street to each other seemingly of the opinion that if they are up and out of bed, then so should everyone else be up and about. But they excelled themselves today by spending about five minutes shouting "f...ing doughnut" up and down the street at twenty to seven this morning. I couldn't determine whether the "f...ing doughnut" was a fellow bin man, or some passer-by who had offended them.

 

I set off to work listening to the pundits on the radio. Apparently the brewing company Brewdog is going belly up. There were all sorts of people being interviewed on the radio about this. Having lost thousands of pounds they were all saying how the company seemed to be a sound investment at the time. I must admit I don't know the first thing about the finances of the company but as a beer drinker I never liked their stuff. To my mind they sold half-pint quantities of mediocre beer at pint prices.

And there was a lot of talk about ex-Prince Andrew who was arrested yesterday. After seemingly endless scandal and rumours about who and what he might have done the dirty deed to, at, or on, it seems he's finally been had up by the Old Bill. But the arrest was made on the suspicion that he passed on confidential financial information when he was acting as a government trade envoy. So far there's been no mention of whatever it was that allegedly prompted his mother to pay Virginia Giuffre  to get her to keep quiet about her allegations that she was forced to have several sexual encounters with him when she was aged seventeen. Will an arrest follow about that?  

His case sums up all that is wrong with the British judicial system though, doesn't it? He might be a villain, he might not. But he's already been tried and found guilty by the opinion of the newspapers, and he will never get a fair trial now, will he?

 

I drove up to Sainsburys where there were several caravans parked in the car park. What was that all about? I got lunch, and some cakes for work in honour of tomorrow including some doughnuts (not f…ing ones though).

 

I then went into work where I started a new book on my Kindle app. I started reading the Harry Potter books between Christmas and the New Year and I finished the last one yesterday. I've now started Arthur C Clarke's "Rama" series.

Arthur C Clarke is (yet) another one who was widely reported to be a sex criminal... even though there was absolutely no actual evidence against him other than the rantings of newspapers

 

As I worked I had a phone call from 07756 004729 who claimed that they were calling from Visa debit cards about a suspicious transaction of nine hundred pounds on my account. I phoned the bank who knew nothing about it... I suppose that these scammers only need to trick one person to be in profit...

And I had an email from Forestry England... who seem to be only too happy for me to stage a Midsummer's Eve event in Kings Wood. That's a result.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up sausages and chips which we scoffed whilst watching this week’s episode of “Star Trek: Starfleet Academy” which wasn’t bad. Sadly compared with what’s gone before it wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad.

 

I’m thinking about an early night… bet I don’t have one.

19 February 2026 (Thursday) - Rostered Day Off

I was sleeping like a log when I woke to the sound of Morgan crying. He was laying next to me, twitching and shaking, whimpering and sobbing. He was clearly having a very vivid nightmare. Dogs *really* do have dreams. I managed to settle him, and I dozed on and off for the rest of the night, finally getting up just after seven o’clock

 

I had a look at the internet. The parody site Newsthump had had its TikTok account permanently deleted as the AI running the site didn’t understand parody. Apparently other satirical sites such as the Daily Mash and Waterford Whispers have the same problem.

AI still has a lot to learn.

And there was a minor squabble on the Kent Weather Forecasts Facebook page. The chap who runs the page had the hump because people were pointing out that his forecasts were at odds with other forecasts, The chap was ranting about how all the weather forecasters have the same data, but the data is open to interpretations.

Well…

No it’s not. If you’ve got accurate scientific data then that’s the end of it. If there’s multiple possible meanings for that data then your means of interpreting that data is fundamentally wrong. Isn’t it?

 

Despite the iffy weather forecast from Kent Weather Forecasts and the BBC (and the not-too-bad one from the Met Office) I took the dogs out. As we drove Robert Jenrick was being interviewed by the pundits on the radio. Like most politicians this chap seems to have an eye out for the main chance and has variously been in charge of housing and health when in government, and was shadow chancellor of the exchequer until he threw it all in and jumped on the Reform UK bandwagon. Listening to him was worrying; he summed up the very reason why I’m worried about Reform UK. He didn’t say that the country needs Reform UK; he said that the country needs Nigel Farage. And there’s Reform UK in a nutshell. It is a cult.

 

We got to the woods where the rain had given way to a foggy drizzle. Being earlier than usual we had a good normal-people-free walk. We mostly stuck to the wider paths and avoided the worst of the mud, it was only on the last half-mile that we saw anyone else.

 

We came home for a bath. I put a load of washing in to scrub, and with “er indoors ^TM” having an office day I made myself a cuppa then had a look in the fridge. I was under orders to chuck out the cheesecake that had been left in the fridge since last week and forgotten about. It didn’t smell *that* bad so I scoffed it.

 

I wrote up some CPD, then did the ironing whilst watching the last episodes of “Harlots” which was a rather good series. I emptied the washing machine (and set the dishwasher going) and ironed the shirts whilst they were wet and then started something new on Netflix. “Boots” tells the tale of a young gay lad who enlisted into the American Marines. It was billed as a comedy, but wasn’t actually that funny. Rather engaging… but not actually funny. I emptied the dishwasher. I ran round with the Hoover. I did the bins. I worried about Treacle who wanted to go into the garden where she ate grass for fifteen minutes.

 

I checked my emails just in case any of the trainees had sent me more portfolio work to assess. It’s only fair on them to give them feedback whilst what they’ve written is fresh in their minds. And there was something for me to look at – a dissertation on the ESR. The erythrocyte sedimentation rate is an absolutely wonderful blood test. I’ve gone into detail about it somewhere else.

 

“er indoors ^TM” came home and sorted us a rather good chili which we scoffed whilst watching this week’s episodes of “The Traitors: Ireland” in which the chap I really didn’t like finally got the heave-ho.

I’m still in two minds as to whether I should apply for the next series of the UK version of the show…

18 February 2026 (Wednesday) - Before Another Late Shift

I slept reasonably well, but woke in a cold sweat at five o’clock after a nightmare in which I’d been sent to sort out an alien invasion in which the local buses had been taken over by buck-toothed androids which had doubled the bus fares overnight.

My pleas that I’d not been on a bus for years were totally ignored…

 

I got up, made toast and had a look at the Internet. It was still there. The local newspaper was pretending to act surprised on the local Facebook pages; following the closure of the local shopping centre the nearby café is looking set to go out of business. Whilst I feel for them, this can’t be a surprise, can it?

I saw our county councillor is no longer part of Reform UK; he’s packed up with them and joined the newly formed Restore Britain party. He posted on his Facebook page this morning “Every speech I gave had to be vetted and re scripted, every vote I gave was whipped and forced on me. To be given to respect to now vote and speak on behalf of my constituents means so much to me”. Perhaps we might now find out exactly why he's been sitting as a back bencher after leaving his deputy cabinet role (environment portfolio) at Kent County Council three months ago.

I suppose it is a step in the right direction; if only because Restore Britain is a political party whereas Reform UK is actually a company pretending to be a political party. There are those who see Restore Britain as a bad thing because of what they stand for. There are those who see Restore Britain as a bad thing because it divides the far-right vote. I don’t know what to think. can’t say I like either of the parties the bloke’s associated with, but from what I’ve seen of the chap he actually does far more for the local community than many other local councillors do. And he’s streets ahead of the Labour MP for whom I actually voted.

 

I sent out birthday wishes to the two friends who were having a birthday today, Munzed, and amazed myself by Wordling from “right” to “mogul” in only three goes. I suppose there’s only so many five letter words with “G” in the middle.

 

 I spent an hour assessing more trainee’s work. I wrote up some CPD, and took Treacle to the vets for her annual once-over. Her eight is down from last year (by nearly a kilogram) and her teeth are good (that’s a result for Doggy Dentals). She’s still covered in fatty lumps though. The vet suggested biopsy, but when I pointed out that in order to be sure they weren’t malignant we’d have to biopsy every one the vet agreed that wasn’t practical. Treacle’s still got a heart murmur, but it is no worse than last year. The vet pulled all her legs about and said there was no flexibility or mobility issues.

All things considered the vet said that Treacle was in very good shape for a (nearly) ten year old dog and that we should continue the long walks round the woods all the time she’s obviously not struggling with them.

 

The plan was then to go for a long walk round the woods… but as it says in the Bible (Proverbs 16 v 9) God laughs when we make plans. The boss phoned and said that due to sickness we were short at work and asked if I could cover the late shift.

I could.

It is rather pathetic really, but it is good to feel needed so once I’d made up both a cuppa I got ready for the off. As I got ready to go to work so Bailey wanted to come with me again. Having disappointed her earlier when I took Treacle to the vets I disappointed her again.

 

I drove round to the co-op where I immediately slammed on the brakes as some idiot woman clearly wasn't watching the cars around her and nearly rammed my car. And then she tried to do it again. Having had to twice stop suddenly because of her seemingly being oblivious to the world around her, I eventually parked despite her best efforts. As I walked to the co-op so she got out of her car. I commented to her that she needed to keep an eye out as she'd nearly crashed into me twice. She smiled and said I was talking to the wrong person because she doesn't drive. What was that all about?

I got a sandwich and went to work up the A20 where I stopped off to do the secret ritual with a rather good geocache that “er indoors ^TM” had hidden there last year. And with that done (together with yesterday's little mission) I've now completed the "Toy Dinosaurs" geo-Treasures.

I carried on to work... and again had to slam on the brakes as I drove up the motorway because the lorry in front hadn't noticed the broken-down car in the slow lane, and had left emergency braking far too late. As I pushed on the brake for all I was worth, the lorry in the rear view mirror looked awfully close as well...

When my previous car packed up on the motorway I'd had the sense to freewheel onto the hard shoulder rather than abandoning it in the slow lane, but what do I know?

Work was much the same as ever. I can't pretend I actually wanted to go in this afternoon, but the boss had asked me to, and according to the thirty-third Rule of Acquisition, it never hurts to suck up to the boss.

 

I was glad to see the night shift turn up. As I drove home the pundits on the radio were repeating the same program I'd listened to yesterday morning about the hacker who'd tried to blackmail thousands of people. Much as I like Radio Four, there's an awful lot of repeats on there. I suppose they've done their homework and I suppose they try to schedule repeats so that different people hear them at different times... It's just a shame that I seem not to hear them all. I turned the radio off and sang along to the strange tunes in my MP3 collection

 

I’m feeling rather worn out – I’ve worked three of the last four days. So much for being semi-retired…

17 February 2026 (Tuesday) - Before the Late Shift

I slept well, but ached when I woke up. I put washing in to scrub, made toast and had a little look at the Internet in the desperate hope that something might have happened overnight.

It hadn’t really.

I Munzed, Wordled from “shite” (it took that word !) to “squad” and had a little look at the geo-map. I didn’t have time to get the dogs round Kings Wood and back and bath them, and Orlestone would have been a swamp. So bearing in mind that some new geo-Treasures were going live today I planned a little circuitous trip to work to get some of these Treasures.

 

As I got ready to go on my little mission so Bailey wanted to come with me.  Of all the dogs she seems to get most excited at the prospect of going out, and I didn't like to disappoint her. But I did.

As I drove off the pundits on the radio were talking about the criminal hacker Julius Kivimäki  who in 2018 gained access to the treatment records of about thirty thousand patients and went on to demand ransom payments from both the company he hacked and individual patients. He ended up with over twenty-one thousand charges of attempted aggravated extortion, nearly ten thousand counts of aggravated invasion of privacy, and twenty counts of aggravated blackmail. Apparently the chap openly played solitaire and read books during the trial; showing no remorse at all..

There was an interview with the people who defended him in court... they said that they were in an impossible position of having to defend the indefensible. 

 

I got to my first geo-target... or the designated parking for it. I should have realised this was going to be a bad one when my RingGo app went belly up, but I thought I could pay when I got home and I persevered. I walked through quarter of a mile of thick mud only to find someone felling a tree on top of where the geocache was hidden.  That someone got rather aggressive when he saw me minding my own business walking past...  and after a little "conversation" (for want of a better word) I decided to cancel my subscription to his employers (Kent Wildlife Trust).

 

The second and third geo-targets were quite painless in comparison... I just followed the sat-nav to where it said to go, stopped the car, got out, did the secret geo-rituals and drove off again.

 

The fourth was simple enough. Go to a car park and find the sign with six lines of text. After ten minutes I was about to give up when I turned round and saw the sign had been behind me all the time. Dur (!) But once I'd found the sign, solving the puzzle was easy enough and I soon knew where to go.

 

The fifth eluded me... I had to find mentions of half a dozen people in a graveyard. I *think* one of then was mentioned on a plaque which had fallen off one of the benches.

The sixth involved solving a simple puzzle based on the stained glass window of the local Methodist church, and having solved the puzzle the cache itself was easy to find. Or it would be easy for anyone else to find. I made something of a meal of it...

 

By then the morning had flown by so I headed off to the petrol station in Aylesford where cars were queuing back to the road. But as I arrived one or two drove off from the same pump and I was able to drive straight in. So I did.

 

I went on to work... I really should have a lie-in when on the late shift, but I don't. I do stuff in the morning. Usually too much stuff. And by the time I show up at work I'm ready to go home to put my feet up. But I did my bit (as I do), and eventually got home about thirteen hours after I set off this morning…

 

Oh and it’s five years since my mum died.

16 February 2026 (Monday) - This n That

I didn’t feel too good went I went to bed last night; I didn’t feel much better this morning, but I could sulk or get on with it I got on with it.

 

I had my weekly weigh-in; my weight is holding constant which is better than going up I suppose. I made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do most mornings. I hadn’t missed much. The political squabbling continued… the Labour party is seen by pretty much everyone as being a load of old tosh and the only way forward is seen to be Reform UK… Even though it’s only a year or so since the Labour party was voted in with a massive majority because the electorate were sick of the failings of the Conservative party. And now I personally can’t see how the current government is much different to the previous Conservative one and everyone wants a new Reform UK government which (in large part) will be made up of the ex-conservatives who now infest Reform UK and who they all voted out in the biggest defeat in electoral history only a year or so ago.

Democracy, eh?

I saw the son of some old friends had a birthday today… Twenty-seven. Where to the years go?

And I saw that yesterday some people had been walking round looking for some of the geocaches I’d hidden in Kings Wood and didn’t find two of them. That immediately gave us today’s dog walk.

I Munzed, made up two little replacement geocaches, and we set off.

 

As I drove there was some utter tripe on the radio about someone who used to work for an oil company and had now written a book that supposedly had to be explained before you could read it. I was reminded of all the books we read at secondary school that were supposedly allegorical of all sorts of stuff which were absolutely nothing at all to do with said books.

We got to the woods and set off on a different walk to our usual one. We walked out to the geocaches that had been reported as missing. One was, one wasn’t. And from the last one we wandered through part of the area of the woods where we would be more likely to see deer… but we didn’t.

As we walked we saw some of the other dog walkers that we know by sight. And we saw Frankie.

Oh dear…

Frankie was a very small dog who was absolutely fine with us, but the woman with him was terrified of Morgan and Bailey, and she acted surprised to find out that when she got out the dog treats for Frankie, Morgan and Bailey wanted one as well. And Treacle would have been up for a treat as well…

If you don’t want other dogs swarming round your precious princess, why open a bag of dog treats when the other dogs are about five yards away?

But despite the attraction of a bag of dog treats, my three came away when called.

 

We got back to the car to see that my MapMyWalk app said we’d covered a few yards over five miles, and that my watch said we’d covered a few yards under six miles. I wonder which (if either) is correct.

We came home where bellies got washed, and I made us both a cuppa with a lump of cake too. As I’d driven home from work yesterday I’d stopped off at the little shop in Sissnghurst and got a butterscotch cake.

I filled the bird feeder, I harvested a crop of dog dung from the garden, I put a load of washing in to scrub. I then emailed the geo-feds about an idea I’ve had. About thirty years ago a whole load of poncey artwork was set un in Kings Wood. Most of it has since fallen apart and is long gone, but there’s one bit still there – an avenue of yew trees planted in such a way that if you stand at one end and look west (ish) on midsummer’s eve then the sun appears to set at the other end of the avenue of trees. It would be nice to see that, and it would be nice to share it. So I thought I might set up a geo-event for the occasion. But would I need formal landowner permission? If I do I probably wouldn’t have time to sort it out between now and June…

I sent an email to see what the geo-feds had to say.

 

As the rain (and thunder) started I resorted to my fall-back position of watching episodes of “Four In A Bed”. In today’s episodes the chap who charged twice as much as everyone else and was critical of everyone and everything turned out to run somewhere which was nowhere near as good as the opposition, and he came in last. I didn’t laugh much.

I hung out the washing, put a load of undercrackers in to scrub, and spent an hour assessing a trainee’s work on haemolytic anaemias until I got a replay from the geo-feds. Any kind of organised activity on Kings Wood would need formal permission. It’s really daft. There’s nothing stopping me going up there with a gaggle of mates to watch the sunset. That’s fine. But if we want to do it as a geocaching event we need formal permission. I suspect that with four months to go I’ve left it too late for this year. If only the paid staff of Forestry England could work as fast as the unpaid volunteers of geocaching dot com, eh?

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up pizza which we scoffed whilst watching a couple of episodes of “Small Prophets”. It was rather good; even if I did spend much of the time watching it trying to work out what I’d seen the cast in.

 

I’m feeling a bit better than I did this morning… but still not one hundred per cent.

15 February 2026 (Sunday) - Early Shift, Bit Dull...

The dogs were restless in the night and woke me shortly after two o'clock.  I dozed on and off; finally giving up and getting up at half past four. I made toast and watched another episode of "Harlots" which was remarkably true to life in that the decent people got shat upon whilst the evil and self-centred prospered. There's a lesson there for all of us.

I put my brekkie stuff into the dishwasher (that I didn't set going last night) and set it going. That would be a little pressie for “er indoors ^TM” when she got up. And taking care not to disturb anyone I got ready for work and set off. The roads were very quiet today. I only saw four other cars in the ten miles between home and turning off of the A28 at Tenterden. I saw seven more as I drove along the A262, but things were busier on the A21; with twenty-four cars between Lamberhurst and work I saw over twice the amount of cars on the last six miles of the trip than I did on the first twenty-two.

As I drove I listened to the pundits on the radio. there was a surprisingly interesting article about how noisy it is in prison, and an interview with an archaeologist who has chucked in his trowel and become a sheep farmer in the Shetlands.

 

I got to work and cracked on with a rather busy morning. I would rather not have had to do so, but there it was. And it was raining anyway so I wasn't missing much.

Sadly the little shop in Sissinghurst was closed at half past six this morning, so I couldn't get one of the really good pasties they do. Instead I had to throw myself on the mercy of the works canteen. The food's not bad... but there's no denying that the other works canteen I sometimes frequent at the weekends is much better.

 

I came home to an empty house; “er indoors ^TM” had taken the dogs out. I sat on the sofa and had a little doze until they all came home (soaking wet) half an hour later.

I had a shower. I did some puzzles on chess dot com. I wrote up some CPD.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up cottage pie which we scoffed whilst watching a couple of episodes of “The Floor” which is quite engrossing… all the times the rounds are on subjects about which I have any idea. This evening’s rounds on soap stars and Eurovision were anyone’s guess, but I’m claiming a victory on the Team GB round when I identified “him who does the knitting”.

We’re now watching the Winter Olympics… the pairs skating… Am I being a tad puritanical in thinking that the more the skaters lack in talent, the less they wear? The last one might as well have been in the nip for all that her costume kept secret.

I must admit I’m watching it purely in the hope that either someone ends up flat on their arse or their tit pops out. And as I typed that so, the Canadian girl went face first into the ice…

 

I’m feeling rather washed out this evening. I hope I’m not sickening for something…

14 February 2026 (Saturday) - Dog Club, Woods, Lego, Games Night

I woke up shivering at three o’clock this morning: the dogs had captured most (if not all) of the duvet. I managed to get back to sleep for a bit.

I got up at seven and made toast. As I scoffed it I saw that my Facebook feed was awash with the news that having been elected on the promise of cutting taxes, our new Reform UK county council are actually putting the council tax up by four per cent. Mind you when I say “our new Reform UK county council” it’s actually “our old Tory county council”. It really is the same old piss in a different shaped bottle.

I saw a friend’s cat had died. Having lost his wife and his son, now his pet has gone. Some people really don’t have any luck.

My father in law had re-posted something on Facebook. Someone or other had posted to LinkedIn (yes – I know!) complaining that it costs a small business over a hundred thousand pounds to employ three full-time people (on minimum wage). Have I missed the point here… shouldn’t any employee (as an absolute minimum) make enough money for their company to cover their own wages?

 

I Munzed, Wordled from “radio” through “pouts”, “clock” and “blown” to “bloom”, and strained my brain at Steve’s “Guess the Lyrics” competition on the radio. “People stare and cross the road from me and jungle drums they all clear the way for me”. I had no idea either. It was “Is there something I should know” by Duran Duran.

 

We drove round to Repton and Dog Club… we had a good time… mostly. But things were a tad fractious. Some weeks every dog gets on famously with every other dog.  Some weeks there are quarrels and arguments. And when there are Morgan always feels the need to get involved. We had some spats today. All finished as quickly as they started, and Morgan immediately came away when called. But I’d rather we didn’t have the spats.

It was only a shame that Bailey was being hard work. She either stands still and doesn’t move, gets cold, starts shivering and needs to be bundled into my fleece. Or she runs off on her own little missions to find holes in the fence. Today she just stood and shivered until I bundled her into my fleece.

The nice lady from Doggy Dentals came along too because it is pet dental health month. She was offering a free once-over for anyone who wanted their dog’s gob checked out. Bailey and Treacle have got an appointment with her in a week’s time, but we’ve not taken Morgan to her so far. She had a look at his mouth and said he was fine. That was a result.

As we drove off so a little queue for check-ups was forming.

 

We thought we might take the dogs for a walk; after all Bailey had hardly moved (under her own steam).  As we drove Steve was doing the Mystery Year on the radio. Alvin Stardust and his co ca choo, Jon Pertwee leaving the Tardis… 1974. Today the radio signal started breaking up at the top of Charing Hill… so strange that the radio signal is good for twenty miles going west, but struggles to make five miles going north.

Bearing in mind that Kings Wood is usually heaving with the normal people at the weekends we drove up to Longbeech North where there was only one other car in the car park. We walked for two and a half miles and only saw one other person, and they were in the distance. And (as an added bonus) the woods were nowhere near as muddy as Kings Wood can be.

 

We came home where I put muddy dog coats and human trousers into the washing machine, and we had a cuppa and a cake. I sorted the Dog Club money; this fortnight no one had emptied all their loose change into the pot. There was a tenner, and some pound and fifty pence coins. I transferred the total (plus nine quid for our subs) from my current account into the Repton account, and pocketed the cash. I use it in the self-service machines in Sainsbury’s… The old bat in Sainsburys seems to have the hump when I fill the machine with coppers and five pences; it will be a shame that I can’t wind her up for a couple of weeks.

 

I hung out the washing, then spent a little while putting a Lego set together. I quite like the Lego botanicals: the mini-orchid is rather good.

I then rested my eyes for a bit… and woke up an hour and a half later.

 

Chris, Sarah and Steve came round, and we had a rather good evening on the Infinity Table. I came second to last in “Game of Life”, last in “Sorry”, offered sage advice in “Trouble” and came last in “Ticket to Ride”, but it is always good to catch up with friends. It was a shame that Morgan had to disgrace himself by helping himself to the chicken pieces, but that’s the sort of dog he is.

We’ve got another games night in the diary already…

13 February 2026 (Friday) - The News

I slept well, but was still awake far too early. I made toast and watched an episode of “Harlots”… Given that you were about to be hanged for a murder you didn’t commit, and got rescued and taken far away from the crime scene, would you *really* go back and parade around for all to see?

 

I had a little look at the Internet; it was much the same as ever. People were looking to argue about anything that they could possibly argue about. I wish they wouldn’t.

An old school friend had his birthday today. We used to get up to all sorts of mischief when we were ten; how can he be sixty-two?

I Munzed, then got ready for work.

 

I drove to work through a dark and foggy morning... and chuckled as the pundits on the radio told the world how bright it was in the South East.

As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking with Sir Gus O'Donnell who as Cabinet Secretary was once the country's top civil servant. Apparently the Prime Minister has had a falling out with his most recent successor. The ins and outs of the squabble are immaterial; what made me sit up and take notice was Sir Gus's comment about the theoretical interaction between the Prime Minister and the Cabinet Secretary. He felt that the Prime Minister should dream up policy which he would discuss with the Cabinet Secretary in the hope that the Cabinet Secretary agreed with what the Prime Minister had in mind; the implication being that the Cabinet Secretary could say "no" if he didn't agree.

Surely the Cabinet Secretary should do as he is told? 

 

And there was talk of some big international meeting at which the American Secretary of State told delegates from around the world that "The world is changing very fast right in front of us"  and that the European countries  "must prepare for independence from the US". That was being seen as a wake-up call to the world, but it's been pretty obvious that the USA is now sick of being the world' s policeman.

 

I popped into Sainsbury's to get lunch and a card for “er indoors ^TM” for tomorrow, and when I came back to the car so two bishops were arguing on the radio. Apparently the Church of England has abandoned proposals for same-sex blessing ceremonies. As it should (!)

Don't get me wrong - I'm all for anyone setting up shop with anyone else that they want to. But the Church of England simply can't do so whilst maintaining any credibility. Their bible is quite clear on the matter. It clearly says that being gay is a no-no. It's simply wrong, but it is clear on the matter. And if you are going to be a bishop and promise to uphold all the claptrap that goes with your religion, then there you go - you simply can't do the decent thing *because* your bible says you can't.

It amaze me how bishops can try to appeal to the gay community without throwing away everything they believe in.

 

Work was work. I did my bit and came home again. “er indoors ^TM” boiled up sausages and chips which we scoffed whilst watching this week’s episode of “Starfleet Academy” which was something of a disappointment compared with previous episodes. Sadly the arch-baddy they’ve picked for the show is a bit rubbish…

12 February 2026 (Thursday) - A(nother) Day Off

With “er indoors ^TM” off to the office today I thought we might help her get ready by getting out of her way. So we had an early Dog Breakfast then I took the pups out.

I did chuckle as we drove to the woods. The pundits on the radio were talking about the UK’s latest growth figures. Apparently the economy isn’t doing as well as some might like, and they wheeled on some independent member of the House of Lords who has a track record of being critical of the government’s financial record. But bringing this chap blew up in their faces. The bloke started off by saying that the news was nowhere near as bleak as it was being made out to be. And he said that the truth of the matter was that now that the Prime Minister’s position is no longer in question, the BBC were just looking for some other shit to stir. He listed all sorts of things that the government had done, and pointed out that they’ve met more of their manifesto promises than most governments have done. The pundits on the radio got rather twitchy and asked if this independent lord was actually as independent as he could be. The chap replied by pointing out that “independent” didn’t mean that he had to bend over backwards to find fault all the time.

He’s probably got a point.

 

We got to the woods and went for a rather good walk. As we went we didn’t see anyone else until we were almost back at the car park; that’s the way we like it. When we got to the car my MapMyWalk app said we’d covered four and a half miles; my watch said five and a quarter. Which (if either) do I believe?

 

We came home for a warming shower and belly wash. I voomed round the garden harvesting dog dung, put the dishwasher on, and as the dogs snored I had a cuppa. I then had my usual peer into the Internet. There was still more squabbling on the Facebook page about the Asda underpass. It’s quite clear that the locals would rather argue about it than have an underpass that doesn’t constantly flood.

I Munzed, Wordled from “about” to “surge” then popped over the road to the corner shop to get lunch. As I walked out of the front door I saw something odd… a stethoscope laying on the path of nice-next-door. I brought it it; it was wet so must have been there in the rain overnight. I sent her a message.

 

As I scoffed lunch (and then did the ironing) I watched a film I’d recorded from the telly. “Sense and Sensibility” was a load of tripe.  It started off with a bunch of women getting chucked out of a mansion the size of Buckingham Palace and we were supposed to feel sorry for them when they felt hard done by because they ended up in a twenty-plus bedroomed country estate which was clearly supposed to be a bad thing.

 

I managed to top up the bird feeder before the heavy rain started. I had planned to get the ultra-violet tubes out of the pond filters this afternoon, but that wasn’t going to happen. Instead I spent an hour or so creating a new geocaching Adventure Lab. Late last year it was suggested that we (the Kent hunters of Tupperware) club together to create a series of ad-labs in the shape of the Kent horse logo. The thing is slowly taking shape.

 

“er indoors ^TM” came home and boiled up a very good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching this week’s episodes of “The Traitors: Ireland” which was little more than one big argument… but it has to be said that the one whose birthday it was might as well have run round in the nip for all that her clothing kept hidden.

 

Oh – and I’ve been playing with the ChatGPT picture generator again. The picture looks very good… until you actually pay attention. There’s a great big hole in my left thigh, and I’m carrying four dog leads, but only two of them attach to dogs. And the one dog which isn’t on a lead is the one that (from sad experience) always needs to be the first to get put on a lead.

11 February 2026 (Wednesday) - Before the Late Shift

I slept well. I made toast, took another antibiotic and had a look at the Internet. It was still there. Someone had posted to one of the local Facebook groups saying that people asking for employment were more likely to get it if they used their own names when asking rather than some silly Facebook-generated nickname. It speaks volumes about the potential applicants that this needs to be pointed out.

I saw that there is to be a protest this weekend at the RNLI HQ protesting about lifeboats being used to save the lives of asylum seekers. There was one of those in Hastings a few years ago when some activists arranged to prevent the lifeboat being launched… and then a few months later the same sheep who’d blocked the lifeboat turned up to fundraisers to help those same asylum seekers… apparently rent-a-mob went along to wherever they saw the masses were being directed that week without a thought for what they were actually supporting.

And there were rumours about the derelict Odeon in Ashford to be refurbished, and endless suggestion about how they might do it and what they might do with it… with no-one having any idea who “they” might be.

These people are allowed to vote and do jury service, you know.

 

I sent out birthday wishes to two people with whom I used to work ten years ago. One was something of a religious nut. The other was something of a worry. One day he announced that he’d got a job in Southampton and said that he was looking at moving companies as he didn’t drive. I offered to drive a van…

We had a good day moving him, but I can remember loading up the van. It was just him and some bloke from work (me). I assumed all his mates would be at the other end to help with the unloading. We got to Southampton where there wasn’t anyone. Just me and him. I can also remember being very reluctant to leave him; he seemed happy enough but there was something rather sad about leaving him on his own. But twelve years later he’s still there, and seemingly happy enough.

 

I Munzed, Wordled from “drive” to “vegan”, then looked at the geo-map. Geocaching HQ had announced the requirements for the next load of Treasures which will go live next week. I had a look at the map and planned a couple of little geo-expeditions. I had a go at some puzzles on chess dot com, then amazed myself by beating a bot before writing up some CPD.

I didn’t take the hounds out this morning. It was wet and I didn’t have time to get to Kings Wood and back, and then bath the dogs before work. Over the summer we’d go to Orlestone, but that would have been an epic swamp today.

I thought about chasing a First to Find… a new geocache went live four days ago and no one had been to find it. The problem was that this one was in Whitstable, and working in Pembury today would have meant driving twenty miles in exactly the wrong direction before I even considered heading to work.

 

The dogs got rather excited as I got ready for work. They thought they were coming out with me. Sadly for all of us, they weren't. 

I drove round to the petrol station to refuel. As I came out I mumbled and muttered. The right turn to the motorway was blocked up and I had to go the long way round. It was as well that I did; three quarters of the way round I remembered I didn't need to go up the motorway today. Had there been no obstruction I would have been well on my way to Maidstone before I'd remembered. 

 

I'd also forgotten to get lunch so I popped into the little shop in Sissinghurst. The place had three or four young mothers (with their children screaming in the cars outside) doing their shopping. All in their pyjamas complete with fluffy slippers. Why do people go shopping in their pyjamas? 

 

I stopped off in Goudhurst as a few years ago I'd hidden a geocache there. I'd had reports that it had gone missing; it had. It didn't take *that* long for me to replace it. To be honest the people whinging that it had gone missing could have replaced it in less time than it took for them to whinge about it, but there it is.

And fuelled with geo-enthusiasm I stopped off in Pembury to log a find on a geocache that had been almost (but not quite) buried by the post box.

 

I went in to the late shift. I rather dread late shifts in a hospital which is a dedicated trauma centre. You'd think after all these years I would be a bit more used to the excitement, wouldn't you? Work could have been worse, but I got quite a bit of stick about what if the squirrel that bit me on Monday had been radioactive; I would now be the superhero "Squirrel Man", but what my special powers might be would seem to be anyone's guess... and there were a lot of guesses being made…

10 February 2026 (Tuesday) - A.I. Artwork

I slept well, but the bite on my finger was sore this morning, as was my arm where I’d had the injection. I’ve heard people whinge about injection sites being sore; I’ve not had one play up like this one before.

The nice nurse said to give the bandage on my finger a day, so I pulled it off this morning. Bandages are good for attention-seeking, but cuts (and presumably bites) heal better when left open.

 

I took another antibiotic, made toast and had a look at the Internet. Not a lot was going on. I rolled my eyes at some of the work-related Facebook pages on which so-called medical professionals bent over backwards to show their ignorance. I know the average person wouldn’t be able to distinguish between a Howell-Jolly body and basophilic stippling… but a reasonable comparison would be that a professional driver would know the difference between a bus and a train.

I sent out birthday wishes (via Facebook and WhatsApp), and spent a few minutes checking dates. I’m sure that yesterday was the birthday of someone who was once important in my life. It *might* have been an old drinking mate from my days at Brighton Technical College… I’ve not seen Dave Ferrief for years. I’ve tried to get in touch with him; the last I heard he was somewhere in Surrey.

 

The weather forecast was for light rain showers so I took the dogs out anyway. As we drove to the woods the pundits on the radio were talking about how the Prime Minister seems to have ridden out the scandal surrounding him… the scandal being that he was unaware of someone else being a wrong ‘un.

We got to the woods at about the time we were driving home yesterday, and there were a lot more cars in the car park today. There’s a lot to be said for getting there early. Had we been earlier we would have missed today’s idiot. As we walked one of the narrower paths so some woman came up the other way with two Boxer dogs. Her dogs were fine and didn’t seem to have any issues, but she went hysterical and shrieked that we had to go back the way we’d come because we couldn’t go anywhere near her. I find it is usually best not to argue with idiots so we back-tracked.

I mentioned this episode to other dog walkers we know; apparently despite being new to the Kings Wood dog walking scene, this idiot woman has made herself known. One or two were talking of reporting her, but I’m not sure to whom it is that you report idiots.

Our walk was muddy; despite chasing squirrels the dogs didn’t catch any today which was probably for the best… both for the squirrels and me.

 

After nearly five miles and nearly two hours we were back at the car. We came home for a bath. I made up both a cuppa, filled up the bird feeder and went round the garden hunting for dog dung.

I spent a little while writing up CPD, then played about making caricatures with ChatGPT.

 

I spent a while watching episodes of “Four In A Bed”. The last place to host in today’s episodes won today for the simple reason that the first place didn’t actually do breakfast, and the second and third places hated each other. 

And then I had a message. A chap with whom I went to school (from 1975 to 1981) will be back in the country in a week or so’s time. Did I fancy a little meet-up. I would. It would be good to organise a reunion… However there’s hardly anyone from the good old days at the Hastings Academy for Budding Geniuses who still lives in Hastings. I’ve posted to the school’s old boys Facebook group… You never know.

 

“er indoors ^TM” went off to her works quiz night. I sat in front of the telly with the dogs and binge-watched the new BBC production of “Lord of the Flies”. One of many books that the English teachers at school killed stone dead, it’s a rather good story. However what the BBC strung out over four hour-long episodes could have been better done in two.

I’ve got to go to work tomorrow…

9 February 202 6 (Monday) - Squirrel Bite

I stood on the scales this morning as I’d planned. My weight has held constant for the last two weeks. Oh well, as long as it’s not creeping up again, I suppose.

I made toast and had my usual look at the Internet as I do every morning. I hadn’t missed much overnight. Nothing appeared in my Facebook feed apart from some utter nonsense about improving sleep quality by going for three to four mile walks in the mornings (!)

I Munzed, then took the dogs for a walk.

 

We went to the woods. We were early this morning – at half past seven there wasn’t any other cars in the car park. It was rather misty; I hoped to see deer, but we didn’t. We had a quiet peaceful walk right up to the last half-mile when I could hear a screaming. Bailey had a squirrel in her mouth, and the other two were watching in much the same way that small children in a playground crowd round a scrap shouting “Fight! Fight”. The squirrel was screaming; I told Bailey to let it go which she did. I lifted the squirrel onto a branch where it would be safe; the bloody thing sunk its teeth into my finger. A classic example of the two hundred and eighty-fifth Rule of Acquisition. “No good deed ever goes unpunished”.

 

The blood poured out and over a minute passed before the squirrel finally let go. But rather than running up the tree it ran down to the ground where Bailey was waiting. Bailey caught it again and shook it like an old sock. This time Bailey gave it some serious stick and broke its back. Seeing the poor squirrel had had it I stomped on its head to put it out of its misery. And with the thing killed, Bailey lost all interest in it. Treacle then carried the carcass looking very proud with herself.

I then stood and watched the blood gushing from my finger with a sense of WTF do I do now? It had.(mostly) stopped bleeding by the time I got to the car. We came home where “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” and Pogo had arrived for a little visit. I washed my hand and the dogs, and the expert opinion was that I should have my hand looked at. So I ran “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” home, and as we drove so the most recent fruit of my loins called up the hospital waiting times app. As luck would have it, the shortest waiting time was at the Folkestone walk-in centre so once I’d dropped her and Pogo off I went there.

 

“Squirrel bite” raised a couple of eyebrows; the closest they’d had for some time was a tourist who’d had a nip off of a seagull. But I was in and out in a couple of hours. The main cause of delay was (so I was told) that squirrel bite isn’t something they see very often, and although the consensus was that I needed a tetanus jab, expert opinion was divided as to which antibiotics to prescribe. I spent a quiet couple of hours reading “Harry Potter” on my Kindle whilst the experts deliberated.

I got the tetanus jab, three days of antibiotics, and a nice bandage.

 

I came home where the dogs were all settled. Bailey clearly had no idea of what I’d gone through this morning. I put some washing in to scrub, made some toast for lunch took my antibiotic and watched some episodes of “Four In A Bed” which featured some silly chap who made a big show of telling everyone that he took great pride in being a disagreeable old scrote. He then took offence when all the other contestants treated him like a disagreeable old scrote.

 

I put a load of undercrackers in to scrub whilst “er indoors ^TM” boiled up burgers. We scoffed them then she went off bowling. I settled underneath a pile of dogs and watched more “Harlots”.

My finger is a tad sore, but where I had the tetanus injection is particularly tender.

8 February 2026 (Sunday) - Eastwell to Challock (and back)

Morgan’s snoring into my ear woke me this morning. I felt surprisingly chipper bearing in mind the amount of beer and port I put down my neck last night.

I got up, made toast and wrote up yesterday’s diary,,, eventually. My lap-top had a funny five minutes and wouldn’t highlight or copy any text, and wanted to open endless amounts of new word documents for absolutely no reason that I could fathom. Eventually I resorted to my universal fix – I pulled its plug and started again. Generally if pulling the plug doesn’t work then whatever the problem is, it is beyond fixing.

 

I had my usual rummage round the Internet; there were quite a few photos from the works outing yesterday. There had been some eighties music event in Maidstone yesterday. I’d been invited to go, but… I wasn’t keen and we had other plans. Going out is all very well, but as time goes on I’m going off of the idea. There isn’t a music event on the planet at which the volume is less than deafening. The event was heaving with the normal people. And I suspect the beer was about four times the price of the beer I had last night.

I Munzed, and got Wordle on the third attempt… there are only so many places that you can put an “m”.

 

We got the dogs organised and took them out. During the week someone had posted to the Ashford Area Country Walks Facebook page giving directions of a six-mile walk from Eastwell church. We had an idea that it might be a good route for a series of geocaches… 

It wasn’t.

With probably a third of it across wide-open fields, and a quarter of it along roads and lanes it wasn’t ideal for a trail of film pots under rocks. But it was a good walk through the countryside even if the local landowners did seem to have a bit of a thing for “Private – Keep Out” signs.

The dogs got to run off their leads for some of the way, but I watched Bailey “like a pork” (to coin a phrase) and the moment she showed any sign of getting the red mist up, she went straight back on the lead and we avoided any little episodes of standing at the edge of an impenetrable thicket waiting for her to get bored with snuffling after whichever mouse, rabbit, squirrel or figment of her imagination had set her off this time.

I took a few photos as we walked. We came home via Westwell where there was a geocache (it had to be done).

 

The dogs were filthy; they had a bath, and then we had a cuppa with Mr Kipling’s Easter mini-Battenbergs. Have you tried them? Supposedly raspberry flavour; they tasted of hubba-bubba bubblegum to me. They aren’t unpleasant, but they wouldn’t be my first choice of a cake.

 

I read more “Harry Potter” on my Kindle app and as I did, I felt a tad tired. I closed my eyes for a few minutes… and woke an hour and a half later. What a waste of an afternoon. I shall be wide awake in the small hours.

 

I wrote up a little CPD, then “er indoors ^TM” boiled up a chicken dinner which we scoffed whilst watching another episode of “The Floor”.

I shall read some more “Harry Potter” in a bit…  

I shall have a weigh-in tomorrow morning. What with a long walk today I’ve eaten two thousand calories less than I need to break even today. I bet my weight has gone up…