6 March 2026 (Friday) - Early Shift

I was wide awake far earlier than I might have been this morning. Having Treacle tangled in the CPAP machine’s hose didn’t help. I was reminded of one of the more simple minded cub scouts at camp one year who deliberately embroiled himself in a load of tent guy ropes then got in a total panic because he was stuck… and then did it all again.

 

I made toast and watched another episode of “Everyone Else Burns” which again brought back so many memories from my days of crackpot religion, then I had a look at the Internet.

My Facebook feed featured quite a few photos from yesterday. Yesterday was “World Book Day” which in theory is a brilliant idea. Sadly the application leaves something to be desired. You’d think that “World Book Day” would involve all sorts of events and activities at schools. Reading out excepts from your favourite book, acting out scenes, discussing motivations…

Sadly “World Book Day” is all about dressing up as your favourite character. And if your favourite character is actually from a cartoon on the telly and not from a book, then who cares? Certainly not the teachers; most of whom wouldn’t seem to have the faintest idea anyway. I found myself remembering a particularly vicious squabble from my time in (sadly long-dead) organised Star Trek fandom in which people who couldn’t be bothered to read a book would use the phrase “graphic novel” where everyone else would use the phrase “comic”.

 

I wandered off down the road to find my car. Despite it being a Friday there were absolutely no signs of the bin men being about. The bins hadn't been emptied and hadn’t been left completely blocking the pavement, and no one was shouting swear words. Perhaps they've turned over a new leaf... or got the hump and weren't coming?

 

I drove round to Sainsburys to get petrol and a sandwich. Being at the Ashford Sainsburys petrol station at half past six means that you get a very limited choice of sandwiches. Basically it's yesterday's leftovers or go without. Which is more than you get at the Aylesford Sainsbury petrol station who ding out their sarnies every evening and there's absolutely nothing to be had until they fill the shelves at some point in the mid-morning.

I had the choice of a dozen sandwiches left from yesterday. I got the ham and cheese one for the simple reason that it was the only one that didn't feature bacon. Eleven of the twelve leftover sandwiches had bacon in them. I've never understood why bacon is so popular and have always felt that the stuff is over-rated. It wouldn't bother me if I never had bacon ever again. Clearly I'm not alone in thinking that.

I got my petrol and set off to work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the war in the Middle East. Perhaps I'm being cynical in thinking this is just the latest chapter in an ongoing and never-ending conflict. This morning there was talk about how Iran is now launching attacks on Saudi Arabia and Qatar for seemingly no other reason than that it could.

I couldn't help but wonder if Prince Andrew has redeemed himself and the Gaza and Ukrainian situations are now totally resolved as all of those topics were headline news a few days ago but none warranted a mention today.

 

I got to work and made myself a cuppa and did Wordle before I started. Yesterday I started Wordle with "wanky" if only to see if the word would be accepted. It was, and so today I started with "shite" which was also allowed. And I had an email. The geo-feds were happy with the letter of permission I'd got from Forestry England, so we are all circuits go for a Midsummer's Eve picnic...

 

Work was work; being on the early it was still light when I got home. Raining, but still light. I made the most of the light and the rain by chucking a couple of buckets of diluted bleach round where I’d smelled mouse and rat wee the other day. Having given the area a bit of a dousing the rain would wash it clean… and hopefully Bailey won’t be quite so obsessed with hunting round the area.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up chicken and chips which we scoffed whilst watching Danny Dyer’s Caravan Park which is amazingly entertaining, and then a couple of episodes of “Motherland”.

I’ve worked two days on the trot… I’m worn out.

5 March 2026 (Thursday) - Bonus Day At Work

I had something of a restless night. I have those when I have an alarm set.

I made toast and watched an episode of “Everyone Else Burns” then sparked up the lap-top. A friend of forty-odd years was posting photos from Sydney harbour where it was raining. For some reason it struck me as odd that it would rain in Australia. Presumably it rains in Australia? It rains in other parts of the world.

And I saw that I’d received a “Top Fan Badge” of Facebook’s wire-haired dachshund page… which isn’t a page that I follow. What was that all about?

I did a YouGov survey, Munzed, set the dishwasher going and (taking care to let sleeping dogs lie) got ready for work.

 

As I drove up the motorway’s fast lane (as the other two lanes were filled with slow-moving lorries) the pundits on the radio were talking about the UK’s response to what (at the risk of appearing cynical) I can only describe as the latest war in the Middle East. The UK has sent out some fighter jets and will send a warship next week. I’m still rather vague about why the Americans and Israelis started the fight in the first place, and I can’t help but question the wisdom of getting involved in someone else’s squabbles.

Is that wrong of me?

 

Pausing only briefly at Sainsburys for a sandwich I was soon at work. I got there early and had a cuppa before I started. I also Wordled; starting with “wanky” if only to see if it would be accepted as a word. It was. It’s in the dictionary. One lives and learns.   

And with my cuppa downed I cracked on with work. I wasn’t originally supposed to be in today, but the boss had messaged yesterday and said that they would be short-handed today. Could I step into the breach? Bearing in mind the contempt which the management where I used to work showed me, I quite like being asked to help.

 

At tea break I had an email. The nice lady at Forestry England had given permission for my planned geo-meet in Kings Wood. She says we can have a maximum of twenty-five people. I’d be surprised if we scared up a dozen. I’ve forwarded her letter to the geo-feds; hopefully they will accept the letter. If not I’ve still got some time before I give up on the idea. In any case I’ve still got a few weeks before the website will allow me to create the web page for the event.

 

I came home. The Amazon man had been with the anti-rat stuff. They are little pouches that smell really strongly of antiseptic *Really* strongly. I’ve put one in place. I’ll give till Saturday and if it hasn’t rained by then I’ll have a slosh round with some bleach and try another pouch.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good bit of scoff which we devoured whilst watching the latest episode of “Star Trek; Starfleet Academy”. I won’t say that it was crap, but the secret of good sci-fi (or any fiction really) is believable characters…  We’re at the ninth episode and I’m not really warming to any of them…

I want to like the show (after all I’m a Trekkie) but it’s not easy…

4 March 2026 (Wednesday) - Foggy

I had a terrible night… I woke to the sound of a huge crash at half past two. It could only have been the sound of someone falling down the stairs… and then there was silence. I lay awake for two seconds thinking that “er indoors ^TM” was laying dead at the bottom of the stairs, and then she snored.

As I got up to investigate so three dogs moved into the warm spot I’d vacated.

I came downstairs to find absolutely nothing awry (apart from some turds by the back door where someone had tried to get outside but met a locked door). What could that crash have been?

I then lay awake for over an hour. I eventually nodded off only to wake in a cold sweat following a nightmare in which I was in prison for no apparent reason and was running an illicit bar and toiletry supply shop, and the inmates were getting rather cross about the poor ale selection and the colour of the washbags.

I lay awake for another hour before nodding off… only to find myself embroiled in another nightmare in which I was teaching the trainees at work how to recognise various stars, planets and constellations only to have the bosses complaining that these lessons should be done in daylight hours so that everyone could see what was going on.

 

I got up, made toast and had a look at the Internet. I had a message from Facebook. Last week I reported a video in which some chap was getting spiders to fight each other to the death. Apparently that doesn’t breach their community standards.

There wasn’t much else happening on-line this morning. I Munzed, Wordled from “hours” through “chain”, “wheel” and “theme” to “theft”, then got ready for the off.

 

I took the dogs up to the woods where the car park was very empty – there were only four other cars. Had the fog put people off? It was a very foggy morning. Although the fog slowly cleared, when we started our walk there was at best only twenty yards visibility.

As it was so foggy I took the longer route through what is often the muddier part of the woods in the hope of seeing deer. We didn’t see deer, but I think I heard a boar snuffling, and we rescued a normal person. At about our furthest point from the car park we met a young lady with camera and tripod who sadly asked if I could help her as she’d lost her bearings. She had a map… but a map is only any use if you know where you are on the map. I put her right and left her to her photography.

And fifty yards later the path was blocked where a tree had come down.

As we came back to the car park (where there is internet signal) my phone pinged about a new geocache which was only a mile away and had gone live whilst we’d been on our walk… and had been found for the first time whilst we’d been on our walk. Ho hum…

 

With walk walked we came home. The dogs were surprisingly clean so we skipped bath. I made us both a cuppa then I had a pootle in the garden. I topped up the bird feeder, and had a little look-see. Much of the bigger plants in big pots are sprouting again. The polyanthus are in flower. One or two of the potted plants look a bit iffy, but I’ll give them a week or so.

Last weekend we got some seeds and daffodils from the garden centre (the one that Bailey didn’t crap in). Today I put the daffodils into a plant box and planted the seeds. The instructions mentioned about keeping them warm so I’ve made a makeshift greenhouse in the back room. The seeds might sprout; they might not. Time will tell – it always does.

As I did the seeds so I was very conscious of a smell of tiddle. Was it the dogs? I suspect it might be rats and/or mice going after the seed the birds spill from the feeders. There’s always been rats and mice in the back gardens down our road ever since the council built houses over the back (many years ago). I’ve tried humane traps which have caught mice… but I’m then left with the dilemma of what to do with the mice which I’ve caught. I’m too soft to kill them myself, and when I’ve released them at the far end of the garden, Treacle has then caught them herself (and eaten them!)

I’ve been onto Amazon and got some peppermint oil jollop the smell of which is apparently abhorrent to rodents. It might work; it might not. Again, time will tell.

 

I came in, had a hot cross bun for dinner and spent an hour marking a trainee’s essay on bleeding disorders, then cracked on with the ironing. As I ironed I watched episode of “Four In A Bed” as I do. And it was rather entertaining. The episodes went from a rather nice hotel in Aberdeen to a posh country club in the Midlands to a delightful guest house in the Lake District. And every place had its supposed faults pointed out by some chap running a rather grim backstreet Blackpool B&B.

As I watched telly so I took ironing out of the washing machine and put more in. There’s never a dull moment in my life…

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled me up a plate of egg and chips and went out to dinner with her mates. I wrote up a little CPD… and then I settled in front of the telly. Today’s been rather busy. Today was supposed to be a day off. I’m working five of the next seven days. Just like being full time again…

3 March 2026 (Tuesday) - Early Shift

I woke at half past four feeling like death warmed up. What was that all about? I got up, made toast and sparked up the telly. I watched an episode of "Everybody Else Burns" with a wry smile. Have you seen the show - it's about a family of religious crackpots who go to a loony-fundamentalist church. For all that we all laugh at the religious nutters, being an ex-religious nutter myself the show struck a chord. I could see myself and many of the people with whom I used to go to church in that show. And looking back they really were "the people with whom I used to go to church" and (for quite a few of them) not "friends". 

 

Taking care not to disturb “er indoors ^TM” and the dogs I got dressed in the dark and set off to work. The moon was quite pretty as I drove, but by the time I found somewhere that I could park which had a decent view of the horizon the moon had set and the sun was up.

As I drove I listened to the pundits on the radio. Over the weekend that idiot Trump has started yet another war in the Middle East. For all that he keeps banging on about wanting a Nobel Peace Prize, he's quite keen on war. He's been lambasting the Prime Minister for not wanting to get involved. I can't help but think that the more that the international community treat that idiot Trump like the idiot that he so demonstrably is, the better. 

 

I stopped off at Tesco in Pembury to get a sandwich. I paid by filling the self-service machine with all my loose change. Unlike Sainsburys in Aylesford no one seemed to care. As I walked out I noticed there were two security thugs guarding the door. There were four security thugs on guard at Hastings railway station as I came home yesterday. Guarding places seems to be something of a growth industry; why does everywhere need to be guarded these days?

 

I went in to the early shift and did my thing. As I did, I spent much of the day thinking about yesterday's meet-up with my old muckers. The pals I met yesterday have pretty much ended up just like me. Not rich. Not poor. Probably best described (as my old boss in the Harbour restaurant predicted forty-five years ago)  as "comfortable".  I can remember my old boss from the Harbour restaurant telling me that I would be comfortable in life... and he said that being comfortable in life was about the worst thing that could happen to anyone. Was he right?

From our chat yesterday I think it's fair to say that all three of us are pretty much content with our lot in life. But we'd all expected to end up in a far better position bearing in mind what we'd been led to believe from having listened to all the propaganda about a grammar school and university level education. Yesterday we'd talked of others in our circle who'd ended up with much more than we have. Don't get me wrong - I'm not jealous (well, not *that* jealous), but I did think "what if" quite a bit today.

Some of our contemporaries were (and some still are) directors of international companies, admirals, ambassadors... Would I have liked to have ended up as a consultant surgeon or a university professor? Had things turned out differently I might have been, but would I have been happier? I'm reminded of that famous maxim quoted by many celebrities that at various times they'd been very poor and very rich, and looking back they preferred very rich. And also of another which says that money doesn't buy you happiness, but it allows you to be miserable in comfort. As I've often said, I'm far from poor, but I would like to be a whole lot better off.

Are those of our contemporaries who are now millionaires happy? Yesterday we talked about one of them who (like me) has posted a lot of photos to social media, and we all agreed that in every single photo he looked incredibly smug.

Like I would be with his money…

2 March 2026 (Monday) - Reunion

Apart from a rather vivid nightmare in which we’d moved house to somewhere with no light switches I had a rather good night’s sleep.

I got up at half past seven, made toast, and my piss boiled. I try not to rant about lefty woke bollox because I’m probably quite a woke lefty myself, but my piss boiled as I read what George Takei had posted to Facebook this morning. Apparently if you are perpetually late for work because you are too bone idle to get your arse out of bed, you can just claim to have “time blindness”. And it is a real thing too.

I Munzed, Wordled from “house” through “scare” and “spine” to “slime”, then got ready for the off.

 

Leaving “er indoors ^TM” with the dogs I walked up to the train station and got a ticket to Hastings. Again the price charged at the counter bore absolutely no relation to what I’d been quoted on-line.

Getting the train was quite an adventure; I’ve not been on one for a few years. But it wasn’t long before I was in Hastings. I rummaged by a billboard near the station for geocachical reasons and found a geocache there. I then walked over the West Hill where I failed to find three others, but I redeemed myself by finding three in the Old Town. And having constructively (!) spent the morning I went down to the First In Last Out where I met up with a couple of old friends. One was over from Canada who I’d not seen since 1982. Another has been on my Facebook list for some time, but we’d not met in person since 1995.

We spent a rather good three hours catching up, remembering old days. One of us retired from programming Canadian computers nearly ten years ago, one of us is semi-retired from blood testing, and one spent years in the pharmaceutical industry and now makes (among other things) night vision goggles. All with the same start in life; all now completely different… But it was as though only a few weeks had passed.

It was so good to catch up. We really must do this sort of thing more often.

 

All too soon the clock had beaten us. We walked back through the Old Town and into Hastings. The place has changed beyond all recognition. When I lived there the Old Town was very run-down and Hastings itself had all the shops. Now the decent shops are all in the Old Town and Hastings itself is just… well… “grim” is probably the best word to describe it.

In a novel break with tradition I stayed awake all the way home…

1 March 2026 (Sunday) - Wet Sunday

Apart from two trips to the loo in the night I had a good night, finally getting up at half past nine. I’ve not laid in for that long for ages.

I started the morning with something of a technical failure. “er indoors ^TM” had set the toaster to “crumpets”, and when you put bread in on that setting it just warms the bread a little. But there’s no point in trying to put the warmed bread back in again to finish the job because the toaster just takes offence and then incinerates it.

And then my lap-top refused to do anything with any speed. Re-booting eventually sorted it out.

 

Having finally got on-line, I saw there wasn’t a lot happening really. My Facebook feed was filled with adverts for static caravans and holiday chalets. I looked at a couple of sites last night after watching the Danny Dyer program… not that I could see very much of my Facebook feed. For some inexplicable reason the feed screen was perpetually scrolling down. What was that about? If there was a key stuck then this would have stuffed up every other website I visited, but they were all fine. Just Facebook being a pain.

Another re-boot sorted that.

I Munzed. Being the first of the month I chucked everyone out of the clan in readiness for the Clan War starting on Tuesday. I Wordled from “being” through “tread” and “scope” to “fluke”, then got ready for the morning.

 

It was raining but we went to the garden centre. We had a voucher from Christmas to use. We looked at bedding plants… they only had polyanthus and we’ve still got them from last year. We got some pansy and viola seeds; I’ve got compost and seed trays. I can have a go and if they haven’t grown by the end of the month I can get some from the garden centre when they say they will have some in.

We took the dogs with us. It wasn’t much of a walk but taking them to Dobbies meant they think they’ve had an outing. Making sure that Morgan was marched up the centre of every aisle stopped him peeing on things… but once again the award for *not* taking a dump in the garden centre went to Bailey. What is it about Dobbies that has such a laxative effect on Treacle and Morgan?

 

We came home via the little row of shops in Singleton where we got a cake for lunch… and we got talking to some woman who was a tad distraught. As she’d driven round a nearby roundabout so a passing car had crashed into her car; taken much of the front off of it, and then sped off.

What would you do in a situation like that? By the time you realise what has happened the other car is well out of sight. I had something not entirely dissimilar when I was driving to see my dad when he was in Eastbourne hospital. A white van was coming head on at me, and by the time I’d smashed up the side of my car that van was well away. As the insurance company chap said, these cars are probably not insured.

 

We came home. It was raining; I can do the seeds in the week. We had a cuppa and some cake, and I wrote up the week’s continuing professional development. I have to stay abreast of the latest developments in blood testing. Everyone who is a registered medical professional has to stay up to date with their field. It’s a legal requirement and a really good idea too; when I first started back at the now-demolished Royal East Sussex Hospital it was amazing how out of touch some people were.

The biggest problem with doing CPD is actually finding out about the latest developments in blood testing. Not that there’s any shortage of information, but for every one bit that is useful to me there’s a dozen bits of utter irrelevance from commercial companies trying to sell things, or stuff written in what amounts to a foreign language from managers trying to impress the easily impressed.

 

I did the dogs’ flea treatments which went rather easily today. It’s a simple process. Each dog has a little tube of jollop which I rub on the back of their necks. Sometimes (like today) I just rub it on the back of their necks whist they sit nicely. Other times I have to chase them round the house, wrestle them down and pin them to the floor to get the stuff anywhere near them.

And with not a lot else planned for the day I opened up the Lego maple tree set I’d got for my birthday last week and spent a couple of hours putting it together. I’m quite pleased with how it’s turned out.

 

I read my Kindle for a bit until dinner time when “er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good roast which we scoffed whilst watching the semi-final of “The Floor” and then I refereed “dog afters” when the pups each got a bowl of vegetables covered in chicken fat. It was good to see Bailey eating something. She really tucked in, and told Morgan off when he’d finished his and came looking to her bowl for extras.

In retrospect little Bailey might have had too much. She does look very bloated. I expect there will be some farting later…

28 February 2028 (Saturday) - It Didn't Rain

I slept reasonably well. I woke t half past six, got up and made toast. As I scoffed it whilst peering into Facebook I was presented with a few adverts asking for people to volunteer to help as a scout leader. Lucy Spraggan (no – I had no idea either) was saying that all you needed was enthusiasm and a willingness to get stuck in. I was once asked to volunteer to help as a scout leader, and whenever I hear people being asked to do this I always feel the need to voice a note of caution. When I got involved everyone asking for help was so quick to say that scouts was just an hour a week. They would all gloss over the fact that the weekly meeting lasted for two hours. Then there was the preparation for that weekly meeting which generally took up another evening each week. There was always at least one scouting event (outings, district sporting competitions…) which took up one weekend day every month. There were three weekend holidays away with the scouts every year, as well as the week-long summer camp. Add on to this various committee meetings on whatever weekday evenings you had free. And any spare weekend time would be spent on fundraising to subsidise the parents who drove bigger cars than the one I had and who lived in bigger houses than I did…

The gratitude for becoming a helper didn’t last long, and very soon became guilt-tripping when my every moment wasn’t available for scouting.

Anyone thinking of volunteering to help with scouting needs to make it crystal clear exactly just how much time they can offer. The more you offer, the more scouting will expect (and take).

And there was an impressive squabble happening on one of the Geocaching Facebook pages in which some idiot was whinging that the Geocaching corporation didn’t sell good flashlights (or “torches” as they are called in the UK). Apparently when geocaching, every bit of kit you use has to bear the “Geocaching” logo. For some inexplicable reason this idiot was adamant that he couldn’t use just any old torch.

There wasn’t a lot else of note on the Internet this morning. I sent out birthday wishes to the two Facebook friends who were having a birthday today, Munzed, and Wordled from “today” to “hydra”; how many other words have a “D” in the middle and a “Y” not at the end?

 

As I fiddled on-line so Steve was on the radio. Guess the lyrics today was “what happened to the girl I used to know”. No – my immediate reaction was that I didn’t have a clue until Steve mentioned that it was from one of his favourite bands. The penny dropped - ELO – “Don’t Bring Me Down”.

 

Being Saturday we drove round to Repton and Dog Club. It was rather cold and rather muddy today, but the forecast rain didn’t come whilst we were there. Treacle played with one of the children. I say “played”; the little girl tried to get the ball from Treacle, and Treacle tried not to let her. Morgan charged around and played rough and tumble with his mates. And Bailey just stood and shivered until I stuffed her inside my coat. Bailey is a worry. I took a few photos as I do… and fed one into ChatGPT.

As we drove home so Steve was doing the Mystery Year competition on the radio. In which year was the first website created and Helen Sharman (the first British astronaut) go into space? 1991.

 

We got home. Grubby dogs were bathed and I counted the Dog Club takings. Bearing in mind the subs is one pound fifty per dog, how can we end up with an odd forty pence?

And with the car parked directly outside the house and rain forecast I had ideal conditions for pressure-washing the front garden. It didn’t take *that* long to set the pressure-washer up. I scrubbed the concrete at the front of the house three times, and swept away seemingly gallons of mucky water. As I scrubbed and swept so not-so-nice-next-door was coming in and out of her house with no end of boxes and bags and three or four suitcases. Was she going on holiday or moving out? As she came in and out she glared at me, and (sadly) that was probably as communicative as she gets. It’s such a shame… She’s been next door for close on thirty years and makes absolutely no attempt whatsoever to even try to be civil.

 

“er indoors ^TM” went off visiting relatives for the afternoon. With the forecast rain still not arrived I cracked on in the garden and got the lawn mowed. I say “mowed”; it was more along the lines of a preliminary scalping. The first cut of the year is always something of a rough and ready one, but a cut lawn makes finding dog turds a lot easier. 

 

I might have overdone the morning’s pressure-washing and lawn mowing, so I settled in front of the telly with the dogs and sparked up Netflix. “The Holdovers” was a rather entertaining film, as was “Margaret Thatcher – The Long Walk To Finchley”.

As I watched the telly I kept glancing at the window. Still no rain, and still stuff I might be doing in the garden. But still I ached.

 

“er indoors ^TM” came home with kebabs which we scoffed whilst watching “Danny Dyer’s Caravan Park” which was a rather good TV show about someone who used to be in EastEnders who had bough a part-share in a caravan park in Leysdown.

It was surprisingly captivating…

 

And as I’m thinking about bed it didn’t rain at all today, and not-so-nice-next-door is in and playing her piano…