17 September 2026 (Thursday) - M.O.T.

I found a position in which I can sleep on my side without the carpal tunnel nonsense kicking off, and I slept till eight o’clock.

I made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do every morning. It was still there, and much the same as ever. One thing on Facebook made me think. Several pages had posts about influencer claiming her holiday had been ruined after paying a Cornish local good money for directions to a secret beach which didn’t exist.

However for all that the world and his wife were queuing up to rip into this idiot, I tried to look a little deeper. All the articles on line said that “Surrey-based content creator Chardonnay Skye, known online as ChardOnTour, had been searching for somewhere to film on Cornwall’s north coast…” so I Googled. All that came up were links to the story on various social media platforms. There was nothing that I could find about “Chardonnay Skye” or “ChardOnTour”. Was it all made-up bollox? Clearly everyone is seeing it and spreading the story without checking anything.

 

It was raining… well, drizzle. We went for our walk anyway. Despite the wet day there were two other cars in the car park at Orlestone, but fortunately the twit who sits in his car giving a running commentary of the world wasn’t there. We went for a little walk, and suddenly there was a commotion. One of the normal people had come out of a path about fifty yards behind us and Morgan and Bailey had gone to shout at him. I whistled and they both came running. Their recall is rather impressive when it works.

I’d told the dogs they weren’t to roll in fox poo. To be fair to them I didn’t say anything about not eating the stuff and so Bailey had a mouthful. And then Morgan had a roll anyway. Treacle didn’t wade into the huge puddle at the top of the woods so I shall be grateful for small mercies.

We came home through Shadoxhurst avoiding the ongoing traffic hold-ups at Magpie Hall Road. I usually forget those, and spend an age sitting at a red light.

 

Once home we had a bath. Fox poo notwithstanding, paws and bellies were grubby. The dogs then had a late brekkie and Bailey ate all of hers; proving the theory that she doesn’t eat when faced with the prospect of going for a walk.

I Munzed, Wordled from “found” to “theta” (stupid word) in five goes, then took the car to Halfords for its MOT.

 

I left the car with the nice people and went for a little walk. I went round all of the garages looking at cars. As I’d driven to the woods earlier so the car’s odometer went over ninety thousand miles. Who’s going to buy a car with that mileage? I will be running this car into the ground, but what will I get when it is time for a replacement? I have one criterion for the next car (and only one); the boot opening must be low enough for the dogs to be able to jump in and out. Sat nav would be nice as would a reversing camera, but they are optional. A low opening boot is a must.

I certainly looked at over a hundred cars. As I looked only one salesman approached me. If I had worn a shirt and tie they would have been all over me. I said as much to the one salesman who spoke to me; he agreed. The chap didn’t actually laugh at what I felt was my priority; he said everyone has what is important to them. But he said that most cars don’t have those low backs any more. From what I saw today he was right. The Skoda dealer had some… the same model as my current car. And the Toyota dealer had two (at twice the price of the Skodas). A trip to Big Motoring World might be in order when the time comes.

As I wandered from one car dealership to another so my watch wobbled and told me that I’d walked four miles going here and there. Four miles just looking at cars – and I’ve no interest in cars(!)

 

I popped into McDonalds for lunch as I was in the area. Back in the day I was always in McDonalds. Back in the day I was three stones heavier. A decent bit of McScran set me back nearly four times the price of a Sainsbury’s meal deal.

 

I collected my car. It had one minor advisory; the light over the number plate needs replacing. That can wait till the car next needs a service. And since I’m a member of the Halfords Motoring Club I got the MOT for free.

This Halfords Motoring Club is something of a result. I joined a few weeks ago when I needed a new car battery. The nice lady said that if I joined there and then (for fifty quid) they would give me sixty quid off of the price of the battery. And then they made all sorts of reductions on the service earlier in the month. What with today’s buckshee MOT, according to my account with them I’ve saved over a hundred and fifty quid so far. I don’t usually give out adverts on here, but you’d be daft not to take up Halfords’ offer.

 

I came home and spent an hour hacking back more of the overgrowth coming over the fence from not-so-nice-next-door. I really gave it some welly… part of me felt guilty, but I’ve asked her to sort it and she’s done nothing. And bearing in mind I was standing two feet away from the fence as I pruned, it certainly needed doing.

 

I made us a cuppa and then sat down. I was worn out from today’s exertions. “er indoors ^TM” boiled up a rather good curry which we scoffed whilst watching this week’s episode of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds”.

I won’t give any spoilers (maybe just one that I couldn’t resist…) but again it was a really good episode that the fans who are new to the genre will hate…

 

And I’ve been pondering for much of today. Several people I know have (relatively) recently jacked it all in and emigrated (is that the right word?) to Scotland. The chap who took over from me at work when I came home last night told me that he’s working his notice. He’s been offered a job at the labs at the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital in Glasgow where he will get five hundred quid a month more than he gets now for doing exactly the same job.

Have I left it too late to go north of the border?

16 September 2026 (Wednesday) - Before The Late Shift

 I slept well again, and “er indoors ^TM” had turned her alarm off too. Bonus.

I made toast and had a look at the internet. One of the sci-fi pages I follow on Facebook had a picture of a compilation of lots of robots from various science fiction films and shows. You wouldn’t believe the squabbling it provoked about whether or not a dalek is or isn’t a robot. And one of the local Facebook pages featured photos of cats crapping on someone’s lawn. Some local idiot was fed up with cat turds and had decided to shame his neighbours. As if a cat would give a shit (figuratively; we know they do literally).

I Munzed, unlocking a Qrate as one does. I Wordled from “turds” through “spank” and “copse” before ending with “wispy” (for the simple reason that it was the only word that I could think of).

 

As I Munzed so “er indoors ^TM” stood over Bailey trying to get her to eat. We’ve realized that when I’m at work she eats her all of brekkie, but when I’m home she doesn’t. She’s too preoccupied with the thought of going out.

Today she ate maybe half of her brekkie before going into the hallway (where the leads are kept) where she quite openly started the queue for walkies.

 

As I drove the dogs down to Orlestone so the pundits on the radio were interviewing Rick Wakeman about the late David Bowie. The claim was made that David Bowie was the first person to ask if there was life on Mars… and this was presented as a serious proposition.

 

We got to Orlestone where there were quite a few cars in the car park. The frankly odd bloke was again sitting in his car shouting a running commentary into his phone. We left him to it. Foragers were foraging, and there were quite a few dogs being walked. A mile into the woods and they were still on their leads. One woman gave us the evil glare as we walked past. People like her boil my piss. If you won’t let your dogs run and you aren’t happy watching other dogs doing what dogs do, why not walk the streets of the town where dogs *will* be on leads.

Winter must be coming – I wore a jumper as we walked for the first time in months.

 

We came home where I showered the fox poo off of Bailey. I wrote up some CPD, and set off to the late shift. As I drove I listened to more of the audiobook of “All Quiet on the Western Front”. I’ve seen the film a few times relatively recently but have not read the book for years. I’d forgotten how profoundly depressing it was. I’m tempted to give up with it.

 

And the day was effectively done by the time I rolled into work at mid day…

15 September 2026 (Tuesday) - A Bit Of Whinging

I slept well… once I got to sleep. What with this carpal tunnel nonsense my arm seriously hurts unless I lay on my back.

I got up earlier than I might have done and watched an episode of “Alley Cats”; Ricky Gervais’s latest thing. It was rather good.

 

The internet was rather quiet at six o’clock this morning so I Munzed, Wordled from “hurts” through “tribe”, “metal” and “leapt” to “dealt”. I got ready for work and set off for work.

 

As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio were saying that Donald Trump has announced that any possibility of artificial intelligence taking over the world is a hoax. That's nice. We can all sleep safely following this latest pronouncement from the world's most powerful and most feeble-minded simpleton. I really don't understand why the American congress doesn't just give him a colouring-in book to keep him occupied whilst someone who isn't demonstrably senile is found to take command.

Meanwhile one of Vladimir Putin's cronies has paid for Donald Trump's son's wedding... would any other world leader allow that? Quod erat demonstrandum as they used to say in ancient Rome...

 

I went into Sainsburys to get lunch. I thought about taking in cakes to celebrate yesterday's anniversary... but thought better of it. There have been many changes in the workplace over the years; both in the technicalities of what we do and in the culture. And perhaps one of the worst changes is the reduction in people bringing in cakes. For the most part it really is a thing of the past

And I had a message from “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM”. She’d been taking Pogo for a walk when he’d gone rogue and whipped a homeless chap’s lunch. He’s done similar things when I’ve taken him out before. Twice. It’s rather amusing all the time someone else is walking him and all the time he’s having someone else’ lunch.

 

Being on an early shift I got out of work promptly. As time goes by I’m finding the early starts to be getting more like hard work. But I like the early finish. I came home and spent much of the early evening dozing. The constant pain of this carpal tunnel nonsense is rather wearing. As is the constant whistling of the tinnitus.

I really don’t like whinging about it almost as much as I don’t like the ongoing pain and whistling.

There’s talk of a bottle of plonk with dinner later…

14 September 2026 (Monday) - Rostered Day Off

I slept like a log last night. The road trip to the Midlands, Nepalese curry, family party and late shift over a very busy weekend had taken its toll.

 

I made toast and (being back to the usual routine) had a look at the Internet. Someone with whom I went to college many years ago was posting climate change denial propaganda. That winds me up. Climate change is real – you can see it happening. Where there used to be cod in the English Channel there’s now dolphins and tuna. When did we last have enough snow for a sledge? When did we last have a proper summer like we had when I was a lad when every day *wasn’t* ridiculously hot?

And I found out that the world is ending in a couple of months.

One lives and learns.

And (for once) I saw the sort of thing that I have Facebook for. A friend had been to Finland to take part in the Nordic Walking World Championship. That’s what I want to see as I scoff my toast.

I Munzed, Wordled and went to wake “er indoors ^TM” and the dogs. If I have a lie-in she has an alarm set. If I don’t, she doesn’t either.

 

I took the dogs up to the woods. Sadly it is now foraging season. For the next few weeks all of the thickets within a quarter of a mile will be heaving with all sorts of people desperately seeking chestnuts and mushrooms and whatever it is that people forage for.  What none of them realise is that by this afternoon everything forage-able would have been foraged, but that won’t stop them. If any of them would walk for more than five minutes they would find an entire forest full of stuff worth having, but hardly anyone seems to forage out of sight of the car park.

If nothing else it gives the dogs something to bark at.

We had a good walk. We did our usual circuit. We didn’t see any deer, but something big was crashing about at the far end of the woods, and we chased a few squirrels.

 

We came home. I made us both a cuppa and we had one of the cakes that “er indoors ^TM” had made, and then I had a look in the garden. There was a load of soil round the bottom of one of the planters and the conifer pot. That mess wasn’t there yesterday. I had hoped the conifer pot had rusted through. I hoped in vain. A rat had chewed its way into the back of the planter. I emptied it all out and tided up. As I did so the back of the planter fell apart. I shall fix that another time.

I put shirts in to wash. I harvested dog turds. And seeing the lawn was long enough to hide the turds I ran round with the lawn mower. And whilst I was at it I hacked back more of the brambles coming over the fence from not-so-nice-next-door. As I hacked I saw she’d had a go at the brambles on her side, so that has got to be a result. Hint taken, perhaps?

 

No day off work is complete without ironing. And with ironing done I tried to quietly sneak outside, but it was “that time” and I was being watched like a pork (to coin a phrase). So I made the announcement “I’M GOING TO FEED THE FISH” and the dogs flew to the pond, with Treacle squealing in excitement.

I then carried on solving geo-puzzles and I had a message. The Dog Club squabble seems to be over for now, and the later group have asked if we’d like to hang on later this weekend as they’ve got a photographer coming. It’s a kind thought but to my mind the days of a professional photographer are numbered. Trying to get a dog to pose takes some doing, and I can’t help but think that I get every bit as good a photo off of the camera on my phone as from a fancy camera. I’m not keen on shelling out a tenner (per dog) for photos of my three which I can get buckshee.

 

By late afternoon the undercrackers were washed and dried (never a dull moment!). I put another load of washing in to scrub and “er indoors ^TM” boiled up pizza and chips then went bowling.

I settled down and watched the last episode of “Upstairs Downstairs”. What can I watch next?

 

And in closing, today marks forty-five years since I first started work in blood testing. Let’s just say that I’ve been in my current place of work for nine and a half years and they’ve been the happiest nine and a half years of my working life. Being happy in your work is important – for a *very* long time I wasn’t.

13 September 2026 (Sunday) - Late Shift

I didn’t sleep as well as I’d hoped I would. Six pints of ale and far too much Nepalese curry hadn’t been sitting too well yesterday when I then dumped five more pints and a kebab on top.

I finally got settled when “er indoors ^TM” alarm went off (for no reason) at half past seven.

 

I got up, put a load of washing in, made toast, and had a look at the Internet to see if I’d missed much. There was a rather impressive squabble on the Dog Club WhatsApp group. No matter what the subject (Star Trek fandom, keeping reptiles, fishing, pub crawls, astronomy, 70s music, cookery garden ponds, astronomy, dachshunds, geocaching, Lego…) eventually it just dissolves into quarrelling.

 

I Munzed, Wordled and hung the washing out. Ideally I would have taken the dogs out, but it was raining and there were thunderstorms forecast. So I sat on the sofa (with Bailey cuddled up to me) and solved geo-puzzles. A new lot had gone live yesterday in the general vicinity of Edenbridge. As I solved them I saw that someone had got the First to Find on all of them this morning. That someone lives just up the road. With an hour and a quarter drive (according to Google and our previous experience) having logged the first one at quarter to seven he would have left home at half past five; an hour before dawn. He logged the last one at twenty to nine having covered twenty-four caches over a four-mile route. He must have run from cache to cache. In heavy rain.

Some people love it.

I paid my road tax. Twenty quid for the year. That can’t be bad. But there is now this nonsensical thing that if I sell the car, the road tax is non-transferrable. I would have to claim a refund, and the buyer then shell out the tax again.

And then it was time for work.

 

I drove up the motorway listening to a new audiobook. This time "All Quiet on the Western Front". It's a book that (fifty years ago) English teachers did their level best to ruin for me, but is actually rather good. Sadly the audiobook is read in a very dull Canadian accent, but it's better than the pompous voice of Sir John Gielgud was in "Brideshead Revisited".

I got to work and went into the works canteen to get lunch. I quite like the hospital dinners; I usually get myself one when on at a weekend.

There was a "delightful lady" doing her best to confuse the till staff in a very poorly disguised attempt to a rather cheap meal even cheaper. I didn’t get involved…

 

I cracked on with work. Back in the day weekends at a hospital were emergencies only; these days there are clinics running and with a reduced staff weekends are far busier than they ever used to be. Back in the day we would be called in for one specific named patient, and would then wait for two or three hours to be called again. Today my workload was constant and really didn’t stop. I only got a break by walking out for five minutes.

But it was raining for much of today. I don’t mind working when it is raining.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a late dinner of chicken nuggets and chips which we scoffed whilst watching “Tipping Point”. I love TV game shows - many of the contestants have no hesitation in showing their ignorance.

Has anyone honestly never heard of Pepe Le Pew?

 

12 September 2026 (Saturday) - Family Party

My cousin’s house is right next to a church. As well as ringing the hour the chimes went off every quarter of an hour all night long. I think I heard the lot. I got up at seven o’clock, put the en-suite through its paces and went downstairs to make myself a cuppa. I eventually found the kitchen… seriously. It took some finding. Each room in the house has a floor space bigger than the entire downstairs of my house. And having found the kitchen, finding the fridge took some doing.

The was blood on the kitchen tiles. The cat had had a mouse overnight. The fourth in twenty-four hours.

You don’t get that with dogs… Rather than playing with them, Treacle just swallows mice whole

 

It wasn’t long before we were all up. My cousin Karen asked if we had time for brekkie and got out the makings of a fry-up.

We had time.

We had a very good brekkie. As we scoffed so a red kite flew over. And some seagulls. Seagulls? We must stop calling them that. We were about as far from the sea as it is possible to get in the UK, with the closest beaches being pretty much equidistant at Southend and Weston Super Mare, and still gulls were flying about.

 

With brekkie scoffed we said our goodbyes. Ideally we would have stayed longer, but in my world everything happens at once.

The sat-nav which had done so will getting up to the Midlands did just as good getting us home (once we were on the M1 it was rather straightforward). There’s no denying that I’m not keen on driving, but it was far quicker and cheaper than the train. Trains are all very well for getting from A to B very fast. However both A and B are very rarely in a convenient place to get to or from.

 

We got home. The dogs went mad about the smell of cat. We did “FEED THE FISH”, “er indoors ^TM” had made cakes. We had them with a cuppa then set off to Icklesham for a family birthday party.

We had a rather good afternoon in the sunshine. My plan had been to stay for a drink or two… we stayed for five as the littluns bossed the dogs about.

 

We came home where “er indoors ^TM” got a kebab and we played a few rounds of “Ticket To Ride”, but I was wilting.

I gave up and did that which I always threaten but rarely do. I had an early night.

11 September 2026 (Friday) - Off to Bletchley

I slept well, which was a result. I woke shortly after six o’clock to the sound of rain on the window. The sound of rain is one of the most depressing sounds there is. There are those that like rain; those that sit inside and look out at it. I wanted to go out.

I made toast and had a look at the Internet. There was endless support for lifeboats, and the right wing thugs that have been running them down have gone strangely quiet. Last night’s episode of Star Trek got mediocre reviews. For all that it was a good episode it was (very obviously) a remake of what had gone before in the genre, and those that were determined to dislike the show were very quick to point it out. And American blood bankers were discussing techniques that have been redundant in the UK for at least fifty years.

And there was a lot of talk about some local café closing and how we should all support these small businesses. Why? Yesterday I paid the thick end of eight quid for a rather mediocre cup of coffee and three bite-sized pastry things (which were on the burned side) from a local coffee shop. Why should I spend out on massively over-priced things I don’t want just because someone’s decided to make their living from selling massively over-priced things I don’t want?

 

I Munzed, and Wordled from “sound” to “aster” in five goes. Aster… it’s a sort of flower. I then took the dogs to the woods. With time short we went to Orlestone where there was only one other car in the car park (and that one left as we arrived). We walked a short walk; the first park of the wood was muddy enough and the lower part soon becomes a swamp.

As we drove I listened to more of my Brideshead Revisited MP3 audiobook… and decided to give up with it. It’s left out major plot segments and major characters. I’ll try something else.

 

We came home for a bath. You’d be amazed how much muck sticks to the belly of a small dog.

And then I said goodbye to the household, drove up to the station and collected my brother for a little road trip. Off to Bletchley.

 

We made good time up the M20, but there was quite a hold-up at the Dartford crossing. There always is.

South Mimms services was something of a game – we had a Subway lunch which was massively overpriced. Fow all that it was rather good I wouldn’t use it again simply because of the self-service machines.

From there it was a straight run to my cousin’s house. I was impressed with the sat-nav.

 

We met up with cousin Karen, her husband Martin, and had a rather good afternoon with them and the cat. Another cousin and her husband joined us for the evening. We went to a Nepalese restaurant for dinner. I’d not had Nepalese before; I’d certainly have it again.

Things got progressively more vague as the evening wore on…