2 August 2026 (Sunday) - A Birthday

I slept well… not surprising really after the ale that got shifted yesterday. I made toast and rolled my eyes. Ex-Home Secretary Suella Braverman was ranting on-line about that which she did nothing about when she had the chance when she was in power. I’m amazed that the masses vote for her… 

Several people had clicked “like” on the photos of yesterday’s little session in the garden. It was a shame that we clashed with so many other things, but it’s August, the sun is out and everyone is busy…

I Munzed; inviting Munzers to join the Guild for this month’s Munzee Gauntlet Games. A posh phrase for scanning bar codes stuck to a lamp post, but it keeps us occupied. I Wordled from “after” to “penal” in five goes.

 

“er indoors ^TM” went off out for the morning. I watched an episode of “Stranger Things” then had a little tidy-up. Washing up went in the dishwasher, bottles and cans into the recycling, and I then had a little doze in the garden until the birthday girl returned.

We had thought about a fish dinner at the Pilot or a Sunday roast at the Woolpack. Sadly being a glorious Sunday in August we would be sharing the place with all of the normal people. So we opted for a quiet afternoon in the garden. “My Boy ^TM” and ”Auntie Chel ^TM” popped round with a birthday card and pressie and we had a lunch of bread and cheese and pickles. And shortly after father-in-law called in.

We had a rather good (if lazy) afternoon.

 

There had been talk of a late afternoon walk, but it was still too hot to take the dogs out. And a combination of loads of visitors yesterday and today and the heat had worn them out anyway.

Instead we had a rather good lamb shank and a bottle of plonk which we devoured whilst watching a film. “Wicked” was rather good even if (like so many films) it went on for about an hour too much.

1 August 2026 (Saturday) - A Drink in the Garden

 

As I scoffed toast I peered into the Internet and saw that so many people were off on their holidays. Loads of people were posting photos from airports. Part of me was jealous, part not. I hate going on holiday. I like *being* on holiday, but the “going” bit is just hours of arse-ache.

I saw that despite the predictions, Reform UK had their arses handed to them on a plate following the Manchester Mayoral elections and despite the odds, the Labour candidate won. Is this good or bad? I must admit my Labour MP has turned out to be an utter disappointment, but I’d rather have someone in power who was a bit rubbish than a bit nasty. Talking of which the row in Hastings continues.

As I smurfed the net so Treacle came down. She made a half-hearted attempt to come to me but I could see the look in her eye. I told her that it was all right and that the back door was open, and she flew out like a bullet from a gun.

 

I Munzed, Wordled from “their” to “slush” in four goes, then strained my brain. Steve was on the radio doing the “Guess the Lyrics” competition. “She’s a PhD in I told you so. You’ve a knighthood in I’m not listening”. No? -  It was The Beautiful South – Don’t Marry Her.  Sometimes I’m amazed at what trivia is stuck in my head.

 

We went round to Repton and Dog Club. Over the last few weeks there’s been a rather timid dog who brings out the worst in Morgan so we took his muzzle along (just in case) but that dog wasn’t along so all was well. Morgan did tiddle up someone… but that is another issue.

 

As we drove home Steve was doing the Mystery Year competition on the radio. A big Royal Wedding, Kate Bush sitting in your lap and a guy working down the chip shop… 1981.

We had a cuppa then I tidied up the garden and it wasn’t long before people arrived. A lot of people were away on holidays or had prior bookings, but a few of us gathered in the garden and had a rather good time.

It was good to catch up with friends… even if things did get progressively more and more vague as the afternoon (and evening) wore on.

I took a few photos…

31 July 2026 (Friday) - Litter Pick

I woke feeling profoundly miserable for no reason that I could fathom. I got up, cracked on and it soon passed.

I made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do most mornings. Trivia and petty backbiting abounded, but what really boiled my piss was the Reform UK leader of East Sussex County Council. His bunch have made the decision to stop giving out free meal vouchers to children. The owner of the Grumpy Cook Café in Hastings has carried on giving children free food (at his own expense), but yet again no good deed goes unpunished. Barry Ashley, who runs the Grumpy Cook café in Hastings, and the local Labour MP Helena Dollimore have both been told by the Reform UK leader of East Sussex County Council Andy Woolley that he plans to contact the police about them. He’s got the arse that they named him in criticism when the council he runs decided to stop dishing out school holiday meal vouchers. He feels it unfair that he should get stick for the decisions he and his underlings make.

Meanwhile the head honcho of Reform UK gets a five million quid bung and they are quite happy about it.

Am I missing something here?

I had an email. A new geocache had gone live on the way to Maidstone. There seems to be something of a conspiracy in that new geocaches in the Maidstone area only go live on days when I’m not working there.

I Munzed, Wordled from “wrong” to “purse” in five goes, and got ready for our walk.

 

As we drove to the woods the pundits on the radio were talking about the state of the country’s water supply and interviewing Feargal Sharkey about it. It was pointed out that no new reservoirs have been built in the UK for thirty years. It was also pointed out that new reservoirs cost a lot of money and don’t have an immediate financial return for investors. There was talk about why nationalising the water companies would just cost the country a fortune…  Feargal Sharkey said that ninety-nine per cent of what the water companies are spending this year is coming from the increased water bills (the implication was that all the existing money goes to paying dividends to foreign investors) so it’s going to cost us anyway.

It strikes me there are two obvious things to do. Desalination plants (like they have elsewhere in the world) and pipes across the UK. Gas gets pumped the length of the nation; why not water?

 

We got to the woods and had a good walk. As we walked I gathered litter. For some time I’ve been noticing the litter on our walk. The lager can at the half-mile point. The Haribo wrappers at the three quarters of a mile point. The old helium balloon. The discarded trousers (seriously!)

I got quite a haul of rubbish.

The woods were quite busy today; we met loads of people.

 

We came home. I made us a cuppa then nipped to Tesco to get some odds and sods. I hate supermarkets. Usually I go before work, but at mid-day (like today) they are heaving with normal people. Not one of them look where they are going; not one of them has the slightest idea that there is anyone else in the supermarket. And pretty much every single thing has been moved from where it was the last time that I called in.

 

With shopping shopped I then pootled in the garden for a bit. Sweeping up, puling weeds, generally tidying up. Whilst I’d been shopping I’d got some Belgian buns. We had them with a cuppa for lunch, then I effectively wasted the afternoon by alternately read more Kindle and played Meowdoku.

 

“er indoors ^TM” sent me a WhatsApp. If I phoned a certain number I could enter a prize draw for free and have a chance to win a million quid. That would be nice, wouldn’t it. So I entered the prize draw.

It would have been nice to have won, wouldn’t it?

 

We had a bottle of the three quid plonk with dinner. As we scoffed and guzzled we watched more “Bake Off: The Professionals”. I find myself more interested in the presenter rather than the baking. Woof !!!

30 July 2026 (Thursday) - Not At Work

I slept through till half past seven this morning. That was an improvement on the last two nights. I made toast and had a look at the internet as I do every morning. A friend was posting pictures and videos from her Cornish holiday in which her daughter seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time jumping into the sea from harbour walls. I once did that in Hastings. Someone was posting to local Facebook pages offering to sell aerial photos of people’s house taken from his drone… sadly he was posting anonymously so no one could contact him.

And the world was up in arms because Nigel Farage hadn’t been invited to the cross-party talks about social care. All sorts of conspiracy theories were being thrown about but no one seemed to realise that now that Nigel Farage is no longer an MP he was not eligible to attend. He stood down from being an MP in the hope that he'd avoid scrutiny for the five million quid bung he received from Christopher Harborne. (that blew up in his face, didn’t it?)

I Munzed, Wordled from “slept” to “flume” and took the dogs out.

 

We drove up to the woods where we had an average walk. As we walked we saw where something had been chewing the bark from the trees (squirrels or deer?). My bird app thought it heard a merganser… which is a duck and there’s not many of those in Kings Wood. We saw deer in the distance – too far away to bother chasing them. And we met a woman on a horse… As she came toward us through the woods (on a supposedly “no horses” path) I grabbed the dogs by the collars and held them till she passed. She thanked me for holding the dogs, then made the snide comment that dogs are usually on leads. I smiled sweetly and thought better of telling her that horses are only allowed on the gravelled tracks.

And Bailey rolled in fox poo. Twice.

 

We came home for a bath, and I made us both a cuppa. I spent an hour marking a trainee’s work on thrombotic disorders. I wrote up some CPD. I put some washing in to scrub, rounded up all the dog turds that I could find, then voomed round the front and back yards with the bionic burner. Five minutes with that sorts the weeds.

 

“er indoors ^TM” went shopping. I made some toast for lunch and thought about my old lecturer and mucker Pete Chopping. Pete was chief biomedical scientist at Orpington Hospital forty years ago and in the evenings he used to lecture us at Bromley College of Technology. He was *always* banging on about what he called the “Tea & Toast Brigade” by which he meant pensioners who lived off tea and toast and with such a diet usually ended up with macrocytic anaemias (anaemic with really big red cells caused by not eating properly). He maintained that the “Tea & Toast Brigade” brigade were responsible for ninety-nine per cent of all the low folate results we saw in the lab (we measure folic acid every day). Pete would have laid an egg if he saw what I eat for lunch most days when not at work.

Pete was that rarity – he knew absolutely everything there was to know about haematology and could explain and teach so well. And he always got the beers in. He liked a bottle of White Shield. Such a shame that he’s gone…

 

With toast scoffed I ironed the shirts I’d washed earlier and ironed the rest of the ironing too as I watched an episode of “Stranger Things”. I managed to put the ironing board away without disturbing the dogs, and Treacle was asleep when I announced that I was going to “FEED THE FISH”. She leapt up squealing in excitement.

With fish fed I voomed round with the watering can, then sat by the pond for a bit and read my Kindle.

 

Over dinner we watched this week’s episode of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds” which started well but the writers clearly wrote themselves into a hole from which they couldn’t get out. Half-way through “er indoors ^TM” asked how our heroes were going to get out of the pickle they were in, and sadly rather than resolving the plot the writers effectively said “sod it” and just ran the end credits. Such a shame.

We followed this with more “Bake Off: The Professionals”. Who would have thought that making a Battenburg was so complicated.

And we are now watching the Claudia Winkleman show. Apparently there won’t be a second season for which I am very grateful.

29 July 2026 (Wednesday) - Another Day At Work

I had another bad night. I got up at five o’clock, made toast and watched another episode of “Stranger Things”. This one was a full fifteen minutes shorter than yesterday’s one. One major difference between telly and streaming is that all the episodes of a series on the telly are all exactly the same length. There’s no two episodes of a streamed show that are the same length.

 

I Wordled from “early” to “valve” in four goes then had a look at the internet. There were quite a few posts about pubs re-opening of Facebook this morning. The Halfway House in Challock is to re-open. Having been taken over and re-named The Stag it soon went belly-up as the owners were targeting drivers of classic cars and motorbikes. Not only is this something of a niche market, it is also the very people who don’t spend out on the pub’s key product as they are all driving.

Ironically this is a mistake that the new owner of The Peacock at Goudhurst is looking to make as they are currently refurbishing and looking to target the biker community.

And the Kings Head in Wye has just re-opened after a refurb allegedly costing over a million quid despite there already being three other successful pubs within a five minute walk of the place.

Bearing in mind that (on average) two pubs close up every day in the UK, there’s some rather confident wannabe landlords locally.

And some chap was posting to the local Facebook groups whinging about the state of his food waste bin. It was rather disgusting (as food waste bins are) and he was getting rather aggressive about why the council aren’t going to clean it out for him. He said that he pays his taxes so why shouldn’t the council come clean his bin?

This chap is allowed to vote…

 

I set off to find my car. I'd had to park some distance from home last night. As I walked I found myself somewhat distracted by the young lady walking down the road in front of me. Perhaps I'm an old puritan, but she might as well have been stark naked for all that her "clothes" were keeping hidden. Perhaps she'd forgotten to get dressed this morning? After all it as only half past six.

 

I got lunch from the co-op. There was a minor delay as the chap at the front of the queue wandered off to get a cup of coffee from the self-service machine half way through paying for his stuff. He suddenly realised there had been a queue behind him at the counter and that he wasn't the only person on the planet. He then got into a panic as to whether he should finish paying for his shopping or finish getting his cup of coffee.

Sometimes I wish I didn't have this idiot magnet.

 

Yesterday I had to take a major diversion between Tenterden and Biddenden as the road was closed. I checked Google Maps before I left home and it told me the road was open. It lied. I got to London Beach to find the road still closed, so I took the same diversion I took yesterday. But bearing in mind Google said there were still road works on the A21 I bypassed those and went the way I'd come home last night on that part of the journey.

For all that I prefer working where I am now, the drives to and fro can be problematical.

As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about FIFA - the world's governing body for football. Following meetings at the recent World Cup, FIFA's head honcho is looking to sell off the rights to its major events (including the World Cup). Amazingly the company which looks set to make most money out of the deal is run by the brother of Donald Trump's son-in-law.

Is anyone surprised at that snippet?

 

Despite taking a rather convoluted route to work I got there far too early. As I walked in I could smell the scent of brekkie wafting on the breeze and I fancied a plateful. I've smelled that before; it is invariably a disappointment. But despite my better judgement I went to the canteen, got a plateful of the cooked brekkie and was again disappointed. It wasn't bad; just nowhere near as good as it smelled.

 

I went into the lab and did my bit. At lunchtime I had a rather eerie episode. I've been reading a book - a post apocalyptic story set in southern England in which a plague had wiped out most of humanity. Our heroes were in Sevenoaks and needed medical supplies.  One of the characters pointed out there was a hospital on the outskirts of Tunbridge Wells. The author perfectly described the roads I drive down, the hospital drive, the hospital foyer, the corridors I walk down... but all described as they would be after a world-ending plague.

It was all rather unsettling

 

With work worked I came home. Google said the A21 was still slow so I headed cross-country via Matfield and Horsmonden again. It also said the road between Tenterden and Biddenden was open, and unlike this morning it was.

As I drove I listened to more Adrian Mole MP3s. It’s far more entertaining than the evening news.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up hot dogs and chips which we scoffed whilst watching the first episode of the new series of “Bake Off: The Professionals”. It was rather good. As was the hot dog and chips.  

28 July 2026 (Tuesday) - Diversions, Duck's Feet

I woke at ten past two feeling full of energy and raring to go. I then lay dozing before finally getting up at five o’clock. I made toast, watched an episode of “Stranger Things” then had my usual look at the Internet as I do. It was still there, and rather dull at six o’clock. No one was kicking off about anything, so I sorted the undercrackers that I’d washed last night, put some of them on, and got ready for work.

A couple of months ago I saw the boss had made a minor boo-boo and had put me on leave this week. As I got ready for work part of me wished I’d kept quiet and just taken the week off.

 

I had something of a "drive from hell" getting to work this morning. As I approached the turn-off to the A262 I saw the road was closed. There was a diversion sign pointing west-wards, but as I went west-wards there were no other diversion signs. That was helpful (!) I followed the back roads that I knew would take me to Sissinghurst and hoped that would bring me out past whatever had closed the road. It did, but it wasn't long before I joined a two-mile tailback on the A21. After forty minutes I got to the traffic lights which were causing the hold-up. You'd think road works which were clearly so disruptive would have people actually working on them, wouldn't you?

And then there was another major tailback caused by people struggling to get past a three car smack-up which had happened at one of the busier junctions.

 

As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the company Johnson and Johnson who were facing legal battles about their talcum powder. It was alleged that the stuff caused cancer. Does it? I don't know. But it turns out that if a court declares that it is carcinogenic, then it is only carcinogenic where that court has jurisdiction. The stuff might cause cancer in America, but until such time as a UK court gets involved, the stuff is heigh, ho pip and dandy over here.

One lives and learns.

And there was a lot of talk about ex-servicemen who had been involved in atomic bomb testing in the1950s and 1960s. They were after compensation because the atomic bomb testing had given them cancer. Bearing in mind that anyone who was in the armed forces during that time would now be well into their seventies I must be missing something here.

 

Pausing only briefly to get lunch from Tesco I went into work. A colleague was just back from a safari holiday in Africa. Travelling all over the place in Tanzania and Mozambique... seven flights in twelve days. I'd like to do that... if it wasn't in a malarious area.

And there was talk of voluntary redundancies. Well, not actual redundancies, a voluntary "Mutually Agreed Resignation Scheme". I thought about it, but I'd only get a year's money which wouldn't last long, and I quite like going in to work on a part-time basis. 

 

As I did my bit we had a phone call from one of the places to which we refer some specialist testing. The person on the other end of the phone was someone with whom I worked years ago. The last time I saw her was in a pub in Lyminge when I was part of a "rent a mob" supporting a friend's band and she was part of a hen party. I got her and the hen party to heckle the singer which was rather entertaining.

 

Bearing in mind the debacle I had this morning I checked Google Maps before heading home. I came home via Matfield, Brenchley and "Earl's shortcut". "Earl's shortcut" involves taking the back lanes between Biddenden and Bethersden and for all that it is half a mile shorter, it actually takes longer as the roads are so narrow. I'm not keen on taking it as the first fruit of my loins once went that way and ended up in a ditch, but with the main road closed I didn't have much choice. Ironically the bit where “My Boy ^TM” had ended up in a ditch was closed because of an accident so I had even more of a diversion to get round that bit.

 

Once home I found that the duck's feet had been delivered. Some time ago the doggy dentist lady had recommended that crunching chicken's feet was good for the dogs' teeth so we've been getting bags of those from Amazon. But Bailey had gone off of those. Bearing in mind she'd had the thumbs-down from the doggy dentist lady last week (and brushing her teeth takes some doing) we needed to sort something. Last week the doggy dentist lady mentioned duck's feet. All three seem to like those (for now).

You really can get a bag of duck's feet from Amazon. It’s a shame we forgot to cancel the standing order for chicken’s feet…

27 July 2026 (Monday) - A Day Off

With no alarm set, apart from a trip to the loo at five o’clock I slept for eight hours.

I hung out the washing that I’d put in to scrub at five o’clock, made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do. I was presented with a *lot* of photos of royal pythons this morning. For all that those who’ve never been within a hundred yards of one will shriek, they are sweet little things. I’d get another if not for the dogs. Bailey would certainly kill it.

And my cousin was complaining about seagulls. She lives on the coast. We have much the same issues (including a seagull nest on the roof) but the closest bit of sea to here is ten miles away.

There was a minor squabble on the Facebook page of “The Good Food Hunter UK”. The “UK” bit always makes me chuckle as from what I can see the fellow’s not hunted anything more than fifteen miles from Hastings. Like with most reviewers, those to whom he doesn’t give glowing reviews take offence, and it was all getting a bit personal.

And Bill Oddie had died. Everyone remembers his wildlife programs and “The Goodies”. Am I the only one who remembers “The Saturday Banana”?

I Wordled. I didn’t get the answer yesterday and so broke a Wordling streak of one hundred and eighty days of getting it right. Starting with “eight” I got it on the fifth attempt this morning with “poser”. I wonder how long this streak will last before I don’t get it right again.

I Munzed, and took the dogs out.

 

We went up to Kings Wood where we walked our usual circuit. I saw deer, but they were too quick to be photographed. The fairy doors were back (a rather sweet little touch) as were the hornet traps (not quite so sweet). And there had been a fire. The tumulus was covered in ashes and cinders. What sort of half-wit sets light to a scheduled ancient monument?

As we walked we had some messages from “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” who was not happy. She’d been walking Pogo and some random passers by asked when Pogo’s pups were due. She had to explain that he wasn’t pregnant; just fat.

 

We came home where I made us a cuppa. We’d had strawberries and cream yesterday and I used the last of the cream in my coffee. Very nice. I wrote up some CPD. Dull, but needs writing up. One day I will be called up to have my continuing professional development audited. In the past I’ve seen people having absolute panic attacks when trying to produce evidence of what they’ve learned over the last two years. My CPD mightn’t be very good, but I’ve done it.

I did a YouGov survey. If you do enough of them they give you money.

And I downloaded an app. I’m not sure if WeRoam is going to be much good, but time will tell.

 

I got the washing in, then cleaned out the pond filter. With the pressure filters it’s such an easier job than it used to be. One of the older ladies at Dog Club has inherited her (now passed on) husband’s koi pond and at the weekend her box filters (the sort we used to have) overflowed and she woke up to a three-quarters-empty pond. I don’t miss those old box filters.

I played Meowdoku – I’m currently the country’s number one Meowdoku-er. Go me!!

I read my Kindle for a bit and got the Kindle Bookworm award. Go me!!

We did “FEED THE FISH” and used up the last of the fish food, so I had a little look on Amazon. It certainly pays to shop about. Fifteen litres of the brand of fish food we get costs a shade over seventeen quid. Forty litres of the exact same stuff is just under twenty-one quid. That’s two hundred and sixty per cent more fish food for only twenty per cent more money. I’m just hacked off that it took me so long to realise this.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up pizza and chips and went bowling. I settled down with sleeping dogs and watched an episode of “Stranger Things”.

Again – I’ve had a day off and I’m worn out.

26 July 2026 (Sunday) - Early Shift

I had something of a restless night. I got up at half past four, and so did Treacle who seemed rather out of sorts. She had a stomp round the garden, did her thing, then went back to bed.

She’s been a but iffy for the last week or so. Am I being paranoid, or is she losing weight?

 

I made toast and watched an episode of “Stranger Things”. When the show ended and I turned off Netflix there was one of those ten minute long adverts playing for a pressure washer. That was a waste of some company’s money; who’s going to buy a pressure washer during a hosepipe ban?

I had a look at Facebook which reminded me that it would have been Terry’s birthday today. Terry was a good friend. Because of his work (for the Foreign Office) and him living fifty miles away we didn’t meet up that often, but when we did the time was rather special. I miss him.

 

I Munzed and got ready for work. As I drove off so the pundits on the radio were starting the "Farming Today" program. I often listen to that on a Sunday morning on my way to work for the simple reason that there is nothing else on. I won't say that it is rubbish; I'm sure there are some people who go into raptures of delight at the thought of it. But for me, if I were to type "something dull" into Google I'm sure that Radio Four's "Farming Today" would be in the top three suggestions.

I put my Adrian Mole MP3s on and drove up a surprisingly busy M20. There were a lot of cars there at seven o'clock on a Sunday morning. Some chap heading coastbound was driving far too fast in the dual carriageway bit and flashing his headlights like a thing possessed. What was that all about?

 

I got to work and cracked on. I can't really complain about working at the weekends. It is part of hospital work. Hospitals never close and so we work round the clock. But this was my fourth consecutive Sunday.  However as I always say I don't mind working at the weekends when the weather is iffy. Yesterday had been glorious. Today was overcast with drizzle. There's no denying that the garden needed it, and I'd rather be sulking at work when it is damp rather than sulking at home.

I did my bit, and came home listening to more Adrian Mole MP3s.

Once home I found that it hadn’t rained in Ashford.

 

I sat on the sofa with the dogs… and woke two hours later. I didn’t realise I was that tired.

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner. She does that. As we scoffed we watched episodes of “Upstart Crow” which I am reliably informed is a comedy.

One lives and learns.

 

Yesterday was full-on and non-stop. Today has been on the dull side… I spent much of it remembering little episodes with my old mucker…

25 July 2026 (Saturday) - Rather Busy

As I scoffed toast I looked at the Internet as I do. Someone had posted a photo to one of the Facebook groups that I follow. A picture of a large cat (a caracal or something like that) which they’d seen in Surrey. Or so they claimed. The original photo was forwarded to one of the group experts who looked at the geo-tagging in the photo and immediately saw that the original photo had been taken in Africa.

Oh dear…

And there was a *lot* of talk about last Thursday’s episode of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds”. There were quite the arguments raging on the Facebook pages… The trouble with any sort of prequel series is that you already know that certain characters aren’t going to be killed off, don’t you? No? Well you would if you’d seen the show on which it was based. And if you hadn’t you really shouldn’t be picking a squabble with people who had. Shouldn’t you?

I Munzed, Wordled from “group” to “aloha” in five goes. “Aloha” – seriously? As I fiddled about so Steve wasn’t on the radio. His stand-in wasn’t the same.

 

We took the dogs to Repton and Dog Club. I tried to count; I think we had eighteen dogs along. Some were being quite “frisky”. It was a shame that Morgan was being a bit confrontational; there’s one big dog who is rather timid, and Morgan can’t resist trying to pick on him.

 

From Dog Club we drove to Rye Harbour. “er indoors ^TM” had arranged a jigsaw trade with someone there, and whilst we were in the area we thought we might walk the dogs round the nature reserve. I had this vague plan that we might see seals. We didn’t. But we had a good wander round. There was a series of geocaching Adventure Lab caches round the reserve which gave us a route for our walk. It was a good walk. We came back to the car through the caravan site. I always think I’d like a caravan on a site… but I doubt I’d ever use it if I got one.

 

We came home. Treacle had a bath as she’s been trusted to be allowed off of the lead and had gone in some manky water whilst we’d been out.

We then had a rather good afternoon in the garden. Some cheese and pickles, Meowdoku, crossword puzzles, a couple of beers and a little sleep. The dogs had chicken ice poles – a while ago we boiled up some chicken fillets and froze the water. They yummed them up.

 

We came in, and got the Infinity Table out and played “Ticket to Ride” on the UK, Asia, Switzerland and Europe maps. I won one game, so I saw that as something of a result.

I took a few photos today. Today was rather busy. I’m going to work tomorrow… my intention is for something of a rest.

24 July 2026 (Friday) - Early Shift, Accounts

With an alarm set I was awake early. Not as early as I often am, but still early enough.

I made toast and scoffed it whist watching an episode of "Stranger Things" then, taking care not to wake anyone, I set off for work. As I'd watched telly so I'd heard the bin men coming up the street. Back in the day the bin men used to collect the bin from your garden and take it back again. These days you have to leave the bin out on the pavement for them, and once they've emptied the bin they just fling in in the general direction of "away from the bin lorry" and leave the pavements awash with discarded wheelie-bins. You only get you bin back if you go looking for it, and only if you get there before someone else steals it because your bin is better than theirs.

I retrieved ours, put back those of a neighbour or two, then weaved my way in and out of all the other bins which had been strewn across the pavement as I went to find my car.

 

I went to the co-op to get lunch. As I was feeding coins into the self-service machine so the stench of cannabis filled the shop. Some chap staggered into the place absolutely reeking of the stuff. These days pretty much everywhere I go seems to stink of it.  The allotments by the co-op field are particularly bad for it. It might be grown there - it certainly smells that way.

 

As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio were talking about the new Prime Minister who has announced even more tax cuts. The general feeling was that his predecessor was something of a dull character. The new chap is trying to avoid his mistakes, endear himself to the masses and make a name for himself. First impressions matter. Or so it was felt.

Meanwhile that idiot Donald Trump  has given the world a whole load of new trade tariffs and wonders why no one likes him.

 

I got to work and saw one of the top bosses from where I used to work was visiting. He made a great show of saying hello (as though we were long lost buddies) and he asked how I was.  I told him I was far happier working in a place where I didn't feel physically sick every day at the thought of going to work. I named a few names that (in retrospect) I should have named ten years ago.

Part of me wonders if I was right to stick the knife in after so long... part of me doesn't.

 

An early start made for an early finish. I came home down the dual carriageway that once was the M20 and hit a traffic jam. A car had broken down, and we had three miles of ten miles per hour. Meanwhile what used to be the coastbound carriageway (supposedly for lorries going to the port) sat there completely unused.

I suppose I was only half an hour late home, so I shouldn’t complain too much.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up pizza and went off out. I settled with the dogs and looked at the monthly accounts.

They could be worse, but they could be a whole lot better. It would be nice if I could magic up some money like the new Prime Minister seems to be able to do.

 

I shall now watch some more episodes of “Stranger Things” and hope I don’t fall asleep…

23 July 2026 (Thursday) - A Toad and a Pigeon

Late last night I phoned the emergency vet. The little dog I found did have a chip and had been reunited with his family. I had something of a sense of relief about that. Partly for the little dog, and partly for myself as I just know that I couldn’t have left the little thing on his own.

 

Once I’d got comfortable I slept well (the pain in my shoulder has moved into my upper arm). I got up just before eight o’clock, made toast and peered at the internet as I do. It was the same as ever. There was an interesting argument kicking off on one of the religious pages that I follow. Apparently it says in the bible “Do not eat anything you find already dead”. Presumably the implication is that you have to go hunt/forage your dinner every time. Obviously supermarkets, KFC and kebab shops are a no-no in the view of the Almighty? Clearly this is a bit daft, but then when you read the bible much of it is rather daft. I felt sorry for the god-botherers in the squabble who were claiming that you have to pick through the bible to find the bits that aren’t nonsensical. Your holy text is either the word of your god, or it isn’t. You can’t pick and choose the bits you want. Can you?

 

I Munzed, Wordled from “stray” to “orbit” in three goes, then got ready for the off. As I drove the dogs up to Challock the pundits on the radio were interviewing one of the head honchos at Edinburgh council. They’ve implemented a “tourist tax” by which anyone staying in paid overnight accommodation in Edinburgh from tomorrow will be subject to a five per cent levy for the first five nights of their stay. This woman being interviewed was genuinely surprised that hotels have all reported mass cancellations, and various events including the Scottish ballet have been cancelled. The pundits interviewing her didn’t actually ask “are you truly that stupid”? but it was quite clear that she was.

 

We got to the woods and had our walk. There were several cars in the car park, but we did our usual four (and a bit) miles and didn’t see anyone else at all as we walked. We didn’t see any deer, but we did see a toad. Each dog gave it a sniff, and then carried on, which was a result.

 

We came home where I made us both a cuppa. I had planned to brush the dogs’ teeth (I need to do that daily!) but they were all asleep after their walk. So I wrote up a little CPD. Last week I saw some Pappenheimer bodies. Back in the day whenever we saw something interesting down the microscope we’d keep the slide, and everyone had a case of microscope slides all of which faded with time. Some still do that, but now we are in the twenty-first century I take a photo and keep an on-line atlas of haematology. It’s nothing special, but hopefully it will impress the inspectors if and when I get inspected.

 

I stood up; the dogs all leapt up. With them awake I had a go at brushing their teeth. We need to practice that some more.

I had a little pootle in the garden, then sat by the pond and woke up an hour later in time for lunch. More toast which I scoffed whilst watching an episode of “Stranger Things” then sat by the pond again watching the antics of a pigeon sitting above the waterfall. He was there for a good five minutes and didn’t seem at all bothered by my watching him.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a rather good curry which we washed down with a bottle of plon whilst watching the first episode of the new season of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds” which was rather good.

 

I’ve got work in the morning…

22 July 2026 (Wednesday) - Busy Day

Every morning as I scoff toast I have a little look at Facebook. Perhaps I shouldn’t; it winds me up. But it makes me realise just how stupid some (many) people are. One chap (a builder) was posting copies of a series of text messages in which a customer cancelled a huge contract because the contractor called him “Tom” and not “Thomas”. I was reminded of a rather arrogant eight year old cub scout who was once in my pack. His name was Charles and he told you so. I once called him Charlie and he certainly pointed out the error of my ways. Tom, Charlie… does it really matter? Cleary it does to Thomas and Charles.

And there was quite a lot of whinging about last weekend’s official Red Dwarf convention which (by all reports) had been something of a disaster. Thirty years ago sci-fi conventions were run by the fans for the fans. We used to have great fun going up to the University of London, meeting friends, dressing up, and watching the latest episodes of our favourite shows which had been sent over from America on video tapes, then going on to the themed pubs to drink Romulan ale (lager with blue food colouring). These days the conventions are run by commercial companies who want to make a profit, and the themed pubs have been closed down for breaching copyrights. Such a shame.

 

I got the leads onto the dogs and we went out. As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about how one of the artificial intelligences unilaterally decided to mount an attack on a competitor. Perhaps the machines will take over the world? All the more reason to thank the Alexa every time it does something for me.

 

We got to the woods and walked a rather random walk for a change. As we came up the Pilgrim’s Way so I heard shouting and shrieking. Some people were approaching on bikes. I held Morgan and Bailey by their collars. I didn’t hold Treacle as she could be trusted not to run under the bikes’ wheels. And so Treacle ran under the bikes’ wheels. No one actually crashed or came off… I told the cyclists in a rather firm voice that the gravel on the path was very loose, that there were far better tracks to cycle on in the woods, and that the Pilgrims Way was a no cycling path. Two of those statements were true, but I always bear in mind the old adage that you can fool all of the people all of the time if you talk loudly and confidently. And I have been told that I can do a good impersonation of a scary tattooed skinhead thug. The cyclists hurried off.

We carried on with our walk. We saw a buzzard circling low. We saw deer. We didn’t see a swan for all that my Merlin bird app said we did. It’s interesting that now that the mating season is over, the birds in the woods are a lot quieter.

 

We came home listening to my Adrian Mole audiobook. Adrian’s father had made a spice rack. Once home I made us both a cuppa, Munzed, and Wordled from “dwarf” to “lorry” in four goes. I wrote up some CPD, then put the finishing touches to a little project I’ve been working on for the last week or so. It’s a little list of where we go for walks. I might extend it, I might forget all about it. Time will tell.

 

I went into the garden and trimmed back some of the overgrowth coming over the fence from not-so-nice-next-door. I tried speaking to nutty noodle when he used to live there (I wonder whatever happened to him). At that time the brambles from his bushes came a full five feet into my garden and he really couldn’t see my problem. Since then I’ve just tried to chop it all off at the fence line, but the stuff goes up quite a way. It’s a shame that she chooses to be so difficult. I’ve offered to prune it properly. I’ve offered to replace the fence. She either ignores me, or shrieks incomprehensibly then asks if I understand English (and she’s Japanese!).

I watered the plants, and generally pootled. All the time Treacle was watching me. Eventually to her delight I announced that I was going to “FEED THE FISH”, and she flew down the garden to the pond, squealing in excitement as she went.

I then gave myself a haircut (those hair trimmers have saved me a small fortune) and sat by the pond reading my Kindle for a bit until it was time for the dentist.

The doggy dentist.

 

Some time ago when having her annual check-up the vet said Treacle’s teeth weren’t as good as they might be. She recommended a scale and polish (under anaesthetic) and said it would be four hundred quid… and then anything they found whilst rooting about in her gob would be extra. I told the vet I’d think about it, and as we walked home I saw a van drive past with the logo “Doggy Dentals Ashford” so I gave them a ring.

They are excellent. Charging about a tenth of what the vet wanted, the nice lady gives the dogs’ teeth a good cleaning. Or that is she gives the girls’ teeth a good cleaning. She had a look at Morgan’s gob when she came to Dog Club for Dog Dental Week and said his gob is OK. Or it was then.

We got to the doggy dentist. Neiter of the girls really had a glowing report. Treacle’s teeth will probably see her out, but Bailey will probably need one or two pulling before much longer.

 

As we came home I saw something that made me sit up and take notice. A small dog which looked just like my Fudge running up the road. I took the girls home, then went up the road to see that dog that looked like Fudge. He was just running loose with no collar. I soon caught him and picked him up. He offered no resistance. I walked up and down the street banging on doors, haranguing passers-by, and shouting, but I couldn’t find anyone who recognised him.

In the end I took him to the emergency vet. They’ve now got him and say they will scan him for a chip and if they can’t contact the owner then the dog warden will have him in the morning. Apparently that’s the process and the law.

Part of me wishes I’d not taken him to the emergency vet.

Part of me realises that three dogs is already too many. A fourth? Seriously? 

21 July 2026 (Tuesday) - Late Shift

For all that I slept well, I woke exhausted following a night of nightmares. I woke in a cold sweat in the small hours following a rather vivid dream in which my late father had taken the house apart in order to repair a problem that simply wasn’t there. And then I found myself charged with going back in time to organise a geocaching mega-event fifteen years ago.

 

I made toast and peered into the Internet as I do and saw something which made me think. When I was a lad I was wrapped up in the Boys Brigade. Looking back that was a mistake. The Boys Brigade is a *very* religious organisation and it seriously messed with my head. One of the greatest regrets of my life is that I introduced a good friend to the Boys Brigade and he fell for the religion hook, line and sinker. He’s now a Baptist minister in the West country and regularly posts videos of his morning prayers on Facebook. He’s now off on “sabbatical” From what I can work out this entails three months of doing precious little but going off on holiday and sitting on your. bum saying prayers at someone else’s expense. And that someone else’s expense is tax-free – the Baptist Union is quite clear on the matter.

This got me thinking... and I did a little looking-up. A Baptist minister earns thirty thousand quid a year, gets a free house and a pension too. All for blathering a few platitudes.

Who’s the daft one, him or me…

I Munzed, and took the dogs out.

 

As we drove so the pundits on the radio were talking about how the new Prime Minister is sorting out the nation’s finances… or trying to. His attempts to sort the issues with the water companies by nationalising them seem to have fallen at he first hurdle. Those owed money by the water companies want their bit and are mounting a legal challenge to be sure they get it. And they probably will. I can remember a favourite author of mine who once wrote “"If a man stopped me in the street and demanded of me my watch I should fight him for it. If, on the other hand, he should assert his intention of trying to obtain it by means of an action in any court of law, I should take it out of my pocket and hand it to him, and think I had got off cheaply".

And there was talk of VAT on leccie bills being abolished. The expert opinion was that it might save the average household fifty quid a year which would be more than wiped out by the rise in leccie prices.

The new Prime Minister has got his work cut out…

 

We got to the woods. Being pressed for time we went to Orlestone today where the car park had only one other car in it. We walked anticlockwise today as the driver of that other car was fifty yards in front of us going clockwise and his dogs were barking at us. I don’t know where they went though; we didn’t meet them half-way round like you’d think we might.

We chased a few squirrels, but didn’t roll in anything. And the swamps had dried out too. After two miles we were back at the car after a rather uneventful walk. I like those.

 

We came home. I made us both a cuppa. I wrote up some CPD, Wordled my way from “dream” (which gave me nothing at all) to “shill” on the fourth attempt. I got “shill” as nothing else would fit. Apparently “shill” is the sort of person who gives positive reviews to companies and services with which they have a vested interest. As I’ve often said, a day when you learn nothing is a day wasted… I then wasted half an hour playing Meowdoku and then set off to the late shift.

 

As I headed off to work I saw a traffic warden on a pedal bike. Is that a new thing? Presumably so they can make a quick getaway having done the dirty. A friend of a friend once told me that they once worked as a traffic warden for a short time and were under orders to be sure that they issued enough parking tickets to cover their wages.

I drove up the ex-motorway (now dual carriageway) watching very few lorries coming down the "Operation Brock" bit. Again nothing was being held up in it. As I drove I had a strange phone call. Someone with a Scottish accent claiming to be called Tony called me saying that they were returning my call.  I'd not called him and I told him so, at which point he got rather aggressive and confrontational. I hung up. Being able to use the hands-free phone thingy in my car is something of a novelty, but I could do without nutters bothering me.

 

I went in to the Sainsbury's petrol station in Aylesford. As well as petrol I got lunch.  I made a point of telling the woman on the till that what I had was the meal deal as she never charges the reduced meal deal rate (always charging full whack). She took umbrage and refused to honour the nectar card deal voucher that she'd given me the last time I was there.

 

I went in to work and did my bit. Things weren't as bad as they might have been, but I was glad to see the night shift arrive. I drove home listening to more Adrian Mole. Pandora had returned from Tunisia which was (as we have all been told) "full of hazards".

 

The trouble with the late shift is that it finishes too late. By the time I got home it was gone ten o’clock…

20 July 2026 (Monday) - Pond Filters, Ironing

Every night I either lay awake all night or sleep for nine hours… Last night was a better one. Once I’d got into the right position so that the shoulder wasn’t playing up I was out like a log.

I got up at eight o’clock and made toast.

 

This morning (being up a bit later getting up) there was quite a bit of stuff on Facebook as I scoffed my toast. This weekend just gone had been Pirates Day in Hastings. I *always* find out about that after the event. Not that going there with the dogs would have been very practical.

Some idiot half-wit was banging on about how the vapour trails from aircraft are a relatively new thing and were some joint conspiracy of the loony left who were acting in cahoots with Satan, and no end of other idiot half-wits were joining in to agree with him. The argument would have made more sense if anyone could have explained exactly what was wrong with these vapour trails, or exactly what the loony left and Satan were planning.

And someone on a local page was complaining about something or other. The specifics are irrelevant, but everyone involved in the bickering was using an alias. No one was brave enough to put their name to what they were saying.

Back in the day the weekend just gone would have seen Canterbury’s beer festival. That used to be great fun… that seems to have stopped.

 

In between falling over dogs I hung the washing out. They wouldn’t stop bothering me this morning; they wanted their walk so we set off to find the car. Having had to park three streets away when I came home from work yesterday (as there were no spaces closer to home) there were three empty parking spaces right outside the house this morning.

As we drove to the woods so the pundits on the radio were interviewing Josh Kerr. In all the hysteria about world cup football his breaking the record for running a mile in the shortest time over the weekend has pretty much gone unnoticed.

 

We got to the woods. We had our walk. We walked about four miles (again my watch and my phone were half a mile apart in their estimates). Apart from growling at two groups of normal people the walk passed off without episode. No poo was rolled in, no swamps were wallowed in, no squirrels were chased.

 

We came home. I made us a cuppa. I Munzed, Wordled from “right” to “diver” in six goes. I wrote up some CPD including my three thousandth CPD (continuing professional development) blog entry. That blog is supposed to be a record of what I’ve learned in my professional capacity. Legally I’m supposed to keep up to date with developments in my field, and to keep a record that I’ve done so. An on-line blog works for me, and it has quite the following with over two hundred people having looked at it over the last three weeks. If only I knew who they were I might see if I can’t blag some of their CPD efforts.  

 

I ran out the hose and topped up the ponds, and whilst I was ponding I ran out the thick hose and cleaned out the pressure filter. Cleaning that is so simple compared with cleaning the old box filters I used to have.

And with filters cleaned and pond topped up so the dogs had a drink from the aerator-splashy-fish-ornament. The pigeons were drinking from it last week, “er indoors ^TM” told me that the seagulls were having a drink from it last weekend, and now the dogs are having a slurp.

I made some toast for lunch and with that scoffed I set about the ironing that was in the ironing box. That took an hour or so, and then I sat by the pond and read my Kindle, played Meowdoku and had a little doze.

 

Bearing in mind that “er indoors ^TM” was going bowling later I emptied the washing basket into the washing machine. I thought I might iron the shirts and sort the undercrackers whilst she was out.

And once she’d boiled up dinner and gone bowling that’s what I did.

At the moment the laundry is non-existent. Both the washing and ironing baskets are empty. Go me.

Mind you, it won’t stay that way…

19 July 2026 (Sunday) - Early Shift

I woke at four o'clock. The pain in my shoulder had returned with a vengeance. I couldn't get comfortable so I got up, made toast and watched an episode of "Stranger Things", then had a little look at the Internet. It was still there, and there wasn't much of note on there early on a Sunday morning. 

I tried not to disturb anyone as I got dressed, but as I did so “er indoors ^TM” had an attack of cramp and made enough noise to wake the dead. It you are wondering what woke you at quarter to six this morning, that was her.

 

I set off west-wards to work. I tried listening to the radio but the news was depressing. That idiot Donald Trump is pursuing his war in the Middle East for no other reason than that because he can (from what I can see).

And there was talk of the new Prime Minister looking to start drilling for oil in the North Sea (again). What with the state of the Middle East he'd be daft not to.

This was followed by what I can only describe as utter tripe, so I turned off the radio and listened to my Adriam Mole audiobooks. They were far clearer that the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy MP3s I've been listening to. I'll see if I can get better versions of those.

As I drove I was held up by two sets of traffic lights. No road works, just traffic lights. You'd think that whoever was responsible for traffic lights would take them down when there is quite obviously no need for them. I was also held up by a swarm of cyclists on the A262. You'd think they'd take the more scenic lanes, wouldn't you? I certainly used to back in the day when I had a bike.

 

I got to work and had a little chat with the girl who was finishing the night shift. She used to work where I used to work, and listening to her reminiscing made me remember just how unhappy I'd been working in that place for so long. It took me years to realise that a workplace didn't have to be hell on Earth, and that I didn't have to feel physically sick at the thought of going to work.

 

I did what I couldn't avoid and it wasn’t really that long until I was on my way home. But by the time I’d got home and had a little sleep (the very early start had caught up with me) it was too late to do very much.

I played Meowdoku whilst “er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good bit of stir-fry which we scoffed whilst watching the final of “The Traitors USA” which turned out to be something of a triumph of deception over decency. Much like life in general really… We followed this with a show in which all the contestants came back together and talked about how the show had gone. The reunion would have been a lot better had it featured the chap who’d hosted the show rather than wheeling on someone new. I couldn’t really concentrate on the reunion show itself… I’m not sure what was the most distracting; the host being cross eyed, the obvious over-acting, the ridiculous hats or the rampant brazen chest-brandishing of the lady contestants.

 

My shoulder still hurts.