28 January 2026 (Wednesday) - Five Pounds Up

Again with an alarm set I woke far too early. I made toast and watched another episode of "Harlots" which was rather good. The scriptwriters have now got away from flopping out the jubbliles every so often and moved on to actually having a plot. 

I had a very quick look at the Internet. What with all the rain yesterday the underpass near Asda had flooded again, and the Facebook page devoted to that underpass flooding was full of whinging. I asked if anyone (other than me) had contacted the councillors or our Member of Parliament about the issue. From the comments it was quite clear that no one wanted the flooding to actually get dealt with; everyone would far rather have something to whinge about

 

Taking great care not to wake anyone I got dressed. Have you ever got dressed in the dark? Not getting your undercrackers on back to front is simple enough, but socks can be tricky.

I looked out of the window and saw the cars outside were iced up.

I’d checked the weather forecast just before I went to bed last night. The forecast from eleven o’clock last night until this morning had been cloudy but with no rain and temperatures of about five degrees. There was also a formal warning for ice and snow. How did that work? Only one could be right.

Sadly it was the warning about the ice.

 

I scraped the ice off of the car’s windscreen and drove west-wards expecting the roads to be terrible having seen loads of photos of floods on the local Facebook pages yesterday. They weren't that bad really; there was a large puddle at London Beach (just north of Tenterden) but other than that the roads were quite passable.

As I drove I listened to the radio as I do. The pundits on the radio were broadcasting from Cardiff where they are gearing up for elections to the Welsh parliament. Apparently Reform UK look set to get at least a third of the vote. And that is despite Reform UK not having a leader in Wales, nor having published any policies or manifestos. One in three people have already decided who they are voting for with no idea of what they are voting for. Don't get me wrong - I'm not saying Reform UK will be bad for Wales. I'm saying that we have absolutely no way of knowing what they are promising, but one in three Welsh people clearly don't care. Democracy, eh?

And there were interviews with disgruntled Cornish fishermen. In the past they made their living from selling the crabs and lobsters they caught, but more and more their crab and lobster pots are coming up full of empty shells. Apparently octopi are eating all the crabs and lobsters and dumping the empty shells in the pots.

 

There was a minor result as I got my sandwich in Tesco; as I pocketed my change I saw a fiver laying on the floor by the self-service checkout.  Had I dropped it, or had it been there all along?  At worst I'd broken even, and at best I was a fiver up on the day. 

 

I went in to work, and did my thing. By nine o'clock I'd walked more steps than I'd walked all day yesterday.

I did spend a little while sulking though. Yesterday had been a very dull day as the constant heavy rain had stopped me doing anything. Today might not have been the best day, but it was dry. We could have gone a few miles round the woods. We might have got muddy, but we could have got a decent walk in.

But on the plus side was a little biccie at tea time.

 

Being on an early made for an early finish, and I had most of the drive home in daylight. “er indoors ^TM” boiled up bacon, egg and chips and we tried to watch more episodes of “The Traitors: Ireland” whilst Treacle squeaked like a thing possessed. Having wolfed down all her biscuits she was adamant that she should have Bailey’s half-dozen biccies too. Treacle is such a greedy thing.

Dogs, eh?

27 January 2026 (Tuesday) - It Rained Hard

I would have had a better night’s sleep had Morgan not sat on my head in the small hours, but he did. I dozed, listening to the rain hammering on the window, and got up just before half past eight.

 

I got up, made toast and had a look at the Internet. It would seem that there’s now a charge to use the car park at Battle Great Woods. Bearing in mind that Forestry England run those woods and also run Kings Wood (insofar as anyone “runs” a wood) does this mean I shall be shelling out to park in future? Certainly holidays in the New Forest are going to be a tad more expensive with parking fees being applicable to every car park in the New Forest from April.

If there is to be a parking charge it might be cheaper to join Forestry England. If what is happening in the New Forest is anything to go by, at three quid for two hours parking I’ll be shelling out between six and eight quid a week for parking. But for only (about) one pound fifty a week I can become a member and as such get free parking.

 

I Munzed, got Wordle on the fifth attempt and looked out of the window. The weather forecast had been right; heavy rain. And with it forecast for all day, a decent dog walk (or any dog walk at all) wasn’t happening.

I got dressed and spent the entire morning marking trainees’ portfolio work.

 

“er indoors ^TM” had an appointment; I put the washing machine on and then read my Kindle for a bit until she returned. She then took the dogs round the block as the rain had subsided a little, and not one of the three had done any “business” at all since getting up. Baking it for that long couldn’t be healthy. I didn’t fancy braving the rain so I stayed behind.

 

When they all returned I got the ironing board out and spent the afternoon using it whilst watching episodes of “Four In A Bed”. Today’s contestants were a rather confrontational simpleton, a young couple running a dog-friendly place in the Yorkshire Dales, an amiable enough chap with slightly more teeth than brains and some ballroom dancers from Bournemouth.

Everyone got on reasonably well, which was a disappointment, and in the end it was a tie between Toothless and Thickie.

 

I then had a phone call. “Beaker from Three” phoned with an offer of “lots of data and the good time” and asked what I “thought of deal”. I told him I thought it was a scam. He wanted to know why. I told him that https://who-called.co.uk had labelled his phone number as dodgy. “Beaker from Three” then got rather aggressive, recited the address of the Three Network’s head office and claimed to be phoning from there, and then told me that I was a scammer. You would think that anyone living and working in Reading would realise that “scammer” isn’t a name-calling insult, wouldn’t you?

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching the first two episodes of “The Traitors: Ireland” which also featured some really thick contestants who were oh-so-fast to show off how thick they were.

The producers must rub their hands in glee when these people apply to go on the telly.

 

I’ve walked less than two thousand steps today. I’ve not set foot outside the house. The rain has stopped, but the news is of floods everywhere. I’ve got to go to work tomorrow…

26 January 2026 (Monday) - Harlots

I was feeling rather iffy when I went to bed last night. I felt a little better this morning. I made toast and had my usual look at the Internet. Again my Facebook feed featured flat Earth conspiracy theories. Surely this must be a joke? Do people * really* think the Earth is flat?

There wasn’t a lot else going on this morning so as “er indoors ^TM” went off to the office for the day I Munzed, did Dog Breakfast, and we got ready for our walk.

 

As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about how schools should deal with how the children use their phones. The Education Secretary is all for an all-out ban. Would that work? I somehow doubt it. I can’t help but think that phones are part of our daily life, and somehow the school curriculum (*not* “cricklum” as everyone who has ever been interviewed on the radio wants to call it) should somehow reflect this.

And there was talk of Andy Burham the mayor of Manchester whose chips have been pissed on. He’s not going to be allowed to become an MP again. Becoming an MP would just be a stepping-stone to becoming leader of the Labour party… I can’t help but wonder what the people of Manchester must think about him as he’s made it clear his heart isn’t in his current job, hasn’t he? So many people are like that though. Every job is just a stepping-stone to the next job.

 

We got to the woods where I used my phone. To photograph the dogs. To see what birds were singing (not many). To navigate to the missing geocache that we replaced. To make a map of our walk. As I said earlier, phones are part of our daily life.

As I walked I met a couple of noisy women who were bellowing their conversation at each other. We all arrived at a crossroads and they seemed terrified that I was going to go down the path from which they’d just come. I had to go that way as that was the way to the geocache that needed replacing, Ideally I would have gone any way but that one; they had clearly scared off any wildlife that might have been in the area.

And a mile later I heard the panicked screaming of some woman who had lost her dog in the wood. She’s often in the woods, often screaming for her dog that never has any intention of coming back to her.

About a mile into the walk Treacle found a dead squirrel which she carried for the rest of the outing. She looked so pleased with herself.

 

We came home for baths. I had plans for the afternoon, but first warmed up some of last week’s leftover plov for lunch and put on an episode of “Harlots” on Netflix. I can only describe it as a saucy version of the third Blackadder series, and I found myself captivated by it until “er indoors ^TM” came home.

We had pizza, then with “er indoors ^TM” off bowling I watched more “Harlots”.

 

And in closing, today would have been my dad’s ninetieth birthday. I can hardly pretend to have been the devoted son, but I miss him.

25 January 2026 (Sunday) - Seashells in Winchelsea

I slept well; staying in my pit for over eight hours last night. I got up, made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do. It was much the same as it ever is. Someone had posted a photograph of a blood cell on one of the work-related Facebook pages and asked what it was, and there were as many different answers as there were people to give them. No one was saying this is whatever it is for the following reasons; everyone was saying this is whatever it is because I say so. It bothers me that it is quite clear from the profiles of some of the utterly wrong protagonists that they are in a position to have their utterly wrong ideas taken seriously. 

I rolled my eyes as I read the reviews of the most recent episode of “Star Trek: Starfleet Academy”. The so-called fans were again doing their best to get the show cancelled. So-called Star Trek fans have been actively opposed to all the follow-on Star Trek series ever since the animated series came out in 1973.

 

We got ourselves organised and drove down to Winchelsea. During the week the latest set of geocaching treasures came out, and there was a little series of caches along a footpath from Winchelsea to Rye that would fit the bill.

We parked up at the railway station and walked along a quiet lane to our first target. We soon found that, and then wandered along to our second quarry in the wonderfully-named “Dumb Woman’s Lane”. It turns out that the dumb woman in question had her tongue chopped out so that she couldn’t squeal up the local smugglers.,

The third cache was one that was missing. I’d messaged the chap who’d hidden it, and he was happy for us to replace it. So after a little look round to be sure it was missing we replaced it.

The fourth was a cute little model insect hanging in a tree. So many people must walk straight past it and not notice.

The fifth probably went in the floods following the recent heavy rain so we replaced it

The sixth was blatantly obvious… but I couldn’t see it for looking.

The seventh was rather close to someone’s back garden. The paper inside was soaking wet so we replaced it.

And then we turned round and came back along the way we’d been. Having checked out the path on the way there, we let the dogs off the leads for the way back as there was a river on one side of the path and a fence on the other so they couldn’t get into trouble… or so we thought. It didn’t take them very long to get through the fence and start chasing rabbits through the thick gorse. They came back after less than five minutes, but it seemed a lot longer.

The chap who’d hidden the caches had mentioned that he doesn’t live locally and that maintenance was an issue for him. He said he’s looking for someone to adopt the series… It’s too far away for me, and when I go doing geo-maintenance I want the dogs to be able to run without getting stuck on the other side of a fence.

After two miles there and two miles back we got back to the car. I was surprised at just how short the walk from Winchelsea railway station to Rye had been. I took a few photos as we walked.

 

We came home. The dogs had baths and were soon all snoring contentedly. I did the geo-admin for this morning’s walk then spent a couple of hours marking more trainee’s portfolio work before nodding off.

 

I might have an early night… I’m not feeling on top form…

24 January 2026 (Saturday) - A Wassail

I had another restless night. I gave up trying to sleep at half past five, got up, made toast and watched another episode of “Future Man” and still couldn’t decide whether or not I liked the show.

I sparked up my lap-top and had a little look at the Internet in case it had changed overnight. It rarely does, but you never know. Pretty much nothing had changed overnight really.

As I pootled on-line so Gold Radio was playing “House of the Rising Sun” by The Animals. Many, many years ago that was the favourite record of my best mate of the time. For a few years we were inseparable; best of buddies in the Boys Brigade… but we left school and went our separate ways. I became me, he became a very successful businessman. I stalked him on-line this morning. He’s currently one of the directors of Lloyds bank. I’ve sent overtures of friendship over the years… sadly he’s moved on from associating with the likes of me.

 

I Munzed, and using my strategy of starting with a five-letter word that I have just written, I Wordled from “likes” to “cliff” in five goes, then got ready for work.

 

I set off west-wards through the -hursts and the -dens listening to the radio as I do.  There was a *lot* of talk about last night's episode of "The Traitors". It was as well we watched it last night; spoilers abounded this morning. I thought they would though. I can remember getting up at two o'clock in the morning to watch episodes of "Game of Thrones" because by the time the morning came spoilers would be abounding. I can remember going to buy one of the later Harry Potter books at midnight one Friday night and spending the weekend reading the book as fast as I could so I could then deliberately give spoilers to someone I knew who couldn't stop himself doing exactly that whenever he could.

And apparently there is to be a major shake-up for the country' police. Some forces will merge, and individual coppers will have to keep up to date with changes in modern policing... There's a novelty. They will have to do continuous professional development... like I've been doing for years.

 

I stopped off at Tesco in Pembury to get Belgian buns for lunch, and whilst I was at it I got myself an almond croissant for second brekkie. When I work at the weekends I often go to the works canteen for the cooked breakfast. It is always a disappointment. An almond croissant is far better and about a third of the price.

 

I did my bit at work, but I was only on for the morning, and was home shortly before two o’clock. We scoffed the Belgian buns then went round to the park where a Wassail was taking place. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was something of a disappointment really. A burger stall, a burger van, a cider stall, an overpriced tat stall and a bunch of Morris dancers…

A Wassail is an old English tradition harping back to the days of Margaret Thatcher in which the unscrupulous milk the gullible for every last penny. Bottles of cider at a fiver each and burgers starting from six quid flying off the stalls… tradition was honoured.

We had a little walk, and came home. It was too cold to wassail for too long.

 

I had a look at the monthly accounts. As always they could be a whole lot better, but they could be a whole lot worse.

We then watched this week’s episode of “Star Trek: Starfleet Academy” which was rather good, but in retrospect nothing actually happened.

And then we sparked up the Infinity Table and had a rather good evening. We played “Ticked to Ride” and shelled out the amazing sun of two pounds fifty pence for the Scandinavia and Switzerland maps, and having played them we then had a go at India and Asia as well. And then Chris came on-line and we played Trouble and Sorry and Scrabble. “Dux” – more than one duck (!)

 

I started to wilt at about half past eleven which (bearing in mind the four pints of Timmy Taylor) I thought was rather good for me these days…

23 January 2026 (Friday) - Finals Night

I woke at two o'clock, and again at three o'clock, and again at quarter past three... by the time half past five came I was fed up with it and I got up. There was a minor hiccup when I came to use the loo - the light switch is broken and tiddling in the dark can be something of a game if you don't know where to aim.

I made toast and as I scoffed it, I watched something new on Netflix. I'm now three episodes in, and I still can't decide if "Future Man" is either really good or really bad; I can't make my mind up. It would help if the script writer didn't keep having the characters point out just how derivative the show is of other sci-fi shows. Realistically there are very few new ideas on telly and nowhere more so than in sci-fi.

 

As I watched telly so I heard the bin men going up the road. I got dressed and weaved my way through the discarded bins to my car. The bin men had again left the bins in such a way as to totally block the pavement.  I really should get on to my local councillor about it... I've contacted her in the past and not found her to be very helpful. And it would seem she's missed more council meetings than she's showed up for.

I'll drop her a line and see what happens.

 

As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were talking about that idiot Donald Trump who was claiming that the rest of the world had contributed pretty much nothing to the conflict in Afghanistan.

Offence had been taken round the world. I can't help but think that the global community do themselves no favours by taking Donald Trump seriously.  He's got a proven track record of saying all sorts of confrontational and outrageous statements which he then either completely forgets that he ever said or backtracks entirely. At the beginning of the week there was all sorts of talk about tariffs against anyone who opposed his proposed annexation of Greenland. Now, that's all dead in the water.

The international community should treat him like an idiot toddler, smile at him, pat him on the head, take no notice, and get on with the serious business of running the world safe in the knowledge that whatever he says he will do today bears no relation to what he  will say he will do tomorrow.

 

I went to Sainsburys to get lunch, then joined the traffic jam in Hermitage lane. It took as long to drive the mile up that road as it did to drive the twenty-five miles from home to the bottom of that road. I wouldn't have minded if anyone had actually been doing anything in those road works. You'd think there would be some law saying that if a major thoroughfare is to be closed for road works, then those road works have to actually happen, wouldn't you?

 

Work was work. I did my bit. This evening there was far less traffic trying to get through  the road works at peak time than there had been at half past seven this morning.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up fish and chips which we scoffed watching the final of “Junior Bake Off”, and after that the final of “The Traitors”. I won’t give spoilers, but what are we going to watch on the telly now…

22 January 2026 (Thursday) - Plov

After a good night’s sleep I checked the weather forecast. Yesterday it had been for a dry morning. This morning it said drizzle becoming rain, getting heavier as the day wore on. So I scoffed my toast quickly and took the dogs out to make the most of the best weather.

 

As we drove I listened to the radio as I do. That idiot Donald Trump was in the news again. Really he should be addressed as “President”, but sadly “that idiot” is really the best I can do. He’s announced that there is a "framework of a future deal with respect to Greenland", but he’s rather vague on the specifics, and no one had any idea what he’s talking about.

And there was an interview with the head honcho of Britain’s foster carers. I thought about turning the radio off; this is a sensitive subject for me. But I forced myself to listen, and my piss boiled. There’s fewer and fewer people willing to be foster parents, and the government is looking to ways to alleviate this As far as I’m concerned, the answer is obvious – don’t take children away from their mothers on the strength of lies made by the  inexperienced.

The woman being interviewed was saying about how foster parents are regularly inspected (so they should be), and one thing which would help the foster parents would be for them to be provided with cleaners.

So… the state can take a child into foster care because its home isn’t felt to be clean enough… and then the state will provide a cleaner for the house into which it puts the child because that house isn’t clean enough?

You can’t make this up…

I took a deep breath…

 

The woods were busy today. I’ve never seen so many squirrels about. And neither had the dogs. They had a great time. And I’ve never seen so many people in the woods either. All were friendly. It was a shame that the two young ladies had to shout everything to each other; they were walking two yards from each other and I could hear their conversation from a hundred yards away.

We had a minor episode at the half-way point. There’s a point where the path turns through a right-angle and you can’t see round the corner till you get there. Morgan had run off ahead like he does. He knows the woods and comes back when called so I wasn’t worried. But I turned the corner and saw someone who was worried. Morgan was wagging his tail at some woman who was shrieking into her phone shouting “What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?” like a stuck record. She saw me, and asked if I knew anything about the lost dog she had just found. Bearing in mind he’d been out of my sight for maybe ten seconds I would hardly describe him as “lost”; she must have already been on the phone as she wouldn’t have had time to make a phone call in the time available.

 

We walked a slightly different route to our usual one today – it was about half a mile longer than usual. We walked for about an hour and three quarters and it stayed dry for us. So much for weather forecasts, eh?

We came home for a bath; bellies had got seriously grubby.

I voomed round the garden harvesting dog dung.

I voomed over my head with the clippers and saved a small fortune; have you seen the price of a haircut these days?

I went over the road to the shop and got the makings of dinner, and spent the afternoon making it.

 

In between boiling up some plov I watched the last three episodes of “Soulmates” which was rather good. Good science-fiction works by having believable characters, and this show worked rather well. Such a shame it has been cancelled.

 

“er indoors ^TM” came home from a day in the office. We sparked up the telly and watched more “Junior Bake Off” as we scoffed dinner. It wasn’t that bad really… I suppose. I must admit I never really like scoffing anything that I’ve cooked myself. But I can’t help but think that the entire “plov” idea was a bit keen. Next time I’ll just curry up the chicken and maybe fanny about with the rice?

But the bottle of rose wasn’t bad.

“The Traitors” is on is a minute…

 

And if any of my loyal readers are interested, here’s my recipe for plov… It was probably too much for the two of us, but unless you add a side salad or something it’s not really enough for four. The entire lot came in at about one thousand five hundred calories…

 

Ingredients

 

• Two apples
• Two parsnips
• Three carrots
• Two chicken breasts
• Half a pound of rice.
• Curry powder (whatever flavour you fancy)

 

Chop up the apples, parsnips and carrots. Chuck them into a pan of water and simmer until soft.

(about an hour or so)

Chop up the chicken breasts and fry in hot oil for a couple of minutes.

Tosh a cup of water with the curry powder in with the chicken breasts and leave it to marinade (or soak for the less culinary amongst us).

Boil up the rice for fifteen minutes.

Drain the vegetables, mash them up, and put them on the bottom of a pasta dish (about half an inch deep).

Stick the cooked chicken on the mashed vegetables.

Cover with the cooked rice (save any extra rice for the dogs – they love it).

Cover it with tin foil, stick in a pre-warmed oven and bake at 200 degrees for half an hour or so.

Take off the cover and bake for another ten minutes.

Scoff with a bottle of rose wine (hello sailor)