1 February 2026 (Sunday) - Early Shift

I woke at four o'clock. Not exactly raring to go, but I was awake. I got up and watched an episode of "Harlots" as I scoffed my toast. I wonder just how historically accurate that show is. Even with no jubblies being brandished it was certainly more interesting than the history lessons I had at school. Our history teacher had us (over the course of a year) copy out some rather dull text book, and consequently we learned nothing.

Taking care not to wake anyone I got ready for work and set off. As I drove west-wards I was amazed at how many other people were up and about at six o'clock on a Sunday morning. So many houses with lights on; so many cars driving far too fast on a very dark, wet and rainy morning.

As I drove I listened to the radio.  It started off with an article about the history of film-making. Apparently colour film was first seriously developed by Hitler's Germany, and so using colour film was seen by many as a political thing and using it was felt by many to be supporting the Nazis. And this is (supposedly) why black and white films persisted so long when colour film was available. Don't say I never learn you nuffink!

This was followed by half an hour about the history of the Old Gloucester breed of cattle. What might have been a very dull subject was brought to life and I found myself engrossed.

I went in to the early shift and had a rather full-on day. Periodically I looked out the window and saw that it rained pretty much all day. I don’t mind working at the weekends when it rains.

Eventually home time came, and I came home.

Having left home in the dark I got home just as it was getting dark. I found that “er indoors ^TM” had been busy doing laundry, and I was dragooned into helping make the bed. My contribution was to measure the duvet; apparently duvets and duvet covers come in a range of sizes. I had no idea.

We had a rather good bit of dinner, then spent the evening playing “Ticket to Ride” on the Infinity table. We had three games: Europe, Switzerland and Nordic Countries. I amazed myself by winning two games. Now I’m beginning to understand the scoring, this game is getter better and better….

I’m glad we got the Infinity table out; weekend days when I work can be somewhat dull otherwise…

2 February 2026 (Monday) - A Day Off (?)

I had a relatively good night. However if I’m in my pit for more than six hours I usually start aching and my hips were particularly painful this morning. I got up, and did my usual morning routine.

The Internet was much the same as it ever is. The river had burst its banks near Asda again. And again people were queueing up to whinge, but no one was prepared to whinge at the councillors and MPs and agencies that could do something about it. The local Green councillor has said that there’s been a study done and the issue is that the river needs dredging downstream. However he says that’s someone else’s department. If only people would tell the Environment Agency about the floods rather than posting on Facebook… if only people understood how the world works.

And there was a lot of complaining about cyclists vooming about in the dark, all clad in black with no lights on their bikes. I’ve seen several of these lately along the A28. Do they really want to get flattened; you don’t see them until they are nearly under the front wheels of your car.

I Munzed, and with the dogs having had their brekkie I took them to the woods.

As we drove the pundits on the radio were having a “discussion” about genetically modified foods in which a university professor explained exactly what genetically modified stuff is all about, and a clueless half-wit spouted complete rubbish. It bothers me that the BBC treat considered expert opinion and deranged ranting as being of equal value.

We got to the woods and Morgan immediately downloaded. I sighed, bagged it and left it by my car’s front wheel; I wasn’t going to carry that round the woods. It wasn’t long before we met another dog, The dog came and said hello; Bailey screamed in terror and bolted, and Treacle and Morgan both leapt forward to stick up for her by shouting at the other dog...

It was all soon sorted; a total over-reaction by Bailey, but the poor woman with the other dog was distraught with worry about poor Bailey (who can be a real drama queen at times). I eventually persuaded the poor woman that no harm had been done and all was fine, and we continued our walk. We took a slightly different walk to our usual one to avoid the worst of the mud. After Bailey’s scare the rest of the walk was rather dull. But we had a minor result; when we got back to the car someone had tidied up the bad of dog dung I’d left.

We came home. I washed the mud (and fox poo) off of the dogs. I set the washing machine going, made us both a cuppa, and we had it with a lemon curd bun. I then did geo-paperwork.

First of all I got on to English Heritage (again). Back in December I contacted them about getting permission to set up an EarthCache at Camber Castle. They said to give them ten days… thirty-five have passed.

And then I looked at the geocaching Adventure Lab I’d set up at Lenham church. It’s a simple thing; you call it up in the geocaching Adventure Lab app and it takes you to five locations round the church and asks you a question. One of the locations is the War Memorial. You go there where you can see the names of lots of people on the memorial and their occupations. The question is “What is the occupation of M E Gale?” So you look at the War Memorial, find where it says “M E Gale – nurse”, and type “nurse” into the app. One hundred and twenty people have managed to do this so far, but this morning as we’d walked round the woods I’d had a message that someone had logged that the question wasn’t clear. How much clearer can I make it?

I sent out no end of invites to this month’s geo-meet.

By then the washing machine was done so I hung the washing on the clothes horse, put more washing in, wrote up some CPD, marked more trainee portfolio work, and then feeling as though I hadn’t stopped I turned on the telly and did my usual thing of spending the afternoon getting cross at the contestants in “Four In A Bed”.

Here’s a tip for anyone going on that show – if someone says something insulting or upsetting about your establishment, you will be the second one to find out. The first will be absolutely everyone else because they actually show the problem on the telly. Just saying “I don’t believe you” makes you look to be a twit when they’ve already shown the issue to the rest of the world.

During the adverts I hung out washing and put the undercrackers into scrub.

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up pizza and then went off bowling. I settled on the sofa and watched more episodes of “Harlots” which is a surprisingly good show. It’s now got to the point that the plot is so good that they don’t need to keep brandishing the jubblies. And they aren’t. Which is probably for the best…

3 February 2026 (Tuesday) - A Bottle of Plonk

I managed a couple of hours sleep until “er indoors ^TM” and the dogs quietly came to bed last night. The minor riot didn't last *that* long, but it was some time before they all stopped fidgetting. I dozed on and off; eventually giving up and getting up at five o'clock. 

I watched another episode of "Harlots"; the plot is getting rather good. And then I had a quick look at the Internet. A friend was asking if anyone remembered The Grumbleweeds. I used to listen to them all the time when I was a lad. They were perhaps the funniest thing that had ever been on the radio. “Wilf "Gas Mask" Grimshaw” always had me in hysterics. And then they moved to being on the telly. What a disappointment. Full of confidence on the radio, they would make half-hearted attempts at jokes when on screen, and then nervously smile at the camera in the desperate hope that someone might chuckle. Hilarious on the radio, just pitiful on the telly. Such a shame.

And I saw adverts for the Folkestone Shoreline development. On Saturday I mentioned the flats on Folkestone seafront; this morning my Facebook feed was crawling with adverts for the place.

Taking care not to disturb anyone I got ready for work. It was rather amazing how a gang which could be so noisy and restless in the small hours could be so peaceful at seven o'clock.

I got to my car and eventually set off. Some idiot had wedged his mini into the space in front of my car leaving me maybe eight inches of space. There certainly wasn't enough space to walk between my car and that mini.

Once on my way I listened to the pundits on the radio talking about (soon to be ex-) Lord Mandelson who (when in government) apparently passed on no end of confidential information to disgraced Jeffrey Epstein quite possibly giving him the heads-up for all sorts of dodgy dealings.

I went in to Sainsburys where I got a sandwich and a bottle of plonk. As I scanned the bottle through the self-service machine it said it needed clearance for me to be allowed the bottle of plonk. The delightful assistant (who hates me filling the self-service machine with all the copper and silver coins I cash up from the Dog Club takings) stomped over, scanned her card into the machine, and stomped off again. At no stage did she actually speak or even grunt to me. She then stood and glared as I emptied all the copper and silver coins from last Saturday's Dog Club into the self-service machine. When I was done I proudly told her that I'd put over nine quid's worth of small change in and that my pocket felt a lot lighter.  She turned a rather bright shade of red. I don't know why this bothers her... but it is rather amusing that it does.

As I worked “er indoors ^TM” sent a message. The nice boiler mad had been and done the annual service. Apparently we needed a new gasket, and he sorted that for us.

Coming home was a nightmare. What with hold-ups at junctions seven and eight on the motorway and unattended traffic lights on Chart Road the journey home from Maidstone (which usually takes forty-five minutes) took just over two hours.

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up some very good burritos which we washed down with the bottle of plonk I’d bought earlier. Sainsbury’s “House Malbec” is rather good stuff, and you get change out of a fiver as well. I shall get another bottle of that tomorrow.

As we scoffed we watched the latest episode of “The Traitors: Ireland”. This lot of contestants are rather argumentative…

4 February 2026 (Wednesday) - Early Shift

I woke in a cold sweat at half past four this morning following a rather vivid dream in which I was unable to unblock my tent's drain which was bunged up with a variety of geocaches. 

I wasn't going to get back to sleep after that so I got up, made toast and watched an episode of "Harlots" in which the main protagonists were getting rather lesbidaceous (which was rather entertaining). But one thing in the show made me wonder. Were there really gentlemen's clubs in which members would get together to kill prostitutes two hundred years ago? No one ever told me about them; if true, that would have made Mr. Fletcher's frankly dull history lessons far more interesting.

I got dressed, and set off to work.  The road works on Chart Road that delayed me for an hour last night were still there this morning. One of the busiest roads in the town bunged up with traffic lights and reduced to single file traffic whilst absolutely no work was taking place. There were quite impressive queues at six o'clock this morning; it would have been mayhem at rush hour. I really don't see why road works on a major thoroughfare can't be worked on round the clock until the job is done.

Going up the motorway wasn't good either. With the slow lane filled with lorries going at fifty miles per hour and the middle lane filled with lorries overtaking them at fifty-one miles per hour I was again forced into the fast lane and was constantly tail-ended by those anxious to fly past at breakneck speeds.

As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about all the government's latest initiative for cancer screening... Am I being cynical in thinking that this will be dead in the water before it even starts? What the current (and every) government needs to do is to leave the NHS alone and stop re-organising. The NHS spends too much time having re-organisations at the expense of doing what it is supposed to do.

I stopped off in Sainsbury to get a sandwich and another bottle of the Malbec that I got yesterday. Getting the sandwich took some doing; there was some bloke blundering about in front of the fridge who was utterly oblivious to the world around him. The chap was genuinely surprised and shocked when he crashed into the woman standing next to him and suddenly realised he wasn't alone. He clearly had no idea there was anyone else in the shop with him.

Again the self-service machine wanted verification that I was old enough to buy a bottle of plonk, and again the woman doing the verification refused to acknowledge me in any way. Would saying "hello" or "good morning" have caused her physical pain?

I got to work and did my bit.  As I did I had a phone call. Jane from "Later Living Help Line" was keen to tell me that if I needed to go into residential care the fees could be as much as six thousand quid per month. Did I want an initial free consultation with one of their experts. This expert would then advise me on which sort of specialist expert I would need to pay to tell me pretty much what I already knew.

If I need residential care it won't come cheap. I've decided I don't want it and if I get to the stage of needing it, then would rather have my plug pulled.

I told her that I wasn't interested, but she seemed reluctant to be told to buzz off. To be honest I found her telephone manner rather off-putting; she spoke to me as though I was already senile. I suppose that's her target audience though, isn't it.

Also as I worked I saw something rather nasty. Loa loa is a parasitic worm; about a tenth of a centimetre long it swims around in your blood and can live for over fifteen years. As parasites go they are rather good at it as (for the most part) they are innocuous and you don't realise they are there. I'm told that "they make good lodgers" (!), and also that if you've got an infestation I'm told you can sometimes see them swimming in your field of vision as they can get into your eyes. 

Fortunately today's case was a quality control one; a sample sent to us from the London School of Tropical Medicine to check we know what we are doing. But it's still something rather nasty... 

And if that hasn't turned your stomach enough, bear in mind that it could be worse. I can remember deciding that I didn't want to be a medical microbiologist one summer's day in 1982 when I watched the head of the microbiology department holding up a bottle of diarrhoea, and several senior colleagues were all delighted that they could see things swimming in it.

I don't often mention what I do at work. Much of it is rather confidential, and much of it turns people's stomachs... being a blood tester isn't for the faint-hearted... 

Being on the early shift meant I left work whilst it was still light, and with the road works in Chart Road finished I got home a lot quicker than I did yesterday. And with the road works in Chart Road finished it was quite clear that had they cracked on with it last night, this morning’s delays would have been avoided.

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up chicken escallops which we scoffed whilst watching more of “The Traitors: Ireland” in which the contestants again spent much of the time bitterly bickering with each other.

Having been up since half past four I might have an early night…

5 February 2026 (Thursday) - Rather Busy

I intended to have an early night last night: I eventually went to my pit shortly before one o’clock. But the dogs were tired and soon settled, and with them quiet I slept well.

I got up at eight o’clock, made toast and had my usual look at the Internet. Reform UK featured quite prominently in my Facebook feed this morning. Two of its latest recruits have ballsed up and mistakenly voted against party policy in the House of Commons. And having got voted into power in the local county council after promising endless savings, the Reform UK councillor in charge of making them has resigned because they’ve had a year and not actually made any savings.

However on a more local level things are different. Our Reform UK councillor is working wonders in highlighting the issues with the pot holes in the local roads. And sadly our local (Labour) MP is full of hot air, and has turned out to be something of a disappointment..

I sent out birthday wishes, Munzed, and starting with “Tired” I eventually Wordled my way to “swoop” on the last attempt.

The weather forecast was light rain showers for the whole day, so I took a chance and took the dogs to the woods. As I drove “In Our Time” was on the radio; today talking about the plays of William Shakespeare. He died over four hundred years ago, and according to Wikipedia he “is widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist”. So many people still rave about his works. We read his plays at school… I can remember them being tedious and dull. But (like with pretty much every bit of literature we ever read at school), the teachers did their level best to kill it stone dead. Many years ago we also read “Fahrenheit 451”, “Lord of the Flies”, “2001”, “Animal Farm”, “1984”, “All Quiet on the Western Front” (among others). My English teachers over-analysed everything, made all sorts of tenuous nonsensical connections and extrapolations, and sucked all the pleasure and enjoyment out of every book we ever come close to. Years later I went back to these books (and others) to find that they are actually rather good.

Why do English teachers make a point of putting students off of reading?

I really should try Shakespeare again…

We got to the woods to find the light rain had subsided to little more than drizzle. We kept (mostly) to the more well-trodden tracks and once we were away from the car park the woods weren’t as muddy as they might have been. But sticking to these tracks meant our walk was about a mile shorter than usual.

We came home where the dogs had their paws and bellies washed. I made us both a cuppa and sparked up my lap-top. A friend had seen the Prime Minister in Hastings. He was talking about the ongoing Mendelson scandal… He won’t last. The trouble he faces is that he average voter doesn’t understand politics and just wants to be entertained.

I marked more trainee work, wrote up some CPD, did a lesson and some puzzles on chess dot com, put washing in to scrub and then had a minor pootle in the garden. The seed in the bird feeder had got damp and had sprouted into grass, so I eventually managed to get the thing apart, I got the grass out and scrubbed it up. I put the bits on the radiator to dry.

By then my shirts were washed so I ironed them. Shirts are far easier to iron when still damp. And then I cracked on with the rest of the ironing. As I did I watched some episodes of “Four In a Bed” in which like was certainly *not* compared with like. There was a rather fancy hotel (which pulled out after the second episode), a Blackpool seaside B&B, a rather rough and ready pub, and a glamping campsite. It really wasn’t a fair contest, but it rarely is.

I put the bird feeder back together again, filled it, and put it back into place just as it was getting dark.

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up pork chops which we scoffed whilst watching this week’s episode of “Star Trek: Starfleet Academy” which was perhaps the best one so far. I won’t give any spoilers, but having been a Trekkie for over fifty years did help…

Oh – and as the rain continues to fall, the hosepipe ban has been lifted.

6 February 2026 (Friday) - Light's Fixed

It was hossing down when I got up this morning. I made toast and had a look at a rather dull Internet. Nothing much was kicking off for once. There was a new series of geocaches near Edenbridge; I thought they might be puzzles which would give me something to do until the rain stopped. But they weren’t.

After half an hour I saw the rain was easing off. If I was to believe weather forecasts I’d never leave the house, so I took a chance and took the dogs out. As we drove Professor Michele Dougherty was on Desert Island Discs. She’s been the lead investigator on several of NASA’s planetary probes and she was rather interesting. Her choice of music was eclectic to say the least, ranging from classical music to operatic dirges, Christmas carols and Abba.

We got to the woods and had a good walk. Like yesterday we stayed away from the muddiest parts. I ran the birdsong app; it detected quite a few more birds than it has done recently, and for the first time it detected an owl.

We came home where “er indoors ^TM” was playing music from The Wombles on the Alexa. I scrubbed the dogs, made us both a cuppa, wrote up some CPD, and then had my daily go at Wordle. Starting with “daily” was a better move than many of my first choices. “Latte” took me one letter closer, and “pales” told me where the “e” and the “l” went. “Camel” took me no further, but “bagel” gave me the clue I needed to come up with “gavel” on the last attempt.

We cleared the space by the fuse box, and soon there was a tap on the door. Two weeks ago the light switch in the loo broke, and the nice man came to replace it with a new one today. I had looked at the job myself, but I’m a great believer in getting in someone who knows what they are doing. The nice man took out the broken switch, put in a new one, and was on his way in twenty minutes. I would have been at it all day.

I then spent a little while geo-plotting. Do I want to put out a new series of geocaches… I quite like setting the things up, and planning them gives me something to do.

I then spent much of the afternoon snuggled on the sofa with Morgan reading “Harry Potter” on my Kindle app.

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up pizza and chips which we scoffed whilst watching episodes of “The Floor”.

Today has been rather lazy; I’m really going to have an early night tonight… but first I’m going to the toilet because I can see what I’m doing in there now… I’ve been saving it for the works chodbin for the last fortnight…

7 February 2026 (Saturday) - Working, Games Night

I fell asleep on the sofa yesterday evening which is always a bad thing. When I went to my pit I lay awake for over an hour, and when I finally did nod off I didn’t sleep for long. I eventually awoke in a cold sweat following a nightmare in which a friend I’ve not seen for years was accused of having done some petty crime fifty years ago and it was up to me to persuade Doctor Who to take me back to the late seventies to get evidence to prove his innocence.

I got up, made toast and watched an episode of “Harlots” in which the rich and powerful got richer and powerful-er whilst continuing to piss on the paupers who got more pauper-ish. As Oliver Hardy once remarked, “twas ever thus”.

I sparked up my lap-top and had a look at the internet. Very little (i.e.nothing) had happened overnight, so I Munzed, and got ready for work.

I didn’t want to go to work this morning. I would rather have done Dog Club but I’ve got quite a lot of weekend shifts at the moment and swapping had proved too tricky. The only consolation was that I wasn’t missing Steve on the radio; the local radio station has had a little hiatus because of a power outage which poggered the transmitter (so I am reliably informed).

I drove to work listening to Radio Four. This morning the pundits on there were talking about ex-Prime Minister Gordon Brown who is seemingly tiddling his knickers in terror over the entire Peter Mandelson - Jeffrey Epstein scandal. About twenty years ago Gordon Brown appointed Peter Mandelson to some government post or other, and he now regrets it. And he is taking a lot of trouble to make it clear that he regrets it; even though at the time all the evidence was that Peter Mandelson was the best man for the job, and there was no hint of any impropriety at all.

It looks likely that the current Prime Minister is going to be out on his arse for much the same reason.

How on Earth can we run a country terrified that decisions made in good faith will be held against us twenty years later when something we didn't know comes to light? 

I got to work earlier than I needed to, and treated myself to an almond croissant from the works M&S. Have you ever been to the food hall at M&S? In years gone by it was *the* place to go for a special treat. These days they seem to be relying on their reputation rather than living up to it. Their meal deals are over a pound more than those in Sainsburys and are rather basic. I spent a tenner on one of their meals when “er indoors ^TM” was out gallivanting a while back; jam on toast would have been better. This morning I paid double what the local corner shop charges for an almond croissant, and what I got was far inferior to that which I could have got from that local corner shop.

I went into work and did my thing. I try not to dwell on what goes on at work... ten years ago when working "somewhere else" I got a formal written disciplinary warning for saying that night shifts made me tired. But I will repeat what our works' chief executive said in his daily update which I read this morning: the day before yesterday we had over four hundred patients turn up at the A&E department. That's about one patient every three and a half minutes, all day and night.

I came home and spent much of the afternoon dozing underneath a pile of  dogs.

Karl and Tracey came round for the evening and we had a rather good evening playing all sorts of games on the Infinity Table. We had a particularly good evening,,, even if the evening did get rather more vague as it wore on,,,

Must do it again…

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

9 February 202 6 (Monday) - Squirrel Bite

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

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

I Munzed, then took the dogs for a walk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ve got to go to work tomorrow…

11 February 2026 (Wednesday) - Before the Late Shift

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s probably got a point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

13 February 2026 (Friday) - The News

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

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

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

I Munzed, then got ready for work.

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

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

Surely the Cabinet Secretary should do as he is told? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

16 February 2026 (Monday) - This n That

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

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

Democracy, eh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh dear…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

17 February 2026 (Tuesday) - Before the Late Shift

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

It hadn’t really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

18 February 2026 (Wednesday) - Before Another Late Shift

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I could.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

19 February 2026 (Thursday) - Rostered Day Off

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

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

AI still has a lot to learn.

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

Well…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

21 February 2026 (Saturday) - A Birthday

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

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

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

And I had several birthday messages too.

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

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

Oh dear…

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

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

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

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

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

As birthdays go, today was rather good.

22 February 2026 (Sunday) - Rather Tired

Despite a full-on day yesterday I didn’t sleep at all well. It was gone midnight before I staggered off to my pit, but I was wide awake listening to the assorted snoring and dreaming by three o’clock.

I eventually gave up trying to sleep at half past seven and made toast. This time not with the apricot jam; I’ve rather gone off of that stuff.

I had my usual look at the internet. One hundred and eight people had sent birthday wishes, and quite a few others had commented on those wishes. That’s one of the reasons that I like Facebook – it is so easy to keep in touch with people that I don’t actually see from one year to the next.

And I saw that “The Great British Pub Crawl” had been in Hastings over the last couple of days… I’m not quite sure what “The Great British Pub Crawl” is all about. Regularly posting to Facebook, this chap seems to be on a mission to visit every pub in the UK. But exactly how do you finance this? The chap reported on twenty-five Hastings pubs over the last couple of days. If he only had a half-pint in every pub, that’s over seventy quid, and that’s not including his overnight accommodation. Is he being sponsored or paid to do this? 

I Munzed, then Wordled from “hurts” through “lumpy”, “fudge” and “guano” to “guava”. I got “guava” because it was the only thing that fitted. Apparently it’s a sort of fruit. One lives and learns.

I then had a look at all the trackables left over from yesterday’s geo-meet. Trackables are little things that get moved on from geocache to geocache. I’ve got quite a few of my own that I’ve set off. In theory you can follow their movements around the world. In practice they tend to go missing. Half of mine have gone missing. People pick them up and forget to log them. People pick them up and have no idea how to log them… I’ve logged all that were left at the meet yesterday and told the system that I’ve got them. There were quite a few, but right now there is only one left logged into the meet. Hopefully whoever has got that will do the secret geo-ritual soon.

I challenged the bots at chess dot com and managed to get one stalemate and one win against a level one thousand bot. I got beaten several times, but this bot doesn’t gloat when it wins, which is polite of it.

I had planned on a little dog walk this morning, but the weather was against it. And the dogs were worn out from yesterday. Even on days when we have a decent walk, the dogs still sleep for probably eighteen hours a day. Yesterday they were awake for about three times as long as they usually are during the day, and so were catching up on sleep. They got up late, grudgingly had brekkie, and then slept. Usually they ask to go for a walk, but not this morning. “er indoors ^TM” went shopping, and once I’d gathered the dog dung, filled the bird feeder and run round with the hoover I sat with the dogs and we all had a little sleep.

“My Boy ^TM” and ”Auntie Chel ^TM” came round for the afternoon and we had a rather good time on the Infinity Table. “Sorry” and “Trouble” and “Tilez” and “Ticket To Ride”… we had a very good few hours. And when they set off home we played a couple more games of  Ticket To Ride” – the Nordic countries and the Asia versions.

For all that I’ve had a very lazy day today, I’m absolutely worn out… Once the washing machine has done its thing and I’ve hung the washing out, I’m thinking about an early night.

23 February 2026 (Monday) - Ultra Violet

I had some of that apricot jam on my toast this morning. The quicker I get it scoffed, the quicker it will be gone. I peered into the Internet and rolled my eyes. People who still live only a hundred yards from where they were born were complaining about how bad Ashford has become. I did laugh when some woman ranted about how Internet shopping had killed the town and how she wouldn’t do on-line shopping… only Amazon But Ashford isn’t “bad”; it’s just different to how it used to be. The town centre isn’t what it once was, but there’s more to a town than going shopping. Isn’t there? There’s often events in the town’s parks. Viccie park has been done up beyond all recognition. There’s the carnival of lights in November that started recently. There’s all sorts of activities and clubs. People on the local Facebook groups are taken in by all the complaining about the council which is coming from people who don’t seem to understand what the local council actually does.

The town is what you make it. I’m reminded of a chap with whom I used to work who moved between pretty much all of the major towns in Kent and was never happy anywhere.

I Munzed, and Wordled from “major” through “beach” and “acids” to “attic”, and my lap-top told me that the AVG antivirus has upgraded its assessment of the home network and now says it is “trusted”. It’s taken long enough to come to that conclusion.

The plan had been for Morgan to wait patiently whilst Treacle and Bailey had their appointments with Doggy Dentals, but we’d had a message that the nice Doggy Dentist lady was ill. She thinks she’s got COVID… That’s not good. I said we can reschedule (which we can).

So instead of going to the woods via the dentist, we went straight to the woods where we walked just over four miles. We got a bit muddy… and very much fox poo-ey. What is the attraction of fox poo for dogs?

We came home for a serious scrub in the bath. With soap (!)

I made us both a cuppa, then had a little pootle in the garden. I managed to get the ultra-violet bulbs out the two pond filters without breaking either, and without any swearing which I saw as a major victory.

I then went to Dobbies to get replacement bulbs as they need replacing every year. I had a minor brainstorm and drove to Bybrook Barn instead…

Well, as I was there I went in to the aquatic section.

Oh dear.

The first chap I saw made a point of ignoring me. The second one wasn’t quite as disinterested, but when I asked if he’d got a replacement ultra-violet light bulb for the one in my hand he vaguely waved his hand and said they were “over there” and stared at me when I didn’t go rushing off “over there”. I told him that they were probably cheaper at Dobbies, walked out and went round to Maidenhead Aquatics at Dobbies where the staff were far more helpful. Sadly they only had one bulb, but they are getting a delivery later in the week… and they made a point of giving me a card with their phone number so I can ring them before I go and avoid a wasted journey.

I came home, and settled in front of the telly and watched episodes of “Four In A Bed” in which everyone got on rather well and no one fell out, which made for rather dull viewing.

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up burgers for tea, and with them scoffed she went off to bowling. I sat with the dogs and as they snored I watched a couple more episodes of “Boots” as the undercrackers washed. It’s Monday evening; it’s undercrackers washing time. I am such a creature of habit…

24 February 2026 (Tuesday) - ChatGPT

I slept reasonably well up until four o’clock then had something of a dilemma. Did I lay in bed for a few more hours desperately needing the loo. Or should I get up and surrender all the bed space to the dogs.

I got up, did what I had to do, and managed to get back onto the bed

I dozed on and off until half past seven.

I got up, made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do. This morning I was inundated with adverts for pressure filters for fish ponds. Having looked at one yesterday had clearly given the algorithms something to play with.

With nothing much else happening on-line I looked at the monthly accounts. I really could do with having far more money; is that greedy of me?

I took the dogs out. As we drove the pundits on the radio were continuing the article I was listening to last week about the hacker who’d tried to blackmail thousands of people. There was an interview with the chap this morning. He denied all responsibility and said that someone else did it; someone he knew but he wouldn’t say who it was. The chap clearly had no remorse for what he had done… and I suspect it won’t be that long before he’s out of prison.

We got to the wood where we walked a different route to our usual one. A marginally less muddy one. Though only marginally. We still got grubby. As we walked we saw the bluebells are starting to come up. And we met a few of the normal people with dogs on those ridiculously long leads. Some people must love untying knots.

As we drove out of the car park so the car in front of us had their dog’s lead hanging out of the door. Had it caught in anything it would have snapped the poor dog’s neck. I followed that car flashing my lights and eventually got them to stop. I had to repeat that the dog’s lead was hanging out four times before the woman actually looked out of the driver’s window to see what the issue was… and then she screamed about what might have happened.

We came home to see loads of people milling round the church up the road; all in black. And as I tried to drive down the road I had to slam on the brakes as some idiot old woman (also all in black and carrying a wreath) blundered into the middle of the road and just stood there. Eventually another funeral-goer came and tried to lead her away, but she didn’t want to go, and was having nothing to do with being told that she couldn’t stand in the middle of the road.

I gave the dogs a bath. Fortunately there was no fox poo to wash off today; only dried mud. I made us both a cuppa, Munzed, and Wordled from “being” through “breed”, “blare” and “bores” to “buyer”. Then I had a pootle in the garden.

I had a go with the battery powered pressure washer. Sadly that thing is on the crap side and I soon gave up with it. I couldn’t be arsed to get the proper one out, so instead I got the bionic burner out and had a go at the weeds coming through the patio.

I then had a look at the morning’s post and was disappointed. What I had hoped was written permission for my next geo-project was actually a bill for the thick end of two hundred quid for our recent boiler overhaul. I played around with ChatGPT, looked at a possible walk for tomorrow, and made myself a sandwich.

I then did my usual trick of watching episodes of “Four In A Bed”. Today’s were rather good; the contestants didn’t take long to hate each other.

One of the places competing was a pub in Edenbridge where last year we had a geo-meet. It was run by a rather vindictive chap who penalised a competitor by fifteen quid for trivia, and then had the right hump when that same one penalised him a measly three quid for quite serious failings, and he wasn’t at all happy that another marked him down for letting out a room with a broken bed. He *really* didn’t thank that a broken bed was a valid reason for underpaying.

Despite not having had the letter of permission that I’d been hoping for, I then spent a little while preparing the geocaching event page for the event (in the hope that permission would be forthcoming).

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good chili which we scoffed whilst watching the last two episodes of “The Traitors: Ireland”.  The show does make me laugh sometimes… one girl was accused of being a traitor because she hadn’t been voted out. I said she hadn’t been voted out because of the most entertaining way in which she brandished her chest.

Who was right… let’s just say she wasn’t a traitor but might as well have turned up in the nip for all that her so-called clothing kept secret…

25 February 2026 (Wednesday) - The Crab and Winkle Way

I slept reasonably well, but woke up at half past six shivering. I had no duvet; where had it all gone? I used Morgan and Bailey as hot water bottles.

I made toast and had a look at the geocaching website. Last September I put out a series of caches in Parkwood (near Appledore). Last night a friend told me that the given hint for the sixth one didn’t match the actual location. It mentioned a multi-trunked tree and a gate. That was odd – I can distinctly remember those geocaches. There’s a multi-trunked tree and a gate at the fifth one; the sixth is at the base of a big tree. I had a look at the website. I’d written down the wrong hint. You’d have thought that one of the previous twenty-odd finders would have said something? But I was glad that the issue was easily sorted. For all that those woods are a lovely place to walk, there’s something about them that sets Bailey off. She’s gone missing every time I’ve let her off of the lead down there, and now I take no chances when we go there, and she sulks as the other dogs are allowed to run and she isn’t.

There wasn’t much else happening on-line. Fans of Reform UK and Restore Britain were posting lies about the Labour party and calling them names. Fans of the Labour party were posting lies about Reform UK and Restore Britain and calling them names.

I prepped “Hannah” for the day, and with a couple of minutes to spare I logged into “Threads”. It doesn’t look very different to Facebook. I logged in to it using Instagram (as it is part of the same company)… Threads, Instagram, Facebook… three platforms from the same company all doing pretty much the same thing. What’s that all about?

I Munzed, and Wordled from “names” to “shred” via “speed” and “shied”, and then we got ready for the off.

With a good day forecast “er indoors ^TM” had booked the day off work. Having had a good experience in Whitstable a little while ago we thought we might try the place again. Ironically a day or so after we came home from Whitstable last time a series of puzzle geocaches had gone live there. I solved them, and we waited for another good winter’s day to go on a (hopefully) non-muddy walk.

We drove to the designated parking spot and had a rather good walk. The route took us along some of the quieter roads and along a very straight part of the Crab and Winkle Way. Treacle could be trusted (mostly) but the smaller pups stayed on the leads; even if Morgan on a lead is akin to taking a train for a walk.

As we walked we took a little diversion into the cemetery where we got information from half a dozen different war graves which would give us the location of a geocache… We got the information, did the sums and ended up in the hedge of someone’s back garden. The clue said “Top of 3 ft metal post” and there was a three foot tall metal post there… but no cache. I wasn’t happy rummaging in someone’s hedge so we revisited our calculations. A different interpretation of the questions gave us a location along a public footpath which seemed a far more likely place… it was only a shame that we couldn’t find a three foot tall metal post. Ho hum…  We carried on with our walk.

As we went “er indoors ^TM” found her fourteen thousandth geocache.

Once we’d covered a shade under three miles and a shade over two hours we were back at the car. We drove off on a little diversion to get one geocache which would complete the current series of geo-treasures for both of us and then we headed homewards.

Via Badlesmere.

We stopped off in the Red Lion for a spot of lunch. The Red Lion is an old favourite of ours. We’ve been calling in there every couple of months or so for years. The beer selection is good, and the food is excellent. The place can be very busy, but today there were several empty tables… Mind you it was two o’clock and mid-week. We had a pint and a plate of dinner each. It was rather good.

I took a few photos as we walked (and scoffed). We drove home past Kings Wood. I toyed with the idea of walking round there before going home… but decided against it.

We got home – it was something of a novelty not having to bath the dogs. I read my Kindle for a bit, and then we scoffed pudding. Having had a decent meal in the pub earlier we had black forest gateau for tea. As we scoffed we watched the last episodes of “Small Prophets”. It was a rather good show… it ended with the caption “to be continued”.

I wonder if it will be.

26 February 2026 (Thursday) - Pressure Washing, Telly

I had a good night’s sleep which was something of a result. I got up at seven o’clock, made toast and had my usual look at the Internet.

There was an interesting post from “The Great British Pub Crawl” who probably made a mistake when answering a question about how he chooses his list of pubs to visit when goes to any given town. There was one particular pub in a town he’d visited which would (apparently) have been on any serious drinker’s itinerary but he hadn’t visited it. When asked why he hadn’t been to that one he said that they place had been approached to sponsor him and they’d chosen not to do so. I found myself reminded of a conversation I once had with the then manager of the Ypres Castle pub in Rye. At the time the place was far and away the best pub in Rye, but the manager openly admitted they would never get into CAMRA’s “Good Beer Guide” because he refused to put on the sumptuous buffet the judging committee expected to be given when they came round to inspect.

I wonder if CAMRA still operate that way? I was a member for years and was never once asked my opinion about my preferred local pub. I would just be told the decision made by the local committee.

And I sent out birthday wishes to someone who I thought was a lot older than me… but turns out to be a lot younger.

As I peered into the Internet so the bin lorry came up the road collecting the garden waste. They were a whole lot quieter that last Friday’s collection had been; not a single swear word was shouted up the street.

I Munzed, Wordled from “older” to “lance” via “leave” and “latte”, and got ready for the morning.

I drove the dogs up to the woods. As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about Gianni Infantino who has been the president of FIFA for the last ten years and apparently has worked wonders for international football. I did have a wry smile when the windbag being interviewed explained the secret of this chap’s success. It was claimed that it was nothing to do with his football prowess. It was claimed that just like Boris Johnson, Elon Musk and Donald Trump (and several others who were also named), the bloke was predominantly an entertainer.

And that in a nutshell is precisely what is wrong with the world right now. (I know – I keep saying this).

We got to the woods. We walked a different route to our usual one. Back in the day we kept to the same old walk so much that Fudge flatly refused to walk any other routes and had to be dragged on a lead if I wanted a change.

We had a good walk. We avoided much of the mud. We discovered a new footpath; there can’t be many in those woods that we don’t know about. We walked for five miles and for much of that we didn’t see anyone else at all.

We had a minor incident when we got back to the car though. I opened the boot and said: “Boot Dogs!”

This is the signal for those dogs that are big enough to jump into the boot (Bailey isn’t). Two jump in, one gets lifted in. I then do the whistle and the dogs all get a treat and a fuss (which reenforces the whistle training)…

Or that is the plan.

Some passer-by felt that the command “Boot Dogs!” was a direct and personal insult to her dog, and once we’d finally sorted out that no insult or offence was intended, she thought her dog might like to get involved (and get into the car boot) for a treat.

Oh dear…

We came home for a belly wash and a cuppa, and then the dogs went mad. The Evri delivery driver was putting a parcel into the box outside the house. I went outside and asked why he didn’t knock on the door; he pretended not to speak English. I took the parcel off of him, and the parcel that he’d dumped on the garden recycling bin when he suddenly could speak English and clearly told me that parcel was for someone else. When I commented that he could speak English he again pretended not to be able to do so.

Some people really don’t help themselves.

I got the pressure washer out and had a first blast at the patio. The trouble with pressure washing is that all that the pressure washer does is lift the dirt off of that which is being washed. You need to get busy with the broom to sweep the mucky water away and the drain soon clogs. But I got an hour or so’s scrubbing in. I just did the worst of it, and will get into the nooks and crannies in a few weeks when all the hibernating bugs are out.

By then I was rather worn out so I settled in front of the telly with the dogs. I watched the last of “Boots” which was rather good, and then the film “Prometheus” which wasn’t. Sadly like all the films in the “Alien” franchise it rather assumes that you have to be rather stupid to be allowed to get onto a spaceship.

As I waited for “er indoors ^TM” to come home I played with ChatGPT some more. “er indoors ^TM” eventually came home from a day at the office and boiled up pie and chips which we scoffed whilst watching this week’s episode of “Star Trek: Starfleet Academy”. Sadly the show started rather well, but after a couple of months they’ve just broadcast what must be the weakest episode of Star Trek ever. And that’s up against “Spock’s Brain” and the first three seasons of “Enterprise”. Sadly Star Trek is fast going the way of “Doctor Who” in that I want to like it, but it is taking some doing.

27 February 2026 (Friday) - Bit Dull

I  had a good night’s sleep which was something of a result, but I did ache when I got up. That’s happening more and more these days. Am I overdoing it on the dog walks?

I made toast (with strawberry jam) and had a look at the internet. I was immediately presented with a little fundraiser to give nurses a little thank-you pressie. Good old nurses… I’m not doing them down at all, but no one ever thinks about the pharmacists, gardeners, porters, cooks, radiographers, speech therapists, cleaners, dieticians, biomedical scientists, audiologists, cardiologists, secretaries, IT technicians, drivers, phlebotomists, chiropodists, paramedics…

I also saw that five Facebook friends had a birthday today. I sent out birthday wishes.

I Munzed as “er indoors ^TM” tried to get Bailey to eat her brekkie. For all that she is tiny, she’s a very fussy dog and has to be watched as she is easily bullied off of her food. She will leave a full bowl after getting just one glance from Treacle.

Despite the drizzle I took the dogs up to the woods. As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about how the Greens won the recent by-election. Reform UK came second and the Labour party were a poor third. But a poor third was rather better than the Conservatives and Dribbling Democraps managed.

No one seemed to want to mention that over half of the electorate didn’t cast a vote, so that the winner was chosen by maybe one voter in five.

We got to the woods and had a shorter walk than we often do. For the most part we stuck to gravelled tracks to try to avoid the mud. Our walk was mostly uneventful. We didn’t chase anything, we didn’t roll in anything. At one point we heard something heavy crashing in the trees, but we didn’t see anything. Probably deer. As we walked the drizzle let up, which was probably for the best.

We came home where the pups had bellies washed and I sorted a cuppa and a bit of cake for us both. I Wordled from “often” (which gave me nothing) to “dizzy” via “plaid”, “diddy”, “dicky” and dishy” and then popped over to Dobbies to get the second ultra-violet bulb I needed.

I had a vague plan to take the pressure washer to the front garden, but when I sweep the water into the gutter I’d rather not gunge up anyone else’s car. So being unable to park outside the house I thought better of that plan.

Instead I went to my fallback position of watching episodes of “Four In A Bed”. The first place was run by an aggressive screaming queen who underpaid everyone and criticised everyone for doing that which he did himself. The second place was something of a neon nightmare run by a rather pretty boy with some woman who was either his lackey or his mail-order bride (I couldn’t decide which). The third place was a campsite run by a very loud woman with her GBF, and the last place by someone who could have been everyone’s favourite auntie. They were all really friendly right up until payments were made, and then there was some serious falling out. It speaks volumes that the place that had shit stains on the towels came second.

I then amazed myself by beating the bots on chess dot com.

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good pasta bake which we scoffed whilst watching last week’s episode of “The Floor”. We’re now watching the “Eddie The Eagle” film. I can remember the real “Eddie the Eagle” coming last at the Olympics… I can distinctly remember a song about him in the comedy show “Who Dares Wins” which had the chorus “That’s what being British is – we love you if you’re crap”.

I wonder if I can get that on DVD anywhere?  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was surprisingly captivating…

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