Month: March 2026

Sunday, 8th March, 2026

Quite cold out there and misty this morning. It’s going to be another day in the Gym. I’ve torn a muscle in my back so I’m taking forever to get going and really look like an old man when I’m walking. I hate it. It makes me feel so decrepit. My wife says I should rest but I can’t miss my targets. I would never sleep if I did.

They say a picture tells a thousand words and regular readers of the Blog will know that I have been gradually transitioning that way in my writing. An old friend, Dave Weatherley, who I haven’t seen since 1972 and who lives in Bolton shared this photo with me of one of his walks. Anyway, I will be going up there soon and hope to meet up with him to cross the 54 year time divide.

It is Springtime in Greece as the weather starts to warm up for the Summer to come. Winter rains have carpeted the countryside with greenery and wild flowers are starting to paint the landcape. This photo from the olive groves of Naxos was posted yesterday. It took me back immediately to our annual arrival at our Greek home usually in March and the smells, sounds and colours of our island. These photos also took me back 43 years when we stayed on Naxos for a few weeks in 1983. I could just go back and touch it right now.

That is what the past does to me – make me want to go back and touch it just one more time. And I will. This gorgeous and unexpected view across a field of Flax on a sunny day in Coquelles while away on a wine buying trip would always draw me back. Wouldn’t it you, Dear Reader? I have already arranged two more trips in the next few months to enjoy the heady scent and pastel view that I once saw before.

Monday, 9th March, 2026

A dull and misty morning. The mists of time swirl everywhere. A marketing website came up for a smart property by the river in West London. I looked through it with a semi-casual eye. I looked at the map and realised how close it was to being in the London Borough of Ealing and my heart shrank and splintered.

It was just 54 years ago at the end of April that I went for a job interview for a post as an English teacher. For sad reasons in retrospect, I turned it down and moved on to Oldham of all places. I have often wondered how life would have been different if I’d taken the job. Even in those days, I knew property ownership was the way to go and a purchase then would certainly have accumulated massively over the years. I would almost certainly have lived a more cosmopolitan life if I’d worked there.

Back in the mists of time, my little sister was a fairly quiet and tubby little girl in the background of my life. She grew into a lovely and determined lady who takes her fitness very seriously. She is 71 today and we wish her a very happy birthday. So much water has flowed under the bridge and the yellow fog that rubs its back upon the windowpanes where only through time time is conquered.

Well, it was back at the start of February that I began to write about and warn about potential World War and I don’t like to say I told you so but … I told you so. Who knows what the lunatics of the ‘alt-right’ -influenced White House will do next. Starmer is absolutely correct in not following them but we will suffer anyway. Gas and oil prices are soaring, share prices and pension investments are crashing. This will only serve to fracture international relations and increase the cost of living across the world.

In these situations, there is always a temptation to run away. To escape. This morning I heard the suggestion that curling up with a good book is a popular response to the chaos outside. I just can’t do that.

As I’ve written before, I haven’t read a book for pure escapism since I was in Primary School. For me, books are for facts and education, for theories and developing understanding, for philosophies and self improvement. Pleasure doesn’t come in to it.

My pleasure doesn’t come through escape but through facing, analysing and understanding reality and my place in it. It still means hours and hours of reading but not tucked up in the womb-like warmth of my bed, allowing myself to float off into imagination. I really haven’t been able to do that since early childhood. What it means is that I virtually never read a book from cover to cover these days but dip in to search for evidence and answers.

It is a male trait. Some can’t read. Some don’t read books at all. Those who do read tend to favour non-fiction. I favour books which do rather than books which are. I want a book to do something to make me a better person not help me escape from myself. My recommendation for a good read would be an autobiographical work from 1914 – The Ragged-Trousered Philanthropists by Robert Tressell with a foreword by my hero, Tony Benn.

Tuesday, 10th March, 2026

On this grey and misty morning, I’ve been looking at the life of an ancestor. She was, in a child’s mind, a rather a fierce and scary old lady. She was known as Auntie Kessie but she was actually our Great Aunt as the sister of my Grandfather. She was born in Repton in April 1887 so almost exactly 64 years before me. She died in 1962 when she was 75 and I was 11 and about to go to Grammar School. She was born Kate Anne Kesterton Sanders but was always known as Kessie to me.

By the time I knew Auntie Kessie she was retired and living with a Companion. I didn’t really understand that at the time but I can assure you, it wasn’t a euphemism. Unlike the faint-hearted ‘ladies’ of her generation, Kessie had a fierce intellect and determination to achieve. In 1905, she applied for Teacher Training at a college in the city of Lincoln.

Like so many colleges, it is now a University. Bishop Grosseteste Ladies Teacher Training College is now a Lincoln Dioscesan University.

At that time, teaching was regarded very much as a vocation. Training colleges were entirely single sex. There were to be no distractions! Most women teachers remained spinsters all their lives, and they certainly could not remain in post and marry.

Kessie’s first teaching post was in Manchester of all places teaching poor kids. In 1908, she was appointed as an assistant elementary school mistress at St Andrew’s School, Ancoats in Manchester. For a middle class girl from a small, rural Derbyshire village, it must have been a hell of a culture shock. I found a picture of a class of kids at that exact school in 1920 by which time Kessie would have moved on but she won’t have met many streetwise, little people from incredibly poor homes and parents who worked in the local mills.

By 1913, Kessie had moved back home to teach in Burton and then in Derbyshire where she became a headteacher of a village school where she remained for 20 years and retired in 1947.

Kessie never married and did what many Victorian era women did, she retired to her home alone and took in a companion. A lady’s companion was a respectable, often impoverished woman employed by a wealthy lady to provide company, emotional support, and chaperonage. Unlike servants, they were considered social equals or gentlewomen who acted as confidantes, chaperones for outings, and assistants with light tasks. 

Kessie and her companion made evil tasting elderberry wines and real dandelion & burdock drinks which were kept on the thrall in the pantry. They maintained a huge garden looking lovely but, as people, they were largely invisible to me on a daily basis.

I remember being taken into Kessie’s house when she died in 1962 and being asked if there was something I would like to remember her by. It was a scarily Victorian interior and as an 11 year old boy, there was absolutely nothing of that I wanted. I remember thinking, why would I want to remember that stern, old lady? I rather regret that now. I am told that relatives clearing the house found what they considered an engagement ring in a draw. Had Kessie sacrificed love for her profession? Sadly, nobody will ever know.

Because I failed to get the A Level results I wanted, I didn’t get in to Newcastle University to do an English Degree and I didn’t get to enjoy any of the gorgeous girls I met there on interview. Such is my luck. They say you make your own luck and it was my fault. I didn’t apply myself enough. At the last minute, I found a Teacher Training College who were desperate to attract male students to train as English teachers because the Department of Education had instructed them to increase their male intake.

Ripon College was reasonably far enough away from home and it meant not thinking about a job for a few years so I went for it. I think I had been told I wanted to be a teacher from a young age although, as the time came closer, I was being told I would never be wealthy in that profession so I ought to consider land and property – maybe as a Quantity Surveyor, a Land Agent, or something which carried rural cachet.

The College building was opened in September 1862 as 32 students moved to the new Ripon College.  The building was described as ‘the Italian style of architecture which has a centre, three floors in height and two wings. It affords accommodation with separate bedrooms, for sixty students besides apartments for the Lady Superintendent, the governesses and the servants; and includes a large dining room, a  lecture room, a committee room and classrooms.

What I found there was a fascinating transition of cultures and times. The College had been right up to this point an all female ‘Anglican Ladies Training College’ since 1846. I was one of the first ever 24 men to arrive there. The touches of the old, feminine past continued for a while. Fresh cut flowers were brought into the Common Room each morning. Mixed Sex activities were strictly regulated. No men in women’s rooms after 10.00 pm was a rule. Decorum was still expected. My friend, Kevin and I were reprimanded by the Principal – a fierce looking Miss Gage (another spinster) – for singing in the corridor outside her office.

I had been brought up a Catholic male and I found myself in an Anglican female atmosphere but even more noticeable was the brusk transition from the genteel and staid culture of Kessie’s era to the thrusting, white hot technology of Wilson and the Europeanism of Heath and Roy Jenkins, of the lifstyles of the Beatles and Rolling Stones, of liberal moral values and the prominence of youth, of drugs and birth control. It was a swift and decisive transition which brought casualties on both sides. Of course, I went on to teach, like Kessie, in Greater Manchester and I can tell you it was just as much a culture shock for me as it was for her.

Wednesday, 11th March, 2026

This morning, Easyjet have contacted me to say that 3 of our flights have had some adjustments. They inform me through the app on my phone/iPad. In this case 2 of the flights have had timings changed and the third has a changed aircraft which could affect the seats I’ve booked. It’s one of the risks of booking early.

Our international travel has evolved over the years to the point where I feel it is quite slick and relaxed these days. After all, travelling should be a joy not a chore. Currently. I have 8 flights booked between now and December and they are all with Easyjet. We have been using them since 1998 when we were on there first flight from Athens to Luton. Our flight on the 8^th of August 1998 one way from Athens cost £198.83. Quite expensive at the time.

Our first Athens flight in 1981 and many in the following decade were on very cheap and cheerful charter airlines flying in utterly anti-social timeslots so we could reduce the cost.

We were young and keen and prepared to accept hardships in order to get what we wanted. Flying through the night. Arriving in Athens at 4.00 in the morning. Taking the night bus down to Piraeus. Snatching an hour’s sleep on a bench at port side and being woken up being licked by a stray dog before dashing onto the first ferry for a 5 hour trip to the island. Travelling cattle class. It was all part of the fun.

As we became more affluent and thought we deserved more esteem, we moved on to British Airways flights and then Olympic Airlines both of which were much more expensive but also more comfortable. In August 1998, we ditched our booked flight and had to buy an emergency one from Athens to UK. A back street agency offered us a flight with a new airline called Easyjet started by a young Greek called Stelios Haji-Ioannou. We took it and the rest is history. We have been flying Easyjet in Europe ever since. Still B.A. to cross the Atlantic but not short haul.

We fly the best that Easyjet can offer which currently is Easyjet Plus with fast track, extra leg room and instead of taking huge bags for the Plane Hold, we get to carry on 2 bags each and choose properties where we can wash and iron so need to carry minimal clothes. We have the luxury of Executive Lounges to cushion the pressures of cattle class. We transfer by taxi rather than night buses now. We are lucky. Life is better.

THe skies have cleared and the sun has come out. Inspite of my bad back, I’m going out for a walk. It is so warm, I’m going to have to move back into shorts and teeshirts now. As I walk, I will be able to contemplate my new Council Tax bill which has just fallen on the mat. I don’t know how it compares with others but I am now paying £3,612.81 a year. Even so, I am getting excellent services for that.

Thursday, 12th March, 2026

It is time for a new mattress. They say you should change it every 8 years and that the average person spends one-third of their life sleeping. I spend less than that but it still must be one quarter. Ours is 10 years old. I have a bad back so I’m looking at every cause. Sleeping posture could be one. I don’t sleep well anyway. I have to have a ‘firm’ (rock hard) mattress. I also prefer a cool bed not a hot one. I am looking at firm, kingsize pocket sprung mattresses. I’m not bothered about the cost. It will probably last until we are 85 years old if we’re still here so we need a really good one.

I could buy a new mattress for under £500.00 but it is possible to spend 5 x that amount to get something luxurious. It’s not that easy these days. Which is the best construction? The cheapest are the old fashioned Open Spring Mattresses but they have been superseded by  Pocket Spring, Memory Foam and a Hybrid Mattress which combines the two. In the past we chose by manufacturer reputation.

Seeley is a longstanding, quality producer. We have bought those before but they are quite expensive. This is one of their best offerings currently and I have been seriously considering it. Seeley products can be seen in High Street outlets but, as people say, the old method of trying something out in the shop by laying on it for a couple of minutes is not a good way of deciding. Seeley offer a 10 yr warranty and a 40 day return for another type if you’re not happy. Should I go for that?

Well, I was close to going out to do just that although I had seen another, much cheaper mattress which looked interesting by a new, young company called Origin who are winning lots of awards.

The problem appeared to be that they only sell online. You can’t try them out in the shop. Then, a few days ago, Channel 5 ran a show all about modern mattresses. They reviewed more than I knew existed. They settled on the ultimate mattress accoring to their panel and it was Origin Hybrid Pro. What appears to be very persuasive is that they offer a 15 year warranty plus free use of the mattress at home for 200 weeks during which time they will take it back and provide a full refund. I think I’m moving towards a conclusion although my companion may push me through a few more checks first.

And then I was told to look at this. I thought I’d arrived and I hate indecision. There are only so mattresses one can consider, Dear Reader. Help! I’ve got to do something. My back is killing me. I’m hobbling painfully everywhere. I think I’m dying!

Friday, 13th March, 2026

Well, Dear Reader, it has arrived. Not a day to take risks. Going for a Facial or having your Hair done is definitely risky today. You could end up bald or orange!

Even choosing a mattress may be a step too far. Unfortunately, my lower back pain is worse today. Movement is agony at least before I’m warmed up. I have Google-diagnosed the problem and it is almost certainly Sciatica. I had it once before while we were living in Greece and it was agony for weeks.

I’ve got to get on with finding a new mattress and that’s what I’m doing today. It’s quite cool out there this morning – just 9C/48F with a sharp breeze. Doesn’t feel like Spring out there at all today. Not good for bad backs.

Been to town to see some bed shops. Went in Dreams where they used all the latest tech. They got us laying on a test mattress and gradually adjusting it electronically until an appropriate standard was reached. It looked ‘scientific’ but I was more confused when I left than when I arrived.

We went on to Sussex Beds where a knowledgeable young assistant walked us through our preferences, left us to try out our choices and we all but chose on the spot. Back home we have decided to order. With two Mattress Protectors, two Gell Pillows, Delivery and Removal of the old mattress, the price will be almost £2,000.00. Spread over the next 10 years to the age of 85, that is an acceptable outlay.

Saturday, 14th March, 2026

Almost the middle of March already. On this most beautiful of mornings, I could barely walk to the car. My sciatica is agony. Clear blue sky with gorgeously strong sunshine, I drove down the beach to see the Prom. Run. So many fit, young bodies and here was I – a cripple in a car.

The one exercise I’ve found possible and helpful is cycling. Fortunately, I have a lumbar support bike in my Gym. Yesterday I spent 2 hrs on it. After shuffling from the house to the Gym, I was able to walk back reasonably normally having done 2 hrs loosening up on the bike. Unfortunately, after sitting down, everything siezes up and I am back to square 1. I will try again today. Instead of passively watching sport, I will cycle while I watch and hope to see the benefit. I am nothing if not optimistic.

All my life, I have been introspective. It is a curse and a blessing. I know, it really annoys some people which suggests there are swathes of others who would rather not know themselves in any depth at all. That is a concept I can hardly imagine. I don’t know how one functions without considering why you are doing something and setting targets for success & failure.

Introspection derives from Latin introspicere, to look within and refers to the process of observing and examining your own conscious thoughts or emotions. Surely it is a basic distinction between humans and animals that we consider our actions and don’t just act on instinct. It is the mind/body dualism that was the method of primary importance to many philosophers—including Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, George Berkeley, David Hume,  John Stuart Mill.

This process was first analysed in the 1860s by Wilhelm Wundt, a German philosopher considered one of the fathers of modern psychology. He moved the study from the art of Philosophy into the science of Psychology as an analytical tool.

Self reflection is practiced daily through meditation, self-reflection, or by asking guided questions about personal goals, feelings, and values. Mind you, it can be really annoying. It can be very painful, embarrassing and confidence destroying.

This morning, I was listening to an analysis of Keir Starmer and the observation that, at his core, he doesn’t have many long held beliefs unlike many other politicians. He doesn’t seem to have a long thought out agenda based on well established personal principles. What he does have is massive self-belief and determination to win at all costs. I, on the other hand, have massive determination to win at all costs but little self-belief. That’s why he is prime minister and I’m not.

Sunday, 8th March, 2026

Happy March, Dear Reader. The Spring is here. The days are getting longer and the temperature much warmer. Reasons to be optimistic.

Unfortunately, it is raining …. again. Well it is St. David’s Day celebrating Wet Wales. I am going to be in the Gym but first there is Office work to do. Regular readers will know I record our Home Power use on the first of each new month. I have done it in all our homes over the years but the spreadsheet just records a decade of monthly readings here. It has certainly been a cheap Winter for Gas & Electricity this year. Our power usage has been the lowest of the past 10 years which speaks volumes about the warm winter and Global Warning. (What am I saying?)

I’ve just finished the notes of our booked times away this year and it amounts to 77 days at the moment. I have to share them with neighbours who are so supportive and helpful. With 11 weeks (and possibly more to come), we will need their support just as we do for them. We were woken by a Whatsapp call last night from neighbours currently away skiiing in Bulgaria and worried about something at home. Well, 5.00 am wasn’t the best time but we laughed about it and sorted them out to relax and enjoy their holiday.

We will be driving to France this month and again in May. Our first flight of 8 currently booked is to Thessaloniki in the first week of June. I know this will sound very shallow but we have to hope that the current situation in the Middle East is concluded and doesn’t pose a threat to international flights. I’ll never forget flying London to Athens for Easter 1999 with the flight being routed down the Adriatic while the Kosovo war was raging and looking out of the plane window to see rockets flying through the sky and exploding in the distance when they met land. It was a scary time.

This one could be more scary with Trump instigating it. He got elected on a platform of withdrawing from Foreign Interventionism and concentrating on America First. It was popular with his ill educated base.

Having got elected, he has done quite the reverse. With interventions all round the world and doing things he criticised his opponents for. It is not the Balkans although we must remember the Ukrainian invasion continues. Already, there has been an attack on Cyprus by Iranian rockets which will put the skids under European bookings and flights. Airlines could become very nervous as could insurers. Oil prices and air flight costs could soar. Our last major travelling year was blighted by Covid. This time, it could be war.

Monday, 2nd March, 2026

Glorious morning with a glorious week ahead. Spring is here. It is warm and sunny and at last the Labour Party is starting a Spring Offensive. Why have they waited so long? The deluge of merde that Far Right racists have been raining down on social media is finally being replied to by the Party machine and by its supporters. These two amusing ones stood out this morning. Probably the literary allusion in the first will go over Reform voters’ heads but the second is much more their level.

We have to grasp at every harbinger of optimism. The Spring is here. The clocks go forward in less than three weeks. Soon the Summer will be upon us. And Man. Utd. won again yesterday.

Went down to the beach this morning to enjoy the sunshine and the air. It was wonderful. The light, the sounds and the smell really lift the spirits.

We even saw small boats full of passengers but not happy to arrive on the beach. Ours were full of fish fresh for the kitchen. With the world currently on fire, our happy, beachside enclave seems so calm and peaceful. Today we are seeing 17C/63F and it feels delicious. Can’t wait for the fire of Greece and Spain in the next few months.

Tuesday, 3rd March, 2026

Another lovely day of blue sky and sunshine. Brilliant and almost full moon over night meant it was a bit chilly but not seriously so. Anyway, the day looks hopeful even though it didn’t start well.

Regular readers will know that I invested £18,000.00 in Government Bonds 6 months ago and have won a prize every month in the first 5 months. In fact I have won 8 prizes since October. I have been expecting a pause and I wasn’t surprised to see this screen when I logged on this morning although I must admit I was disappointed particularly when I saw an investor from West Yorkshire with a smaller investment from the same start as me had won £100,000.00. That would have made all the difference.

Out walking early this morning and the temperature has already risen to 18C/65F but with strong sun it feels warmer. The world and its dog is out soaking up the Vitamin D which is essential for bone health and the immune function. Walking is a great time for thinking and planning. Today it is financial planning as we move into the month before the new Tax Year. It will be a time for buying ISA wrappers to shelter for tax. It means finding £40,000.00 for 2 ISAs which involves moving money around. Great fun. I love it.

Recent events, however, illustrate why people of my age should not put much money in the share market unless they can afford to lose it. Just takes an event like Iran who have the ability to close oil & LPG traffic sea routes and oil/LPG refineries to throw the world economy into a tailspin with no obvious positive exit. Might seem boring to some but boring is good for me.

Isn’t it interesting that as the calendar switches to Springtime so does the weather. Almost as if the weather knew the date. My mind is turning to the garden and to seeds and plants. I take on the care and planting of the public spaces of our street because I can and it gives me something energetic to do outside. I fund it because I can and because it is a contribution to the others around me. I know I will get their support when I really need it.

This year I’m going to buy pre-germinated seed plugs to pot up and grow on in my cold frames. The whole street will be planted up with 350 and there will be some left for the back garden as well. Looking forward to it.

Wednesday, 4th March, 2026

The wonderful weather continues. Out early in the sunshine. It is time to switch back to shorts and tee shirts until December. Last night we had the delights of the Blood Moon on the South Coast. This is someone else’s shot off Selsey set against the Rampion Windfarm.

It is a time for enjoying the simple delights of the day but the noises off at the moment are just too loud to ignore. Filled up the car yesterday. By the afternoon, petrol had increased by 2p per litre and there were queues at the pumps. The opportunities for instability are legion.

Iran is under attack and doesn’t have the fire power to sustain a long term fight back but it does have strategic plans. Unable to bomb America, it is bombing them by proxy in the military bases in the Gulf States. The world in general and Europe in particular relies heavily on the internation trade in vital commodities. Oil, Liquid Gas and Fertiliser are all essential to daily life. Iran controls the northern side of the Strait of Hormuz, a passage which sees significant global trade pass through daily including 20% of our supplies of oil and gas and significant amounts of essential fertilisers.

As a result, oil prices immediately rise and very soon will raise the cost of manufacturing and transport distribution. That will quickly feed into prices and inflation. And Iran doesn’t need to physically block the Strait of Hormuz. All shipping is hugely valuable and heavily insured. Iran has only had to fire on one tanker in the stait and insurance cost shoot through the roof. The cost of hiring a tanker to move your oil around the world has doubled over night and even then, it could lead to an unacceptable loss of life. The Strait of Hormuz is effectively closed and the price of petrol at the pumps on the South Coast of England goes up.

Part of me is excited by the changing world but most of me thinks stop the world and let me get off. This morning I was sent a photo of a small fishing village on a remote Greek island that I know so well. Two, wonderful Ψαροταβέρνες – fish tavernas – where I’ve lunched in the past seem a very enticing escape right now.

Thursday, 5th March, 2026

And the beat goes on …. How beautiful the moon was last night and how light it was at 4.00 am this morning. The days are lengthening at speed. This morning, warm strong sunshine is beaming across the back garden and through the kitchen windows. Soon we will be drinking coffee outside again.

Planning work in the garden today. The raised beds have to be forked over and refreshed with some new compost topping. I have been using Wickes for this over recent years and I will do again although I don’t need huge, industrial sized bags these days. I’m going to need about 2 dozen bags at just £15.00 for 3. I think I will have them delivered rather than make 2 or 3 trips to collect myself. The whole thing will only cost me about £150.00 so not bad.

In this lovely warmth all the windows and doors are open this morning which is just as well because the kitchen stinks of fresh fish. I’ve had to drive down to the beach to buy fish – cod loin, sides of salmon, prawns – this morning and Chef is currently portioning it up for the freezer. I’m doing what I do – Tech work.

Recently, I used my contract with BT/EE to trade in our old phones and receive new ones completely free of charge. Well, I tie myself into a 2-yr contract but I would have done anyway. On the open market, these phones would each have cost me £1389.00 so £2778.00 in total. They are Samsung smartphones and it just so happened that Samsung had a promotion on at the time. They were offering completely free smart watches with each phone so I claimed two. They arrived yesterday. I have the job of setting them up and linking them to as well as sychronising them with our phones. Good fun in the challenge.

I woke early and listened to a podcast which argued that, almost counter intuitively, the spat between Starmer & Trump was basically good for Starmer because majority opinion in UK is anti Trump and anti any rush to support a Trump war. America has demonstrated that it is not a trustworthy ally despite the drum beat of our Right Wing press. If you read (look at the pictures) of the Daily Fail or the Daily Express, The Sun or The Telegraph, you would think that the whole country were Trump supporters. When you drill down into the reseach, just 16% support us going into his war with Iran. In fact, the leading article in The i-Paper features this interesting article today which explains the majority position.

Friday, 6th March, 2026

Nice, warm start to the day but we know rain is coming. Actually, I can see it is coming on a radar-video app on my computer. I can swoop on any area in the chartable world and see the weather patterns produced by satellite triangulation.

At 9.20 am this morning, it showed rain fleetingly passing over Manchester and coming up from France towards the South Coast.

If you let it run on and focus specifically where I am, you see that by 11.00 am, the rain is just about to hit my village and, as the video continues, the rain band also continues to cover the South Coast until 4.00 pm. You can focus this view right down to a single property on a single street. This app does so only in terms of weather movement.

Now it’s possible to view actual locations in real time by using a number of apps not least the new Real Time Google Maps or you could pay for use of the seriously scary spy software of the type that the Americans used to locate the Iranian Leadership before preceision bombing them.

Back on firm ground, this weekend will be a time for gardening and planning for the coming season. If you want to watch an old man in shorts plant out potatoes and onions – and why wouldn’t you? – then get yourself a piece of real time spy satellite software and I will give you the co-ordinates, Dear Reader.

We are going to be away from from home for at least 77 days this Summer/Autumn so the garden will largely have to look after itself. I can’t choose high maintenance plants this time although I will still have to grow a field of Basil. This morning I’ve been to a couple of large, local Garden Centres to buy Seed Potatoes and Onion Sets.

I also bought a couple of packs of lettuce seeds to sow successionally so we don’t get a glut at one time and risk them running to seed as they did last Autumn.

Saturday, 7th March, 2026

Quite dull and gloomy this morning and it looks like light levels will be poor for a few days to come. I will be spending them preparing the garden for better days to come. I have cold frames to start things off and some are done inside. I was looking at these starter trays with growth lights. I want them but my financial adviser says the company, Temu, can’t be trusted.

I think I have reasonable critical judgement over Fake News and Fake (AI generated) Photographs but I’m told that this Chinese Retailer is utterly unreliable. Except, I want them and, when I want something, I usually go for it. I mean, what can I lose other than a paltry £22.63. I’ll probably order it quietly anyway and just swallow my pride if it goes wrong.

While I’m following the seasonal patterns of preparing the garden for the Summer, preparing the finances for the new tax year and preparing arrangements for travel, my Housekeeper is doing what she does in her other role as Chef to the household. A fortnight ago it was making jam. During the week, it was baking 5 loaves of brown bread and 3 white. She gets her yeast free from Tesco’s Bakery Section. They are lovely people. She asks to buy some yeast. They go away and cut a huge chunk off their store and never charge her. Yesterday, it was portioning fish up for the next couple of weeks. Today, it is making Beetroot Chutney. I love it.

The mixture of chopped onion, beetroot, apple and fresh ginger with sugar and vinegar is cooked outside on the garden hob because the smell is all-pervasive. Let’s hope the neighbours like it.

Sunday, 22nd February, 2026

These days, I tend to go to bed before midnight but wake before 5.00 am. I have never slept particularly long. It has always seemed a waste of time. We only have so much time in our lives and to spend 30% of it comatose in darkness seems excessive although it has always fascinated me that all humans go into a darkened room and suspend consciousness every day. Throughout my working life, I never managed more than about 6 hrs a night which the NHS recommendations suggest isn’t enough although that has been challenged recently.

NHS Recommended Sleep Duration by Age 

• Newborns (0–3 months): 14–17 hours
• Infants (4–12 months): 12–16 hours (including naps)
• Toddlers (1–2 years): 11–14 hours (including naps)
• Preschool (3–5 years): 10–13 hours (including naps)
• School age (6–12 years): 9–12 hours
• Teenagers (13–18 years): 8–10 hours
• Adults (18+): 7–9 hours 

As a child, I was forced to spend a lot longer in bed than I would choose myself. Let loose, I found I was not an owl or a lark but bird of both. I love early mornings and I love late nights. It’s the middle bit that gets me.

We are told that we need sleep for optimal physical health, mental restoration, and cognitive function. Sleep is essential for immune system support, tissue repair, and hormone regulation. Chronic sleep deprivation increases risks for heart disease, diabetes.

You have gone through life in sleep,
Never woken to the nightmare.
I tell you, life would be unendurable
If you were wide awake.

 T. S. Eliot’s The Family Reunion

People do report going to sleep with a problem in their head and waking up with the solution and I have known that. Unfortunately, the unsolved problem can often delay sleep altogether. Older adults often sleep less or have more disrupted sleep due to aging but you only have to visit a Care Home and particularly one for Dementia and you will see residents asleep for long periods in chairs around the Lounge.

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

When You Are Old by William Butler Yeats

We should all be resisting the gradual drift into inaction and revery. Nodding by the fire is my nightmare. I regularly cite my friend, John Ridley, when I talk to people about this. He is constantly active and contributing to the world be it in terms of Education and Culture as well as personal travel. As he takes his next guided tour of Fountains Abbey I am so admiring of his energy and commitment.

Monday, 23rd February, 2026

Anyone who follows/observes the religious calendar will know that Lent has begun. In our childhood home, we were forced to give up sweets and biscuits for the period of 40 days. Looking back it feels absolutely archaic, medieval even. Like eating fish on Fridays which we also did, it was out of an age of ghosts and witches, of superstition and religiosity as rules of life. If these sort of things were espoused outside the wrapper of formal region, they would be considered certifiable.

Catholic Easter is April 5th this year. Orthodox Easter is a week later. The beginning of Lent here was last Wednesday – marked by Ash Wednesday – and you couldn’t get much more of a medieval ceremony that that. Palm leaves said to be paving the way of Jesus are burned in a crucible in the church and the ashes are smeared on celebrants foreheads accompanied by the words:

Repent, and believe in the Gospel.
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

Well you would if you had no critical judgement, wouldn’t you. It was/is all part of the social control structure. It happened to me before I had freedom of control and underlined why I should reject such nonsense.

In Greece, today is Kathara Deftera, or Clean Monday – the beginning of Lent among Orthodox Christians. It is the day Greeks fly kites as symbols of the Resurrection and go on picnics outdoors. The holiday is also the unofficial start of spring for Greeks.

Lent is a period of cleansing, of self-flagellation, of repentance evidenced by self-denial. Greeks give up meat, dairy and olive oil as well as alcohol. Squid, Octopus and shellfish can be eaten. Wine and oil are permitted at weekends. (Phew!) Mind you, even though I love octopus salad, I couldn’t live on it for 40 days. You only have to begin to examine these traditions to realise they are utterly mad like believing the earth is flat, the moon is made of cheese or there is a god in the sky. They are all of a pre-enlightenment, pre-scientific, pre-industrialised age.

Once you free yourself of these shackles and live life, self discipline is important and more meaningful. I rarely eat meat other than chicken. I eat oceans of fish and fields of vegetables. I impose weeks of abstinence from alcohol on myself but I do it for a purpose at my own direction not because of some shayman with incense burners and bottles of holy water. I am responsible for and in charge of my own condition. And that is as it should be.

My spiritual celebration this morning was a walk on the beach in lovely mild weather. The rocks, the sand, the sea and the sky join forces to celebrate being alive. It is all I need … for now.

Tuesday, 24th February, 2026

A day that is so warm it is going to make us think of Spring and the fertility to come. A friend of mine in North Yorkshire is already germinating seeds for her harvests to come in the Summer. It is the time of ancient Lupercalia – Roman pastoral festival held annually to promote health, purification, and fertility. Centered on Palatine Hill, rituals involved animal sacrifice by the Luperci priests, who then ran through the city striking women with februa (goat-skin thongs) to bless them with fertility. A bit kinky, I know, but could be fun.

This woman’s as from death’s touch: a surviving
Barrenness: she abides; perfect,
But flung from the wheel of the living,
The past killed in her, the future plucked out.

Ted Hughes – Lupercalia – 1960

Elsewhere in Europe, peasants reportedly participated in sexual rites on freshly ploughed fields to stimulate plant growth. That sounds more like it. Anyway, you get the drift. Things come and go. Are in and out. Fade and are renewed with the seasons.

Nothing stays the same for ever. Life is constant flux. Sometimes it is abrupt and we struggle with the fracture. Sometimes it is so gradual that we hardly notice it. Like boiling a frog. If you throw one into boiling water, it screams and tries to leap out. If you place it in cold water and gradually bring the temperature up, the frog dies before it realises.

Ten yeas ago, we were within a month of moving in to this house and we had come down to check on progress of the build. My Housekeeper had chosen a continuous glass splashback surround for the kitchen and we were keen to monitor it. We had no furniture and were busily researching and ordering everything for every room.

Ten years on, it is a thriving hub of the house. Most things happen here. In fact, I was thinking last night that this house has 12 rooms and I rarely visit half of them.

These ten years have seen so much change. When we moved in, the builders had not installed fibre cabling even though I begged them and BT to do it. We still have the old BT sockets on the wall. We no longer have a landline either but the old sockets are still on the wall. The security – burglar alarm and smoke alarms have all been changed but we still have the old boxes on the wall. I must do something about that before we begin to look like a 20th century museum. You remember when piping snaked openly around walls before being hidden behind plasterboard? These are the equivalent tell-tale signs.

Wednesday, 25th February, 2026

Well, we’ve moved on through Spring to Summer in a day. It is absolutely wonderful with strong, hot sunshine. I was writing about Greek Spring on Monday. It is lovely to see a girl of Greek origin standing for Labour in the Manchester byelection tomorrow. Manchester councillor, Angeliki Stogia is the Labour Party candidate and we wish her well.

It is good to see the Labour family uniting to fight for equality and fairness. They have a strong challenge from the radical Greens and the racist Reform party. It is in all our interests to keep the racists out. Of course, Byelections are popular times for giving the current government a kicking. I’ve read social media suggestions that it would be a good time to attack the elites. You often get this sort of belief from people who have looked no further than populist leaflets.

If you want to kick the Elites, don’t vote Reform. Just get the facts. Do your research. Find out who you are really voting for.

Reform are flooded with privilege and failed Tory MPs. They are Brexiteers who have brought UK plc to its knees and now disown their crimes.

Just had the car valeted. £30.00 to get it looking shiny and new. It is 17 months old and has covered just 6,000 miles. At this rate, I may be forced to keep it for 3 years this time. Going out to do a long walk in the sunshine and pretend it really is summer.

Thursday, 26th February, 2026

The big news this morning – a change to rubbish collection and delivery of new bins from the Local Authority. It doesn’t get much bigger than that. Our existing collection schedule has General Waste and Garden Waste collected every week with Recycle every two weeks. Now, General Waste and Recycle will alternate but a new, Food Waste will go out weekly as well as Garden Waste. Hope you’re keeping up, Dear Reader. I will because I have updated my on-line calendar which Alexa reads to me. This really is the high life.

Actually, we feel very well served with lots of collections by fanatstic people. We already use a separate food waste bin fixed to our general waste bin so it really won’t trouble us at all. I know it’s going on all over the country so it will soon become part of the national culture.

I’ve got a wine delivery today. In the 1950s/60s the ‘Pop Man’ delivered to homes and adults very occasionally indulged in an expensive bottle of Riesling which they were teaching their palates to like. I have loved wine since student days. From early in the 1970s I was drinking wine bought from supermarkets with my evening meal. By the 1980s. I was travelling to France to buy wine and just stopped buying here at all.

When I could drive to France but before the Tunnel opened, I would drive to Hull Docks and take a P&O ferry overnight to Zeebrugge and then drive down to Calais, fill the car with 150 bottles of wine and take the return ferry over night to Hull. I would do that trip twice a year but in the 1990s I started driving to Greece and back so that would be an additional opportunity to stock up on Italian as well as French wine.

Brexit is what ruined the fun. Instead of unlimited purchases, I was restricted to 48 bottles of still wine (for 2 people) plus 18 bottles of sparkling wine. It remains an enjoyable experience but only marginally cheaper than buying in UK if you factor in the travel. I’ve got wine buying trips to France booked for March and May but I’m even buying from a UK Warehouse as well at the moment. So, 36 bottles of wine will arrive today to tide me over until we go abroad. Anyway, I don’t really drink now.

Friday, 27th February, 2026

A fairly miserable start to the day. Grey and damp both meteorologically and politically. The only crumb of comfort is that the Racist Party have been kept out and the Tories lost their Deposit. You do feel, however, that Andy Burnham would have made it. It is easy to pass it off as a mid-term byelection which traditionally are difficult for the incumbent government and cite cases like George Galloway winning in Rochdale to be swiftly replaced by the excellent Labour MP, Paul Waugh, at the General Election but that might be brushing problems under the carpet. May will be the deciding time.

Great line from the Green Party this morning: We threw the kitchen sink at it and elected .. a plumber. The Green candidate was a blonde who works as a plumber in the local area.

While she was celebrating her win with a bottle of vegan champagne today, I was unpacking and racking my wine delivery. It’s great fun unpacking these wines because you never know exactly what you are going to get. I’m just featuring 3 here of the 36 that arrived. From left to right, they are a Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon, a Chilean Sauvignon Blanc and a Chilean Merlot. It’s exciting. I’ve drunk lots of wines from Chile before and they are lovely but I haven’t tried these and my normal choices are more traditional areas like Bordeaux, Tuscany and Veneto although recently, I have also been enjoying Rioja and Tempranillo from Spain.

I am going to Spain and France but I really want a visit to Bordeaux if only for a few days. I’ve still got about 15 days left out of this six months so it is possible and the flights are cheap and frequent. Going to have to stop talking about it and get booking.

Saturday, 28th February, 2026

February is dying. It is on its last legs. It will not leap again this year. Shouting at it to remain, stay with me, is to no effect at all. This morning, at 5.00 am, I was listening to a political podcast discussing the potential end of the monarchy in UK and Charles was referred to as an old, ill man. It shocked me. Charles is 77 just 2 years older than me. Am I an old man?

And then the death of Neil Sedaka was announced at the age of 86. Oh, that’s quite a good age my brain automatically reflected until I thought, that gives me 11 years! It is shocking. Then I asked myself, when would I actually say it was acceptable and reasonable to die. Of course the goal posts change completely with age. As they say, breaking up is hard to do. It’s the leaving that is so cruel.

The problem with time is it’s gradualism. The process is imperceptible although the effects are all too obvious. Rather like a plant growing. We don’t see the process in real time but the results are only too obvious as it buds and flowers. Do you know, it is 6 years since the outbreak of Covid and we ended our David Lloyd membership. It is 5 years since we all had our first Covid vaccination. I’ve still got my card as a memory.

In a month, it will be 17 years since we retired from Education. The memories may still be stark even though the corridors no longer exist. And when the memories disappear in the mists of time, I have my Blog.

Having done a walk through the fields of daffodils in lovely, warm sunshine this morning, I am now going to spend the afternoon in the Gym which is coming up to 6 years old. Unbelievable, Dear Reader. My Housekeepeer is continuing on her House Inspection and Maintenance Programme as we complete a decade here. Currently, there is very little to do. Next will be the waking up of the garden, patio cleaning and seed sowing.

This morning we received our 120th free copy of the village magazine which is really useful for contacting local trades people to help us. As the houses and resident population increase so do the number of workers to service them. It is all too easy if you’ve got the money. Bit shocked to hear this morning that the average monthly rental for a property across the country was £1000.00 and on the South Coast in Brighton you can expect to pay £2,200.00 per month. No wonder people can’t save for a deposit.