Sanders Blog

Sunday, 11th January, 2026

Bloody Sunday! Don’t you just hate them. Silent as the grave. Dull and grey but mild. Boring. Let’s get on with the world again even though it’s a nightmare at the moment.

The world is on fire. The old order is being challenged like it hasn’t been since World War 2. Instability is the order of the day and it doesn’t feel comfortable. I have lived my life, we have lived our lives, Dear Reader, under a long period of peace. Yes, we have seen off the Cold War, the ‘Troubles in Ireland’, al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden and they were significant in localised ways but Global Geopolitics have never been so fractious in my lifetime.

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The Second Coming – William Butler Yeats

The lines above were written by the Irish poet in the immediate aftermath of World War 1 and at the start of Irish War of Independence. His world was much smaller then. Today, the same feeling prevails but it is difficult to be optimistic about any part of the World.

• Iran and Israel compete for dominance of the Middle East with Lebanon, Syria, Gaza, and Yemen in the mix.
  
• Expansionist Russia currently seeks to regain Ukraine but has its sights set on the whole Baltic region and extends that in to EU Europe and out via Denmark to Greenland.
  
• China claims sovereignty over Tibet, Taiwan and Hong Kong based on historical precedence. It’s interest in Greenland is strategic.
  
• Geopolitics in South Asia is undergoing a sharp turn. India, Pakistan, Bangladesh tensions are constantly inflamed. Currently, Geopolitics in South Asia are undergoing a sharp turn. Bangladesh has increasingly viewed India as an adversary while leaning towards Pakistan, the very nation from which India helped liberate it in 1971.
  
• USA expands into South America, threatening Venezuela and into North America threatening Canada and into Europe threatening Denmark and Greenland. In The Middle East, it threatens Iran, Syria and Gaza.

I’m thinking of turning our Garage-cum-Gym into a drone-free bomb shelter. At least it’s got a year’s supply of red wine. I’m going out there to hide now anyway. Unfortunately, the Drama I am watching is centred on an America in the grips of its own self- aggrandisment. Art and Life are intimately intertwined, Dear Reader. Happy Sunday!

Monday, 12th January, 2026

A (relatively) warm, grey morning. Alexa defined my day at 6.00 am by announcing,

John, Today your calendar has one event. Black Bin to put out.

I have to admit, my heart sank a little. Does putting out the bin urge you to get up in the half light on a Monday morning, Dear Reader? It is only my determination and/or stupidity that forced me out into the day.

You have to see all things in perspective. When I was working, I longed for such days to be free to indulge myself. Now, it almost seems like a reproach for being old. I began to think about perspectives in life as I shaved. It is the pin pricks of time that help us see the relevance of the Now. Two, specific ones came to mind as I brushed my teeth. Yes, Dear Reader, I still have teeth. All the better to …. But then you know the children’s fable.

I have picked 1891 – just 60 years before I was born – and 1973 when I was 22 years old. There are many others but these two points explain to me at least who I am. I was born into a fairly insular, East Midlands village of Repton where my Grandfather and Father ran the family firm of Builders – Sanders & Son. I was the product of a strange union between an Atheist and a Roman Catholic; between a village boy and a city of London girl; between a fairly dour and unassuming architect and a pretentiously snobby, articulate artist.

Mum had quickly bought into the prestige of being in a long established village family of entrepreneurs with its extensive antecedents in the Methodist Chapel, Parish Council and Parochial entertainment. It was almost as if she felt grounded, established and complete. It was a union of which D.H.Lawrence would feel vindicated.

So, my first point of perspective is in my discovery of the Mill that brought my ancestors to Repton village when they bought and took over the mill in the mid-19^th century. By 1958, it was in ruins and deserted. It has always hidden in my memory but only made sense when I discovered the true extent of my family’s involvement in and contribution to the locality of my birth. I was amazed to find that my Great Grandparent’s gravestone was in the village graveyard at St Wystan’s church. My parents never mentioned them.

Richard, who had started a Carpentry & Coffin-making business and his wife, Anne, both lived to 70 years old, dying in 1891 & 1898 when my Grandfather took over the business and expanded the firm into a Building and Construction one. He built the house where I was born and referred to in this book – Repton Remembered as Nos. 81 and 83 in Repton Square.

So I was produced by a fairly monosyllabic East Midlander completely grounded in his locality and an articulate and Arty Southerner looking for establishment, acknowledgement and belonging. I have a lot of my father’s doggedness, determination and grit but even more of my Mother’s articulacy, creativity and self-awareness. Like my father, I eschewed Religion. Like my Mother I always wanted to express myself. Unlike my father, I was desperate to leave the confines of village life and move to the South of my mother.

I know this is a long – too long – post and that you will have left me long ago, Dear Reader, but for my sanity I will press on. From the first half you will easily see why the second has such relevance. In 1973, I met James Joyce and A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man. It was me! He was describing ME! I couldn’t believe it. I don’t read books. I never read books other than for study or for teaching. I was teaching Advanced Level English Literature for the first time and what should be prescribed for me but This.

I was feeling quite vulnerable, empty and lost at the time. I was beginning to write – poetry mainly – but this book describes Stephen Dedalus, a boy growing up in Ireland at the end of the nineteenth century, as he gradually decides to cast off all his social, familial, and religious constraints to live a life devoted to the art of writing. I had cast off my family, my pretence at religion, my social connections and was living in a hovel in a faded Northern mill town. My father was dead as was his. His mother despairs of him and his rejection of the Catholic faith just as mine did.

One of the defining characteristics of the novel’s rising action is the pattern of following a triumph or epiphany at the end of each chapter by a deflation of that success at the beginning of the next, and this structure models the way in which Stephen’s perspective adapts over time. Of course, Stephen’s surname was not chosen acidentally. Dedalus is Daedalus – the cocky boy who flew too close to the sun and crashed and burned. The story of my life I fear.

Tuesday, 13th January, 2026

A dark morning of heavy rain. It’s going to be an indoors day. I will be in the Gym for a couple of hours but first I’ve got jobs to do. Chef is busy in her domain making soup in the kitchen and I have some Office jobs. First I have to contact my new best friend, Clarisse from St Omer in France where she did an M.A. in Cinematography. Who is Clarisse and how did I meet her?

Well, we bought our kitchen bin from Simple Human. As bins go, it is quite pleasant and cost about £120.00. We bought one 4 years ago and the 2 year warranty was just up when the mechanism broke. I ordered another one and, guess what, after just over 2 years, the bin is not working. I could have rented the bin from them at £1.00 per week and still broken even. The problem is, I recently bought 2 more years supply of their bin bags to fit so I am going to have to buy another one. I thought Simple Human should help me with that so I wrote to them.

Goodness knows why but Clarisse works for their Customer Support Department. She wrote back to me asking for a video of the bin working. The above clip is a love letter to Clarisse. I tried to impress her with my expertise. You see how sad and bored I am.

I’m listening to Chopin again. Never a good sign, Dear Reader. It makes me moody and sad. This Nocturne OP.9 reflects the scene outside and will fill the void that is a wet Tuesday in January.

I’m doing really exciting things now. Contacting the Bowel Screening Programme to request new tests which cease automatically by age 74. They are due in May and I’m 75 in April. I will probably have to pay for a colonoscopy next year at the 3 year anniversary of my last one although I will put the squeeze on my Doctor for an NHS one.

I don’t know what you think about new cars at the moment. I want one every other week never mind every year. My current car, a Honda Self charge Hybrid, is 15 months old and has done a huge 5,000 miles. I had intended to buy a Plug-in Hybrid next time but the current climate is suggesting I should wait. I love my Honda. It is delightful to drive but in an idle moment I have found myself casting round for an alternative. I’m quite taken with the Mercedes GLC all electric.

What I have found is that there are a number of major car manufacturers who are on the brink of collapse and at the head of this group is Nissan which would prove a major headache for UK plc. They tried to get Honda to take them over but Honda found the business wasn’t viable and pulled back. It looks like the writing is on the wall.

To show you how bored I am today, I leave you with a mug shot. I never drink from mugs. We don’t have any in the house by command. I know I am odd but I love cups and saucers. I went through my whole teaching career using a cup and saucer while all around me had their mugs. I found this one quite funny though. You have to give it a minute before you ear it.

Wednesday, 14th January, 2026

The sun is up. The sky is blue. I’ve got a new bin coming too. My new girlfriend, Clarisse, was so impressed with my film that she is sending me a replacement bin immediately. That’s £120.00 saved. What a lovely girl! Actually, she told me the bin had a 10 yr Warranty so I can keep replacing them every two years forever. All it takes is a little bit of effort and a hint of friendliness

I’ve had to order some new ear buds for my iPad and phone. I lost my current ones I think in the airport. I’ve been trying to get on with headphones but they are just too clumsy and uncomfortable. I like the lightness and noise cancelling of in-the-ear buds so Amazon are sending me some today which is nice of them.

My wife copes with Chopin played at high volume from the Office but I need to keep it from people in hotels or on planes and blue tooth earbuds are the best for me. I’ve got 8 flights booked for this year already and passing the time by watching downloads from Netflix is proving really helpful. Earbuds will allow me to do that.

Had to go down to the fish supplier near the beach this morning and everywhere felt like Spring – warm, sunny, windless and joyful. I paid with my phone a bill of £220.00. I don’t even think about it anymore. I never carry cash or cards. I do everything digitally through my phone. High speed broadband is available everywhere now. Even the Fishermen’s shed has it and can process a digital payment.

I, for one, am disappointed that the Digital Identity Card is not going to be universally rolled out as announced today. It will come and it won’t be long. Life is becoming too complicated without it.

Thursday, 15th January, 2026

It is warm but dark and wet – very wet – this morning. You wouldn’t want to go out unless you had to. Unfortunately, I do. I have an appointment at the Sussex Eye Hospital.

I said before that I was born with the sight in my left eye so thoroughly impaired that I can’t see anything but strong light sources. I can’t see people, or anything other than hazy shapes. I certainly couldn’t read or write or watch TV, etc with just that eye. It meant that all through my youth there was a fear that my predeliction to play Rugby and fight a lot would result in my ‘good’ eye being damaged and I would be blind.

I’ve stopped playing Rugby and fight a lot less but I still worry as soon as I get grit in my eye because it temporarily impairs my vision and shows me what it would be like if things went wrong. I had a real panic about 25 years ago when I got up one morning, opened my newspaper (That takes you back.) and I couldn’t read the text. I was sent for an eye test which revealed that a blood vessel had burst in the back of my eye. Fortunately it self repaired over a few hours but I have been monitored twice a year since then.

My check in December was absolutely clear. Excellent eye sight in the chart reading test and no sign of Diabetic Rhetinopathy. However, having happily skipped out of the Hospital, I was disappointed to receive a letter informing me that, on closer analysis of the negatives, a change at the back of the eye had been identified and I would need to attend an Opthalmic Consultant’s clinic for further assessment. That’s where I’m going with some trepidation today. Wish me luck, Dear Reader.

At least they won’t be calling me up for the military as our next fighting force is prepared for World War III. A one-eyed geriatric? No chance.

Well, I am currently sipping a glass of champagne having come home from the Eye Hospital. It is a brand new facility that I was grateful to be seen in. I was met by a Chinese Nurse who put me through a full sight test. With my right eye, I could read every line of the chart. With my left eye, I could not see the chart at all or the Nurse. I had drops put in my eyes. About ten minutes later, I was seen by a lovely chap from Napoli. He scanned my eyes while we discussed my route through Italy to Greece and food we both liked from the country.

I was passed on to the Consultant – a lovely, tiny Vietnamese man – who I took to immediately. He told me that I had been referred to him because the Diabetic Retinopathy Clinic were worried about my left eye. I immediately relaxed because that has been useless to me since birth. They thought I had a detached retina which I only know about because boxers suffer from it. It turns out that I haven’t. All is as it should be. No cataracts either.

What a lovely day. I thought I would share it with you, Dear Reader. I am so relieved. I can see clearly now even though it’s still raining.

Friday, 16th January, 2026

Lovely warm and sunny morning. Woke up thinking how lucky I was after the wonderful news about my eyes yesterday and about the delightful people who I’d met in providing the service. Only one member of NHS staff was native English and that was the Receptionist. Every one of the Medical Staff was foreign. They could not have been more pleasant and, although initially a little reticent, the moment I showed an interest in where they were from, they talked enthusiastically about their homeland. Our Health Service would collapse without them so a Reform vote could be a very dangerous thing. They would prefer us to go for an insurance-based payment system anyway.

I have a mobile contract with EE giving me 2 smartphones and 2 mobile numbers each with unlimited calls, texts and data including European roaming. The 2 yr contract currently costs me 2 x £85.00 = £170.00 per month for the 2. The smartphones are ‘free’ with the monthly payment. Over 24 months they have cost me £4,080.00 but when I get to the end of the contract they are my property and I am entitled to 2 new phones on my contract.

I have 2 Samsung S24 Ultra mobiles and I will be given an upgrade to the next model – Samsung S25 Ultra. It won’t be massively different to look at. The corners are rounded off which I prefer but the chip inside is much quicker in processing everything and the main camera goes from 8MP to 50MP Ultra Wide Camera, 200MP Wide-angle Camera and 50MP/10MP Telephoto Camera. Readers of the Blog will know that it has moved on from all (too much) text to quite a lot of (too much?) illustration. The phone camera is important to me almost as much as the ability to make and receive calls.

For months, EE have been bombarding me with suggestions of ‘free’ early upgrades. What they don’t say but what I know is that they are afraid I will leave them in February when my contract is up. They also don’t say although I know it, if I upgrade early, I have to send my current smartphones back to them in exchange. They think I’m mad. The 2 new phones would cost me 2 x £1350.00 = £2,700.00 if I had to buy them but now I can sell the old ones for around 2 x £500.00 = £1000.00 to offset my monthly bill reducing it by £41.60 a month over the life of the contract.

Things do change so much over time. Since my last mobile contract, I have got rid of my landline. I was interested to read that BT are upgrading all landlines to internet based over the next few months. I haven’t missed my line at all. I used to live with my iPad in my hand. I still have one but now it is my phone I live with in my hand. I am communicating with friends all day even though they are mainly still in the North of England.

My photo Memory Box threw up pictures from a snowy North of England on this day last year, a house in Surrey where M&K had almost destroyed two Christmas Cakes before flying back to Florida 3years ago and M with P&C in Florida just 4 years ago.

Clarisse has been true to me because she’s that type of girl. The new bin has arrived and is accompanied by a 10 year warranty. Just realised, I will be almost 85 before I have to buy another one. I’ll make a note on my on-line calendar.

Saturday, 17th January, 2026

Lovely, bright and warm morning. It’s one when Alexa has announced that I have no commitments. What am I going to do. Well, I’ve been talking to my old friend and Digs-mate, John Ridley about South Korea where he spends lots of time. Did you know that South Korea has the world’s lowest birth rate other than the Vatican City and I think that’s debatable. I keep telling myself that I should go out there and meet him but I can’t quite get up enough enthusiasm – for the country not my friend.

I am booking a couple of short trips to France – one in March and another in May. They will be mainly wine-buying trips but we can hope to fit in a few places to walk in the Spring sunshine as well. I want to get our identities established on the new, Schengen Visa for non-members. It involves face and finger print scan just like the American ESTA. When I go the first time, I will be still 74 but by the second visit, I will have reached ¾ century.

I becoming more and more obsessed with age and achieving all the things I have to do before it’s too late. I look back at my younger self and think of all the things I could and should have done better. It was a different time as all the signs illustrate but it is still close enough to try to understand.

At least United have rediscovered some old, original spirit this afternoon. Well worth waiting for.

Sunday, 4th January, 2026

A cold start to the day after a clear and starry, moonlit night which fell to -3C/27F. Strangely, very few signs of frost and the low, strong sun is already streaming through the windows.

Well, you read it here first only yesterday. The world is already at war. The post WW2 rules-based order has broken down in spectacular fashion. The Americans have invaded a foreign, country and kidnapped its Head of State without even seeking United Nations agreement. Even Bush in Iraq and Libya didn’t do that.

Overnight all newspapers recognise the significance of this action at their own level. Regime Change will be both publicly decried by the Russians and Chinese but they will also see it as tacit legitimation of their imperialistic ambitions in reclaiming Eastern European countries like Ukraine and Taiwan which China has always believed belonged to them. If Trump believes he can get away with it, his next targets are Cuba and Greenland which will force Europe’s hand.

So many of these instabilities in the old order will force Europe to choose and so force UK to choose. War anywhere can quickly spark World War. If you are under 40 years of age, prepare your excuses now if you wish to dodge the Draft. It may well be coming sooner than you think.

In the light of Global Instability, everything else I think or write will seem utterly trivial but then Life must go on. I won’t be called up. I won’t be asked to contribute even though my world and yours, Dear Reader, may well be rocked before we die. All I can do is read, think, write, talk, lobby people in Government. Other than that, I have to enjoy my life and pursue my dreams and goals.

At the beginning of December, I published the latest tally of my experimental investment of £18,000.00 in Premium Bonds. I was rather pleased with myself in reporting that in the first three months I had won five prizes.

January has not let me down even if it was reported rather late. I have won 6 prizes now. Only £50.00 this month but it brings earnings up to £300.00 so far and puts my interest rate on course for 9.4% over the year if you factor in 40% tax rate.

A girl I haven’t seen for more than 50 years posted a picture, a haunt, a memory of my past. Appropriately, it is now closed, rennovated and repurposed. Even the trees are skeletons in a Winter world but it remains beautiful in memory and reality.

And yet we, mere mortals have moved on, mellowed but deteriorated. Memory plays tricks on one’s mind. When you are 20, you feel adult and ready to make a contribution to the world. In retrospect, as this second photo of some of my contemporaries shockingly illustrates, we were still just children mascarading as adults. So much life has passed under the bridge.

However, as I wrote yesterday, these members of the Boomer Generation missed the last world war and will miss the next world war other than as observers. Actually, it will not be a war of tanks and boots on the ground but one of Cyber invasion and Drone attack. I could volunteer for that.

Monday, 5th January, 2026

A cold night and we have quite a hard frost this morning with ice glistening on the pavements. Fortunately, the morning also brought strong sunshine and all the signs of Winter were burnt off almost immediately. My cousin from her house in Bellon in the Charente sent a winter photo

A friend from Greater Manchester posted this morning shot although, I know where I would rather be cold. Actually, I bought Easyjet return flights for Tenerife in November last night and they cost me £150.00 less than this year because I booked early in the ‘Sale’. So, I’ve now got 8 flights booked for 2006 so far and looking round for the next.

Of course I could have been here this week if I hadn’t sold the house. It is the brightness of the light and colours which make it attractive and the fact is is 15C warmer than here.

There was a time when making fresh coffee was a fairly simple and cheap procedure. It certainly isn’t now. A cheap percolator jug, some ground coffee and hot water was all that was needed. The ubiquity of Coffee shops on our High Streets has given us a desire for equally good coffee and modern machines and that has meant technology.

I’m on about my fifth fresh coffee maker and it is by far the best but it is also by far the most demanding of the user. Different Hoppers for different beans. Multiple settings for the grinder and the brewing head in terms of coarsenes of the grind and intensity of the brew have to be learnt and saved. The machine allows me to make and save individualised settings for multiple users. Then there are about 10 different hot and cold coffees to choose from and coffee is fed in between layers of milk to exactly the users preference.

The milk dispenser has to be comprehensively cleaned each day and the water container has to have a new filter unit fitted 6 times a year. And then there is the descaling. I’ve just completed it and it took about an hour of multiple processes. It takes over my life. The coffee is great but how much time have I got? I had to go to the Dentist this morning to have my teeth descaled as well. That’s even worse.

Tuesday, 6th January, 2026

Another cold night but no frost this morning and the sky is deliciously blue and sunny. My friends in Yorkshire seem to be confined to the house this morning. They can watch the outdoors on Sky TV.

First on the list of jobs this morning is to renew my travel insurance. Although I get it ‘free’ through my bank account, I have to pay for additions like special, medical circumstances and now, an age-related extension. Getting older has all sorts of humiliations. You really don’t want to read headlines like this on a Monday morning.

If you read the Blog yesterday, you will see that I reported on the National (Premium) Bonds experiment. I said it had failed me this month. Actually, if you go back to yesterday, you will see I actually won again but it was reported late. Hope springs eternal.

I listen to a radio 4 programme called More or Less which is about popular statistics. I have always liked Maths and Statistics. The programme interrogates and re-evalutes the sorts of figures that public figures and particularly politicians bandy about. This morning, it was looking again at Life Expectancy.

Popular belief is that Life Expectancy can be tracked in an ever rising line on the graph only dented by major events like World War and Pandemic. Many things are predicated on that belief like Retirement Age and Pension payment, Insurance Cover and Driving Qualification, etc..

Actually, from 2011, increases in life expectancy slowed after decades of steady improvement, prompting much debate about the causes. Then, in 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic was a more significant turning point, causing a sharp fall in life expectancy, the magnitude of which has not been seen since World War II. In the UK (2022-2024), life expectancy at birth is around 83.0 years for females and 79.1 years for males. 

It is likely that this is a blip in the long term trend but we cannot be sure and, if we can’t afford medical advances because we have to divert money to Defence, then it may take a long time to restart the climb.

If you want a reason to be cheerful, optimism can be found for my age group in these statistics from the ONS. If you have already staggered to the age of 74, your chances are better than for someone who is only starting out on the climb.

Wednesday, 7th January, 2026

Gorgeous morning. Dentist appointment at 8.30 am Just a routine check-up today but I’m spending too much time there. Three trips recently. Still, at least I’ve still got teeth and my dentist is a gorgeous, Persian Pricess called Fariba ( a Persian name that means ‘enticing’) so I can’t complain.

The dentist surgery is near the beach so it was a good excuse to have a walk at 8.00 am this morning. So clean and reviving – the air, the smell, the light and the sound of birds wheeling and screeching.

Back home, I’m going in the Gym for a long session. Actually, I’m really looking forward to it. I’m watching an American political thriller called Scandal which centres around a former Whitehouse ‘fixer’ who now operates with a team as a private company dedicated to making problems ‘go away’. I’m loving it and I hardly realise the pain of exercise I am so absorbed by the drama. It is exactly my sort of thing. This drama will get me through the entire winter. There are 7 Series comprising 124 Episodes.

I hope you’re following the Trump advance, Dear Reader. If you are, you will realise that I wasn’t exaggerating when I talked about World War 3 and planning for Conscription across Europe. If Europe allows the current incumbent of the Whitehouse to blunder round the world uncontrolled, first NATO will fall – one of Putin’s great dreams – and then China, Russia and America will divide the World and claim their own fiefdoms. Imperialism is on the march.

And just in case you didn’t believe me, after we heard about a Russian Oil Tanker trying to evade sanctions by going along off the UK coast and heavily laden US military aircraft landing in UK yesterday, this morning we have heard that American troops are boarding the Russian vessel which Russia is calling an act of war. Better look out your tin helmet and prepare your nuclear bunker!

Thursday, 8th January, 2026

A mild but grey morning. It’s one or the other at the moment – cold and bright or mild and grey. I look forward to combining the best of both worlds again soon. Unfortunately, I will be 75 before returning to the sunshine. My only consolation is that my Best Man, Kevin, is 75 today.

I took the chance to inform him that another Leeds resident died last night. Terry Yorath played for Leeds United for a decade but has died aged …. 75.

It all suggests that we should use every waking moment well as we get older. Don’t slow down. Speed up! I have to say, I have never been a long sleeper. I have been both a night owl and a lark. All through my working life, I went to bed at midnight and got up at 6.00 am. That pattern has changed a bit with retirement.

I try to go to bed just after 11.00 pm. but still wake up at 5.45 am. I try to remain active to encourage sleep but I am not sleeping well. This morning, after a full Gym session yesterday which exhausted me but last night’s sleep was fitful, my head is full of thoughts and I end up listening to a podcast which feeds more ideas.

Went down to the beach again this morning and it couldn’t be more different to yesterday. Damp, misty and dull. But still lovely. Evocative and emotional. A place to lose yourself in. Eternity.

Friday, 9th January, 2026

Mild but dark and damp. Depressingly uninviting. Actually, I have no need to go out at all today other than walking across the garden to the Gym. My calendar is empty for the next four days.

This day ten years ago, I was only 64 and I was flying Gatwick – Tenerife South for a month’s stay at the Blue Los Gigantes Hotel. I was the last of three months that we’d been there before moving in to our new house in April 2016.

The hotel was comfortable with two or three pools, a Gym and Spa, three Restaurants and a nice, big room to retreat to. It was after this stay, however, that we decided we didn’t want ‘managing’ any more how ever luxurious it was. We like to be in full control of our lives. Since then, we have always rented properties to do our own thing with the exception of short stays of a week or less.

Like every January, I have started off alcohol-free. In fact, last time I started on September 1st 2024 and got all the way to June 2025 before I drank again. I was almost ready to be accepted into Methodism when I panicked and let go. This time it will go on until June 2026 when I fly to Thessaloniki although a trip to France in the Spring will be a big test. Generally, if I decide to do something or really want something, I achieve it. And so it will be this time, I assure you.

Part of my ‘addiction’ is the process, the routine. So, I keep the routine but remove the alcohol instead. The table is laid just the same for Supper with the same wine glasses and a bottle of wine but it is guilt-free. What a saint I am, Dear Reader!

Saturday, 10th January, 2026

I’ve always been an emotional man and I ended yesterday feeling sad. Don’t know why but I find the sea a soothing consolation and that’s where I went this morning. It was a gorgeous place to be with strong sunshine and lots of beach revealed as the sea retreated to France.

Warm and bright, the Mediterranean colours were to drink in. Nourishment for the soul. Actually, I don’t have a soul – I had mine removed – but you know what I mean.

For years I have been flying out of Gatwick and Heathrow. If I was going for a week or less, I would drive and park. For longer, I would take a taxi, stay in an airport hotel before the flight. Recently, I found it was cheaper to drive and park than to take a return taxi ride. It is certainly more convenient for me. I prefer to travel under my own steam.

I have driven a Hybrid for some years now so this article in The Telegraph today gave me pause for thought. I was aware that long periods of idleness were bad for the battery. I even got my neighbour to drive mine every week when I left it at home. This woman’s £120,000 plug-in hybrid Land Rover – a rugged, all terrain vehicle – was parked for a fortnight in a cold carpark hit by frosts and she came back to find it totally immobilised. The battery was completely flat and the car management system which is, of course, electronic, was completely wiped out. It is something to think about.

Sunday, 28th December, 2025

Out in the garden last night at the end of December it was warm and bright. I was being over looked by this lunar – tic who was hanging around.

One shivers slightly, looking up there.
The hardness and the brightness and the plain   
Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare

Is a reminder of the strength and pain   
Of being young; that it can’t come again,   
But is for others undiminished somewhere.

Philip Larkin – Sad Steps

In poetry, a crescent moon is often used as a metaphor for a new beginning. For Larkin, it was a new beginning that can’t come again. Don’t you just love him? The harsh, dark realism of his thoughts.

Having spent Christmas Eve with young people – kids with their whole lives ahead of them, Kids who wore their dreams on their sleeves for all to wonder at, Larkin’s words are an honest dagger to the heart for those of us who are so old we can only manufacture small lights of hope ahead. We can look to viewing new places and touching old friends but all the while bounded by the sadness that is time.

Last night I completed watching a potentially harrowing film on Netflix call Goodbye June. I know you will think I am mad but it had to be done. June – the Mother played by Helen Mirren – was in her final days as she died of cancer. Her family were in constant attendance and brought all the emotional baggage of family relations with them. The whole process was wonderfully redeemed by the way this family rallied around June in her final hours with admirable strength. She passed away as they performed the Nativity for her in the hospital room. There was something incredibly uplifting about it. I still cried.

… a reminder of the strength and pain   
Of being young; that it can’t come again,   
But is for others undiminished somewhere.

Does meeting on the dark side of the moon involve living or dying? For me it is living long and dying late. Going out for a walk through the woods.

It is a grey, chilly Winter’s day. Even the birds are conserving their energy today. Ivy climbs vigorously up the trunks of dormant trees and dead leaves rustle in the undergrowth.

Nature will regenerate as the Spring warms up but there are signs of the present past as I walk down the tree-lined path. Who tied these ribbons of memory? Are they for memories of love or death or longing? And do you care, Dear Reader?

Monday, 29th December, 2025

Oh, it’s coming, Dear Reader, 2026 is almost here. Going to be a very big year, a momentous year. I can just feel it. WooHoo!

Crisp – cold even – morning with a gorgeously, inviting sky. I woke at 3.33 am and struggled to get back to sleep. Why do I always wake up on these mystical numbers? By the time, Radio 4 Today programme came on at 6.00 am, I was falling asleep. Unfortunately, the programme was gripping for that time in the morning.

Each day over Christmas, they invite someone with a particular specialism to be a Guest Editor for the day. This morning, it was Mustafa Suleyman. He is a leading light in the advancement of Artificial Intelligence.

Of course, AI is all the rage at the moment. It is hard to turn on a news programme without hearing it mentioned. It is hard to read a serious newspaper (I exclude the Daily Fail & the Daily Sexpress colour comics) without at least one item on AI being included.

AI has been with us for years but is going to be absolutely revolutionary in the 21^st Century akin to the Industrial Revolution of the 19^th Century. Then, thousands of workers left the fields where they worked in Agriculture and moved to create towns where they worked in Manufacture. The dislocation engendered dire conditions which it took decades to ameliorate and it spawned the Labour Movement.

More than 30 years ago, I was using Artificial Intelligence in its infancy with Authorware. I had a problem to solve and that is the best way to adopt and adapt new technology. I was trying to create computer-based individualised learning programmes which could be delivered to large numbers of students by small numbers of ‘teachers’. In fact, they didn’t need to be fully qualified teachers but could just be Learning Support workers who were cheaper to employ.

It involved providing teaching content integrated with testing and assessment followed by tailored extension according to previous achievement. It was all to be put through the Intranet that I had designed and launched for staff and students. I learnt fast because I needed to.

Today in Education, you will find students using AI to write their essays for them and that immediately throws up the problem. How do you push out AI across our world without it being used to force for bad. It should not be a tool to help people cheat. What will those whose jobs are lost to AI do to earn a living? Here are just a few:

• Interpreters and translators
• Proof readers
• Statistical assistants
• Telephone operators
• Sales representatives
• Legal Assistants
• Diagnostic Healthcare

Anything where the centre of the work is rote learning and replication, logical development is ideal for AI and those jobs will no longer be done by humans. Just as in the last revolution, Ford replaced thousands of workers making cars with each worker doing one task on a production line to build a car and then moved on to replacing most workers with robots so it will be for AI.

What Artificial Intelligence can’t do is be human and the speaker this morning helped me understand the difference. He boiled it down to the ability of humans to feel pain and sadness, to emapthise with others feeling those things which AI can’t do. So, for example, the job of Diagnostic Healthcare can be done by AI machine – x-raying a body to look for cancer and then looking unerringly through the scans to find it without getting tired, bored or distracted. Whereas, the human sympathy and empathy of Healthcare will still need human input.

As a retired old Blogger, my use for AI is much less urgent. So many people want words because they find them so difficult. I don’t. In fact my hackles rise when AI suggests improvements to my writing. I particularly want help with graphics. Above are three versions of the same photo. The one on left is the original. In the middle one, ChatGTP added Santa Hats and on the right Baby Piglets were the presents. The problem is that it is all so effortless.

Tuesday, 30th December, 2025

I’ve just received a video clip from a skinny, old man who is skiing in France before returning to Florida. Looks like he’s got plenty of snow.

On this day, 47 years ago, our guests were struggling across the country and across the Pennines during a gritter strike in thick snow. It is our Wedding Anniversary today and I have helped my wife celebrate by ordering her a new set of pans to replace those bought 30 years ago. What more could a girl want? Well, it seems quite a lot.

It is a gorgeous day outside but quite cold. Started the morning with Porridge. Chef is cooking Scallops Gratin for Supper and Langoustines with Focaccia and a bottle of Champagne. Went down to the Marina for a walk. The light was glorious.

We have been discussing how to mark our 50^th anniversary in 2028. It has been tentatively decided that an Australian trip would be a good idea. Been meaning to go for years so we will make a real go of it – Fly First Class Flight. Stay for at least a month. No expenses spared. It will be once in a life time.

Always wanted to see Sydney Harbour Bridge, the Opera House and Bondi Beach so that is the plan …. assuming we are still alive. Might even meet up with an old school friend of mine. Lots to look forward to, Dear Reader, down under.

Wednesday, 31st December, 2025

And so another year is on its death bed. I remember the feverish anticipation of the new millenium, the excitement and the fear. I was still in my 40s. I was starting out on the project of building a house on a Greek Island. At the same time, there was all the build up to the Millenium Bug and how it could destroy computers and the internet. Hard to believe 25 years have passed. In that same time ahead, we will be 99, Dear Reader. Hard to believe it’s going to happen.

Crystal clear morning with a touch of frost. We did go down to 2C/36F and the cars have a dusting of cold. Walking outside will mean Fleeces today because it is not going to get much warmer throughout. Going out to collect the new kitchen pans. Ordered them from ProCook yesterday and they have been delivered to a collection point nearby this morning. Fantastic service.

I’ve been having a bit of a culture binge over Christmas. Last night I completed the Peter Schaffer Mozart Biopic on Sky Atlantic. Contrary to my expectations, the almost 3hrs of drama held me from start to finish. I had forgotten how much I loved the music of Mozart and to see it in dramatic context of his life made it even more delicious. Particularly, I thought it captured the contradistinction of man and art.

The utter genius of the boy who wote his first opera aged 10 yrs, who could just pick up a music score and hear the whole arrangement in his head, who could play so many of the instruments himself that he wrote for, who could dash off the wonder that is Le nozze di Figaro, Don Giovani or Cosi Fan Tuti and then his final, glorious but unfinished Requiem and then to run along side the drunken, drug-taking, whoring, Roué who parted from his utterly supportive wife as he sort new pleasures. All this and he died aged 35 yrs at the height of his creative powers.

You may know of the famous sculpter, Eric Gill whose work was aclaimed worldwide but who suddenly fell from grace when his diaries revealed that he had sexually abused his young daughters over a lengthy period of their childhood. It revisited the debate about the separation or interrelationship of art and reality, creator and creation.

In a sense, it is there in the life of Mozart but it is definitely there in the life of one of my heroes, Philip Larkin. Hero is not the right word. I don’t think I would like Larkin at all if we had met. As atheists, he and I agree on his view of the bleak hopelessness of life.

Key themes in his poetry are:

• Monotony and Boredom of Life
• Futility of Love and Relationships
• Loss of Faith and Meaning
• A focus on unhappiness, failure, and limitation
• Inevitability of Death and Extinction

What is shocking is what you realise about him in his letters and personal life. You find his out and out Racism, Misogyny, bigotry and, frankly, a degree of Fascism. His father was strongly pro-Nazi in the 1930s. Larkin himself was an isolated, insulated man with parochial tastes and used his women casually.

Does this change my view of his poetry. I must admit it has given me pause for thought in the past but, ultimately, works of art can only be appreciated as free-standing pieces and Larkin’s poetry speaks to me so strongly that I am constantly saying to myself, Why didn’t I think of that? I wish I’d written that.

Over the past few days, I have been binge listening to the Poet Laureate, the Huddersfield poet, Simon Armitage, revisiting a number of Larkin’s poems on BBC Radio Sounds. Whether you know him or not, it’s well worth a listen.

Thursday, 1st January, 2026

It’s come. Happy New Year, Dear Reader. Happy 2026. I told you, it’s going to be an exciting year of risk and danger but plenty of enjoyment as a reward.

As a regular reader you will know that I have a Memory Box which throws up what happened across the years on any given day. On the last day of 2006, I was watching the old year die behind the hills of this bleak, Pennine road. At the time, I thought it was romantic. Now it just looks empty.

Twenty years on, I walked down the beach road last night and, in spite of the lights, it was cold and equally bleak. Almost no lights out at sea as I stared into the inky blackness. Maybe a bit warmer than the Pennine Moors. To the right is the endlessly undulating sea. To the left is the newly developed and brightly lit enchanted parkland path leading to old and fading civilisation.

Of course, light and darkness are emotional states. Light in the darkness symbolises hope, enlightenment, knowledge, and goodness overcoming times of struggle, confusion, or profound sadness.

Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.   
In time the curtain-edges will grow light.   
Till then I see what’s really always there:   
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,   
Making all thought impossible but how   
And where and when I shall myself die.  

Aubade – Philip Larkin

For Larkin, Light can offer only fleeting comfort while darkness signifies loneliness or the ultimate void, existential terror and despair. Don’t you just have to love his optimism! He’s right though. He articulates completely what so many of us think.

Friday, 2nd January, 2026

And so it goes, just like you said it should be …. Coming to the week’s end and well on into January and 2026. Soon, it will feel completely normal, taken for granted, and we will be anticipating 2027. Bring on the fireworks!

I have rather over indulged myself recently like so many others. Now I have to pay for it by reigning in my instincts. The diet has been readdressed and the exercised routine tightened. Home made Museli and Home made Soups are the order of these days. More concentration in the Gym rather than walking outside is another readjustment.

I’ve decided to indulge myself in a non-calorific way instead. I’ve been listening to the wonderful, Elgar Cello Concerto – self reflective and elegiac. Written in the immediate aftermath of the First World War, it was not a success until the mid 1960s and long after his death. It was Jacqueline du Pré who brought it to public attention and it is now one of the most played classical pieces.

Talking about over indulgence, I was brought up short by a poverty report discussed in the Manchester Evening News this morning telling me that Deprivation levels are higher than ever in Oldham today. Ashton Road and the Eldon Street Estate, parts of Hathershaw, St. Mary’s, Coldhurst, Holts, and Glodwick are some of the most deprived wards in the whole UK. Many of them have occupied that position since I first went there to teach in 1972. Nothing has changed their reputations for more than 50 years. Objectively, no doubt, they are better off but Relatively not.

It is unbelievable that nothing dramatic has happened to improve the lot of Gtr. Manchester inhabitants in general and Oldhamers in particular over half a century. When I walked through Manchester and down Oxford Road to the Business School in the early 1970s, it was impossible to get there without seeing lots of beggars. It always struck me as ironic the contrast between the affluence the central tenet of the Business School raison d’etre and the utter hopelessness of those outside on the street.

And after 50 years when we have Never had it so Good, where Things can only get Better and where we are enthusiastically going to Level Up, little has improved. You only have to look at the quality of the infrastructure, the old, damp and cold housing, the lack of meaningful jobs, the poverty of ambition and absence of inspiration to see we have failed.

What also strikes me is how inurred my life is from these things. I can’t remember the last time I saw someone begging other than in Greece. It was a regular feature of Huddersfield and Manchester. Here it isn’t. There must be poverty as everywhere but it is not so dominant or obvious. Supermarkets still collect for foodbanks and adverts are placed for people wanting to rent a small home and I shudder at the thought but it isn’t a central feature. I so hope this Labour Government are given the chance to make that difference over the next 10 years.

Saturday, 3rd January, 2026

We had a clear, moonlit sky last night and a frost this morning but it was soon burnt off by strong sunshine. I slept rather fitfully and woke to listen to a podcast about predictions for the year ahead. The News Agents were predicting the resurrection of the Labour Government with much better economic news and the rise of Starmer on the back of it. They were also predicting World instability and discussing the chances of the reintroduction of Conscription. It all chimed into my dreams and waking thoughts.

Somewhere around 1958, I was exploring my world and wandered in to one of our outhouses in the garden. It was what we called the Boot House which was supposed to do what it said on the tin – somewhere to store muddy boots out of the house. Another was an outside toilet and another was a Coal House for coal and firewood. These outhouses were still used but were really relics of another age when houses had open fires and outdoor toilets as a standard. The house had been built by my Great Grandfather’s firm over a 100 years ago.

Actually, this row of outhouses had been built over the Water Well and in my early life the kitchen still contained a hand pump for bringing water up. Although we did have taps and running water installed through lead pipes, Mum insisted on using the well water hand-pumped up to wash the girls’ hair in because the water was so soft.

Just putting down these words shocks me and makes me realise how far we have come over my lifetime. It was provoked by a dream I had in the early hours of the morning. I was around 7 years old, my father had introduced me to gardening by buying me a garden tool set and a packet of turnip seeds to try out for my birthday. I went into the Boot House and uncovered this trunk. Inside there was a sinister looking thing which I now know was a gasmask. There was an army cap, a damp and mouldy suit, shoes and some curling old papers. I think there was also a stick that I now find was known as a swagger stick that officers carried. That trunk had been stored in there for almost a decade.

It was confusing and exciting. I asked my parents and they didn’t seem too keen to talk about it but knew they had to. I learnt that it was my father’s Demob Trunk and I was amazed to hear that, although he had been a Captain in the Royal Engineers serving in Palestine for most of the war, he had left the army as a Major. Major Eric Sanders returned from directing squaddies building bridges in Palestine to directing craftsmen to build houses in the east Midlands

Of course, after the war, Rationing continued until July 1954 when I was 3 years old and Conscription didn’t end until 1960 having taken a number of Dad’s apprentices who didn’t return until 1963. Shocking to realise how close I was to it all and I think this dream could have been provoked by the current view that World War III is almost unavoidable with Europe having to commit huge resources to resisting Russian and Chinese and American Imperialism.

The idea of UK Conscription being part of the planning is seriously being discussed in dark corners of the Government and Civil Service at the moment. Anyone – male or female – aged under 40 yrs old could well be called up. Ironically, the Millennial and Generation Z cohorts are the generations most rapidly losing faith in democracy. It appears many would prefer a strong, autocrat because their elected leaders don’t seem to be performing for them.

Our cohort may have been born on the fringes of war and may die on the fringes of war again without ever having to fight.

Sunday, 21st December, 2025

Today is the shortest day of the year and tonight is the longest night. Everything gets better from here, Dear Reader. Dust off your bikini. The Summer is coming!

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ….

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below.

What a lot of nonsense. Outside it is blue sky with strong sun. The grass is growing and the birds are signalling signs of Spring. There are daffodils forcing their heads up to the sky and trees budding with sweet, new green tips.

We are well past the middle of December and 2025 is dying fast. Our neighbours are setting off on the 27th for an 11 week cruise of the Caribbean. Four other neighbour households are arranging a joint holiday on Skiathos. I have booked up 4 different trips abroad amounting to 10 weeks abroad so far. In the new year, I will be looking to organise a few days away in France – the first of at least three of those trips – and, currently, we are considering some city breaks of perhaps 4 days each in Prague and Seville.

I know very little about modern Prague but it has long been a place of significance in my head. The Prague Spring of 1968 when Alexander Dubček was elected leader of Communist Party of Czechoslovakia and began a process of cultural and economic liberalisation which encouraged mass protest against Soviet domination. It was short lived and was crushed by Soviet tanks in August 1968 but it was a start of what Putin is fighting to regain now in Ukraine – an Empire. It was the time that I was beginning to take an interest in politics and world affairs with real thought for the first time. It would be interesting to visit in Spring 2026.

I know virtually nothing about Seville other than their oranges form the basis of our marmalade. Actually, I’m not even keen on that. It feels like the stuff of our parents rather than a ‘hip’ young person like me. My housekeeper’s choice of romatic destination, I had to look it up on the web. It is the capital and largest city of Andalusia, you know. It wasn’t until 1979 that Spain held its first democratic municipal elections after the end of Franco’s dictatorship. Incredible.

The most amazing thing I have found is the difference in prices between the two destinations. Easyjet flights to Seville are at least double the price for Prague. A Suite for 4 nights in a 4*/5* hotel is at least three times more expensive in Seville than in Prague although the Czech hotels look better quality. It’s going to be a fun year topped off by a week in Oldham, Dear Reader. What more could you want?

Monday, 22nd December, 2025

Wonderfully warm and sunny morning. Have to do some shopping. Thought early this morning would be the best option. If it was, I wouldn’t like to repeat it tomorrow. The roads were really busy. The carparks were horribly busy. The supermarkets were intolerably busy. Even under that pressure, people were polite and relaxed which is typical down here. It would be different in Surrey or Manchester.

I don’t do God and I don’t do Christmas. I know. I am boring. I do giving but don’t like/cope with receiving. I bought a tin of the sickliest, most appalling chocolates for my neighbour, Filippo’s kids to make them thoroughly sick on Christmas day which I consider obligatory and that is as far as I’ve gone.

I’m not keen on Marks & Spencer and we rarely shop there but we’ve been 4 times in the past month. The one redeeming feature of it is that it is opposite the beach and pier. It gives me a chance to walk, look and photograph.

“But the sun brightened—
It brightened, and Crow returned charred black ….”

Today, I made a new friend on the promenade. She didn’t say a lot but I knew what she was thinking. I thought the same.

A few years ago I heard Bob Mortimer tell a story on Would I Lie to You about being a guest of someone called Chris Rea who cracked an egg into his bath. I can’t remember why but nor had I heard of Chris Rea. I had to look him up and found he was a musician who was associated with the song, ‘Driving Home for Christmas’ which I thought I’d heard somewhere.
Anyway, I was shocked to read today that Chris Rea died this morning at the tender age of 74. There’s too much of this dying!

Certainly this Christmas we will remember people we have lost. We will remember Phyllis who died this year but we will also remember my Mother-in-Law, Jane who is so much missed. Here she is in all her cheekiness at Christmas time in Yorkshire in 2008.

Tuesday, 23rd December, 2025

Warm but grey this morning. Since returning from Tenerife three weeks ago, we really haven’t felt traditional December weather at all. The newspapers have been full of confident predictions of snow across the country. They haven’t happened and are not predicted by the Met. Office to happpen in the near future.

Having been a Climate Change denier for a long time, in recent years I have had to face the facts and accept its central tenets. Even so, it doesn’t really bother me. Warmer times will suit me fine although I know some, old ladies will struggle with it.

It certainly is quite a remarkable trend over my lifetime which I have amplified by moving to the South Coast. Having left the land of ice and snow for the coast of sea and sunshine I appreciate it even more in older age.

Sixteen years ago, I had been retired for almost a year but was still living in Yorkshire. The winter of 2009 was a harsh one yet, even then, not as bad as the 1950s & 60s.

In this week 16 years ago, I was driving through scenes like this on the A62 from Yorkshire to Lancashire. They are beautiful but once you’ve observed that, what else is there to admire about freezing cold and icey roads, putting your life at risk and salt attacking your car. Why would you volunteer for it when you could live in the sunshine?

In those days, it was either to wait for the digger to clear the A62 Moors Road or take your life in your hands in a white-out on M62 highest stretch of motorway in England.

It was our last Christmas in Quarry Court and our last Christmas with my lovely Mother-in-Law. We struggled over the Pennines to get her and struggled to take her back. The garden was out of bounds.

In our garden down here today, Geraniums are still flowering as is the Fuscia Janey named after Mum-in-Law and we are picking fresh Rosemary and Parsley for our meal. In the end, one has to acknowledge the evidence.

Filippo, our lovely neighbour from Parma, came over this morning with a bottle of wine from his homeland. He and his wife are both medical scientists who mainly work from home. They are a delightful couple who have two, young children we hardly ever see never mind hear. Within an hour, we were tasting it as an accompaniment to the most wonderful smoked salmon I have ever eaten. We bought a side of smoked salmon from our fresh fish suppliers and we are so pleased with it.

Wednesday, 24th December, 2025

Up early this morning. Driving up to Surrey. Hoping to beat the mania that is the M25 on Christmas Eve. It is madness and I wouldn’t be doing it out of choice but I know my duty. By midday, I will be trying to park in Woking multi storey carpark. Can you imagine it? Wish me well, Dear reader. See you on the other side.

Well, the drive up was wonderful, very quiet and easy. We arrived by 10.30 am. Cup of coffee and off to the Dementia Facility. Picked up C and on to Woking Crematorium where we had a short ceremony to place Phyllis’ ashes urn in a memorial stone. It was a nice but cold memorial.

On to the Theatre. That was the start of eating too much. Tables booked at the restaurant where we shared pizzas. Then in to the auditorium where we watched a clever version of Snow White with Rob Rinder and Leslie Joseph as leads. It was cleverly presented and even I enjoyed it although it lasted two hours.

On to Supper at the Maybury Inn just a few hundred yards from where we used to live a decade ago. We had a fairly average two course meal with wine which cost £375.00. It was the sort of poor quality meal that confirms me in not eating out very often.

I had a Fritto Misto starter followed by Surf & Turf – Roast Pork with Scallops – main course. I’m afraid it was only just passable ‘Pub Food’ and I wouldn’t recommend it.

Thursday, 25th December, 2025

A very happy Christmas to all readers of the Blog. It is starting off with stark, blue skies and bright sunshine but cold. For many, maybe most people, this is a time of happiness and celebration. It is my 74th Christmas and I woke up feeling sad. I was listening to an analysis of Edward Elgar at 5.00 am and that set the mood music and then I thought of missing people from my life. Alright, I am strange but it is who I am.

I first met Edward Elgar, the man responsible for Land of Hope & Glory, Pomp & Circumstance and The Dream of Gerontius, when I was at a low ebb in 1973 and delivering a course for Dutch teachers who were studying English Language and Culture. It was delivered at my old college in Ripon and we played them what was then considered to be quintessentially English music in the form of Elgar’s Enigma Variations.

I’ve always considered him an Edwardian gentleman with whom I had little in common but, when you get down to it, he was just a man as I am. He had his loves and fears, his likes and dislikes and he had the need to express himself, to communicate with the world as I do. He chose music, I choose words. This morning I learnt a lot more about him. Like me, he was brought up a Roman Catholic but, unlike me, that informed his life.

He wrote the Enigma Variations at the turn of the century and 15 years before the start of World War. It is split into 14 variations. Each one is based on a person in his life. The first is to his wife, Alice. Another is on a girlfriend of his and another on his best friend and fellow musician and so on. This one called Nimrod, legendary biblical figure from Genesis, known as a mighty hunter, was playing this morning, playing so sadly that the memories flooded back and made me weep silently.

Went down to the beach to forget. Walking on the Beach this morning was absolutely delightful. Saw a few birds and one said she was 74. I really find it hard to believe.

It is cold out there today – 9C/48F – and I am going to spend a couple of hours in the Gym. I’ve had my sun quota for the day. It will give me an excuse to watch my latest favourite Spy thriller –Deep State – on Disney+. Let’s get on to our 75th Christmas, Dear Reader. I’ve just been watching famous obituaries for 2025. It comes to us all. Happy Christmas!

Friday, 26th December, 2025

Boxing Day – another anachronism we should sweep away and then the world can go back to work and leave the Retired in peace. The boys are driving up to Manchester this morning for the match at Old Trafford this evening. After Newcastle go 3 up and the Theatre of Dreams becomes a nightmare, they have to drive all the way back to Surrey to be ready for work on Saturday morning.

I, on the other hand, will be watching from the comfort of my sofa. Might even put the central heating on. It was so cold last night – 0C/32F – that I put it on downstairs for an hour before getting up this morning. It isn’t going well for England in the cricket and I don’t hold out great hopes for United at the moment.

I am watching so much Drama at the moment that I can hardly keep up with the plots. Yesterday, I wrote that I was watching Deep State – on Disney+ in the Gym. Last night I watched two very contrasting items. I have no idea why I get drawn into it other than I am an incurable romantic but I watched Love Actually on Land TV for the umpteenth time. I really like Emma Thompson and Keira Knightley and I really want to be Prime Minister. That would solve everything!

At the end of the evening, we started watching a much more challenging but gripping Drama Directed by Kate Winslet who is also one of the daughters of Helen Mirren who is dying of cancer and her husband, Timothy Spall.

I managed just 30 mins last night but was spellbound by the siblings all falling out about what should happen to their Mother as the cancer spread and becomes terminal – imminently terminal. It is so realistic and yet so shocking. I have seen it and felt it and it feels so real. Escapism this is not.

In one guise or not, this happens to us all in our lifetimes. We all have Mothers and they all die usually before us. It is how you and they deal with it that counts. I’ve got another 45 mins to come tonight. That should be fun.

What I’m really looking forward to is the return of The Night Manager – an espionage Thriller based on the characters created by John le Carré. It starts on Thursday to kick off the New Year. All this sedentary activity has to be balanced out by walking and that’s where I’m going now into the crisp sunshine of the end of the year.

I would warn you, Dear Readers, to beware. There is a Cake fiend on the loose. He thrives on it and may be dangerous. The hats may be interchangeable but the cake is definitely his. My old friends from the Dementia Ward – Peter, Tash, Chris & Kevin – seem to have escaped again and sent this photo to greet me this morning.

I am well out of it. A bit of Bubbly and smoked salmon sandwiches for Lunch will get me through the day although I will have to supplement my walk with a bit of self-flagellation in the Gym later.

Saturday, 27th December, 2025

A crystal clear morning of piercing sunshine from a clear blue sky. Certainly one to clear the head and focus the mind. I’ve got the inevitable supermarket trip and then some Office work before going out to enjoy a walk. Christmas is past, thank goodness, and I produced a final, emotional memory for M & P.

Pauline’s last Christmas with her Mum was a wonderful one and then 12 years on, instead of cooking for them on the day as usual, during Covid restrictions we drove up to The Surrey Home for the Bewildered where staff had got a couple of inmates up and dressed in time to receive and look grateful for their pre-prepared Christmas feast.

One of the things I’ve had to do this morning is urgently get to grips with the new Schengen European entry exit system calculator. I have visions of us being turned away at the border. I’ve still got French trips to sort out and it’s looking tight but doable. Fortunately, Oldham doesn’t count.

The hooligans managed to guide an escapee from the Home for the Bewildered all the way up to Old Trafford. You can see here that he is struggling to keep hold of reality. He even bought me an xtra large shirt.

After United won at last, K will now have to fly back from Florida for every Home Game this season. What else has he got to do?

Sunday, 14th December, 2025

Warm night and a warm day for mid December. No heating needed and sitting in shorts and tee shirt writing my Blog. We are using so little gas and electricity that I am £400.00 in credit on my Dual Fuel plan. It’s the luck of the draw, I suppose, to have a warmer Winter. Our actions in moving South, of course, have also influenced it. We even won the Lottery again last night. Goodness knows how we will spend the £30.00 but the Beautician will probably be grateful for it.

I was thinking about Luck/Fate set against individual intervention in achieving things this morning. This photograph of Littlehampton Beach was posted of wartime defences against invasion. My generation have been lucky. Unlike our parents, we haven’t been asked to fight. It’s beginning to look like the current young crop may be called upon soon to do exactly that. My generation and subsequent ones have benefitted from the Peace Dividend and freedom to live our lives and make our own decisions.

Of course, some of us make bad decisions. I was struck by these kids who I taught and have really made something of themselves in different ways. One runs a thriving Beauty Business in the Oldham area and the other two have a successful Building Company in Oldham. They have come from working class stock and an impoversished environment and made their own fortunes through hard work and commitment.

Contrast with this chap who had a similar start in life but took a different path, became a leading light in a football thug gang, spent large chunks of his life in prison and died at the age of 62 in an act of pure lunacy. Some people never learn and that is what marks us out.

Depends whether you believe in the Determinist or Free Will philosophical position. Did the Union Jack death come from a predisposition to lunacy and criminality or did that lad choose his own fate? Did the kids I taught learn self reliance and determination or were they born with it? Admittedly, it is never quite as simple as that but you get the idea.

My life has been lived resisting the Determinist view, believing that my efforts are what define me. That’s why I am constantly disappointed in myself for regularly falling short of my own expectations. As I’ve got older, I have realised increasingly that my origins and background have played a significant part in who I am. Well, that’s my excuse. Anyway, going in the Gym now to punish myself for all round failure. Have a nice day, Dear Reader.

Monday, 15th December, 2025

So dark this morning. Warm but dark. Actually next Sunday is the shortest day and longest night of the year. From then on, everything gets better – theoretically. Dry, warm but grey today.

I don’t do God, as Tony Blair once famously said before converting to Catholicism. I don’t do Christmas either. I have no wish to deprive others of their joy just don’t include me. Actually, we are going up to Surrey for a commemoration of Pauline’s sister’s life. They would always meet up at Christmas so it seemed an appropriate thing to do. We are going to the chapel where her ashes are scattered, going to the Pantomime which she liked to do with her grandsons and then a meal at a restaurant nearby. It is not about me so I can fade into the background and observe. My favourite occupation.

Christmas is a time to communicate with people from our past. I approve of that. I like to do it. It helps to keep our lives in perspective. The lad who was a boyhood friend from Repton and has lived in America since 1969; the girl I knew in the late 1960s/early 70s; the teacher who left my school in 1976 and I haven’t seen since; the friends who moved to Edinburgh 45 years ago and who we have exchanged the same two Christmas cards with ever since to the point that they are so stuffed with little annual letters and bound by tape that we have to have them weighed before posting.

These are lovely, poignant, slightly painful events which attempt to retrieve those times. Some do. Some don’t but never say never. Occasionally, people fail to send a card to us but my rule is that we don’t give up. Until death is confirmed, I fullfil my obligation. More often than not, the chain is re-established next year.

When I first moved to Oldham in 1972, I couldn’t find anywhere to live and had to settle for the most dire accomodation in a down at heel street which was blackened by the previous century of industrial pollution. Oldham was the town of mills and chimneys, of smoke and of damp and blackened stone. It was a hell of a culture shock. I felt bewildered and alone. I felt miserable. I had come from a comfortable, middle class home and felt utterly out of place.

The weird thing is that even that experience has mellowed into poignancy which is tender to revisit. When I moved there, a huge area of old, slum housing had just been cleared and ‘smart’ new 1960s Estate housing errected. Quite a few teachers in my school had moved into the Shaw Road Estate which was clearly an improvement on the old – they even had bathrooms and indoor toilets but they only lasted 30 years and been declining for half of those.

I was eventually taken to Huddersfield to live. Actually, it was a grander, more prosperous and cleaner Northern town which I quite enjoyed living in. Nowadays, when I go back it is in severe decline. Commerce is dying on the streets. The Local Authority doesn’t appear to have the money to raise the town’s head to the light. It feels a bit depressing. I was pleased to find this report from the early 1970s comparing Huddersfield with Halifax and the rennovation of the wonderful Piece Hall. Sometimes, you have to go back to advance.

Tuesday, 16th December, 2025

Another grey but warm and dry morning. Had the joy of spending time in M&S yesterday afternoon. I felt old just standing there. All around me seemed to be old. I’m never that comfortable walking through the bra displays but that’s what you have to do to get to the Collection Point. My wife buys clothes online like there is no tomorrow. On this occasion, she bought a coat which she could pick up in store.

The coat was meant to keep her warm when walking. She looked nice in it and we brought it home where she test-walked it in quite a chilly breeze. It failed the test. It was light and comfortable but didn’t keep the cold out.

Guess where I am going this morning. I want my £100.00 back so M&S will be the first place to visit. The next few days will see some frenzied clothes site surfing. Many coats will arrive. Maybe one will be retained. The rest will be returned. You see, Dear Reader, how exciting my life is.

At least while we were at the store, I was able to cross the road on to the beach. It is just as interesting under grey skies as it is in full sunshine out of clear blue. Yesterday, it was lovely and bleak with all the sadness and softness of collective memory. Gulls cried plaintively on the wind and the pier was deserted.

Just back from the delights of M&S opposite the Worthing Pier. Workmen are renewing the groynes on the beach. Gorgeous, huge hunks of wood being driven into the shale to form a barrier slowing down the onslaught of the waves. I spoke to the men. They told me that these massive oak logs would last around 15 years of twice daily salt water beating.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Life is fragile and uncertain. My Brother in Law is currently in hospital recovering from serious surgery to cope with Bowel Cancer. For whatever reason, it was diagnosed too late. We wish him strength and a quick recovery. We know what cancer can do to one and we hope for the best.

It is a truth universally acknowledged you may recognise as the opening sentence of Jane Austen’s Pride & Predjudice. This phrase is extremely current because Jane Austen was born 250 years ago today. Can you imagine what the world of 1775 that she was born into was like? Have you read Pride & Predjudice, Dear Reader? I haven’t.

Wednesday, 17th December, 2025

The Ghosts of Christmas Past drifted through my mind in the early hours of the morning. It was sparked by Radio 4 unusually playing a snatch from:

Feliz Navidad
Próspero año y felicidad

I haven’t been following pop music since the early 1970s but in my teens, José Feliciano appealed to me for some strange reason. Over Christmas 1968/9 I was singing:

Come on, baby, light my fire
Try to set the night on fire

I was 17 years old. I don’t know what I was thinking. I loved the raw edge to the voice and just the foreign name of the singer. I can see myself singing in my bedroom alone.

The next ghost was one of the most exciting Christmases in my memory as I watched the pictures on television in 1989 of the toppling of Romania’s tyrannical communist dictator, Nicolae Ceaușescu and his wife Elena. I was absolutely gripped and I can see the pictures clearly in my mind now of Ceaușescu berating the crowds of protestors and of them storming the building as he ran and was eventually captured and lined up with his wife and shot.

Twenty years on, in 2009, my sister had just come back from a trip to Istanbul with her friends and sent me photos. She looked in her element. Today she is struggling with the stress of an ill husband.

On this day in 2009, I was retired but still driving across the Pennines to visit my Mother in Law. On this day back then I had the time to pause and photograph the moors which were bloody freezing. I recently talked to the Doctor who bought our house but has now moved to Norfolk and he said, as I do,that he didn’t miss the winters of the North of England. They may be all floating by on safety rafts at the moment after all the rain but it was the snow that got to me.

This morning, I received Christmas greetings from Nigel, a flatmate of mine from 1971 and a photo that I have absolutely no memory of being taken. Chilling to know that the girl smiling happily back left has been dead now for 5 years when I think of all the life I’ve lived over that time.

Thursday, 18th December, 2025

Warm but wet. Mmmm! A warm but wet day with brooding skies. Had to collect fish – fresh salmon, smoked salmon, hake loin – and then on to the beach.

I love the drama of the sea intermittently attacking the land. The shale roars as it is drawn back into the waves. Foam flies everywhere as it crashes back up the beach.

We could walk to the beach but I drove because it was wet and I had to collect about 5kg of fish to bring home. One of the worries of aging is mobility and driving. Almost every residential area requires it. I have spent most of my married life doing the driving even though my wife is a much better driver than me.

Society doubts one’s abilities with every older person’s accident. Actually, I am a much better driver in retirement than I was at a younger age. I am not in a hurry. I follow the speed limits. I’m not frustrated by delay. I also worry about the fact that I need to share the driving with my wife so she keeps her skills and confidence up to date.  

I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose my licence. I read about 92 year old Shiela Hancock passing the Advanced Motorist Driving Test. I believe in preparing and fighting. I am looking at enrolling my wife and I on the Advanced Driver Course. We need new challenges in retirement and this would be a useful thing to do.

This morning at 6.00 am, I managed to be in Knaresborough to talk to Peter Holgate, in Bolton to talk to David Weatherly, in Leeds to talk to Kevin and in Bridlington to talk to Nigel all in a matter of minutes. This lunchtime, I have been in Wales to talk to my old friend Dave Beaseley and, this afternoon, I am in Boston, Massachusetts talking to Jonathan. The magic carpet of the internet is wonderful!

Friday, 18th December, 2025

Glorious morning with deep, low sunshine that blinded me as I drove my Housekeeper to the Hairdresser’s. It is a journey that involves crossing a railway line and it is always a nightmare at 8.30 am. Today, it was especially busy. Unusually for well past mid-December, I will be spending the morning grass mowing and edging to smarten the street up for my neighbours for Christmas. It has been and continues to be so mild that the grass has really grown.

If you are a regular reader of the Blog or even just catch up with it occasionally, Dear Reader, you will know that I am not a secretive man. I am not reticent or worried about what people think. I don’t mediate my thoughts through political consideration. I say what I am doing, thinking and feeling in a fairly unvarnished way. Yes, I sometimes put a bit of a spin on it but mostly it is fairly stream of consciousness. I am unapologetic about its ordinariness, its mundanity. It is a catalogue of every day activities which we all do punctuated by shafts of light and shades of darkness that accompany the highs and lows of a life.

Because you could say my life is an open book, you could also characterise me as naive, emotionally unsophisticated, vulnerable, politically inept. I plead guilty to each and every one of those charges. It takes some serious stupidity to lay one’s life, hopes and fears out in a public place and not to worry about attack and ridicule. I am that seriously stupid. What it doesn’t prepare you for is where those painful humiliations arise. When I was going through a scary cancer treatment, I was shocked to find some friends ‘disappeared’ when I most needed them. Can you imagine? I could never do that although you do hear of it.

The more difficult exponents of the heartless arts follow The Prince of Darkness – no not Peter Mandelson – Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli (1469 – 1527). He is often acknowledged as the progenitor of modern political philosophy and political science. Machiavelli’s political theory argued in Il Principe / The Prince that deceit was an important tenet of maintaining control and retaining power. Current politicians refer to these Machiavellian methods in observations like: Speak softly but carry a big stick, Smile to their face while stabbing them in the back and Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. It is an ugly calling.

Of course, ultimately, they get found out. We don’t need the Freedom of Information Act. They trip themselves up when they least expect it. We all learn and move on but life is just one more bit diminished, which is sad.

On the upside, the day is really warm and sunny. The lawns are cut and manicured. Returning neighbours say it smells like Summer again and the perfume of cut grass is evocative. I have quite enjoyed the exercise and the effect on the area. It doesn’t take much to please me. Machiavelli take note! What I will do in 2026, I’m not sure. I need a new lawnmower but I personally don’t have any real grass. Am I prepared to spend £600.00 to take care of my neighbour’s lawns? We will see! Machiavelli is already calculating the political value.

Saturday, 20th December, 2025

While God Squadders were earnestly looking for a star in the East, my little astronaut was gazing lovingly to the South where we are having spectactular displays from the International Space Station. It has been over our garden (Are they spying?) for a number of nights now.

Last night I was too lazy to go outside even though it was very warm. I took photos with my phone through the window glass – not the best method – at actual size and 100x zoom and then increased twice again on my computer. You can see the square inner shape created by the solar panels which generate the power to maintain it. Apparently, even though it shone incredibly brightly in the night sky, it was high enough to still catch the sun’s rays.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed but the most recently filmed dramas include lots of overhead filming. (You’ll notice it now.) because of the popularity, ease and cheapness of drone photography. Yesterday was the most gorgeous day and our area looked wonderful. I didn’t take these but a local drone photographer took these lovely shots of the Marina, River Arun and the shoreline in Littlehampton. I wish I had taken them.

And so it is just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
most of the time

Another wonderfully warm and sunny day. I’ve got a bit of grass cutting to complete while my Under Gardener cleans out the flower beds then a full Gym session accompanied by a football match on TNT Sports while Chef prepares Roast Chicken & Sage & Onion Stuffing for Supper tonight. Life’s hard but it’s not that hard!

Sunday, 7th December, 2025

What a horrible morning – dark and wet – but at least it’s warm. Didn’t fall below 12C/54F over night. Still, it doesn’t make me want to go out.

Two birthdays to celebrate this morning. The Blog is 18 today. I was only 56 when I started it. It has seen some real lows and some wonderful highs. Of course, by its very nature, it contains much that is ordinary and unremarkable.

If you stick with it, Dear Reader, it will help you sleep although I do try to amuse and to be prevocative at times. If you are a regular reader and you have my sympathies, you will feel my joy and pain, my patterns of life and inconsistencies. In short, you will see an ordinary man laying out his life before you. Hope to see you this time next year and every year until 2051.

The other birthday is that of young David. He is 28 today. Do you remember when you were 28, Dear Reader? A year of weddings and new challenges. Anyway, we wish David a happy day even though it is pouring with rain in London. It sounds like we are going to have a warm but very wet week ahead. So, that’ll be something to write about, won’t it?

At the beginning of the year, I decided that I would trial doing without our landline. We both have smartphones with unlimited calls, texts and data. It seemed over kill to have a landline which just duplicated that service. First couple of weeks felt a bit strange but this morning I realised that it wasn’t even an issue today. Like the loss of High Street Banking, Landlines are yesterday’s technology which we just need a nudge to abolish.

Our contracts with EE for smartphones are up in a couple of months and they will offer us new models. We have Samsung S24 Ultras and I will almost certainly choose S25s or S26s as an upgrade. We will be able to trade our existing phones in for about £450.00 each which will contribute to the new 18 month contracts at about £180.00 per month for the two.

What I could never abolish is this piece of music that makes me cry instantly I hear it. The opening Aria from Handel’s opera Xerxes – commonly know as Largo. It throws me back to 1973 spontaneously and a grubby flat in a grubby street in a grubby town in a grubby world. I am playing it now in my comfortable Office in a comfortable street in a comfortable town in a comfortable world but I am still crying. I have lost so much.

Monday, 8th December, 2025

The morning is dry and fairly bright. Incredibly warm for December. I’ve got an early appointment for a diabetic rhetinopathy eye scan – the last real medical testing of the year. It involves pupil expanding drops so I’m not allowed to drive. My chauffeur is only too pleased to get her hands on the wheel.

This is another fantastic service that I am offered. Every year they contact me and push me to be scanned and photographed to see if there is any change. I always go although I do worry about it because a fellow student who is the same age as me lost his driving licence when deterioration was found in his sight. Anyway, all is well. The feedback was immediate and positive so I get to drive for another year.

The problem is that the enlarged pupils because of the drops means seeing is painful for some hours to come. The sky suddenly feels electric and so painful. Plus, I can’t read or write which is a nightmare. Anyway, now all I have to be concerned about is the body scan report which won’t be until the beginning of February unless they spot an emergency.

After what seemed like an age, I was able to complete my 28th consecutive Christmas Newsletter ready for printing and placing in cards for posting. If you were getting anxious about your card, Dear Reader. Don’t worry. It will be with you soon.

Tuesday, 9th December, 2025

A grey morning but a frantic start. Gifts ordered for friends – mainly cases of wine – being delivered and delivery men are contacting me. I began to wonder why I’d bothered. Then the task was printing 50 newsletters, 65 address labels and putting stamps on 60 envelopes. Do you know how much 50 x 2nd class stamps cost these days – £43.50! It wasn’t helped by my knocking a glass of coffee over my keyboard but a little woman rushed to my rescue and I was up and typing again in hours.

Amazon may be delivering my Christmas presents to friends but I couldn’t resist sending myself some with the same service. I have written before of a friend of mine who had his car stolen from his drive this time last year. It took months for him to get back on his ….. wheels. I bought a Faraday Box from Amazon to shelter our car fobs. Today, we went one stage further with a Faraday Card Holder to protect our Financial Accounts particularly when travelling abroad. Might be overkill but you never know.

Went out to an active beach where birds were searching urgently for food. It was absolutely wonderful to be there and smell the change, hear the shoreline shift with every ebb and flow of the heavy tide. It is important that we accept that Life does not stay the same. It moves and changes constantly in a state of flux. We should be constantly looking for new beginnings, Dear Reader. Resistance is pointless.

Wednesday, 10th December, 2025

Lovely bright and very warm morning. Going out walking in the sunshine to make the most of it. Alexa read the jobs for the day to me. It included ordering fish for Christmas. Our meal will be a Fish Platter including King Scallops, Langoustines and Fish Goujons which will use Tusk Fish, a Lobster flavoured white fish from the Indian Ocean. At 5.30 am, I also listened to a podcast about the attacks on European Liberal Polity by the Trump-led, Far Right movement in America and about Trump’s increasingly autocratic attempts to control the media.

You may have heard or read of the battle for the Media outlets in America at the moment. It is happening because of the change in accessing news and entertainment over my lifetime. In the 1950s, Mum & Dad had a shiny, walnut cased radiogram sitting proudly on a shiny, walnut table in the Lounge. They listened to the BBC Home Service. It was piped through to a huge speaker on the wall in the Dining Room & Kitchen which was quite advanced for those days. They listened to the Today program that dominates my mornings now and which first came on air in 1957. They listened to The Archers in the evening and Sing Something Simple on Sunday afternoons.

In the 1960s, my brother Bob bought an old, valve radio in a jumble sale and we listened to Dick Barton, Special Agent drama and ‘pop’ music – Pick of the Pops with Alan Freeman on Sunday afternoons. It was on this tatty old box with a fraying speaker cover that I read the place names I dreamed of visiting – Prague, Strasbourg, Brussells, Lyon, Oslo, Warsaw … Oh, let me go … and where I first heard The Moody Blues, Go Now. It was an old radio that really spoke to me.

We didn’t even have a television until after I had left home although I watched Doctor Who and Dixon of Dock Green at my Grandparents’ house on Saturday evening. In those days, Television & Radio was totally linear. You either accessed them when they were broadcast or not at all. Time-shift suddenly became possible in the late 1970s when video recorders first came on the market. I had only been married a year and just bought our first colour television. I chose a Betamax Video Recorder. I have always been an early adopter of technology and sometimes suffered because of it. I loved the machine but it was soon dropped in favour of the VHS process.

We increasingly gathered more control over the process of accessing media. Sky came along having pushed out BSkyB. I had an early satellite installed and everything changed. Suddenly, we had extra channels and could choose when to watch programs. Time shift was almost built in to reception. Now, it felt like the consumer was in control and not subject to the tyranny of the scheduler. Increasingly, its capacity increased. Today I can record 6 channels while watching a 7th. I can save them and watch them whenever I want but then along comes streaming. I don’t even need to save them. They are always there to download and consume wherever I am in the world and what ever time of the day.

I can watch PMQs at 3.00 am or Gardener’s World at Lunchtime in Spain. I can download a podcast recording of the Today programme in Greece or Newspaper Review from Sky in Tenerife. The World is my Lobster, as they say. I no longer have to wait for Episode 2 of a drama to come round a week later on a Wednesday evening when I’ve already forgotten the plot of Episode 1. I can access the whole thing from BBCi Player, Netflix, Prime, ITV-X, etc when I want and binge.

Sky has huge power. Owned by Murdoch (Right Wing)and controlled along with Fox News in the States, The Times and The Sun in UK plus lots of other news outlets around the world this one family hold huge influence over how the news and politics is reported and accessed. The gullible think they are getting the facts. They are not. They are only getting the facts according to one ideology.

But now we have Trump who wants to bend the media narrative to his view of the world. We used to say the Chinese and Russian state control was Totalitarian. Trump is bidding for the same. You might laugh but this is really serious. His biggest backer, Ellison who is the 2nd richest person in the world, has a son who is trying to buy up the streaming services of Warner Bros and HBO. Trump’s son also has a stake in the industry. Trump sees a way to influence and control media output. If the Labour Government announced it was going to restrict news coverage to only what it considered appropriate, we would be up in arms. But that is what Trump is trying to acquire abroad and through that to influence other markets abroad. We should be very afraid.

Thursday, 11th December, 2025

These are strange days. Last night, when I went to bed at 11.30 pm, the sky was absolutely clear and full of the most beautiful stars. In mid-December a clear sky would mean cold temperatures and morning frosts. Throughout the night, we didn’t drop below 13C/56F. What is going on? I just don’t understand. Lovely orange sky at 7.00 am today and so the day begins.

Received news yesterday from my old friend, Kev, who had just returned from hospital after a cataract operation. Old age can be dire, can’t it Dear Reader. Oh, take my hand and help me down Cemetery Road. We all need support. I bought Kev some wine for Christmas, I’ve had to advise him to sit down to drink it if he’s still got the bandages on.

On a much more serious and devastating level, I had a message this morning from one of my sisters that my Brother-in-Law, Kevan, has fairly advanced bowel cancer and is being operated on next week. They have been dealing with it, I now understand, since the summer. I didn’t know. What I do know is that dealing with cancer is something that needs support of family and friends. In fact, it shows you those who actually care. We will be thinking of Ruth & Kevan over the next few days in their hour of need.

I am so grateful to be healthy enough to walk on the beach this morning with the salty sea spray rising in the warm breeze and the sad refrain in my head …

And so it is just like you said it should be
We’ll both forget the breeze
Most of the time

Life is so fragile and unpredictable that urgency is the key. Don’t hold back; Don’t take No for an answer; Don’t put off. Advocate for yourself and be up front with what you want out of life. This life is not a rehearsal. It is the only one we will get.

Of course, it may all be pointless if the Head of NATO – Marc Rutte is right in what he warned of this morning. To anyone from my Generation, talk of World War is very stark and very real. What it will mean is diverting money from Societal Services towards preparing for war by building up our Defences. It may be very different this time with Drones and Cyber tools being built, stocked and deployed, with less man power and hard machinery like tanks, etc, being used.

More than ever, the older generation who won’t be called on to fight may find themselves being left to struggle because the State will not have the funding for Social Care. We need to build up our Resilience both at State and Personal levels. Difficult times are coming. May be time to baton down the hatches.

Friday, 12th December, 2025

Another lovely, warm morning. I am chauffeuring a client to the Beautician’s for 9.00 am. Hard to believe what wonderful times these are. Who knows, we may get away without a Winter at all. Having said that, there is a Winter of Discontent in the international air.

Yesterday, I was writing about the NATO Chief warning about a new World War in the next 5 years. This morning a number of articles have followed up with the argument that it has already started but that we are wilfully trying to ignore it.

The power blocs are flexing their muscles – Russia in Europe, China all around the world economically but militarily in East Asia and Hong Kong and Taiwan specifically, America all around the world economically but militarily in South America and Venezuela specifically, Israel militarily in West Asia and Palestine and Iran specifically, India militarily in South Asia and Pakisatan and Afghanistan specifically. It feels like the tectonic plates are shifting and we are going to have to address them not later but NOW. The time of the Peace Dividend is over.

Russia is already showing its military intent in Europe with invasion of Ukraine now being pushed further out with drones across Poland and Rumania, Fighter planes entering Estonia, drones in Denmark and Norway, poisonings on British soil and multiple threatening of essential undersea pipelines and cables.

The world is ever more connected. Power, natural gas, oil, and of course the internet all rely on undersea infrastructure. Data centers and nuclear power plants could go the same way. A victim of future wars might be your internet connection when a cable is cut or your heating bill as a gas pipeline or electricity cable is blown up and these events might take place thousands of miles away, and hundreds of meters below sea level. 

The ludicrous contrast between these two positions – Chauffeuring a girl back from a Beauty Treatment and contemplating World War III is not lost on me and it was ever thus. WW2 was met with incredulity and denial right up to the point of declaration. We were still entertaining the idea of appeasement and desperate to believe nothing was going to happen. I was shocked to find that, in 1938, a facial treatment often took place in a beauty salons which were growing in popularity at the time and social life was booming until …. it suddenly wasn’t. Don’t say you haven’t been warned.

Going out for a walk to clear my head. I can’t change the situation other than by putting forward views and casting my vote. I can really only fight for myself and my life. As I wrote yesterday, strong self advocacy is our only tool. I try to rely on no one for my health and wealth. I try to take control and argue and fight for what I want and need. The thing is to be strong and never give up. Don’t hide from signs of illness. Demand help urgently. Don’t expect State Handouts. Save, Invest and Build Financial Resilience. The world is an insecure place. The world is where we live.

Saturday, 13th December, 2025

Glorious day although a little cool start. Out walking under clear, blue skies with a long, low, strong sun. Everywhere looks painted with primary colours. The starkness of the sky set against the luscious grass below.

Delivery vans are everywhere and constantly at the moment in this affluent Development. Nobody has time to go to the shops. Even at the weekend, they are out in the garden basking in steaming hot tubs, browsing Amazon for presents. Our neighbours are cash rich and time poor. Badly paid and poorly treated delivery men drive round in demented frenzy delivering orders almost before they were ordered.

I am walking and observing and being observed as I tour the Development and then leave for the huge park outside. It is all very quiet. Nobody stiring at 10.00 am. They are all exhausted after their weeks. I, of course, am not exhausted. I want to be but have to push myself through exercise to replicate a week’s work. After a 90 mins walk outside, I will finish off in the Gym where I am watching a gripping political-espionage Drama on Disney+ of all places.

This is just my sort of interest. Espionage and Politics blended into intrigue with an intelligent plot I can lose myself in and forget the workout pain. Deep State will keep me going over Christmas with 16 hours of storyline.

Meanwhile, Chef is in the kitchen icing three Christmas Cakes, steaming a second Christmas Pudding, preparing to roast a chicken with broccoli, carrots and parsnips and making sage & onion stuffing to accompany it for Supper tonight. She is watching Strictly Come Dancing at the same time. I have no idea how that is possible. Personally, I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than even turn it on but each to their own.

The disparity in our tastes may well be a guide to our enjoyment of another drama which we are jointly watching in the Lounge in the evening. The Revenge Club is lovely, light but captivating stuff which can be found on Paramount+. It features six divorcees who are harbouring a sadness but also a grudge against their exes for the way they have been treated.

They meet at a Divorce Support Group and come to the agreement that they will collectively support each individual to seek revenge upon their former partners. Seems reasonable and is great fun. I think my wife is planning already.

I am consuming media avidly all day at the moment. Apart from the two Dramas described above, I was listening to a fascinating political podcast at 5.00 am today. It was about an obscure American populist politician called Huey Long who was Govenor and Senataor for Louisiana in the 1930s. He was a strange contradiction of a man who veered between Stalinism, and McCarthyism but was a natural politician.

The first time Huey Long campaigned in rural Catholic South Louisiana, his agent reminded him that he was from North Louisiana and he was now in the south where he had to appeal to the large Catholic vote. He acknowledged it and throughout the day, he started his campaign speeches with this story:

When I was a boy, I would get up at 6.00 am on Sunday and hitch our old horse up to the buggy and I would take my Catholic Grandparents to mass. After mass, I would bring them home and at 10.00 am, I would hitch our old horse back up to the buggy and I would take my Baptist Grandparents to church.

The effect of the anecdote on the audience was electric and on the drive back home after campaigning, his manager said to Huey, I didn’t know you had any Catholic Grandparents.
Don’t be damn fool, replied Huwey. We didn’t even have a horse.

The point of the anecdote is that it doesn’t matter how good your intentions or how intellectual your approach, politics is a craft that you either learn or you fail. Keir Starmer is a good man with intellectual strength but he lacks the guile and statecraft of a politician. If he doesn’t learn it quickly, he will be replaced.

Sunday, 30th November, 2025

It is 6.00 am and I am sitting outside with a glass of fresh orange juice and a cup of tea at a table on the patio. It is warm, humid even but the difference is that the sky is dark and there are myriad bright stars looking down on me.

Travelling home for Christmas. Well, not exactly but we are travelling home. Easyjet have contacted me to say everything is on time which is good news. Going to the Airport. Just 15 mins to Tenerife South–Reina Sofía Airport. Off toMontaña Roja VIP Lounge and then wait to be called. It will come up on my smartphone app. Then we’ve got 4 hrs 30 mins flight home. Already prepared for that with things to watch from Netflix downloaded on our iPads to melt the time away.

Yesterday we signed off this month’s visit by revisiting the property we have rented for the whole of November 2026. It is a 2 bed/2 bath apartment in a newly developed and still developing gated community higher up from the sea.

The area looks and feels nice and will be interesting to try. Hopefully, the 2nd phase will be completed by in the next 12 months and I will still be alive. We will be 75 by then. The price for a month is € 4676.00 or currently £4,100.00. We don’t pay until next October so who knows what the exchange rate will be then.

At the airport, everything went smoothly. Straight through security although my travelling comapanion was randomly tested for explosives. I wasn’t surprised! The flight was right on time and landed early.

It was dark and just 3C/37F as we drove home. We had bought pizzas and fresh milk in the M&S at the airport for Supper. I opened a bottle of Prosecco to accompany the lump of post which had appeared behind the door. I had put the heating on as we left Tenerife and the house felt warm and welcoming as we walked in.

Monday, 1st December, 2025

New day, new week, new month, new season, new country, new house, new bed. At least I’ve got there still breathing. Hope you are well too, Dear Reader. The calendar start of Winter. The first day of December 2025.

Why is it so dark, wet and cold? I was woken at 5.45 am by two alarms. I took time to realise what was happening. Abroad, my phone alarm goes off at that time. I turn it off and then make it play BBC Radio 4. At home on the South Coast, Alexa sounds the alarm at that time, announces the time to me and then automatically turns on BBC Radio 4. This morning both processes happened at the same time.

Abroad, I check my phone for what is on my calendar for the day and what the weather is outside. At home, Alexa announces what the weather is outside when asked and goes on to read out the items for the day on my calendar.

Today, there are 5 items on my Calendar – I use an online calendar which can be read on my computer, my iPad, my smartphone, my watch and picked up by Alexa to read out to me. My Housekeeper can also pick up the same calendar on her devices so she knows what tasks I have set her to complete. Unfortunately, I have had to allow her to edit and add tasks for me to complete as well. Usually, as you would imagine, the tasks are not earth shattering althogh sometimes they are important.

Today, it contains mundane things like Black Bin Day / Window Cleaner Coming but it also includes Renew Car Insurance / Renew Free Carparking Disc / Collect Prescription and Book Airport Lounge (for the next trip). I’ve got a busy week ahead which includes a trip to Worthing Urology Department for a Cystoscopy (Really looking forward to that.), a trip to the dentist to have a crown fitted (Really looking forward to paying for that.) and a trip to the Southlands Oncology Department to have a full body scan prior to my prostate review (Really looking forward to what that might find.).

One thing I have to sort out with some urgency today is a PIR lamp that is mounted above our garage and helps light up when I enter the drive as well as serve as a deterent to thieves. Almost as soon as we went away, our neighbours alerted us that it had come on and stayed on and there was nothing they could do to turn it off. It was on for a month. I have to either sort it out myself or get an electrician to help.

Of course, after a month away from home, there is also the inevitable trip to Sainsburys to restock the fridge and freezer.

Tuesday, 2nd December, 2025

Nice, bright blue sky this morning but a little chilly at just 11C/52F. Still, I’m going out for my walk in shorts. I’m warmed up by the financial largesse that has come my way today. Our bank account has received £220.00 from the government for our heating allowances and Christmas Bonuses. Absolutely bonkers but I’m not giving it back.

The latest Premium Bond winnings are confirmed this morning and we have received this month’s winnings of £125.00 to bring a total of £250.00 for the first 3 months. This means that I am on course for a tax free return of 5.6% which is fine. Of course, I am still hoping to get lucky before I end the experiment. £50,000? £100,000?? £1,000,000????? Now that would be a good return Tax Free.

If these people can do it, I can. Now, what would I do with the winnings? Don’t call me, Dear Reader. I’ll call you … probably.

One of the benefits of going away is seeing one’s own home through fresh eyes. It is so easy to take for granted the places and people and objects around one as familiarity dulls the senses. Out walking today, the area around my house was vivid and fresh, beautiful and vibrant. The grass is absolutely gorgeous – almost good eough to eat.

My car was wonderful to drive back from the airport. I love it and all its facilities and gadgets. I love its silent, smooth comfort, the smell of the leather seats and the quality of the hi-fi. It takes a month away from it to realise. I love my bathroom. The secret of a happy marriage is individual bathrooms. I love my shower. I haven’t found a better one abroad. I especially love my Office. I can’t live without it for too long.

Just to ensure I keep appreciating what I’ve got, I’ve booked lots of time away for 2026. In fact, I’m alreading thinking I must run the future bookings through the calculator of 90 days out in any 180 days. A week in Greece in June. A month in Spain June-July. A week in Greece in August. A month in Tenerife in November. Need to slot 2 or 3 short trips to France in over the year as well. So you can see the dilemma.

I am out at the hospital tomorrow for something that sounds excruciatingly unpleasant but must be faced. Hopefully, there will be no cancer found. While medics check that end of the body, my wife is obsessed with protecting the other extremity. She has bought me some more caps because she says I spend so much time outside in the sunshine walking that scalp damage could lead to a cancer up there. She says that but she has been so surprised that I look good in a cap. I think it’s a sexual thing really!

Wednesday, 3rd December, 2025

Bright and sunny start to the day but it has a looming darkness for me. This afternoon, my first Christmas present of the week – a Cystoscopy at Worthing Urology. I am going to receive a local anaesthetic apparently but I can’t decide what will be worse – having a tube shoved up a tender area or a needle in it first. I may send my wife in instead. She’s braver than me.

I’d rather cancel Christmas altogether than receive presents like this. We’ve come home to Christmas lights everywhere – on people’s houses which I will never understand and the trees of the village green which I can almost accept. The TV adverts really do illustrate the tawdry nature of the event although I have long been in love with Kiera Knightly and her Waitrose advert certainly brings some joy to the occasion.

To take my mind off this afternoon, I walked on the beach which certainly didn’t look like December. I walked on the beach in England in December in shorts and tee shirt perfectly comfortably.

Well the Cystoscopy turned out to be a breeze. Don’t know what you were all worrying about. It might be a camera on a cable up the willy but it’s simple and quick. I had experienced a scary event where I had passed loads of blood. I was terrified of this procedure but it was great in reality. I had a local anaesthetic which was a squirt of liquid and then I lay back and watched them (three girls) explore my bladder and kidneys. The viewing on the big screen was wonderful. Everything was healthy and clear. They said my bloody wee was probably the result of radiotherapy on my prostate. They did say that I had an exceptionally large bladder. No girl has ever said that to me before. I felt quite proud, Dear Reader.

Thursday, 4th December, 2025

Out early this morning to the dentist. I was having a crown fitted. Actually, I was having a crown designed, built and fitted. It was a two hour job. In the past, it would have been a two week job where the mouth was prepared, x-rayed and that sent off to a dental technician to create a porcelain crown which would be delivered back to the dentist and the patient would return and have it fitted.

Now, my dentist does everything herself with a two hour span. The mouth is prepared, x-rayed and that x-ray sent to the 3-D printer which uses diamond cutters on a porcelain block with water jets spraying to keep the process cool. It is fantastic and they were obviously proud of the process. They wanted me to watch my tooth being printed to understand their pride in it. The x-ray machine cost £160,000 and the printer a mere £57,000. It is a considerable outlay. No wonder they charge so much for the crown process. It was lots of work and then the cost of the instruments. I suddenly thought £750.00 was a reasonable charge.

It is the run up to Christmas and although I really am a Bah Humbug Cumugeon, I realise contact with distant friends and relatives is important. You may have not seen me for years, Dear Reader, but at least you’ll receive a card this Christmas. If you’re not a Blog reader, you will also get a Newsletter. There is no escape. Today I am writing to my Doctor from the 1990s. I went to see him about a bad back in 2000. He wasn’t very interested in my back but he did want to buy my house which I had put on the market. I had been in it for 16 years. It was set in an acre of land and in a Conservation area. We had loved it but it was time to move on.

One of the first people to view it was a Huddersfield Town footballer but he was soon transferred to Sheffield United and dropped out from the sale. Then came the Doctor. He and his wife have lived happily there for 25 years but now have sold and moved on. Our first Christmas card this year is from the Doctor giving us his new address in Norfolk, ironically a place where Pauline’s family have lots of connections.

Last week I was writing about the Teachers’ Pension Scheme website alerting me to changes to my tax arrangements. I was also talking about trying to move as much of our savings and investments in to the tax-free shelter of ISAs. It was rumoured that the Chancellor would reduce the amount we could shelter from £40,000.00 ( 2 x £20,000.00) to £24,000.00 (2 x £12,000.00) each year. In the event, she saw reason and kept the larger allowance for over 65s as I suggested would be reasonable.

I was also writing about the much larger tax-take we were paying because investments had been paying so much more over the past 2-3 years. We were informed that we had not paid enough tax and we were charged a considerable back-tax burden. I chose not to challenge it because our unearned income had become so pleasing.

Imagine our delight this morning to be told that we had over paid tax by quite some amount. From this month and before we even receive a pay/pension rise in April, the tax office/teachers’ pensions have informed us that our joint monthly income will increase by £1,100.00 per month or £13,200.00 per year. It beats a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, Dear Reader. Might have to book another couple of foreign trips for next year.

Friday, 5th December, 2025

The moon last night was huge. This December supermoon is particularly special: astronomers say a full moon this close to Earth won’t be visible again until 2042 when we will be 91 years old. We have to be there to witness.

Apparently it is known as the Cold Moon because of the season – according to the Astronomer Royal who lives with me. She is obsessed with celestial bodies which is probably why she married me. The garden was bathed in light all night and there is a trace of frost this morning. Winter really must be here.

My Chef has made three Christmas Cakes – not because we will eat three but just because she can. Two will be given to other people while the third will sit in a cake tin in our house while we diet. Today, marzipan, icing and cake decorations will be bought and her delights will start. This year the theme will be golden and I’ve just had to order these decorations from Amazon. Bah Humbug!

Tomorrow I am having a full body CAT (CT) Scan. If I had bought that Privately it would have cost me about £800.00. This week I’ve also had a Flexible Cystoscopy. If I had bought that Privately, it would have cost abround £2,200.00. Earlier in the year, I had a Colonoscopy. If I had bought that Privately, it would have cost around £3,000.00. I will also have had two PSA Tests at a cost of about £100.00 privately. So, our wonderful NHS has provided me with about £6,100.00 worth of medical care not to mention Consultation fees and it was all free at the point of delivery. And there are mad Right Wing Racists advocating American style Health Care.

Saturday, 6th December, 2025

The end of what has felt like quite a long week which started in Tenerife and has ended in a body scanner in Brighton. Had to be there for 10.00 am but the hospital is near Brighton so set off at 9.00 am in case there was a problem parking. Also, I had to drink a litre of water before the scan and I didn’t want that sitting inside me for longer than necessary.

Hospitals and Doctors’ Surgeries are totally different places since the pandemic which forced them to invoke new controls on patient flows. This morning, I arrived at the carpark at 9.30 am to find it almost empty. Charges for parking had been cancelled and I had time to drink a litre of water and listen to a political podcast.

With my belly sloshing water, I walked down to the Diagnostic and Radiology Department. I saw no one apart from two security guards as I walked through the corridors until I found the waiting area which was completely deserted. Eventually, a Chinese man called me at the Department door. He told me his name which I didn’t really catch and led me into a treatment room. It is at that point that the first of many times in the process I am asked my date of birth and first line of my address and then the cannula is fitted in my arm.

The Chinese man is immediately embarrassed because blood spurts out all over the chair and down my arm over my hand. Are you on blood thinners, he asks. He obviously hadn’t read my notes. Anyway, he cleaned me up and staunched the flow of very, very red blood. I was led into the CT Theatre and lay on the scanner bed. Chinaman once again asked my date of birth and first line of my address and then warned me that the contrast dye was being connected to the cannula and suddenly the warm wash of fluid flowed down from head to foot.

And then just three or so minutes of being shunted back and forth with a recorded voice telling me to old my breath and breath normally again and it was all over. A little Chinese girl appeared to hold my hand and help me off the bed. She asked my date of birth and first line of my address – in case I had forgotten over the past couple of minutes. They forced me to wait 10 mins in a side room in case the dye injection affected my system and that was it – all over for another 12 months. I walked out and still didn’t see another human being until I got to the carpark and a woman was just parking. It is hard to understand.

So, this long week has gone from Tenerife – Gatwick on Sunday to Cystoscopy at Worthing on Wednesday to 2 hrs of Dental work on Thursday to CT Scan today and I have just been phoned to ask me to go for my annual Diabetic Eye check on Monday. I am either a complete basket case or I’m going to be very, very healthy.

Back home, it is my job to do the paperwork – to turn my mind to Xmas Newsletter and Card List. We still can’t allow the post to go. All year, I am texting, emailing, Whatsapping, Tweeting, Blogging, etc but Xmas cards and newsletter are a tradition that I can’t quite let go of. We used to send around 70 cards each year. I think we will be down to around 50 this year. Death is very final, Dear Reader and age has meant some people not keeping up with the digital world. If you can believe it, a few people don’t read the Blog. So, I produce a newsletter and have done since at least 1997. I have copies going back that far and I wrote informal ones to individuals before that. I get lots of newsletters back and enjoy reading them.

Yesterday, out of the blue we received this huge book. It spoke to both of our interests and looked as if it was a spcifically chosen present but without any acknowlegement or message. It is fantastic with wonderful Spanish meals we will definitely cook. Who sent it? I have no idea. I do know that it would cost me £35.00 to buy on Amazon. If you sent it, let me know because I love it and would like to say thank you.

Sunday, 23th November, 2025

It always amuses me that, when I move my life abroad for a month or so, I have to establish similar patterns to the ones I have at home. I have watched the Sunday morning political programmes. My Housekeeper is washing bedsheets and drying them in the sunshine. Today is especially hot and sunny. We are 28C/82F. In UK, it is my job to take the Refuse out. We have 3 bins lined up out of site down the blind side of the house – a green one for Recycle, a black one for General Rubbish and a brown one for Gardening Waste.

The Recycle rules are so arcane that I find them too ridiculous to take seriously. Jam jars have to be washed clean whereas Bleach bottles don’t. Different kinds of toothpaste tube are treated differently. I’m a man and cannot be bothered with that. My Housekeeper takes it all so seriously that I joke she wants to wash and iron everything before throwing it away. It’s a nonsense.

Here on Tenerife, I throw away rubbish every morning in communal bins and there is no Recycling at all. You find this on mountainous islands who fill craters with their rubbish for decades until they realise space is finite and rubbish is toxic. In mainland Spain, Recycling Hubs were everywhere and it is nice to have a holiday from it here.

If it wasn’t for people in general and tourists in particular, Tenerife would be beautiful. It has a wonderful climate that allows them to grow so many fascinating plants and so much of their own food. It has a beautiful shoreline, breath-taking mountains and wonderful skies.

Walking today in the hot sunshine has been down and around the busy Marina where Sunday crowds are queueing to get on excursions to watch Dolphins, to go fishing or deep sea diving. Most just want to chug across the water to the always visible island of La Gomera. I will not be joining them.

Monday, 24th November, 2025

Three years ago we were in Florida with high expectations of life. Then life bit back. One day I was walking 10 miles a day. Suddenly I was ill. The next day, I couldn’t walk at all. I had contracted Atypical Pneumonia or Legionnaires Disease. I had to fly home early and went through a month of tests before a successful diagnosis.

Sometimes good can come out of bad, fortune from misfortune. My wife takes medical health incredibly seriously. It was 40  years ago that she insisted I went to my female Doctor to ask for a Prostate check. I regretted it immediately as a finger was inserted unceremoniously but I was pronounced clear. Fifteen years ago, my wife sent me to my male Doctor with the same demand. He said, I get up in the night to pee as well. It means nothing. and he refused me the test. To be honest, I was quite relieved.

Three years ago, on the back of my Legionnaires Disease tests which involved lots of blood and urine samples, my wife casually requested that I be tested for PSA or prostate health. That started a process which undoubtedly saved my life. I was found to have two cancers in my prostate. One was fairly benign and slow growing. The sort which says you will die of something else long before this kills you. The other was an aggressive, fast developing tumour which would have broken out and spread to my bones within the year.

I had 8 months of Hormone Treatment to shrink the prostate and deny the tumour sustenance and a month of Radiotherapy to destroy the tumour – hopefully for good. After my last session on the Radiotherapy bed I was bursting because of the water you have to drink and retain. I thanked the nurses, rushed to the toilet and broke down in floods of tears. It was the most incredibly emotional moment when the dam burst in more ways than one.

I have stayed cancer-free so far. When I go back to UK next week, I will have a PSA blood test – the second this year. It will be followed by a full body MRI scan – the second since the end of my treatment. Hopefully, my Oncology Review will be good news but there is always that niggling doubt. Has it returned? Was a small bit missed? Do I have a natural proclivity to produce cancer? And it is suddenly hitting the news on a regular basis. David Cameron is the latest survivor who was saved by his wife’s insistence. I certainly wouldn’t allow myself to be denied again.

Tuesday, 25th November, 2025

Another cloudless, blue, sunny sky to greet the day in this last week of November. Lovely backdrop against which to live one’s life. Pity you didn’t come with me, Dear Reader. Still, we can’t have everything. Yesterday’s walk took me past the beach, busy with sun worshippers.

Turning back to the mountains, the sky was very different. It is easy to forget how close to Africa we are and yesterday the winds brought the North African coast drifting across the Canarian mountains.

The Sahara sand was gritty in my mouth as I walked and the mountains hazy with the sandy air. The best solution to sand in the mouth, of course, is to rinse it with cold, white wine and my Housekeeper insists on crisps to accompany that.

I am not a fan of crisps but she is and says the ones she is getting here are probably the best she has ever had. Being a Home Economist and cook, she analyses everything she buys. She wants to know what type of potatoes are used and what oil they are cooked in. If it’s not on the packet, I am set to find out on the web.

Not only are these crisps from Mercadona just their own brand but very cheap. They are fried in Olive Oil which impresses my Cook but I can’t find the potato type. Still, even I enjoyed a few.

This island is so reliant on English tourists that you could be forgiven for thinking it was UK in the Sun. So much of the commerce panders to the Brits who want the sunshine and cheap prices – Beer at £1.76 per pint for example – but don’t want to engage with foreign culture like foods and language. The Specials Board at Old Bob’s Meet & Eat proudly advertises Sausage, Mash & Gravy for €9.00. You can’t get more Spanish than that! Well, you can. You could spend your evening in Paddy’s Pub or The Kebab Shop.

Shops here are advertising Black Friday Bargains as if they are on Oldham High Street. I don’t know if you fall for it, Dear Reader, but this old man with an eye for a bargain knows a con when he sees it.

Interesting article in The Times this morning about the nonsense that is Black Friday. The consumer group, Which, have been monitoring prices for months leading up to it and found bargains, as we suspected, are not bargains at all. A large majority of items were cheaper before the sale. John Lewis are one of the worst offenders with Black Friday deals that are no better, and often worse, than prices available at other times of the year.

They feature this robot vacuum cleaner. We have two of exactly this model – one upstairs and one downstairs. It is £50.00 more in the sale than it was prior to it. This is the Farage of consumerism. Do not believe what you are being sold.

Wednesday, 26th November, 2025

A cloudy start to the morning. Actually makes quite a nice change. Still 22C/70F and very comfortable. The North of England was a bone chilling -3/27F over night and even the South Coast went down to 3C/37F.

Most visitors here come for one thing – the weather and when it is underwhelming they look a little sad and lost for things to do. There are two, basic responses. The first is to run for a bar. You actually see people here with a Full English Breakfast and a pint of beer. Can you imagine it? The other response is stoicism. We’ve come to sit on the beach and that’s what we’re going to do, come what may.

My life just continues in its normal pattern. Wake at 5.45 am to listen to BBC Radio 4. Up at 7.00 am for fresh orange juice and tea. Start Blog and talk to friends across the world. Go out for 8 mile walk. Here, I have added a 30 mins swim as well.

Get home in time to watch political programmes at mid day. Today is extra special because of the Budget. Very exciting … although I am aware that to many this is as mad as drinking beer for breakfast. I have been working hard all year to mitigate the effects of today’s Budget on our Finances.

Particularly, I have been sheltering our investments/savings in tax-free units. This has mainly involved moving to ISA wrappings. Over the past few years, we have been able to put 2 x £20,000.00 or £40,000.00 in each year and that is what I’ve been doing. It is well trailed that this will be reduced to 2 x £12,000.00 or £24,000.00 per year from now on.

Apparently, the intention is to nudge us in to investment in stocks & shares. They are risky investments and it is unlikely to work with me. At the age of 74, I don’t have time to wait for a bounce back from a market crash which could take 10 years to recover. I did that in my 30s & 40s but not now. I can’t wait until I’m 84 to access my money.

It is a small world. As I sit on a rock just off the North African coast, I have reordered my prescription back in Angmering, reported my INR reading to the Anti-Coag. Clinic in Worthing and spoken to a lad from Rochdale who is threatening to drop in on me here tomorrow. Dave Roberts is a figure from my long distant past who is on his 5th cruise of the year. He is away from home more than I am. Mind you, if you live in Rochdale, maybe …

Watched the first 3 episodes on iPlayer of the BBC Dramatisation of Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe’s 6 year imprisonment in an Iranian Jail last night. Prisoner 951 is extremely powerful and moving, a drama of unjust separation and longing which the BBC does so well. Can’t wait to watch the final episode tonight although first there is exercise.

Thursday, 27th November, 2025

It is a lovely day. Another lovely day. I should embrace it fully like every other new day but I am feeling sad. It’s my own fault. I am too sensitive or too self indulgent. I’m also really ashamed of myself. I didn’t do my exercise routine yesterday – out of choice. I did a short walk and a swim and that was it.

Instead, I watched the final hour of the Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe story dramatized in Prisoner 951 on iPlayer. It was incredibly moving and upsetting. The obscenity of the Tory government in general and Boris Johnson in particular made me mad but the strength of the beautiful girl locked away for 6 years made me sad. The separation and the longing I found hard to deal with and yet, I always have.

It’s strange and ironic how life comes up to bite when we are most vulnerable. My memory Box chose today to do exactly that. Only a limited number of people will know the sadness of the photo above. It was taken in 1971. Within the next year, the lad on the left was dead of cancer. The lad on the right was embarking on a comfortable career that saw him become a Primary School Headteacher for 30 years. Not sure about Bob’s girlfriend.

Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe was imprisoned in a hell hole and lost 6 years of her life separated from her young daughter purely because the British Government had refused to repay the Iranian Government £400 million which they legally owed. They paid it in the end and she was released but they allowed her suffering to go on so long. Bob, through the whim of Fate had no life at all whereas Peter has prospered and is enjoying a comfortable retirement. These are unbearable disparities that have no explanation in logic.

Today is the 45th Birthday of Martin – my Brother Bob’s son. He has a son aged 45! How old would my daughter be now? Nazanin was separated from her young daughter as her breasts still leaked and then dried up. The pain was intense. It is life changing. Even though she is now reunited with her family, the rebuilding of a life together is painful and slow.

Life is so precious and fades away so quickly. My Memory Box really went for it today and gave me these two photos in Time. On the left is Pauline’s Auntie Florrie who lived in hardship in Oldham all her life. Trying so hard to be her best she presents herself against the severity of the impoverished and fading stonework of Lancashire streets. She was born in 1906 and died in 1995. Thirty years have passed and who thinks of her now other than a glancing moment in an album? On the right is Pauline’s sister who was born in 1937 and died just six months ago. Currently, her memory burns brightly in our eyes but will gently fade if we are allowed to age.

And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We’ll both forget the breeze
Most of the time ….

And so the tears flow.

Friday, 28th November, 2025

Money, Money, Money …. Don’t you just love it? The sun is up, the sky is blue, the day is waiting here for you ….. Woken up much more optimistic today.

The Budget pleased me. The Right Wing media had been speculating and screaming for months about what the Chancellor would do to hurt people. They did few of those things. I was pleased to see the regulation of and tax on Landlords which is long overdue. Having said that, The Landlord Zone itself admitted most of its fears were not realised. I was especially pleased to see that State Pensions per se will not be taxed even though the Tory tax bands are being held for three additional years. That was how the Tories did it and now they complain that Labour are doing the same. Fiscal Drag, as it is known, will cost me money but I accept it with good grace.

I was delighted that my fears over cash ISA’s were addressed. Recognising that older people cannot afford a market crash in stocks & shares, those over 65 can continue to put £20,000.00 per year into a tax shielding ISA whereas the young ones are restricted to the predicted £12,000.00 amount. The sprogs can still save £20,000.00 per year but £8,000.00 of it has to be in Stocks & Shares. So, in April 2006, I can salt away another £40,000.00 assuming I can save it which will largely depend whether I keep this car or change it.

I can’t decide on the Child Benefit Cap. Of course it is right to lift children out of poverty. No child in a relatively rich country like ours should live in poverty. However, I’m not absolutely convinced that I should be subsidising people to have kids. I don’t even like kids! I can see the case for the State safety net to be available if parents of kids fall on hard times but should it go to parents just for being parents?

I have written before that I was born on a bitter-sweet day. It was 1.00 am on April 6^th, 1951. It was bitter because, as my Dad never failed to point out, 65 minutes earlier and he would have been able to claim back child tax credit for the whole of the previous year of 1950. Sweet because, although my wife is younger than me, she receives the Old State Pension, I am able to claim the considerably higher, new state pension.

Last year we started to pay a hugely increased tax bill back-dated by two years because our savings and investments had started to pay big dividends after years in the doldrums. We didn’t challenge it but just paid up. It was too difficult to calculate across multiple investments and multiple years. Today, The Teachers’ Pension Scheme, which seems to learn first, have advised us that we are going to have quite a bit of that tax returned for overpayment. I will also have sheltered more cash as well so let’s hope that will bring some more relief.

Saturday, 29th November, 2025

Last full day of the 28 here. I shall miss the warmth. I shall miss the landscape. I shall miss the swimming. I’m looking forward to driving my own car again. I’m looking forward to seeing home again. I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again. Only this morning have I turned my mind seriously to the arrangements for leaving. My Housekeeper has been preparing for quite a while. She hates waste and has been managing and running down food since last weekend.

Today, I’ve booked the taxi, signed out of all my TV accounts – Netflix, Apple TV, Amazon Prime, etc. There was a little scare yesterday when news arrived of a problem with Airbus planes being affected by solar activity but this morning we learnt that it had been solved by a software update and our airline – Easyjet – had completed that process so our flight wouldn’t be affected. We will leave here at 9.30 am tomorrow because we’ve learned that there is some knock-on effect of the new entry/exit system. At least we don’t have bag-drop to go through so we can go straight to the Executive Lounge to hide from the crowds.

The data from the month will be 225 miles walked and 14 hours of swimming done. 56 showers 28 shaves and 28 Blog posts completed. Incalculable hours of political podcasts listened to and newspaper articles read plus one or two bottles of wine opened and emptied. My Travelling Companion reads lots of politics too. She listens to many of the podcasts I do but reads books of Fiction which I never do. Her Kindle is with her all the time and she always has a book on the go.

It is one of the most extraordinarily resilient computers I’ve ever seen. First arrived in UK 15 years ago and, although she has had a number of newer ones all still work fine. When I can’t use my iPad or laptop in the sunshine, the paperwhite screen of the Kindle remains crystal clear. When I struggled to get an internet connection of a Greek island, the Kindle continued to connect and download new books via an inbuilt and free mobile connection that comes with the purchase. It is small enough to put in a bag just like a paperback and it can carry hundreds of such books at a time in its store.

The last time I read a work of Fiction purely for pleasure as opposed to study was back in Primary School. I’ve read lots of books but they have been Faction – History, Politics, Sociology, Philosophy, Biography, etc. More often than not, my books have notes in the margins and circles around passages I need to quote later. In other words, I read with a purpose not just for entertainment or escape.

I was reminded of this at 5.30 am this morning when I listened to the latest News Agents Podcast which centred on Salman Rushdie – a controversial and political author of novels none of which I have read in its entirety. I have read extracts for information but nor for escapist pleasure. Fascinating man who holds quite similar views to me in many ways. The difference is, he has spent the last 35 years under a death sentence although, I suppose we all have in a less dramatic way.

Sunday, 16th November, 2025

Gorgeous day all round. Up early and political interview programmes before setting off for a longish walk along the coast for 6 miles. My feet were sore at the end of that. My fellow traveller was skipping because she had bought a new sun-dress en route. I had allowed it because I beat the vendor down from an exorbitant €25.00/£22.0 to €20.00/£17.60. I could almost afford that.

I sat outside the shop watching a mad English man taking his life into his hands in peril over the sea. I don’t think you would do it, Dear Reader, even if you could manage lift off. I certainly wouldn’t.

I staggered back through a hot sunshine of 27C/81F, sweating profusely and in need of a rest. I opened an ice cold bottle of White Rioja to drink with cheese and biscuits for Lunch along with the Scotland v Argentina Rugby match. The UK’s tax on wine is quite disgraceful. This bottle of wine costs me just €3.50/£3.10. In UK, it would cost me double that at least.

Anyway, moving on to better things. The weather is delightful and the nature around here is wonderful. I love plants and trees. I love to see plants I can’t grow in UK. The climate here is so flat and benign with no massive highs and, more importantly, no lows that most things do well.

Our home in Greece was inundated with Oleanders. They were so common, we almost considered them weeds. Greeks did plant them as hedges but they needed minimal attention. In fact, a neighbour on the South Coast now is growing them successfully.

Then I came across this gorgeous shrub which Google Lens told me is a Thevetia Peruviana which I later found is a South American, yellow Oleander.

I was shocked to find that a tree growing outside my apartment is actually a Papaya Tree. Never seen one before and only saw this one when a papaya fell and nearly hit me on the head.

I can see the Headline in the Daily Fail – British Tourist Killed by Papaya on Tenerife. Anyway, Dear Reader, you’ll be relieved to know that I lived to eat it.

Monday, 17th November, 2025

The start of week 3 here is …. blue sky, strong sunshine and 24C/75F. Time is passing though – as Bum-Face will tell you. He is 22 today. Can you imagine it, Dear Reader – only being 22! So many years of joy, pain and suffering to come. All that living. He might even learn what Palindromic means before he’s 101.

Anyway, Happy Birthday, Daniel. Hope Florida is treating you well and that you graduate soon. I can still picture your chubby cheeks 22 years ago.

I can still picture this little band of waifs and strays from 1971. I can see them all so clearly 54 years on – here on an Art Trip to London. They look arty don’t they? It was posted on Social Media yesterday by some nostalgic soul – Christine Barnes.

So that’s 22 years ago and 54 years ago remembered. Now a lovely photo for me of a brand new school built 127 years ago. No, I wasn’t there but I was headteacher of it 90 years later. Topical events at the time of its opening include the first fatal UK car accident,  Harrods department store in Knightsbridge installed the first escalator  and the opening of the Tate Gallery.

The building wasn’t quite as clean then but, as a testament to the quality of its building, all the windows, all the doors, external and internal, all the built in book cases, the parquet floor, the railings – everything was the original from almost a century past. When we finally vacated the building and it was demolished, we allowed members of staff to remove them for use at home. I took my huge, oak Office door which became the back door of my then home in the country.

In past trips to Tenerife, we have tended to rent properties near Siam Mall – a shopping centre with reasonable facilities. This time, we are about 25 mins walk away so, in keeping with my tradition of always going back to touch my past, we are walking there today just for the memory.

Tuesday, 18th November, 2025

Was woken up in the middle of the night by an alarm on my phone warning me that the temperature in the Gym at home had fallen dangerously low for the delicate equipment. I have a thermostatic wall radiator but it is basically a single skinned garage and is difficult to heat adequately. We’ve had the roof insulated but didn’t go on to do the walls so it always will present some problems.

I don’t like to allow the temperature to fall below 7C/45F at any time and I have a wifi-controlled thermometer which alerts me of that. I then have a wifi-controlled backup radiator which I can activate to give the room a boost. That’s what I was doing at 4.00 am this morning.

Our insurance policy says that the house should be kept at a minimum of 15C/57F for safety of services. That is what both upstairs and downstairs zones are set for. We have wifi controls which allow us to monitor and intervene if necessary from anywhere in the world but it seems to be fairly self regulating.

It all really appeals to my sense of control of the world around me. I love it.

The list here which only shows the first list of rooms, doesn’t refer to individual heating. They are controlling the lighting and the heating and cooling of the Gym. You can’t see it on this first page but I have a fan next to my seat in my Office. Although it is easier just to reach out and switch it on/off manually, I have to use the control on my phone to get full satisfaction.

Outside here this morning, it is a cool 22C/70F. In my village on the South Coast of England, it is just 5C/41F and in the North of England, my friends from Leeds and Rochdale inform me, the temperature is an unpleasant 3C/37F with light, wet snow falling. Decisions, Decisions!

Anyway, enough of that. After being woken by the heating alarm, I listened to a political podcast about the Labour government’s new immigration policy. It fills me with sadness and sheer embarrassment. A sense of shame that a Labour Government, a Labour Government could stoop so low, so low as to find the lowest common denominator. It is one of the most disgraceful things I have heard in all my time associated with them.

To see a South Asian Home Secretary pulling up the drawbridge behind her as so many immigrants here would like to do to protect their own positions is utterly distasteful and disgraceful. You would think finding her policy being applauded by Tommy Robinson and supported by the Tories and Reform would give her pause for thought but the Overton Window pendulum has swung dangerously to the Right and deporting long established migrant families at a whim now seems acceptable. At this rate, I will be voting Green next time.

Wednesday, 19th November, 2025

Another gorgeous morning. The first walk of the day will be with a purpose. Shopping for food and wine at the local – couple of kilometres away – Mercadona.

It is a fascinating experience. Quality is quite good. Some things like wine and fresh orange juice are cheaper while meat and fish are a bit more expensive. Over all, it is very similar bill compared with Sainsburys. We think we are buying top quality sides of fresh salmon at home but I think the salmon we are buying here is slightly better if anything.

Of course, I don’t really drink but the wine is cheap and really good. It encourages me to drink too much – obviously drowning my sorrows, Dear Reader. At the moment (not exactly this moment because it is 9.30 am) I am enjoying this red wine at the enormous cost of €3.50/£3.10. It is a simple, soft, tasty Tempranillo wine which I can drink with fish or meat or cheese unfortunately.

Still, no wine until two, long walks and a swim have been completed so that is the discipline for the day. Actually, walking here is delightful. It is cold this morning back home at just 5C/41F. I think I would be pushing it to go out in shorts and tee shirt today. Snow in the North is unlikely to be seen on the South Coast but neither would we be seeing temperatures of 25C/77F which prevail in Tenerife.

Thursday, 20th November, 2025

While we were working, Pay Day was the 20th of the month. This morning it is State Pension day. There is something quite uncomfortably ironic about waking up in the warmth and sunshine of the Canary Islands to find someone has put money into our Bank Account knowing I have left fellow citizens struggling to make ends meet back in UK. Particularly at the moment with arctic air covering UK, keeping warm and affording to do it could be a matter of life and death. I know some little, old, wrinkly people who will have the heating on all day.

I received this photo from a girl in North Yorkshire first thing this morning. She is clothed in multiple layers and keeping her log burners going to stay warm. It sounds hard work to me. Life should not be so challenging particularly as we get older.

We need and I am lucky enough to be able to afford not only to heat my home and escape to the sunshine but eat good food which is so important in maintaining health. I was thinking about exactly that this morning when I read an article in The Times. When I was young in the immediate post war decade, things like chicken and fresh salmon were considered luxuries. Apparently, Britons ate the equivalent of just one single, small fillet of salmon a year. Of course, then it was all caught wild and was much less readily available.

These days, I eat roast salmon twice a week. A large side of salmon will provide 4 meals for two people and cost about £26.00 per kilo which makes each meal for two cost about £6.50 – amazingly good value. It is almost always farmed salmon which we buy from a specialist supplier. Because it is farmed, there is a continual and consistent supply. Usually, it comes from Scotland.

Having said yesterday that I thought our Tenerife supermarket was more expensive for fish, I now know I was wrong. The side of really delicious salmon we bought yesterday to be eaten with asparagus and green beans is Norwegian and cost just €21.00/£18.50 per kilo. I couldn’t live in Tenerife permanently but it would certainly be cheaper. It isn’t cold enough to need heating and not so oppressively hot as to need air conditioning very often.

The salmon I ate yesterday is protein which the body converts to maintain my muscles. Body building is even more important at my age. That’s why I am now going out for a long walk to assist that protein in maintaining my muscle strength. Must put my sun cream on first!

Friday, 21st November, 2025

A lovely sunny and warm Friday morning. Blue sky with a touch of high and fleecy white cloud. Going to be a good day. At 8.30 am, it is 22C/70F here. At home on the South Coast it is only 3C/37F which has alerted me to turn the Gym heating on. In Greater Manchester, it is currently a bitter -3C/27F. That’s why they all wear woolly vests. Do you remember vests, Dear Reader. I haven’t worn one since the 1960s. Of course, before central heating those sorts of garments were needed.

I suspect they’re never needed the here unless it was to absorb sweat in the Summer. Not really sure they actually have a Summer as such here either. November is their busiest month. There is something rather incongruous about their rush to put up Christmas lights in November to attract people out at night when they have spent the day walking down subtropical avenues like this.

I find the former tawdry and the latter delightful. I must admit, I have never seen Blackpool Lights but I suspect they feel more ‘right’ in Winter weather.

Saturday, 22nd November, 2025

Slightly cooler morning – only 23C/73F but I’m pleased to see things are warming up in UK again which is nice. Just coming to the end of our 3rd week here with one more to go.

Gen Z is the digital generation which is generally considered to be born between 1997 – 2010 although this end stage is extended by some guides. In the UK, this generation started with the Blair Labour Government whereas the next generation – Alpha – is generally considered to have experienced the Covid Pandemic in part of its schooling. Apparently, Gen Z don’t even know what going out on the pull means and, when they are told, they are horrified. Them and me both!

We are all products of our Age. I am a child of the 1950s & 60s. My generation was breaking away from the wartime austerity of our parents and asserting liberty from the life controlling strictures of morality and religion. As such, we were at war with our parents’ generation and that is exactly as it should be. We Boomers (1946 – 64) were into sex and politics, smoking and drinking.

As you will probably know from Larkin’s Annus Mirabilis:

Sexual intercourse began
In nineteen sixty-three
(which was rather late for me) –
Between the end of the Chatterley ban
And the Beatles’ first LP.

Ultimately, we were into serious pursuit of education and careers, material wealth and financial stability. We bought houses, had children, became respectable. We eschewed the church and looked to spend the post-war peace dividend on enjoyment and travel.

Generation X – born 1965-1979 in the Labour Governments of Wilson and Callaghan – reacted to their Boomer parents’ generation’s commitment to Lifelong Careers by seeking more work life balance for themselves. Gap years, alternative lifestyles, working when they have to but chilling when they don’t. I meet them all the time now and they infuriate me. We have/had the most lovely electrician who would come out at the drop of a hat and do an excellent job and then forget to bill me. When I follow him up, I’m told he likes to ‘help the old people’. He’s in his late 40s himself. His kids are home-schooled. Now, he isn’t available at all because he’s too busy doing A Level Music at College and living an alternative lifestyle in a ‘camp in the country. What sort of Adult life is that?

At 6.00 am today, I was listening to two widely disparate generations coming together in the joy of political discussion. Lord Ken Clarke – 85 and born into the wartime generation known as the Silent Generation because they were expected to be seen and not heard. His wife died 10 years ago and, although he attends the House of Lords, he is a sad, lonely and as you can see from the photo a rather shambling old man. (Is that how we all go out?) The young man interviewing him is Lewis Godall former Sky and BBC Newsnight political correspondent but now one of the Newsagents Podcast. He is just 36, recently married and is a Millenial. When you have a shared interest, the generations melt away.

Millennials, also known as Generation Y, are the demographic cohort born roughly between 1981 and 1996, a group dominated by the Thatcher years that reached young adulthood around the turn of the millennium. This generation is defined by their upbringing in a digital world. They are criticised for being too in to their ‘screens’ and social media but largely by the older generations who struggle with the digital world and criticise what they are afraid of and argue that we should be encouraging paper book reading.

I just love Gen Z which would be my grandchildren if I’d had a child of my own. I don’t love them because I agree with them but because they make me laugh. I think I would have been a very indulgent Grandad. Gen Z don’t drink alcohol and they don’t have much sex. What the hell is wrong with them – I would be asking them? Two of life’s greatest pleasures and they really don’t indulge. They can’t afford alcohol and have nowhere to have sex privately apparently. I could advise them.

According to this, there are two things about Gen Z that really chime with me from the chart above. They both come from my time teaching. Tech Savvy – Have a question? Google it. I used to sell the internet to kids in the early stages by challenging them to ask me anything I couldn’t find an answer to within a minute. I never lost and they have grown up believing that the digital world means anything is possible. The other thing is attention span. I have a concentration endurance span that is so long, I can cut off the blood supply to my legs sitting working. According to this their attention span is just 8 seconds. We pandered to that in schools with multi-part lessons to keep them interested instead of pushing them to persevere. I always argued that we were doing them a disservice.

I’m going out on the pull now …. with a shopping trolley.

Sunday, 9th November, 2025

A new week. Starting my second week abroad. Only 3 more before flying home. Only 4 more weeks before I start Year 18 of the Blog. Only just over 6 weeks to Christmas. Only ?? years left alive. Oh, take me out and shoot me now!

‘Tis the Season to be Jolly ….

And so it is, just like you said it would be. Life goes easy on me …. most of the time. Got my exercise to complete again today. Got to find somewhere new to explore. Preferably somewhere without crowds of people.

Walked kilometres through massing throngs of scorched and tattooed bodies under hot sunshine down to and around the Marina. So many lovely views scarred by Kiss-me-Quick boat trip kiosks and All-you-can-Drink beach bars.

I got back tired and sweaty, had a gorgeous swim in the pool which is permanently heated to 25C but is almost constantly deserted before settling down to watch Man. Utd. draw in the football and England win the Rugby. A good day all round ended eating Supper outside on the patio in the balmy warmth. That’s how life should be and it should involve nice people.

Weird but enjoyable was receiving a photo across 2,700 miles and 53 years. Old friends in a different place at a totally different time. There are times when I miss youth.

Monday, 10th November, 2025

Another glorious morning. Instant 22C/70F with lovely sunshine. That is what I am paying for. Breakfast with BBC Radio 4 Today outside in the warm air. The washing machine is humming away and all (most) things are well with the world. Fresh orange juice, coffee and home made muesli complete the picture.

I’m reading the Press while taking in the radio news. We are sitting in a quiet, gated community in Costa Adeje on the Southern Coast of a lump of rock just off the Western Sahara in the North Atlantic. We have rented properties here during November – February over the past 10 years and the weather is one of the most reliable and predictable elements. Yes, there have been blips. We had one November with 5 days of cool rain but that really was the exception and, when I say cool, I mean it dropped to 18C/65F which is not cold. By contrast, our Home in England this morning is 14C/57F and raining.

The reason why I bring the topic up at all is because I was shocked to read in the media this report about events on the North Coast in Playa del Roque de las Bodegas:

It just shows up the contrast between the North and South of the island which is well known but this was particularly dramatic. In the South, we have had absolutely no sign of it other than characteristic cloud falling down over the mountains.

Had a Senior Moment today. Quite shocked me. Went swimming this afternoon in the pool here. We were the only swimmers and we spent 30 – 40 mins pushing ourselves up and down this kidney-shaped, comfortably heated swimming pool. I strode out of the pool feeling like a giant of fitness, put my hand in pocket and …. pulled out my phone. It was understandably dripping with water.

It appeared to be still working when I looked at it but I was fearful for its long-term health. I walked swiftly back to our apartment and patted it dry with tissues/kitchen roll and plugged it in to recharge. It immediately shrieked at me that there was water in the mechanism and it could not recharge. At that point, my Assistant took control with a hairdryer on cool and a steady hand for 20 mins. I plugged in my charger and all was well. I was back in touch with the world. Ah ….

Tuesday, 11th November, 2025

A nice, warm morning with a few, fleecy high clouds. We are told that we could have some rain tomorrow afternoon which will make a change. I may be walking in the rain. I will have to put my mobile in a plastic bag. Miraculously, it is still working. It is only supposed to be ‘splash-proof ‘ so I have had a lucky escape. My smartphone, as my wife points out, is an extension of my arm. I do spend my day talking to people on it where ever I am in the world.

While we are away, I monitor our Sussex home remotely – the temperatures upstairs and downstairs in the house, the lights at night time, the security cameras, the temperature in the Gym because of the sensitive equipment, the forecast for the days ahead so I can adjust each of these. I read the local news through media and Blogs to see if there is anything I should be doing. Rather liked this photo taken down near the Community Centre in a park I walk through each day back home.

One of the things I’m trying to manage at home is how to receive parcels while we are out. I don’t want to burden our hard working neighbours so I’m going to install a parcel locker to the side of the front door. It has an initial cost, of course, but should be functional, effective and durable. It also needs to swallow multiple sizes of parcel.

It will need a little man to come in and install it but should last as long as I do. The cost will be about £200.00 so well worth the effort. At least I will obviate articles like this in The Times this morning.

Wednesday, 12th November, 2025

Well the weather forecast said we could expect rain today. As you can imagine, it is gorgeously sunny and warm. Because of the forecast, I went out early walking. Six miles in the sunshine is just a delight. Explored a new area with quality restaurants and clean, attractive coastal paths. Dare I say, it is a Middle Class enclave. Of course I dare say. I’m 74. I say what I like!

Had to get back for 11.15 am and PMQs on BBC2. Fascinating times in politics at the moment. I can’t get enough.

If I was to worship a god, which I don’t, it would be Tim Berners-Lee. He invented the World Wide Web in 1989 and published his first full web page in 1991. I accessed my first internet page just 4 years later. It was one of the most exciting moments of my life. (I did say ‘one’, Dear Reader.)

Almost exactly 41 years later, I was reminded of it all this morning as I woke up on a rock off the coast of Africa and received a message from my Surgery some 3,572 km away. My NHS app alerted my watch via my phone via the WiFi that I was being invited to a clinic.

I smoked cigarettes from the age of 14 – 1965 – and, as in all things, smoked to excess for 20 years. I have often wondered how my girlfriends coped with it. They certainly never smoked. I was smoking 40 cigarettes a day until I gave up on November 11, 1985. I was delivering a Research Paper on Labour Aristocracy  to a Masters Degree Tutor Group at Huddersfield University. At 9.00 pm that night, I pledged to give up and have since never smoked anything more than a piece of salmon.

This morning, 41 years on, I received an invitation via my NHS app from my Surgery to attend a Lung Cancer Screening. Quite surprised but pleasantly. It sounds an excellent service. As soon as I get home my willy and my lungs will be checked for signs of cancer. I will then go on to have a whole body scan in addition and one that will concentrate on my prostate. This is fantastic by the NHS and I am very grateful

At the same time, the internet and the NHS are combining to allow me to order Repeat Prescriptions for my neighbour to collect tomorrow and, this morning, I tested my INR and sent the result to Worthing Anti Coagulation Unit who will reply with medication levels and the next official test date. This is the future of Health Care provision and it is wonderful.

I should have been in Leeds this Lunchtime meeting old friends from over 50 years ago. Instead I am here off the African Coast. I don’t apologise but I do regret. I am going to organise my own reunion soon. It will be enjoyable.

Just been for a lovely swim to complete the exercise for the day. The pool was empty apart from a friend of mine. She’s so small, you can hardly spot her. Swimming is a wonderful way to relax after a long, sweaty day.

Thursday, 13th November, 2025

I woke up at 5.45 am thinking I was having a heart attack. I had a dreadful pain where I thought my heart was. I may have slightly Hypochondriacal tendencies and I may be subject to mild bouts of panic but my Dad died of a heart attack and I am always wary of the signs. It suddenly struck me that I was abroad, wasn’t completely clear about how to get assistance or even the exact address of where I am living at the moment.

I did what any man would do in these situations, I woke my wife. She immediately pointed out that wasn’t where my heart is. Apparently, it’s on the other side. Who knew? She also pointed out that I was doing a lot more swimming than normal and had probably strained a muscle. Suddenly, it all became clear. I wasn’t going to die … well not at that precise moment. I wonder what’s for Breakfast.

As we get older, these are serious considerations in travelling. It had a serious bearing on why we left Greece. One of the first things I do in arriving at a destination is check out the emergency Medical Facilities. Fortunately, I found two ambulances parked outside this Doctors’ Emergency Surgery just a short walk from our apartment. A quick photo and the number is added to my contacts.

Of course, we are never without Worldwide Medical Insurance which comes free with our bank account and I always have an EHIC (now GHIC) card account although I’m never sure why because it rarely works when you really want something. It was a European Heath Insurance card which never actually worked in Greece. Their system is so poor that they always demanded upfront payment. After Brexit, the Tories cobbled together an even more useless replacement that was so Global it wouldn’t be entertained in USA.

In emergencies, you really do have to look after yourself. Local Authorities are not reliable. You know here on Tenerife today, all schools are closed. The weather is forecast to be powerful winds with torrential rain which is why it is actually warm and sunny with blue skies and not a hint of a breeze. The kids must be loving the day off.

Friday, 14th November, 2025

Absolutely glorious morning – Life affirming & Existence lengthening. The bad weather forecast for yesterday just didn’t happen. We had a lovely day and a long, warm evening. I drank too much wine and slept like a log. Up at 7.00 am and on with the day.

Today’s project is to look at a new, rental/purchase property bit higher up the mountain from here – away from the tattoos and motability scooters. It is only about a mile or so walk but that mile should make all the difference. The place we are in this year is fine but, once out of the gated development, the environs are less than perfect. I want to retreat to more rarefied air.

There was a wonderful and I found utterly moving article in today’s Guardian about Photobooths and their decline in the light of digital photography. Photographs are some of the most frightening and moving objects in people’s lives. Sometimes, I feel that only applies to me but the sensation of time stopped reclaims old time while emphasising its movement. Looking at an image of the past in Lines On A Young Lady’s Photograph Album ….

In short, a past that no one now can share,
No matter whose your future; calm and dry,
It holds you like a heaven, and you lie
Unvariably lovely there,
Smaller and clearer as the years go by.

The Whitsun Weddings – 1964

Philip Larkin had it perfectly as with so much from my early years. Time cannot be reclaimed however much we improve on it across the years. There is a thought to carry with you over your day, Dear Reader.

Saturday, 15th November, 2025

Half way through the month and half way through my time away. Life goes on, Dear Reader. What did I do yesterday? What am I doing today? What would I be doing in UK? The answer in all three cases is walking, walking and walking.

In UK, I would be walking in 13C/55F of misty drizzle. Here, I am walking in 25C/77F of gorgeous sunshine. Yesterday, I walked up to a new Development called Atlantic Homes. They have properties for sale and rent in the first phase which I featured yesterday.

I hadn’t realised that there is a huge, new second phase currently underway. It is certainly looking very interesting. I went in to the Sales Office of the Building/Marketing company, Viqueira, to get my name on the email Information List for when Phase 2 is completed this time next year.

In the meantime, I have rented an apartment in Phase One for 4 weeks in November 2026 to get a feel for it and be on site when the new ones are due to be released. The Development is up, away from the tattoo brigade. There isn’t a cheap paella restaurant or an All-You-Can-Eat Chinese in sight. It is an area to sit back in and breathe out.

This afternoon, I am at Twickenham watching England play the All Blacks. By Half Time, it is a wonderfully balanced game separated by just one point. Life can be wonderful, Dear Reader. Come over and share it with me.

What an afternoon. My wife cringed with extreme embarrassment as I roared on England as they destroyed the once mighty All Blacks. I’m sure the people of Tenerife were ecstatic.