Sunday, 19th July, 2026
July 2026 is rushing down the hill towards Winter. I noticed last night that the evenings are beginning to getting darker earlier. I tried to watch the England match but didn’t get beyond Half Time. I’d had a really long day working outside on Saturday and I was very tired. It must be an age thing. I could hear all the old ladies in their rocking chairs shouting for England as I fell asleep.
Mind you, I bet they hadn’t spent 6 hours in hot sunshine, mowing, watering, sweeping, weeding. I lost 4lbs in weight after my efforts yesterday and was too tired to eat and drink. We’ve been home for just 4 days and the streetside is beginning to look cared for again although the grass is brown and everything needs rain. Today, we turn our attention to the back garden.
Today, Chef will collect more armfuls of basil from the back garden and fill the kitchen with that wonderful aroma as she produces a second batch of Pesto which will be portioned up and put into the outside freezer to get us through the Winter.
My job is the enjoyable one. I am chief taster and I have to give the thubs up. You can’t beat freshly made pesto with basil cut 15 mins ago from the garden, high quality, Greek extra virgin olive oil, lots of rough cut garlic, freshly grated hunks of Italian Parmigiano Reggiano and loosened with the juice of very ripe Italian lemons. It is an attempt to preserve the Summer.
It is great to be able to open a jar of home made strawberry jam made properly and taste the essence of the previous summer on the spoon. It is an absolute delight and helps soften the sadness as the Summer fades, the time passes and 76 beckons. And I mean sadness. It really does get to me.
I know I go on about it but I find it hurts me more as time passes. Yesterday, a neighbour across the road was holding a garden party for his daughter who was 15. He remarked that she was only 4 when we all moved in to our new houses.
He went on to talk about the heatwave here which has gone on for 5 weeks now and how he had never experienced anything like it. He is an intelligent man, a Cambridge Graduate and Mathematician working in industry. I asked him if he could compare it with the famous Summer of of 1976. He pointed out that he wasn’t born until 1977 and I felt the dagger to my heart. That’s why this morning I am listening to the haunting Rachmaninov Adagio that I first met and fell in love with in 1973. All those years ago ….
Monday, 20th July, 2026
Beautiful Day. It’s going to be one of hedge trimming and cutting back the bushes along the drive so I can get the car down without scratching it. First tasks include contacting Financial Institutions which can be a bit scratchy and obtuse themselves but it has to be done.
First, we must wish Richard, a regular Blog reader, a Happy Birthday. You will all know that I am obsessed with aging. Don’t know why. Richard has reached 80. Hard to know whether to congratulate him or commiserate with him. He probably feels the same. It will not be the same for him since he lost his wife.
Celebrations are for sharing and 80 has real significance. Richard is an intelligent and thoughtful man who will already know both sides of the coin. We hope he can be happy and enjoy his day. Paper cards are very last century and Richard is on Whatsapp. I’m rubbish on cards at the best of times and have to be told to put kisses on them. Fortunately, AI is good at everything and designed me this card withing 15 seconds. Staying alive can be exciting.
Transferring largish sums of money online can be more than exciting. People we know ‘misplaced’ £250,000.00 once because of a bank error. Can you imagine the panic before that was sorted out? Today, I’ve got to move less than that but a considerable amount between institutions.
Two years ago, when I was looking for a good rate for fixed rate ISAs and Bonds, I chose Kent Reliance Investment Bank because it had a High Street position. I went in and talked to humans. A few months before they matured – the funds not the humans – the bank closed its branches and said it was going online. The web-based platform would be ready in time.
Of course it isn’t. I was met this morning by a message to say it wouldn’t be ready until September. I could and should have predicted it. So I’ve had to spend an hour on the phone this morning explaining what I wanted to do and giving my instructions. I’m having to download forms, fill them in and upload them again. These are quite technically proficient activities for many. They are time consuming for me. At least I am going to achieve 4.5% for the next couple of years. Once again, I could get a smidge more at 4.7% but I am happier with the institution I’m moving to and the UK inflation rate is 2.8% so I am at least making a real gain.
While I am doing all this, my phone flashes up a notification from Patients Know Best. Good or Bad news? Well, you can tell from the graph that it is good news. My Prostate Specific Antigen plummeted after radiotherapy and has flatlined ever since. It would seem that I am cancer-free …. for now.
Life is wonderful, isn’t it Dear Reader. Yesterday in glorious sunshine, Pesto was being made and first cut herbs were being prepared for freezing. As I cut the Oregano, a cloud of miniature butterflies the size of a small thumbnail flew up and fluttered by. I managed to snap a photo with my phone of one and then asked AI what it was.
I was told that these weren’t butterflies at all but ‘Mint Moths’ which like to feast on Oregano, Mint and Thyme plants all of which I have masses of in my garden. They live for 3 weeks if they are lucky. I’m a sucker for little things and I’m already in love with these even if they do eat my herbs.
Tuesday, 201s July, 2026
I haven’t had an NHS dentist since we left Yorkshire 15 years ago. Our private dentist is paid for by an annual contract which provides for two Hygenist and two Dentist appointments a year. It only costs £22.00 per month but some people will decide it is an expense they have to forgo in favour of heating or eating. I believe it should be free at the point of access like the Health Service and like Social Care should be so that those with the greatest ability to pay do so through their taxes.
I hate the Hygenist – not personally but as a process – and need my hand holding by a beautiful girl just to get through although I’m not sure she’s worth £22.00 per month. My Housekeeper makes the appointments hence I’ve had Hygenist at 8.30 am today and I have Dentist at 8.30 am tomorrow. Brilliant! What am I doing?
To soften the blow, I’ve been allowed to go down to the beach for coffee. A couple of years ago, a ‘shed’ was constructed and we looked quizzically at it – The Cafe on the Beach – but it has been a roaring success. It is regularly packed out.
We were there just as it opened this morning and chose to sit outside in the sun overlooking the sea. There were people strolling on the beach and going in the sea. No children because they don’t break up from school here until this afternoon. What’s that out on the horizon? Fantastic zoom on my phone camera showed me.
THe most exciting moment of the week so far is the arrival of Andy Burnham. We are kindred spirits. We were both brought up as Roman Catholics but have both largely eschewed religion in adulthood. We both did English Lit. Degrees and we both love the poetry of Philip Larkin.
Only one ship is seeking us, a black-
Sailed unfamiliar, towing at her back
A huge and birdless silence. In her wake
No waters breed or break.Philip Larkin: Next, Please (1951)
This poem is about the inevitability of death. He argues that people spend too long fixated on the future, forgetting to live in the present. In ‘Next, Please,’ he looks at people who have wasted their present, waiting for a future that never comes. Larkin implores the reader to sieze the moment before it’s too late. It is something I find very difficult to do.
Yesterday the Black-Sailed Ship arrived for two newsworthy men, Ed Stourton and Kevin Kegan. Both died of cancer. Stourton at just 68 was a notable journalist and BBC political analyst who died of Prostate Cancer. Kegan needs little introduction, although my neighbour across the road didn’t know anything about him, died of Stomach Cancer. As I stepped out into the sunshine of the Cafe on the Beach, you can be sure that both would have given everything to just enjoy that moment.