Author: peterb51

19th March 2026

Today was the last of my appointments.

I was meeting my friend Rob for the final masala dosa of this visit.

We were confused when the doors to the Indian Temptation restaurant were locked.

This was a setback, I had got myself synced up for this tasty dish, what were we going to do?

We ended up at a new place in the Shires Yard.

Rob, being outspoken, as he is, soon made friends with the staff.

We gave this new place the opportunity to seduce us with their masala dosa, and it was good. Different in texture from the one served at Indian temptation, but was a bit more tasty, it didn’t have the chickpea crunch.

I’m sure they thought Rob was a food critic because the chickpea roll was served as a second course.

Then that was followed by a carrot tea, a delicate flavour that was unusual and free of charge. I’m sure if we had stayed we would have been given a dessert, but we had somewhere else to go.

I like the walk down Pultney street, the scale of the continuous Georgian terrace alway takes my breath away.

“ And it doesn’t allow for the curvature of the earth” mocked Rob.

We ended our walk at the Holborn museum, this is the usual haunt of my Art School pals to meet.

The original school was in Sidney Place, and Sidney gardens was our playground, it was a unique place.

Apart from the two of us we were joined by Tom, with a large floppy hat that shaded his face.

When he spoke, he was so quiet, I found it difficult to hear what he was saying. Rob found the same, so it wasn’t my hearing.

We stayed about an hour, I needed to get back to Bradford on Avon, I wanted to get there before Nicola and Colin, who had been working on the garden, left for home.

Unfortunately the timetable didn’t work out, but I did see the results of their toils, and it was amazing, I could see the soil again.

It had been a busy day, I had the boiler serviced in the morning, driven to Wickes to get some outside solar lights, walked up the steep Wine Street, that nearly killed me, and sorted out a new broadband supplier, this had been a good day.

18th March 2026

The Hop Pole in Limply Stoke has a lot going for it, recently becoming a community owned pub.

The renovation has been done well, it has opened up the old building and made it much larger. In my opinion it stands as an example of how the village pubs of the future can survive.

Community owned businesses could be a thing of the future. The village still has a small motor repair garage, a rare thing in today’s times.

It was an ideal venue to meet up with Bob Wood and Keith Baker. Both in their eighties and remarkably sharp, we reminisced, and as normal Bob had a lot to say, with Keith butting in where appropriate.

I never get tired about hearing about the early days, all the small details that I add to what I already knew, adds the colour to the painting.

We all agreed that our time with the company was the most exciting, as a fledgling company we had a lot to prove, and that gave each of us the incentive to be successful. Each increase in turnover gave us strength, and increased our market share without much effort.

We were in an era when furniture topped the list of business growth, long before Apple and the other big boys dominated the markets, for furniture, that will never happen again.

The company continues along a flattening curve where it tries to find innovation in a market where it’s no longer recognised. Different styles of working has dulled the blade, and new niche products do little to excite people.

Herman Miller has become a reproduction business, re-introducing classic designs from the early catalogs, it is gambling on finding new customers that appreciate mid century pieces, but with a CEO earning in excess of five million dollars a year, that a awful lot of product that has to be sold to cover that.

We talked for what seemed like an age, the lunch was good and the beer matched it.

As we all had a similar choice from the menu, Bob managed to get us to subsidise his coffee as we divided the bill equally, as only Bob does.

17th March 2026

Somebody stole my recycling bin! Somebody…..stole…..my …… recycling……..bin!

I could not believe it. I had bags of stuff to recycle, I walked to the bottom of the garden, down the steps to the slope, and it was gone.

Now it has to be some low life that has nothing in their lives but to steal a blue bin when the council give them for free.

That made me mad, I now have bags of recycling to dispose of.

What happened to it? Not many people even use the slope, did someone recycle the recycling bin?

This is when I have doubts about the morality of some people. I was brought up to respect other people’s property, and I’m sure my parent would have drummed into me “Don’t steal others people’s recycling bin.” 

I tackled a bit more of the undergrowth at the front of the property. Things I thought I had killed had sprouted in abundance, it was giving me the finger. A lot of it emanates from next door. 

The lady that lives there, I call the ghost, has let her garden go to waste, the brambles now have taken over, and there is only a wooden fence that separate us. It is so bad that there is a wheelybin entangled in the brambles, I bet nobody would steal that.

This is a serious problem, a lot of my time is spent cutting back the tentacles that have scaled the fence. This needs a scorched earth solution, but like the brambles themselves it is deep rooted.

I will never drive a car into Bath again.

It was the evening where the ex herms get together for a wonderful Indian meal.

I drove in early, anticipating a parking issue. It was well founded, I drove around for ages, visited all of my usual haunts, but there was nothing. The city is changing, has changed. Large blocks have appeared that are slowly engulfing the beautiful city I grew up in.

Even Homebase, where I used to buy tools and diy materials has disappeared, I expect more boring blocks will appear soon.

In the end I succumbed to the car park at Avon Street, that in itself has changed from a multi story to a bomb site.

The Mint Room event is the highlight of my stay, my one reader was there, thanks Ann, you are a legend. 

The evening was filled with good conversation and laughter, there is excitement hearing about new creative directions, and even normal things, I enjoy the company.

I had a feeling something was off and I couldn’t put my finger on it, maybe I was being ultra sensitive, or my frustration of not finding somewhere to park was still in my brain.

Everything changes, the way things resonate, alters, we each have our own vibrations, that is why we bond, it’s not chemistry, as I used to think, it our matching vibrations. I hope we, as a group never loose that.

16th March

Another long drive, this time to Whitney on Wye to see my friend Martin.

There was a new boxer puppy in the household, it sat on Martin’s lap, I could see the deterioration in his condition, his hope was the puppy would give him the strength and determination to carry on. 

From recent experience the stress that a puppy can inflict is not really suitable for a person in his condition.

The air was filled with pain, I could feel it the moment I entered the house. The music that I was used to was not there, replaced with funeral Muzak.

He sat like a James Bond villain in one of the only chairs that he hasn’t destroyed in the fits of rage he often has. Constantly stroking the pup, his voice was monotone, his eyes small, he looked like he was falling asleep. I knew this was going to be a difficult day.

I am always confused what he is actually suffering from. One time it was bone cancer then blood cancer, now its brain atrophy. He has all the signs of a disease degenerative coupled with the lack of control of his temper when frustrated.

This was clear when he started to kick the bathroom cabinets when he could find something he wanted.

He repeatedly tells me how the NHS don’t want to treat him, he continues to say that he has been “blackballed” due to experimental treatment he had at the National Hospital in the sixties. I know a lot of dodgy things were done in the name of medical research, but I do not know if there is a connection. The question I asked was “ Why him, why has he been singled out ?”

It should be quite the opposite, certainly not bringing attention to it.

I am torn, I know he is dying, I can offer him empathy, but that is all.

My own brain is trying to process his story, I look for things that make sense, and god knows I try to take this approach with everything that is happening at the moment. Sometimes there are clues, but when it’s a one side argument it’s hard to be objective.

I left when the sun was fading, it had been a hard day, my questions were seen by him as attacks, I defended my position, I can’t agree just to appease him, but I wished him peace, he must live his life, manage his pain through the dark times, I hope that a little joy will come through the innocence of his new puppy.

I replayed the day as I drove back, we all play the cards we’re dealt, it’s just that Martin was dealt a shit hand.

15th March 2026

It was back on the road heading down to Neacroft in the new forest to spend time with my grandchildren Ethan and George.

There seemed to be a lot on the road, especially cars heading for Longleat. The roundabout close to the entrance was snarled up, whether it was because of Mother’s Day could have been the reason.

There was also the fair share of roadworks to annoy everyone.

I had fun with the boys, there is never a lot of time, and I’m concerned that I am a stranger that turns up for a few hours at a time. I know that was my choice, and it’s difficult to maintain a balance. I miss seeing them growing up in the way you see your own children, the small changes, I see big jumps, that’s wonderful in itself, but part of me is sad.

The drive back had its moments, the brightness of the LED headlights are piercing either from the front or the back, there is no escape.

There is also no apparent “dipping” it just changes from effin’ bright to bright.

14th March 2026 

This was my last day of dog sitting, and once I got back to my cottage I realised how quiet things are without dogs about. They add ambience to a home even when they are sleeping. They are the unique symbol of unconditional love, you can tell them off but they always come back. I miss my girls back home, and from all the messages I receive Winnie is still being a shit sometimes.

I had a video call with Tim Wallace, I had tried to arrange a visit not knowing he had moved to Norfolk. 

Although close to seventy and still working, he looked good, a grey straggly beard is now a feature, made him look a bit like Catweasle the children’s tv series back in the late seventies.

He was outside, and showed me his house, to say Wow would be a understatement. The views from his picture windows are breathtaking, I can only imagine what it is like to be there.

We talked for over an hour and a half, that flashed by quickly, I think it must have been ten years at least since we had spoken, so there was a lot to talk about.

After that I drove down to Martock to visit Nicola and Colin. It was the first time that I had done a long trip in the MX5, and it was an interesting experience. It is small, and when driving at sixty you feel like it’s going eighty. The pedals are a bit cramped, ideal for maybe Italian or Japanese people with small feet, not an English person with size elevens.

This is a 1991 model, and it feels it, no air conditioning, basic instrumentation it reminded me of my Toyota MR2. The Jag, was on a different level, that accelerated from zero to “Good morning judge” in milliseconds.

However it  showed me how difficult it is driving at night, the LED lights on new cars are deadly, definitely a danger to old gits in old cars.

13th March 2026

Now I’m not superstitious, but I experienced a couple of events challenging that.

As I have mentioned I am looking after Ryan and Louise’s two dogs Bobby and Dexter.

I had a good sleep, what I had of it, I was awoken by Dexter wanting to go outside at 04.30am. I remember I got down the stairs, opened the back door, and then letting him back in and getting back to bed afterwards.

The first traumatic event happened when Bobby moved from the foot of the bed, where he normally sleeps, to laying on my chest in such a way that my arms we trapped. He then proceeded to lick my face from chin to forehead.

Now I don’t like my face being licked, not for any particular reason other than where he could have licked before, if you catch my drift?

That was the rude awakening I wasn’t expecting, but it motivated me to get up.

I wrestled with them to attach the harnesses, and made it through the door, ready for the early morning walk.

There had been heavy rain in the night, and the words that Louise spoke about it being muddy did ring my ears, but I obviously ignored that.

Reaching the entrance I could see what she meant. 

What happened next could be described as an Eddie the eagle Edwards moment.

The shoes I was wearing did not have much grip, correction, they had no grip. The dogs were pulling me, I then started to slide, the path was steep downhill, and I had no control.

I fought the forces that were trying to flip my legs up, and getting to the bottom was a miracle.

“Phew! That was close”

Then the path turned to the right, there was even more mud, that is where I lost it, my legs flipped sideways and I landed on my side, my feeble attempt to save myself from landing on my arse.

I managed to stand and survey the damage, there was mud all down my right side, if Kelli could see me now was my first thought.

I released the hounds, and off they went, I stood there for a minute making sure that nobody was around, and making up a plausible explanations for my fashion disaster.

We finished the walk, I hitched up the dogs, now they could pull me up the hill.

We got back and I gave them their breakfast, realising I didn’t have my glasses that were on my head before the accident. Panic stations, I ran back retracing my steps. Now I had to go back down the sloping path on my own, my shoes failing to grip, but somehow I made it without a repeat performance.

I reached the area where I could see my skid mark, there were my glasses sitting on the grass.

The relief was enormous.

I made sure the dog were settled before going back to the cottage, where I put my mud soiled clothes into the washing machine.

Next was lunch with my friend Rob in Bath at our favourite Indian Restaurant, and no, this time there was no Masala Dosa. Instead it was something different, don’t ask me what it was, I went along with Rob’s recommendation, and it was delicious.

At the start of my visit I heard that another of my old school friends was really ill , I found out that he was being treated in the RUH for sepsis.

Rob and myself had agreed to visit him at the Pulteney ward. We took him some grapes, we split them, I provided the grapes and Rob the stalks.

Rod parked a mile or so away from the hospital, to avoid the car park fees, which meant we had to walk.  Now I had decided to wear some boots that I had for a long time, this was a bad mistake.

I have been used to wearing wide shoes, so trying to squeeze my feet into more shaped footwear should have been avoided.

They were fine as long as I didn’t walk in them, but squeaky Rob forced me to do that.

Anyway, we found Pete our sick school friend, but he was being taken to have a CT scan, so we had to wait half an hour for him to be returned to his room.

We found a restaurant and made ourselves a cup of tea.

All this was eating into our two hour free parking time. By the time we actually got to spend time with Pete, we almost had to turn round and head back to the car, but not before he described what treatment he had underwent.

By the time he got to the three incisions he had on his tummy I thought I was going to faint.

He had all that, and could still smile about it.

By the time I got off the bus and walked back to the cottage, I was in agony, I was hobbling along. Both feet had different pain I could wait to take those bloody boots off, I could hear my toes celebrating.

12th March 2026

I had a few days of dog sitting ahead of me. 

Bobby and Dexter are complete opposites in size and stature, but they share a common ability to bark their bloody heads off, especially when they know it was walkie time.

I didn’t have the best night of sleep, but I was up at seven ready for a brisk walk around the neglected golf course.

Wrestling the dogs to put their harnesses on whilst they were barking in my ear was a challenge, although Bobby had been shaved to within an inch of his life, was the easiest of the two. With Dexter, I had to fight the mass of hair.

Once the had been achieved, we were off. For a small dog Bobby can certainly pull, which he did until I released him from his tether.

Then it was a pleasant walk in the crisp morning air. 

I take the longest route in a wide circle, I watched the early morning train rumbling along the other side of the river, my lungs filled with clean air, it felt good to be alive.

After the walk, there was less pulling, although I need help climbing the steep slope towards the gap in the fence. 

I gave the dogs their breakfast of chicken thighs, which they devoured in minutes, I got ready to leave, I had a lot on my list to do.

The garden at the cottage needed de-cluttering , last years growth had to be tamed, and the brambles from the next door had started to invade again.

I got the incinerator going, and as I cut away the dead stuff, burnt it. Not having a vehicle to take it to the tip, burning it was the only option.

I soon regretted it, smoke billowed everywhere, there was a strong wind that helped the drawing, but made it difficult to avoid getting engulfed.

However I made good progress, and a few more sessions should get it back in control.

I took a shower to get the smell of smoke washed away, and headed back to feed the boys, slightly exhausted from the days activity. This alway makes me question my ability to stay awake in the evening, I put it down to the English air, although most of it was filled with smoke, maybe it was the thick English smoke that did it.

11th March 2026

The day I had been dreading, fixing the dishwasher.

I was up at 7.30, had breakfast then started to prepare for the challenge.

My friend Dave was coming over to help, he called me to say that he had bought an earlier train and was on his way up the hill.

By then I had removed the front panel, removed the retaining screws, disconnected the electric and the water and waste pipes, and pulled the unit out into the kitchen.

I met Dave at the front door, he apologised in advance for not being very helpful. He said that he had been dreading this for days, so I spent time reassuring him that two brains are better than one, and we will have fun doing it.

Secretly I was scared, but I didn’t want to worry him more.

The first job was to remove the base panel, this exposed the innermost workings of the machine.

Disconnecting the electrical bits was easy, uncoupling the hose clamps was tricky, but we did it.

Next was trying to disconnect the heater from the motor. This was bloody difficult. 

The first deviation from the videos was the removal of the whole assembly of motor and heater. I don’t know how this could have been done in situ because there were non return plastic clips that had to be forced open to allow the heater unit to rotate anti clockwise.

With a bit of brute force,  a wooden block and hammer, the two pieces came apart.

This was the easy part.

The reassembly was painful, with many different attempts to fit the components. 

First fit the motor, that in itself was horrible, it had to locate in two rubber brackets. I forget how many time we got it together only for it to fall out.

We tried to fit the heater to the motor but it required a lot of force to compress the seal and locate the locking clips, so out it all came.

We then assembled the two parts together then tried to fit the motor part back into the rubber brackets.

By this time we had been working for three hours, it was mentally exhausting. Dave continued to apologise for not helping much. 

Then by the luck of the gods it was there, in the correct place ready for the hoses to be refitted.

There was a warmth of satisfaction running down my back, or was it just beads of sweat?, I didn’t care.

Once the electrical connections were reattached it was just the base panel to be refitted.

What bastard engineer designed this piece.

There were parts that had to be tucked under a metal flange, plastic fingers to align with slots it was effin’ difficult.

Finally I loosened a couple of screws that allowed a bit of flex, just enough to tuck under the back portion of the floor panel, the fingers then aligned themselves, and it was in.

Re connecting the hoses and electric and sliding it back into its home, and the job was done.

Then it was “Does it work” test.

Everything was ready, I selected a program and pressed the button.

The machine rumbled into life.

I checked for leaks, there were none so far.

While it was going through the cycle, we started on the next job, the tripping of the RCD for the shed. This was the mystery, everything was wired correctly, the underground cable was a proper armoured cable, and when we reset the trip, it stayed, head scratching time.

I went back to the kitchen to see how the test was going, as I opened the door the steam hit me. I punched the air in victory, two old duffers had done it, a fully working dishwasher.

So the day ended, it was now 3.30pm and both of us were drained. 

We walked into the town to try to get something to eat, by that time most places were closed, but we did find one open.

We stayed there talking until they asked us to leave because they were closing.

I walked Dave to the train station, it was one of those days when things had been achieved, and my sprit was on a high, and I hadn’t had a drink.

10th March 2026

Today my eldest son Damian was coming to visit, he was kindly leading me one of his cars so I can get about a bit without the hassle of renting a vehicle.

It was great to see him again, he has a busy life, and we don’t connect as often as I would like, and I’m not good with phone calls or video, which is really what we should do to communicate better.

So those few hours we spent were wonderful.

 The car he lent me was a first generation Mazda MX 5 in perfect condition. He had been looking for one for ages, and probably paid a lot for it, with only thirty-five thousand miles on the clock, it is a gem.

During the evening, I started to read up, and watch videos on how to replace the heating element on my dishwasher. This was going to be tomorrow’s main task. I searched through the literature trying to find any user information on the machine, the only thing I found was the template for attaching the front panel. At least it was something.

I had a message from Derek to say that he had cracked the code, and managed to retrieve the licenses, a victory, and great relief.