Monday 1st of January 2024, New Years day and after Hootenanying last night I wake up late. I throw on my Santa blanket and join my partner downstairs who is well into this years jigsaw. We have toast and coffee as we tease away at the tricky Wentworth puzzle. The pair of us nibble away at the puzzle and are joined by our eldest daughter towards the conclusion. Finally we are there, except there is a piece missing. All of us search diligently for it but it appears lost. We repeat our search and miraculously it appears in a place under the jigsaw board where we thought we had already looked. Triumphantly my partner place the last piece to complete the puzzle. It is another stunning puzzle from Wentworth who include “whimsys” and strange shape cuttings in their jigsaws.

Having finished the puzzle I went to get dressed determined to be active today. I suddenly felt breathless and tight in the chest. I retreated to bed, took my vitals and there I stayed for the next three hours monitoring my vitals. My blood pressure had spiked as had my heart rate. I repeated my vitals frequently until I had evened out. While laying there between measurements I listened to meditation music and the the Madonna top fifty songs on Radio 2. By 4 o’clock I had evened out and felt ok about getting up again to draft the blog and think about the evening to come.

I do not know why I spiked like I did today. It could be a combination of several things, the chemotherapy’s biggest side effect of concern is raised blood pressure so it might have been that. I finally decided that I was fine to get up and re-joined my family in time to do todays crosswords and begin to draft the blog. I note that it is raining yet again and the weather bleak so I am looking forward to watching the televised film of the ballet Beaky Blinders, the Redemption of Thomas Shelby. It is the ballet that I was too ill to go and see in Birmingham last year, when my partner and eldest daughter went to see it. So there is a treat in store for me tonight before night meds and hopefully a good nights sleep.

This is not the way I intended to start the new year, but it is as it is. All I can do is fight on, tomorrow I go to the dentist and hopefully reacquaint myself with the rowing machine and a Tesco delivery. Right now a healthy mundane life will do me and time to get my poetry book done.

Saturday and the last week end of the year 2023 dawns. I wake and I feel rough, I’m not sure why I just do and that’s never a good way to start. Its a wet and miserable day again and I do not fancy it. After some initial chores and tidying I retreat to the sofa and what turns out to be a log Tv day crammed with football and rugby. I nibble food while I watch and my partner goes of to have her hair done and return. Game follows game until a take away evening meal, which heralds a binge watch of the Diplomat. As the day goes on I begin to feel a bit better and finally end my day with Tina Turner in concert, my night meds and bed.

Its days like this that are hard to take. With the best will in the world I was not good for anything. Its the sort of day your average self respecting Troll would accuse me of gutlessness, of lacking moral fibre and of being a quitter. Its difficult to explain, in fact I find it impossible, my only response is to take paracetamol in hope of a lift adn to try sleep well at the end of the day and hope for a better tomorrow.

Sunday New Years Eve. I’ll be buggered if I’m having another day like yesterday. My partner brings coffee and we reflect on the year we have had. The first thought is that it has been crap, my sisters death and the consequent all consuming life admin that went with it, my cancer not being amenable to radio therapy and the new bouts of chemotherapy to start with. More recently the issues around my partner being able to find emergency care for her mother has been a challenge as was having the injured carer stay with us before she could return to Greece. There were of course the usual perturbations of home ownership like a boiler that failed, appliances that died, and the minor irritations of broken gadgets and chattels. Neither of us escaped the year with out other injuries, aches and pains and neither of us are as we want to be. Having recounted to ourselves the downs and challenges of the year we of course noted that this was the year our newest grandson was born and our youngest daughter became a mother safely and that my son and his family, including two other grandchildren are all alive and well in Sweden. These are priceless gifts. We have many things working in our favour, like not having debt and being able to contemplate making the house good for future us. We also have friends that care about us, with whom we can share things. Having had our brief reflection on the year we decide to have breakfast out.

Of course before I get ready to go out I weight myself, it being a Sunday and the last of the year. I have not trained since the 16th of November, it slips by easily, and I have comfort eaten over Christmas, as a result the scales tip at a massive 99.5 kilos. Yep I have crossed my threshold of totally unacceptable. It is clear I need to train and stop the sweet stuff, tomorrow of course as I have one day of this year left. I drive my partner to the garden centre with the best café, and we indulge in a proper full English gardeners breakfast accompanied by warming hot chocolate. Its a pleasant morning spent chatting and continuing our planning of for 2024. Venice is the aim for my partner’s sixty fifth but as always there is my cancer to be worked around. We return home and walk to the village shop. All I want is a bottle of coke so I can see the new year in with a non alcohol rum and Coke. Its a simple wish.

Home and into my loungers I watch my home town rugby team win and then start to draft this end of year blog as Zulu plays in the background. So the last evening of the year begins. There will be food, last minute indulgences, messages of happy New Year and then night meds before bed. The New Year will arrive in the morning and for me that means getting back to the fight. Denial, exercise and reclaiming my place in the world and of course becoming England’s foremost vanity poet. Hootenanny!

Friday and its a slow wake up. In fact it takes two coffees to get me going. While I come round I check my messages, emails and cyber litter. I order my next batch of drugs and do a bit of life admin. By the time I swing my legs over the edge of the bed I am well organised. Breakfast is taken with my partner and then I set about checking the Shed to see if it has survived the work done on it at the week end. Some stuff had moved around but the most of all the back wall was damp. I set the heater going and then gathered up my tools and the newly delivered leak paint. For the next couple of hours I painted, patched and repainted all the possible leak points on the Shed as the heater inside dried the back wall. Eventually I am done and also out of leak paint so I put away the tools and clean up, leaving the heater to carry on drying the Shed out.

By now I am low on spoons and take a rest, which turns out to be a wrestle with one of my so called smart speakers. After buggering around with it and the associated App I admit defeat and unplug it. When I plug it back in after thirty seconds it works perfectly. Note to self, stop the clever stuff and just turn the bloody thing off and on again. I do my vitals while Alexa provides meditation music. My arithmetic is good. After a suitable moment of rest I am back around the table for a dish of soup with my partner. We talk about how it can be tricky to know when I am “available” and when I have gone “walk about in my head”. Laughingly my partner suggests I should have different coloured hats or different types of hat to let her know. This is a genius idea, or so I think. I go to my source of choice, dear old Amazon, and lo and behold, its possible to get personalise baseball caps. In a trice I order an “ I am in” and an “I am out”, baseball caps. I’m interested to see if this really works. I then get on with some clearing up. It is now pouring with rain as I brave the garden again to close the Shed up and turn the heater off. I’m rapidly becoming spoonless and retreat to the sofa to start the blog.

Suddenly I find I am already into the evening and I’ve caught up with the Vera Christmas special and anticipating a possible rugby match. There will be tea and then the world is my mollusc. Its Friday, the last Friday of of 2023. There is nothing special for the end of years for me now, every day is a gain and everyday is an opportunity to change something if I want to. The New Year as a starting point feels like magical thinking and as such unlikely to succeed.

Wednesday, I’m up early so I can wave farewell to my youngest daughter and her partner and of course my newest grandson. Its a miracle that they can pack everything into their car for the journey, but they do manage it and drive off early just as it begins to teem with rain. So after breakfast I set about integrating my new Christmas clothes into my wardrobe. An eclectic collection some of which are below.

By the end of the day the house is more or less sorted, the meters are read, the bins in and the comes along with football and more Mandalorian. Of course there are night meds and a kitchen to clear and then off to sleep.

Thursday rocks up and my partner and I have a plan, new mattress. So fortified by a bacon sandwich we drive off to our local retail park in search of a well researched super king sized orthopaedically firm dual zip mattress. I drive to the runup to the retail park and find its backed up for ever. We drive past and go to a garden centre and have hot drinks and cakes, taking the opportunity to have a long chat and a plan for the new year. Back home the afternoon is well on and so I settle down at the computer and do my tax return for 2022/3. It goes amazingly well and is the last one I will need to do as I had the joy of proudly typing into the “any other information” box the wonderful phrase ” I am pension dependant”. It was almost a pleasure to pay off the meagre tax required.

I skip in to my evening of Bambi, Buffy Vampire the Slayer and Dawn French’s one person show Dawn French is a Twat. They provide a background as I draft the blog and hang my washing up to dry. Night meds and clearing the kitchen comes last, too last for more Mandalorian. It appears that the world has slowed down all of a sudden, but I think its about the shit weather we are having at the moment, all I want to do is hunker down and be warm and comfortable, but I feel the niggle of missing training beginning to itch.

Monday and its Christmas day. Its a day of wrapping paper, surprises and indulgence. Having a baby in the house for his first Christmas is a delight and means everything gets done slower and in phases as he needs food and naps. So it is a lazy start and a late Christmas dinner as we open presents over the day. Here are some of the moments:

We dine heartedly and of course play the detective game that came with the crackers. I strange mixture of party games and detective skills. Only one of us got the perpetrator right, not me, so my forensic skills are lost and gone for ever. One up side was the 0% spiced rum I was given that meant I could drink rum and coke to my hearts delight with no fear for my kidneys. Given that the economy is harsh at the moment and the family all thought they had been frugal by the end of the day we all seemed to have piles of new goodies. Of course the baby grandson had most which meant that we adults had lots of new things to play with.

Christmas evening we nibbled and watched a film and then some TV. I do no t know how it happened but we manged to end up watching the Christmas edition of Eastenders between films. What a bizarre experience, six of the leading female roles end up murdering two men in quick succession in the pub after a wedding jilting and a failed lesbian elopement. Is this meant to inspire strength and solidarity in the sorority or is it an ironic warning to men to watch themselves. Of course I’m unaware of the back story not being an avid watcher but it seems strange fare for Christmas night viewing. It seems a desperate throw of the dice for Christmas ratings. It was a relief to end the evening with a couple of episodes of the Mandelorian. It almost seemed more plausible than Eastenders. So with baby Yoda being safely escorted by a bounty hunter across the universe I take my night meds, sort out the dishwasher and go to bed still wearing my Barbie T shirt and 67’s ice hockey jersey.

Boxing day, Tuesday, and my partner brings me a coffee to wake me and fairly soon I can hear my newest grandson having a bath with his mum. I get up and join the family for breakfast where we half plan and half chat. There is time to put more of the young boys toys together and introduce him to things he can kick, tug and grasp. All of them seem to be a hit with him. By lunch time its time for me to clear the kitchen and to put our special china service away, before I start to make the evening curry. No prizes for guessing what it is, yep turkey curry. I chop and prepare the ingredients and load the crockpot before stripping the turkey carcass of meat and add it to the pot. Finally I add the magic curry mixture, close the lid and set the control so that we can eat about six o’clock this evening. My efforts have tired me, its clearly one of my days with few spoons so I take myself off to take my vitals and to get Alexa to play me meditation sounds. I spend quite a lot of time letting myself relaxing before I get up again to find my youngest daughter and partner have taken my new grandson out for a walk. My first thought is an alcohol less rum and coke and a catch up on the blog. Of course there have been a lot of Christmas messages to send and to respond to. People have all been generous and kind this Christmas and I am more appreciative than ever that this has been the case.

As evening approaches mysteriously poppadum’s and nans appear so the local co-op must be open and someone must have slipped out to get them. I hope my curry lives up to them. I’ve no idea how we will entertain ourselves tonight, although we tend to be a family of game players, one of our favourites being Perudo, and old dice game where you have to predict the number of numbers thrown. Along the way you lose dice if you get it wrong, last person left with dices is the winner. Its an old game, having been played for centuries. Other of of our games are more modern board games. I suspect we will get to television at some point for Murder in Paradise, after that its anyone’s guess. Of course there are still chores to do, so the bins get put out and the kitchen cleared. By the time I’ve eaten I need to rest but find the Royal Institute Lecture on AI, The Truth About AI.

In the midst of this I am conscious of managing my own disease, the hot flushes, my drops in temperature, my fluctuations in appetite and my increasingly unpredictable gut. I try to hold onto my routines and my external “skeleton” of rituals to keep things under control, but mainly its about being able to rest and manage the fatigue. I seem to have sudden losses of energy (spoonlessness) and more recently bouts of anxiety that I exhibit as holding a lot of tension in my body, especially my jaw, neck, shoulders and back. I need to get back to the rowing machine, I must make the effort for my own sake. The garage is cold, perhaps the best step is to get back to the gym, do less but in the warm. This all seems strange stuff for Boxing Day but I think it is part of the incessant nature of the disease and how it invades my thinking as well as my body. It seems it and I cannot leave each other alone.

Sunday, Christmas Eve and I can’t be arsed to weight myself. I’ve not trained for ages and there is little point in weighing myself. I wake to find I have a Christmas Eve present, as has my partner. After a coffee my partner and I don our presents and pose for a picture with our youngest elf grandson. Its one I shall treasure.

After a brief breakfast, I shower and get ready to go to the family four generation afternoon. Unfortunately one of my nieces has to work, one niece is ill and one nephew is down with COVID, the rest of us spend time chatting, sipping coffee and trying to get i-player onto a smart TV from an i-phone. We failed but it replaced a round of Perudo or other Christmas games.

We stay and chat and then we drive home to more coffee and chocolate biscuits before tea. Everyone is tired, it feels like a busy day and I am already spoonless, The efforts of yesterday have caught up with me and so as tea cooks I draft the blog and ready myself for the evening. Its blowing hard outside and as a family we hunker down. I do not know how we will spend this evening but it will end with me taking my meds and hoping that I sleep well and wake up with many Christmas spoons,. Of course I hope Santa is kind and that we have a peaceful day and the joy of presents and celebration. For me I am just pleased to be here and to be able to be with my family and to be able to wish all my friends and loved ones a Merry Christmas.

Saturday and I wake to a plan. There is coffee and meds and then a burst of clearing and organising before my youngest daughter and her partner and new son arrive. My partner and eldest daughter go off to collect the turkey while I continue to put things away and make space. The visitors arrive as I am preping the draft blog. Its not long before everyone is back and sitting around the table having scones and drinks. My new grandson is introduced to the wonders of a high chair and looks like he enjoys being on the same level as us adults.

Having had our snacks I note that the weather is good, in fact it is good Shed repairing weather so my youngest daughter’s partner and I set about patching and repairing the torn roofing felt. We beaver away and I find myself scrabbling about on the Shed roof. I notice that the neighbours have got chickens again, I guess that means we will also have rats and mice again. Perhaps that’s why the fox comes by occasionally. We spend a couple of hours working away and finally get the job done. Its a real relief to have it out of the way, I could not have done it with help so I am very grateful.

After packing the tools away there is cheese rolls and hot water to have while I rest from the effort. I take the opportunity to update the draft blog while I rest and watch a rugby match on TV. My family are out on a walk, I have no spoons for that.

I drift into the early evening and get introduced to Disney+, which is exciting as I find al the old Star Wars stuff along with the Guardians of the Galaxy franchise. There is loads more to delve into and discover. So many Iron Man films. The family dine quite late, my eldest daughter having gone out to a concert with a friend. I am spoonless quite early in the evening and return to the sofa to draft more of he blog, its a family quite time as my grandson sleeps quietly in his travel cot monitored by a camera and sound system.

Tomorrow is a big day as the family is visiting my partners 95 year old mother with the usual Santa run goodies. Once again there will be four generations together, this time celebrating Christmas. So I shall no doubt watch either a film or some television and then head for bed after taking my night meds. I have noticed that there is a parcel for me on the bed which am to open tomorrow morning, my partner also has one. This I think is my eldest daughter playing, I dread to think what she has been up to. I guess the world is wrapped up in is Christmas arrangements now as everyone heads towards the day itself. I’m looking forward to Christmas day, it will be the first Christmas day in decades that I have spent the actual day in my own home with my family.

Friday. I am tired so I will keep today brief. I manged to get a dentist appointment to to have my lost filling replaced today. Big win. Managed to finish the last of the Christmas shopping, another win. Finished Christmas wrapping, definite win. Received present and cards in post, excellent win. Unpacked and erected the high chair for our visiting grandson, emphatic win. Watched football match and all of Vigil. Took my night meds and paracetamol to shift my headache that has been with me all day. Not a win. Went to bed hoping to wake headache less in the morning.

Wednesday I wake to another day when I have to get up to be bright and shiny for a visiting artisan. I get up and dress, eat toast and down my morning meds. I amuse myself while waiting for the artisan to turn up by going through the bumper edition of the Radio Times marking what I want to watch with a Sharpie. I note that I am not the first person to have done this and make my choices diplomatically knowing that i-player will rescue me. Of course there are favourites like the Royal Institutes Christmas lectures for children, which this year are about AI. There is always one of my all time favourite films on and this year does not disappoint as I find that In the Heat of the Night is being screen, as is Casablanca and The African Queen. I do not finish this activity before the artisan arrives. I welcome him in and make him proper coffee. I like him straight away as he takes his coffee as I do, black and no additions.

We get started on the conversation of what we want done. As we chat my partner joins us and we gradually expand our ideas and explore more possibilities. Our drive is too narrow and bump and in our discussions our artisan suggest a rather neat solution. A single metre shaved off the edge of the front garden would enable a stately gateway and sweep to the house. We are happy that any of the tree and shrub clearing work would be done in co-operation with the team that do our trees, it seems a too good to miss opportunity. Once we have talked through our wish list I take him into the garden to look at the current patio and other features that we wish to remodel. He gets it all and ask questions about our neighbours and the possible use of their garage to anchor one feature to. I promise to talk to them and see if they are content with this. I leave him alone for twenty minutes to measure up and make sketches. He mutters to himself as he calculates square meterage. Finally with his numbers and drawings he comes back inside for some final clarifications and questions. Of course I ask for a ball park figure, he looks at me, mutters to himself again as he adds up more square meterage and calculates days, looks up and gives us prices for the individual bits of the scheme. I think this is known as trying to “soften the blow”, but I’m good at in the head sums too and and bounce back a ball park total. He comes back with a “within the range of, depending on” response. My partner and I look at each other, and I swear we both had the same though namely ” thought it would be more”, but neither of us smiles, I just say “that’s doable”. He says these are big jobs so the two major ones are likely to take two weeks each so providing we go ahead April will be the month of the build. He leaves saying that he will go away and work on the quote and some sketches, which we will get after Christmas.

After his going my partner and I have the “I thought it would be more” conversation and then go into “we will wait and see” mode. Lunch follows, during which we draw up the Christmas meal timetable and sort out what else needs to be brought. Once I had sent it to my youngest daughter pinned it to the fridge I was ready for the afternoon. In an characteristic flash of sociability I go round to the neighbours to ask about bolting things to their garage wall. I get invited in and discover a very Christmassy household and jigsaws. As we chat I discover that jigsaws, watercolours and guitar playing are things that golfers do when their golf course is closed due to inclement weather. I spend quite a while chatting and explain the work we are planning. To my relief they have no problem with the proposed gateway as it enhances security of their property as well, so everyone is a winner in this.

I return home to a querulous partner who wondered where I was. After sharing my conversation I emailed the artisan with the news about pining stuff to the garage wall. adn then settled down to rest. It had cost me a lot of spoons, al this social stuff. Tired and wishing to rest I sit on my end of the sofa and watch the conclusion of a snooker match in Germany. It was surreal, no commentary, no crowd, not much of anything, it was like being at the event as the only person in the auditorium. It is amazing just how shit some professional snooker players are. I’m so used to watching the worlds best that I have clearly forgotten that there is a reason why they are the best and they get win things. They can pot the balls, build big breaks and play excellent safety shots. The pair I watch missed their pots, scored lowly and had no idea about safety. In fact one of them bounced the cue ball and a red off the table, I’ve not seen that since being in a youth club! My word they were shit and the game was tedious. Eventually one of them won the frame and the match to absolute silence. No one spoke to each other, they packed their cues away in silence and then just pissed off. A really bizarre experience.

My evening was a combination of food, football and TV until it came to the late film of the evening, the last of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. As ever my timing is out as the film ends late and there is still the kitchen to clear and Daisy dishwasher to set to work. It gets done, I take my night meds and go to bed.

Thursday and I am slow to rise this morning after my late night and feel that today is a low spoon day. My partner brings me a coffee and do my usual check on messages and other cyber litter. Up and dress I wander into the kitchen to fix breakfast and I am confronted by the ton felt on the Shed. It is literally bowing a gale and it has ripped one length of felting off my beloved Shed. There is no question of me getting out there and doing repairs in these weather conditions, I just have to wait it out, it turns out windy and damp all day.

My day is listless, I am not sure what I want to do or whether I feel like doing anything and as I result I drift. I do the odd chore, open a couple of Christmas cards and read the Radio Times. By the time I’ve had lunch I am no better so I take my vitals and have a nap with Alexa playing me mediation sounds, rather nice, but I feel I should be a ball of pre Christmas activity. My response is to do a secondary wave of Christmas internet shopping, small, hopefully fun things and one thing I hope no body has bought me for myself. I start to draft the blog, wondering why I am still doing this but I know the reason why, I just have moments of self doubt occasionally. As I catch up on he drafting a friend rings, a very pleasant surprise as we have not spoken in a while. We of course talk about family preparations for Christmas and how things are going generally. The conversation is punctuated by my friend popping into the post office and then a shop to get a Christmas cake, so our conversation comes in a trilogy. I like that, it feels like I am out and about by proxy, I know full well that over next seventy four hours I am going to out and about myself shopping and visiting so its nice to join in with someone else doing it. We conclude our conversation and I return to writing the blog. I have a headache and resort to paracetamol before my evening begins. I’ve heard nothing from the book team to date and they are closing for Christmas tonight until the new year so I guess I need to be patient till 2024 before finishing the process and hopefully seeing my modest poetry collection published on Amazon.

The evening is upon me, there is festive TV and back series on i-player to watch. Christmas Roland will thank today Roland if he gets his arse in bed early tonight, which I think has to be the aim for today. As I go to bed I find my temporary tooth filling has come out, so tomorrow I need to try to get an emergency appointment with my dentist, I am not optimistic. It appears there is to be no let up in the seasonal aggravation and perturbations.

Tuesday and I wake into practical day, which means I need to get up have breakfast and take my morning meds before the plumber arrives. I manage all this before the plumber turns up and starts to work out the house water system. Eventually we get all the appropriate water sources turned off and he sets to work taking out the old shower and putting in the new one. One cup of tea and an hour later the new shower is in and working. I pay the plumber in crisp notes and wish him a merry Christmas.

My morning continues with the sorting out of my tax papers during which friends ring to say they are going to drop by. My papers come together around lunchtime just as my friends arrive to drop off a presents. We sit and chat for a while and bring them up to date with what has been going on for us. They are not able to stay long and soon head off. I get in to the garden and fill the squirrel and bird feeders before draining the water butt again. I am not feeling particularly good today and settle down to rest. The evening rolls around as does an early football match. I’ve already moved the car so Tesco, who are running late, can deliver and put the recycling out. Eventually Tesco deliver and Christmas goodies get put away before I have time to draft the blog.

By the end of the evening and I have taken my night meds I have a sense that my cancer is beginning to affect me more. I’m feeling tired and my gut is off. I think there is traces of blood in my urine. Its difficult to know for sure and of course it raises my anxiety. So I finish the draft blog and take myself to bed hopping that sleep will help.