Tuesday and the Bank Holiday nonsense is over and its back to work for the rest of the household while I drink coffee and read in bed before getting up for breakfast. Once up and dressed I attend to some basic email stuff and some general life admin before I begin to think about training. In my Sparta state I am pressed to train earlier in the day to ensure I fulfil my training requirements. By noon I am in the garage and strapped onto to the rowing machine and ready to go, with Composer of the week in my ears. Today, William Walton. I pull for an hour burning 800+ calories and going 13+ kilometres. Its a good session following on from yesterdays effort in the gym.

I change and prepare chicken soup for lunch, no roll note. Its time to go to the Shed but before I do I notice that the Iris in the front bed have come out so take a picture of it. There is a profusion of nature going on in my garden that is quietly getting on with it.

I get to the Shed and sit and write letters for a while. I’ve got a new stock of butterfly stickers which I liberally apply to the letters. My ink supply has run out and I need to open my new bottle of drawing ink but before I can do that I must rinse out and clean my triple ink well and refill flask. Its a messy and job but I get it done and successfully fill my inkwell with the new ink, I try my five most used pens adn find the new ink flows well with all of them. I close the Shed up and walkover to the post box to send my letters on their way. I’m reading when the garden guy turns up so I make him coffee, pay him and move the car of the drive so he can load up some wood. With the bin out for tomorrows collection I am once again on the sofa reading Sophie’s World. I am up to the Indo Europeans now and the philosophy is getting a bit more subtle. A friend rings on her way to shopping after a day of overseeing cake making, its a education strike day so there are children to be occupied. We chat briefly before I get the call that my evening meal is ready.

My evening starts with a meal and then I move the car back to the drive and settle down on the recliner to read a bit more and to start drafting the blog. Now its all about waiting for Tesco to deliver and trying to get an early night, my head is already thinking about tomorrows exercise session. At the moment I am planning the gym. The evening is a challenge, I crave sweet stuff but its not part of my getting ready for radiotherapy. I also have to resist the urge to “graze”. I know its driven by boredom, or in other words “my needs are not being met” so I keep busy and try to feed my brain in other ways. So tonight there will be Tesco, reading, blogging, Murder in the First, a great deal of moisturising and self care before bedding down.

Happy May Day, its the day Rocket and I go to Sparta in our quest for Radiotherapy readiness, although I suspect it will be a road of many bumps and temptations. I wake up with my new knew cushion nestled between my knees adn it feels comfortable and good. I declare my knee cushion a good buy and a new boon to me getting a better nights sleep. My partner brings me coffee and we chat before getting up. There are bacon bagels for breakfast before my partner starts to pursue her to do list and I head for the garden.

The garden is beginning to burgeon with growth and looks quite verdant, however the bird feeders are empty as is the squirrel feeder. I refill the feeders and check the hedgehog canteen. I have a pang of glumsiness as I find the food I put out untouched. Does this mean that my hedgehog has gone. They are creatures of habit so it could be that the hedgehog is dead. I remove the food and will decide later to put more out once I have checked the garden camera. The camera confirms that the hedgehog is still alive but not visiting as frequently, perhaps there is more natural food available as Spring develops. What I do have is a lot of footage of a fox, its visiting about once a week now, probably attracted by the smell of hedgehog food. The squirrels are also camera stars as they pat down each of the excavations that they make.

Its time to go to the gym so I gather up my kit and prepare my bag. I drive my partner and I to the gym, buy water for the session, forget to take my bottle off the counter adn go to the changing rooms. Once on the gym floor I select a cross trainer and get myself going on an hour long session. I’m going for a full session for the first time in a long time and I am not sure how it will go. I plug Rammstein into my ears loudly and set off at a steady pace. By the end of the session I am tired and very sweaty but triumphant in the feeling of completion. Its a good first session in the new era of Sparta. I’ve burnt in excess of 650 calories and gone 6.9 kilometres, I am happy with that, so is my fitness App, which tells me my PAI score is 200 and that I have earned the maximum of 75 PSI points I can earn in a single day. Never done that before, so well pleased. I go to change and to shower.

Once changed and showered I am in the lounge having a large black coffee waiting for my partner. We drink and compare notes on our sessions. I’m ready to go home and my partner surprises me with the suggestion that we go to the nearby Italian restaurant for tea. We walk across and get a booth where we order ourselves an indulgent meal. The meal is good but there comes a point where I need a piss and this is a worry. Having had a longer session on the cross trainer than I have had for a while I am not sure how my body will respond. It’s in this situation that I have pissed blood before so I go to the toilet with some anxiety. To my relief (excuse the pun) there is no sign of blood. It makes such a difference to my confidence for future sessions and means I should be able to row for an hour tomorrow. The bill comes. Its a card only, no cash restaurant and the fuckers have put on 10% service charge automatically. I hate that, it feels like taking the piss even though the bill says its at my discretion. They rely on people just paying it. We tell them to take the service charge off and they bring us a new bill. I wave a card and then press a fiver into the waitress’s hand telling her that its for her. We leave and I drive us home.

Once home and I sort out my kit, hang my towel out to dry and settle down to write the days blog. I do this as the final of the world snooker championship is taking place. Luca Brecel the Belgium looks odds on to beat the Leicester boy Mark Selby. Its going to be a down beat evening as I have no spoons left to spend today. Already my head is in tomorrow, the need to train, diet and be in Sparta mode. Tonight of course I must remember to moisturise my gut, there are only potentially 17 moisturising days to the Radiotherapy oncology appointment.

Sunday, yes its Sunday, it really is Sunday and my first job of the day is to correct yesterdays blog to read Friday and Saturday as I had clearly lost track of the days. My reasoning is that when you stop watching TV and being concerned with the Real World and replace it with reading, writing and reflecting the differences between days become blurred. No post on Sundays is a bit of a marker but then if you don’t get post every other day it can be a bit confusing and feel that Sundays come around too often. As for this Sunday, I laze in bed catching up with messages, emails and Amazon orders. Oh were is my knee pillow? One message amused me, I share it here:

So raising my sloth like self from bed I have breakfast and then participate in the call to my youngest daughter, a regular Sunday marker event. Yep today must be Sunday if I am talking to my youngest. My biggest challenge of the day, apart from getting dressed is whether to enter a poem in the Poetry Society members competition. Its not so much a matter of entering but whether I can cope with the inevitable rejection and failure. Its clear from my previous attempts in the arena, and my Poetry Stanza experiences, that my poetry is, in the eyes of the poetriati, crap and not what is regarded as the genuine article. Inside a little hope remains but maybe not for today. All I have by way of poetic inspiration is a single phrase: “crumulent concreteers” , and that is a long way off being a poem or even a coherent expression of anything tangible. It would appear that this Sunday could be a long draw out affair. While others juggle ferrets and grow Dangerous Beans I caste around for meaning, which probably means I will end up in the garden or the Shed.

I end up doing nothing apart from watching a couple of rugby matches and indulging in lemon drizzle cake. It is my response to rain and a household sewing and working, My entire excitement for the day has been a face to face with my youngest daughter and the arrival of my knee pillow. In truth my injection site as been sore and made me feel less like wanting to prance about like a spring lamb, hence the sedentary nature of my day. It will all change tomorrow as it is the the first of May and a Monday which means I shall screw up all my resolve and begin the serious run in to my Radiotherapy oncology appointment on the 18th of May. A new diet and training regime with an added yoga content is the plan. My moisturising regime has to be adhered to and I probably should be beginning to regularise my bed time routine. Its time to awaken my inner Spring and gambol towards the new experience of radiotherapy. So just the last six hours of April in which to indulge myself and then I become a Spartan. I place where the question “and will there still be honey for tea” will be met with a resounding “no!” I have books to read, a garden to tend and a body to hone, what’s not to get excited about? I’ll see you all in May. So here we go gathering nuts in May or more accurately, “here we go gathering knots in May” meaning here we go gathering knots of flowers, an old May day custom, Pagan of course and apt as I enter Sparta. So an evening meal, football highlights, meds and bed for me in my pupate state before I begin to emerge as a new butterfly for Spring.

Friday, seems an age ago, only it was yesterday. There are two things that stand out, training and a meal out. These were both delightful except that they were preceded by my monthly injection and an additional B12 jab. So by the time I was ready to train my gut was sore and I was taking paracetamol to ease the pain. Ditto the evening meal. There was also a nasty surprise in the redirected mail from my deceased sisters house. The neighbours have signalled their intent to extend their property and it affects the partitioning wall, so there is going to be a lot of jiggery pokey and legal argie bargie before it is resolved. The last thing I want is our estate agent trying to sell the house while next door is a building site that threatens to overlook part of the property. There were trips to the post office to send documents to the solicitor. Oh happy May Bank Holiday.

The training session was my first in six days and an act of defiance really as I felt sore and was determined not to let a full week go by without session. I decided on a gentle hour at a “jogging level”. I strapped in and began to pull into my rhythm. By the end of the session I am trying as I realise I might be able to make the 13 kilometre mark. I do and I am pleased.

There is time for me to recover adn shower before driving of to the next village and meet friends for an evening meal. The company is good, the best, with lots of conversation and catching up with what we have been doing. We are in a “gastro” pub and our fellow diners are all around us. The bars of he pub are also open. Having eaten our main courses we take a break to let it go down and continue to chat. By the time we contemplate puddings or coffee we are informed the kitchen is closed and the coffee machine is on its cleaning cycle. Its half past nine o’clock for Christ sake. Last orders bell rings at 10:30 and we are the last people in the pub. I conclude from this that pubs are dying, no longer are they community places, they are no fanciful food outlets who want you to eat, pay and fuck off. We pay and leave saying our farewells in the car park having fixed another date to meet.

Once home I take my meds and more paracetamol and watch tonight’s Have I Got News For You before going off to bed. The day appears to have been fuller than I first remembered when I started todays blog. I’m not sure if this is good or bad or perhaps just inconsequential. However in the day I found time to start Sophie’s World.

Saturday and I wake up after a disturbed night. My foot is giving me gyp so my partner examines it and applies a soothing ointment. We get up for breakfast and I put the evening meal in the crockpot. There is shopping to do so we go to the garden centre and load up with vegetables and bacon. On returning home I do a Tesco order and settle down to watch the women’s international rugby. England romp their match and the Welsh manage to beat the Italians for the first. Its soon time for the evening meal and an evening of film and the excitement of seeing my football team win. This Saturday is a bits and pieces day, a kind of clearing the decks for the days to come. I am marking time till my injection site feels less sore and my foot eases. Sometimes its good to breathe and pay attention to it.

Thursday and its late. I am spoonless and very tired. All I have energy for, is to say that today I finished reading Notes from the Burning Age by Claire North. I also visited the chiropodist for my regular hoof fix, which was delightful and dealt with yet more solicitor correspondence. So I sit full of my night meds and the additional paracetamol that I take before my monthly injection. Tomorrow I rise to be at the GP by 8 o’clock to be injected.

Wednesday, is it to be sofa day or not is my waking thought. As is my growing custom I read for a while before getting up. My partner brings me a coffee and I read a little more. finally I get up and have breakfast and ring Sofology. “Where’s my sofa?” is the gist of my conversation with a nice chap on the help line. He tries to ring the distribution centre but fails to get through. He promises me to ring me back. I put my washing in and go to the Shed to fill my sticker box with newly arrived butterflies. I check the hedgehog canteen, the food remains untouched, I am beginning to fear for my hedgehog. A friend calls and we chat about families, she is on the way to pick up one of her daughters who is vomiting at school, which of course is going to throw the days plans out of kilter. I manage to get my washing out on the line before ringing the Sofology helpline again. This time the woman I talk to gets through to the distribution centre in Doncaster and talks to the woman in charge of deliveries. Good news it’s on its way and the driver will ring my in half an hour with an arrival time. Time to spring into action.

I clear the delivery path in to the house moving pots of daffodils from the door step and move cars around to free up the drive. But the big job is to move the existing furniture out of the way so that the new can be brought in. I and my partner strip the cushions of the sofa and chair and then my eldest daughter and I move the skeletons of the furniture to the hall way. Its a real effort but we got there.

We had just about got everything clear when the Sofology van arrives. MY partner goes off to see her mother and so the van can be moved closer to our drive. Before she goes she negotiates the van drivers moving the old suite into the front garden where later is can be dismantled. To my surprise they agree and do this removal first, so my garden takes on a new look.

As the delivery guys get to work I make them tea and biscuits. They are very quick and efficient and soon the new items are in place. The new furniture makes a huge difference to the room and of course I cannot resist a test run.

I set about putting all the things we had moved back in place and hoover around the house. Once everything is back in place its time to get my washing in and to close up the Shed. I also take the time to add the new pond plants that have arrived to the pond. I go down to the chemist to get my outstanding drugs to find they have lost the original prescription and have to dispense my missing drugs from a second prescription that has been issued due to my GP surgery closing for a couple of weeks to train on and switch to a new operating system. I wait over half an hour for them to sort it out and then they still cannot find all the drugs I am due. Its an absolute clusterfuck. I buy chocolate at the village shop and return home. I’ve just about finished all this when my partner returns home to be followed very shortly by our garden guy who is going to dispose of our old furniture for us. He sets to work on the solid frames and is soon borrowing a lump hammer and a power screw driver. Its not long before I am out there with him lending a hand. We manage to get it into its component parts and then he tidies up. By about 7 o’clock we are done and our guest for the evening has arrived. My partner and our guest go out for dinner while I and my eldest daughter order take away and I settle down to watch football on TV. The Indian meal is good and sets me up to recline luxuriously through the football match. Game over I draft the blog with a growing sense of becoming spoonless, I’ve done a lot of physical stuff today and now it is catching up with me.

Tuesday and it is to be a day out. Firstly as its 7 o’clock I read for an hour and a half before I get up for Its breakfast. A quick shower and I am driving to my friends house who drives us to Kedleston Hall. Its a big old house whose family originally supported William the Conquer and over the generations generations built a huge house and pleasure gardens. In order to do this the family moved an entire village to facilitate the landscaping of the park and grounds. Today its still a very impressive house filled with goodies from all over the world.

My friend and I do the short walk and end up walking through the old church, which is full of the tombs of the Curzon family. Most of the tombs date from the 1700s but there is one marker stone dates 1245 and was thought to be the marker for the fourth Earl/Duke. Nearby is a folly, apparently all good estates had follies.

We lunch and continue to chat before visiting the second hand book shop. I scan the shelves and find nothing and think for once I am going to get out of a book shop with out one. I was wrong. I spotted the books displayed above the shelves and there was my prize. The collected poems of Clive James, not someone whose poetry I knew very well. I cannot pass up such an excellent bargain and buy the book.

When I get home later I read some of the poems and I am stunned by them. If you have a moment read One Man to Another. Perhaps I will put it here in the future. The actual house is an amazing display of wealth and power, trees were grown in curves in order to make curved floor boards for a curved corridor. That’s indulgence of wealth. Dotted around the house are volunteers who are ready to tell you anything you wants to know about the room you are in and there are people in costume. One in particular is dressed as the famous house keeper that showed Ben Johnson around the house. She looked uncannily like the portrait of the woman that hangs at the bottom of the stairs. She was full of interesting facts about the house keeper and the history of the family. A final cup of coffee and a biscuit and my friend drives us back to her house were I pick up my car and drive home. Running through this day are the attempts to verify that the new sofa is going to be delivered tomorrow and that it is okay to chop up the old one. These efforts fail adn the expected phone call does not emerge. The result of this is that the guy who is going to chop up the old one cannot do it and kindly agrees to come again tomorrow if the new one arrives.

I arrive home to have the difficult conversation with the sofa chopper and then run my oldest daughter to the late chemist to get antibiotics for her possibly infected toe. Finally the family are able to sit down to eat and move into the evening, watching TV, knitting, reading, putting bins out, washing up and finally for me to take my meds and go to bed having drafted the blog. Its been a long but full day. It does me good to get away from the house and into the fresh air to see new places or things. I’m frustrated about the sofa but apart from that its been a good day. Hopefully things will go smoothly tomorrow. Although the day is a good day I reach the end of it spoonless.

Monday and I wake to the family at work in the various nooks and crannies of the house. I read for an hour and then get up for breakfast. I clear the kitchen and then I go to the Shed and settle in for a letter writing session. I write all morning until my partner tempts me out with a bacon sandwich. The post man has been and there is a new book for me from a friend. It is Jostein Gaarder’s Sophie’s World and it looks interesting. So I now have plenty of reading material to keep me going for a while.

There is nothing in the post for me about my up coming MRI scan so I ring the hospital and ask if they have a date for me. I am not hopeful and not expecting anything but a kind man tells me I am up on the 8th of May at 10:45. So a result, which pleases me. I return to the Shed and continue to write letters until I have nothing else to say. Rather than close up the Shed I pull out a couple of small of canvas boards that I had worked on years ago inspired by looking out a plane window as we landed in Spain some years ago. I start to complete them using the calligraphy ink that I was given at Christmas. I get so far and decide to leave it to dry. I pack up the Shed and return to the house. A quick trip to the post box and I am back home on the sofa reading. Out of the blue Tesco deliver four hours early. It would seem that life is random as just after that the sofa shop rings to say they cannot deliver tomorrow to which my partner says that can’t do that and they relent and phone back to say they will deliver. However they also say that they will ring tomorrow. It remains to be seen if they do. I check the hedgehog food and find it untouched. This is mildly worrying but I replace the food with a fresh dish. I check my seedlings in the greenhouse and water them and then I have a bit of a chat to them and zip the greenhouse up as tonight is going to be a frost.

My evening see mem eat and then reach the end of series one of Murder in the First. Almost time for bed and meds but first I draft the blog. I’ve not trained today as I just did not feel up to it, hopefully tomorrow I am on form as I am going for coffee with a friend.

Sunday, I wake late thinking Chinchilla and go and weigh myself. I am 0.5 kilos lighter this week at 97.5 kilos. I am surprised but I’m content with this. I think I am settling for keeping my weight stable rather than constantly reducing. When I was reducing down before I was able to train hard, however if I train that hard now I piss blood so there has to be some moderation. I also haven’t cut out all treats like, there needs to be some pleasures in life and for me sweet things are one of them.

I and my partner have coffee in bed and then we get up and make our respective breakfasts. We then make our Sunday face time call to our youngest daughter, who is now 27 weeks pregnant. Its a long chat as we bring each other to speed with what is going on in the respective households as there is much going in both. Preparing for a new baby to arrive, readying the house, managing a recovering grandparent and keeping track of my sisters estate are just a few of the things going on. At the end of the call my partner gets ready to go to the gym intending to drop off a birthday present for our two year old grand niece.

Of course once my partner goes off to the gym I set about mending the under unit kitchen lighting. I run through the usual checks and in the end conclude that it is the actual light housing that is no longer functional. No alternative to going to the local Wickes to pick up a replacement housing. I drive to Wickes clutching the body of the dead light. Once at the store I search the lighting shelves and find the modern equivalent of my dead light. Unfortunately the size I want will not fit the cabinet I want to fix it under s.o I have to look for an alternative, As Wickes do their own version I get two of them and return home with them. I test the replacement before fixing it in place, All goes well and son there is illumination under my previously dark kitchen cabinet, Once again the work surface is fully illuminated. I pack my tools away and settle down to watch international women’s rugby. Wales get turned over by the French as expected. I switch to watching the FA cup semi final. Its couch living, I know and my only excuse is that I have a busy week in front of me.

My couch living goes on into the evening which includes a meal, coffee adn chocolate. I get too full of sweet stuff (I have my limits), and go into the kitchen to clear it. I spend time clearing the kitchen and getting it morning ready before I return to Murder in the First and then meander towards my bed via my meds. I’ve a busy week ahead of me so as always when faced with a busy week I batten down the hatches, watch my diet after a weekend of indulgence and then train hard, write lots and move forward. There is lots of death and illness washing around at the moment and I wonder just how much I have soaked up and made me wonder more about my own situation.

Saturday and I wake up early and make drinks for myself and partner. I read for a while as my partner snoozes. We chat for a while and then I get up and go to the chemists to collect my monthly drugs haul. I put my prescription in on last Sunday and still the chemists have not got all my meds. I come away with just my injection which is due this Friday. the chemist is increasingly under pressure as the new housing estates in the village are placing a bigger demand on the villages infrastructure and services. I return home with a paper and bacon.

My first job is to fill my drugs wallets for the next two weeks. I find I have enough so drugs to do this and soon I am fully loaded for the fortnight to come. There are bacon sandwiches and coffee for breakfast along with some interesting mail. I am pleased to find a letter from a friend in Scotland and put it to one side so that I can give it the time and attention that it deserves. There is also a small box containing fresh pod weed and a larger parcel that yields up my new ice hockey jersey. I wasn’t going to buy anymore ice hockey jerseys but I could not resist an English one for about £20. It puts Milton Keynes into my collection.

First job is to get the pond weed into the pond so I go into the garden and drop it into the pond. While I am there I cut back last years growth on the ferns so that the new growth is freed up. I stake a shrub that has collapsed and then re-net then pond. Back in the house I make another coffee and sit and read my new letter. As always it is full of interesting news, observations adn thoughts. I am not feeling at my best but get ready to go to the garden centre to shop for fruit and veg.

My partner drives us to the garden centre and we shop for our fruit and veg. I’m not feeling particularly good so when we return to shop at the butchers I wait in the car. We return home and I head for the sofa to rest and watch the women’s international rugby match, which leads me onto the FA cup semi final.

An evening of food and Murder in the First, night meds and bed past midnight hoping to be tired enough to sleep deep and peacefully.