Tuesday and I wake up to the sound of my partner going out to the physio. I get up, do breakfast and just as I am downing my fresh coffee my partner returns. A five-car pileup on the way out of the village has prevented her from getting to the physio. An alternative time has been arranged. I saunter about doing Christmas admin stuff for a while and then go to the Shed to write letters and to further surf the net looking for meaningful presents for people. I have some success. I do manage to write a letter and then find I have only one stamp left. By lunchtime I am hungry and retreat to the house noting on my back to it that a rose bush is flowering. I ask you it’s almost December and yet this plant has lost all sense of propriety and is blatantly going out on a stem.

My partner returns from her lunchtime walk clutching (no pun intended) a dozen eggs. She has discovered that where Tesco (multinational food giant) has failed to provide our local shop and post office has succeeded. We celebrate with soup and a roll before she returns to the office for a team meeting over Teams. I pop over to the post office to send items and buy stamps. Of course, while I am there, I snaffle another dozen eggs, a paper and some non-alcohol beer for tonight’s big match. England play Wales in a must win game at the world cup. My afternoon is listless. I feel cold, its 15 degrees in doors. I put the bins out for tomorrow’s collection and move the cars onto the drive in the right order to facilitate my partners travel needs tomorrow. I retrieve a touch activate bedside lamp from the garage and spruce it up so my partners mother can try it out tomorrow to see if it meets her needs. Then I try to contact my sister, but she does not answer the phone, I assume she is busy and leave her a message on her mobile and then send her an email. My afternoon drifts and I feel as if I have a cold coming, I am half waiting for a mystery DHL delivery which I am assured by the tracker is out for delivery and will be with me soon. I am intrigued as I’ve no idea what it can be. By half four I notice that it is dark and after checking the updated energy bill for the month, I put the gas fire on for a while to thaw out and start to draft the blog.

The evening will be football and if I am lucky the penultimate episode of Wednesday while sipping a chilled non-alcohol beer. I had a strange craving for a medicinal brandy the other day. I am sure its related to Christmas coming and the old memories of my nondrinking mother who dead on 10 o’clock on Christmas morning would propose a sherry for everyone. It seems strange not to have a little something at Christmas, yet I’ve managed it for the last three years and prior to that I had periods in my life when I did not drink for years at a time, so I suspect the urge is something more than just a Christmas thing. I have friends who clearly enjoy the festive booze and I suspect I am jealous of their freedom to be able to indulge. I am conscious that I am having a set of bloods done and the results through in Christmas week, so I will be getting an up-to-date indication of how well my kidneys are functioning. As tempting as it is, my strategy is based on sabotaging myself as little as possible as I grapple with my cancer. Large amounts of alcohol are probably not wise no matter what the celebration. I end todays blog with the news that England won and play Senegal on Sunday in the knockout stage. I finish the Wednesday series and thoroughly enjoyed it. Night meds and bed.

Monday and I wake up warmly comfortable under the fluffy duvet and grudgingly get up to a breakfast of toast and fresh coffee. Before I eat, I weigh myself and I am pleased that I weigh in at 96.4 kilos, that’s just 0.2 kilos heavier than last week. Given that my training was restricted, and I was away for the weekend I am content with a minimal rise in weight. Meds taken I set about writing my to do list to get me through the week and to help me focus and prioritise till Christmas. Once complete I set out on my easy to do jobs that require me to be outside in the garden. I refill the bird feeders, top up the squirrel feeder and put fresh food in Fort Hog. Then I set about the main task of unblocking and clearing the down pipe from the guttering that feeds the water butt. The main pipe is clearly clogged but using my fiendish drain unblocking device I finally get the drainpipe clear and ensure that the flow is restored. Job done I pack away the tools and move inside.

As I sip a rewarding fresh coffee and open my post to find that I have a CT scan appointment for the 30th of December, so I am going to have a busy end of the year. I continue to move things from my end of the sofa office to the upstairs bedroom unit, which means I can have minimal crap around me apart from essential life and poetry admin along with my day-to-day journals and cash book. Having cleared the space, I can clean and polish the sofa side table and settle down to watch the end of yet another world cup football match. A 3-3 draw this one and quite exciting. So I arrive at lunch time feeling that I am making head way on the to do list. After a quick roll and coffee I settle down again to do some internet shopping. It is a tricky business trying to find the right thing for people and to time the deliveries. Of course, there is another football match going on but by now it is just wallpaper. I am shopped out quite quickly and resort to reading the gas and electric meters. Having checked they are in line with the previous months I submit them and note that our credit is currently in good shape but come the dread end of March I expect that to change. I am feeling the effort of the day and know that I cannot put off training much longer.

I get into my kit and make my way to the garage. I set myself up for a half hour row at my normal resistance level. It goes okay although I am feeling sluggish. Once again, I manage to go over the 6 kilometre and burn in excess of 400 calories.

After the session I rest for a while with the football on in the background. Eventually I get changed out of my kit and note that there is blood in my urine. I am disappointed as I did not think I had pushed hard in my training session. I start to drink lemon squash to help it clear over the next couple of hours. My partner and I eat tea and settle down for the evening. There is the final football match to watch, and I start to draft the blog. Tesco deliver mid-way through the evening, and I find that they have run out of eggs. Clearly the bird flu epidemic has hit the egg market and supply hard. So tomorrow I may well go on an egg hunt. I find some more photos from our visit to the butterfly zoo and decide to include them here as I think they are extraordinary.

So today ends with some more TV and meds before I go to bed. Tomorrow needs to be a Sheed day as I catch up with my letter writing and also check the garden camera to see if my hedgehog has been around.

Sunday and I wake up again in the Forest of Dean and I am brought a coffee by my youngest daughter to rouse us. My partner and I share bacon sandwiches with our youngest daughter and her fiancé. More coffee, conversation and morning meds follow. By lunchtime we leave for home as our hosts go off to Wales to the Big Pit mining museum.

The drive home goes very smoothly with no need for a stop. I am proud that over both journeys to and from our daughters that I was able to restrict my wine intake to less than half a bag. A swift coffee once I am home and then I set about unpacking and then reorganising the now emptier unit in the back bedroom as we have delivered some of its contents to our daughter. I relocate the books that have accumulated at my end of the sofa since the onset of COVID and my confinement and loss of office to home working by y partner. I’m quietly impressed with my reading over the last three years. Of course, once I get to the point at which I can do no more immediate reorganising I resort to World Cup football. The rest of the afternoon and evening is taken up with football, doing the Tesco order and drafting the blog. I then relax and settle into watching Wednesday the Netflix Addams family spin off. Its excellently dark and ironic. Filled with dark humour I go to bed.

https://youtu.be/3fRrfWOPSbU

Friday and it is the morning of watching Wales throw away their world cup chances by losing to Iran 2-0 and getting ready to drive to the Forest of Dean to see my youngest daughter and her fiancé. The dilemma was whether to buy wine gums for the journey or not. Having fulfilled the post football chores like feeding the hedgehog and filling the bird feeders I walked to the shop and got my driving wine gums. I had been reassured by a friend that the car was “a safe space” when it came to wine gums. Provisions acquired I load the car and my partner, and I set off for the Forest.

The drive was a good one for the distance with bright slanty sunshine in my eyes most of the way and only minimal delay due to road works on the M5. we have one stop for a pee and then drove on to arrive about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. We were greeted with coffee and time to catch up before our evening meal of chicken and chorizo with mash, a good warming autumnal meal. Soon after we drove to the local cinema, which is an incredibly quaint old-style cinema run as a private one as the owner just wants to be a cinema owner. There are no more than 10 of us in to watch the film on a Friday night. I sat through Black Panther Wakanda Forever for its 160+ minutes with luxury leg room. The comfort and the popcorn were excellent. The film was a disappointing follow up to the original and smacked of a girlie version for the sake of it. Most of the men in the film were portrayed as either power driven Neanderthals or weak ineffectual men, but then that’s a common trend across all media at the moment. We returned home to bed down for the night with me and partner snuggled under double duvets. By the end of the day, I am spoonless having driven so I was glad to get to bed.

Saturday and I wake to morning meds and black coffee. I get up slowly and make myself a second coffee before I join the rest of the household in the kitchen. We have croissants and fresh coffee and plan our day. We decide to visit a butterfly zoo and so we pile into a car and drive to Symonds Yat. We arrive at the zoo and get into the viewing area and find ourselves surrounded by beautiful butterflies. What follows is a sample of my photos and if the technology allows my new discovery of super slow motion.

When we are all butterflied out, we return to the car and drive to the Forest of Dean Heritage centre. We arrive at ten minutes past two o’clock to find they stopped doing food at 2 o’clock. Grumpily and disappointed we return home and eat sandwiches and coffee in the comfort of home. I start to draft the blog for the last two days before we get ready to go out for a good pub meal this evening at the Dog and Muffler. I anticipate an evening of good food, conversation, games and finally bed.

Thursday and once again I wake engulfed by the new fluffy duvet. These days it’s very tempting to stay snuggled down in the fluffiness, however I do get up and sort out my breakfast. There is of course football match on TV but a little way in a friend rings me and we chat for a long time. It was good to have the time to catch up and to compare how Christmas preparations are going. We range across lots of issues for an hour until my friend has to go to continue her progress around the supermarkets. I return to the football match until I get to fill in my world cup chart with the result.

There is more football coming but I cannot watch anymore, my conscience just won’t allow me to, so I change into my training kit. As my cold has stopped me from training over the last two days I need to put in a longer session, so I decide that I will go for an hour but reduce the resistance level by one. I get into the garage and find it is quite chilly and the rain is pouring down as I get strapped onto the rower.

The session starts slowly as I am wary of doing an hour after a couple of days off. I also have a lingering fear that an hour rowing might lead to me pissing blood again, so I am gentle with myself. The session goes smoothly once I am warmed up. Once I get through the first half hour, I relax a bit and then pick off the remaining time in five-minute chunks that roughly equate to 1000 metres. At the end of the hour, I am satisfied with the session and glad that I have it out of the way for today. As I am going away for the weekend I need to think when I can train, if at all and keep an eye on my diet.

I return to the lounge and record the session and sit and stare for a while. I change out of my kit and put my washing in. To refuel I make peanut toast and coffee. I settle down with I am David my new book from my friend. It is supposed to be a children’s book, but it does not read like a child’s book and its subject is very adult and although written in the early 1960s and deals with the issues that surrounded the forced labour camps that held up to 2.5 million people. As I say not easy stuff for children but written so it is accessible.

More football follows as does tea. I retrieve my washing and hang it on the airer before settling down to draft the blog to the background wallpaper off Brazil versus Serbia. In truth I have run out of spoons right now and have started to plan my day tomorrow. I need to train, pack for the weekend and drive down to the Forest of Dean. A busy day in which I will have to resist the temptation of “driving wine gums”.

Wednesday and I wake up under the fluffy new duvet and I am still pleased at the decision to buy one. I get up and shower in preparation for my visit to the chiropodist. A quick coffee and morning meds and I drive to the next village where my chiropodist practices. I park in the local co-op store car park and walk over to the chiropodist. A surprise awaits me. My usual chiropodist Jane has retired, and I am greeted by Emma. It turns out that Jane has legged it into retirement and handed on her practice to Emma. Emma has graduated this year and as a local and a friend of Jane has taken over the practice. She tells me all this as she soaks my feet in magic nail softening solution. I of course grill her (subtly) about how she became a chiropodist and what sort of course she did. She has the scalpel in her hand as she explains the three-year degree and all the placements that she did and what a network the chiropodists have. So, after more gentle prodding about future plans: it’s possible to do an MSc apparently, and to build a chain of clinics, I am done and finished with a gentle massage of foot cream. Back to the co-op to collect pizzas and the car. I return home with happy feet and have breakfast.

I watch a football match and then refill the bird feeders. The birds are hungry and emptying the feeders quickly. Winter is here as the birds have come in from the fields. The squirrels are going through peanuts like there is no tomorrow. The food has gone from Fort Hog so I top the bowl up before returning to the house. I skip lunch as I had a late breakfast and set about writing my Christmas cards. I return to last year’s list and cross off the dead and estranged then work my way through my list trying to select appropriate cards from selection. All my cards are Japanese, I find them less cheesy than the standard Ho Ho Merry Christmas stuff. Once they are all written I stick the stamps on and then seal them all with a gold seal, my Christmas touch. The post arrives and in it is a book. My friend has sent me another book, it is a classic children’s book that has never gone out of print. When I open it, I find this inscription: ” Happy Birthday Ruby. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did” signed “Auntie Vicki xx 26/1/21.” My friend is green minded and always sends me preloved books. It seems apt. I read the back cover and the additional information; it looks like a book I will enjoy.

Christmas cards completed, almost, they will sit until December chimes and will then be posted. Nothing like getting in early. My partner return from visiting her mother and we watch the end of another football match. We have an early tea and I get ready to receive an old supervision client who has asked for some time to process some material. My old client arrives, and we spend an hour talking through the material and thinking about the future. My client leaves and I watch the end of the final football match of the day. Once over, I draft the blog with the intention of retreating to the new fluffy duvet with my new book. Night meds taken I meander towards the comfort of my reading nest noting that I have not trained today and that my cold appears better, so I shall return to training tomorrow.

Tuesday and it’s a day of surprises. The biggest one is that I appear to have a cold. So I I resort to Actifed and working my way through a to do list interspersed with world cup football. Having had breakfast, I clear the kitchen and watch some football. Bored with the football I prepare a parcel and wrap some presents. Lunch of soup follows, and I put the newly arrived 16.5 Tog duvet on the bed with a little help from my eldest daughter. My next chore is sorting my car out for tomorrow and the trip later in the week. I drive to the garage and fill the tank and then check the tyres. Back home I walk to the cash machine in the village shop and draw cash to see me through the coming week.

I watch football until my partner returns from work and then after a while we eat the meal I put in the crockpot earlier. Another football match follows. I clear the kitchen, move the car back onto the drive so that I can go to the chiropodist tomorrow. I write the blog, a terse version that befits the cold filled day I’ve had. I am hoping that tomorrow sees me recovered and my feet sing with joy as they usually do after they have been pampered. I also need to be focused and clear as I am seeing an old supervision client for a single session to process a specific case. So an early night. I take my meds while watching the final episodes of The English and then go to bed.

Monday, I wake to the household working. I make my breakfast and go to the Shed for the first time in a while. I sit to write letters as the rain pours down. As it’s been a while the ink and pen come slowly and in less of a flow than usual. I persist till almost 1 o’clock at which point I stop and eat a light lunch before sitting down to watch England thrash Iran 6-2. I take time out to post my letters, buy Christmas card stamps and to move the car from the drive to let Tesco deliver later. Just before 4 o’clock they deliver. I order a new 16.5 Tog duvet as I am feeling the cold and want to ensure that I am warm at night. I sense this is going to be a cold and long winter. Another match followed, Wales this time, who struggled to a 1-1 draw with the USA. Tea is eaten during the match. By the end of the match is gone 9 o’clock. It’s time to train, the garage will be cold, so I decide to do 45 minutes. I plug in my headphones and get going. It’s hard work to start with but gets easier as the session goes on.

I record my session and write the bog. All that is left is to take my evening meds and go to bed. This is going to be a tough world cup in terms of my training, I need to get better organised.

Sunday, my rest day so I laze a bit before getting up. In truth it was a busy dream night and I woke up tired out having tried to get a prison roll right for what seemed all night. I’ve no idea what triggered this or what my pixies were trying to tell me. As it’s a Sunday it’s my weigh in day so I go off to the bathroom and get myself as light as possible. I step on the scales and then look down.

96.2 kilos. That is 1.6 kilos lost this week. The Rocket effect.

I am of course pleased but know that these are the ease kilos and as I get closer to Christmas it will be more difficult to shed the weight. I record the outcome in my food and training journal while my partner produces bacon sandwiched for breakfast. I drink fresh coffee and re-fill my medication wallets. Having celebrated with my bacon sandwich my partner and I go to the garden centre and stock up with vegetables and fruit for the week. On return my partner goes off to the gym and my eldest daughter takes a trip to the local bird garden. My intention was to watch a rugby match but I decided to clean the house. I hoover through and empty bins. I clear the kitchen. Once things are more organised and cleaner, I do settle down to watch the first game of the football World Cup. It’s an average game with the hosts losing.

The evening is filled with chicken pie and the Strictly results show. Part of my evening will be balancing my training time and the world cup over the coming week; it will be a master stoke of timetabling. I’ve committed one early evening to providing a one-off supervision/processing session for an old supervision client, so I am hoping there are no tasty games on that evening. I’m missing my Shed time, more precisely I am missing not having written to anyone in the last week. It feels odd and slightly rude and neglectful. Tonight, I shall draft the blog, take my meds and go to my bed early. It’s going to be a demanding week to maintain my Rocket offence on my fitness and diet.

Saturday, I am the last one up and I am met on the stairs by my partner carrying warm drinks. We drink them in the lounge, and I make myself a muesli breakfast. I spend time rebooting the printer and after much juggling of ignorance and button pushing, I manage it. I run off the poems for this afternoon and put them neatly in order in a folder so that I can read them easily at the poetry stanza meeting. Before lunch I drive my partner to the local charity shop to drop off some clothes. Our charity shop of choice is “Sod the Aged” as it is affectionately known in our household. We drive home and have a quick lunch before I go to the office and log on via Zoom to the Stanza meeting.

There are about 12 of us online. People read out other people’s poems and then the group talk about them for ten minutes, after which the poet can comment. Its an interesting process. There is one man’s poetry that really grabs me and I always try to be the person who reads his poem. He seems the most poetic to me as he seems to be able to create powerful feelings and vivid images. It is poetry that I feel at a gut level. Much of the rest is good as well but I think the dissection that takes place is more projection, agenda and competition. I don’t give a fuck about rhyme and assonance and all the other bollocks that gets talked about, it’s just poetry industry jargon to keep the plebs out, I’m only interested in how it makes me feel and whether it rattles my inner universe in some way. I add bits of my own so I suppose I am being drawn into the dialogue I dislike. By the end I have had enough. The next meeting is going to be face to face in the local Quaker meeting house before Christmas, which I am looking forward to. People in the flesh are always best, mostly.

I go from poetry to watching England versus the All Blacks. It’s a good match that ends in a draw, which is a relative scarcity in the rugby world at international level. My partner and I eat tea and then settle down to watch Strictly. It’s getting competitive now as there no clear duffers left so who ever goes next will be a reasonable dancer. Strictly comes to an end and I change into me training gear determined to get a session in today. Cancer never rests and neither does Rocket, except on Sundays after the weigh in. I get into the garage and climb onto the rower, its 9 degrees, winter is coming. I do half an hour at my regular level with Rammstein loud in my ears. Its a typical end of week session, the fatigue is beginning to show. I do less then 6000 metres and burn less than 400 calories. It will have to do, I’ve no more to give.

I retrieve my laptop from the lounge and retreat to bed to draft the blog. Once done I shall take my meds and sleep. Tomorow is weigh in day, rest day and in the case of this particular tomorrow it is the start of the World Cup. I know that I shall get hooked despite all my good intentions.