Friday. Up at 7 to take the antibiotics. Back to bed till 9. I’m not sure what I do with the morning apart from eat muesli and stare out of the window. I notice that next door is having a delivery and I realise I am suffering delivery envy. I’ve nothing ordered and not expecting anything and I feel acutely peeved about it. I ‘ve not got the time or the inclination to dig about trying to understand it I just feel the disappointment. I’m even more pissed off when the postman delivers the mail. Its all for me! I do not open a single item as everyone of them is an advert/catalogue/begging letter (charity guilt tool) and they go straight into the recycle bin. I realise that this is not a good place to be so I take a car to the garage to fill it and check the tyres discovering on the way that the village has the power company digging up its main road and creating havoc with temporary lights. I return to the village an alternative way and then take the the other car to fill and check its tyres. So now I’m all cared up and no where to go. My partner and daughter went out for a walk and to bring lunch back from the chippy. A friend rings and we chat COVID, sugar and sewing until the food arrives. So a rare lunch at the table. Its been a long time since I indulged in chips so I ended up feeling fuller that I had done for a long time.
Shed time. I change into my training gear and open up the shed. I write a letter and take a short trot to the post box. Back in the shed I experiment with some ink and brush work, but it is not a great success, something that needs more work. In desperation I climb on the bike and give myself a good work out, so good I fall short of a personal best by a meagre 200metres.
Calories 
Kilometres
I get back to the house and run a bath. I note that I am pissing blood due to the effort I put into exercise session. According to my oncologist if I push too hard it irritates my prostrate, hence the blood in the urine. My stance is I’m far more irritated with my cancerous prostate than it can be irritated by me. My bath is bath bombed and I enjoy the warmth and aroma of it while I read David Jason’s second volume of autobiography. Once sated I get out and join my partner in the lounge. It is Comic Relief night but also a rugby night so my evening is a mixture of sport and comically packaged charity appeal. It comes to an end and I write the blog against a background of squabbling vaccine spokesman and journalists, its a depressing backdrop of agendas and bickering, mostly rooted in the perceived haves and have nots. The overall sense is that England is doing well compared to the rest of the world. Tomorrow thank goodness is nearly all rugby although it would be nice be able to get into the garden and get some organising done.
