I had had another rough night last night where I didn’t get to sleep before five.

But I was having a lovely deep sleep when the doorbell rang at nine. Fucking political canvassers! As usual by the time I got to the door they were gone and there was the inevitable “Sorry we missed you” scribbled on their pamphlet. Anyhows, I went straight back to sleep luckily.

I was going to go into the hospital today but Herself rang me however and said not to as I would be going there again tomorrow. Fair enough.

So I found myself with a clear day.

I was sitting here with a blank page on the laptop and had one of my “What is the meaning of life” thought trains. “42” says you? Maybe so. I did however decide that life is pretty good. I know we are having slight medical problems but Herself is slowly on the mend and I am getting somewhere with my treatment [an appointment counts as progress here]. I expect I’ll have a scan and autopsy biopsy. With a bit of luck maybe they’ll snip out the fungus and save another visit? What’s the worst that can happen? They cut off my nose? [“Grandad has no nose”. “How does he smell?” “Fucking terrible!”]

The blackbird is singing his head off as usual. It’s quite gusty out so I have to admire his perseverance as he insists on clinging to the highest trees in the South Wood.

The mob who painted our new back wall cladding fucked off on Monday leaving a mountain of rubbish in the front garden – paint tins, slabs of insulation material, several bulging black sacks and a rake of scrap metal and plastic. I phoned the gaffer on Wednesday and told him I wasn’t quite chuffed about that so he said he would do something. Yeah! Right!

I checked the CCTV this morning and the garden was completely clear of builder shit. Fair play. Going back over the footage, a bloke and his huge van had reversed into the garden and had loaded up the lot. That was around eight of the clock and he had the decency not to wake me. I hope the political canvassers were impressed when they called?

Penny is having one of her slightly better days. I have only had to pick her off the floor three times. She showed her gratitude by pissing on the carpet in front of me. Good dog!

And suddenly that blank page on the laptop has filled up with crap.

I wonder where it came from?