MAY 2023: IAN'S SECOND RADIOTHERAPY BLOG

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here. All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS, GO AND GET CHECKED.

May 1st:

I decided to start the blog off before the actual radiotherapy sessions take place, because it's not just about those two weeks. The whole thing is a pretty rubbish package and not having what goes on a bit either side isn't being real about it. So here's the minutae of my month. If you're really unlucky, it will go part-way into June. You are not obliged to read it.

After getting in feeling just shattered from the jam night well after 11pm last night, I just got my guitars in and left the rest of the gear in the car. That can be dealt with tomorrow morning, in broad daylight, after coffee and such. I have big solid gates that even I can't get past them, so it is safe and certainly secure enough.

At one time, we engaged a local fencing firm (whose name strongly suggests they are from the locality and that they do fencing) to do some wooden gates and they just fell apart within a couple of weeks. That was a battle royal. We didn't get our money back from them, so they occasionally get dropped into conversation with people we know. You do a good job and you get a recommend / you do a bad job and everyone knows you're bad. We decided never to have rubbish fencing or gates ever again. We don't have wooden fencing anymore either, as it just rots. The bordering fences to us have some wooden panels in and they are now disintegrating. Those neighbours don't really seem to care. I can see us having to replace those panels too. Better than having big holes there and the dogs getting out that way.

At 5.55am I am woken up by Mr BarkBark (Oscar, our Romanian rescue dog) woofing repeatedly every five seconds or so. He's gone outside and he hasn't worked out yet that that big cat flap that he goes through opens inwards as well. So I carefully disengage myself from the mess of cats and dogs that surround me in bed, troop downstairs and let him in. If I can hear him, so can the neighbours. I don't want to be interviewed by anyone about my dog barking: "Tell your dog to stop barking." "OK, I will have a word with him." Nah. I pay the bathroom a quick visit, seeing as I am up and about and I give Silver a quick tickle as she is perched on the bannister at the top of the stairs and go back into the bedroom. Oscar decided to try to steal my place in the bed.

I quite like this time in the morning. It's light, there's nobody about. I can deal with that. I hardly ever see it, though. I manage to reclaim my spot in bed somehow, with a bare minimum of Oscar growling and we have to repeat the entire performance at 8.30am. This time I beat Oscar to my place in the bed, but Edward, our big white cat, has decided to get under the covers next to me and he had decided I need scratching. I resist the urge to murder him. Just.

I wake again at 9.30am when my alarm goes off and stop it. Back to sleep. Tom licks my face at 10.30am to tell me I am being idle. I am well aware of this and apart from the odd bark when he looks out of the window at a nearby park area, I am undisturbed until around 1pm. Slack living. I sleep when I need it. I don't work to a timetable.

I do work though - two or often three evenings a week with the band and also I am working hard on a number of book projects for several hours a day and I've just done the grunt work (sleeve and label art for a single release - not mine, one that will break even). I keep myself rather busy in office hours. I've always had a fairly constant work ethic. Stop sniggering at the back if you worked for DWP, I got my stuff done there, too.

I'm selling a limited edition book in an Ebay auction to help finance a limited edition Slade-related project. The auction ended on May 8th.  (It sold for £208).

I get up and make some strong coffee. Lynda is watching a series of a version of Below Deck that I haven't been watching. I don't have the will to watch all of the different spin-off seasons of this, so I came upstairs to write this blog. There's loads of stuff I thought about during my earlier periods of wakefulness that I have missed out of the blog, which is frustrating. Proper writers have notepads and such to jot prompts down. I go back to sleep.

The whole cancer thing - which is largely the point of me doing this particular blog - has been a right royal pain from the start. If you've looked at the other pages, you'll get my drift.

How am I doing at the moment?

My body core-temperature has been out of whack ever since I had some hormone treatment with my last radiotherapy in 2018. That's why I have a fan onstage. It is NOT to theatrically blow my hair around and to make me look like a rock god of some description. It blows my hair in my face and really annoys me, but it's better than over-heating and falling over. I get very very tired and I don't have a way out of that. I can sleep forever and still feel tired. The latest recurrence - it has spread to a lymph node in the left of my groin - is worrying. I get some alarming twinges in my groin. Are they because of the cancer, or are they something else?

The Christie in Manchester will be doing 5 SABR radiotherapy sessions with me later on this month.

My weight is more than I would like it to be at present. I was 5' 10" and 12 stone when I was weighed at the hospital the other day. I eat when I feel like it and help myself to the contents of my beer fridge near my recording gear when I feel like it, though I show an amount of restraint these days.

Someone asked me last night how I am and I said I'd tell him later, but he left before I had a chance to talk. That happens at the jam night. I get caught up in the whole thing. I do spend most of the time sat alone, instead of in the main group, as I don't have the immune system that I would like to have and so i still have to isolate to a degree. That's a hangover from covid19. I'm prone to colds and chest infections and have too much trouble with my throat. I spoke to a couple who are regulars at the jam night once and they said that they had thought I was being aloof and stand-offish. That's not really the case. When both Lynda and I were vulnerable, I religiously kept my yards.

I'm also currently on the back end of a nasty chest infection that has been wrecking my throat. The last couple of weeks have been pretty hairy at times, because of that and I have wondered if i'd actually get through the gigs. One night, the other week, we were in Wardle near Rochdale and I felt almost faint and was forgetting words to songs. I wanted the earth to open and swallow me up. I got through it though. I wonder how often the punters ever notice, unless I make a total hash of something? The work ethic we have between us in the group is that the show must go on, unless we are absolutely dropping. In which case, the show still goes on sometimes and we tough it out. I will only ever cancel gigs if my voice gives up completely and then all bets are off.

It's 1.50pm on a Bank Holiday Monday. It's overcast and not too cold. Typically crappy Lancashire Bank Holiday weather. Tom's on our bed, barking at something. Bum in the air, head down, tail going round like a propeller. Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof. Shut up.

I had some toast and then Lynda and I took the dogs to the nearby park for a walk. That woke me up a bit, but I still feel pretty drowsy at the moment. I'm going to give myself a day off from book work today. Although, saying that, I have just sat down for half an hour and done my tax spreadsheet for book sales for the last month - as I do religiously this time at the beginning every month - and I have also worked out how much will be going to www.kidneyresearch.uk.org from sales of the Slade Newsletter books from February. It works out at £113.68. The royalties are paid to me two months in arrears and so I can only use the royalties estimator on the Amazon site today to get the current exchange rates close, etc. I have tallied up the book sales figures for March and April, but those royalty figures won't be due for two months.

We put season 10 of Below Deck on TV. It's hidden away on Hulu or somewhere daft like that, accessible through the Amazon video app on Sky. Watching it while our trial is still in place. At about 6.15pm, while Mary was eating her food, shut alone in our front room, without the dogs around, I steeled myself to unload the car and put the PA and my bass gear away. Oh what fun. This is the bit I feel like I am paid for. Not the actual playing.

We spent the evening in front of the TV, watching quite a lot of season 10 of Below Deck and got to the end. I was so impressed with Hayley. She managed to avoid getting caught up in all of the foolishness and bad feeling that went on. And she is a bit of a Godess. Brits often distinguish themselves best in that show.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 2nd:

I woke up early, but was really tired out and so I stayed in bed until almost 11am. Once I was up, I got a coffee and started doing some book work. I have two things immediately on the go now, book-wise and it's a toss-up which I decide to go to on the day itself - as there is a LOT of Photoshop work involved, as one is a picture book.

Lynda came up with an absolutely delicious plate of wraps and shortly afterwards, I got a migraine. I don't know if it was the cheese, the screen, or the lack of sleep or all of the above, but 4 Zapains and a lie down and I was up and about again, though I felt a bit muzzy for doing screen work. I had added quite a number of images to the forthcoming 'SLADE ON 45' book and had roughed out a cover image. I'm fairly pleased with it.

There's been a fairly nice reaction to the announcement of the new book. I expect that someone I won't name will kick off, as they usually do everytime a new Slade book or product comes out, saying what a ripoff it is and bleating pathetically that everything has just been lifted from the Discogs website. They contribute NOTHING AT ALL to the Slade World, while I have some big-time collectors contributing scans of their amazing collections. Discogs is good for verifying the origins of some variations, but I'm not sure if I have ever taken half a dozen images from there - I am currently over-faced with images to put in the book.

We took the dogs out on the park and Oscar had the best time playing with an over-enthusiastic and playful little girl puppy called Luna. Tom always stays on his lead when we are outdoors, as we don't trust him not to run if he sees another dog. I normally handle Tom is he is 'the unruly dog' and we consider Oscar to be 'ruly' as he is quite well-behaved. His hearing was a bit selective, when we tried to call him back today though.

I did some more book work and had a video chat with my writing partner Chris about a few business matters.

After our evening meal, we settled down and watched some TV. Gogglebox and one of the last episodes of married at First Sight Australia. Gogglebox nearly had some spoilers in it. Blue Line is about the Police force in Northern Ireland and graphically illustrates how terrible a time it was there and how being a Poilce officer marked you down for execution and would have had you living in fear. Imagine checking under your car for bombs every morning. Unthinkable.

Lynda went to bed at about 10.30pm and I went off to do some more book work, while I'm in the mood. I've been sent a lot of images, like i said above and every one of them has to be manipulated to make it suitable for the book. Cleaning scribbles off rare labels and sleeves, fixing damage, cropping to just labels and sleeve detail.

Current listening:
'The Train Kept A-Rollin' by The 'N Betweens. Currently #6 on The Heritage Chart.
Vote for it here.

It's 1.15am and I should really think of going to bed. I have a few things to do tomorrow.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 3rd:
I finally got to bed at going on for 3am. I kept finding things to do, which I know for sure that I will forget if I don't do them right then - which probably means they don't matter anyway. My sleep cycles are right out of whack at the moment. My alarm went off at 9.30am and I kept snoozing it and had a few dozes. I got up before 11am. My lunch meeting today is off, so I'm getting a few things done.

I volunteered my services to take my friend's wife to the hospital in Oldham tomorrow. He's been away from home since he had a pretty catastrophic stroke on his brain stem last July. It's cost him use of his right hand side and his swallow reflex, which has meant a tracheostomy, that has silenced him speechwise. I was going to see him most Thursdays when he was in Salford Royal hospital, but I haven't been for over a month. I understandably got bumped one week when there was a planning meeting for his future care. The next week, he was moving to a care home in Bury. Then the staff there got covid, which cut two weeks out, then I got a chest infection, which cost two visits. Now I can't go tomorrow as he's in isolation with an infection.

It was brought to my attention that a certain person is already slagging off the 'Slade On 45' book. Anything positive that anyone does gets routinely attacked by him. I've actually seen a spike in sales when he has a go at THE NOIZE, so he just makes me laugh out loud and helps to line my pocket. The Police are involved in his dealings with certain Slade fans. I'm not saying anything more, except he's probably sacked as our unofficial Press Officer!

I went to the supermarket, as we were getting perilously low on cat food and we can't have eight pairs of eyes suddenly looking accusingly at us, so off I trundled. On my way there, I saw that the demolition of the local Century Mill - to make way for a lot of new houses - is now well underway. I had hoped to get te relevant permission to enter photograph the inside of the mill before they got into it, but it's past the point now where it would be safe to go anywhere near it. Oh well, he who hesitates is lost. But there appeared to be no way to find out who I could gain access from.

I did consider stopping into my local Sam Smiths pub, The Bridgewater, for a pint of their lovely bitter, on the way back from Tesco, but they have a strict 'no use of mobile phones' policy and I had forgotten to bring a book with me and though I looked, I didn't fancy any of the newspapers today. I resolved to have one at home instead.

I got home and did a solid few hours work on the 'Slade On 45' book. The project has been hanging in the air for so long and I haven't felt able to do the work like I should have. The band and the attendant admin take up my time, three evenings a week and various other times too. I have other book work which also competes for my time. And, after a fairly good session today, in which I realised that the book is going to take two volumes and so I put a couple of book cover designs together, I suddenly realised a fact that has for all these years totally eluded me....

MY MIGRAINES CAN COUNT TO FOUR.

Yes, they really can. I was quite enjoying myself doing some nice draft artwork designs, and all of a sudden, I started to get a little shimmering ring of fire in the centre of my vision. That means a migraine is coming on. The best way to deal with it is to get in a dark room and take 4 Zapains, shut my eyes properly and wait for it to be gone. I took 3 Zapains and it was not subsiding very much at all, more like it was getting worse, so after about 10 minutes, I took another one - no water, just swallowed it and stayed put. A while later, the migraine effects had subsided, but when I got up and went downstairs, I still felt rather muzzy, like my thoughts were coming to me through a thick soupy fog.

I am pleased with the two designs, though... In a couple of months, both books should hopefully be on sale.

Lynda and I had our evening meal and watched some TV. It's 10.30pm now. Lynda's in bed and I'm going to try to be in bed before midnight tonight. Famous last words....

A big tiring weekend of local gigging coming up. I hope I get through it.

Current listening: Ian Hunter - Defiance Part One - Sun Records.
Current reading: Brett Anderson - Coal Black Mornings.

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here. All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 4th:
I got to bed at 1am and was woken up a bit after 8am by Edward loudly fighting his way into the bottom drawer of my bedside cabinet. That cat is going insane and he's taking me with him. I checked my phone, so that I didn't just go back to sleep and got up and started shambling around the house. I missed a video call from Mark, who must think I get out of bed at an ungodly hour. I have tried calling him back, but he's not answering. Perhaps he's gone to bed. We will catch each other at some point during the day, no doubt.

I've dealt with the latest royalty payments from the Slade Fan Club Newletter books this morning - £113.68 more has now been sent to www.kidneyresearchuk.org. My good deed for the day. More info on the book donations are on my Slade site here. I've updated various pages to let them know about this. The royalty payments are made by Amazon to authors 2 months in arrears, so there will be 2 more donations made. The last one is only a couple of days worth of orders before the books went out of print, so I will probably just do the two months payments all in one go next month, to get it over and done with.

It's nice and sunny outside, so I might get a walk out later. I did manage to sit outside for a little while with a nice glass of stout. Makes a change from staying indoors all day and avoiding the sun, typing away at books. We've had our dog Tom for five years today, so he's going to have a special tea.

I had a good video chat for over an hour with Mark. We took the dogs for a walk on the park near our house again and afterwards, I walked to the chippy near to us for our lunch. Curry and chips each. Nice.

While I'm out, I get a photo or two of the mill that is slowly being demolished. I don't like seeing history wiped away and forgotten, though the disused mill is really scruffy and has served its purpose and it's maybe time to move on and replace it with houses full of screaming kids, which the chippy must be looking forward to, as it is across the road from where they're going to be. 

I have a nice long over-hot bath and a read while I am in there - Brett is talking candidly about his breakup with Justine Frischmann. I've never been able to talk about my own break-ups. I've only had a couple, really. That's how it goes, I guess...

I got out of the bath and had a lie down and slept for an hour or so. Mary woke me up by sitting on my chest, pawing gently at my neck and meowing concernedly and licking my nose. She is very cute in her dismal little tabby way.

I know this is meant to be a radiothrapy blog and that the radiotherapy hasn't actually started yet. I am waiting for that to happen with baited breath and a minor amount of anxiety. I must be more slightly confident of eventual survival than i was a short while ago, as I have ordered the next Ultarvox 6CD and 2 DVD box set for QUARTET, which is due out in July. It's been delayed for a while and I can't wait to see it. The Vienna and Rage In Eden boxes were just superb.

My order from the official Ultravox store ended up being cancelled as it was £13 different to the cost on Amazon. Let's be real.

I had a brief messenger chat with my business partner about the CD single we are about to anounce the release of next week. It is mainly going to be available as a small batch through one particular channel and it looks like the demand will exceed the supply. I am not at all keen on getting a second batch done. I want to be in and out and for it to be done with. I don't want to be left with a number of expensive coasters. There is very little money in it for us, as we are pricing it realistically and sensibly, just to get it out there. As with the books we have done, I just want a copy for my collection. I don't really want to make lots of money from it. Any small profit will go toward another project, if we do one, anyway.

We did our evening thing of watching some TV and Vicky McClure once again is excellent in WITHOUT SIN, though she is hampered slightly by a rather out-of-the-ordinary hairpiece. There's a re-working of FATAL ATTRACTION which is very good indeed. The mad 'other woman' in it is VERY MAD. Very mad indeed.  There's also a drama about a Policewoman who ends up in Belfast, caring for her grandchildren after her dauighter dies of a drug overdose. I forget the name of that one. We are onto the last two episodes of MARRIED AT FIRST SIGHT AUSTRALIA.

SPOILER ALERT:
I'm going to say what happens at the end now.

MR AND MRS MAD
It was no surprise AT ALL when Bronte told Harrison that they were through at the final dinner party, though I thought she would have saved it for the final vows to tell him exactly what she thought of him and maybe pull a knife on him. He really is a manipulative pig. His smirking face needs a good slap. He is car crash TV personified.

MELINDA AND LAYTON
At the final vows, Melinda and Layton survived their utterly daft communication squabbles. During the last episode, he went off at a daft tangent because she admitted to being in love with him. Layton reminds me of someone I know, whose wires are not properly connected. As she says, she is a 9.5 out of 10 on a bad day. Layton just needs to let his feelings work, chill out and not be so needlessly argumentative. Outside of the experiment, away from the cameras, they will find their own level and be fine.

ALYSSA AND DUNCAN
They were, of course, visibly totally doomed from halfway through the series. She is a hyper-sensitive American Mormon who was the other woman to a married man at one time, but who also hypocritically called out another person in the experiment endlessly and viciously for the mere blip of kissing someone on a night out (when some people who live in such glass houses would be mindful of throwing such rocks), and then she also acted as an alibi for someone else being where they shouldn't, on nights out. Moral? Nope.

While she should, rightly and correctly, be concerned about the practicalities and realities of bringing a new husband into her child's life, her astonishing declaration a couple of weeks back that she would only be able to see her husband on alternate weekends and the occasional weekday night after the experiment would have seen me telling her 'time's up, luv'. She pulled the unbeatable 'I Am A Mother' trump card and aggressively belittled Duncan at every opportunity for not being able to understand that her child was her first priority and then she kept him at arm's length with her appalling moodswings and nonsensical tanturms. She was painful to watch. A grown man actually cried in that apartment. At one point on the home stay, she got a couple of her Smug Mother's Group friends in to sit facing him, with stony but smug expressions and to gang up on him and side with her, saying how useless he was and how he didn't understand motherhood. Painful to watch again, and tantamount to bullying.

Every mother's child is quite naturally and obviously her first priority. Every man with half a working brain knows that. He went into the experiment looking for his soulmate and when his potential soulmate came with a child, he was totally willing to do his best to adapt and fit in, because it would be a fairly simple case of them adapting and managing as a family, but she couldn't see or allow that until it was far too late. She just put up opposition and barriers. She asked him how he felt about her at various times and, if he actually managed to get a few words out of his mouth, she interrupted him before he could get a full sentence out, then took everything he said as vicious and bitter criticism and went to lie down for a couple of days.

He was very mild and polite about it all. I would have told her she needs to be fitted with a flashing red warning light to keep men away from her. I'm really surpised that they got past the first few weeks. She, quite surprisingly, gushed her undying love for him at the final vows ceremony, as she had realised that she is doomed to never ever do any better than him. He is sort of a perfect bloke. She is anything but. Sadly, she is a bit messed up.

Then she had to stand there facing him, while he basically said that he was now so battered by the whole experience that he couldn't see any possible future for them at all.... and how he managed to stop himself from saying how really badly he had been treated, is beyond me. She wandered off and sat down and had a really good sob, several yards away. Being a complete and utter gentleman, he hung around and looked embarrassed and hopped from one foot to the other anxiously, looking as if he very badly needed a wee, until common sense told him it was time to leg it quickly, and so he did. And he lived happily ever after.

I got to bed very late and had trouble getting to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 5th:
Up at 10.30am - awake earlier. An overcast, but reasonable-looking day, weather-wise. A bit of me wants to get Tom out there on a long walk. He adores his long walks. I'd end up wondering why I was doing it part of the way around the circuit, at the moment.

Eleven days until my treatment starts. I am not looking forward to being burnt for 90 seconds, five times in an exact spot. I get the feeling it is going to be quite iuncomfortable - even painful - and that the side effects are going to be difficult. Of course, the side effects of doing noithing are that the cancer will kill me, so I have no choice to get on with it. Every now and again I pick up the timetable of the treatments and have a look.

16.5 at 3.40pm
18.5 at 4.40pm
22.5 at 2.30pm
24.5 at 1.30pm
26.5 at 12.10pm

All quite do-able, though the traffic on the return journey from the Christie at Withington might be a bit of a pig for the appointments later on, as soon as I hit the Trafford Centre area on the M60. I've had a couple of kind offers of lifts to and from the Christie hospital, which is very nice. Last time I had radiotherapy, I was quite able to drive myself to and from The Christie at Salford for the duration of the 20 treatments, but this course of treatments seems to be very aggressive and  I might need the help. We will see. I will make a judgement after the first one. Salford are not geared up to do this kind of precise treatment. I find that very reassuring, though my consultant didn't really radiate confidence (pardon the pun) when we talked about the process.

The main worry that I put on the form that they probably don't look at very much (the one about my overall concerns) was that the treatment wouldn't be effective. I'm in their hands and they know what they are doing..... though they did a lot of damage to my mate Dave, during his radiotherapy, as his spinal tumour was not reacting the way they expected, so instead of prolonging the number of sessions, they simply increased the dosage and did damage around the tumour, which has had catastrophic results. This is not just Dave's opinion, the surgeons who dealt with him have actually written 'radiotherapy damage' on reports and have discussed it with him.

Not long to go.

I blogged this until nearly noon. Now, what to do with my day?

I spent most of the afternoon trying to fix a problem that exists where my media player software (MediaMonkey) has stopped talking to my Kindle Fire, which I use with the band onstage. Not to much avail. What is on it will stay on it. I'm trying to figure out how to get something to fulfill that function and am quite worried that I may have to resort to Itunes, which is pants and dig out the Ipod Touch.

This almost made me late for the jam night. We started at 7.30pm, with very few in. But they are our good mates, so hey, we're ok. Doing a jam night on a Friday when most musicians are out working is not what I would have thought of doing, but we are obliging. We had a good enough night, despite the sparse attendance. I think I did my throat a bit of harm when we did Feels Like The First Time, which is in a killer key (high G) on the chorus.

Home pleasantly early for a Friday. Lynda was already in bed. I had a can or two of beer and did this blog update and pondered media players....

I got an email back late on this evening from a young lady who is organising the musical entertainment for Bolton Wanderers. Sadly the dates we have been given either clash with travelling to gigs, or with my radiotherapy. I have asked for us to be considered for next season.

An agent is trying to get us a New Year's Eve gig sorted.

I'm doing battle (that is entirely the wrong term for it, I know) with the new Ian Hunter album, Defiance Part One. I am playing it a lot and trying to love it. He has collaborated with a lot of guests and let them do a lot of work on the tracks. I miss the cohesive sound and feel of The Rant Band. It sounds in a lot of places like Ian singing on some other people's albums. It's entirely up to him what he puts out, but I feel that it's a bit late in his career for him to make what I consider to be such a massive concession to other people.  Some of the sings are sticking and some are most certainly not. I will persevere, because I absolutely love the guy and want his next few albums to be the highlights of his career, regardless of which stellar names are on them.. After everything I have said, it's still better than a lot of things that I have heard these last few years. It wasn't what I was expecting and so it just takes a bit of getting used to.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 6th:
An historic day, which I missed the first part of, as I have disabled my alarm at weekends and so I slept in until going on for 11am. I saw a little bit of the Coronation happening on TV. Did I pledge allegiance to the new King? Not telling. They do a lot for tourism and other countries have respect for the Monarchy. I think we would lose something if we didn't have them in place and Charles has trimmed 'The Firm' down quite a bit. He got the job because he lost his Mother, which doesn't probably inspire him to look anything but miserable on the day, which he does. He's looking old now.... and he is old. 74. Imagine starting a new job at that age? No, thanks. His son must have been sat there, thinking 'I'll have to do this one day' with an amount of dread in his heart. I was disappointed to see that toad Boris Johnson sat within plain sight of the event. I now that former Prime Ministers have to be invited, but does that apply to ones who are forcibly removed? He was the one person in the whole bunch that he was sat with who didn't bow his head or anything as the new King walked past him. I suspected, looking at the TV, that none of the people in the Abbey would be able to get a toilet break, as movement would be absolutely verboten and would probably get the Security Services coming into the open and pointing their machine guns. Probably why most of them looked so uncomfortable. Either that or the seats.

I had another chat with my writing partner about the forthcoming CD. I've been getting a couple of advert images together and we are hoping to announce it officially on the 15th May. I'm reasonably excited about the project and a possible follow-up that is very much up in the air and which remains a remote possibility at present. There is a chance of a very small custom run of vinyl 45's to go with this CD, but that still remains to be seen.

We sat down and watched the final episode of Married at First Sight Australia. The results for the final couples were pretty much as I predicted, though one couple could have gone either way...

LINDALL and CAMERON
After a promising start, these two were doomed from the very point where the totally Unreconstructed Ozzy Bloke (note that bloody haircut) told her that he would be going back to his job on the other side of Australia from her, where he disappears to work remotely in the outback for prolonged periods. She started to feel that, as well as being unresponsive romantically and emotionally, he would be pretty much unavailable to her at the end of the experiment. At their final vows, she went first, and basically said how he had wasted her time and she didn't let him respond with what he had prepared on peper. He was outraged by this and stomped off, with his statement discarded angrily on the floor. She went off and posed theatrically for the TV cameras, stretching in the sunshine, while we saw his back retreating into the distance and viewres could tell that he was absolutely fuming.

OLLIE and TAHNEE
The obvious 'golden couple' of the experiment  They went into it straight away, from their very first meeting, with the right constructive attitude. There was never any real controversy, just two people who really wanted to meet the right person. The 'Experts' who match the couples have got it so very wrong so many times, but these two (despite Ollie's murmourings to the cameras that long distance was no good to him) sailed off together, still happy and contented.

EVELYN and RUPERT
A name like Rupert has to be a severe disadvantage. That, coupled with his obvious awkwardness (this was his first real relationship) at being coupled with a model who believes she is stunning, and he was not going to argue with her, which comically rendered him almost incoherently speechless at their 'wedding', saw him struggle for a short while to relax and be able to talk to his bride. They seemed to be getting on fairly well, but she started to complain she had to ask him to take her out on dates, etc and that he didn't really think about it. He sort of bumbled along in her wake willingly, but was not driving anything. Late on in the process they consumated their relationship, which must always please the producers, who must wish they could get it on camera. When what is known as the honesty box turned up at one of the group dinner parties, Rupert was put on the spot and said he didn't know if Evelyn was sexually attracted to him. Bearing in mind their recent activity, Rupert's comment outraged Evelyn and their relationship sank. She too didn't want to hear what he had to say at theri final vows and left him stood awkwardly as she flounced off enigmatically, fuming away, into the distance. She didn't ever look really happy. He always just looked confused.

There is one further episode where all of the couples come to one last dinner party, which was filmed three months after the end of the experiment, where we will see who is still together and who isn't and no doubt the whole thing will turn into some sort of bunfight and the winner will be the last one left alive and standing, or someone who leaves before blood is shed. There will, of course, be tears..

This last week has seen me equip myself with a beard. Bloody horrible stuff. I will probably get the lawnmower onto it soon enough.

The evening saw us playing at the Comfortable Gill pub in Glazebury. It's a lovely pub, run by two excellent landlords. We've played there a number of times now an we always go down very well. The crowd really liked us this time, especially the second set. A couple of the ladies there were absolutely exceptional. We have been rebooked for AUGUST 26TH and NOVEMBER 4TH. Cannae wait, laddies and lassies...

On my way to the gig, a friend of Lynda's rang me, talking about dropping a foster cat off with us This was discussed with me first, and I did have a little bit of a say in it. Rodney is quite elderly, from the photos that I have seen and hasn't been at all well and it is fairly obvious that we are going to end up keeping him. When I got home, I had a quick look around, but I couldn't find him anywhere. Lynda told me that he was locked in the top floor bedroom, so I will see him in the morning.

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here. All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 7th:
Well, we DO have a elderly foster cat called Rodney living with us. He came to our house last night while I was out, and I missed meeting the apparently entrancing Cat, who brought him to us. He's living in the top floor bedroom and is not overly happy to see any of us as present. He's been a street cat and, while he is acquainted with a litter tray, he's mucky and  a wee bit pongy at present. No doubt he will settle down and take us on a bit more. Can't wait.

I got up at about 10am after a truly horribly disturbed night's sleep. I came downstairs at about 3am, as there was no way I was going to get to sleep in bed. I had got dressed again and come downstairs and settled down on the sofa in the front room. Bella kept me company and kept me awake. Not a good night's kip.

After a nice warm bath where I finished off the first Brett Anderson book, I gathered the band gear together that I would actually need for today's two 'smash and grab' appearances (as I have dubbed them).

An internet Slade dullard emailed me, complaining that I have mentioned him on the forum, because he has been taking pot shots at myself and two other people. He's determined to be the most argumentative shit on the internet and I am still not sure why he comes back to me.

I forgot the wrap that Lynda made for me when I left the house. That would have staved off the hunger while I was out. I did eat it when I got home. My daughter and immediate family have been round parts of Scotland and had a nice time. I have loveed to see the photos. So very very touched to see they did Greyfriars churchyard in Edinburgh and saw the memorial to Greyfriars Bobby - something I shared with Rachel when she was very young. I got her a book about him and was so very plaesed to see a photo of the statue again.

We turned up early for The Half Moon festival appearance and did a mixed rock set, at Graham's suggestion. Some things that we don't usually do. Good fun. A decent turnout. Tilwalds was heaving when we nipped in inbetween our slots, as there was an Oasis tribute on, The people of Tyldesley are easily pleased and they know what they like. We only managed to get set up a bit late at the Union Arms, as the dup before us over-ran a bit. They didn't know we had arrived. Now, bearing in mind my shirt and Graham's, it was just a wee bit obvious. Hey-ho... It should have been us form 6 - 7, but the drum kit provided was falling apart and the PA system was an issue. We started 15 minutes late, did a mainly glam spot and did an hour, finishing with our two big Cheap Trick numbers (I want you to want me and Surrender), as requested by The Boys In The Corner. I love those guys, always such solid support and great mates. Always really lovely to see them. There was a bit of scrappy playing in both sets that day, but again, we went down a storm. Great to see someone in the crowd who knew all of the words to Surrender. Well done that man, whoever you are. Sorry we didn't do Freebird, but I do have a limit. Special shout out to The Girls In The Corner. I love them too. All their chaps have face fluff. They love my face fluff and momentarily molested it. Possibly not enough cause to make me keep it, though.

Home. Lynda went to bed early and I ate the wrap and 3 bags of crisps and several cans of beer. I popped in to see Rodney and give him some chews.

I watched a documentary on The Jam on YouTube and once again cursed Paul Weller for dissolving what was possibly the greatest UK band since The Beatles, when he should have just have done a solitary mediocre solo album instead of a set of them with The Style Council. God, they were comparatively terrible.

Looking at going to bed shortly. It's 01.12 and the Police helicopter is flying over the area.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 8th:
As days go, this one is being terrible. Lynda saw a photo of her granddaughter on Facebook this morning. As her daughter chooses not to speak to us, we have never met the granddaughter and are completely deprived of any contact with the grandson. The photo broke Lynda's heart.

I had a phone call from a friend this morning and that is causing all sorts of complications. All sorts. I was going to watch a Rod Stewart tribute act that I know as he was playing locally, but I just didn't feel up to going out.

More emails to deal with. You can't negotiate with a terrorist.

The CD release that I have been working on has been officially announced today. It is an official release, featuring Jim Lea dn Don Powell of Slade, plus John Howells and Mick Marson, original members of the band that Jim Lea auditioned for in 1965, which later evolved into Slade. We should be able to ship copies next week.

After this, the day's been a bit of a blur of miserable nothingness, really. I did a quick pop to the supermarket to get some cat food. I popped in to site with Rodney in the top bedroom. He doesn't seem overly happy to see me. The food or whatever, yes. Me, not so much.

My computer is playing silly buggers, so I have finally done the deed and ordered something newer from Amazon. I am frantically backing stuff up that is in my documents to external drives.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 11th:
A busy couple of days, during most which I have been a bit stressed out. My computer played silly buggers more and more until my file manager wasn't really working at all. I downloaded the Opus file browswer, which did the trick and I think I got all the stuff I needed to save backed up.

I can't go to see Dave in hospital on Thursday as he has three infections going on and is in isolation at present. It's ages since I have been able to see him and I bet he thinks I have deserted him. Not the case.

I mer Mike on Tuesday and he listened to my woes patiently. He might come along to our gig on Friday evening.

We watched the final two peisodes of the recent season of Married At First Sight Australia and it was predicatable recriminations all round at the dinner paty and then on the couch, facing the experts.. They didn't show some of the couples chats on the couch,

Email: The CD singles land with Chris on Thursday. There is a plan to collect hopefully some on Sunday, while we get some of them signed.

I had ordered a PC from Amazon. When it arrived, it had no HDMI slots, so my monitor wouldn't work with it, so it was sent back withink 2 hours of it landing and I bought a new Dell Inspiron 3910.

That arrived today and iIt has no mic inputs (just a speaker output) so I am hoping an external USB dongle-type sound card will do the trick. It had Office 365 installed and I look on the net for what to do. I had to delete that and then download a tool to fully get rid of the 64 bt version, so I could install my genuine Microsoft Office 2013. I have email again and spent an amount of time this evening sorting out my spam filters. I get a lot of junk mail and fortunately, it's quite simple to stop it by putting a just a few easy rules in place regarding my actual email addresses and keywords. Immediately that I put the rules in place about only specific email addresses being allowed it stopped a torrent of utter rubbish.

Reloading my large digital music collection could have been a whole lot worse, too. It was all backed up and tagged ready to be indexed again in Moedia Monkey.

I also reinstalled My Adobe CS3 for Dreamweaver and Photoshop. I am determined not to fill up the computer with garbage, so the number of programs installed will now be just those I actually use. It's running on Windows 11, which I've seen for the first time today. That takes a bit of getting used to, but I'm getting there. The base unit is smaller, so I have got some desk space back.

I had fun setting up Dreamweaver to talk to my webspace properly, but got there in the end, as I had the settings I needed in use on the laptop.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 12th:
I didn't get to bed until well after 2am. Watching a new computer go through all of its inevitable updates just fills me with anxiety. All appeared to go well, though.

Marvin has been snuffling very noisily and looks quite ill. We rang the vets early on and I had him there shortly after 9am. I was shattered an not far of incoherent. I did not want to drive, but Lynda is struggling with her blood pressure at present and gets very breathless very quickly. Marvin came away with broad spectrum antibiotics, Metacam and I came away with a bill. I was coming out at 9.30am and my phone alarm went off. I had to laugh. Marvin is going to be under house arrest in the catio, or in the cat playpen in the front room, until the infection clears up. He is too weak to go gallivanting.

I teased a photo of the single label on Instagram.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The Noize (@noize_slade_discography)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 13th:
Yesterday morning a very dazed Ian took Marvin to the vets as his breathing was terrible. Of course, because he was stressed, his breathing was very shallow, so he wasn't snuffling like he has been doing. Broad-spectrum antibiotics, metacam and a bill. I brought him back home and he was under house / catio arrest until he kicked up so much of a fuss that Lynda finally gave in and let him go out. It's nice and sunny so he's probably as well out there as anywhere.

Last night we played in Todmorden. A PA system is in situ, so I could take two mates along with me - Mike and Steve. We played well. Just the odd mistake, but a very focused performance on the whole.

Mike said the place was 'full of swingers'. I didn't spot that, but what do I know? A good gig and I gave Steve a lift back to Whitefield afterwards and then Mike to the west of Bolton, Bed at 2.30am.

Up at about 10 this morning. Our foster cat Rodney is quite unhappy. Trapped in a top bedroom with occasional visits from us. He is miserable and Something needs to be done. We are gigging tonight and then I have to be up VERY VERY EARLY tomorrow, as I am going to Wolverhampton, something to do with the CD release.

The evening's gig was at The White Horse in Heath Charnock. It's in the process of changing hands. The manager there doesn't have access to their Facebook page, so couldn't advertise us. I was relieved when I got there early (like I do) and Graham was already inside setting up. The last thing I needed at the moment was a spur-of-the-moment cancellation. Another focused performance. Our next booking is ok and a bike club offered to book us to play there between Christmas and New Year. I wanted the time off, to be honest, but he was so nice about it that I buckled.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 14th:
I woke up at 7.10am and decided to get up, as I had a heavingly packed car of heavy equipment to unload and a long road journey to make. I got up and thought hard about whether the trip was really that good of an idea. I could just go back to bed. I persevered and got dresssed and washed. I laboriously unloaded the car and once again had the same conversation about going back to bed with myself. I was knackered. Again, I persevered and set about it with a grim and very tired determination. I had the cold air blower on full blast, as it was lovely and sunny - so hot that the TomTom sat nav kept overheating and switching off - and I had Smooth radio on very loud. Radio 2 was rubbish and Radio 4 was trying to sell me God. Smooth played me Paul Young and I approved. I stopped at Sandbach services and got two of the worst cold pasties I have ever eaten from Greggs. Back on the road and headed to Walsall. I changed my mind about using the M6 toll road when I saw it was a whopping £8.40 to use it. I farntically adjusted my sat nav and went on the appropriate and free A roads. I landed at my destination in Aldridge with time to spare. My genial host Chris put the kettle on and we examined the discs for our release had a relaxing brew and a nice chat, before taking the scenic route past a mass of Slade-historic sites. It's a really lovely area. As Chris said, the Black Country has so much greenery and open space.

We landed in Wolverhampton town centre and parked up near our destination and meeting place a little bit early and it wasn't open yet - not 'til 11am. I went for a walk to the main Church in the hope of finding a toilet. I was over-tired and feeling a bit wonky. My stomach was therefore a bit off and I felt slightly sick (possibly the pasties). Once inside the Church, the helpers there looked annoyedly at me for the crime of walking in. I said I just wanted a look as I love Churches. They said I could come back after the service, which was starting in 15 minutes. Like I was really going to disturb anyone by looking at the architecture inside. I was made to feel as welcome as a fart in a phone box. I didn't have an upside down cross on or anything. I was wearing a suit jacket and shirt and looking quite tidy actually. But THEY OBVIOUSLY SENSED THAT I WAS A BAD PERSON AND NOT ONE OF THEM THERE CHRISTIANS..... I walked back towards our meeting place, no longer feeling any great urgency for the loo. The building opened up and after a couple of moments, all was well.

We were meeting the artists who appeared on our CD release to get some of the copies signed. I watched the delight on their faces when they saw the finished result. It was like when Chris passed a few to me at his house and my jaw had just dropped at the finished result. It looks great and I doubt anyone who gets one will be disappointed at all. We had a couple of hours of relaxed chat about a lot of things - I got a lot of questions answered and just a few of the items from my collection signed. I had become slightly reluctant to get them out, as quite a bit of autographing had been done already and I felt slightly guilty about it, but they were happily signed. I did say all the times I had stood and talked to him, years ago at afternoon sound-checks, when I certainly had lots of chances, I didn't bring stuff to be signed - so as not to be a pest and wear out the welcome that was regularly extended. It was a great shame when we had to get back in the car a couple of minutes before our paid parking expired. It was all very positive indeed. We had done some very good work and it was appreciated. A lot got done and I think everyone came away very happy. The two hours sat down just flew past. I did do a slight fanboy thing at the end of the meet. I explained that I had seen the group about 50 times and used to chat with them at soundchecks many many times. I didn't take things to be signed, so as not to be a pest. Then they stopped touring... They were signed very good-naturedly.

One of the people we were meeting has dealt with prostate cancer and I am pleased to say he's had a very positive result indeed. We compared notes and war stories, including what I have coming up this next couple of weeks.

We went back to Chris' house and on the way we saw the spectacle of a remote-controlled caravan, not attached to a car, being backed down a step slope onto a drive by remote control, while the traffic watched and waited foe the main road to clear. Robot Wars gone mad. That and the tin man near Brownhills were smashing to see,

After a short stop back at Chris' house, where I met his lovely wife and we had a nice chat, I was really obliged to set off back on my way to the M6, once again avoiding the toll road. Smooth radio found some more Paul Young and I was happy but very tired. I was bak 'ome at about 3.30pm and loaded the car up for the jam night. I took the dogs out on my local park and we had a nice half hour or so. I was able to set off for the jam night a bit later than usual as there was a function on at our jam night venue. I video-called Chris during the evening and he told me that the track that we have released on the CD single is at number three on the Heritage chart. Hoorah. That was the icing on the cake for the day.

The jam night was basically like all jam nights, but slightly different in that a lot of people from the function earlier on stayed for the duration and they were just great and had a great time. There was a little bit of stress about the vocal balance out front, which I did my best to sort from behind the speakers. Working this hard while being this tired isn't good for me. Other people besides me are capable of using the desk, instead of just complaining to me. I did do my best to sort the sound problem.

I've been examining my bass playing recently and am going less-flowery / more-functional. There is always some arsehole that will pick holes and moan. They are the ones that deserve cancer. Take it from me. Please.

Home at a reasonable time and I typed this blog up. In bed about 12.45am. I will sleep. Yes indeed I will.

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here. All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 15th:
We were awake before 6am, as Marvin And His Terribly Loud Breathing came upstairs and settled on my chest. He stayed put and I stroked him for a while. If he's comfortable and purring, that will do for me. Lynda nipped downstairs and put his meds in one of the cat yoghurt thing he loves, which he devoured, still on my chest, almost nose to nose with me. He wasn't for moving, and though I was bone-tired, I was not going to shift him, so I just thought, oh well, I will get some sleep later. After a short while, one of the dogs shifted on the bed and disturbed him, so he went to find a much sunnier spot on the window sill. I went back to sleep, batted away my alarm at 9.20am and had almost another hour..

Lynda asked me to take a photo of Rodney for Facebook. He's still 'the prisoner in the attic', doesn't like me and tolerates Lynda as she feeds him.

I did some quick Photoshop work, starting on another CD project that is in the offing. More about that one nearer to the time. I have a few project-type balls to juggle in the air at the moment. A couple of books that i should spend more time on.

My next two weeks look utterly daft. I had two weeks where we had a break as our guitarist was meant to be away. Then he said he wasn't. I advertised the band as available and what happened? Some cheeky sod venues ring us up and book us. Damn. Serves me right. Victims of our own success. I have been advised to rest up during my radiotherapy sessions but it's my own fault..

In between all the things listed, there will be shopping and many hours of book work, plus day-to-day-life type crap,.

The radiotherapy really bothers me, because last time, it was only 20 second bursts. This time it is 90 second bursts. The Christie really f**ked up my mate Dave, by overdoing his radiotherapy and turning the heat up because it wasn't getting the intended results. Now, I must say they know what they are doing, but I look at the damage done to Dave and I could cry. This is hopefully a rather different process and I have no choice but to trust them. I can look forward to a potential swollen leg, amongst ther side effects. Not looking forward to that.at all. Better than being dead though.

I'm currently thinking of every day as a bonus now.
I'm partly resigned to an early exit, but don't want one.
Dramatic, maybe. Maybe not.

I had a good read of Justin Currie's entertaining tour blog from a couple of months back. I wish could write descriptively like he does, but he does seem to have the luxury of being able to jot things down as they happen. I don't. I'm too busy doing things.... and then I posted a 'complaint' at https://justincurrie.com/ - let's see if he answers this one. I'm listening to Fatal Mistakes, the most recent del Amitri album, which was accompanied by a second separate disc of equally brilliant out-takes. They really are great and that's the kind of music I'd love to be playing now. Not that there's anything wrong with the clungey old rock music that we batter people with, week-in, week-out. People love those songs. I'd love the group to record an EP or an album, but that costs money for the studio and then to get the CD's pressed. I don't think there's the enthusiasm for that.

I go away from my desk and Edward pinches my chair and lies in a sun puddle.
I chug a few cans of Brewdog and my typing gets worse. It seems that of regularly becomes fo, etc.

I can't get used to a PC that takes 30 seconds to boot up and down. Windows 11, I love you. I don't care what they say.
I ordered another 8GB of RAM to add in, to stop a couple of things being clunky.

I managed to get a review sample of an 8 channel mixing desk that costs about £200 for nothing and that arrived today. It looks very good and so I put it in the place where my older Soundcraft desk had been.

Listening to a live Del Amitri show from Toronto and it's horrible. Didn't they have monitors??? Whoever shared the audio of that show should be locked up,. 6.45pm... It's lovely outside. I should be walking the dogs. Laters...

I took the dogs out and the guy down the road from me had his two white huskies with him. He was saying how he let them out for a pee at 2am and they chased a cat (fortunately not one of ours) and they disappeared for an hour or so. He was understandably frantic. At least they came back. I worry about the cat.

An evening of TV. I spent some time voting for the 'N Betweens track on the Heritage chart, while watching. It was at number three on Sunday and we want it to get to number one.

The CD single will sell out, as we have not got enough copies for the demand. Chris is putting all the names into his computer and it will randonly draw 150 names. He will message the lucky ones with instructions and he will be sending out the discs. All they have to do then is send the correct amount for the CD (and the postage to where they are) to Chris via Paypal (using the friends and family option). Of course some people don't use Paypal. Some people want two discs. Not fair if it deprives someone else of one. The good thing with this project is that we will actually recoup our costs. We're not out to make a fortune and we certainly are not out to lose one either...

We lost some money on the batch of freebies that quite naturally went to the group members, but hey, they gave us the track for free to use and we can't complain in the slightest about them wanting copies. There are a couple of discs reserved for competition prizes and Chris is going to auction at least one copy for a charity. Oh, and we have two each. Not unreasonable. That leaves only 6 spares, above the 150, which will also go to people in the draw.

I put the CD on Discogs (not for sale, just its details).

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 16th:
TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY OF RADIOTHERAPY
I suppose the blog really begins properly now. Up at about 9.30am. I still haven't unloaded the car from the weekend. It's quite safe enough, but it needs to be emptied as a supermarket 'wall of death' trolley dash is coming today. I did some of this blog and tidied up my email contacts as I imported them to the new PC. I am a number of people missing, but if they email me, I will have them back.

After we hit Tesco in Farnworth, I went for a bath at about 1pm, as Rachel was picking me up at 2.30pm to go to The Christie. I lay in the bath reading Brett Anderson's confessional account of the back end of his time with Suede, before they disintegrated. He admits that lot of the band's problems were due to lack of focus, a decision to go with another producer to make the next albums and, perhaps most of all, his substance abuse. I have seen cocaine demolish someone I cared about. It is God's way of telling you that you have too much money. I've never seen anyone actually flourish through drug use. I've smoked some grass when I was younger and it got me a bit mellow, but I have thankfully never gone near any harder stuff. I have seen people tripping off their faces on stuff, spiked with LSD and turned paranoid and into temporarily rambling idiots. No thanks. I don't like anything I can't switch off and be clear of in a moment or two. I can't smoke anything now. It would be a slap in the face to the people who are doing their best to rid me of cancer.

Rachel arrived and we had a little bit of time before we had to leave. I showed her the CD single and unfortunately, Rodney is not sociable enough for a visit yet. Lynda picked up a nasty bruise on her wrist, at an encounter yesterday.

We set off in Rachel's car and it was just so nice to get to spend some time with her. The traffic on the M61, the M60 and the M56 behaved well enough and we were there in plenty of time. Rachel didn't much like the look of Northenden, which has a slightly scruffy-looking main street, but we were soon passing genteel golf clubs and expensive houses.

The multi-storey hospital car park on Palatine Road still doesn't have any pay machines installed, so once again we got free parking, but the entry barriers are now working, so it probably won't be long until someone is rolling in it again. But hopefully I will be done with by then.

We visited the relevant Department where I was being treated and I checked in. Christies is divided into Deparments, and the entrances on the four main corridors are all numbered to make them easier to find. Some of the Radiotherapy area reception desks were not manned, so there was a bit of shuffling about from place to place to do the actual check in. They went through my appointment times and one next week was moved back ten minutes. We were early enough to go get a coffee. Having something else to do helped me keep a bit calmer. I really have been dreading this.

We took our coffees back to the Department and sat down. I posted about where I was on Facebook. At the exact time of my appointment, someone came out and advised that I should go just over there to the loo to empty my bladder. There's no point in having anything unrequired in the way and being uncomfortable when you have to stay as still as a corpse for a prolonged period.

I was collected a moment or two later and went nervously into Suite 3, leaving Rachel sat wih her laptop in the waiting area. She's being very positive about all of this and so am I. I think we are both worried and I can't say how much I appreciate her being here with me while this is done. I was supposed to be in Suite 1, but it was still busy and they could get me into this othe one quicker. I suspect I will see all three suites over this next two weeks.

I was faced with this beast:

Click on the images to see the full, horrifying detail.

Last time I had radiotherapy at The Christie in Salford, I was faced with a somewhat less techno version of this gadget. I dread to think what these machines cost, but I'm so damned glad they have them.

The room looks like a big store room. It isn't at all glamourous. The machine takes up most of it. Suites 1 and 2 seem to be more bright and airy. It's not that brightly lit.

Before they started on my treatment, they checked my name and address and date of birth. They gave me a brief but complete chat about the potential side effects of this treatment. As my cancer is in a lymph node, zapping that could cause a leg to swell. The surrounding areas to the actual node could be affected, so I may have a bowel problem afterwards. It is not that close to my bladder, thankfully, as I pee enough as it is. Too much info? Go and read a paper. This is education, kids. I was asked if I have any questions, or worries. I know the drill with radiotherapy. I told them that I am happy that they know what they are doing. They said to put my hand up if I was getting weirded out. They could see me on camera and would stop the process.

It's scary.
You don't feel a thing.
It can cause as much damage as it can cure.
I will be really tired for some time. No change there, then.
You have to keep still while they are doing it.
I have no choice. I've taken the deal.
It's better than the alternative.
Don't be so soft, Ian.

I lay on the bed section and dropped my trousers and underpants and lifted my shirt... and my 'interesting bits' were covered with paper. At one point in my life I would have been rather self-concious of this bit of the process, but now I care as little about dropping my pants as the hospital staff. If the piece of paper blows away, it's not like they haven't seen one of these before. I've been poked and prodded and tested everywhere down there.

They looked carefully at the recent small tattoos on my body, which are there to help with positioning and nudged me gently into the desired position. Just to the right in the lower photo above, there is a screen with all of my co-ordinates of how I was laid out last time I was scanned. They matched my position precisely. Yes, I was vaguely uncomfortable again. I lay with my arms across my chest and of course, I got an itchy nose and moved an arm to scratch it. My body stayed absolutely still. A thin green laser light went the length of my body, not quite touching it, but not missing my nose by much. It's un-nerving, no matter if I've done this before.

Then they scanned me again. It took a couple of minutes. The huge component parts whizzed around me and I watched in mute horror as one large and rather bulky part of it lined up with my face and I could see a slot which revealed a red light. Another component was a flat plate and I nearly laughed out loud when I saw a sticker on it, showing a man sat on a flat plate with a red circle and and line through it, advising you NOT to do that. Like you'd try to sit on a panel on a multi-million pound piece of equipment like this. Thinking about it, it has possibly happened somewhere at some time. I'll return to this on Thursday.

The machine stopped moving and a moment or two later, the bed I was lying on clicked and whirred slightly and moved almost imperceptibly into a slighty altered position. Then it all went quiet. I waited.

There was a lengthy pause and then the actual treatment started. The huge parts moved around me and rotated and whirred and blooped with a sound a little like the keyboards on a Kraftwerk album. Humm, brrrr, bloop, ping, beeeeeep. It won't sell. Don't bother recording it. Things moved slightly and pointed at my middle. 90 seconds of this, with me lying there, thinking of what damage was being done, rather than what good was being done.. Pointless. I looked at the dull ceiling and waited for it all to be over. Then it was.

One of the team came in and said brightly "You're done." I asked her if people ever had panic attacks over this treatment. She thought about it for a moment, as if she'd never heard this question before. She said that people who have to wear the protective plaster masks, which are moulded from scratch to their face, sometimes get upset. I mentioned my friend Dave had a massive panic attack when his mask was being made, but that he was a lot better when the treatment was being done, even though he still had to actually wear the thing. I don't need one, as the left of my pelvis is the affected area.

I also asked her about the re-scan they do. Can they see the actual cancer?
Not really, but the area to be treated is clearly visible. That will do for me.

I will do doubt think of further odd questions to toss their way. I got permission to take the two photos on the blog and made sure that she wasn't going to be in them.

I got dressed and walked back to Rachel, who was really surprised that I was back so soon. She thought it would have taken a lot longer. It was good to get away. We gathered ourselves and our belongings up and made our way out into the sunshine.

Once we hit the M60, it was rush hour carnage. The traffic moved, crawled and crawled again. I told Rachel I am quite Zen about queueing or waiting for anything in hospitals, or on motorways and about how long it takes to get to places. I make sure set off early enough and allow myself enough time to get where I am going, without working myself up about it. As long as I am not late to set up at a gig, or letting someone down by being late, then I really don't care.

We came off the M60 and took a detour through Urmston. I mentioned a New Year's eve gig I did there with my friend Kee and Barry on drums and Danielle singing, as we passed the club. I thought it was going to be chaos, but we did ok. We rejoined the M60, having dodged around the congestion, thanks to Google on Rachel's dashboard. Very techno. I still have a CD player in my car, not that I have ever put a CD on it. Another detour took us through Worsley and Walkden, as I knew Kearsley roundabout would be a total clusterf***. I didn't fancy queueing on Watergate Lane at the next exit either.

Rachel popped in to see Lynda, then nipped off home, in search of food. I went around the corner and retrieved Marvin from someone's garden, as I had seen him in one of his favourite spots as we drove past. His breathing still sounds a bit rough. He's at the vets in the morning.

I set some files copying from my old PC to a pen drive as they had failed to copy and I was a lot of photos missing. Some new RAM turned up for the new PC and I slotted it in, but I still have to get the other data backed up before I get round to restarting the new PC, as I only have the one monitor that attaches via a HDMI cable. First world problems.

An evening of TV. Lynda went to bed at 10.30pm and then went upstairs, I did some more backing up of data and I wrote this blog. It feels a bit attention-seeking as I check it, but what the hell. It is meant to raise awareness about the prostate cancer problem.

It's now 00.40 and I want to be in bed soon. Goodnight all.
Not that anyone is reading this...

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here. All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 17th:
We took Marvin for his follow-up appointment at the Vets at 9.45am. He's very congested and looks properly fed-up. The vet has kept him and they are going to put him under and check for obstructions etc, and take a proper look at what ails him. That's £700-800 down the tube, but we can't let Marvin soldier on uncomfortable.

I installed Nero 12 onto the new PC. I had a brief moment of panic when the installation asked for the serial number, but it was on the inside panel of the DVD case, hidden behind the booklet.

I had a video chat with Chris about the CD's. They are now being allocated to people. A lot of people are saying there should be a lot more discs, as they haven't got them. We were not confident to get more than 200 pressed up (of course the 200 discs is less the copies that went to the group) as we were not sure if people would actually buy them. We didn't want to get left with a load of copies. This has been an experiment to a degree. We are not going to get more copies made. We said 150 copies would be available and those who have bought the disc so far would have every right to be upset if their 'exclusive limited edition of 150' suddenly became 'a limited edition of 350'.

If we ever get to release anything else, we might possibly be confident to bump the production numbers up and maybe even sell them via an Ebay shop. That is some way off and I'm sure we will talk about it a lot.

Some think Ebay is evil, like Paypal and that will put them off. One guy on the forum said that he doesn't use Facebook or Paypal and I told him to ask someone to help him, or get someone to buy it for him. This evening, I spotted a post from him saying that he would buy it if he could get it through the forum. How do people buy anything or do anything if they don't trust the internet? The odd person who has been selected to buy a disc has backed out. That £9.95 is a lot of money. Well, if they don't want it, at least someone else does. They have until Friday to complete their transaction with Chris, otherwise, other names will come out of the hat and those people can have them. Chris has taken on a lot of admin work and is getting an amount of flak that is not required or even sensible.

The question has arisen of the possibility of some people putting their copies on Ebay for profit. We have no control at all over what anyone does with their CD once they get it. They can play it, melt it, use it as a frisbee, use it as a weapon, or re-sell it. It's not up to us. I think 99.9% will hang on to theirs with a grim determination.

Others have asked about a 7" single. We looked into getting some pressed up. They were prohibitively expensive and there would have been a long wait to get them pressed, and once again, we were not sure if people would buy them. Getting stuck with a load of those would be an absolute disaster.

We made a finite number of discs and they went to people effectively drawn out of a (computer) hat. Apologies if people's names didn't come up.

The Vet rang at 11.30am. No obvious signs of objects or tumours. His nose was flushed out and nothing untoward was seen. He's had a steroid injection and a stronger antibiotic. I can ring about collecting him later on and there will be another appointment next week to see how he is doing..

I drove into town for 1pm to meet Mike for lunch. I saw a text message saying he had gone early with our other mate Steve and they would meet us there. Our friend Caroline was there too, and it was - as always - very nice to see her. I had one pint, as Mike was heading back. I'd come over tired and had a couple of things to pick up, so I wasn't much good as company really. My short-term memory is really poor, so I rang Lynda for a reminder of what the things to pick up were and went to Sainsburys, where I'd parked, to get them. I got home and they were the wrong type of Ryvita's and two packets at that. I decided to go for a lie down, seeing as I was tired. Then the Vet rang, saying Marvin had been examined at great length and with much process. No great news, except that he's having two injections - one anti-inflammatory steroid, and an antibiotic. I went to pick him up (calling in at Asda on the way for the correct Ryvitas) and while collecting Marvin I got a Vet bill for £806.00. Ouch.

I got our very valuable cat home very carefully.

And then I took the opportunity to go and have that lie down that I so badly needed. I slept for an hour or so, then came down and helped lynda to finish off assembloing the huge cat cage that we are hoping to get Rodney into..

I also set about backing up a lot of photographs and videos saved from the old computer onto discs.- 2018 to date. I ordered some more DVDR's from Amazon. I want to back up all the band videos and photos to DVD storage. That will free up a lot of computer space.

We watched some TV and I kept popping upstairs to change the discs. I also spent a good old length of time clicking away on my phone, repeatedly voting for the 'N Betweens track on the Heritage Chart. Lynda went to be and I caught up on last Thursday's Question Time.

I remembered that I should really install Power DVD, so I dug that out and got on with it. It didn't like my old PC that much because of the graphics card. Hopefully the new one won't upset it... It won't download the patch file that gives it a few extra features - instead it now wants to to hire Power DVD 22. Nope.

I went to bed in the early hours. Marvin was hanging around outside at the front of the house, looking expensive, and he refused point blank to come in. Lynda will see him at breakfast time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 18th:
Up at around 10am. Out to the shop as the milk is rather out of date and I really should have thought of that when we were in Tesco the other day. I got a cheese pasty from the shop while I was there. Very nice.

Chris and I had another chat about the CD single. A bunch of people are complaining that they haven't got one. At the same time, a bunch of people who got through the draw to buy one haven't done anything about paying for theirs yet. We agreed that a deadline should be set to get the payments out of the way, so anyone who hasn't paid by that time will then lose their copies to other people. We don't want to be dealing with the admin on this for a long time. We want it over and done with. We are now adamant that there will definitely not be any re-press of this CD single. I'm now having some second thoughts of even doing a 300 run on any next project. We don't want to be stuck with a bunch of expensive coasters.

I played bass along to some music, to keep my fingers working - I chose some Nick Lowe and Elvis Costello stuff. My band would never touch this stuff because people don't know it. You have to be a bit of a jukebox when you go out with a band. Well, you do if you want to work, anyway.

A Facebook message came in, offering us an afternoon slot at an all-dayer in Leigh in July. I checked with the guys by message and text and we're ok for it. Just needs the details firming up and then it will be announced.

116 gigs booked in this year, not counting the couple that venues double-booked us on. I don't do diary that badly.

I went for a soak in the bath, taking the second Brett Anderson book with me. It ends with Suede recording their 'A New Morning' album, which they (well, certainly Brett) disowned to a degree later on. Neil Codling had left the group and they were a bit defeated and deflated by everything. They started with an American producer who they were'nt really compatible with, musically, and that work ended up being scrapped at some considerable expense and the tracks reworked for the nth time, until they were bored with them and simply tired of working on them. They removed some excellent typical Suede tracks and put other things on that they now have no feeling for. They had no choice but to release the work. I really like the album, but my perspective is totally different to theirs, as a listener. they wanted to challenge their audience's expectations, but were unsure what to do. Asking themselves 'What would Suede do? ' and then doing the opposite sounds like a stupid plan to me, but I am not in those shoes.

The book doesn't mention their later reconvening in any great detail at any point, as that is another tale. Thank God they have done so, with a new enthusiasm that was so missing from that time. I hope for another book from him. We will see.

Rachel came and picked me up and we whizzed off to The Christie. We were there in plenty of time.

I do get a very warm and reassured feeling every time that I enter the place. Our trip to the ward takes us past people on beds, in various states of repair from ok to really not ok. On Tuesday, it was a small child being wheeled asleep or sedated, from one place to another and Rachel and I both recoiled at the unfairness and sadness of it all. You get to my age and you expect that things might start going wrong, but children don't deserve cancer. Not in a right world.

Radiotherapy reception told me that I would be dealt with in Suite 11. I didn't know they had 11 suites. They have a LOT more. Now I know.

I lay down and the machine did its work. I lay back and waited for it to be over and / or to feel something.. All I felt was the slight breeze on my middle from a fan as it burned its target.

The staff there are just great. They asked if I had any questions beforehand. No question is too daft - believe me, I tried.... I mentioned conversationally afterwards that I thought the sticker on the square plate on the huge radiotherapy machine was amusing. Who would sit on the plate on a multi-million pound piece of equipment? She looked at me and said flatly, "Oh yes they do." She touched the rear side of the plate incredibly gently and it beeped, as it knew it had been microscopically interfered with. The plate and the large bulbous thing opposite it do the CT PET scan before the treatment. The perfect position of both is absolutely imperative, so they can communicate with 100% accuracy, so I can be placed in exactly the right uncomfortable posture to get zapped with high dose radiation. So DON'T even begin to be tempted to sit on one, folks. I didn't ask to take another photo, as the room looked pretty much identical to the other one and they were cleaning up and there was no way I was going to interrupt them.

We wre out quite quickly. The Department runs with an astonishing efficiency, unless, of course, a machine breaks down. They build in regular servicing, so that's rare. The machines get hammered. They look after them properly.

I took a photo of the pay station in the multi-storey car park for posterity.

The drive home was the usual rush hour traffic, but it could have been a lot worse. I'm so grateful to Rachel for taking me.

Three more sessions to go. I think I felt some effects from the radiation during the evening. We spent an amount of the evening watching TV. Swarm (I've missed a bunch of episodes of that, so I was almost drifting off while it was on), Corrie, Classic Corrie and Question Time (an episode dedicated to Scottish squabbling). Difficult to tell them all apart.

Doing the blog and listening to A New Morning by Suede before bed. I can maybe see why Brett Anderson wasn't pleased with it, but I'd have been more than pleased to make a record that was anything like it.

Heading for 2am. Time for bed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 19th:
Up around 10am. Not much to do today until I go out to gig later. I checked out the new mixing desk and caught up a lot of Amazon reviews.

Andy Rourke from the Smiths has passed away, aged only 59, from pancreatic cancer. That makes me feel rather mortal. I only grew to like The Smiths after seeing them on The Old Grey Whistle Test (that's an old BBCTV music show from when they used to do them, for those of you who don't know... I'll start rattling on about Top Of The Pops if you're not careful). I had disliked Morrissey's singing intensely until I reluctantly watched them perform Vicar In A Tutu and Bigmouth Strikes Again, while waiting for someone else to come on. All of a sudden, I got the Smiths joke..

They were / are a bit Marmite for some. You like them or you don't. I have revisited their songs and quite like most of them. Rourke's contribution can't be underestimated. His bass parts were flawless and in isolation almost sound illogical, playing against the guitars brilliantly, out of time, out of phase and all over the place, but right on the money for what the songs needed. God knows what he's been doing all of these years, but he was great in The Smiths. I saw him and Mike Joyce in Sinead O'Connor's band when she supported INXS at the Apollo in Manchester on their Kick tour. They played her bizarre stuff perfectly.

My bowel started playing up a little during the afternoon. That will be because of yesterday's radiotherapy. I really don't want IBS as a result of this treatment. No no no no no.

It started raining, so Oscar and Tom didn't get walked. I spent ages backing up videos to DVDR's, until I got bored with it and came downstairs and settled in front of the TV. That threw up a slight risk of me falling asleep.

After our evening meal, I set off for Horwich. I was there for 7.30pm as we had an 8.30pm stage time. I didn't have a wooly hat in the car, so I got a bit wet, as it was still peeing down. The venue is a large refurbished pub / hotel, which I have not been in since beffore the refurb. It looks really good now. It's gone from faded grandeur to funky modern space. The crowd were a bit subdued, though there were a couple of very animated people there. There was one Scottish bloke who kept talking to us. We needed an interpreter and there wasn't one around, so we just nodded and grinned in the right places. We went down well enough. Perhaps it's where the band is playing from. A good space, but not lots of visibility from the main seating. Some friends came along to watch us. I'm always pathetically grateful to see some people that I know at our gigs. We played ok and it was nice to see our friends. We were loaded out at 11.30pm and the M61 exit that I normally use was closed on the way back, so I had to go 'round the houses' a bit. I finished today's blog, which I will probably patch up when I can remember some extra things tomorrow. Tired out. Aiming to be in bed for 12.30am. A miracle,

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 20th:
Awake before 10am. I had a look at my phone. There was a Facebook post from our friend Sue about her husband Dave who has been in hospital since July following a stroke in his brain stem that has left his right side and his swallow reflex not working. He had a very very bad day on Thursday, after an operation to remove gallstones, and they called her to the hospital urgently as he was deteriorating. She went and fortunately, he rallied. He described feeling like he had died and had decided to come back. He really IS a man of steel. I don't know how he does it. I'm hoping to get to see him soon.

The weather outside is gorgeous today. Mary is avoiding it all by lying in an Amazon box. She doesn't go out. I think the very idea of 'outside' frightens her. She looks through windows wistfully a lot, but has only stepped a foot or two outside of our side door a couple of times and she has come back in very quickly.

The boys get a walk and as I head home I land up talking for a while to a local chap about our various mogs and dogs and we also compare ailments. I win. He mentions another guy that he knew from up the road, who died from something called 'prostate'. I say that's what I've got and wonder to myself if he was actually listening.

I do a bit of messaging and such and then settle down in the front bedroom with a book about Guns'N'Roses, who I have little or no interest in, but which I bet is a decent tale. My reading is soon distrubed by some idiot guy outside on the street making whooping noises at some attractive teenage girls on the nearby park. I wonder if he thinks that acting like he's sub-normal is going to get him anywhere at all? I look at the girls as they retreat. They are beautiful, yes, but the last time I was interested in girls of that age... well, I was that age myself. They are all muttering things into their phones from the look of it. Possibly one of them is ringing their Dad up to come and sort this loony out. He shuts up and, my peace disturbed once and for all, I sulk off and I run a bath. The bath is my happy place and I can spend hours there. It's ten past six and in just over an hour, I will be going out. I can smell cooking wafting upstairs and it smells good. I'm tired. I could do with a sleep. No chance.

We are still waiting for Lynda's cat rescue friend to come round to help us transfer the depressed Rodney from up top to down below. I am on the verge of texting her to ask what the hell is going on.

At about 7.20, I got in the car and set off for Bolton town centre. A very early arrival, but I am mindful of the fact that parking in Bolton is every man for himself and the survival of the fittest. This was proved after I had unloaded all of my gaer into the Man And Scythe and gone round the block and then onto the sloping road (Churchbank) at the North side of the Parish Church. I spotted a space (there were loads) and went past it and turned round at the bottom of the hill and came back up, so I would be facing the right way later on. Another car full of botoxed bloated bints was coming down the hill, so I indicated that I was going to pull into that space on the right. Oh, they didn't like that at all. Inked eyebrows were raised to look even more artificial and I saw several screaming, sunbed-burnt chubby faces shouting abuse at me through their car windows as they went past and parked up, 25 feet further down. It was a wonder the car could even move with all that weight in it.

The Man and Scythe is a very historic pub, dating back to the 13th century. Click here for more info about it.

With all of the gear piled in on the postage stamp-sized playing area to the rear of the pub, Graham was not sure we would even fit in the area, but with a little bit of juggling, we managed it. I had no room on the floor for my effects board (which ended up perched on top of my bass rig) and I had just a couple of feet to spare in any direction. No room to dance about while playing if I suddenly became that way inclined. Ian's guitar amp ended up behind a column, but apart from that, we were all visible and ready to rock. Then we had to move the PA and lighting tree on the left as they were blocking the access to the cellar. Nobody told us that as we set up. But we worked quickly and constructively to sort the minor issue out, I played my first proper band gig in the cellar of The Swan, the pub next door, in 1977 and for some reason I have never played at the Scythe. I have drunk (and been drunk) in there for most of my mis-spent youth. It was nice to close that particular little circle. Great to see our friend Julian Godley, long-standing bassist of this parish, who came to watch us. We had a good catch up. Always brilliant to see him. A lovely lovely chap.

We had an all-ages crowd in - one was 94 and he's there every week - and we blew them away. They hadn't all seen what we do before, so it was totally fresh to them, which helped us play it with a tad more enthusiasm, maybe. I thought we played with a determination and the right amount of flash - a 95% performance. The Roadhouse Blues medley that we do impresses ME everytime we do it, so it must work for them too. People said a lot of nice things to us between sets and afterwards and the venue really want us back. It will probably be next year now.

After the gig, we were talking to a chap who was there at the start of the gig and made himself known to Graham. He had played with Graham years ago. I vaguely know him by sight and had been busy setting the PA up and wiring it together, so I wasn't paying much attention. I generally get all of my set-up jobs done before I talk to people. He turned out to be the keyboard player from one of my all-time favourite north-west bands, THE WINCHESTERS. They always - without fail - blew me away and any praise from him, well.... I can sleep well tonight. Home about 1am. I wrote this last part of today's blog and was in bed by just about 1.30am. Out like a light.

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here. All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 21st:
Awake before 10am. I looked at stuff on my phone quickly and then got up to do the bathroom and go downstairs to make a coffee. Lynda got Rodney into a soft cat basket by putting his food in it. She zipped it up, but he escaped through another exit in the cat basket that hadn't been checked and was still loose. Annoyed doesn't begin to cover it. The cat-catcher friend who we are fostering him for has vanished into the ether and I am quietly furious. Hopefully Rodney will fall for it again, then we can get him downstairs with us.

I set about correcting the typos in yesterday's rather rushed blog. I usually do it when I am really tired, just before I go to bed and I don't spot them at the time.

Seeing as this is a blog about my radiotherapy, I may as well mention that after just two of the five sessions, I am definitely feeling the effects this time round. This doesn't fill me with joy at all. Not one bit. Ther have been a couple of almost frantic dashes to use facilities, which means I am going to have to plan things when gigging. Hopefully, this is a temporary side effect,

Listening to the new Sparks album, which is out at the end of the month. I have ordered the album, but I got an advance download link, They are to a fair degree revisiting their early sound. Sparks albums grow on you after repeated listens. There is always a hell of a lot to take in.

NEWSFLASH: 12.30pm. Lynda has managed to get Rodney into the cat carrier after much patient waiting and subtle use of treats. We've got him into the cage in the front room. It remains to be seen how he takes to it. Lynda says "he is pissed" at the moment. I sat in the front room with him awhile and he glared at me quietly. Better than hissing hostility.

I went for a sleep in the afternoon and got up about 4.30pm. Lynda came up with our early evening meal and we ate that watching Hell's Kitchen.

I left for the jam night at 5.30pm, arriving at 5.45pm, as usual. There was a function still on in the room, so I went round the block and loaded my gear in through the side door and didn't intrude into the function space at all. The landlady said she had forgotten to tell us the function is on until 6pm, so we could load into the room in half an hour at 6.15pm. I muttered something about having another much-needed half hour in bed. Graham felt exactly the same way. We were then asked what time we would be starting the jam and I said that as we could only load in half an hour later, we might be starting half an hour later. There was a short discussion about how long it takes us to set up.

It's a 6.15pm entry next week too. To be honest, getting there at 6.15pm at the very earliest in future makes a lot more sense to me. I will be able to eat at a more sensible time, for a start. So that's a plan. Our guitarist Ian usually turns up at 6.20pm. He's got the right idea. We rarely start at 7pm on the dot anyway, as the stage is only just about finished being set at that point (from a 5.45 start). With a 6.15pm load-in, we'll be ready to start when we are ready to start.

We had the usual suspects at the jam night and a good attendance. I was on stage most of the evening as there was a shortage of bassists. I also got to play some guitar.

The word came through that the track we released as a CD single has gone down a place to number 4 on The Heritage Chart. I think we have sold all of the CD's now.

As we were leaving, some drunken guy was hassling one of the younger barmaids, as she wouldn't let him in, as the venue was now closed. He was getting loud, abusive and a bit threatening to her and I kept a watch from a slight distance, but was ready to pitch in if he got silly. I wisely resisted the temptation to reply to him when he stupidly asked what the hell was going on when I wheeled my bass cabs past him, as he was constantly blocking the doorway and getting in our way. I've had enough trouble there already with the utter not-rights of Tyldesley. I don't want any more grief with them.  He gave up trying to get in and went with his two equally stupid-looking mates and they all went and wet the wall down at the side of the venue, before going off trying to get served in another pub.

In the car and home for 11.20pm.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 22nd:
So... another day in paradise. I woke up at 7am, and stopped Mary from peeing on my piled-up clothes and trainers, by emptying out, re-littering and bringing her litter tray where she could find it. Rodney has the front room to himself, even though he is in the cage, so her litter tray had to come out. That solved that little issue. I went back to sleep and, apart from an interruption to sort my alarm out, I slept until 11.40am. I feel utterly knackered at the moment. This isn't some sort of pity party, I'm just a bit bushed. Lynda lets me sleep. Tom, on the other hand, looks out of the front bedroom window, sees another dog and loses his mind. WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF, for God's sake, shut up.

A friend of mine called round to collect a disc from me that I had reserved for him, so I got out of bed. A happy bunny. We had a good catch-up. It was nice to see him.

Looking on the net, I fail to be wanting in the slightest to be dragged into the media bloodlust surrounding Phil Schofield and Holly Willoughby that has been going on for a short while now. He has been bullied, maligned and hunted by the UK press, who are seemingly acting as ITV's manic HR department in order to get him fired from their TV show. It's utterly despicable. I don't know the nature or the temperature of his relationship with Holly Wannabe, but it's nobody's business but theirs. I am horrified at some of the bigoted and nasty things that people are coming out with over this. Mark my words, nbow they have disposed of him, she will be next and the press will try to make sure neither of them ever work in television again. The press just make me sick.

A Slade page on Facebook that wants to control and handle all of the Slade members, posted their apparent disdain for our Jim Lea / Don Powell CDs release, because they don't control Jim Lea's Facebook page. Not really very constructive. Ho hum. The utterly pathetic power-struggles attached to a dead pop group. Sad. They won't mention or support a new release featuring half of Slade because they haven't done anything at all towards it...., or anything at all really. The person complaining never even saw the original band live.

Rachel turned up before 1.30 and we introduced her to Rodney and had a chat about ivy and other things and then we set off for The Christie. It's a 35 minute drive or thereabouts and it's nice to catch up and spend this important time with my lovely daughter. I am beyond thrilled that she has taken the time out to do this with me.

We arrived with time to spare and headed for Department 39 and a new team of Radiotherapy staff. I still don't now exactly how many suites they have that are working flat out, but I have seen 11. Today I was in Suite 1, which I am booked in for throughout, for the first time. It's like all of the others.

I lay on the hard bed, pants round my knees, shirt to my chin, and with a pice of kitchen roll protecting my modesty, porceeded to listen to the machine whirr and grind as I was scanned, then micro-adjusted to the correct position for 90 seconds of scary radiation. I lie there and mentally write this blog to myself as everything happens and then what pours out a couple of hours later is completely rubbish in comparison. I want to film the rotating plates, asI have never seen anything on earth like them, but I am fairly sure it would kill my phone. This is an Elekta video of a similar machine. Scroll to 6 minutes to see The Beast working.

My son Paul is back in the UK from a spell working away in Finland and hopefully he can join us for the last session of Friday and come for something to eat with us at The Trafford Centre to celebrate me being totally irradiated..

All of this means I have to start using the dreaded Whatsapp, much to Rachel's delight, as Facebook messenger doesn't prod her when I message.

On our way back, the hands-free phone rings and Rachel answers it. It's the nursery that April goes to. She hasn't been picked up. It's Dad's turn. They will ring him. Rachel gives it a moment, then she rings him. He has lost track of time, says a swear word and bolts for his car. The nursery charges £6 a minute if you are late picking your child up. Luckily, he can afford it. Rachel fumes quietly for a couple of minutes, then we talk about Northenden and the stupid location of the Airport Hotel. I was taken there once, years ago, as there was a problem with a plane. We were on the tarmac, ready to board, then a coach arrived and we were counted as we got onto it and it whisked us off to the Airport Hotel, where we were counted as we got off the coach then put in a room with a bar. The drinks were free while we waited, but before I could order a drink, we were counted back on the coach and driven back to the airport and counted once again as we got onto the plane. Bizarre.

Lynda's friend Cat, who rescued Rodney from the street, came round with some worming treatment and it was discovered that he seems to have severe cystitis, probably caused by stress. She bundled him off to get him seen by a vet and she currently has him.

I relaxed with a few beers after coming back from the hospital. I've been given a booklet with dietary advice during and after radiotherapy, which includes only eating part of a carrot, 6 cherries or 6 grapes, and other such mind-boggling things. I had some crisps and chocolate while I digested this advice. We watched an amount of TV - Malpractice, Coronation St, etc.

I fancied an early night tonight. Being toally undisciplined and not tired, I dd some band admin, messaging venues to confirm our June and July dates. it was 2.30am when I finally hit the hay.

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here. All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 23rd:
I was awake at 7am and then stayed awaked until after 9am. Lynda got up and instead of joining her, I went back to sleep for another hour, interrupted by snoozes on my phone.

Urology at Bolton hospital rang me at 11.30am to see how my radiotherapy is going..Three of five sessions down, 'not that I am counting', they said. They will see me in 6 months to monitor my PSA. It will be through the roof for a while because of swelling and internal damage, and because of the radiation. Fabulous.

We went to our friend Suzy's house to pick up a cat tree and some cat paraphernalia, as she has sadly lost her her last cat Thor. It was nice to get out and have a chat.

I took three dates for NEXT year for the band. Now, where can I get a 2024 pocket diary from? And yes, Amazon have provided.

Chris has put a sample copy of 'N Betweens CD with a signature sheet on Ebay and it's doing well. All of the money raised will go to a local care charity..

Rolf Harris has left the building and at one point, this would have been the cause of national mourning. I don't think that anyone cares now. It was so sad that he behaved the way that he did and blew his reputation to pieces. I used to have an office manager who was his absolutely uncanny doppelganger (to the point where people used to stop him on the street thinking he had his didgeridoo concealed somewhere about his person) and he was a nasty, horrible bully to his staff and a lot of his lower managers - the first of a few of that kind to manage the Bolton office.  A pile of vomit in a suit. As a Trade Union rep who dealt with him face to face far too often, I thought he was an utterly despicable excuse for a human being, so it is quite easy to imagine that Rolf Harris was totally unpleasant to some people too.

It's a nice day out. The temptation to give Tom a nice walk is strong, but I just feel like going back to bed at the moment.

I sat in my work / studio room, coaked in semi-darkness and did a couple of hours working on some alternative artwork for a new project, which looks like it may be the version that gets used. My photoshop courses have really paid off. I lose all track of time when I get into Photoshop work, as well as book writing.

The two volumes of the 'SLADE ON 45' books that I am working on are very Photoshop intensive, Lots of repetitive and not very exciting tasks. It will be great to read, but it is a swine to put together. I've had a couple of weeks off from that while doing the 'N Betweens single project. I got quite a few migraines while doing the On 45 books and it put me off a lot, as they were quiet debilitating. I will be back on the case with the books next week, though - as I have had a hell of a lot of contributions, making the book turn into a 2 volume set. a massive work.

Apart from that and some urgent band admin, it has mainly been a day of relaxing and listening to music and watching TV.

It's 11.46pm and I've just put Who's Next by The Who on  to listen to. I can't wait for the mega box set of that to come out. It has been significantly delayed by Pete Townshend being in the USA with The Who, among other things. There's a lot of discussion on an intelligent music forum that I frequent and the scope for material to include is immense. I can feel my credit card melting now. I have spent quite some money on catching up with their other fabulous super-deluxe box sets: My Generation, Sell Out, Tommy, Live At Leeds, Quadrophenia and Pete Townshend's Lifehouse Chronicles.

I play Super Challenge Freecell on the computer for a while and get to bed after 1am.
I am still astonished at a PC that boots up and has me logged in, in under a minute. What will they think of next?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 24th:
It's turned daylight. The house is suddenly alive with the sound of music. The dogs are going crackers. Whatever tune it is that our doorbell plays, I don't want to hear it at 8am. I open my eyes after a struggle, go into the bathroom, pull on a bathrobe and hurry to the front door. I am thrilled to see that our visitor is a stern-looking blonde nurse. All my Christmasses have come at once.... No, I jest. She looks at the dishevelled heap in front of her with quite well-concealed mute horror. She is here to see Lynda, as Lynda's heart problems tend to confine her to our home to some degree. Being a good, caring husband, I arranged home visits for check-ups because of that. She is primarily here to make sure that Lynda is still breathing, to weigh her and extract copious amounts of blood. Once I have moved the rather excitable dogs who want to look at her, out of the way, she is shown to our living room. She sent Lynda a text to say that she was coming. Lynda stopped using her mobile phone some time ago, much to my disquiet, as when I need to get hold of her sometimes, she won't go upstairs and answer the landline if it's in the charger. She's not keen on answering if the handset is next to her downstairs either. I go back upstairs and go lie down and browse Facebook for a while. I'm tired, but I'm not going to get back to sleep. Everything has obviously gone satisfactorily, as she hasn't bundled Lynda off to the hospital in an Ambulance. Lynda mutters to me that she has had enough blood taken and has been weighed often enough without people coming waking us up and getting us out of bed.

I come up and start writing today's blog thing. This. The car is still packed full of stuff from yesterday and I really could do with going to the supermarket. The stuff that the car is packed full of prevents that.  I've no idea where it is all going, but if it's the top floor, I can see a lot of lying down in my future. A cheese toastie arrives, with a nice fruity relish in it, and my day is complete, but not over yet..

Another lovely sunny day. My radiotherapy treatment, this afternoon, is at an slightly earlier time, so the traffic won't be too bad, going to and from Withington.

Lynda reminded me that I had said we had best go shopping, so she had emptied the car while I was tapping away at the first part of the blog. We went to Tesco in Walkden and stocked up on this and that and filled the car up with petrol. On the way back we had the pleasure of watching a motorcycle courier on the A road undertaking vehicles, weaving pointlessly in and out between cars and on a junction he sped past a car turning right on the nearside to it. It is quite possible that somebody is scraping him off the road somewhere by now. I've never seen anyone on a motorbike so reckless. https://stuart.com has nowhere to report bad riders like that. He will cause an accident soon enough.

Soon after we got back, Rachel arrived and after a brief chat, we set off for The Christie. The drive there was no problem. It's just the right time to be doing it. The weather is glorious.

I checked in at the reception desk for Suites 1-4 as usual.and was quickly taken in to be put in position for treatment. I forgpt to take my shoes off and got lightly scolded to take them off. My bad. Quickly done. I lay there and they checked my details again and got me into the correct position. I think they line me up with laser spots against the tiny tattoo spots on my hips and middle groin. Then after a bit of maneuvering and folding me into the final position, absolutely identically uncomfortable as before, they exit the room and  tell me to keep perfectly still. I do scratch my nose and hopefully that doesn't throw anything out. They scan me to make sure my position is correct and a slight adjustment is made to the bed position by remote control. Once it clicks into place, I wait. It takes a few minutes and they come over the intercom to say they haven't forgotten me.  Then it starts. The large parts of the machine do their little dance around my middle. and it's hard to tell when anything is actually happening. There's 90 seconds of me being lasted in a specific spot going on, but I see that the main lens that does the work is moving around the bed, so it's doing it from different angles. At one point in the proceedings, there is a sort of juddering noise. Probably nothing to be alarmed about, but when you are lying there in the middle of all this gear, with deadly radiation going on, you tend to notice the odd crenching noise as things rotate around you.

Then it's over. They come in, the lights go back up and I relax. Not that I wasn't relaxed while I was lying down. If I hadn't been concentrating so hard on keeping still, I might have fallen asleep. We make small talk about the band and they say Rachel and Paul can have a look at the machine on Friday, without me asking  - which I was going to do. Lovely people.

I get dressed, grab Rachel and we're off again, down the road to the M60, onto the M60 and we make a stop on the way back at Tesco in Farnworth. They have boxes of Brewdog Black Heart stout (a bit like Guinness) at £10 clubcard price. It's £12 at Walkden. I pounce on two boxes and pay. Rachel spots that they haven't deducted the clubcard discount, though I have got the points. Off to customer services. The offer has just expired, but I have bought 2 boxes according to the displayed offer price, so I get a quick £4 refund and off we jolly well pop in the direction of home. Mission accomplished / target achieved. We discuss possibly doing something on the coming Bank Holiday Monday.

We get to mine and I leave a box in the car for Rachel and Ste. In the house and I sit down with a can of Neck Oil and get blogging. With it done up to this point, I debate whether to get an hour's sleep or not.

They told me that the radiotherapy would take it out of me, due to the high dosage. I ended up having three hours of really good deep sleep and waking up with a nasty crick in my neck. I came downstairs and we had our evening meal and watched TV.

I put the diary dates for the band in next year's diary. This kerfuffle all usually starts with everyone doing a mad scramble in September. It seems a bit unreal. Nice to be wanted, anyway.

I read that we have just lost Tina Turner and am just heartbroken for her family. Her troubles are over. I've got the Private Dancer album on now and it's been followed by her Break Every Rule album. She was always great. Even when they did their damnedest to make her look as mad as a box of frogs in the Tommy film when she played The Acid Queen brilliantly.We won't see her like again. Don't say Beyonce. She isn't even a speck of dust compared to Tina Turner. I watch Beyonce with the sound off. I listen to Tina Turner.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 25th:
Awake early and up before 9am. Another lovely sunny day. Marvin has to go to the Vets at 11am, so now he's been fed he has to be kept in, instead of him patrolling the next few gardens. He's a very determined mog, so he will try to muscle his way out of the house somehow. He seems much better. He doesn't have that rattle as he breathes now. I don't know if his treatment did the trick or whether he would have got better like this as fast on his own. We couldn't have him sounding like he did, though.

I was given a booklet by The Christie on Monday, when I mentioned my mildly irritated bowel. It has been the source of much hilarity between Lynda and myself, concerning the timy measures of anything that I am allowed. We have laughed ourselves silly at what it thinks a human being can live on. I'm tucking into a huge bowl of Corn Flakes at the moment. I'm pretty sure they aren't in the booklet.

9.45am... there goes my alarm. At 11am, we are at The Vet's and Marvin, who has been kept prisoner against his will, is checked over. He is less than chuffed, because he was taken to The Vets in a cat carrier that is only just capable of holding him. Our usual carrier is currently with Rodney, elsewhere, while he recovers from his Vets trip. Marvin isn't breathing noisily anymore and with just another steriod injection to make sure and a long-lsting antibiotic already in place, we escape the Vets without paying a lot out this time. The main thing of course is that Marvin is ok. We get him home and give him some more food to make up for the terrible trauma we have subjected him to.

I spent some of the morning and early afternoon working on the A and B-side label detail for a possible limited short-run 7" vinyl single project. The labels are looking really good. I will get round to doing the main work of applying them to templates next week. I still have to master the b-side track to a suitable .wav file. We have to work out who would actually get the 20 or so copies that we intend to have made. They are not at all cheap to do. I only want one copy for myself, though as it is officially sanctioned, I may also get one to put on Ebay. I can't show the labels at this point.

I took Oscar and Tom for a walk early lunchtime. We walked round past the nearby Century Mill, which is fast disappearing and I am still kicking myself that I didn't find out who to contact to gain permission to access the building before it became a hard hat zone. It was a longer walk than Oscar likes, so when he got off his lead as we went around Dixon Green Lodge, he didn't half dawdle his way around.

Back home, I had a lie down for a bit and checked some sites out.

I have a good video chat with Chris about the various book projects that we have lined up, some new ideas and a running order for doing them. We did a good brainstorm on the 'SLADE IN FLAME AT 50' book too and have come up with some good new ideas for it. So good that I started with a migraine at the end of the chat. It cleared up quickly enough.

We had our evening meal and watched some TV, then I gave Oscar a quick bath. He runs around like a little loony afterwards and it's really funny to watch.

TV until Lynda went to bed, then I watched Question Time, to see the Tory getting ripped a new one. Theo Paphitis was on and he was absolutely bob-on every time he opened his mouth. 'Why aren't you answering the question?' he asked the Tory. Wonderful.

Following my brainstorm with Chris, I did some of the writing for the SLADE IN FLAME AT 50 book and really enjoyed it and whizzed the couple of pages that I had written off to him via Messenger.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 26th:
LAST DAY OF RADIOTHERAPY

I was awake well before my alarm went off at 9.45. An earlier appointment today, which meant getting up and about and doing a few things earlier on. I had a quick video chat with Chris about some writings I had sent him after midnight for him to look at this morning. We are well into the new idea.

My son Paul turned up and I was overjoyed to see him. He's been away in Finland working for a month or so and it was a joy to have my two children here with me to support me on the last day of my Radiotherapy. When Rachel arrived, we had a few minutes out in the back garden before setting off. Lovely sunshine. Mary has started coming out of the house after about six months of being scared witless at the very idea of 'outside'.

We took the M60 and it was not bad at all. We were heading towords lunchtime and a bit late setting off through chatting, but we parked up with 10 minutes to spare. Coming out of the car park, Paul saw two of his friends from Nantwich and was dropped on that one of them was there for radiotherapy and chemotherapy. Paul looked a bit shaken. I wish his friend the absolute very best of luck. He won't have asked for this, either.

The final session was much like the others. The same music piped into the room while it was going on. I only recognised one of the songs today - the first one, Moving on up by M People. There was a five or so minute gap between the scan and the actual treatment. I lay as still as the dead. I didn't even scratch my nose. After the treatment, Rachel and Paul came in to see the machine. Paul asked how much they were to buy - several million pound each. So when you donate to the Christie, that's what your money goes on. There are ten suites and a private suite. They answered a number of questions. They love their job and they are doing great and very valuable work

I couldn't thank the staff enough. Mere thank you's are not adequate. I did the bell ringing thing (which Rachel filmed) and thanked the radiology team from the bottom of my heart, they are wonderful.

I took Rachel and Paul on a quick Magical Mystery Tour of the hospital before we left, pointing out my landmarks: Surgery in Dept 4. Ward 11 up those stairs, after the op, for two weeks instead of just two days. Dept 39 for my radiotherapy. The summerhouse and garden in the very middle of the hospital where I could practice my standing up and walking and go and try to forget it all for the odd hour with a book after my operation. Whoever thought of that was a genius. I used to walk there in my semi-catatonic state with drainage bags hanging off me iunder a bathrobe. I must have looked a real sight. And everybody there has seen a lot worse. Dept 31 where I had my scans this time around. A couple of other places that have contributed so much to saving my life. Everything apart from the summerhouse is well-hidden off the main corridor. You don't see what's going on in the side rooms, the tears, the despair, the deaths, the joy, the miracles.... Occasionally you will see a small child being wheeled down a corridor and your heart breaks for them and their families. Then they are taken into a small side room off that corridor, out of sight, and they make it or they don't. 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, the place is stretched to the end of its endurance. And they are magnificent.

THANK YOU.

The really weird thing about all of this is that I never felt that anything was at all wrong at any point leading up to being checked out. I finished work in 2015 and in early 2016, Lynda had succeeded in making me go to get myself checked out, as she said I was going to pee a lot, after practically being addicted to coffee. I can't begin to thank her enough for making me go to the Doctor. I'd be in REAL TROUBLE now if she hadn't. I might still be in real trouble, to be honest, but I would have had far less chance of surviving this if I hadn't given in and gone for the blood test.

We drove away for the last time for a short while - I have to see my Christie consultant soon and I will have my PSA checked in about 6 weeks.

We went to The Trafford Centre and I treated them to a meal at the excellent Tampopo restaurant. We don't get together too often and it was just joyous to all be together today. I had a Thai Green Curry with rice and a side order of fries to share and a bottle of Tiger lager.

Back to ours and a little bit of time together before Rachel went to see April and Paul went to his grandma's - on hs Mum's side, My mum lost a short one-sided fight with cancer in 1989. Once the children (can I still call them that?) had gone, I settled down to do a little web stuff and relax with a couple of cans of Lost Lager. The physical copy of the new Sparks CD arrived today, too.

Lynda got exhausted and went to bed for a while. At about 9pm, we had a toastie to keep us going - accompanied by a can of Dark Heart stout that Lynda had poured for me - and then we took the dogs out for a walk. On getting back, Lynda said 'why don't we nip for a drink at the local pub to celebrate the end of your radiotherapy?' Those of you who know me at all will know that I am not one to disobey such an instruction, so we nipped into The Grapes for one. After that, we decided to go to The Kings Arms. A pleasant late evening. I watched a bit of YouTube after Lynda went to bed, including a video where someone built a Brian May Red Special guitar from scratch. Very inspiring. Some hours went into that, as well as some incredible skill. The guitar sounded just right. Bed at about 1.30am.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 27th:
Awake at 7am. Went back to sleep at about 8am. Up again at 10.45. Lynda was sat in the back garden, as the weather's gorgeous again. One of the adjoining fence panels to us, that another neighbour is responsible for, is in a state of total collapse. Lynda feels like going knocking on their door. I looked at the website where we got our UPVC fencing from and the delivery for 5 of the smaller panels would be £55, making the total price stupid. I looked on Amazon and got them with £8.50 delivery. Prime delivery doesn't apply on this product. I will have to cut them down to size to get them to fit, but they will never rot away.

Seeing as the weather was beautiful, I perversely went indoors to do a bit of web work, with a couple of Del Amitri live shows playing on Youtube.

At 7.15pm, I set off for our gig at Lane Ends in Burnley. I can't remember the last time I was so tired. Lynda asked me why I was going out if I was feeling so rubbish. I said I'd be ok. I tend to get 'a second wind' when I play.

The drive was ok and I got there about 8pm. I helped Graham to load his gear in and then we set up. The gig was good. We played well and the crowd and the pub staff enjoyed it. At one point in the break we were asked if we genuinely play live. That was a bit of a shock to me. Apparently, a glam band who work in the same area as we do don't play live. A bit of a surprise to me if that's actually right. Having seen them up close, I'd have said that they do play live, with lots of sound effects dropped in. Our last song finished at 11pm on the dot, as requested. Graham was feeling a bit iffy at the end of the gig, so we wrapped it up neatly with a shorter song (Do Wah Diddy) and got off and got on our way. I called at the McDonalds that's between Accrington and Haslingden on the way home for a quick fries and shake.

When I got home, I did some quick messing with my Kindle Fire, which I use as a media player on stage with the band. There's a Windows 11 fix that improves connectivity, so I can transfer music in Media Monkey and play it on the Kindle through the PA.

I looked around the house and couldn't see mary anywhere. I put the lights on in the back garden and called her. After a minute or so, she appeared, looking scared out of her wits and barrelled into the house, almost knocking me over as she ran past. Bed at about 1am.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 28th:
I didn't really appreciate being woken up by Tom, a little after 7am, noisily fighting his way into some packs of cat treats and scattering the wrapping all over our bedroom floor, while chomping away triumphantly. It woke me up properly. Lynda was up already. I went downstairs got a pan and brush and grumpily picked all the trail of scattered packaging debris up. Lynda got it right. She laughed out loud, resigned to the fact that Tom is Tom.... You can't be mad at Tom. He has food anxiety. Oscar is much more sensible. He knows food will come to him. So here I am at 8.52, typing this blog and chatting to Graham on messenger, to see how he's feeling this morning, as he is up already. I will get an hour's sleep later on.

So, I went back to bed at about 9.30am and went back to sleep until about 12.30. When I woke up, it wasn't like waking up. I was still tired out. I'd had 8 hours sleep.

Some pottering around, watching TV news. Philip Schofield is bigger news than the Ukraine. Ridiculous. It seems to be about two consenting adults having sex, whether they work at the same place is entirely up to them. The only person that Mr Schofield needs to apologise to is Mrs Schofield. The witch-hunters and not-rights of this world are having a blood-lust-filled field day. They're after Holly Willoughby's scalp now... "She MUST have known..." they anguishedly cry, as if he is a BEAST like Savile. He was hiding an affair, so he wasn't going to tell everybody. But the mean-spirited, stupid idiots will insist on as many pounds of flesh as they can get. They are even hell-bent on getting the the ITV morning TV show cancelled and they will be targeting the performance and private life of Dermot O'Leary and anyone near him next. They will probably  get the show canceled and then whine that there is nothing on ITV on the morning. The press are vindictive stupid idiots, who need to get proper jobs.

If Schofield IS guilty of grooming the younger male, then he's deservedly in trouble.

The Ukraine, of course, remains a stupid and baffling stalemate. Putin hasn't got the forces to take and retain any area, while moving on to take others. If his troops move, the area gets re-claimed. Ukraine can only do limited damage to Russia, due to the distance involved. All it is achieving is costing Putin money he is starting not to have from their decimated economy. Putin - to save face - may crack at some point, due to the lack of progress, and start using biological weapons, or limited nuclear attacks. BUT they are hopefully too close to Russia to do that and anything that affects the countries around the Ukraine will result in the rest of the world having little choice but to join in, in which case, this blog and everything within thousands of miles of it will be obliterated within ten minutes of those red buttons being pressed.

There's the odd mention of peace talks, but Putin wants to gain territory and  naturally Ukraine do not want to lose an inch of their territory and would want to get a little bit back that was annexed before the whole conflict started. If the rest of the world had not slept through that happening, we wouldn't have this farce occurring now.

Graham sent to a photo of him to tweak for band posters. It was an hour's work to get rid of all of the background, but I think it works nicely.

I had a restful afternoon and set of for the jam just after 6pm. That's going to be my set-off time from now on. We all landed pretty much at once. It was again a good, well-attended jam night. I seemed to be the only bass player there - so I never got off the stage, but with the people I was backing this evening, the three and a half hours was a pleasure. We had one nutter who was perving at a young girl who sang a few songs with us. He weirded me out, so he was moved. Later on, he tried to do a stage invasion to get on a mic. We stopped dead and started him out. Then he was ejected from the premises. A few welcome hugs and well--wishes from friends before I left the jam.

I found out during the evening that the 'N Betweens track has gone down to #9 on The Heritage Chart. People have moved on to other things, understandably, so have stopped voting for the track. It doesn't help that the Don Powell Band have just announced that they are putting a track out well in advance of the actual release date, which distracts people.The track features Jim Lea on guitar and these's a video for it.

The load-out from the jam night was good and I was home for 11.30pm. A taxi was blocking my drive when I got home and I employed several sets of sign language and was just going to get out of my car and tell him I wanted to get onto my drive, or else, when he suddenly got my drift and moved his car. I unpacked the car and came to do this blog. I am utterly knackered. Got to bed late as usual.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 29th:
Awake at 7am. Bathroom. Back to bed. Didn't really get back to sleep properly. Bushed. We have arranged to go out for the afternoon with Rachel, Ste and April. Heaton Park is a big, lovely space, with animals and lots of grass.

We were slightly late getting there as the car park we arranged to meet on is currently closed, so we had to head back up towards Prestwich and take a side road and meet up in the St Margaret's Road car park, which i have never used before. We had a lovely afternoon in glorious scorchio type weather and Oscar got the walk of his life and Tom enjoyed it too (though he was, as usual, car sick on the way there). April saw a huge pig, an alpaca, a tortroise, various other animals and birds and a donkey. Not to mention a squirrel who got a nut, thanks to a kind local who passed one to April to throw for the squirrel.. The walk got rather too much for Lynda so we headed back home. Tom and Oscar were watered regularly. I caught uop with some beers afterwards. We gave Rachel a pair of cat trees for her impending new arrivals, who April wants to call Wee and Poo. LOL.

Lynda was exhausted after the trip out and ended up going to bed early. I watched some stuff on YouTube and listened to some music.

You'll all think I'm mad, but I simply love this song. The video's great too. If Alice Cooper changed the lyric slightly, he could have a staggeringly massive hit with this.

I think this song is brilliant too..A massively talented girl. Her whole album is good.

So all of you who think I pound my head every day with Metallica or Iron Maiden may be staggered to learn that I don't knowingly have a single record by them in my house.

I did an amount of urgent fixing of images on the band website and got to bed at 2.30am.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 30th:
Awake at 9am, though I didn't get up for quite a while. I just lay in bed resting. Oscar is having trouble walking on one of his paws after yesterday. We probably walked him a bit too far in the heat, so lots of rest and fuss for him today.

Mike rang me up asking me to change my lunch day with him from tomorrow. He suggested meeting up today to me at 12.30pm - an hour's notice to drop everything and get myself into town. I was well stuck into my book work and I wasn't going to drop it and lose a day's work. he's not doing tomorrow because he's having a longer lunch today, so it will have to be next week. People seem to think I have a week that can just be changed around just like that. I don't  I won't do Mondays - I'm too tired to unload the car and then go out gallivanting, unless I REALLY HAVE TO, and it's best kept for book work. Either Tuesdays or Wednesdays are good for me. Thursdays will be back to visiting Dave Disley again when I am a bit more up to it. I won't do Fridays if I am gigging that evening. Some Fridays are possible.

I put an Oncolgist appointment in my diary for 8.35am on November 28th at Bolton Hospital. That''s going to be interesting. I have terrible trouble with that time in the morning. I can do it, yes..., but if I don't have to, then it's better for me. Oh well. No doubt i will soon get a ltter asking me to see my Oncologist at the Christie Hospital.to discuss how my radiotherapy went. I expect that to be in about 6 weeks - mid-July.

The whole thing still seems quite unreal to me. Dealing with cancer when i have never ever felt a thing from it, just from the treatment to get rid of it. I could have been happily pootling along with my life with the ticking time bomb getting worse and worse to the point where it was incurable and spreading like crazy.

I did a good few hours of book work today and took the page count in the first volume of SLADE ON 45 up to 136 pages (from 119). That meant doing a lot of quite laborious and detailed Photoshop work on a whole bunch of images. Some were complex fixes and quite time consuming. I am having to take some slight liberties with red Polydor labels as Amazon have trouble printing those red labels clearly. I was absolutely horrified at the terrible print quality on some images in the very first copies of THE NOIZE and took the book off sale briefly, while I took some red out of all the red labels images. I've learned how to compensate for Amazon's shortcomings, but it means making some labels lighter than they really are and taking the level of that pesky red down. It takes ages to do, as well as cropping and cleaning labels by taking writing off them and taking damage and unsightly creases off picture sleeves, so that they look pristine.

My mate Dave has been taken back into hospital today. He's struggling after his operation and he's really weak at the moment. I don't pray, but he's very very much in my thoughts. During the evening's TV, I watched Coronation Street with growing horror at the fact that one of the characters, Paul, has been given a truly tragic Motor Neurone Disease diagnosis. His symptoms are advancing slowly but surely and, after watching one of my most dearly loved friends - Alan Mosiezny - suffer and degenerate with this horrible ailment as his speech and then his mobility and muscle control were cruelly taken away from him, until he could fight it no more, I am dreading watching the programme, as if they do it properly, and I am sure they will, it will be horrific to watch. Viewer complaints are going to soar, because nobody is going to be able to bear it. It is a horrendous incurable ailment and it usually only ends one way.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

May 31st:
A solid day's book work, sorting images out in photoshop and placing them into the right section of the book. I am concenmtrating on Volume 1 of the book at present. I'd like to publish the first volume at the end of June. Just three lines to cover everything I have done so far today from about 10.30 onwards.

I was absolutely worn out after doing the book work and went to bed and ended up having 3 hours sleep. That means that I will have trouble getting to sleep tonight. Some TV in the evening until Lynda hit the hay, then I did some more book work, with the Beatles on in the background. I'd forgotten what a great album Magical Mystery tour was. Some fabulous tracks... The Revolver remaster by Giles Martin from 2022 is simply superb, too. Heading for 2.30am. Time to try to sleep.

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here. All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 1st:
Awake at 9.45am, just about... I put a pdf up in a secret location for the contributors to the Slade On 45 book yesterday evening and a couple of comments have come back about a couple of singles possibly being in 'slightly wrong' company sleeves ('1966 single in 1968 sleeve'.type stuff). No doubt a couple of 'experts will demand refunds and slag the book all over the internet because of this, so Chris has advised a degree of caution and is supplying alternate imges from his collection. Having done my research I am happy with the Fontana disc and the two Columbia singles being correct and so they are staying put.

The royalties for March book sales came through today, so I have settled the final donation to www.kidneyrearch.org.uk for March and also the last smattering of Slade Newsletter Book sales in April. I've paid those off early, so it's one less thing to do. Between the book sales and Ebay auction for 4 copies signed by Jim Lea of Slade, we raised a grand total of £1742.59. If my online detractor would like to match that just to spite me, go ahead.

Word has come back from Don Powell that he thinks the 'N Betweens CD single is "GREAT". Good. Another job well done.

Our friends Ken and Maureen came round to see us for a couple of hours and we had a lovely chat. Maureen has been through serious cardiac issues like Lynda has and some of her tales were harrowing. It was still a good evening. We're all still here, despite our variety of health issues and that's what counts.

I've caught a cold (or it's hay fever) and it's starting to affect my throat. This weekend will see me in denial throughout and drinking lots of water to lubricate my pipes.

Some TV later on. At 10pm, the alarm on my phone went off as it does every week and various birds tweet to remind me to put the bins out.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 2nd:
My alarm dutifully played whatever awful noise it is that I can't focus on that early in the morning and told me it was 9.45am and I dutifully told it to bugger off and swiped right on my phone to tell the alarm to go away, no snoozes please. I woke up properly shortly afterwards and zipped to the bathroom and performed my morning scrub and brush, etc.

I made a coffee and went to sit out in the back garden for a short while for a relax in the sun. The relax turned into me tinkering with the gap where our neighbours fence should be and sort of putting it back into place as a laughable type of temporary fix. I covered it up with some sheets of fake greenery that make it look slightly like there's a bush there, until you look too closely.Somebody will just look at that section of fence and it will fall apart again. Not long until the UPVC walnut fancing arrives and I can get out the saw and cut it to size and slot it into place. That will then see us out.

Lynda's prescription was ready late yesterday afternoon and I saw the text too late to go and get it then. She has a few of each of her multiplicity of tablets left, so it wasn't literally a life or death situation today. I was going to walk it to get some exercise then Lynda reminded me of a few items that we needed from Tesco, so I decided the car was a better option.

I sailed off in the genral direction of Tesco, calling in to get the prescription on the way. Tesco was a breeze, not too busy and I had my clubcard and a £5.50 off voucher, so all was good.

I went to The Bridgewater Hotel on Buckley Lane for a quiet pint of Sam Smiths beer. I was passing, unencumbered by Tom, who would have meant that I would have to go and sit in the outside yard. My mobile phone was on silent, so they wouldn't get the tablets of stone out and lecture me about the place being a totally comms-tech-free zone. You can't use a totally silent Kindle with lovely accessibility options to read your book in there, but you can struggle to read the same book on paper. Madness, A young Chinese-Asian girl served me my pint in an inscrutable sort of Oriental silence, fortunately without any of the accompanying lectures that I usually get from the surly barman who skulks angrily behind the bar, eager to recite the litany of rules and watching like a hawk in case someone tries to sneak a momentary peek at their phone, so he can go into his pre-rehearsed endless lecture on what you can't do in the building. It's a wonder he hasn't ended up wearing some people's drinks. He makes it the most unwelcoming pub in Bolton.

I left the bar with my pint, and headed outside to sit in the sun with my paper. I usually go there to sit inside as it is a really nice old-fashioned style pub. It's been totally gutted and refurbished in recent years, so everything is repro-antique, but I really like it. I am waiting for  the Lion Of Vienna pub to reopen after its own refurbishment (Bolton's other and actually nicer art deco-interiored Sam Smiths pub) so I can go there instead. Just as I was heading through the door, I heard some jobsworth woman telling the barmaid that her hair shouldn't be in a bob, it should be tied back. It's not long enough to tied back, but never mind. This barking of orders from the ugly old trout (bullying the staff instead of the customers for a change) piqued my interest just a little, so I came back inside and found a seat in one of the side rooms. I sat down with my paper, hoping to hear more carping, but the jobsworth had shut up. The barmaid's hair stayed exactly as it was. The surly barman walked in and went behind the bar, glancing momentarily in my direction through the window in the door. He saw a paper and no phone and so he left me alone.

Upon opening the Daily Mail, I saw that Phllip Schofield is still being crucified on a daily (Mail) basis and I still don't see what he has done that is so dreadfully wrong. If, as he says, there is no grooming involved, then he's just quietly had an affair with another member of ITV staff, who was a consenting adult. The newspapers are being totally disgracefully homophobic and are acting like a lynch mob, as are the citizens of the UK's internet, who are posting the worst nonce memes and lumping him in with Savile and the like. It's just barbaric. If he had taken up with a younger woman, they would have all been saying what a naughty boy he was, but in effect patting him on the back and saying 'what a lad.'. He's reached a giddy height and they are just loving taking him down. You could see it coming when he was sent by his employers to view HMTQ lying in state via the press entrance, and then the not-rights of the world, who to-a-man hadn't even bothered to queue themselves, squealed like stuck piglets in righteous indignation at what they stupidly saw as this awful queue jumping over the mortals who had actually bothered. Hypocrisy and bullying by the ill-informed and catatonically stupid unwashed masses.

If Schofield IS guilty of grooming the younger male, however, then he's deservedly in trouble.

I came back past the receding Century Mill. Sad to see a building with such character go, but even I - as a lover of old buildings - have to admit it was left to become a rotting eyesore. Soon it will be a plot full of new-build identikit unaffordable housing.

When I got home, Lynda was a bit baffled as to how some Fairy washing-up liquid, a toastie loaf and a small bottle of milk cost £29.75 after all the discounts had been applied. I reminded her of my box of Punk IPA beer and the box of Dark Heart stout that I was filling my fridge with (that she had reminded me to buy), plus some Ritz crackers, crisps and a Ginsters veggie pasty on top of my three-item shopping list. Oh, and a copy of The Daily Mail to read in the pub.

Lynda had started on a toastie with cheese and a blob of mango chutney for my lunch, so I gobbled that down too. Lovely. She's trimmed the huge woolly mnoster known as Oscar to within an inch of his life. He looks great,

2.30pm. The sun's doing that thing outside, so I am going to go and sit out for a bit. I have a chat with Chris about our online critic saying that the CD single was 'too expensive'. He doesn't know how much it cost us to have it done. £9.95 including packing and postage in the UK wasn't that bad a deal, as far as I could tell. The P+P was around £2.00 for the UK copies. We paid for 200 discs to be made. A number went to the band and their families and we had a couple each plus a couple of copies for competition prizes and a charity auction. Divide what is left, about 150, by what we were charged, and - yes - we did end up in the black, but not by what people might think. Any surplus income after recouping our initial outlay will go to our next single project,

The fence panels turn up. The dogs bark. I get the panels in.

I run a bath and decide to ring the doctor's surgery on Lynda's behalf. They are talking about a medicene review for Lynda, or they will not refill her presecription. I tell them that her heart specialist is the only one who can review her medicenes and he will do that in July. The girl I am talking to isn't having that, so we will let the surgery ring up to be told the same. I manage to get them to do another home visit for the blood samples they require. When I am done, Lynda fumes quietly and says that the doctor's surgery have a letter from her specialist saying he will review her medicenes in July. She has the letter in her hand. It also says on the letter that she is not diabetic. So the review call will be a waste of time and the blood test is as good as pointless, too. Lynda resolves to email her specialist's secretary to alert the doctor to what Stonehill Medical Centre are doing. Hopefully he will sort them out.

We have an amusing few moments changing the duvet on the bed. Lynda struggles with it. I end up turning into DEVETMAN, climbling inside the duvet cover to get it all in place. Something we can both laugh at.

I have 35 minutes in the bath, reading some more of the Guns'N'Roses book. They seem to manage to do a lot of seriously bad drugs - someone overdoses fatally while with Slash and Axl Rose goes round being unpleasant to a lot of people. They pig-headedly put out their first album in a cover that got censored by record stores and which eventually changed for a less offensive design. The album looked like disappearing and they were totally chaotic, yet they got to share a bill with Aerosmith. The author seems to think this is all good old rock'n'roll stuff. There's nothing at all glamourous about someone overdosing on heroin. He is pandering to their more infantile and impressionable fans by saying oh look how bad they are!!

Eloise, who sometimes comes to the jam night, has messaged the band page, asking where the pub is tonight and if it is 'safe'. A question I can never answer for a trans person and rarely ever try to answer. I only think about the question later on, when it's too late to get back in touch.

I pack up the car for the evening's festivities just before 6pm and then I can have a rest before I have to get changed and go out at about 7.30pm. It's an awkward load-in up a side alley, so I want to get there early and get a space quite near the entrance. I am half asleep when the time comes to drive off to Atherton.

I get away on time and get the car lined up with the narrow entrance to where the Pendle Witch pub is.  The cars behind me are not happy that I have to do an odd sharp turn and am going up this tiny side street. Hard luck. I get up there without damaging the car by turning in VEEEEEEERY slowly -sorry, not sorry - and get loaded in.. Graham arrives and sails in with no difficulty. Ian carries his gear down a narrow alley from the car park near the Indian restaurant to the rear of the venue. I have too much gear to do that, it would take ages, so I am stuck with using the narrow alley....

We get set up and have a good gig. I see a message saying that Eloise has decided not to come. Some old friends of ours are there and it is great to see them. Nice to talk to Suzanne about my Urology woes, as she's worked there. When people ask how I'm doing, I usually don't go into any detail and just say 'ok thanks' - Talking to Suzanne is different, she knows the score, so we had a damn good chat about where I was up to in response. An annoyance is that my Kindle Fire, which I use as a media player has glitched and won't load MediaMonkey. No siren in Blockbuster tonight. We close the gig with I Want You To Want me and Surrender, for a change, before Rockin' All Over the World as the final encore. We take a re-booking for early November. I do NOT want to try to negotiate the entrance up the narrow alley in winter snow.

Again, to get the car up the tiny entrance where the pub is, I have to do a wide turn by swinging slightly left on the main road to get into the tiny side street on the right to load out from the pub. This time, a car behind me decides IT HAS TO to overtake me as I am turning right and almost hits the side of my car. This is despite me clearly signalling what I was doing and making the turn slowly and carefully, so as not to hit the bloody walls. This is an excellent way to get killed by some Atherton not-right and I am so freaked out by this that I nearly get out of my car and go to loudly interview him about it. I decide against doing that and get out of his way, get my gear in the car and get home.
I grab a packet of crisps when I get in, which Tom ends up wanting as much as me and go up to my studio room to start furiously messing about with my Kindle to try to make the media player work. At 2am, I give up and go to bed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 3rd:
I am awake before my alarm goes off at 10am. Cats climbing all over me as usual. Dogs all over the bed, leaving me no room. I get up and faff about with the Kindle. No joy. I check if the micro SD card I ordered is still within it's return period, as it no longer works. I print off the return info and head to the Post Office. The knackered card heads back to Amazon. I have a good chat with my mate Mark in Liverpool on the walk there and back.

The Kindle doesn't like the new card I have put in it either. Removing the SD card and using the Kindle's own internal drive works as far as installing MediaMonkey, which isn't showing any playlists.... but the Pro version asks you to install MediaMonkey first (which I have, but goes no further). It's a pain in the butt. I have a larger tablet, but that's not going out of the house.

The iPod touch is back in use for now until I manage to work out what garbage is going on with the Kindle.Technology.... I sometimes think it is more trouble than it's worth.

I fall asleep on the sofa watching a documentary about Brian Jones from The Rolling Stones. Once I have eaten something and have woken up a bit, I am in a better state to face the world, and hopefully entertain them to some degree.

I set off at 7.30 for the evening's gig in Chorley.  I got there a little before 8pm and, as usual, the parking was a nightmare, I parked on some double-yellows with my hazard lights on while I unloaded. Graham was a couple of hundred yards down the road. At one point during my labours, a car pulled away from right outside the pub. I zipped inside and got my keys. As I pulled out, I saw Graham hurtling back down the road in reverse. He'd also seen the space. I let him have the space. He was parked much in a worse worse spot than I was. I was about to reverse to where I was parked before, when Graham said I'd probably get mine in if he backed up a little. It was a tight maneuvere and I had some people watching and shouting instructions from the top of the embankment. That annoyed the hell out of me, as they got critical when I didn't feel confident at one point and came out to try again. OK, they can see what's going on, but it's my car and in front of me is a skip and behind me, Graham's car. I got it into place and finished the unload. Shotrly afterwards, I saw out guitarist ian turn up and drive round for a while, before he settled on the double yellows where I had been, to unload. Then the car in front of him moved shortly afterwards, so I gave him a tip to move his car forward. A couple of people did what someone does at most fo our gigs - asks us what we play and wants to know all of the songs, etc. This happens so often that I just say '60's onwards, you'll know them all' and carry on with whatever important piece of setting up they are interrupting. This bloke got belligerent, saying what a ray of sunshine I was. I ignored him and got on with my work.

Setting up in a small space isn't easy when all of the tables and chairs are still in place because of the receded football crowd- rarely the case, as most venues know to have the space clear for the band in good time. We do not get involved in the moving of pub furniture, beyond the occasional chair. The bar staff quickly and efficiently cleared the space and we got a quite tidy set-up done. The punters had been in all day for football and so they drained away during the first spot. We recognised a big bald guy and his other half from last time. They went ape for us the last time we played there. He filled the jukebox with old rock classics until we went on. This time, we wowed them while we were playing, but they went and sat in a crowd of their mates outside in the rear beer garden at half time and listened to us from outside. The second half was us, a few people playing pool, a couple dotted round the pub and the bar staff. I don't like having to say "we've finished that one" at the end of a song to get a small reaction when greeted with silence, but I did so a couple of times. The atmosphere was absolutely dead. We did however play a pretty good second half, though  In that situation, which is thankfully rare, I play for myself and all of the people who aren't there. I missed some songs out and we stopped dead on 45 minutes, including the obligatory pity encore. The landlady had gone home early and we got paid by the barman.

The M61 was quite clear on the way home and I was back home before 1am.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 4th:
My alarm went off and I stopped it and went back to sleep. Shortly afterwards, I was forced into 100% wakefulness by Mary being sick on the bed. I kept Tom away from it, and mopped up as much as was possible. I went downstairs and told Lynda that I was going to beome DUVETMAN again shortly. She was unimpressed.

Blazing sunshine outside.... what to do? Too hot to go out with the dogs. I made a few new playlists for the iPod and PA.

I meant to get a bit of sleep this afternoon, but failed to do so. We watched some TV and that thing happened that never ever does.... They say "if you are affected by issues in this program, you can ring this number". The MND issues Paul is having on Coronation Street are REALLY breaking my heart as it's my friend Alan slowly dying all over again and I just can't bear it. I'm not going to go anywhere to look for support, as it's not real, but it's all I can do not to sit there and cry, watching these actors on their silly little TV show mapping out my really good friend's excruciatingly slow and painful bodily disintegration all over again. Alan spoke to me, while he still had speech working, to say he was very seriously thinking of going abroad for an assisted suicide, as he knew what was coming. He and his wife toughed it out, with his house drastically adapted and her ending up caring for his every need, rather than go down that road, but he'd had enough quite a long time before he passed away. It just makes me so very very sad to think of him going through that.

I can't say a word to Lynda - as understanding as she can be sometimes, she'll just think I am stupid.

I dragged myself away from the horror story that is Coronation Street and left for the jam night at 6pm, arriving at 6.15pm. Someone persistently kept asking me how I was when we arrived, so I told him I see my oncologist at the Christie in 6 weeks and my local oncologist in November, so I will know then. He was rather dropped on. "Too much information", said Graham, sagely. I thought he kept asking me because he's been reading this blog - and he hadn't. He was just repeatedly asking me. Oh well, now he knows. We were all set up and ready to start a little after 7pm. Not a great turn-out of musicians but a couple of welcome new faces. We always have a good time. Someone else thought it funny that I was sitting down a bit while playing during the jam night and ribbed me about it slightly. The alternative was going for a kip in my car, as I was getting really tired.. I gently disabused him of the notion that I was just resting my backside, by quietly saying I've just had treatment at Christies and I'm worn out. It has a noticeable shock value, which wasn't actually my intention. I have no problems with people knowing my condition. The problem is that I look fairly all right, even though I am not. And standing up playing bass for three and a half hours is a bit of an ask at the moment. I got through the jam night and was honestly overjoyed to get myself home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 5th:
Awake before my alarm again. Surrounded by cats and feeling quite like I've got hay fever. Runny nose, itchy throat. My mate Mark in Liverpool has got covid again, which isn't good. At least the vaccines are doing their bit, though we're surely due some further boosters at some point?

My mate Dave is fighting sepsis now and is having a blood transfusion today. How much more can be thrown at him?

I did some artwork alterations for labels and a sleeve for a very short-run demo 7" vinyl project that is ready to roll. Contains unreleased content. Quite pleased with it. I have submitted the sound files and labels for pressing, which is going to be subject to a slight delay. I'm also obtaining a quote for picture sleeves.

Being in a 'doing things' mode, I also get out the workmate and jig-saw and extension cable and proceed to install the new fence panels to replace the old unslightly rotten wood ones.I did a nice job, though I have said it myself. I am going to take the old ones to the tip, as the man over the fence might just try to re-use them.

We take the dogs for a walk and I get some shots of the progress of the demolition of the mill.

The evening is a lot of TV. My writing partner Chris was on a radio show tonight being interviewed. I took part in the online chat box. I also make a mental note that I don't ever want to go on a radio show, talking. I can't stand the sound of my own speaking voice. (Rubbish! I hear you cry). Lynda went to bed at about midnight, then I watched Question Time from last Thursday. Marvin came to lie on my knee. He sounds very snuffly and wheezy again. To bed much too late.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 6th:
Awake fairly early. I unpacked the car from the weekend's gigging, gathered a load of stuff together to take to the tip. I went into town early to get that done  - with no moaning from the staff at the tip for a change - and to pick up a few urgent items from Sainsburys.... I called into Wilkos and got some cable ties and batteries. I don't really visit Bolton Town centre as much as I used to and hardly every walk around it like I have today. There are lots of people ouitside of shops, at traffic lights and on street corners holding out paper cups for money.and it's just depressing.

I also went to meet Mike. I met him outside the new Bolton office building on Bark St in the town centre.We went into The Vaults, which was the cellar of Bolton Market Hall until they ruined it by taking out all of the stalls and putting chain stores in. That ripped the heart out Bolton and ruined a number of small traders..I have never spent money in there since they did that. However, buying a beer at a bar in thr new cellar complex is different. They have a Nandos, too.

A nice convivial atmosphere, compared to Wetherspoons and closer to the new office (which is inconveniently sited for absoluitely EVERYTHING). Parking near it is a nightmare. Afterwards, I called into the Natwest to deposit about £400 and the cash machine didn't want to take my money. There was a big queue, so it's a good job my wallet is on a chain inside my jacket.

Back home and I applied the cable ties to fixing the faux bush to our side gates. Sounds stupid / looks great. I had a chat with Chris about the singles.we are having pressed up and I ordered and paid for the picture sleeves we are having done for them. We also discussed a couple of new book ideas which sound good.

In the evening we watched Person Of Interest, For Her Sins, amongst other things. Marvin sounds (and looks) a bit rough again, so it's going to be back to the vet for him tomorrow.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 7th:
Up and off to the Vet with Marvin. Two more injections and see how he's doing in a week. So it's a good job the bank didn't want my money yesterday. The Vet did.

Some book work. I did a small re-work on the demo single sleeve, as requested by the printers. Their template is NOT very good for finding the centre fold line. They sent me a revised template and it's looking good.

Tom and Oscar got taken out for a walk.

In the Ukraine, they are up in arms because Russia have destroyed one of their dams and have flooded a really large area. I am of course on Ukraine's side in all this. They now need to get on the offensive and damage something equally valuable of Russia's. Russia have made a spectacularly evil tactical move (and have publicly blamed Ukraine for it, obviously thinking the rest of the world is as stupid as they are) and Ukraine now need to make an equal response. I am just worried that at some point Putin will say that this is all getting rather expensive and resort to the use of biological weapons and render Ukraine not worth winning.

I'm REALLY tired today. It was nice going out in the warm sun walking the dogs earlier, but I just feel like a couple of hours sleep now. The band aren't playing on some Fridays this month and I'm a bit relieved to be honest.

I fell asleep on the sofa in the early evening and woke up to Mastechef on TV. I don't mind that show at all. I wish I was some use in the kitchen instead of 'in the way'. I used to do a small amount of cooking but my involvement now, unless Lynda is incapacitated, consists of an eating role.

A message from Saturday's venue. There's football on with an 8pm kick-off, so I'll get there early to get the gear in place. At least they have warned us. Going on after football means the a lot of crowd will drift off when we start playing and the music crowd may not come in for a 10pm start. Oh well...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 8th and 9th:
I spent an amount of the 8th either lying down or asleep. It was a day of relaxing and trying not to do very much. I was very conscious that hay fever means that I have a runny nose and tickly throat and so I am again in no position to safely go visit Dave Disley in hospital. I'm hoping it's just hay fever and that it will go away. I seem to have a cold most of the time. They have cut the grass on the nearby park, so the pollen in the air is ridiculous and I have little tolerance for it. I'm taking antihistomines, but I wake up with the blocked nose and tickly throat, so it's possibly just a bit late to go at the remedies by then...

Up at around 10am today. I've gone into the studio room to catch up on my blog. I didn't feel much like doing any book work today at all. I'm determined that I will try to get a good amount of work done towards finishing off the first 'Slade On 45' book, next week from emails of images I have been sent. I've done a bit today and the page count has shot up.

Tesco in Walkden were graced with our presence today and they took a lot of our money. I did some book work for a while and spent a while in the bath, reading the Slade in the 1970's 'Decades' book. There are some slight minor errors in it, which I would have thought the team of proof readers would have noticed, but on the whole it's a slim, workman-like volume which covers that period of time adequately.

Mary has started going into the garden a bit and has ventured over the fence to next door. This had me panicking. OK she's a cat and she can find her way back from next door's garden (and she did), but I don't want her getting lost.

Our evening gig was near Rochdale. We played fairly well to a crowd who, to be honest, couldn't have cared less about any band that was playing. They would probably have ignored Queen if they'd been on there with their full lighting rig. They were there to be out drinking with their friends and that's absolutely fine. You can't win 'em all. We had a really nice attentive crowd last time we played at the venue, but some gigs turn into perfunctory run-throughs. Tonight's was one of those and I regretted being there for most of the evening, as I felt really dog-tired and rough for most of it and I constantly watched the clock and the time just did not pass quickly enough. I'd forgotten my guitar rack stand, as I'd done a quick repair to it ealier, so I just got one bass out and positioned it very carefully next to my rig when not in use. I called at a garage on the way home and stocked up on crisps for the trip back. That was the highlight of the evening. The trip home was not helped by the M62 being closed in the Westbound direction that I was heading in. I drove on side roads to Heywood and rejoined the M62 there. Home at a reasonable time. Bed.

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here.
All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 10th:
Up at about 10 am. Awake much earlier. I still felt quite rubbish this morning. I read, watched TV and did as little as possible as I could during the day. It was simply scorchio and Lynda said the dogs could wait until it colled down in the evening to get walked because of that.

The evening's gig was after the football, which meant me setting off quite early to get to Hindley. I loaded in and got set up. We had a good space, lights in place and there was going to be a decent crowd if we could keep them. Graham arrived and I helped him in with his gear. Ian (our guitarist) arrived around half time,as there was no point in trying to wander through a huge crowd with gear while the game was on and the weather broke as he arrived and he got rained on. We watched the game in a sort of desultory fashion. None of the band give the remotest toss about football, though when Manchester City beat Inter Milan 1-0, everybody in the pub was happy. We kicked off straight after the football and kept most of the crowd in. We went down like heroes. This quite often happens when we're new to a venue and nobody knows what to expect. We stuck Cum On Feel The Noize in for the solitary other Slade fan in the place. It was great to see some of our friends turn up to watch us. A very good gig and I was home for 1am. Bed for around 2am.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 11th:
Awake at around 8.40am. I dithered about getting out of bed. I checked the internet for insults and such and wandered downstairs to make a coffee at 10am. It was too hot to stay outside, or to walk the dogs. Various pets lay in various amounts of shade. Lynda went for a lie down. I watched some YouTube stuff on TV and fell asleep for a while.

The afternoon was spent messing on the computer or watching TV. Lynda was in no mood for the day andonly appreared when it was time for me to eat before going out. She has things on her mind at the moment and I know to leave her alone. Howver, that is no help to her and she gets irritable when she's stressed and that's most of the time at present.

I left at 6pm and loaded in at the jam venue for 6.15pm. We started at 7pm. A thin turn-out, due to the weather, as I was expecting, but the right people, good friends of ours, turned up. I got a break from playing bass after 90 minutes, as some people remarked on later. It was good to catch up and play with our reserve drummer Ryan and compare surgeries and hospital experiences. We mixed the setlist for the jam night up a bit - we usually play some stuff we don't normally touch that often, to keep our hand in with it. There was a notion put forward that some of the songs are 'only jam night songs'. I don't learn stuff to do with the band just at jam nights unless it is to back one of the punters. I treat the songs we don't do regularly as equally important to the songs in our normal set and we should be able to get them in there. Some stuff was played really well - but some of it that we don't play much needs a little work to get it up to standard again. I am suggesting shaking up the setlist a little.

I got home and Mary - who is very new to leaving the house - was over the fence and on next door's shed looking at me insolently. I am not going to worry myself to a frazzle over her. I love her dearly, but she makes her own choices and I'm sure she'll come back soon enough. I need to go to bed, rather than stress over cats. Bed just after 2am. Mary was in the bedroom, trying to sleep on my arm.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 12th:
Up late. I did make a quite early start at around 8am to visit the bathroom, but I just went back to bed (I can't run on 6 hours sleep) and stayed there, after killing my alarm. It's blazingly hot outside. Mary is taking advantage of this and going exploring. I've called her quietly and she's either ignored me quietly or just can't hear me. I've got a nagging theory that she's not dead keen on the other cats.

Lynda said at one point that she was out and about first thing this morning. I called her a few times during the day and got no response whatsoever, but I know it was so hot that she probably just found a cool place and retired there to stay cool and totally ignored me. Cats are like that. You can be frantic and they don't care a fig about that. At 5pm, I looked up from my extended burst of book work, sat by the computer with a cool fan aimed at me, and saw her in the corner of our back garden. What a relief. I said hello to her and she shortly afterwards popped over the new bit of fence into our neighbour's garden and stared at me insolently from under a garden chair while I stood getting wet in a short shower. She will reappear when she wants food.

Which was at about 6pm.

Lynda gave me my evening meal and then went to bed. She's more than a bit down at present, due to some family issues that are not resolving themselves and which may not get sorted. All rather sad and needless. I listened to the Tim Daines Slade internet radio show from 8 til 9 and Jim Lea's edited pre-recorded interview. People reacted very well to his radio appearance and thought it was a live call. All good PR. He neatly side-stepped a bunch of questions. An experienced pro.

I turned a band work offer away as it would have meant a 13 hour day (three sets at the first gig, followed by 2 one hour sets in the evening) on a weekend. I'm just not physically capable of that at present. We have a few Fridays off and I am rejoicing, as I have never ever in my life been so tired as I am now.

I spent the evening on the PC doing more book work on SLADE ON 45 VOL 1. It's as near as damnit done now and I am consulting my contributors to see what it needs adding or subtracting or correcting efore publishing at the end of the month. It's now approaching midnight and I'm absolutely bushed. It's still really hot and sticky. Bedtime came a bit early for me.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 13th:
Up and about at 6.40am, as Mary was meowing at me to let her do the cute thing  and let her come and lie on my outsretched arm. After a quick bathroom visit,I let her have her evil way with my arm and went back to sleep for a while, while she purred away to herself. A few snoozes of the alarm after it went off and I got up. A little image work in photoshop and then out to meet Mike and Steve in Bolton for a quick drink at Great Ales, down in The Vaults..

The weather is absolutely horrifically hot, so I resorted to wearing shorts and a white t-shirt. Lynda complained about my summery attire when I got home, saying she would have made me get dressed before I went out. I'm absolutely dying here in this heat and she'd have me go out dressed in even hotter clothing? I really feel like being sedated and kept under until it cools down. I'm not at all good with these temperatures. The cats hate it. Lynda hates it.

Took 3 dates for a venue in Leigh for next year. Jan, June, October.

I also spoke to Chris about a record project that we are part way through. I did some accounting work on that and sent Chris the spreadsheet.

Lynda spent most of the day lying down as she spent a couple of days now and it is because of the family problem has now been dragging on for a year now and which plays on her mind a hell of a lot. I am rather saddened by it all and mostly am blazingly angry at the needlessness of it all and the extreme effect it is having on her. Lynda is utterly crushed. She asks how I would cope if it were me who was being treated like this. I have said many times that I simply can't begin to even contemplate how I would cope with it. She's not coping, just like I probably wouldn't cope.

I spent the evening watching a couple of things I have recorded for myself. No point in watching TV we normally watch together.

I haven't seen Marvin since early yesterday and I am worried, though Lynda says he was at home and that he had his breakfast this morning. I've walked around and shouted for him but to no avail. He's usually quite good at coming if I shout.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 14th:
I went looking for Marvin this morning and nearly killed myself, climbing around the back of our neighbour's rickety old shed, which is worryingly propped up by a piece of wood on one side. I don't know why he doesn't empty it and get rid. maybe opening the front door would cause it to fall apart? No sign of Marvin there, but as I left the house, I saw him curled up in the shade in the front garden and brought him home. He had a bit of food and drank a hell fo a lot of water and went off for a sulk in the shade in our back garden.

After several months of being afraid of the outdoors, Mary has taken to going over the back garden fence and finding a shady spot in a neighbour's garden. We've been in a blind panic about this as she's a tiny bit flat-footed, but she comes back, so we are relaxing a little bit.

I walked down into Farnworth to see my mate John and once again, he wasn't answering his door. He keeps really really stupid hours. No answer to my phone calls. A neighbour pulled up in his car. He's in hospital for a short while and he hasn't been at all well. That explains a lot. I rang the hospital and got details of which ward he is on and the visiting times.

Late on, I started some book work, as I was in the mood for it - mainly sorting some images of discs and labels and titling the images so I could make sesnse of what I have. That went on past 2am. Stupid me.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 15th:
Marvin is doing his best 'how not to be seen' thing this morning (missing breakfast - and he is very much a mog who LIKES to eat) and after getting up late, I went straight out to have a look for him. No sign. It's absolutely scorching out there. He will be snoozing in the shade somewhere, secure in the knowledge that I won't find him.

I got an email from a friend, commenting on recent entries from this blog. It's really nice to get some feedback. I thought that I was the only one who was actually reading it. Maybe there's only two of us.

I did a lot of book work today 4 new book covers for a set of limited reissues in November. How disciplined am I ?!

Graham sent me a message with a post with someone looking for a band to do a daytime gig on a coming Saturday. I sank at the thought of it, but dutifully chased it up. It didn't come off, but the venue want to keep in touch.

At about 2.30pm, I went out and had a look for Marvin again. He was in our neighbour's front garden (where I looked earlier) lay under a bush and I brought him home, which he was far from happy about. He's drinking some water, but he's right off his food and looking a bit thin. He's probably about 15 years old now. It's worrying. We're going to try to keep him in look after him and tonight's meal out with some of our friends has unfortunately had to be postponed. We will try again next week.

I put some dates for next year to a venue in Southport. 3.25pm. I feel like I need an hour's sleep.

I spent a lot of time sat with Marvin lying next to me while we watched a whole bunch of episodes of Classic Coronation Street, an episode of Person Of Interest and the fisrt episode a series called The Detail, with Angela Griffin with an American accent.. He's very lethargic, not interested in food.

Bed very late again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 16th:
Up before 10am. Knackered. Marvin was kept in all night. The story with him today is that he is not interested in eating at all. I went to Tesco and got him some chicken, amongst the mound of shopping I picked up. He sniffed it and turned away from it. We are beginning to really fear the worst for him. He went off upstairs later on in the day and went onto the landing and crashed out there. It's cool and away from everyone. He has a litter tray. We can keep a quiet eye on him. When we went to the vet with him the other day, the vet said that his kidneys felt extremely large. Lynda's still not eating much either and I am fed up of trying to make her eat. She will eat when she wants to, or not.  I went to the chippy to save her the effort of just cooking for me.

Plans to go and see our friend John in hospital have been dropped as Lynda's not feeling well, either.

So I went into the Bridgewater in Farnworth for a quiet pint earlier. People are not allowed to use any sort of digital device, as the landlord has made a rule there about them. They are silent and don't disturb anyone. He could maybe do with a rule about the landlady and her mates not having a prolonged shouting competition which actually drove me out of the pub. I bought a paper so as to sit down quietly with a good pint, then go home. I walked out fuming.

An agent we are loosely associated with put the call out for people to send their diaries in with their free dates. We are only associated with her in any way because we covered for another group at a venue she controls in July last year and tore the place apart - the Concert Secretary there said the agent would get us loads of work. So, we paid her commission for that gig, though the band we replaced had a direct booking with the venue, so she wasn't actually entitled to anything at all from us. We only paid it to get in with the agent and to get some more work. So far we have had absolutely nothing at all. Nothing. I sent our free dates in to her. Let's see what happens.

I watched last night's Question Time and it was well worth sitting through. There appears to be little or no support for Boris Johnson, except from the usual not-rights. He's cutting a rather Trump-esque figure these days. Little credibility, a sort of entitlement to behave badly and to expect no come-uppance.

Marvin's on the landing still, as I go to bed very late on. Today's just been an odd and not very good day and I don't feel like writing a lot about it. Sorry.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 17th:
Awake at around 8am. I feel that tired-sort-of-sick feeling this morning. I went out on to the landing and Marvin had hardly moved all night. He got up and used the litter tray, cried a little bit, then went off to try for a sleep in a cat bed under the window. Lynda tried to interest him in a yoghurt and some chicken, but he's had enough of food. He stomped off into the back bedroom. I think everywhere is too warm for him at the moment. It's desperately sad. I ended up going back to bed for a while. He spent most of the day finding cool places to lie down. He's refusing any food and water. I fell asleep for a while, while watching TV in the afternoon. I talked to Lynda about taking Tom to the vet. The problem with that is that there is only one thing they are going to do, which is 'put him to sleep'. A nice way of saying killing him. Neither of us subscribe to that idea, though if Tom gets into real discomfort, then we know we are maybe going to have to revisit the idea.

With all this going on, the last thing I wanted to do was to go out and do a gig. Telling the guys in the band and also the venue that I don't want to play tonight isn't really an option. The venue won't keep the punters in who would be expecting a band, and me being at home is not going to change things. It did take my mind off the situation, though I did end up talking to Jan, our guitar player Ian's girlfriend, about Marvin. Playing was a relief from thinking about it all. We played well to a decent but not massive crowd until just before 11.30pm. At the end of the last song, a guy felt he had to come onstage and stand right in front of our drummer, Graham. The stage invader totally buggered up the big ending that we do on Rockin' all over the world, as we couldn't see each other. What did he want? He felt the need to tell us that our second spot needed some Genesis in it. I felt the need to boot him off the stage, but IT'S NICE TO BE NICE, so I just said they are a band we don't really cover with a forced smile. We arranged that I would send the venue 4 dates for next year, as the band diary is moving along a little now. We are paid by bank transfer by the venue's chain, so I paid the guys in cash, rather than making them wait for it, and I will just keep the bank transfer when it arrives.

We broke the gear down quickly and I left the venue at about midnight and came back via the M61, getting home about about 12.45. It started to rain in a much-needed but maybe slightly over the top absolute Biblical downpour shortly after my return. I did a quick thank you post to the venue after our gig there. The job doesn't stop for me when the gig is done. Lynda looked just about done in. I said I'd sleep in the front room downstairs with Marvin, who'd gone into a corner away from the other cats. I watched a recent short Paul McCartney interview with Conan O'Brien on YouTube and then switched everything off.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 18th:
I woke up from a useless and pretty disturbed sleep a bit after 7am and Marvin was lying next to the sofa. He gave a little cry as he lay down. I stroked him a while and told him quietly what a good boy he is, over and over again. Lynda came down and told me to go back to bed for a while. She's not looking very good, either. I made sure she had taken her heart medication this morning, as I don't want to be taking her to the hospital today. She has to look after herself, too. I fed the cats and dogs then I went back upstairs and couldn't go back to sleep. I came down again a little before 9am and tried to face the day again. I got Marvin on the sofa with me, but he went and got in a cat bed, raised up near the window, off to the left of the sofa and he lay down there. When he first moved in with us, ten whole years ago, he came in through the window and went to sleep on a cat bed that was just there. Lynda saw I was still dropping and told me I should go back to bed. A bit after 11, I came down to face the world again and make myself a coffee. Marvin keeps moving around the house downstairs. All exits are blocked. He IS NOT going outside. The catio is available.

Rachel messaged me to say happy father's day and to invite us round to see the new cats at her house, so I video-called her back. I had to break it to her that Marvin is so unwell. It was very hard to get the words out to her, as she is very attached to Marvin and to Smudge. I was sorry to ruin her day. It wasn't much of a chat, as I was just upset. Paul is down in Weymouth this weekend. We will try to get round to Rachel's house later in the week.

I came upstairs to write this blog and send 4 dates to last night's venue. Lynda brought me a sandwich that I feel almost too upset to eat, which Tom doesn't have any qualms about, thanks to his irrational but understandable residual food anxiety from before he was rescued, every mouthful I take is a complete and utter betrayal to him. He gets a last piece, as usual.

It's not as hot as it has been, so the dogs got a walk. Marvin spent some of the day safely asleep in the catio. I brought him into the front room later on in the afternoon and cleaned him up a little, just before another downpour started, so fortunately he didn't get wet from that. He's doing a couple of steps and falling over, which is heartbreaking.

The evening's jam night was just an ordeal for me. With all that's going on, I didn't even feel at all like going out, I just wanted to be at home, but I had no choice. It threw it down Biblically again as I drove to the venue. I was soaked as I loaded in. I was told that a fellow bassist who attended the jam night until recently has passed away from osophagal cancer after a very short fight with the illness. I was utterly dropped on. I spoke to some of our friends and the mood was just flat.

Then we had some severe gremlins with the PA, which nobody else gets involved with, so anything that happens is obviously my fault. First of all, one side of the PA wasn't putting anything out. An output jack connection problem at the mixing desk. A quick cable wiggle sorted it out - that was partly because the desk is raised so that other people can get to it and the cables drag downwards - it will need some contact cleaner. After a good few years, the desk needs some actual maintainance. It's not mine.

The set-up and breakdown at the jam night are the hardest that I do. I have taken too much of the set-up work on. We now have half an hour less to set up in than we did before and I am just stressed out every week. It was bad enough when I was getting there half an hour earlier. We have little or no chance of being ready to start on time and I run round like a mad thing from the second I arrive to get things in place right up to the last second before we start. I don't get the chance to sit down and chat with people, or to get my fingers ready to play by warming up on my instrument. Sometimes the band are ready to kick off the first spot and I haven't even had a chance to tune up. Sometimes I haven't even had time to get my basses out of their gig bags.

We played our opening spot and playing-wise, a lot of it was rather uncomfortable for me. Then we had some microphone trouble and anything that was wrong was my fault. There was some uncalled-for sniping. Some people are just rude. I counted to ten thousand to start to calm myself down. The process might be complete by next weekend. We are not out next Friday, fortunately. Definitely.

Next month and in August we have some afternoon stuff booked and then we have to do full gigs in the evening and I am just dreading some of those days. At least at a couple of them, we don't have to provide a PA system. I was happy enough when we took them,. but that was before my treatment. Next year I intend to reduce my working hours. I work far far far too hard at gigs and on the never-ending and awful band admin and I've decided that from my birthday next year things will slow down a little bit. My birthday present to myself will be that I'm going to do what I enjoy and not do what I don't. We've been doing the jam night at this venue nearly every Sunday since August 2016. I started with the jam night band on May 10th 2015. I deserve a break.

Home. Marvin is still with us and in a terrible state. I had a couple of beers and updated the blog. Marvin is going to sleep in the bedroom in a cat pen. He's not happy about this.

Bed at around 2am. Back up at 3am to do a couple of things..

The radiotherapy blog will probably continue until I have seen my Consultant at the Christie, which should be in a few weeks. I keep a blog anyway, as a sort of online diary, but I am writing in much more detail while the blog is for this particular purpose.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 19th:
I woke up at 7am and managed to get the odd fragment of sleep, before waking properly at 10am. Marvin is still in the pen next to our bed and giving the occasional meow to let us know he is there. He's still refusing food and drink and it's oppressively hot again today. I feel so sorry for him.

I pop out to post a CD and single (a competition prize on the forum) to Northern Ireland and get some bread and milk. I also trekked into Walkden to buy a cat carrier.

It's chucking it down again  - an appropriately miserable day - as we have a vets appointment booked for 2.30pm - if Marvin makes it until then. Lynda agrees that Marvin simply can't keep going through this. It is just not fair to him. He will have been with us 10 years this July 1st. We love him dearly. He is our little stray and it feels like a total and utter betrayal to take him to the vet, but he is suffering now and we can't bear that. Sad does not begin to cover it. I don't think there is any 'better place' than with us, but he won't be suffering.

I put Marvin in the new cat basket and was ready to take him, when Lynda came into the back room looking shaken. She'd slipped and had a fall outside. I took her upstairs and got her clothes changed. Though she was in pain from the fall, she wasn't going to miss saying goodbye to Marvin. We got into the car and Marvin protested  a little at being in the car - he's never liked going to the vets. We were a couple of minutes late at the vets and they ushered us straight through. He was taken away for a moment or two to have a cannula put in his paw, then he came back and we said our goodbyes to him, with him cradled safely in my arms. It's not what I would have wanted for him at all, but there was no avoiding it with how seriously ill he was. We came home with an empty cat basket and a feeling that at least he wasn't suffering anymore. We did the right thing for him.

I was quite exhausted by all of this and fell asleep on the sofa and missed an entire episode of Person Of Interest. We watched 3 episodes of Litvinenko, which is a gripping true story of a political assassination in 2006 in London. Great to see the exceptional Joanna Kanska pop up in the drama.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 20th:
A bit of a non-day, as far as writing about it goes. Book work. Mike's away, so I didn't go to meet him. I'm concerned about Smudge. She went into a very low way when we lost Dini 10 years ago. Now we have lost Marvin, she's very angsty again and is not coming in the house. It's like she is blaming us for all of this. I am not feeling too terrible about Marvin, as I am relieved that the visible suffering that he was going through is done with. The dogs got a walk and Tom kicked off at someone else's dog, which was doing nothing to him. He loses it sometimes for no apparent reason - maybe just Oscar being friendly to other dogs, he just goes up and wags his tail at them. - which is why Tom never ever goes off a lead. We watched the last episode of Litvenenko later on. Another good reason for the West to utterly hate Putin, I suppose. You can't send that kind of weapon (which left a clear trail from Russia, right to the venue where it was administered) and get away with it. I caught up the episode of Person Of Interest that I had missed. Lynda sportingly sat through it again. A bunch of Mafia-type gang bosses got wiped out. A good watch. There's quite often a twist in these tales.

There's not a twist anywhere in Coronation St at the moment. Straightforward misery all around. Paul is away on holiday, taking his degenerative Motor Neurone Disease, with him, which is a relief to me. That's an emotionally exhausting plotline for me. Sarah needs someone wise to forgive her sins. I will take her confession. The 'whole Daisy catfish thing' is just about blowing up too. The 'whole who will Stephen murder next thing' is getting rather long and drawn out at the moment. The writers need to walk him under a car. Coronation St is very moral and the bad guy never wins.

Bed at 2am, as I went upstairs to edit a book and lost track of time completely.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 21st:
I woke up a bit after 10, having defeated my alarm earlier on, and checked my phone. There was a message, simply saying I had not sent a small promo photo to someone. The emphasis seemed to be on what I was not doing. It must have been mentioned to me over the weekend. My mind was elsewhere, or I was busy doing something else, obviously. I got out of bed and sent three photos - via messenger as a reply and also to a Facebook timeline, so he has a chance of finding them. I then did the Twitter for the coming weekend's gigs and the Facebook posts in a few groups. Bloody admin work.

I tried contacting my mate's Dave's wife by text message about taking her to see him in hospital. No response. More book work. I was happily interrupted by the arrival of my son Paul. It was lovely to spend a few hours catching up with him.

My old Windows 10 Acer PC needs to be disposed of. I had a think about it and took the 16GB of RAM out of it. I also pulled the old hard drive out and found it was a whopping 3TB. I couldn't get it to erase or reformat, because of the issues affecting the computer, so I have ordered a caddy for it, so I can use it as an external drive with the new PC and simply wipe the content.

Some TV in the evening. I did some work on the final edition of THE NOIZE. It won't be out for another two years, but it's an idea to do the work as things go along and become apparent for inclusion, rather than a mass messy catch-up in a rush before publishing. Bed at around 2am.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 22nd:
Awake before 9am and then up and about. Exhausted. Fed the cats and dogs. Lynda has a phone chat booked with the GP Surgery about her medication. I am very wary of them trying to reduce it without her heart specialist being involved. That is what some pharmacists actually do in order to save their practice money. Lynda dealt with it. She usually hates talking to our GP, but as I was getting rather annoyed about this, she took the call and told them where she is up to with everything.

I'm on the verge of ringing to see when my appointment at the Christie will be. I was told six weeks or thereabouts, so I should be hearing something about now.... but it's only been four weeks since I had my radiotherapy, so ringing the hotline to chase them up seems a bit hasty at present. That's primarily meant for side-effects and issues after radiotherapy, so I don't really want to take up their time, when they could be talking to someone who really needs them urgently. I will give it another week or so. They are usually on the money when it comes to their admin, so I should really give them the chance to do it, rather than chase them up and waste their time. I imagine it's going to involve further scans and PSA tests, so I am sure they will get everything scheduled shortly. It's just the waiting to hear from them that is a bit of a bugger. I want some good news for a change.

Still no reply from my mate's wife.about going to visit him. I'm not going to go knocking on her door. That would be a bit of an intrusion. A lovely sunny day. We went to get some shopping and fill the car up.

The 7" vinyl discs have landed with Chris. They look pretty good.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 23rd:
I got a reply from my mate's wife - She's had pneumonia and hasn't been to see him for two weeks. I said I will go with her next Thursday. Smudge is still sulking and avoiding us since Marvin went out of her life. She was never the same cat after we lost Dini ten years ago. She's a little old lady now and I don't want her mad with us. Out in the evening to The Achari for a curry with Ken and Maureen. A lovely evening, though I was drooping after three hours. Bed slightly earlier than usual for once.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 24th:
Up late, feeling quite rough. I went to get some keys cut and the local place is shut on Saturdays. I spent quite some time in a darkened studio room, doing more work on a book cover. I tried an experiment in Photoshop to get some spiral text onto the rear and it didn't come out at all how I wanted it, so I have dumped the spiral idea for now. Sometimes good ideas are best left for a while. Another attempt often gets a much better result. Currently listeing to the 2009 Deluxe edition of Quartet by Ultravox. The SuperDeluxe edition box set (due 7/7) ships shortly. I hope I live long enough to see the inevitable SuperDuperExtraSpecialVeryDeluxeDeluxe edition!

Our evening gig in Bolton went quite well. Except for the heat. After loading in, I was dripping wet. I was also at some point way beyond tired out. Fortunately, my fan worked quite nicely. Nice to see a few friends I hadn't seen for a good while. I nipped across at half time to the Man And Scythe and Kevin Bates (the singer / guitarist from my first band) was playing there with TVOD. It was nice to catch up with him briefly. The DJ was quite keen on keeping us to playing our two 45 minute slots. We were quite keen to play our sets. He messed us up at one point at the end of our second slot. We were playing Shangalang, which usually segues into Tell Him. He walked in front of us and held up one finger - one more song - so we stopped at the end of that and did our regular finisher, Rocking all over the world instead. Then he said his gear wasn't ready, did the crowd want one more? We'd just done our big finish, so we played Tell Him. We will be back there next year. If there's a DJ on with us, we will have to show him our set, so he doesn't bugger us up like that again  We were off just after 11.30pm. Home for 12.30am. Lynda was quite surprised.

I remembered to check to see if we had been paid for last week's gig near Blackburn. The venue have to go through some website or other to pay us now. I checked my bank. Nothing. I looked at the emails I've been sent by the website that's supposed to pay us. I couldn't log in. The venue set us up with them and i don't have the details. I messaged the venue manager, saying I don't want this hassle every time we play there. Bed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 25th:
Up and about at 10am. Smudge has been hanging around sulking on the catio roof since we lost Marvin, sulking at us as if we are personally and deliberately responsible. She doesn't understand what has happened. She was in the kitchen, so I gave her some mog milk and fussed her a little. We have to get her back onside.

The venue manager from last week was absolutely aghast that we haven't been paid yet and is contacting the people who are supposed to pay us on Monday morning. It's horribly hot again. Brilliant to read that Rod Stewart has been given the all-clear after his experience with prostate cancer. That goes to show that getting tested early sometimes makes a real difference.

I did some band admin work. Graham told me about a site that advertises gigs that he's registered on. I have never heard of it, but I registered us on it and set up a banner and profile image and posted one of our gigs. I also shared our posters for July.

I took the dogs for a walk and the Boar's head in Leigh, where we are booked in at next month rang me to cancel us. I was not happy about this. The owners have told the manager there is no compensation due to us. He's between a rock and a hard place. A friend says other bands have been messed around there. The Laser Monkeys pulled their remaining gigs at the same venue and they won't be going back and I strongly suspect that we won't either. I don't mess up our diary and I don't know how some places manage to do it either. It's not fair to drop a band because you end up with a wedding booking afterwards. It's just called sh***ing on people. Bands won't want to play there.

The jam night was good. We had some new people come down  - the Euphoria Duo and they were staggeringly good. I haven't managed to get up on guitar for a while now.

While that was going on, Elton John smashed it at Glastonbury. I downloaded it. I may end up burning it to DVD. We'll see.

I did some band admin involving a foreign gig listing website that graham has asked me to do something on - allevents.in which seems next to useless as nobody knows about it or looks at it or uses it and listened to some music til very late, while wrangling with it. Bed very very late.

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here.
All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.
If you've only just joined in reading this blog, you can scroll up the page to find out more about cats and radiation and stuff.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 26th:
Awake at 9am. Up at 10am. Tired out. I've got my Covid booster today. I don't think Lynda will be asking for this one as the last one made her really ill. I also have to go to get some keys cut. Another nice, sunny day. Some cloud hanging about. I went to see my friend John in the Royal Manchester Hospital - calling in at the PMT guitar shop in Salford for a quick and pointless browse on the way.. He's been seriously ill and I had no idea until last week. I was there a little after 2pm and only got home after 6pm because of traffic and a quick stop at Tesco. I was exhausted and started falling asleep on the sofa at about 8pm. Lynda said I should give up and go to bed. And that was me for the evening.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 27th:
I think this Covid jab has floored me. Awake and up shortly after 9am. Back in bed at 10am until 1.30pm. I was a bit lifeless during the day and made the mistake of lying down on the sofa. I slept again from about 3.30pm til about 7pm. I felt just wiped out in the evening, so it was just lying around watching TV - Yellowjackets, Person Of Interest, The Detail among them, I was in bed at 12 and after a short read, I slept like a rock/

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 28th:
I woke up some time around 10am. There was a message to say that we are going to be paid by close of play on Friday for the gig we did the other weekend. I asked how we are going to deal with this going forward? I have no access to the site that pays us and that's no use to me, especially if they want to offer us more gigs. A gig on November 17th at Bolton Old Links Golf Club was cancelled. At least we got some decent notice on that one.

The vets rang. I can collect Marvin's ashes today. Smudge came in the house an amount yesterday, which is a change from the sulking she's been doing. This morning she's on next door's shed and ignoring me when I offer her some mog milk, which she adores. I hate to see her annoyed and upset like this. Edward appears to be taking over as The Mog Man Of The House. he's spending a bit of time with Smudge at the moment. He really is a little chap.

Smudge did a vanishing trick later on in the day. I was shouting her during the evening and was still at it at 2am with no luck and was getting rather worried.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 29th:
I woke up at around 9am and quickly pulled myself together. I was still rather anxious about Smudge and went into the back garden and shouted for Smudge. A small cry came from over the fence, from next door's back garden. I went and knocked on at their front door to ask if I could go round the back and retrieve Smudge. The lady, who speaks very little English, said her husband was out and had the gate key. I could come back later. I said I wanted to get my cat safe now. She had a look but couldn't see her. I climbed over the gate and landed badly on my knees on the other side. Ow. I didn't care about that. Behind their shed is a load of rotting wood that is going to take their fence with it. No sign of Smudge. Bob the Builder didn't clear his mess up when he added the UPVC. No sign of Smudge - she was in the shed with the catch shut. I got her out and put her over the fence into our back garden. The lady said the shed door must have blown shut in the wind. That doesn't explain the catch being on, but never mind. Once in our back garden, Smudge immediately dug a hole and performed whatever ablutions. Then I called her in for mog milk and food. Lynda is talking about keeping her in awhile. Good luck with that.

And less than half an hour later, she was out again and back over the fence. Oh well. She seems to be more keen on coming in the house now, though.

I went to see my mate Dave in hospital in Oldham, with his wife, Sue. He's had a temporary voice box fitted this morning, so I've heard his voice for the first time in about a year. I thought he might sound like Robert The Robot, but the tech has moved on a bit. The talking is tiring him out and he's having to learn to talk again to a degree. But I thought he's doing remarkably well. We would have heard him speak a lot sooner if the speech therapist at Salford had done her job at all. It was good to be able to hold a conversation without guessing what he was saying and Dave getting frustrated. Various other essential procedures (including therapy for his missing swallow reflex) were left undone at Salford and it just sounds like severe incompetence, bordering on neglect to me. Dave is currently under the care of the top speech therapy team in the country, which is a leap forward.

Another venue cancelled a gig in August today because of their budget. No point in arguing wth them, as we have to work with them.

I fell asleep after my evening meal. Exhausted again. Lynda went to bed and I watched Question Time then did some (almost) final editing on a book. Smudge being stobbornly invisible overnight again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

June 30th:
Up very late. Dog tired. Smudge was in for her breakfast, though I missed seeing her. I did see her during the day, though. It chucked it down and she found somewhere else dry to be. She is sulking to an Olympic standard. I was looking through some folders at old photos and found some beautiful photos of her with Marvin from 2014. She is simply devastated by him not being here and needs to blame someone.

As it was chucking it down all day, I am quite worried about what it's going to be like when we play at the event in Atherton tomorrow afternoon. Very worried. Very very worried.

TV in the evening and I only fell asleep a little bit. A bit more book work before bed. We just need to get approval on a couple of things and then we can publish the Slade 'Did You See Us?' book.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 1st:
If you're wondering how long this blog will go on for, it will continue until I have seen my Consultant at the Christie, which is due to happen shortly. I do this as an online diary for myself anyway, so I will just start a new page and it won't be 'the radiotherapy blog' from that point, and you won't feel obliged to read it.

Up at around 10am. Had a coffee and then filled the car with all of the gear for the day's exertions. As I've said, I wasn't looking forward to today very much. Two gigs in one day, both with a full rig and PA set-up to do.

I arrived at Atherton Collieries AFC at 11.30am, as the fun day started at 12 noon. The weather did not look promising. There were lots of clouds and it looked like it might rain. I wasn't feeling too good about all this, but got on with the job, instead of moaning about it..Our guitarist Ian arrived next. He unloaded his gear and was then made to take his car out of the grounds. There was really no need for that. There was masses of space and a row of cars parked not far away. He could have parked there with the others. I butted my car up to my side of the pagoda that we were hiding from the weather under. It didn't have any side panels and the wind would have blown us all over the place. Someone looked at me to move it and I pointed out that it was a windbreak and to protect us from the rain. Graham arrived and stuck his car on the other side of the stage area. We moved some large bins so his car could fit in the gap.

The PA had to sit outside the pagoda.  Ian put an overcoat over one of the PA speakers. Eventually a side panel was found for the pagoda and we tied it on and I trapped it in my car windows to try to keep it firm. It still blew around like crazy, but at least the little burst of rain that inevitably happened didn't get onto the gear. I covered the PA speaker on my side and I wasn't at all happy with the wind. There was now a rear panel attached too. This all hadn't been thought out. A single extension cable came to us from inside the clubhouse. I put my circuit breaker plug first in line.

Our first spot was largely ignored by the punters, as they were around the corner from us, outside the main clubhouse, or just inside it. We played well enough on the whole, though Graham was on the CBD and wasn't feeling at his best, and we also made a couple of changes from the normal set. A quick video call to Chris  in the break regarding the book. Everything appears to be approved. Our 'rather abridged' (shortened) second spot was pretty much the same, though we did have some people watching, as the weather had brightened up a bit. We interestingly seamlessly missed a whole section out of Tell Him (the 'Ever since the world began' bit and the last verse) and nobody noticed. The wind had really got itself together and the PA speaker on my side started to go over. Luckily a couple of our mates, Kenny and John, managed to avert a gear disaster. I have to thank them for that.

We broke the gear down quickly enough. The next band were on at 5pm and we learned that they would be playing indoors. Typical. They are keen to have us next year. IF WE CAN PLAY INSIDE, PLEASE.

The other afternoon events we are doing this year are all organised with the PA and drum kit provided, so I won't have to put the PA together at those. They will be nice to do. I will just be able to put my bass rig in place and play. Heaven.

I was back home at about 4.30pm and settled on the sofa. I pretty much stayed put, watching a series of Below Deck that I didn't know about until it came on the TV. I didn't fall asleep. One of the crew was fired in the first episode for being an absolute arse to everyone. He nade unwelcome advances to a cute female crw member in front of the guests, offered a fight to his cabin-mate who had mentioned that he should really leave the bathroom as others might want to find it. He was just a surly creep.

At 7.30pm, I pulled myself together and went off to Lowton for the evening's gig. I was there just before 8 and Graham was already loading in. I just felt shattered. But I had a job to do. We set up. Graham had managed to have a sleep inbetween, so was feeling a lot fresher than I was. Graham and I had a brief discussion about which way the band should be angled on stage. One option would have left me with practically no room and the stage is a bit of a bass trap, amplifying the low end ridiculously, so I suggested we didn't use the bass bins. That helped a lot. I kept my amp rig right back in a corner and it didn't really rumble too much. I have had to get it on a chair before now to stop it taking over the whole soundscape.

The evening gig was an entirely different affair to the earlier gig. We had a packed pub, did a slightly altered set and played with a lot more enthusiasm. The crowd loved it. I was bushed, but the only real mistakes were forgetting to sing the last line on a chorus on the Boys Are Back In Town and a cockup of sorts in Do wah diddy, where I missed a final section of the song out and just extended the next to last chorus. I put that down to being really really tired, as well as us not playing the song often enough. We came away with a very large tip and I was home before 1am. Bed immediately. A quick read and then off to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 2nd:
I first woke up with my alarm at 10am and snoozed it. 10 minutes later I got up and went to the bathroom and perfomed my ablutions... and then I went back to bed. I woke up a few times, eventually rising at 12.20. I went upstairs and did this blog for the last couple of days. Last night's venue messaged me to reclaim 'the large tip'. It was a staff error. I responded positively, saying I had said it was more than I was expecting when being paid, but, as I had said to the lady who paid us, I didn't have my diary on me at the time.

We have the jam night later on, so one last heroic heave and my weekend's work will be over. An afternoon of walking dogs on the park, TV and resting.

I got to the jam night at 6.15pm, despite road works and set about beavering away straightaway at doing the setup. I chased cables to the far side of the room for stage left and stage right power. I got my gear in and the PA cabs and stands and the mixing desk and monitor. Also 3 instruments and a large Stanley 3 level tool box full of cables etc. I had finished doing my bit, setting the PA up and my gear, so we were ready to start at 7.10pm. The stage wasn't lit properly as I forgot the lights. I was too rushed and forgot to get some of them out. I have too many jobs. As I rushed round frantically, setting up, I listened to the other guys warming up on their instruments, while my stuff was still in cases and i was still putting things together. The jam night was what it was. Some new blood again, and really promising stuff.

At the end of the night I broke the PA and my gear down and got it to the door. It took me 40 minutes of non stop running around to do it on my own. Me and Graham had our gear down and ready to go at the same time. Thanks to Nigel and Ryan for their kind help with Graham's gear. I was utterly shattered after breaking the gear down and loading it out. I'm going to have to make a decision on our jam nights. They are a lot of work and I'm just not sure I'm up to the effort it takes at the moment.

I went to bed and couldn't get comfortable and get to sleep. I was worried about where Smudge was. I have visions of her getting locked in next door''s shed again. They are not easy people to deal with. I was drop-dead tired but I only finally got to sleep at about 5.30am.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 3rd:
Up and about at around noon, though I did wake a couple of times before. At 9am I was downstairs checking if Smudge was visible. She was in the house. I was so relieved. I did a couple of jobs that needed catching up. An armchair, some cardboard and my cannibalised old PC base to the tip. I filled my car's coolant tank with the correct red coolant and it leaked a bit as the tank had got dislodged at the rear while I filled it. I managed to reattach it and stop the leak. I went out and bought some more coolant. I will have to keep an eye on it over the next couple of days. Some last minute amendments to the new Slade book manuscript and cover. Publishing tomorrow.

Smudge spent most of the day indoors in the back room, which pleased me no end and she was really friendly. She's 12 on the 27th of this month and I really do worry about her a lot. An evening of TV and then onto the PC for a short while to do a few things to the band website. I added the dates for next year to the LIVE page. I'm looking at all of those jam nights with dread. I've got Abbey Road by The Beatles on as I type, followed by the Let It Be (Naked) album.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 4th:
Happy independence day to those over the pond from us. I got up mid-morning. Met Mike and Steve for lunch. Mike's brother was there, so Mike sort of ignored us. He's from Yorkshire, y'know. Steve and I talked book publishing a lot. Smudge is getting more sociable with us again. She's not from Yorkshire. I published the new Slade book Did You See Us? at 11.15am. It's priced not for profit. The late afternoon was spent rearranging my bass effects board for stage use. I added a distortion pedal in for when I muck about with a guitar on it. I fell asleep in the early evening while watching TV. It's partly because I've had my evening meal and partly because I am almost lay down when watching the TV. I'm tired all the time anyway. I pulled myself together and stayed awake later on. Bed late as a result.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 5th:
Awake early enough and I lay in bed doing some Amazon reviews. I got up at a reasonable time, just after 10am. We walked the dogs a.few times during the day. I had a sleep during the afternoon, so didn't fall asleep in the early evening. A gig offer came in for this Friday and I checked that the guys are ok for it. We will be playing in Southport. This replaces a gig in Great Harwood where the venue has closed down. We finished watching the 'Egypt by train' series on TV, which I really enjoyed, seeing at it went to to a number of the places we have seen. Bed not too late, but asleep pretty much straight away. Things to do tomorrow.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 6th:
Julie and I would have been married for 38 years today. I was up before 10am and moving around, doing things. A quick coffee started a migraine off. 4 Zapains later and a few minutes to let my head settle doiwn and we set off. Lynda and I went to my daughters house to see her two lovely cats. A lovely visit. On the way back, we called at a venue in Horwich to ask about rebookings. They said they will sort us out. We dropped off our prescriptions at the GP surgery. Home for something to eat. My head still feels rather muzzy from the migraine. I think a nap will be called for to sort this out. A copy of Did You See Us landed. Quite happy with it. Some TV in the evening. We finished watching The Detail. It only ran for 10 episodes, which is a shame. There was a very obvious wrapping up of various plot points in the last episode. The Horwich venue messaged me to say their diary is full on our free dates. If they had responded to my messages when I sent them, they'd have got us. Bed early as I have to be up in the morning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 7th:
Up before 9am. I had a quick cup of coffee and then set off to Howe Bridge crematorium. I've been there too often recently. I was there for Peter Teasdale's funeral this morning at 10am. He went from oesophagal cancer, like my Dad and my mate Pete Entwistle. He was diagnosed after having problems swallowing and it was said to be inoperable. He passed away very quickly after that. He went far too young, though and it was a huge shock to all of us. It was a nice service, mainly conducted by his son and friends. We knew Peter through our jam night. He had the best attitude when it came to jam night. He was always mad keen to learn and improve his playing. No ego. Just there for the fun that's to be had. I always enjoyed showing him the odd trick on bass, which he found useful. I'm going to miss him. After that, the funeral party headed off to Tilwalds in Tyldesley where we host our jam night at 7pm on Sundays. No music today, though some jam night footage was on one of the TV's, but I couldn't see it from whwre i was sitting. The buffet opened and I queued up, but if anything was vegetarian, it wasn't marked as such. I headed home, ate, and then Lynda and I did a quick shop at Tesco. My Ultravox Quartet Box Set arrived and it looks great. I'm too tired to listen to it now. I'm going to do bath and bed this afternoon. The car is partly loaded up for tonight;'s gig. 13.50 and my eyes are shutting.

I got a few hours shut-eye and on waking, did a bit of Slade-site admin. I was sent a great review of Noddy Holder's Bloxwich appearance, which went on the site and the forum. I'm going to miss him on Saturday night in Salford, as we are playing in Warrington. That just left me time for a quick shower and to bolt my food down before driving over to Southport. I always shudder at the thought of the drive - mainly via long and winding A roads - to get there, but the gigs are always good and it's only an hour or so, same as anywhere else. It just seems I have to take a long and circuituous route, driving up towards Preston. I could cut through Chorley, but that just takes me through villages to get to the A59 and it's a drag. The alternative is the East Lancs and Ormskirk. Meh.

The band arrived there nice and early - all arriving at around 7.40pm. There was a very basic PA in place, but no monitor and I hadn't brought mine, so I had some problems hearing the vocals when we were playing at full tilt. We weren't overly loud on the night though. We had a really nice audience who stayed for the duration. The venue couldn't have been nicer to us. We had a lovely night and we definitely look forward to going back. I didn't fight with the sat nav on the way back. I just followed the A59 north until I got bored and then cut across to the M61. I was home at about 12.30am. I pretty much went straight to bed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 8th:
Up early for me, well before 10am. Lynda was a bit confused by seeing me up at this time. She checked the clocks. The afternoon naps appear to be doing me some good. A quiet day, some dog walking, I uploaded some video I had been sent. I also got on with ripping the Ultravox box set onto my computer. The new mix sounds excellent. A few hours sleep in the afternoon left me in good shape for the evening's gig in Warrington. We went down very well again. The place only has bands on every month, so some of the punters were a bit confused by all of the gear and two men stood there with guitars. We had them though. You can tell who the musicians are in any place, because they tend to watch us intently. I was home for 1am and straight to bed. No messing about on the computer.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 9th:
Awake really early again, about 8.30am. Once again, Lynda was a bit surprised.

John Lydon (the former Sex Pistols singist) is coming to Bolton Albert Halls next June, so I booked a ticket. Got a decent seat, but wasn't paying the daft meet and greet price. £91 to 'be his mate for 3 or 4 minutes?' Nope. I'm not THAT big a fan. The best bands do a free meet and greet.

A nice sunny day again. Tempting to try taking Tom for a better walk, as long as it doesn't get TOO hot.. We did go on the park near us for a short walk, but it was getting visibly warmer and Oscar was beginning to wilt, so we came home. Oscar does this sort of OCD thing where he walks round the path on the park, rather than cutting across any corners. It always makes me laugh. not like the insistemce on one of our dogs immediately pooing as soon as I have put a poo bag in a bin. A minor irritation.

I had a couple of hours nap, then some food, and then I headed off to the jam night. It was a bit special. Towards the end I went to the chippy, as Graham told me to get off the stage. I didn't need telling twice. I had a nice conversation with a regular, who praised my playing ability and stage sensibility. We talked about 'the future' etc. I outlined my basic plans to slow things down a little after my birthday next year. The setup and breakdown was a bit more cohesive this week and we got away for 11.15pm.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 10th:
Up very late. Exhausted from the weekend. I went for a walk to the bank to put some money in, and then to our friend John's house. He's out of hospital and is dealing with being at home. I pulled the trigger on a new bass guitar. I must get rid of a few guitars. I watched some Youtube in the evening, as Lynda had gone to bed. Bed very late. I'm going to have to do some of the afternoon nap routine again when I get a chance. Mary was climbing all over me digging her claws in for about half an hour after I hit the hay. I'm going to be knackered in the morning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 11th:
And knackered I was... I had a lunch date with two former Trade Union Reps that I used to wrork woth at Bolton. One of whom didn't feel well on the day - be well, Malcolm - so it was just Anne and myself. It's always nice to catch up. This time wasn't a string of obituaries. Anne's chap isn't well and I'm not as well as I could be, so that was the extent of our autopsy of ailments. A nice lunch, then I was home nice and early in the afternoon and managed to get the car on the drive before all the mums turn up in their 4WDs to pick up their little darlings and block my drive. We are conveniently located for a school that is nearby.

I remember a couple of years ago a lady stubbornly refused to move her car as it was blocking my drive and I calmly told her that if she ever parked her car there again, she would not recognise it as ever having been a car when she returned to it. She sent her husband round to deal with me later on. He called round and got Lynda who told him what I had said and why. I hadn't shouted at her and she had been totally obnoxious, entitled and unreasonable, in front of witnesses who were sat outside next door, who he could check with. He apologised for the haridian Mrs and slunk off.

I got a smart watch from Amazon recently and finally set about using it today. It counts my steps and says what level of fitness I am at. My heartbeat is much better than Lynda's. It takes a watch with a display to finally make me give two hoots about my fitness. I walked Tom and Oscar roun do to  nearby lodge, and then in the early evening, Tom on his own halfway around Farnworth to get myself to over 9000 steps today and to a moderate state of fitness. Laughable.

I keep thinking about ringing The Christie hospital to see what's going on regarding tests to see where I am up to with this whole cancer lark. I then put it off, because they will ring me when they want to talk to me. My Consultant at The Christie rang mid-afternoon and is discharging me to the care of Bolton Urology again. I am not displaying any of the threatened side effects following the radiotherapy, except for extreme tiredness. I will be booked for a PSA test to measure the level of any cancerous activity in my blood, during August. There will be a further follow-up PSA test just before my November Urology Oncologist appointment.

Bearing this in mind, I'm stopping the radiotherapy blog at this point.
I will report back on my test results on this other page.

You can all go back to doing much more meaningful things now.
If you've followed this blog and been vaguely interested, thank you.

Thank you to my friends for their support and good wishes.
If it has made one single person go and get a PSA test, then it's done its job.

Thank you for your time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

If you are (quite understandably) wondering what this blog is actually about, apart from cats and guitars, click here. All will be revealed. As I often say, boringly and repetitively, GUYS GET CHECKED.

If you've only just joined in reading this blog, you can scroll up the page to find out more about cats and radiation and stuff.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

July 12th:
The day after the radiotherapy blog.
Nobody here?
Good.

--------------------------

Top | The Future

© Ian Edmundson, 2023

www.ianedmundson.co.uk