1. April 2026
Wind, Wood, and Names in Stone. March 2026
March was turbulent. As changeable as the weather, and just as hard to predict once it gets going.
A new ground and an old habit
The month started with a trip to a new football ground. As a Burnley FC fan, away days are always a pleasure, even when the season is not. I like seeing what other clubs have built. History and architecture matter to me. You can read a club’s story in brick, mortar and steel if you take the time to look.
Getting to Everton’s new stadium was worth it. Goodison has always felt tired but wonderful, a proper old place with a soul. The new ground is something else. Modern, impressive, but also with the trappings and concerns that remind you football is not just football anymore.
The area around it is still rough. Docks, derelict buildings, the usual hard edges you get where regeneration has not finished its argument with reality. It was a good night for a friend’s birthday, despite the result. The biggest cheer came when Everton fans celebrated Liverpool losing at Wolves. That put the fear into us about finishing bottom, but I cannot pretend it was not funny watching our resident Liverpool fan, dressed in Burnley colours, squirm when the disco lights came on at full time.
A boiler and the price of modern comfort
The new boiler went in and, as usual, one job created several more.
A leak appeared in the Quooker tap. The Alexa control for temperature did not behave. First world problems, yes, but problems all the same. The annoying part is not that things go wrong. It is that everything is connected now, which means a simple replacement turns into a chain of little systems failing to agree with each other.
Spring arrives early, then laughs at you
We had a lovely week of weather and Courtney called spring early. Out came the garden furniture. We acted like the season had changed because the sky was pretending to be blue. We should have known better because March decided to remind us what month it actually was.
The wind in our garden is brutal and we normally pack everything away properly each year to stop it being destroyed. Bringing the furniture out early ended with me chasing chairs down the street in the dark when the weather turned. There is no dignity in sprinting after patio furniture, but there is a certain clarity. Nature wins, every time.
The Terminator arrives
Then the Terminator arrived. A Dunster House Terminator wooden summer house. My new gym, and maybe my office.
It arrived as a huge pile of timber and anticipation. Five and a half metres by three and a half, delivered in sections that made me question my ability and optimism.
Courtney had planned a week off to help. But the decking underneath was not reinforced in time, so the best week of the month went by with no work completed in the garden. Instead it was pushed into the next week, leaving me on my own, just as the weather turned sour.
It was all four seasons, every day. Snow, sleet, hail, rain, wind, sun, freezing temperatures, sometimes in the same afternoon.
Courtney caught a virus and was bedridden for days, so it was me on my own. I took five days off work. It took four to build. I finished each day cold, wet and broken, with the usual collection of small wounds that come from handling timber, tools and sharp edges when you are tired. Danny Glovers trademark comment of "I'm too old for this shit" came to mind on a regular basis.
By the end of the week the roof was on and waterproofed. The floor was fitted and insulated. The walls stood up to fifty mile per hour gusts without folding. Success.
The other Terminator
At the end of that week we took a short weekend break to see the other Terminator. Arnie.
We travelled to the NEC in Birmingham and watched Schwarzenegger speak at the Arnold Classic expo. Seeing him in the flesh was surreal. He was funny, sharp, and full of stories. Arnie was a hero of mine growing up in the 80's and I could listen to him all day, and he could probably talk all day.
The NEC also had a Comic Con on, which meant walking between arenas through an odd mix of bodybuilders, fitness fanatics, and anime and video game characters. No one dressed as a Terminator, which felt like a missed opportunity given the theme of my month.
That night we stayed in Tutbury, in a lovely fifteenth century coaching house. I am too tall for old ceilings and I bonked my head more than once. We had a good three course meal and we were in bed by nine. It had been an exhausting week.
Writing, finally, with a line under it
Somewhere in the middle of all that, I did the thing I have been trying to do for months. I finally finished Knox Investigations and got it into a place I am genuinely happy with.
It took cutting around ten thousand words and a lot of manoeuvring. That book was a slog from start to finish. Not because the idea was wrong, but because the shape was wrong, and the middle of it fought me the whole way. I kept having to drag it back onto the rails.
I read through it again after the cuts and the changes, and for the first time it held together. The hard work is done. I know I still have editing ahead once the alpha readers come back with feedback, but the draft is finished, and I can finally say I am happy with it.
To take my mind off that grind, I threw myself into another short story. A court martial piece, built from a mix of different cases and different outcomes. It is short, pithy, and it gives the feel of being on the stand in a General Court Martial. That pressure. That silence. The knowledge that every word counts. It was a fun write, and it will be my focus in April before I move on to the hardest book so far.
That one is Corporal Henry Knox. I have written up to chapter ten and struggled to get through it. It is not in a good place yet. Hopefully, with a clear run, I will have better news next month.
The Arboretum
Whilst in the Birmingham area, I took the opportunity to go to the National Memorial Arboretum.
It is an incredible place. One that reaches straight into you if you have ever worn a uniform, or loved someone who did. People have built memorials for friends, family, colleagues, workmates, messmates, instructors, brothers and sisters who did not come home. It is awe inspiring, and it is heavy.
We took the land train around the complex and I felt it in my chest. Seeing the Iraq memorial sitting in the green fields of England after the last time I saw it in Iraq brought a lump to my throat. The names land differently when you are standing at home, looking at stone, remembering sand.
For the Royal Military Police in Iraq, these are the names I carry with me.
- Sergeant Simon Alexander Hamilton Jewell
- Corporal Russell Aston
- Corporal Paul Long
- Corporal Simon Miller
- Lance Corporal Benjamin Hyde
- Lance Corporal Thomas Keys
- Major Matthew Titchener
- Company Sergeant Major Colin Wall
- Corporal Dewi Pritchard
- Corporal Christopher John Read
- Staff Sergeant Denise Michelle Rose
- Captain Ken Masters
I am not writing those names for effect. I am writing them because the point of remembrance is that the dead do not become background noise. Not in a busy month, not in a loud world, not even when you would rather look away.
All in all, March was about movement and weather. A long but rewarding month, filled with ups and downs. Thank you for reading and hopefully I will see you on the other side. Keep your chin up and head down.
Exemplo Ducemus
Pete