Spent the day clearing out Caroline's room, which had been a repository for all sorts of junk. Now look at it:

I found I could put the bed behind the door, with millimetres to spare in each direction. Brilliant. We now have a bedroom with maximum space to move around. If necessary we could lay a mat for a child, too.

Sunday

Attended the 10:00 family service at St James; uninspiring.

After having ascended and descended both flights of stairs about twenty times with bags of discarded papers I thought I had earned a pub supper, so took myself off to the Bugle for a pint of Bass and a lamb moussaka.

Saturday

Lots of phone calls. Pete seems to want to give me detailed instructions. Weird, but he has the best intentions. This morning Tony Barber phoned. I'm to join in a lad's lunch at Mares Tails on Friday. Pete will collect me from the ferry and take me back afterwards.

Tony Carter phoned. I'm joining him for lunch at Wetherspoons in Lymington on Tuesday 13 Jan, after what will I hope be the first of many regular Tuesday morning PD exercise classes at Boldre.

John Skinner emailed with good New Year greetings from him and Pam — also hoping to see me restart those exercise classes: the group seem to enjoy my company, goodness knows why, but it's nice.

Up at six. Ready for racing at 9:30 but no one had arrived with the clubhouse keys so we were standing around for half an hour. Our usual start line: 'Grants' at the end of Loveshore Lane.I had a look around, particularly at the back of North House: home of the Hudleston family who paid for the recent clubhouse extension to the west.

Very little wind and spring tides with high water at 1:30. The few boats out for the race were drifting in the light airs so we postponed the start till ten to eleven.

By midday four boats finished, back at the clubhouse.

Outside on the balcony the wind, though still light, seemed colder. Again I looked inshore, this time to see the north side of The Towers:

Then downstairs to the Hudleston Bar for red wine, hot sausages and mince pies. I met some new people:

Vanessa and Peter — a second marriage with five children between them, splitting their time between Australia and Yarmouth. Very friendly like everyone here. They live in Sixpenny Corner, one minute for me.

Other new friends: June Smith who been a member for sixteen years and does the gardening. She used to live in the house opposite the gated garden in the High Street with the concrete sheep. June is a volunteer with the hospice shop in Newport, so she's going to take away some of my books and rubbish in her car on Wednesday week. James who comes from Leicestershire; Alan (Nursie) who came to Yarmouth two years ago and joined the club this year; another Alan whose father was a Bevin Boy managing a Derbyshire mine from the family home in Derby until they moved to Wingerworth! He works in Southampton for Lloyds Bank, commuting from West Cowes on the Red Jet.

Back home by two for a quiet afternoon. I have decided to locate my record collection (vinyls and CDs) in the space I have cleared in the gallery, so I'll get on with that now ...

A lovely bright morning. Bright sunshine, blue sky, a little cirrus high up, the wind keening across the rooftops. I went to the family service in St James Church here in Yarmouth at ten, came back for a light lunch, ready for a long walk along the Solent shore.

On Monday we had walked as a family towards Sconce Point, site of Fort Victoria about a mile to the West. Today in a brisk, strong breeze and bright sunlight I walked alone in the other direction — eastwards towards Bouldnor along the shore below Yarmouth Common, then back past the cemetery, home.

For some years Yarmouth was cut off from the rest of the island by a swampy cutting, making it an island within an island — as you can see from the photograph below. Today there were no ships to be seen: no sailing yachts, no liners, no container ships, and no ferries. Today, Christmas Day, we were truly an island.

All was quiet, though there were some white horses on the sea. Visibility was good but not perfect: I could not see Portsmouth but I could see the white cliffs around Lee on Solent and of course the masts of boats at Lymington.

Wednesday. Fresh instructions about the roses. I was to put them in a bucket of water in a corner of the terrace away from the south-westerly wind. There they'll stay till Meryl gets here on 30th. IÕm told Meryl is the expert. So doubtless Meryl and I will buy pots and compost from a garden centre. The two climbers will stay on the terrace and train up the trellis. The two floribundas will probably be planted in the small bed outside the front door.

Our Parcelforce man rang the bell. Another parcel from Shiri: leather case with wine and accoutrements for summer picnics.

I got down to a job I have been meaning to do for ages — to sort out the bed linen.

Now at five the sun has set. I have done my washing and I'm ready to walk down to the Bugle for some supper.

Tuesday

Up early in the morning as I had to be in Lymington for an MRI scan. I walked off to catch the ten to eight ferry the others caught me up with their car and drove me from Lymington Pier into the garden of Francis and Ian. Francis appeared and showed us all round her extensive garden. Then Dexters drove off and I went to my appointment. I collected some food from COOK and caught the midday ferry, so was back home by one.

As I walked up South Street there was the postman, who had a parcel for me. To my huge surprise it contained four lovely roses from Apuldram nurseries. I had to ring Apuldram to find out who had sent them: Shiri. I had to ask a friend what to do with them. Overnight they stayed in water in the bathroom.

Monday

Monday was very windy. I had given Sam at ten pound note and showed him where to go to fetch pain au chocolate and croissants. So at half past eight he trotted off and came back all smiles with five of each and fifty pence change. So we had a continental breakfast with coffee and juice. After breakfast we opened presents. I had a lovely framed photo of the two children from Dan and Jenny, and key rings from the children. Katie's was delicate, adorned with a string of yellow balls and miniature skulls; Sam's was big and chunky, made of driftwood, for my garage saying Shed on one side and Love from Sam on the other. The children had been given the family version of Trivial Pursuit. We played in teams, and Dan won.

The idea had been to fix up the grandfather clock but it was too nice a day to stay indoors so we walked across the Yar Bridge down to the beach and along to Fort Victoria at Sconce Point: quite a walk but we all enjoyed it. Back from our walk Dan and Jenny cooked a lovely Christmas supper. They had come with an already cooked ham and some lovely red cabbage. Then there were potatoes, sprouts, redcurrant gravy and white sauce. We followed up with mince pies and ice cream, and finally cheese, with port. After that it was time for charades; lots of laughs, especially from the children given any opportunity for scatology.

Sunday

Dan came. He had Jenny with him, Katie Sam and Lottie, and a considerable number of Christmas presents: some for them, some for me, some for Paul and Mary and their family, some for Libby and Dave and their family.

At six o'clock we all went down to All Saints Church in Freshwater for their service of nine lessons and carols. The singing with moderate as you'd expect from a small parish church. We weren't quite sure about the person taking the service. We came back to Yarmouth for supper in The Wheatsheaf, with a raucous hen party on the next table. Katie slept in Caroline's room, Sam on a mat in my gallery, Lottie in the hall. Everyone was pretty comfortable I think.

Today I went round to the garage and managed to find the cable which connects it to the computer, so I'm now fully backed up. I also found the cable and charger for my camera.

The laundry arrived at Holding's so I brought that home. Then I bought some supplies from Harvey's and some bread from the Deli.

I've strung up my Christmas cards on the glass screen at the side of my study in the gallery. And I've set up payments to each of the children to honour my commitment to Patti. So I make progress slowly.

It has been a lovely day today: brisk wind and cold but fine with a clear sky. The sun has just set: a glorious red sky I see as I look out to the West from my window.

The day for a visit by Pam Keen. I am up early, breakfast, shower, dress, hoover around and take a phone call from UR. He tells me Richard Gadd is ill: fluid on the lungs, and some other syndrome. He has to have an MRI at St Richard's. I must phone June. Just after half past ten Pam turns up bringing gifts: fudge and shortbread, as well as my backup disk from the mainland that I had asked her o collect from my car, parked in Frances's garden. As pam arrived, Chris appeared. It's happy hour tonight so Chis will collect me on the way down to the club. I introduce him to Pam. Then she and I sit down for about an hour upstairs and have a good chat. Pam talks incessantly. We decide to eat at the station. Lots of people; quite noisy. Good food, and not very expensive. Pam departs on the five past three back to Lymington.

I'm sitting upstairs now with the sun streaming in through the window. A few clouds, and I can see Graham's meteorological equipment with its anemometer spinning wildly. It's a lovely afternoon.

That's it for today folks!

Thursday

A quiet day; nothing much to report, so no entry

Got up this morning in good time to go to see the dentist. The dentist's name is John Dine. He graduated from Guys. He has an assistant called Tarny (don't know how to spell that) who is quite nice and delightfully young. Like many of the people here she has innocence and a simple sense of humour. Then there is an older dental nurse called Pauline. I notice she has blue eyes as she looks at me from above whilst hoovering the saliva out of my mouth as John presses in a temporary filling. He started off charting my teeth; I counted over forty fillings and about seven crowns! I mention to the pair of them that the team might be called Dr Dyne and his little ergs. John has been practising in Yarmouth High Street for three years. He drives here from his home on the hill outside Ryde. John tells me that I have several things wrong with my teeth and ought to use a clockwork toothbrush. Seemingly gums, palate, mouth floor and jawbone are all OK. That's a relief.

Walking back home from the dentist I take a call from Pam Keen. She is not well and is therefore not coming to see me today. We arrange that she'll come instead on Friday. So I go home and try to phone specialist nurses to talk about my prostate ultrasound and biopsy. There was concern last night from Dan that I shouldn't be just turning up at Lymington Hospital having this procedure, just before Christmas. Caroline had told me I should not be treated as an outpatient. I need to be admitted into hospital, weaned off Warfarin onto heparin and then have the heparin switched off six hours before the procedure; then have heparin restored, and subsequently I should be weaned back onto Warfarin. That whole process would probably take something like six days so I'm looking to telephone the hospital and/or specialist nurses arrange for that to be done. Caroline thinks it would be good to go ahead with the MRI so as to get the diagnosis process started, but delay the in-patient episode for the biopsy till after Christmas.

Janet, the specialist urology nurse just phoned at four o'clock. We agreed I should continue with the MRI at Lymington on 23rd, but we'll re-arrange the biopsy at SGH in the NewYear. That'll be as an in-patient, so as to be able to regulate the anticoagulants (Warfrin/heparin) around the time of the procedure

By the way, my next appointment with Tim Dudderidge the consultant urologist is not scheduled till February. I notice also that 23 December is the last of the two days Dan plans to be here with his lovely family; so altogether it's not the best ...

This morning my new rubber stamp arrived. It produces a brilliant blue copy of my signature. No more problems signing cheques!

I now have a new (extra) bank account. My idea is to transfer a tenth of my income to this account each month and use that as a fund for charity donations.

Several people have been sending Christmas cards to Arden House, many of them wishing well to 'John and Pat' so I am writing to them thus:

Dear Richard and Judy

Sadly Patti died last summer.

She was sprightly and full of fun till December. Here is what Caroline had to say the other day:

One of the most vivid memories I have is of you both coming back from the Beaulieu Panto earlier in December. I was sitting in the music room, as you both came through the front door. Mum was SO full of life and excitement, saying how BRILLIANT it was, and what a lovely evening you had had. She had her arms raised high in the air and looked absolutely radiant, so full of life. She was trilling away at the top of her voice. So difficult to understand the dramatic change.

The change came upon us on 20 December when she was taken ill. On 21 December Dan and I took her to hospital. Increasingly unwell, her diagnosis on Christmas Eve was of a terminal brain tumour. She had prepared Christmas for the all the family; in the event we cooked lunch for her: a neat reversal of roles. On Boxing Day Ryc the Vic from Beaulieu helped us with a service at home to rededicate our marriage of 44 years. Patti had opted for radiotherapy which, along with steroids, kept her going for six months. We (the family) looked after her at home with intermittent help from Oakhaven Hospice at Home and others till she died at 4:00am on 27 June. It had been an increasingly unpleasant for her. James, a family friend and undertaker organised her funeral six days later and we, grandchildren included, were all able to join in scattering her ashes on Tennyson Down the following day. For a fuller account see: www.johndexter.co.uk/patti

A few months after that I sold up and moved to Yarmouth, here on the Island.

My best wishes to you for a brighter 2015

Today it was my cousin Pauline with her man Barry — and Liz & Jim Gill. Yesterday Jean and David Rhodes from Chagford, near where Dan was conceived (blushes, please Dan); Ray Stewart (widow of an old PA colleague Greg who keeled over on the golf course at Longniddry thirty years ago); and Gina & Stewart Vincett (he of the bonsai trees and his legendary comment: "Andy for the Oover".