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Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts

We've Paid Off Our Mortgage

A momentous day today, and we have paid off our mortgage.

Yeah, we have finally paid off our mortgage. The last payment of £566.11 went out of our bank account today, bringing a permanent end to our monthly housing debt, because that's what it is.

We’re heading out for a meal this weekend to celebrate, nothing too extravagant because that's not really us.

But I have to admit that, for me, the milestone feels surprisingly flat; Debs is over the moon, but for whatever reason I just can’t seem to get that excited about it. Maybe it’s simply an anti-climax after thinking about it for so long.

It has been a long road. Like most families, we’ve had our financial ups and downs along the way. We had to speak to our mortgage provider on several occasions over the years and, without naming names to protect the guilty, they often acted far more like a debt collection agency than the warm, supportive institution their literature paints them to be. But we survived them, kept chipping away and eventually made it through.

Adding a little extra to the monthly payment whenever we could certainly helped. At some point I might sit down and work out how much time and interest those overpayments actually shaved off the total term. I suspect it’ll be quite satisfying to see what those little extra payments added up to over the years.

I had wanted to mark the occasion by sending off a cheque for our final payment with a small rant, or perhaps a large "FUCK YOU!" written on it. I decided against it though. Well, if I’m being perfectly honest, when I was planning it with AI, ChatGPT suggested it probably wasn’t a particularly clever idea.

Right now, I’m still not entirely sure whether I wish I’d ignored that advice.

So that’s it. A fairly major life milestone reached, one monthly payment gone forever, and yet somehow it all feels much quieter than I expected.

MG HS PHEV Real-World Range: My 76-Mile Commute Challenge

We pick up our new MG HS PHEV Trophy on 2nd September 2026, and from the 3rd I’m giving myself a slightly interesting challenge.

My normal commute is around 19 miles each way, or 38 miles a day. Two days therefore comes to 76 miles.

The MG HS PHEV has a 24.7 kWh battery and an official WLTP electric-only range of up to 75 miles.

You can probably see where this is going.

I need 76 miles from a car officially rated for just 75.

The aim is to leave home on the first morning with a full battery, complete two full days travelling to work and back, and see how much charge is left when I arrive home on the second evening. If the petrol engine has to kick in a mile from home, I've lost. If I make it back entirely on electricity, I've won.

And then, obviously, I'll want to beat it.

Yeah, I am ever so slightly competitive.

The 76-mile challenge

My regular route should make this particularly interesting. Around 70% is on 60 mph roads, with the remainder largely through 30 mph villages and built-up areas. Much of it is winding Yorkshire country roads, with bends, junctions and regular changes of speed.

That means plenty of opportunities to lift off early, coast and use regenerative braking rather than simply sitting at 70 mph on a motorway for mile after mile.

I'm not planning to crawl around trying to manufacture a record either. The idea is to drive normally and see what the car can genuinely achieve on my everyday commute.

The league table

I'll keep my top five attempts here, ranked by how much battery I have used after completing the full day's commute.

So yes, the league table records individual 38-mile commuting days because the car will inevitably get used for other journeys between attempts. Whenever I manage two consecutive days where the MG is used for nothing except commuting, I'll also record whether it completed the full 76 miles entirely on electricity.

Position Date Dist. Charge
used
Temp. Weather Heating / AC Notes
1st
2nd
3rd
4th
5th

The interesting part will be seeing what changes the result.

Temperature should make a noticeable difference, as will rain, heating and air-conditioning, traffic and probably even the exact route I take. A mild September commute could look very different from a freezing January morning when the battery and cabin both need warming up.

Over time I should end up with a reasonably useful bit of real-world MG HS PHEV range data, rather than one isolated journey carried out in perfect conditions.

And because it's a plug-in hybrid, there's no real range anxiety involved. If I don't make the 76 miles on electricity, the petrol engine simply takes over and gets me home.

I've just lost that round.

Can the MG HS PHEV really do 75 miles on electric?

That's what I'm hoping to find out.

MG gives the HS PHEV an official WLTP electric range of up to 75 miles from its 24.7 kWh battery. Real-world range will inevitably vary with temperature, speed, weather, heating and driving style.

My commute gives me an unusually neat test: 76 miles over two working days, just one mile beyond the official figure.

So 75 miles isn't actually my target.

76 is. Like I said, I have a competitive streak when I want to.

When the Sun Disappeared

So, we’ve just had a partial solar eclipse here in the UK. 
The last time we had one like this, my girls were only three weeks old (August 1999) which is a slightly alarming way of measuring the passing of time! 

The whole thing got me thinking about what our ancestors must have thought during a solar eclipse (yeah I often think weird things like this).

It’s easy for us today. We understand what’s happening, we can predict an eclipse years in advance, and we know that the Sun is going to reappear. But imagine living 1,000 years ago and watching the Sun slowly disappear over the course of an hour.

People understood just how predictable the rising and setting of the Sun was, and more importantly, how essential it was to their lives. Then, one day, in the middle of its normal journey across the sky, something starts taking a bite out of it.

Without knowing why it was happening, or whether the Sun was actually going to come back, that must have been terrifying.


One of my photos from the evening.

Are We Getting An Electric Car?

So, my wife has started to become interested in electric vehicles and, to be honest, I might be too.

We have a Ford Kuga, and we still have a car loan that runs until next year (£284 a month). I also spend approximately £280–£300 a month on petrol, so the car effectively costs me around £590 a month. Potentially, I could pay less than that for an EV instead; no more buying expensive petrol, much less maintenance, slightly higher insurance perhaps, but lower car tax.

I drive almost 60 miles a day commuting currently, and our longest regular journey is probably a round trip of around 200 miles to see our grandson, which is very doable in a modern electric car. So yeah, let’s look at it and see where it takes us.

After looking at salary sacrifice, we started leaning towards a personal lease instead. Octopus seem to have some good deals on EVs, and my wife particularly liked the Omoda E5 Noble. My only concern was the headroom, as I'm 6'2" and need the clearance!

Anyway, after a week of research, I had a ranked list of potential cars based on the specs.


Rank Vehicle Rating
1st CUPRA Born V1 58 kWh + heat pump 9.2 / 10
2nd Leapmotor B05 67.1 kWh 8.8 / 10
3rd Renault Megane E-Tech EV60 8.6 / 10
4th Leapmotor B10 67.1 kWh 8.3 / 10
5th Omoda E5 Noble MY25/26 7.8 / 10
6th Kia EV4 Air Standard Range 7.4 / 10
7th BYD Dolphin Comfort / Design 7.3 / 10
8th Hyundai Kona Electric 65 kWh Advance 6.9 / 10
9th JAECOO E5 Luxury 6.4 / 10
10th MG S5 EV Long Range 5.9 / 10

OK, so not everything this weekend went quite as expected. We went to the dealership mainly to see whether I could actually fit comfortably in an Omoda E5 Noble at 6'2" (I could, by the way). As it happens, though, my wife decided she didn't like the front grille. While we were there, the salesman mentioned plug-in hybrids.

On the same site was a Chery dealership, so we had a look there too. We didn't really like the look of the cars, so I asked ChatGPT whether a plug-in hybrid might actually suit the way we use a car. With a roughly 60-mile round-trip commute each day, the MG HS PHEV Trophy came up as a particularly interesting option.

Luckily, we were parked right next to an MG dealership.

Long story short, that morning we'd been absolutely certain we wanted an EV. A few hours later, we walked out of the dealership having bought an MG HS PHEV Trophy.

Since then I've looked at my route to work, the 60-mile round trip is based on a motorway route from Knottingley to Doncaster, using mainly A roads, there is a 38-mile a day route, I sense a little competitive driving against the MG HS PHEV 75-mile WLTP, lets see how I do.

Brain Freeze isn't Real

Is brain freeze real? Apparently people are convinced it is, but I’m still entirely convinced that it doesn’t.

I’ve eaten ice cream too quickly, gulped freezing drinks and generally treated cold food with very little respect, yet I can’t remember ever experiencing that sudden stabbing headache people describe.

Now there is something called cold-stimulus headache, but your brain doesn't freeze.

Perhaps I’m immune to this phenomenon, perhaps I know brains don't freeze so I don't suffer from it!

Social Care Should Be a Shared Risk

It seems like a complete no-brainer to me that social care should be risk pooled across the UK.

That is already how we treat taxation and the NHS. We all contribute, knowing that we may never need expensive treatment ourselves, because none of us knows what illness or misfortune might come our way.

Social care is no different. Some people will never need much support, while others may develop dementia, suffer a stroke or simply become unable to care for themselves as they grow older. That is not something anyone can sensibly plan for, and it should not become a financial catastrophe simply because you happen to be one of the unlucky ones.

We do not ask someone with cancer to sell their home before they can receive treatment, yet we are far more comfortable doing something very similar when somebody needs long-term care.

Of course, risk pooling would mean all of us paying something towards a service that many of us may never use. But that is the whole point of pooling risk. We pay collectively so that no individual or family is ruined when that risk becomes reality.

Wildfires

The scenes coming out of France and Spain over the past few weeks have been absolutely horrendous. Huge areas of land have been destroyed, homes and communities have been threatened, people have lost their lives and more than 300,000 residents and holidaymakers have been evacuated.

France is experiencing its worst wildfire season on record, while Spain has suffered some of the largest fires in its recent history. These are no longer isolated fires that can simply be contained by a few local fire crews. They are vast, fast-moving emergencies that can overwhelm entire regions and require help from firefighters, aircraft and military personnel from across Europe; and don't think this is just mainland Europe, we get them in the UK too, and they will get worse.

We cannot get away from the role that global warming is playing in all of this. Climate change does not necessarily start a fire, but prolonged heatwaves, drought and extremely dry vegetation create the perfect conditions for one to spread. Western Europe recorded its hottest June on record this year, with widespread dry conditions contributing to increased wildfire activity across Spain and southern France.

In other words, climate change loads the gun, but in most cases it is still human activity that pulls the trigger.

Around 96% of wildfires in the European Union are caused by human actions. Some are started deliberately, but many begin through carelessness or accident: disposable barbecues placed on dry ground, cigarettes thrown into grass (often tossed from vehicles), unattended fires, or sparks and hot material from vehicles and agricultural machinery. During very hot and dry conditions, it only takes one small spark to ignite grass or vegetation that is ready to burn.

Regardless of exactly how each fire started, Europe, including the UK, needs to begin adapting to the conditions we are now facing. Reducing carbon emissions remains essential, but even if the world made dramatic progress tomorrow, hotter and drier summers are already becoming part of our climate. We need to prepare for them.

That will mean more firefighters trained specifically to deal with wildfires and rural incidents, better equipment, improved early-warning systems and proper evacuation plans for communities in vulnerable areas. Fire services designed mainly to deal with house, vehicle and industrial fires may increasingly find themselves facing incidents that behave very differently and cover enormous areas.

Farming and countryside management will also be important. Agricultural machinery needs to be properly maintained and regularly cleared of dust, oil and dry crop material. During periods of extreme risk, farmers may need additional guidance about when machinery can be operated safely and what firefighting equipment should be carried.

Interestingly, farm vehicles, such as tractors and combine harvesters, do not need an MOT.  While they are exempt from standard MOT testing, they are still subject to strict legal requirements regarding roadworthiness, but what about maintenance and standards for working in fields without overheating or causing sparks or heat! Perhaps this is something we need to look into too!

We will also need to think more carefully about how land itself is managed. Firebreaks, ploughed strips, managed grazing, shorter grass, carefully controlled burning and areas of greener, less flammable vegetation can all help reduce the amount of fuel available to a fire. A varied landscape of fields, woodland and managed open ground can sometimes slow a fire in a way that one continuous area of dry grass, scrub or forest cannot.

Interestingly, I was thinking about writing this while driving down the M18 towards Doncaster this morning. There were plenty of fields filled with dry grass and crops, but every so often there would be a freshly ploughed field with little or nothing available to burn. There were also fields containing greener crops, along with boundaries of trees and bushes breaking up the landscape.

Not every hedge or wooded boundary will stop a wildfire, of course. Unmanaged vegetation can sometimes help carry one. However, it did make me wonder whether the patchwork of farmland we already have could become part of our defence, particularly if future agricultural and environmental policies begin to consider wildfire prevention more deliberately.

There will also have to be a change in public behaviour. Disposable barbecues, campfires and cigarettes that may once have seemed relatively harmless can become incredibly dangerous during a heatwave. We already issue warnings about flooding, ice and storms; perhaps clearly communicated wildfire-risk warnings will need to become just as familiar during the summer months.

Wildfires have traditionally felt like something that happens in Australia, California or the hottest parts of southern Europe. That is changing. The UK has already experienced serious grass, moorland and woodland fires, and the conditions that make them possible are becoming more common.

We may not be able to prevent every spark, but we can reduce the chances of one being created, manage the land so that fires have less fuel and make sure our emergency services are properly equipped when one does take hold.

The fires in France and Spain should not be viewed simply as another terrible European disaster. They should be seen as a warning of the conditions we may all increasingly have to live with.

From Over 18 Stone to Here

I’ve been away from my weight-loss journey for a while, but when I recently looked back at the numbers, I realised I’d been overlooking something rather important. Although I haven’t continued losing weight, I haven’t gone all the way back to where I started either. Far from it.

Today 14th August 2026 I'm 15st 12.2lb (222.2lbs or 100.79kg) - that’s 2st 8.8lb lighter than my heaviest. I've vowed never to see anything like 16st again.

This whole journey for me really began after a New Year trip to London at the end of 2023. On New Year’s Day 2024, I decided I needed to start building some healthier eating habits.

While we were away, I found myself needing an extender for the button on my jeans. Around the same time, I’d also seen a photograph of myself taken at my niece’s wedding, and it showed my weight gain far more clearly than the mirror ever seemed to.

When I got home from London, I stepped onto the scales. I was proper shocked, and honestly quite horrified, to see that I weighed 18st 9.8lb (261.8 lbs or 118.75kg), (I had signed up with a weight loss app while in London on New Years Day and guessed that I weighted about 17st!).  I’m 6ft 2in, so I can carry a fair amount of weight without always realising quite how much is there, but that was far more than I’d expected. I knew I needed to do something about it.

Since then, my weight has gone down, gone back up a little, levelled out and generally wobbled around, as weight tends to do. I can sometimes become a little complacent and stop worrying about it for months at a time, although I actually think taking an occasional break from thinking about weight can be a sensible thing for my mental health.

At my lowest on this journey, I reached just over 15st 4lb (214lb or 97kg) on 22nd Nov 2024. As of Friday 24th July 2026, I'm 16st 3lb (227lbs or 102.97kg) ... yeah I put a bit back on!

That still means I’m roughly two and a half stone lighter (34.8 lbs or 15.79 kg) than I was when I came home from London. I need to remember that, that’s a win, because it’s very easy to look at the weight I still want to lose and completely overlook the weight I’ve already lost.

Right now, I actually feel pretty good about my weight. I need smaller waist sizes than I used to, and some of my clothes are now visibly too big for me. Those are real, noticeable signs of progress that matter far more than the occasional wobble on the scales.

The line on the chart isn’t perfectly straight (and you can see my complacent periods clearly), but the direction from where I started is pretty obvious.


Our cruise leaves on 1st November, and that has given me a very clear next target. I’m determined to get myself much closer to 14st 7lb before we sail. I’m not promising that I’ll definitely hit it, but I do love a BHAG!

I know what works for me. Tracking calories makes me more aware of what I’m eating without pretending that certain foods, or drinks, are forbidden. I read and understand the nutritional labels on food now, and I think that’s an important part of this journey for me. It helps me understand how much of something I can eat while still maintaining the calorie deficit I need to lose weight.

Exercise is a trickier one. I have knee pain, so hard aerobic exercise isn’t really an option for me. I’ll need to find movement that works with my knees rather than against them, while accepting that most of my progress will come from what I eat and drink.

That’s the approach for the next few months: calorie tracking (aiming for less that 1,770 a day), better choices, plenty of protein (aiming for at least 100g a day) and daily accountability. Nothing ridiculous, just more consistency and fewer moments when I pretend the calories somehow don’t count.

This note is now out here in the wild too. It might not be read by many people, but I know it exists, and that gives me another little push to follow through.

I started at over 18 and a half stone. I’ve already come a long way, and now I’m ready for the next part.

Breast Cancer in Men

Today, we launched a new phase of our campaign with our charity partner, Breast Cancer Now. It’s an incredibly worthwhile charity and cause, and the figures are stark: in the UK, around 85 men die from breast cancer each year, alongside approximately 11,500 women.

I love what we’re doing at work. Those numbers are a stark reminder of just how many people we lose to the disease each year but, as we work in the construction industry, it’s particularly valuable to get the message out there that men need to check themselves too.

If you’re able to, please donate through our Breast Cancer Now JustGiving page.

A Two-Week Reset

Some people reading this may know that I also have a little corner of the internet where I do beer reviews. It’s been a lovely summer so far, with warm evenings, very hot days and plenty of football. I know football doesn’t necessarily mean drinking more alcohol, but I do enjoy a beer while watching a match.

The original plan was with the 2026 FIFA World Cup final taking place on Sunday 19th July, was to abstain from alcohol for two weeks from that date, now that England aren't in the finals I might have a couple of beer tonight (Friday 17th) the last for a few weeks. Hopefully, it’ll help me regain a little health and fitness, while giving my body and brain a bit of a reset.

This will just about coincide with my Mexican lager finishing conditioning in my Pinter, so happy news. 

I suppose this could be me being sober curious again!

Let’s see how I do.

24th July 2026 – I know I’m not an alcoholic, far from it; I just enjoy a drink. Even so, I’ve found going without one surprisingly difficult, despite it only being six days.

I think this 1st full weekend will be the real challenge, especially after a long week, but I’m sure I’ll get through it without having a beer.

27th July 2026 – Well, that surprised me. A weekend without alcohol was much easier than I expected, and I didn’t seem to miss it at all!

1st August 2026 - I only fucking did it! I am slightly pleased and impressed with myself for lasting without any alcohol at all for two week, I knew I'd do it.

Careful, Not Germaphobic

I don’t think I’m a germaphobe, but I do like to have hand sanitiser close by. I did long before the Covid pandemic too, a trait my daughter Emily seems to have inherited. Sorry, Em.

I’m not frightened of germs, but I am very aware of them. There are certain family homes where I struggle to eat because I’m never completely confident about the cleanliness. That seems fairly logical to me. I don’t particularly want to spend the following day ill because somebody picked their nose, handled food without washing their hands, or skipped the handwashing after going to the toilet. Disgusting.

I’m wary of homemade food from some friends and neighbours too, particularly when children have been heavily involved in making it. I know that probably sounds harsh, but children aren’t exactly famous for excellent kitchen hygiene.

I’m not a germaphobe. I’m just careful about germs, as we probably all should be.

Proud of Them

I’m sure my kids already know this, but it still feels right to write it down.

I’m totally and utterly proud of the way they’ve both turned out, Emily and Rebecca. We’ve had our ups and downs, and sometimes we don’t talk for a while, but they have their own lives to live, and they’re getting on with living them.

Yeah, I’m really pleased with how they’ve turned out.

200 Posts In

Actually, this makes it 203, but who’s counting?

I’ve reached a 200-post milestone that didn’t even exist when I started putting this Digital Garden, or personal wiki, together. I had no idea how many posts I would end up creating, but here we are, so I thought I’d write this little retrospective.

When I started, I thought I might find the whole process difficult. Thinking of things to write about, turning those thoughts into something readable, then finding the confidence to publish them. Instead, the freedom of having a Digital Garden has made it surprisingly easy.

Ideas for posts and notes come from all over the place. It might be bringing together research I already had about my great-grandfather, Herbert Henry Scaife, or looking into a long-gone brewery near where I now live.

Sometimes it’s about the strange sayings and television quotes that have worked their way into our everyday lives, such as The Lines That Stuck. Sometimes it’s documenting a journey, whether that’s our possible move to Spain or keeping a record of my Pinter brewing times.

Then there are the silly little notes about things I don’t want to forget.

The content has come from lots of different places, and I love the variety of things that pass through our minds every day. I’m just happy that I’ve now got somewhere to capture some of them.

I used to keep many of my notes in Google Keep, but putting them here feels much more liberating. They’re no longer hidden away in a private list that I’ll probably never look at again. They’ve become part of something bigger, connected to other thoughts and memories, and the act of writing them down properly has possibly helped me remember them a little better too.

The garden has also slowly taught me that not everything has to be perfect.

In my professional life, I don’t publish anything until I’m 110% happy with it. Every word, fact and detail has to be checked, tweaked and checked again. That approach has its place, particularly at work, but it can also stop you from putting anything out at all.

This Digital Garden has reminded me that sometimes it’s better to just put something live. A small idea can begin as a seed, develop into a sprout, then eventually become a flower: a fully formed post that probably doesn’t need much more tweaking.

Or perhaps it never grows beyond being a seed. That’s fine too.

I also think this Digital Garden could become one of the most important things I leave behind. My children aren’t particularly interested in it right now, and I don’t blame them, but perhaps one day, when I’m long gone, they’ll start wondering what I did, what I cared about and what went through my head.

Well you two, it’s all here.

I think that idea of leaving something behind has become one of the main reasons I want to keep writing. So, 203 posts in, there’s plenty more still to come.

The Lines That Stuck

Some lines don’t just stay in the programme or film they came from, they somehow escape into real life.

My wife and I do this all the time. A line from a sitcom, a film, or some daft bit of telly will work its way into our everyday language, and after a while it stops feeling like a quote. It just becomes something we say.

So this page is a little collection of those lines. The ones that stuck.
One thing I have noticed as I've started to compile this is that we misquote virtually every single one of them, but we don't care, still still think they are funny, perhaps funnier *not*

"Green it were!"
These words were uttered by the late, and very great, Brian Glover. It comes from an episode of Porridge, where Brian brilliantly played the dim-witted Cyril Heslop. The full, and correct, line is "I read a book once, green it was!", but we’ve changed it a little. So quite often at home, when we mention the colour of something, we’ll end with "Green it were!"

"Mickey Pearce lives on the Nyerere Estate"
This one comes from Only Fools and Horses, in the episode Yuppy Love, which is also the one where Del falls through the bar. Cassandra has dropped her friend off on a posh street, and Mickey mentions that it’s going to be a bit of a culture shock when she drops Rodney off at Nelson Mandela House. So when Cassandra gets back in the car, she says she’ll now drop Rodney off at the Nyerere Estate.

Rodney quickly corrects her: "I don’t live in the Nyerere Estate! Mickey lives on the Nyerere Estate. I live near it. I’ll show you."

We tend to use this one whenever someone has slightly misunderstood where something is, or what someone has said. It’s one of those lines that doesn’t really need much explaining in our house any more.

"Hag!"
This one is from Hot Fuzz. Sometimes, as a daft put-down, my wife or I will call the other one "Fascist!", and the reply is always "Hag!"

In the film, Sergeant Nicholas Angel is trying to check into his hotel while the receptionist is doing a crossword. She suddenly says "Fascist!", then explains that she’s looking for a seven-letter word meaning a system of government categorised by extreme dictatorship. Angel correcting her with the word "Fascism", then he looks at her and utters the word "Hag!", explaining that it means an evil old woman, considered frightful or ugly, one of the answers for her crossword.  It’s childish, obviously. But that’s probably why it works.

"Oh Really!"
This is one that I thought came from a Fawlty Towers episode where the inept builder Mr. O'Reilly was brought in by Basil Fawlty, much to the dismay of poor Sybil. I thing she changed "O'Reilly" to "Oh Really", so now whenever we hear the name O'Reilly, we always respond with "Oh Really!".

"What did I say, Roy?"
Another one we use a fair bit comes from The Fast Show, from the sketches with Roy, played by John Thomson, and Renee, played by Caroline Aherne.

The basic set-up is usually Renee talking to some poor stranger about a random subject, before suddenly turning to her brow-beaten husband and asking, "What did I say, Roy?" Most of the time Roy just repeats what his overbearing wife has just said, but every now and then he says something she really doesn’t like.

The line we always quote is Roy saying, "You said you could shit through the eye of a needle." In our house, the reply has somehow become, "I didn’t, you lying bastard!" Which may not be accurate, but it makes us laugh more.

"Unaccustomed as I am"
This one is from Blackadder S3 E4, "Sense and Senility", the one where the actors try to teach the Prince Regent how to deliver a speech.

As part of the lesson, he has to stand with his legs wide apart, in an apparently heroic stance, before delivering his first line with a great big ROARRRR. His speech starts, "Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking…"

We use "Unaccustomed as I am" as a daft little intro before we start saying something. It doesn’t really need to fit. That’s probably why it works.

"My love, my love"
That last one reminded me of this one. If I want to say "my love" to my wife, I’ll usually say it as "my love, my love", in a slightly Spanish accent.

It comes from Blackadder S1 E4, where Edmund is talking to the Infanta, with the hilarious Jim Broadbent as the interpreter, Don Speekingleesh.

The Infanta says, "Estas el verdadero amor de mi vida, amor mio, amor mio!" to Edmund, which Don then translates as, "You are the true love of my life, my love, my love!" in his pidgin English.

"But it’s Slater"
Every time someone gets mentioned who is called Slater, my wife and I will usually reply with, "But it’s Slater."

This comes from the Only Fools and Horses episode "Class of ’62", where Slater comes back to Peckham because he knows his estranged wife, Raquel, lives there.

At one point, when Raquel tells Del that Slater used to be her husband, Del reacts with utter disgust and says, "But he’s Slater!"

Yeah, I’ve noticed this is another one we’ve changed slightly to make it funnier for us. That seems to be a running theme.

"Oh, you did, did you?"
This is one of those lines from The Vicar of Dibley that we churn out fairly often. If one of us says we’ve done something, the other will invariably reply, "Oh, you did, did you?", or "You did, you did?", or something similar.

The line comes from the 1996 Christmas special, The Christmas Lunch Incident, better known to everyone as the one with the sprouts.

The actual exchange goes:

Geraldine: Ah! I’ve heard wonderful things about your cooking, Mrs Tinker.

Mrs Tinker: ’Ave you?

Geraldine: Yes, I have.

Mrs Tinker: ’Ave you?

Geraldine: …yes, I have.

Mrs Tinker: Oh, you ’ave, ’ave you?

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no parking is allowed in the top field!"
This is another of those lines from The Vicar of Dibley that has found its way into our regular vocabulary.

In the scene, Jim Trott is asked whether parking is allowed in the upper field. Clearly exasperated at having to announce it yet again, he takes to the PA system:

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no parking is allowed on the upper field. OK?"

It still makes us laugh, even though, as usual, we’ve tweaked it slightly over the years.

"They’re only doing it now!"
This is another of those lines from Only Fools and Horses, this time from the 1996 Christmas special, Time on Our Hands (you know the one). We tend to use it when someone does something, usually does something we don't expect.

In the episode, Uncle Albert mixes up the coffee and gravy granules. As the family begin pouring coffee over their Christmas dinner, Del turns to him in the kitchen and says:

"They’re only doing it now. They’re only out there pouring Maxwell bleeding House over their lamb noisettes and veg!"

"The dirty bastards!"
This one comes from The Catherine Tate Show and Janice and Ray, the Yorkshire couple who are permanently disgusted by modern life and almost everything they hear about.

In one sketch, they’re talking about a couple who use shiitake mushrooms in their cooking. Naturally, this is enough for Janice and Ray to declare them "dirty bastards".

Ever since, whenever we hear someone mention mushrooms, or any slightly unusual food or ingredient, one of us will inevitably say, "The dirty bastards!"

"I don't know, I'm not from around here"
This is another one from OFAH and we troll this out if someone mentions what the weather is doing. In the "Jolly Boys Outing" episode, Del mentions to Mrs Creswell (landlady) that its cold out, she replies "That’s the weather.", and Del quickly responds back with "Oh is it? I do… I don’t know, I’m a stranger round here."

The Jolly Boys Outing

I’m a child of the late 60s, so like a lot of people my age, I grew up on a fairly heavy diet of 70s and 80s sitcom telly. Blackadder, The Young Ones, Yes Minister, Red Dwarf, Only Fools and Horses... the sort of programmes you didn’t just watch once, you absorbed them.

Most of them have episodes I can still watch over and over again, even when I know every joke, every pause, and every look to camera before it arrives. But with Only Fools and Horses, there’s one episode that I could probably watch on repeat all day, every day, and still not get bored of it.

The Jolly Boys’ Outing.

It’s just so watchable. Partly because John Sullivan knew exactly how to tell a story, partly because the plot gives everyone something to do, and partly because the acting is so good that even the smallest lines land perfectly.

The set-up is simple enough. The regulars from The Nag’s Head go on their annual coach trip to Margate, only for the whole thing to go spectacularly wrong when Del’s dodgy Albanian car radios explode and blow up the bus. The boys end up stranded overnight, Del runs into Raquel again, and the whole thing becomes less of a sitcom episode and more like a little comedy film.
 
Prior to the coach exploding,  Mike and Trigger are helping Harry (driver) up the steps, he's a little worse for wear" after their stop off, at the halfway house.

Trigger turns to Mike and asks "What d’you think’s wrong with him?", Mike in his usual dry wit replies "What do I think? Well, snow -blindness would be my bet, Trig.", Trigger immediately responds with "Yeah? I thought he was pissed."

Then later, after their coach has exploded, all the Jolly Boys are outside Margate Railways Station that is closed because of a train strike and they have realised that they have missed the last bus home and everyone is shouting and blaming each other, Uncle Albert tries to calm things down in the only way Uncle Albert knows how:

Mickey turns annoyed to Dels Uncle Albert "We’ve had enough of your stupid stories for one day. Albert!", "Oi, oi, oi! Watch it! He’s a war hero, he’s got a right to speak!" butts in Del. Albert continues, "I fought for free speech!" ... "Shuddup!" Del shoots at Albert.

The timing, the irritation, the way Del knows exactly where Albert is going before Albert has even got there.

Then there’s Mrs Cresswell, the stern landlady running the guest house where the lads end up staying. She lays down the law with an 11:00 pm curfew and makes it very clear that there’ll be no ungodly behaviour under her roof. 

Earlier when Del, Rodney and Albert enter the Villa Bella  guest house, Del mentions how cold it is, Mrs Creswell responds "That’s the weather.", "Oh is it?" Dels responds, "I don’t know, I’m a stranger round here."

Anyway, the boys end up at the Mardi Gras Nightclub, in the background the club singer is doing her turn, Boycie, Mike and Trigger arrive at the club, when Dels says "It’s good here, innit eh?", "Stunning." replies Boycie,, Del quickly responds with "Yeah, they got a magician, a singer and a comedian. The singer’ll be on in a minute!", I mean the line is funny as it stands, but the singer misses a beat as she glares at Del for insult. Absolute class.

Later when Del and Rodney arrive home from the nightclub at 2am in the morning, Del is about to ring the front doorbell when Rodney, in full panic mode, stops him:

“You can’t ring the bell! You’ll get Mrs Cresswell out of her coffin!”

It’s such a perfect Rodney line. Scared, sarcastic, and completely believable.

Written down, it barely looks like a joke. On screen, it’s perfect. It’s a tiny line, but it’s beautifully delivered.
 
This is probably why the episode works so well. It isn’t just one famous scene or one big set piece. It’s packed with little moments, little looks, throwaway lines, and characters bouncing off each other in a way that feels completely natural.

Some comedy dates badly, and some comedy only survives because people remember watching it when they were young. But The Jolly Boys’ Outing still works because it’s properly well made. The story moves, the jokes land, the characters feel real, and it has that strange comfort-watch quality where you know exactly what’s coming and still enjoy every second of it.

For me, it might just be the perfect Only Fools and Horses episode.
 
Writing this I started to remember the bits that shows that my wife and myself say t each other on probably a daily basis, so as I remember them I'll add them to my "The Lines That Stuck" page.

Noisy Eaters

Noisy eating brings out, what I think, is a very reasonable response. When someone is sat there chewing with their mouth open, talking through food, and making every mouthful sound like a plumbing emergency, I can feel my patience leaving my body.

I’m talking about people who eat with their mouth open, talk with food in their mouth, take bites that are clearly far too big to chew properly, noises that seem to fill the whole room. Once I’ve noticed it, that’s it. I can’t unhear it, I can’t ignore it, and I certainly can’t enjoy sitting at the same table pretending everything is fine.

To me, it’s not just a harmless habit. It’s rude. Really rude. Eating with other people should come with a few very basic rules, and "keep your mouth closed while chewing" feels like it should be somewhere near the top of the list. It’s not advanced etiquette. It’s not silver service. It’s just the bare minimum of not making everyone else experience your food at the same time as you.

Talking with food in your mouth is just as bad. I don’t need to see what you’re eating while you’re explaining something to me, or see your food sprayed all over the table. Finish the mouthful, then speak. The conversation will survive the three-second delay. In fact, it might even improve if part of your lunch isn’t trying to join in.

I know this probably makes me sound grumpy, but I genuinely find it difficult to share a table with people who eat like that. It completely ignores basic table manners, and more than that, it ignores the other people sat around you. I think that’s the bit that bothers me most. It’s not just noise, it’s a lack of awareness.

And yes, I know people have different habits, different upbringings, and different levels of tolerance for this sort of thing. I’m sure there are things I do that annoy other people too. But eating with your mouth open, smacking your lips, slurping and talking through a half-chewed sandwich shouldn’t be defended as personal expression. It’s not quirky. It’s not relaxed. It’s just rude.

I don’t want formal dining rules. I don’t care which fork someone uses, and I’m not expecting anyone to dab politely at the corner of their mouth with a linen napkin (but seeing people wipe their mouth or the back of there hand isn’t nice to see, and don't get me started on people that lick their knife). I just want people to chew quietly, keep their mouth closed, and not make the rest of us feel like unwilling witnesses to the entire digestive process.

Surely that’s not too much to ask.

Know Your Rights and Use Them

I’ve written up a consumer dispute over on my Contract Clangers site involving a mobility scooter purchase, unfair contract terms, and a trader who really didn’t seem keen on recognising basic cancellation rights under UK consumer law.

The business was Rental Scooters Strathclyde Ltd, and they appear to have also traded as Mobility Scooters Direct and Scooters Scotland on eBay.

The short version is that we challenged them, specifically Lloyd Jamieson, the owner, over what we believed was a failure to recognise the 14-day cancellation period under the Consumer Contracts Regulations 2013, often loosely referred to as distance selling rules. After approaching Mr Jamieson and having our legal rights rejected, we took the matter through the Scottish Courts and won.

We were also able to check the strength of our case before going ahead, and we were reassured that our documentation was in good order and that the process we followed was sound. That mattered, because when you’re dealing with a business that simply refuses to accept your position, you need more than frustration. You need records, dates, evidence, and the patience to see it through properly.

The bigger point with this piece is really this: don’t assume a company is right just because they sound confident. If something feels off, check your rights, keep proper records, use Citizens Advice if you need to, and be prepared to follow it through calmly.

My own experience of dealing with Mr Jamieson left me with no trust at all in any business he was involved with. That’s only my opinion, based on what happened to us, but it’s an opinion I’m very comfortable standing by.

Sometimes the win isn’t just getting your money back. Sometimes it’s refusing to be brushed off.

And as you can see from my little site, Contract Clangers, if I know I’m right, then I’ll fight to protect my rights. I will not allow small-minded businesses to undermine my legal rights, and nor should you.

Old Memories I Don’t Want to Lose

This is a loose collection of memories, some big, some tiny, and some that probably don’t mean much to anyone except me, and no-one e;se will really care about. I’m trying to get them down before they disappear completely.

Take all dates with a pinch of salt. Unless I have firm evidence, they may be out by a year or two, but they’re close enough for me.

1975 - The Day I Built a Bomb - not quite as alarming as it sounds, but probably still one of those things best explained properly.

1977 - "The Great Milk Escape" - I’m guessing I was about 10, and my sister Andrea was approaching nine, when we were asked to nip to the shop for a pint of milk. For younger readers, I should probably explain that milk bottles back then were made of glass, with a little foil cap on top.

Andrea had the milk bottle in the bottom of a plastic carrier bag and started swinging it around like a windmill. The full pint gave it a decent bit of weight, so she got a proper swing going, until the foil cap must have come loose and some of the milk escaped.

My dad, quite reasonably in hindsight, thought we’d just drunk some of it and didn’t believe we could have lost milk by swinging it round in a carrier bag. I’m fairly sure we got into trouble for that.

1980 - "I Accidentally Knocked a Wall Down!" - I'm guessing at the year, but the event itself is very clear. I was riding my bike around the streets, like all kids seemed to do back in the day, when I rounded a corner and realised I was too close to a low wall. Crunch. I hit the corner of it with my right pedal and, rather than bringing me off the bike, I somehow managed to pull the corner of the wall off instead. A big lump of bricks fell onto the pavement. Here's the location.

1982 - "A Drop Out of the Ordinary" - I remember a mate of mine, Chris, drawing this for a school art project; a splash of water, with one tiny droplet picked out in a different colour.

2005 - "A Tiger in the House" - I guess Rebecca was about six or so when she came running from the conservatory, or the “it-ree” as they used to call it, saying there was a tiger in there. Being the fun dad I was, I followed her in. She pointed to the corner where the tiger was and said, “There!”

I looked over and could only see the rocking horse that their grandma Pam had bought them. “Is that it?” I asked, playfully. “No, Dad!” Rebecca replied, in her sternest six-year-old voice. “That’s a horse.”

It proper put me in my place.

6th February 2022 - “Oscar’s Premonition” – On this day, we lost one of our rabbits, Sooty. I was digging his grave in the garden when our gorgeous cat Oscar sauntered over, looked into the hole and lay down beside it, watching me (a bit out of the ordinary for the little lad). I explained that it was all right, as I wasn’t digging it for him.

Just over two weeks later, on 21st February, we lost Oscar. He had a tumour that sadly couldn’t be operated on. I’ve always wondered whether he somehow knew, or had a premonition, that he would need a grave of his own very soon.

From £1 to £1m in 21 Steps

Ok, this started as a much smaller experiment.

The original idea was simple enough ... could I start with £5, buy a few small items, sell them on eBay, reinvest the money, and eventually turn that tiny pot into £1,000

That was the plan, and it is very doable, I have done it before, but I just wanted to document it this time.

But then I remembered an idea I’d heard years ago from someone talking about online selling. It was one of those ideas that sounds almost too simple to be useful, until you actually write the numbers down.

Start with £1. Double it. Then double it again. Keep doing that, one step at a time, and by the 21st step you have £1,048,576.

The maths is easy. The doing it bit is where it gets kinda interesting, and way more difficult.

So I’m changing the experiment. The original £5 to £1,000 challenge is now becoming something slightly bigger, slightly dafter, hopefully much more fun and rewarding, and probably much more interesting to follow.

This is now The 21 Step Challenge.

The challenge is not to pretend that making £1m on eBay is simple. It isn’t. The internet is already full of business "gurus" making business sound easier than it is, usually just before they try to sell you a course, a formula, or a ready made business.

This is different. I want to see how far the doubling idea can go in the real world, starting with tiny amounts of money, using eBay, clearance stock, old products I already have, low-cost buys, and whatever lessons appear along the way.

It might work for a while and then slow down badly. It might fall apart when the easy stock runs out. It might get stuck when the pot gets big enough that I need better sourcing, more storage, or more time than I’m willing to give it.

That’s part of the point.

The interesting bit is not just whether the money grows. It is what has to change at each step.

Quick note: before you copy any of this, please check your own tax position. If you are buying things with the intention of selling them for a profit, that can have tax implications. 

The 21 Step Ladder

Here is the ladder that makes the whole thing feel slightly ridiculous.

Starting with £1, each step simply doubles the previous amount. By the 11th step, you are past £1,000. By the 21st step, you are past £1m.

Current position: I started with £5 (9th June 2026), and the current value (as of 3rd Jul 26) of the challenge is now £78, that's step 7 of 21 already!

Starting pot £5.00
Current value £78.00
Step completed 7th
Next target £128.00
1st Step £1
Completed
2nd Step £2
Completed
3rd Step £4
Completed
4th Step £8
Completed
5th Step £16
Completed
6th Step £32
Completed
7th Step £64
Completed
8th Step £128
Current
9th Step £256
Future
10th Step £512
Future
11th Step £1,024
£1,000 milestone
12th Step £2,048
Future
13th Step £4,096
Future
14th Step £8,192
Future
15th Step £16,384
Future
16th Step £32,768
Future
17th Step £65,536
Future
18th Step £131,072
Future
19th Step £262,144
Future
20th Step £524,288
Future
21st Step £1,048,576
The big one

How I’ll Measure Progress

The easy mistake with this sort of challenge is to talk about sales as if sales are profit.

If I buy something for £8 and sell it for £13, I haven’t made £13 or even £5. I still need to account for postage, packaging, promoted listing fees (if I use them), and any other costs attached to that sale.

So the number I’ll track is not turnover. It is the current value of the pot.

Current value = profit made so far + cost of stock

That is deliberately cautious. It does not value unsold stock at what I hope it might sell for. If I have stock left, I count it at what it cost me. If it cost me nothing because it was already sitting in the shed, I record it as £0.00.

How I Moved Up The First Steps

I won’t list every tiny sale in this post because that would quickly become dull. The proper detail lives in my spreadsheet. What I’ll show here is the movement between steps: what I bought, what I sold, what worked, and what I learned.

Step update: 1st to 6th step

From a tiny starting pot to the 6th step of the ladder.


Current Value (25th June 2026) £55.28

Started with: £5.00 Step completed: 6th Next target: £64.00

What moved the pot: The first bit of movement came from small, useful, easy-to-post products. I started with hosepipe connectors bought from Tesco, then used the money from early sales to buy more small clearance items.

One of the better early results came from Oral B brush heads bought from the Tesco clearance aisle. They were bought for £8 and sold for £13, and one pack sold the day I listed it. That is the sort of product that makes sense in the early stages: small, known brand, easy to post, and not too hard for a buyer to understand.

I also added a few old bits from the shed, including drill bits and small unused ratchet straps. These were effectively free stock because they were already paid for and not being used. That makes the profit calculation slightly strange, but it is still real cash if they sell.

Lesson: at this stage, small and boring can be beautiful. The best early products are light, useful, non-breakable, easy to describe, and cheap enough that the buyer does not need to think too hard.


Next step: 7th step

The next target is to get the pot to £64.


Target £64.00

Status: Completed Current value: £55.28 Still needed: £8.72

The 7th step feels very reachable. One or two decent sales could get me there, especially if I can shift more of the small stock I already have.

The bigger question is what happens after that. Getting from £55.28 to £64 is not the hard part. The harder part is working out whether the same approach still works when the pot needs to reach £128, £256, and £512.

Next decision: do I keep looking for one-off bargains and old stock, or do I start looking for repeatable products I can buy again?

25th June 2026: I've had a bit of an epiphany this morning, so I got on like and ordered £9.20 worth of stock in shoe cleaning stuff, foam and wipes to be specific, I think it could be a good product test.

3rd July 2026: I had a couple of excellent sales this morning from basically old straps and ratchets that I had in my shed that are brand new, and it took me up to £78, and on to the next step.


Status: In progress Current value: £78.00/span> Still needed: £50.00

Actually wasn't as difficult as I thought to reach this step. I probably had 5-6 days when I didn't get any sales at all, and it does make you wonder if you're ever going to sell anything again, but I held my nerve and BOOM! today a couple of good orders landed (almost £30 worth).

At the moment I am carrying on as I am doing, as if today I need £50 to get to the next step, but after todays sales, it seems very doable. I have the shoe clening stuff arriving from AiExpress in the next day or two. I've just listed a couple of products that were on sale in Tescos (bike shampoo stuff!), I spent £10.80, but expect to virtually double my money on them, the Tesco sale ends next week, so they will hopefully sell shortly after that, in fact I may buy a few more this weekend.


The Bigger Question

The early steps are almost a scavenger hunt. Find something cheap. Find something free. Find something in the garage. Find something in a clearance aisle. List it properly, price it sensibly, post it quickly, and keep the money moving.

That is useful, but it probably only gets you so far.

Like I said, at some point, if this keeps going, the challenge changes. It stops being about whether I can sell odd bits and starts becoming about whether I can find repeatable stock.

That could mean buying small quantities from UK suppliers. It could mean bigger retail arbitrage (buying discounted or clearance products and selling online for a profit). It could mean buying job lots. Much later, it might mean sourcing from overseas, creating an own-brand product, or using a fulfilment house.

But there is a trap there.

A bigger business is not automatically a better life. If the challenge ever reached serious money, I would not want to spend every evening surrounded by boxes, tape, labels, and mild regret. The point of building something is not to lose every spare hour to it.

So this challenge has two questions running side by side.

Can I keep doubling the money?

And just as importantly:

Can I do it without making life worse?

What I’ll Track As The Challenge Grows

As the ladder gets higher, I’ll track more than just the money.

I’ll keep notes on what I bought, what sold, how quickly it sold, how much postage cost, how much time it took, and whether I would buy the same product again.

I’ll also track the bigger turning points. Things like when it makes sense to print labels at home, when it makes sense to move from single items to small batches, when postage collection becomes worth it, and when storage starts becoming a real issue.

Those are the bits I think will be most useful. Anyone can say “buy low, sell high”. The real learning is in the messy details.

Early Lessons

Small, light, useful, non-breakable, easy-to-post items still feel like the best place to start.

Postage matters more than almost anything else. A product can look profitable until you realise it is awkward to pack, too thick for the cheapest service, or likely to cause delivery headaches.

Titles matter too. eBay search is not the same as website SEO, but keywords still matter. A title like “Universal Adjustable Garden Hose Tap Connector Mixer Adaptor 15-19mm No Thread” is not pretty writing, but it is probably much better than something vague and tidy.

Descriptions do not need to be essays, but they do need to remove doubt. If something only fits taps from 15mm to 19mm, say that clearly. If a product is not suitable for lifting, say that clearly. If something is out of its original packaging, say that clearly too.

I also need to avoid panicking if something does not sell in the first day or two. If the price is fair, the listing is clear, and the product has demand, sometimes the best thing to do is leave it alone.

21 Step Challenge FAQ

General challenge questions

What is the 21 Step Challenge?

The 21 Step Challenge is based on a simple doubling idea. Start with £1, double it to £2, then double it again to £4, and keep going until the 21st step, which is £1,048,576.

I’m using it as a live eBay selling experiment to see how far a tiny starting pot can grow by buying carefully, selling clearly, and reinvesting the money.

Why start with £1 if I actually started with £5?

The ladder starts at £1 because that is the cleanest way to show the doubling idea.

My own experiment started with £5, so technically I began part way up the ladder. That is fine. The point is not to be mathematically pure. The point is to use the ladder as a simple way to track progress.

Is this really about making £1m?

Not really. Or at least, not in the shiny internet sense.

The £1m number is what makes the maths interesting, but the real challenge is seeing how far the idea works in practice. The early steps are about eBay, small products, postage, and reinvesting. The later steps would involve much bigger decisions about stock, storage, sourcing, fulfilment, tax, and time.

What counts as completing a step?

A step is completed when the current value of the challenge reaches or passes that step’s target.

For example, the 6th step is £32. Once the pot passed £32, that step was completed. The next target is the 7th step at £64.

Tracking the money

What does current value mean?

For this challenge, current value means net profit made so far plus stock still held at cost.

That keeps the number grounded. I am not counting hoped-for sales or imaginary future profit. If stock is still unsold, I count it at what it cost me.

Do free products count?

Yes, but I record the cost as £0.00.

If I already own a product and sell it, the cash generated still helps the challenge. But I do not want to pretend I paid for stock that was already sitting in the shed.

Do I include stock that has not sold yet?

Yes, but only at cost.

If I bought something for £10 and it has not sold yet, I count it as £10 of stock held. I do not count it as £18 just because I hope to sell it for £18 later.

Do I include postage and packaging costs?

Yes. Postage and packaging can make or break small eBay products, so they need to be included.

If I sell something for £10 but it costs £3 to post and 30p to pack, that has to come off the profit. Free postage is not really free. It is just hidden inside the selling price.

How am I tracking profit?

I’m using a spreadsheet with an inventory tab, a sales log, an expenses tab, and a monthly summary.

The inventory tab helps me track stock. The sales log keeps the actual sales record. The monthly summary tells me whether the pot is genuinely growing or whether postage, packaging, fees, and slow-moving stock are eating away at it.

Buying and selling

What sort of products am I starting with?

I’m starting with small, useful, easy-to-post products.

So far, that has included hosepipe connectors, clearance aisle buys, Oral B brush heads, drill bits, cam buckle straps, and other small trade or household products.

Am I only selling on eBay?

For now, yes.

eBay is the easiest place to restart because I already have an account, even though it had been dormant for years. Later, if the challenge grows, other channels might make sense, but I do not want to overcomplicate it too early.

Will I list every product I buy and sell?

Not in the main post.

I’ll keep the proper records behind the scenes, but on this page I’ll summarise the products and lessons that moved the challenge forward; I will share ideas of products that I am buying because I know that when faced with thousands of options, we sometimes have no idea what to buy!

What makes a good early product?

For me, a good early product is small, light, useful, non-breakable, easy to describe, and easy to post.

It also helps if it is a known brand or a product someone is likely to search for when they need it. Boring products can be very good products.

What has worked so far?

Small clearance items and old stock have worked better than expected.

The hosepipe connectors sold well enough to get things moving. The Oral B brush heads sold quickly. Old shed stock such as drill bits and straps helped because the cost was effectively zero, which makes even small sales useful.

Scaling the challenge

When does retail arbitrage stop being enough?

I suspect it starts getting harder somewhere around the middle of the ladder.

Retail arbitrage can work well when the pot is small, but it is time-heavy and unreliable. You have to keep finding bargains. At some point, the challenge probably needs repeatable products, not just lucky finds.

When would I buy stock in larger quantities?

Only when I have evidence that a product sells, the margin works, and the postage is predictable.

Buying 2 or 3 of something is very different from buying 50. The bigger the buy, the more careful I need to be.

Would I source from UK suppliers?

Possibly. If the challenge reaches the point where I need repeatable stock, UK suppliers would probably be the first place to look.

That would keep things simpler than importing, especially around delivery times, minimum order quantities, compliance, and quality control.

Would I import from China?

Maybe one day, but not early on.

Importing can open up better margins and own-brand possibilities, but it also brings bigger risks: minimum order quantities, product quality, shipping, duty, compliance, cash tied up in stock, and the possibility of buying a lot of something that nobody wants.

When would I consider own-brand products?

Only if I found a product type that clearly worked and could be improved, bundled, branded, or presented better than the existing options.

Own-brand sounds exciting, but it is also a bigger commitment. At that point, the challenge starts looking less like casual eBay selling and more like a proper business.

When does fulfilment become worth it?

Fulfilment becomes worth considering when packing orders starts taking too much time or limiting growth.

But fulfilment also costs money, reduces margin, and adds another layer of complexity. I would only consider it if the product was repeatable, the volume was steady, and the margin could cope with someone else doing the packing.

Real-life stuff

What about tax?

This is one of the reasons I’m tracking everything properly.

Selling personal items you no longer want is one thing. Buying products with the intention of selling them for profit is different. I’m not giving tax advice here, but if you try something similar, check the rules and keep records from the start.

What about storage?

Storage is one of the hidden problems with this kind of challenge.

Small products are fine. A few plastic boxes are fine. But if the challenge grows, stock can quickly take over a room, a garage, or in my case, possibly a corner of the bar and brewing area.

How much time does it take?

At the start, not too much. Listing a few small items, packing orders, and dropping parcels off is manageable.

But as sales grow, time becomes part of the calculation. A product that makes £2 profit but takes ages to pack, label, and post may not be as good as it looks.

When does this stop being fun?

Probably when the admin, packing, storage, and customer service become bigger than the enjoyment of the challenge.

That is something I want to watch carefully. Making money is nice, but building a tiny cardboard prison in the house is not the dream.

What happens if it takes years?

Then it takes years.

I’ll put dates against the steps because that makes the challenge honest. If it takes 2 years to reach a certain point, that is useful information. A slow, real experiment is more interesting than a fast, fake one.

What if I fail?

Then that becomes part of the story.

The challenge might stall. I might buy bad stock. eBay limits might slow things down. Postage costs might kill the margin. The point is not to pretend the whole thing is guaranteed. The point is to see what actually happens.

Final note: I’ll keep updating this post as the challenge moves forward. Each step will show the target, the current value, what moved the pot, and the lesson learned along the way. The maths says 21 steps gets you to £1,048,576. Real life may have other ideas.

My Big DuckDuckGo Question

It was one of those boring meetings where your body is technically in the room, but your brain has already gone wandering. This happens to me A LOT.

I had my phone in my hand and, for no useful reason at all, wondered what the traffic on my digital garden looked like over the past week. I haven't posted in a while, so curiosity got the better of me.

What struck me most was the amount of traffic coming from DuckDuckGo.

According to Umami, I had 324 visitors in the past 7 days, and 37 of them had arrived from DuckDuckGo. That was around 11% of my traffic, which genuinely surprised me as I only had 1 visitor from Google. I knew people used DuckDuckGo, of course, but I didn't realise it was sending that much traffic my way.

Then I started wondering about the people, and therefore the reason, behind those numbers.

Are DuckDuckGo users the indie, slightly boho searchers of the internet? The people who still bookmark odd little websites, read personal blogs, avoid the algorithmic sludge, and prefer the quieter corners of the web?

For a brief moment, I really liked that idea, I often think of myself in those ways, so it felt like I was talking to my people.

A digital garden isn’t really a standard corporate website. It isn’t a polished marketing blog either. It’s a scruffier thing than that, well mine is anyway. A personal corner of the web. Half notebook, half archive, half “I’ll come back and tidy this later”, which admittedly is three halves, but that sum feels about right for my digital garden.

And maybe the people who seek out these spaces are also the kind of people who choose alternative search engines. People who are a bit more intentional about their digital footprint. People who don’t just default to Google because it’s there. People who are still curious enough to look beyond the usual platforms.

That was my first theory ... then, with curiosity still surging inside of me, 10 minutes later I dug a bit deeper into the stats and slightly ruined my own romantic idea.

It turns out that around 92% of the DuckDuckGo traffic was landing on one page: my Pinter brewing times page.

Out of curiosity, I searched for “pinter brewing times” myself. On DuckDuckGo, my page was showing in positions 3 and 6. On Bing, it was also sitting around position 3. On Google, it was nowhere to be seen.

That made the whole thing even more interesting.

Most of the other results on DuckDuckGo and Bing were from the official Pinter site. So my scruffy little garden page, written from actual batches and real experience, was sitting among the official results as one of the few non-brand answers to the question.

Someone searching for “Pinter brewing times” probably doesn’t just want the official answer. They can get that easily enough. What they really want is the unofficial answer. The lived-in answer. The “I’ve brewed this myself and here’s what actually worked” answer.

That’s where personal websites like mine still have a place, they can answer the awkward little questions brands don’t always answer properly. They can add the human bit. The experiment. The note in the margin. The small practical detail that only appears once someone has actually used the thing in their own kitchen.

Because someone searching for real Pinter brewing times probably isn’t just drifting around the indie web looking for quirky little blogs. They probably already own a Pinter. They probably have a brew fermenting somewhere in the house. They probably want to know whether the official brewing times are enough, whether other people are leaving it longer, and whether their beer is about to turn into something drinkable or something they’ll quietly pour down the sink.

In other words, they’re not browsing. They’re trying to solve a problem.

And that might explain the DuckDuckGo thing better than my original “boho indie web” theory.

If you’re searching for something like Pinter brewing times, Google can feel a bit noisy. You get adverts, shopping results, official pages, old forum posts, and content that may or may not have been written by someone who has ever actually brewed the thing. But a person searching on DuckDuckGo might be looking for something a bit more direct. Less polished. Less commercial. More “has a real person tried this, and what happened?”

That’s exactly what my Pinter page is.

It isn’t a sales page. It isn’t a polished guide written to shift units. It’s just me, my own batches, my own brewing times, and my own attempts to work out what makes the beer better.

There may also be a crossover between the kind of person who homebrews with a Pinter and the kind of person who uses DuckDuckGo. Gadget-loving hobbyists. Tech-minded professionals. DIY types. People who like tinkering with things at home and finding their own way through a problem rather than simply accepting the official version.

Which, now I think about it, is basically me.

I like gadgets. I like brewing beer at home. I like fiddling with things until they work better. I also decided to build my digital garden on Blogger, which is not exactly the obvious choice in 2026, so perhaps I’m not in the strongest position to accuse anyone else of avoiding the conventional route.

There’s a search engine quirk in there too. DuckDuckGo has its own crawler and uses a number of sources, but its regular web results are largely sourced from Bing. When I looked a little closer at my Umami dashboard, Bing was performing fairly well too, with around 6.5% of all traffic.

So perhaps my little garden, or at least that Pinter page, has found a comfortable home in that particular part of the search world, while Google continues to stand outside, peering through the hedge, deciding whether anything here is worth indexing properly.

I quite like that. For me, Google can keep looking and wondering.

The DuckDuckGo traffic doesn’t necessarily mean my garden is being discovered by wandering citizens of the indie web. Not entirely, anyway. It might simply mean that practical people, searching with slightly different tools, are finding a practical page that gives them something useful.

And honestly, that might be better, because the more I think about it, the more a digital garden should work like that. It shouldn’t just be a place for grand thoughts and half-finished essays. It should also be a place where one oddly specific note, written from real experience, helps someone else at exactly the right moment.

Maybe that’s the real point here ... not that DuckDuckGo users are all indie web romantics. Not that my garden has suddenly become a destination for privacy-conscious digital wanderers. But that a page about brewing times, written by someone who has actually brewed the beer, can still cut through.

Even if it does so via DuckDuckGo and not Google!

And honestly, I’ll take that any day for my tiny little digital garden.