I’ve just remembered I agreed to write a piece for the newsletter. The deadline is tomorrow morning. I still have to prepare lunch for 12 following a meeting which I’m chairing tomorrow.

Everyone else who writes for the newsletter has something specific to talk about except the chairman. I sort of say “jolly good show, isn’t it all splendid, carry on chaps” and I can’t bear that sort of thing. I like a specific thing to talk about. Worse, by the time everyone gets the sodding newsletter I won’t even be chairman or on the committee any longer.

Maybe that second glass of wine was a mistake?

No, if not driving a second glass of wine is a benefit. Give me a purposeful half hour and I’ll have done it.

Then I’ll cook lunch.

Hope the weather’s good. I’m a bit truly fucked if I have to clear the dining room as well.

I meant to do some cooking, but it’s been too hot. I’m not sure what I’ll feed my guests on tomorrow. I’ve cooked a piece of ham and a chicken and I intended to buy a salmon from the fishmonger today, but he didn’t arrive. His van must have broken down. Not much use if he arrives in the middle of my meeting tomorrow. I don’t know what to replace it with (the salmon, that is) but I suppose I’ll come up with something.

I cleaned the house; at least, some of it – this house is never clean and tidy all through at the same time – last week and it is filthy again. I should have left it and done it all in one go.

However, what I have done is a fairly big attack on the garden. Dave will be surprised when he comes next (this is Dave the Bricklayer. The Fellow has moved house), though not as surprised as he’d be if he were not forewarned. Of course, if the position was reversed, I would not be surprised at all. I am entirely unobservant and would not see any difference.

Now it’s 4 o’clock and I have a lot of shopping, mostly for wine and salad, to do. Then I have to spend the rest of the day cooking and cleaning. However, I have mowed the lawn. I didn’t enjoy it at all – unlike Dave, I rather like a lawn, but I don’t appreciate cutting it. But now, having bought an electric lawnmower, it is my job, at least I can do it when I want to without having to mention it politely to the Sage.

Ro has taken his car off the road for a while – he’s not moving until the weekend, but one of his colleagues will give him a lift from about 2 miles from here. From near the famous Chicken Roundabout, in fact. I’ve lent him my bike for the week.

There are more and more rabbits about. They are in the field and the drive all day, as well as during the night. They hardly bother to run away any more from us, especially the babies. I don’t mind at all, now that I’ve got my beans netted.

I was scything this morning when a friend arrived to see the Sage (he was not called Dave. Neither of them is). They stood chatting, and when I stopped work the friend greeted me “Did I just hear a scythe of relief, Z?”

Oh dear. I’ve just remembered I’ve got a meeting at 5.30. My plans have just gone further awry.