My cat has cold-shouldered me for a fortnight now. I was away in Wales for a week, came back on Wednesday, brought grand baby Perdita back for the day on Thursday and was away that night, returning the next night with Perdita and her brother, who stayed until Sunday. ECat has not forgiven me. I’m being kind but unyielding. I shared my dinner with her (she’s not ignoring me to that extent) but ignored her when she stood on my computer table and purred for snacks tonight. She’d had snacks and she’s quite fat enough. Now she’s demanded to go outside and I don’t expect to see her before breakfast time. Cats forget their loved ones if they don’t constantly remind themselves. I’ve got too much else to think about.

We had two exceptional evenings out at the local theatre, where they sometimes show films. I hadn’t seen One Life before; the story of Nicholas Winton, who – not without help from brave friends, one of whom did not survive the Nazi takeover – saved hundreds of children, mostly Jewish, before the last war. If you saw the Esther Rantzen That’s Life programme when the whole audience was made up of those people, you’ll never have forgotten it and the film did him justice.

Last night, there was a live-streamed performance from the Royal Opera House. The opera company and the ballet company share performances equally through the season and they’re going to reflect that with a change of name. I’m not sure if the RBOH will quite take off, though it’s a slightly puzzling acronym, but anyway, it’s was ballet’s turn last night.

Until last year, I never quite got ballet. But Don Quixote won me over and it’s changed my perception of the art. This time, it was a quite new ballet: The Winter’s Tale, from Shakespeare’s play that’s mostly remembered by ‘exit, pursued by a bear.” It was fabulous. It was first performed 10 years ago and Hermione, in that series of performances, coached the dancers in this. Joby Talbot wrote the music, which I must look up to hear again, because it was impressive. The dancing was wonderful and the staging and production made one of Shakespeare’s lesser plays into something far better.

Today, I’ve been getting ready for the weekend. It’ll be a simple meal, I’m reverting to a cold lunch. I’ll serve salad Niçoise, cold roast beef and ham, with other salads and cheeses and various desserts. When Wince put up the big gazebo today, we discovered that the small tear in the canopy had been a precursor of almost complete breakdown. Luckily, it had the name of the company printed on the side, so I’ve ordered a new one. For a fairly substantial price (no cheaper option) they’ve offered next-day delivery, so I’ve told my guests that they’ll have to put on the new cover, please. They seem to have taken it well.