I don’t want to have to admit it, but I think that the answer to being tired is to be busier. The more I do, the more buzz I get. The less I do, the more tired I feel, so I want to do less. Being fundamentally lazy, this isn’t great news, but the lesson is still there to be learnt.

I shifted a few barrowloads of compost – I didn’t count, but not all that many because I don’t want to ginger up my back – and fetched in logs and did housework. I’ve also mislaid my car keys and am bemused.

Rose asked if some of her stuff could be stored here, which is quite all right, I’ve got an almost empty garage. The delivery guys arrived after dark, so I had the bright idea of bringing my car so that the headlights illuminated the area, which would be much better than a torch.

So I grabbed the spare key and drove along and angled the car to show the area without shining the headlights into our eyes. It was fine. One guy put the boxes at the back of the van, the other one and I shifted them into the garage. Then we shut the door and I got back into the car. It had switched off and said that no key was detected, which was a surprise. But I ran up to the house, fetched my handbag with the key and restarted the car. I assumed the key was in the car somewhere and didn’t think any more about it.

I can’t find it anywhere and, having been busy, I can’t remember the exact course of events. I thought I’d simply left the key in the car. Second thing was to have had it in my pocket. Third was to have had it on my lap and it fell off when I got out. None of these, apparently. I haven’t got a plan 4 – but it can’t be far away, so I’ll just have to search until I find it. I’ve got a Tile thing on the car key, but not on the spare key.

I had a phone call this afternoon from the company that insures the caravan. There were various questions that I can’t answer. The year that the caravan was manufactured? I’ve written to the site manager because I assume he’ll have all the info from when Tim bought and installed it. I only know that it was between 7 and 14 years, which doesn’t much help. The silly thing is that the company has the information but can’t carry it forward because I am not on the insurance policy except as Tim’s executrix, not in my own right. Data protection isn’t intended for this. But I’ll either get the info or I won’t. Tim must have paid out thousands for insurance without a claim, over the years. It’s trivial, really.

I’m off to have a bike ride on Tuesday and I’m very excited. I love motorbikes and it’s a shame that I couldn’t take up riding, which is better than pillion. But I won’t do it now. Just too late in my life.