25th January 2011 

Today, I finally conquered the allotments. The last section put up quite the fight, completely overrun with mint that behaves like couch grass, only more devious. Look at it the wrong way and it snaps, leaving its roots lurking underground, plotting revenge. I think I’ve dug most of it out, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it starts sending me threatening letters in spring.

The small shed on one allotment has been repositioned to somewhere far more sensible, and the shed imported from Newark now stands proudly on the other. I must say, I’m feeling rather chuffed with myself; it’s been a long, hard, and frequently interrupted slog. Now all that remains is to plant something. I’ve already ordered potatoes and artichokes for the spring.

Last Saturday I refereed in Loughborough. If Charlotte had still been living in Newark, I would have dropped in after the match and made a night of it. Instead, I returned to Harborough just in time to see Sue and Charlotte heading off to the Film Club. The film “wouldn’t appeal” to me. Translation: “We don’t want you there making sarcastic comments.” So, I settled in for an episode of Lost in Space on the media centre, accompanied by a bottle of beer and a bag of peanuts, while Sarah revised in her room.

I’d seen Roger Woolnough the day before, and he seemed in good spirits. Later, Charlotte came over for a reflexology session with Doreen next door, and then joined us for a Thai green curry, one of my finest culinary moments, if I may say so. Suraj was meant to collect her and the boys afterwards, but he was stuck in London, having been there to support his sister in a custody hearing. His car broke down on the way home, and the AA, after a leisurely delay, eventually fixed it, just minutes before I arrived with Charlotte.

On the way home through Braybrooke, I decided to stop at Roger’s for a coffee. His sister had arrived earlier, after enduring a ten-hour bus journey from Bristol (courtesy of traffic chaos), and promptly fell asleep on the settee. Meanwhile, Roger revealed that romance had entered his life; he’d met a woman from Sheffield while on holiday in Cyprus. All was going well until Roger, true to form, managed to muddy the waters, and she’s now gone quiet. I gave him some no-nonsense Yorkshire advice. Whether he acts on it is another matter entirely.

Sue took Brigitte to see Charlotte’s house on Friday. Brigitte thoroughly enjoyed the outing and, by all accounts, talked non-stop the entire time.

Sarah has now sat two of her exams. She said Sociology went well, but today was Geography, and her timing was spectacularly unlucky. She’d felt sick yesterday, woke up the same this morning, and ended up throwing up a couple of times during the exam, and again when I brought her home. She’s now bundled up, complaining of coldness and aches. Still, she soldiered on and completed the paper. Friday is Psychology, and I’m helping her revise each evening, though I can’t help wishing she’d chosen something a bit closer to the Biology, Chemistry, and Physics I took. School these days seems to be endless tests piled on top of degree-level syllabuses.

We’re seeing less of Jamie lately; he’s not always here for tea, and he’s clearly enjoying his independence. Apparently, he had a party the other night, which Charlotte discovered through Facebook (Sue’s “reliable news source” of choice).

NEWSFLASH: Jamie just texted to say he’s unwell. I went over to find him curled up on the floor, shivering and feeling sick, clearly the same bug that’s hit Sarah. I brought him home, and now the pair of them are in the lounge, wrapped in blankets, armed with hot water bottles, and positioned near buckets (for “emergency overspill”). The good news is, at least there won’t be any nappies to change tonight… I hope.