This morning, Watson woke me up by dropping on me like a bag of bricks. Mark had forgotten to close the door to the bedroom when he went to the loo, and Watson saw his chance to jump into our bed. And, of course, he couldn’t let a sleeping human lie there in peace. And of course, Mark had to reward the little blighter for his crimes against me.

I find communicating with animals is best when there’s a shared message that doesn’t deviate. Like small children, our pets know how to play us against each other. If I say no, they go to Mark to see if he says yes. Well, apart from George the cat who does whatever he wants, and doesn’t listen to anything we say. He would scoff if we suggested that we had any say.

Our rules are clear – no animals in our bedroom. That’s been the case for years. Besides, if I want a good snog, there’s nothing worse than having a leering witness, is there?


Auntie came over today to say that she didn’t see enough of me these days, and would I mind lending her a couple of bottles of wine. She is having some people over, and had completely forgotten to buy any. It is nice that my little stash is still a source of spontaneous pillaging. I look at the ‘collection’, and all I have left are bottles that’s been there for years, and which will probably never be drunk.

Family contacts come in pulses, I’ve found. For days, there’s not a word. Then, suddenly, everyone is one the phone or in the hall and want something from us. So, after Auntie left with the few good bottles from my stash, Mother rang and asked me to go to Ellie’s grave and check on it. We’ll do that next weekend.

After, dad rang to see how we were doing. He also wanted to tell us that his new woman-friend would move in with him. Honestly, I thought she already had. It’s not like it’s my business anyway. But, can you call a 45-year-old woman a ‘girl friend’? Anyway, I’m left wondering if they’ll get married, and I’m left wondering if I should feel weird about that.


I installed our copy of Fallout 4 on a laptop, and used that to play. Mark and I almost started to bicker about whose turn it was to use the good desktop gaming system we have. He though I had spent too much time with the game this weekend, and wanted to have a go. Instead of arguing, I just installed it on the laptop and played with that.

It gave me an opportunity to sneer in a superior fashion about his aging iMac. It’s a few years old, and while our desktop is a couple of years old, we’ve recycled the important parts of it. Something you can’t really do with a Mac.

Next weekend will be a lot more hectic. On Saturday, Mark’s faculty has a formal, and we will have to attend with suits and (almost) cravats. As his partner, I will have to smile and look pretty and try to follow the conversation without drooling like an imbecile. On Sunday we’re going to a Stephen-party. It will almost be like old times then. Did we ever really grow up?