Fog and barbed wire – that’s what my brain feels like. This morning I wrote three lines in an hour and half, then went to the supermarket. This afternoon I have to tidy the sitting room, cos m’husband has people coming round at 5.30, make sausage rolls and sort out various class paraphenalia and phone calls. I could do without this. I cannot talk to m’sister, as she is hiding depression and unable to cope with me, so she is very abrupt a lot of the time. I can understand why she needs to avoid stressors, but it hurts that one of them is me. I would also, possibly, be more understanding if she was actually doing something, like eating properly or drinking enough fluid, to manage her mental state, rather than doing her best to ignore it. But then that’s me and my ways of coping speaking. Hers are very different.

Here’s something lovely: the lily which came into flower whilst we were away for a few days last week, and greeted us with its magnificence and smell when we arrived home on Sunday.

I love this lily; it makes me think of an Italian ice cream. M’husband is not so keen; he started sneezing and having watery eyes shortly after we got home, and he only finds relief when he’s at work. I could move it further from the house, I suppose, but I like to see it waving and nodding at me as I look out of the back door.