Rather than reading and eating chocolate in the company of cats, I decided to bake bread yesterday afternoon. And this morning when the boy asked for Shreddies and bananas and refused to eat either, I gave him a homemade roll and cheese instead. “Do you like the bread?” I asked him, and he nodded emphatically. “That’s because Mama made it,” I said. And he proceeded to ignore the cheese (this is big is you know how in love with cheese this kid is) and demolished the whole bun after he had dashed into every room in the house with half a roll in each hand, lifting them up into the air and declaring, “Mama!” before turning to head for another room to repeat the performance. I think I nearly broke HRH when I narrated the action: “Spirits of the kitchen, I present to you this roll, newly baked by Mama! Spirits of the bedroom, I present unto you…”.

My right shoulder is badly inflamed, and I have no clue why. I can only assume it’s from the amount of intense cello-playing there was over Friday and Saturday, but then it ought to have hurt on Sunday or Monday at the latest, not as of Tuesday night. I’ll have to pick up some Advil while we’re out for lunch.

Can everyone please think colder? This warmth and the rain they’re calling for over the weekend just won’t do.