Sunday

One of those strange days when it's not exactly cold - but not exactly warm, very damp and muggy - and with extraordinarily low levels of light, depressingly dark at 9am. AL Kennedy is on the radio - she believes every word she says. As an aside to last nights mention of the Liverpool pub poet, I did some checking and he's still active, which is a good thing.

Didn't go out last night in the end, watched a film about a group of people trapped in the basement of a New York apartment block after a nuclear attack. There were no light moments and they all went mad in the end.

My house is a mess. It's astonishing that it can descend into chaos in just a few days. I'm going to spend part of today making it habitable again, and then do some work. I was going to watch The History Boys again later - but something keeps trying to remind me that I didn't really like it the first time around - can't quite put my finger on what it was. They are doing that thing on the radio where they go through the news, serious bits made facile by adding stupid bits in between. One of the commentators is Nicola Horlick. Why?

I still have 3 giant courgettes from last week, they are staring back at me from the kitchen, waiting for me to make the first move.