Had a rough-ish spell for most of September which was PURELY lack-of-sleep related. Bear started pre-school at the beginning of the month, which coincided with him deciding to wail going to bed, at midnight, 1am, 3, 5 (you get my drift), then up at 6 farking am every day for almost three blooming weeks. I felt tearful and finished off most of those days I can tell you!

Things are better now, and I know worse things happen at sea.

Bear turns 3 on Monday. I'm going to cobble together a cake while he's at pre-school in the morning, which will include constructing little cars made of Celebration chocolates, Smarties wheels, and hacked-in-half jelly baby drivers! What's not to be scarred for life by!

The following Monday I am due to be back in London for work, job-sharing a three-week long arbitration. I feel oddly not worried, more concerned that I won't be able to work in my cosy, cosy slippers any more. And that I won't be 10 feet away from the fridge. There are ALWAYS biscuits at arbitrations though...on communal platters...for any grimy old hand to reach out and take. I actually wonder if, in these Covid times, they don't just issue you your own wrapped up biscuit portion as you enter the building now. I can't wait to find out!

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