Took the children back home today after they’d stayed overnight. They are just a delight, both of them. Affectionate, fun, they are just a joy to be around. Bertie the cat loves them and is very happy to be approached and stroked immediately by them, which is not the case with most other people. She also settles down by their toys, waiting for them to come and play.

Unfortunately, though, the little one was fully dressed, sitting on the stairs, waiting for Grandad to “come back from his walk” at 2.30 this morning, when my younger daughter (26) and her chappie came home, three parts to the wind, from a night out. However, thanks to the resources of the daughter, all was resolved, even though it meant her standing on the bunk ladder, reading a book (by torchlight) in whispers, bladdered. Not quite the perfect end to the perfect evening. New plan for next time they stay . . . leave our bedroom door open! “Grandad” does go for a walk every morning, but not until about 6 am.

Came home from dropping them off and both hubby and I had an afternoon sleep. Both retired, neither of us exactly in the first flush of youth, so it’s an essential rather than a luxury. I have always needed a lot of sleep, particularly since my first baby, who fed every two hours all day and all night for a very long time indeed.

So retirement suits me well, even though, or even especially because, it’s medical retirement. I’ve been at home for eight years now, and for two years off sick from work before that. Now I can sleep whenever I need to, and it’s wonderful. Each day I try to do something, even if it’s something very small, like, say, walk round the garden, or slightly bigger, like, say, make a cake. Just so I have achieved something, however trivial.

Cold, grey and wet today. But then it is November.

I’m very tired – no change there then. But have no plans until Thursday this week when it’s hairdo day. Part of my upkeep and maintenance programme, which includes hairdo, pedicure, and visits to the hospital doctor, dentist, osteopath and chiropodist – all absolutely vital. Without all of them, regularly, I would disappear into a little puddle.