Thursday 8th October 2020

I awake at half five, and when I put the light on to check the time, there are two kitten faces looking at me to see if the lazy slugabed was actually going to get up.

I was.

I go downstairs, search for dead birds/mice/voles and/or kitty poo. I get one tiny mouse, put that in the bin and begin feeding, starting with the cats, then putting the kitten's food on the stairs, so there is distance at the breakfast table.

I can then make coffee.

It is almost light outside. The clouds had cleared and dawn was well under way, and at six Jools would leave work and drive home.

Coffee is good, and the cats retire to their sleeping places around the house.

Jools gets back at twenty to seven, has a tea and goes straight to be. She will get another near eight hours, so with the bedroom door closed, I am suddenly alone again.

Oh, I forgot something. When Jools went for a shower before going to bed, Poppy brought in a goldfinch, which she refused to drop, and swerves round me and heads upstairs to play with said goldfinch under the bed. I go up, and as I reach out to grab the still-alive bird, she takes it to the other side of the bed. I go round. The bird is playing dead, which is why I was able to pick it up, at which point it realised this was something different and began to struggle again. I carry it to the back door, open it and then my hand. The bird looks around and flies off, Mulder looks up and gives chase, on the ground and the bird is safe and survives again.

And that is the excitement for the day.

Outside it is a fine day, and I really should have gone for a walk, but decide to wait for Jools to get up so we could go together. Only she does not get up until half three, by which tme it is time to do dinner, which is wild boar and chorizo burgers. Which, as you can imagine, are wonderful.

Jools leaves for work at five, to pick up her breakfast and lunch for the shift, leaving me to feed the cats. Again.

Mulder gives me the evil eye as he watches me come in from another photographic walk round the garden, so I snap him.

There is an evening full of football,a nd I tell myself I will have supper at half time, and not before. So I settle down beside Scully to watch England v Wales, both teams made up of neewbies of second stringers, and it was an unfair fight, as England win without breaking sweat 3-0.

At half time I do have cheese and crackers, and a tripel. And another.

I was going to listen to Gideon on the radio, as it was the day for his annual "shedcast", played live, which in this odd year in itself was noteworty. I was going to stay up to midnight, but the early start and a litre of tripel meant I called it a night at half ten.