Not much of a day, accomplishment-wise. [Does that turn of phrase derive from Jack Lemmon in "The Apartment"?] A few more rounds on the stripey hat. Alexander came to see us and was rewarded with two wrapped and labelled Christmas presents. That’s about it. No cards. No walk.

Chloe, thank you for your concern. I did see a dr in the summer – she listened to heart and lungs and took “bloods” and apparently I’m fine. My current plan is to wait and see how I feel towards the end of Lent – will I be better off without Weston’s Vintage Cider? That could well be the case. (Ash Wednesday is March 1 next year, I have just discovered: the perfect day.)

And if abstinence does not produce sprightliness, I will then approach a doctor and ask about stopping blood-thinners, currently not rat poison but something called Aliquis. (Debility is not listed among its side-effects.) I feel rather as I felt in the six months after I had pneumonia in my 50’s, only now it goes on and on and then it got better.

One achievement today: I thought of someone who might possibly be willing to live-in and let me get away for a bit of r&r. I emailed him, he phoned promptly back – he’ll do it. It is someone my husband will be happy with and who, in turn, can keep him in line. Getting my husband into a care home for “respite” sounds like a good idea but is in fact next to impossible.

I’m thinking of taking Perdita to Perthshire in May, most glorious of months, and introducing her to the out-of-doors. I feel increasingly that it is cruel to a cat to deny her that. Another time, perhaps, I could go to Glasgow and see Alexander and Ketki’s house there and suss out the Glasgow yarn shops.

We’re all busy and cross and tired – but I hope, as in other years, to totter on here until the solstice and then declare a holiday hiatus.