Phasers set to chill. A couple of hours work on my stuff, and then a long overdue chat with Janet, who was just about to call me for advice about buying an iPod, to take on a cruise. She's also getting over a nasty fall on her knee in the garden, but fortunately nothing was broken. But she said being white haired and travelling to a conference with a suitcase and a cane got her lots of spontaneous help from people.

In the afternoon, off to a garden centre with Lorraine where she spent her leaving present of garden centre vouchers on various sombre plants, including one with dark ruby, almost black flowers which was gorgeous, but I can't remember its name. Vulgarly, I bought some orangey yellow marigolds, and a blue pot to put them in.

The garden centre was just outside Ditchling village, and we drove up to the top of Ditchling Beacon for the world's shortest picnic. I got the heebie jeebies again and waves of vertigo, which was all a bit embarrassing. I managed a couple of snaps of the magnificent views. Felt slightly gloomy about this, as it betrays that my background anxiety levels are higher than I thought.

Helping to combat all that, however, a spot of gardening in Lorraine's cat-patrolled garden. She instigated a decisive uprooting of an immense rosemary, and hacking a big patch of woody thyme - these herby atrocities were accompanied by lovely smells, which took me involuntarily to Greece, and memories of walking by sun-baked, thyme-smelling mountains.

Then home and did next to nothing, apart from watch Spielberg's War of the Worlds which, when I don't think of HG Wells, is a movie I quite like. Although as has been joked elsewhere, why Tom Cruise should worry about aliens is a moot point given his belief in Thetans.

Below two views from Ditchling Beacon.