Sock stealing

Mad dreams. My fishes had all bred and I needed to find a new tank for the fry before they were eaten. Found myself on a farm full of huge stampeding cattle. Then on a tractor that tipped over breaking my leg, but nobody would believe it was broken. I then punched a belligerent man's face and woke up. Exhausting.

Crumpets and coffee with Mum and Mas. I asked Mas if he had experience post traumatic stress after returning from Korea, and he said he hadn't. He'd been a US Marine sniper. He said the people he shot at appeared so small they might have been fleas.

I met Jana for the first time this morning, who on holiday from the Czech Republic was coming around to go for a walk with Mum. Very pleasant and funny woman, and I was sorry I had to rush off.

I decided to walk to Mill Hill because I am porcine. Typical to hit a fat peak shortly before being on stage and launching books etc. Before I left, Mum gave me a folder full of pictures of Skelton Yawngrave characters, which should come in handy for my wheezes and schemes.

Home on the train listening to the Girl with the dragon tattoo.

Home found myself looking at a ball of socks. One of several that Calliope, registering her disapproval of being left alone, had distributed about the house. She'd also savaged the toilet paper roll too but was soon appeased by prawns. A million things to do, after a spot of shopping, and I simply got on with them.

Below a line of light at St Pancras station.