Unclear

Up at seven, seeing the world through the fog of a streaming cold, working from home on a big website about blood clotting. The world outside my study window, was misty first thing and rather beautiful. I had Bob Marley's song Misty Morning in my head for the first hour or so.

Mum's operation was scheduled, we thought, for today, but it did not happen. I feeling bad that she was there and I was in Brighton. She may have the operation tomorrow, but hard and fast information difficult to come by, and Mase phoning repeatedly to establish what is happening.

Mase has a cold too, and as well as Mum being in hospital, is at a critical time in his deal, which is falling into the usual pattern of the other parties are behaving dubiously as the deadline looms.

I stopped work at 5:30 revelling in the fact I was at home. Lorraine came over for supper after and we ate chicken and channel hopped.