A day of sluggish slogging. Lorraine at least able to drive this morning, thanks to her car being fixed. A truncated lunchtime, eating a rice bowl by the canal with chopsticks. Then calling Anton, briefly, and Mum, to arrange for me to use their house like a hotel on Thursday.

Trying to clarify when I'm needed till at work, and it seems I may have an extra few days to do in December. Lots of meetings today, and I finally got the brief I was waiting for, for the last few working days, at 5:30, so I did what I could and stayed for a couple of hours. Home at 9:35 after a taxi from Brighton, so not much of an evening before I went to bed. Lorraine had cooked spaghetti, which is my go to comfort food. Both of us snailed up to bed, too tired even for The Book of Dust.

Cass doing great work in the big bedroom.

Almost finished reading Mister Pip, today, by Lloyd Jones.  A good read, I'd say.