Cycling Fish and other stories: “It always happens. A bout of genuine creativity and writerly inspiration is stymied by the re-emergence of my social life. So, tonight I’m at Ronnie Scott’s – I wasn’t too keen and tried to get out of it, but then I found out that Mr P had paid 25 quid for the ticket and I can’t in all conscience pull out now. Oh well, I’ll write that up, if it’s OK with you guys.

Tomorrow is R’s hen night – dog racing in Wimbledon followed by dancing at the Grand. I definitely can’t do two nights out in a row, so I’m not going. N is coming over to ours for an evening of football, curry and geeky maths discussions with Mr P. The nearest they’ll ever get to a Lads Night Out, I think.

Sunday is the cricket. Or it might not be. South Africa’s glorious trouncing of our former colonial masters might be put off by rain. But as it’s Dad’s birthday treat, I still have to make koeksusters.

Monday is the midwife visit – so I will be a wizened shell by then, and she’ll tell me off for overdoing it. Then Weds I have yoga, with N & R coming for dinner.

Next weekend is Iain’s makeover (heh) and we have to meet up with our favourite parent friends because we haven’t seen them all summer (except D turned up at about 9.30pm yesterday, but we were both in bed – very embarrassing).

I would try writing on week nights, but I’m so tired that the most I can do is rustle up dinner and sleep. “

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