Work happened. I was up early for some reason. I think I had a conference call or something like that.

Note: sorry - this is a late entry and I'm just noting down the essentials.

Then I went home and started preparing for a night's painting. This was going to be legendary. We were going to put a coat of paint on the bathroom (taking it up to one coat of bathroom paint) and prime the entirety of the kitchen. I got a call when my friend was nearing the station and I went to get her.

What unfolded was a bloody long night's work, which was followed by a cold night in a sleeping bag in an unheated room for me, while my friend got the comfort of the one working bedroom in the house. She bloody deserved the bed, too. She slogged on my behalf, for which I'm truly grateful.

We got food from M&S in the station and I bought fruit, using my special mantra - "buy fruit, eat fruit, feel good". So we had Jazz, paint and grapes, with the occasional plum, for company.

To describe the process of painting would be dull, much more dull than the results - a lot of very white things. I slept happy that the house was progressing. It was inspiring. A bit of help goes a long way.