Oh damn, still in this dream.

So...it looks as if I will be moving back to my flat in September, which will be a bit of a relief. We'll "do it up" so the kids can stay there. We shall be co-parenting, and it is all civilised, thank the gods. We shall keep on Kay (the kids nanny) at Dulwich, which will be their main residence, to provide a good sense of continuity for them. So that's another £50k a year on top of the loss of income from the flat. I shall exist on a small subsidy for now.

Anyway, we are doing it the old-fashioned way. We shall not divorce for the sake of the property and the children. We shall live separate lives in nearby establishments where the kids can see each and both of us.

Strangely, since we (ahem) made the decision, Madame has been much nicer, which has made the atmosphere tolerable. Perhaps I should not have agreed with her solution quite so readily, however...

A trifle upsetting nevertheless. But there you go.

These last few weeks I've been a chauffeur.

Barring yesterday I've been driving a friend to hospital every morning for her radiotherapy.

On Friday I went to my hairdresser to get a haircut. Whilst trimming the old Ninefingers' scalp the chap that does noticed that a lump on the back of my head occasioned by an old Rugby injury from my dim-and-distant schooldays some thirty+ years ago had somehow got bigger. He advised me to see a quack about it.

Appointment booked for Thursday afternoon. Hope it's nothing serious, or if it is it will be quick and to the point. Though I do good languishing I'm sure I'd make a poor patient.

So many sins, so little time....

Go well and do good things.