Back when I was at primary school, we each wrote in a book each Monday with our news of the weekend – accompanied by a picture.

While tidying up in the hallway last night I discovered an envelope with my name on it tucked down the side of the window in the hallway.

Where does the time go?

Time is a funny thing.

It’s 10am on Sunday morning, and the house is unexpectedly quiet – which makes me wonder what kind of shit-show is about to unfold.

The bathroom still isn’t finished.

I woke a little after 7 this morning, told the radio to shut-up, then fell back asleep.

If there is a creator in the universe, he/she/it has obviously noticed my occasional dissent, and started making moves to put me in my place.

It’s been three years since I last took any time off sick – which is remarkable, I suppose.

After getting up this morning and feeling decidedly second-hand (thanks go to my children for bringing the latest round of the lurgy home), I fired up my work computer and posted a note to the wider team that I would answer any immediate questions and then sign off for the day.