Ah, there you are. So, how are things? At the moment I'm watching Dr Who with my exceedingly tired kids (they were up at five to wave goodbye to their dad, and unlike me, didn't sensibly go straight back to sleep again afterwards). I'm husbandless again. He's off sailing in the North Sea (lucky old him, I'm sure it won't be chilly at all up there). Then when he comes back he's almost immediately off on exercise somewhere, so we're all just having to get used to life without Major Fearnly-Bumsaw. The good news is that with him away it's back to school dinners and hot dogs in front of the telly for supper (cue cheers all round). How absolutely lovely it is not to have to be making tuna mayonnaise at ten o'clock at night for sandwiches that I can almost guarantee will end up in the dog's bowl eventually. Oh, and talking of Dog, he's just cost us about a million quid this week with his unspecified ailments. I do love the hairy old mutt, but I could have had a long weekend in Italy with the amount we've just spent on a canine version of ibruprofen (do they not make generic copies of drugs for dogs?). In a futile attempt to make up for all the cash we're chucking at the family pet, I've decided to make chutney from the windfall apples in the garden. I've never made chutney before, but it was dead easy and made me feel (for one brief, sweet, moment) like a slightly less sultry and voluptuous version of Nigella Lawson. Except that when she has hot windfall chutney running down her chin she probably looks pouty and alluring, whereas I just look like a dribbling old skinflint. Cheerio x