There were a couple of ‘blah’ days this week. I guess I was worn out from the long drive south, all that emotional energy spent, the socialising, swimming in the salt-water pools, watching albatross soaring so easily after flying hundreds of kilometres, relaxing with sea views…

However, I hit the ground running yesterday. Two loads of washing, vacuuming, and supermarket shopping filled the morning. My mojo’s back! Even this morning I’m getting ready to wash the floors – and there’s more washing on the line.

In the afternoon I searched the internet for a copy of A Book of Noises by Caspar Henderson and found that it was available at the University Book Shop. I’d read a review of it in the Listener. The review mentioned that there’s hardly any sound in space, although the author wittily wrote, “Except, perhaps, for the occasional billionaire shouting ‘Whee!'”

I drove to the University and squeezed into a tight angle park. My front wheel was a bit over the line into the neighbouring space, but I didn’t bother straightening up, thinking I’d only be a minute, and my energy levels were dictating that I keep moving.

Of course, I was in there for more like 30 minutes. There’s so much to see, and I came out with six books, not one.

There was a piece of paper under my windscreen wiper. A flier about some student activity, I thought. But, no. This made me laugh out loud:

Felix is also back on form – much more laid back than I am – and with the habit of occupying my chair if I happen to leave it for a moment. He’s an expert at looking instantly relaxed (although his tail puffed up to four times its normal size yesterday morning when, having followed me to the gate, he was surprised by the near silent approach of a passing jogger).

Now, where’s that mop and bucket?