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Le Pomme is away with work. I’ve had a toothsome dinner, and a glass of red wine.

There’s nothing like an early night – climbing into clean sheets, wearing clean jim jams, with your pillows beautifully plumped and ready for you to sink into. A novel to hand, the cat purring, the electric blanket warming my toes, and a cup of tea.

Bliss.

The reality is that the Boodle is shedding tortoiseshell fur all over said clean duvet cover, one of the Petites is snoring next door, the other is likely to wake several times during the night, my novel is actually Gina Ford’s optimistically entitled ‘Potty Training in One Week’, and my tea has gone just a smidgen too cold to be enjoyable.

On the plus side, for now, it’s just me and The Boo. There’s no small being poking a finger into an eye to discover why I’m not playing peek-a-boo.

Long may the silence reign.

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