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Saturday, October 22, 2005

It is chilly and rainy and I would like to have a bath and then climb into bed with my book, but I can't, because Stephen is here and will probably appreciate a lift home in a few hours. He was very gung-ho about walking the couple of miles home when I dropped him off earlier this evening but, since I strongly suspect that he will not feel nearly as enthusiastic about the idea when he eventually emerges into the dark wet cold, I'm expecting a "please could you pick me up" phone call later on.

We definitely can't have any more babies. In fifteen years time I will be way too old and cranky to wait up till all hours for gallivanting teens.

Tomorrow is the one day of the week that Steve can sleep in (he doesn't do his paper round on Sundays). He's very organised about it all, I must say - he gets up on his own, eats, potters around for a while, and has left before any of the rest of us has even managed to stagger into the shower. He seems to enjoy having the house to himself in the early mornings; I think he finds it soothing.

He and Bobby spent this afternoon at a football match - Crystal Palace versus someone or other. They both enjoyed it, Stephen I think for the football itself, Bobby more for the pleasure of satisfying a sort of anthropological curiosity. It all sounds very well organised. Bobby was amazed that, with 20 000 odd people at the match, it only took five minutes or so for the two of them to get out of the stadium when the game had finished.

Going downstairs to see if Bobby would like some coffee ...

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