Pleasantly tired

Just got back from a little run with Sophie.

It was lovely - we went through the park, up to the ridge of the hill (Sophie says she feels like a rabbit when we go along that bit, tired from all the hopping), back down through the woods, round the duckpond, past the allotments, through the fields, past the horses and along the footpath back home.

Reminds me of the Bears In the Night book I loved so much as a five year old.

It's not yet five, but the sun set twenty minutes ago, which makes me feel that it's time to start cooking, even though none of us is hungry yet. I think I am programmed to start thinking about dinner as the sun sets. This is why I want to start cooking before 3.30 in winter (when I'm still at work) and can't bear to begin till 9.30 or 10 at the height of summer.

Tomorrow my parents arrive; they'll be spending two nights with us. I spent today marking and doing lesson prep; still got quite a bit to do before they arrive... and I suppose I should probably do a spot of cleaning as well... I need more hours in each day. How I wish I could give up sleep... If I did, that would make two of us, as poor Bobby is not sleeping well at the moment. He's very stressed about this weekend's implementation, so he struggles to fall asleep, and is awake by 4 every morning. His curse (and blessing) is that he really cares about what he does, to the extent that it affects his health at times. I hate it when he's so stressed while I'm on holiday - knowing that he's miserable makes it impossible for me to feel completely happy.