I was hugely relieved this morning, after I'd ripped up some lino and floorboard, to discover that the water that had suddenly started dripping through the kitchen light fitting was a stupid upstairs mistake of my own, not a between-ceiling-and-floor plumbing disaster/burst pipe. Very odd that the source of the leak was my ultra-reliable, rarely used, 25-year-old clothes dryer, since I was in the middle of writing a text offering it to the friend who's going to let me her attic flat while my house is being rebuilt. 

Once I'd pushed the condensing reservoir back into place and the drips had stopped I went to the office (I have stuff I must get sorted before the week starts tomorrow and I have run out of my data allowance at home). Very odd that as soon as I arrived another friend called to ask whether the office opens on Sundays as she had some warm winter coats to drop off for cold refugees. No, I said. But yes.

Work mostly done, I cycled up Rose Hill for a walk down to the lock with a third friend.

No picture inspiration today.