Tongue.

Caught my train by the skin of my teeth this morning. I was busy tidying; the owner of our house is coming over on Thursday to work on a few unfinished bits, and since M goes offshore on Wednesday to witness a cement job and will be distracted by packing and preparing, I wanted the house to look nice before I left. It was spotless by the time I ran out the door in a whirlwind of panic - I'd only got 15 minutes to get to the station, pick up my ticket and get on the train.

I arrived in Harrogate at 4 o'clock and Dad picked me up. When I got home, Mum had made a pot of cullen skink which was hugely appreciated, then we had a catch up before dinner. I was shattered after the journey - I'd been working on my laptop all the way down - so we just spent the evening watching TV and drinking coffee. Mollydog likes to zip up onto the chair the minute your bum leaves the seat to get a drink or answer the phone. She then falls so deeply asleep that it's quite difficult to rouse her, even if you pull her little pink tongue.