Lego

You never grow out of Lego.

Chris looked on enviously and said he remembers it being therapeutic. That's why I knit and sew, I replied. It keeps me calm. There was a beat as we both became aware that I knew he was thinking, 'Christ, what on earth would she be like if she stopped knitting?'

Spent a lot of today cooking and freezing food for my mum for after her operation. She is very proud and independent and sensitive to being treated as 'old' and Chris wondered if she might be offended. I told him that I had worked so hard that if she did get offended I would throw it all at her head.

Perhaps I need to get knitting out!

Still no Phelps. Chris got up at five this morning to look for him while it was quiet.

I thought I saw him in the back alley this afternoon. I went belting out of the front door and down the street to the side gate in my slippers and a bright red apron with Queen if the Kitchen emblazoned on the front, rattling a box of Whiskas and shrieking, 'Phelpsie! Phelpsie!!!' I think I have gone mad. My lovely neighbour, Corrine, dog walker and animal lover extraordinaire, was in her front garden and didn't bat an eyelid, bless her. Not even when I came back picking twigs and cobwebs out of my hair and crying. It wasn't him.

We've leafletted about 60 houses and put up about 20 posters but not a single response. Terrible rain again last night. David, our postman has asked all the local posties to look out for him. It's been five days now.