Rockin' the house

Gail phoned late morning to say dad was seriously ill. By the time I got to Middlesbrough, the good news was that he'd recovered from his acute breathing difficulties - and although he was in the High Dependency Unit, he was comfortable and in good spirits.

In the evening, it was good to unwind at Tone's, where we all failed to get anywhere near Dee-Ann's prowess on Guitar Hero.

On the journey down, a Land Rover had skidded, spun round and flipped onto its roof. It all happened right in front of me, with everything seeming to go into slow-motion - thankfully I was able to stop before ploughing into it.

Although the roof was squashed flat, the three guys in it managed to get out OK. I got out to see if I could help - though seeing that one of them was already on his phone, I didn't see what else I could do. Of the other two, one looked completely dazed, while the other kept repeating, "it was black ice, eh. Black ice."