Dorothy: Yes, they will go to the Sally Ann as soon as I can open a brown paper bag. What drives me nuts is my dear sister-in-law's refusal to stop buying clothes for her husband who doesn't want them, or to give them to the perfectly good Sally Ann in her own neighbourhood. Why foist them onto us?

Painting continues. Himself's horrible pink office is now the same gentle shade of duck-egg greenish blue (or bluish green) that graces the dining room, and the change reduces the clamour of "God, but I hate that!" rattling around in the sub-basement of my mind. Next is the stairwell, which requires a special ladder. I'm so glad I'm not doing it.

The new curtains are up in the bedroom, and boy do they look great. Thick, cream-coloured inner drapes with sheers made of a soft voile with a herringbone weave, they improve privacy (not that anybody is really looking) and eliminate most of the draught from the windows. Good thing, 'cause they cost the earth.

I have the local cold, and am therefore officially hors de combat. The headache has passed and I'm a little less shaky than I was yesterday, but the cough is reaching for full resonance. It's gonna be no fun for anyone.