Friday 17th October 2025
Today has been a still, grey sort of day with a definite chill in the air — properly autumn-like, the kind that makes you think of wool jumpers and mugs of tea. I’ve just come back in from hanging out the washing and my fingers are freezing. I’m not farming today, as Mum is meeting “Mad Linda” for lunch at the local pub, and I’m going along to join them. I’ll have to make my own way there though, since Mum’s off swimming first with Heidi’s mum — she’s the mother of that little girl Mum sometimes looks after during the school holidays.
For a moment, I fancied turning up to the pub in the tractor — something about the idea made me laugh — but in the end Dad and I made a deal. I could borrow his pickup if I left him plenty of food for his lunch. Fair’s fair, I suppose. I kept my side of it, and since he’s my favourite dad and I was grateful for the use of his truck, I even left him the last slice of my Victoria sponge. I just hope he doesn’t get too fond of it, or I’ll have to start hiding my cakes!
Lunch was nice — even Lea came along, as she decided to tag along with Mum after swimming. I didn’t mind; it actually made things feel quite cheerful. I’m not entirely sure Mum felt the same though — I got the sense that Lea had sort of invited herself, and Mum didn’t have the heart to say no. Still, it was easy-going, and there was plenty of chatter and laughter floating about.
By the way, “Mad Linda” isn’t really mad — that nickname’s just to tell her apart from the several other Lindas Mum knows. She’s more a whirlwind of energy, the kind of person who fills every corner of a room. Spend too long with her and it’s you who ends up feeling a bit mad!
That’s about it for today really. I’ve just come upstairs after watching some detective drama on TV — I’d tell you which one, but the name’s slipped my mind and I’m far too comfortable to go looking.
This is the first entry of the firebreak period, and there’s something different about it — lighter somehow. I feel more at ease, more myself. Maybe it’s because I’m not thinking about anyone else reading this right now. It’s like I’ve taken a deep breath and let it out slowly, writing just for me again.
Outside, the night is black and the air is cool and still, the kind that makes the glow of the lamp on my desk feel especially soft. There’s a peaceful sort of freedom in nights like this — nothing pressing, nothing hurried, just the quiet contentment of being where I am.
