A few days in the cotswolds to the most colourful rooms I could find, bookshops, a lucky hare, my baby nephew, Jeremy Clarkson’s runny eggs. I’m halfway through chemotherapy now, seventy five per cent through having my children around for the summer, two hundred pages into a novel I don’t want to end, a third of my hair has fallen out. I’m nearly there with a social work project, 20,000 words down on a second novel, one hundred per cent into salty tomatoes with basil and olive oil 🍃 I get six days between chemo rounds to recover and it’s interesting what you choose to fill those with, in a slight panic because you know it’s going to end. There’s a lot of chat about rest but no one tells you how to force yourself to like it. Ten small spinning plates means you can ignore the stupid big one. Runny eggs in lots of baskets is way more fun 🍳