It's always nice, when you think you've successfully managed to keep three cats alive for two weeks, to be woken up at 4am on your last night by the sound of a cat choking to death on the landing. It's even nicer when Lisa reacts by screaming "Don't open the door!" and hiding under the duvet. But despite her conviction that opening the bedroom door would result in an instant attack from some kind of devil-cat with a death wish, I bravely ventured out and faced the hideous beast. Or Oscar, as we've come to know him.

To be honest, he was just sitting at the top of the stairs purring, and after a ten minute search of the house, I eventually found Timmy on a shelf, but if you'd heard the hellish noise they were making, you'd have been scared too. I was actually quite brave. And I didn't even put my socks on.

Anyhoo, talking of hellish things, Lorraine's back. Having told us she'd return between midday and 1pm, she phoned at 10:30am to say she'd be there in half an hour. And she was. I barely had time to clear the fridge. But it meant we were able to enjoy two hours of unscheduled holiday chat with both Lorraine and her parents, which was obviously much better than sticking to our original plan of making a quick getaway before they arrived.

Anyway, I'm happy to report that Lorraine had a good time, and the cruise ship only picked up one boat load of asylum seekers off the coast of Spain.

Talking of foreigners, having watched The X Factor with Lisa's mother last night, I learnt an important fact. Apparently we don't have to feel sorry for the black singers who didn't make it through to the final twelve, because "dark people don't get so upset, do they". I'm told it's because they've had a hard life, and therefore "they're used to disappointment". There's a certain logic in that. I've always thought Kriss Akabusi seemed quite cheerful.

Anyhoo, I'm off home tonight, but before that Lisa and I are heading into town to meet Melee & James, who are venturing down to Brighton for an evening with John Hegley. It's nine months since we last met them, so I've had time to get over the karaoke and Pop Quiz debacle, but I will be having a serious word with James about his lack of blogging. Unless they bring us marmalade again.