At least someone's sleeping well at the moment...


She's so much less trouble when she's in bed. If only I could say the same for Lisa. We'd barely got under the duvet last night when she was physically sick. Possibly at the sight of me naked. I had to run to the bathroom for a bucket before I was swept away on a wave of vomit. It was all very sudden, so it could be anxiety, or possibly pregnancy, but knowing our luck, it'll be a summer bout of winter vomiting virus.

After a disturbed night, I was in Crowborough today, visiting my fourth hospital in three days. So if you're wondering where the NHS budget's going, it's on my travel expenses. The good news is that my routine is helping to educate Amelie. Every time she hears the word 'hospital', she now says "Daddy!". It's a nightmare if we're trying to watch Holby City.

Anyway, Crowborough is my kind of place. All the men turn up in suits, the women arrive in pearls, and I parked next to brand new Jag in the car park. As a naturally classy person, I fit right in. I could describe the place in detail, but a picture paints a thousand words, so here's a photo I took on my walk into the town centre at lunchtime...


It's the only town I know with a ride-on lawnmower shop.

And I apologise for the dreadful state of my camera lens. I don't know who's responsible, but frankly it's got Amelie's fingerprints all over it.