Bertie's lesson for the day: Do NOT, under any circumstances, run on to the railway line. You will be yelled at and have to spend the rest of the walk on a tight leash.

I did some grocery shopping and carried another couple of dozen CDs downstairs. Everything is filthy and disordered. Bertie's duvet cover is muddy and covered in dog hair and crumbs, and so is the floor (we had a long, involved argument about whether he was going to eat his DentaBone on the persian rug or on the duvet). The study is still a tip. The bed is still broken (did I mention the bed broke?) and the broken bits are still lying where they fell, the pot plants are drying out, the spare bedroom is a storage dump, the bathroom floor is covered in muddy clothes. And it's only been a week! In a month they'll call the environmental health people in with masks and rubber gloves.

Tomorrow Anthea and I are going to Ikea to sort our lives out. It promises pretty much that in the catalogue. The people look so happy, their houses are lickably clean. All their stuff is organised. All we need is shelves, and the rest will follow.