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You will begin to think I spend all my evenings drinking in front of the wood burner, but it's not true... and yet here I am again basking in the glow of burning logs, sipping a glass of something red and French from a bottle with a picture of a lovely old horse on the label. And, oh dear, feeling sorry for myself. I am tired and overwrought with work, and now, after the med students tomorrow, I must climb aboard a train heading south and go and visit my Ma, and thence on to visit A even further south. I love them both, but both are currently in need of my ministrations, emotional and possibly physical (well certainly my Ma), and sometimes I just don't know what I have left to give...

It seems to be taking about all I've got to keep my own little ship steady doing five different jobs. Well, two jobs, two schools where I freelance, and a little private practice. But still, five settings, five projects. Five changes of direction every week. (Though not next week as it's half term - hurrah!) It will all, of course, be fine, the train journey giving some gentle transition time, and my Ma taking me out to dinner when I get there, and unlikely really to make massive demands. And I am very glad to be seeing A for the first time since he came out of hospital, to see for myself how he's doing. I know he's having a hard time, but all in all I think he's handling it very well, considering the summer he had. Living independently and studying - things it was hard to imagine him doing only a few weeks ago... And my trip ends with a precious evening in London with dear old friend K, which will be a treat and a chance to debrief as well as catch up.

All is well. But setting out on this journey is inevitably evoking memories of the many anxious and upsetting trips I made through the summer, and being in Canterbury again is bound to bring it all back. Hopefully seeing A so much better will replace them with better ones.