1. Another task that I've been avoiding: turning the compost. I was right to be apprehensive: the rainy months have left me with a foul and slimy disappointing anaerobic mess. I push my sleeves back up and get to work. A bit of torn-up cardboard; a bit of clean compost; better drainage and a few dry weeks will see me right. I feel much better now it's done.
2. To pass a few raisins over my shoulder to Alec in the backpack.
3. In the park, a doll just like Alec's Baby is lying all alone on a bench. "Baby," says Alec. "Baby!"
"No, no, it's not Baby, just a doll that looks like Baby. He's much dirtier than Baby. Don't touch, I think he's quite happy there, he's gone to sleep with his eyes shut. He's listening to the wind."
Cold rain and the rising wind make us hurry home.
When we get back, I run upstairs to check that Baby is still lying on a cushion in the cot, warm and safe under Alec's blanket.
Alec has forgotten the whole thing already.
