Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

A car with a smashed windscreen, hotly pursued by a police car with sirens blaring, missed me by inches as it tore round the roundabout. I got home drenched from faffing about in the pond with the sick sturgeon and an unexpected appointment that meant assembling the wheelchair in the freezing downpour…which will teach me not to leave my coat at home. The front door key snapped in the lock and it was no easy task getting in through the back gate against which I’d piled all the bags of garden waste for recycling. The fence had blown down again, so I had to wrestle that back into some semblance of a barrier before letting Ani out into the garden. I finally managed a cuppa then got stuck into the Christmas Eve housework. The hand-wrung laundry had left a puddle on the carpet as it dripped. The vacuum threw in…