Toucan play at that game

It's been three weeks since returning from the last work trip, so I'm overdue another. No one should be expected to endure the entirety of February in England.

This is my toucan cushion, fresh from the imprint of Leigh's bum, as we ran through the thrilling aspects of life in my flat: the codes for the bike store, how to change the setting on the washing machine, that Donna from Simply Interiors may get back in touch re the lingering snagging issues with the flooring.

Leigh's house has been sold and the new owners have moved in, but due to some spectacular incompetence in the company selling her a new flat, the paperwork was not ready. One understandable meltdown later, we figured out the dates of my work trip fit with her most critical homeless period.

So she's flat-sitting for a few weeks, which is excellent for security. Some scaffolding was put up ten days ago by a company that hasn't been seen since. With ladders cleverly left attached to the scaffolding, anyone can get access to any of our windows with about ten seconds of effort.