Somewhere that begins with 'Ll...'

Having a very stressful day. Kirsty has made me come to somewhere in Wales for this horse show. I've no idea where, but it begins with a double L and it's near Oswestry. And now I'm stood here looking after the horse, the dog and Evie. It's not on. I can't even go to the toilet because I can't leave the horse and I'm stressed up to the nines after the journey. I mean, you can't reverse with a horsebox, you know. So we've had to drive over the pavement and all sorts. Added to that, Michael's gone out on a bike ride and your father's out playing golf with Paul and he's asked me to babysit Robbie the dog as well. I mean, I can't babysit that dog, this dog, a gifted child and a bloody horse, can I? It's ridiculous. I don't know whether I'm coming or going. People just use you for their own ends, is what I think. Your father's no use, either. We took that reproduction oak court cupboard out to Dagfields the other day, and you've never seen such a rigmarole to move the thing. Moving furniture's just not in your father's meaning structure. So, by way of relaxation, I'm just trying to teach Evie knitting with some wool I brought back from Portugal...

If I die in the next two weeks...

...make sure the undertaker doesn't cremate me with my gold teeth in. They must be worth at least £400, so you can all go out for a meal on my fillings. Kirsty's getting the rest of the jewellery, Julian can have the clothes and you can have the mule chest. You're an executor, you know, so you're not to just give away the antiques to  the Salvation Army, do you hear? I think it's Portugal that's nearly killed me. It was far too hot. 25 degrees at least. I just can't cope with that kind of heat any more. Not with my blood pressure being sky high all the time. And I can't cope with the airports. Or the airlines. Or the air hostesses. Or the food. Or the language. Or the money. Or the smoking bans left, right and centre. Or the lack of decent antiques. I just pine for Dagfields, that's the problem. They don't know a Regency Davenport from a drop-leaf washstand with barley-twist legs, the Portuguese.

Hair

Kay's guitar for sale...

Already having nightmares about what to wear on this ski holiday. I suppose if your father can find some new pegs for this guitar, it could make upwards of £9.99 on Ebay if I'm lucky... Then I'll be able to get some second-hand Jaeger earmuffs.

Bungalow Worries

Have you been watching Location Location Location? It's very good. Don't know why I'm ringing you. I've got to go to the doctor, the dentist, the vet and the beautician for my feet, but I just can't think which one to do first. I'm just run off my feet. The dog's swollen up, drinking all the time and weeing all the time. Plus, I can't cut my toenails anymore so I've got to go to the beautician to do it. And I'm still having nightmares about not selling the bungalow. Up at 4 o'clock in the morning. I'll have to replace the fitted wardrobes. See if I can get a man to get them out. And I don't know whether the roof needs mending or not. I just can't cope with the thought of it... Right, I've got to go. I've just had a Dulcolax.

I told you I was tired all the time

2014

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Hot

I can't come down to Stansted next week, I'm afraid, because I'm just too hot. I've tried telling the doctor, but he just doesn't believe me when I tell him I'm hot. I'm just hot all the time. HATT, plus plus plus. it's like going back to the PMT all over again. Pre-menstrual tension, menstrual tension, post-menstrual tension... There were only about 2 days of the month when I wasn't some kind of bloody menstrual. It's ridiculous. And it would take me two days to recover from the drive down to Stansted from Stoke as it is... And I'm never going to be able to sell these erotic Japanese statuettes at Dagfields - they're just too rude. So that's another waste of £65.

Moussa Koussa

What do you want to get another bloody cat for?

I shouldn't be worried about fashion at my age. And the upshot of it all is there's no way I'll make it to Stevenage on Saturday, I'm telling you now!

I've been worried sick about this bloody London Fashion Week