BASKETTCASE

Demolition has started. I had a bad few minutes this morning when the team arrived and told me the job was much bigger than thought, and would take close on a week and cost three times the quoted money! When they explained about all the different loads that would have to go to different tips I must confess I saw their point, but it was a bit of a shock.

Dave is actually getting quite excited planning his next major project. It looks like it may be a big shed - another shed! - to house the train set, scalextric and garden furniture. The playhouse may well be sited there rather than under the trees at the bottom of the garden, so that sand-pit, pretending and bikes/cars are all within sight of the grown-ups' tea and chat.

I got my accounts done yesterday for the year, which always makes me feel relaxed and carefree. Dave and I went out for a sandwich lunch two days running, partly because we can, and partly because it's not very pretty round here at the moment. All summer I have been feeling a bit sad that Mum never got to walk out of her new home into the garden, but how she would have hated to see her 'little home' looking so derelict and terminal.

It's lovely of people to remark how hard we have worked in the garden and it's true we have, but it's easy to lose sight of how much we have done when there's so much still to do. It ought to be easy to achieve a cottage garden sort of atmosphere, with mixed veg and flowers and winding paths and mossy corners, but actually it means it's never finished because it's never perfect. Being perfect would defeat the object, and I suspect would soon lead to our planning the next re-vamp.

We are doing it with the house as well. last year I spent ages painting and furnishing a room for Joe with a jungle on the walls and Thomas the Tank Engine on the cupboard. Now we need to accomodate James who must be noticing that he sleeps in a store room, so the next plan is a shared room with two single beds. It looks at the moment as if the beds will be boats facing across the sea to the beach but I'm not too sure I am clever enough to do the trompe d'oeuil. And will the boys go to bed afraid of sinking in their sleep?

Enough nonsense. I am giving myself an evening of scrapbooking but need to get on while the light is still good in the conservatory.