I knew exactly what I was going to write about when I was standing in the garden just now, having a fag, but my brain has just emptied, so I'm here, at the page, keeping my promise, but just wittering.

It's still tricky round here, but we creep towards a resolution. YD and SIL have probably/possibly got a place to live, but there's a lot of checking shit to go before they get the keys. And then, we'll have our house, me and Bloke. So a new beginning for us all. We're doing good though, muddling along, giving each other enough space and enough support to not make it worse than it is. We've let GS have the front room all this time as it's the one with a door that can be shut and a sixteen year old needs a door to shut if he's going to be here for months, but that's left us just with the little space that's off the kitchen, with only just about room for four of us to sit, right up close. And let's face it, you don't always want to be up close, so there's a lot of drifting into bedrooms, which is kind of weird when you're an adult.

I'm very anxious about ED's visit tomorrow, but also remembering that this is how I've felt each time we've tried something different with her and it's always all right when it happens, sometimes better than all right. Her responses are now subtle though - a lot of the time she just has a blank look on her face, but that's when she's just with me and I can't sustain talking to her when she doesn't reply, even if she does appear to be listening. When she's amongst us she laughs quite a lot, a big cackly laugh, that warms my heart. So that's what I'm hoping for, but que sera, sera.

I am grateful for: a peaceful art group; my shepherd's pie dinner turning out OK without any panic; YD; laptop still working (sh!); a big warm bed to sleep in

Sweet dreams xx