Just been out for a smoke and a ponder - under a clear and starry sky. Midnight, 8C, silent, apart from creatures scuttling about unseen. Good stuff, that I am most unlikely to do when I get back off the fags.

Yoga was hard today. Normal teacher - well, hardly normal - regular, let's say - regular teacher was off in Italy, running one of his yoga holidays - the fucker posted photos on facebook, so beautiful. If I did have a spare two grand dawdling around, clogging up my bank account, I'd probably go, even if the company did look a bit lithe and bendy compared to me (though one of his little rambles goes on about not just focusing on becoming bendy, as no one else will ever care or be impressed if you can put your feet behind your head). Anyway, he was off so we had a replacement, apparently trained in his particular school of yoga, but in practice, nothing like. This was the first time I reached a point of saying, 'I'm done now,' and just lay down on my mat for the remainder of the standing asanas. She did very loud breathing, too, in a distractingly loud, almost snorty style, that reminded me of something horrid from a film, though I can't remember which one. Attention to the breath is part of yoga - but she was loud, man. I do like being comfortable about making these kinds of choices and being indifferent to the thoughts of those around me. They can think what they like as I know what I'm doing and why and their opinions are none of my business.

I bought some tobacco flavoured gunge for my e-cig after consultation with another serious smoker who's managed to slide over to the e-cigs without problems, reckoning you need the proper taste to make it feel like a fag. I refilled it last night with the mint flavour - don't know why I chose that as I never eat anything with 'flavours' and I hate menthol fags, but I don't know how to get that back out - I'll have to vape my way through it I s'pose.

Tomorrow we have double-glazing bastards coming to talk shit at us for hours. They're looking for publicity shots and in exchange for using our house in them we can have it all at cost. Or so they said on the phone. We'll see. We needed a quote though as it'll all have to be done at some point. With all the windows tightly shut my bedroom curtains still billow in the wind, which won't be great when it gets proper cold. The back door used to be a front door (at no 86 to go by the number stickered elegantly to its middle), with a letterbox, but hung so that it opens out and catches the wind unless you grab it and hook it back.

This is all distraction, and good work at that.

Today I am grateful for: Bloke going straight back to the fireplace shop he'd agreed to visit to order our stuff, after coming home having 'forgotten' again; progress on some aspects of that which ails us; a programme where Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood show you how to make the cakes they set as challenges in the Bake Off - I'm very tempted but no one eats cake round here, bloke and ED don't eat sugar, H is gluten and dairy free, so that leaves me and grandson, who can wolf down a tray of brownies in no time, but we don't want that kind of thing to become habitual; the bluebird of happiness badge from Reenie that has been hiding all summer on the lapel of my warm jacket; being a mum, for all the anguish at times like these - there are also other times of great joy and pride

Going to bed now (after one more fag), sleep well, dear readers. Thank you for returning. See you in the manana

xx