Amy

It is calm on Preachers Lane after a hectic day in which Trotter was nearly strangled by the tape measure, and in which Fillipa drove Martha, Varne, Mrs Warboise and I to Carpet Right.

We arrived at Carpet Right and showed the assistant Martha and Varnes roughly hewn sketch of the sitting room and pretended a disabled relative had drawn it. Unfortunately, Martha and Varne had measured the widest part of the room so Fillipa and I were dispatched back to Preachers Lane to measure the grate so that no mistakes come be made with the new lino.

We purchased an off cut of carpet as Martha wants the stairs carpeted so that when were all here for a chill out it wont be so hard on her ears as shes trying to sleep.

All is not well elsewhere. Trotters and I had settled down to watch Crufts when I got a text from Dean on Milan's phone. The word was not good. At Deans fathers house Milan had fallen asleep on the dining room table.

Although Dean and his collected family had managed to carry Milan to the sofa, he is out for the count.

As a result Dean is dancing to Amy Winehouse with his Dads girlfriend and wondering what on earth to do.

I did suggest sending Fing over in his Ferrari to pick them up, well, picking Dean up and attaching some rope to Milan's legs and dragging him home, only to find that Fing has in fact crashed his Ferrari, leaving it neither use nor ornament.

Oh well.

Here comes best in show!