My bones are cross tonight – so when I looked out of the window and saw our neighbour’s boat, high on our very own hill top, miles away from the sea with its skull and crossbones insignia on its flag, I instantly decided on my pic. Thanks for the inspiration, Pete (you pink straw pirate)! This is looking out slightly west of Plymouth and Torpoint towards Seaton.

David has been doing carpentry – changing our stairs from open tread to boxed in so the dogs dander and dust will no longer fall through the stair treads and land on one of my kitchen worktops (where the sink is). Hurrah! I must say, it’s a wonderful job too – he’s quite a craftsman and it looks fab. I am one happy bunny. His skills as an artist are very ably replicated in his craftsmanship too.

On the other hand, I have been standing on a chair, arms aloft. I’ve finished getting the last of the clips down that held the old surface-mounted wiring down. DM did most of this horrible job yesterday while I did other stuff. I have found myself swearing at them and more disturbingly, pleading with them to come down. Imagine the scene…..me, covered in dust, scraps of paint and other debris, standing on a chair with a pair of long-nosed pliers in my hand, begging an inanimate object….. ‘please come down easily – I deserve just one of you to come down without me having to graze my already skinned knuckles again, please, pretty please’……oh alright then you completely cantankerous old sod, don’t then, make it as difficult for me as you can’.

When the last of these vicious little bastards had come down, I filled, sanded with an electric orbital sander and sugar soaped the ceiling and wooden beams ready for painting tomorrow. Using an orbital sander is a difficult job at the best of times. Complicate the matter with holding it above your head while it’s belting round at some unknown but improbably fast speed and the small matter of getting beams that may have last been painted several decades ago prepped up for a fresh new look and this was the challenge I faced today.

I was kitted out with protective face-mask and goggles but I still have the driest eyes imaginable and my throat feels as though it has been coated in a fine layer of concrete. The mask kept filling up with condensation (I’m so hot-blooded) so every few minutes I had to stop and wipe it clean. When I eventually finished and peeled off my clothes for a shower, it was hard to see where my black vest top ended and my black skin began. I looked like some strange and terrifying throwback to the bad old racially prejudiced days of the black and white minstrel show. My skin still feels as though every pore has been plugged.

I feel like a cross between a hero and a complete wreck. I ache in places I didn’t know could ache. My bones are well and truly cross.

I've just looked back at last year and to my delight found a tale of happy memories within my record collection and two years ago my life was also full of wonderful things. I wonder if next year I will look back on today with such happy memories - I suspect I will.....