The youngest repaired a loose handle in the kitchen without being asked. I thanked him, then pointed out that he had left the screwdriver on the worktop. He looked at me, put it away and went to his room. The thanks was genuine, but I doubt it survived the sentence that followed it. I have been vexed by that look all evening, in part because I cannot honestly call it unreasonable. My wife said nothing. I should have preferred a rebuke; her silence leaves me to supply it myself. I am pleased he did the repair. I am also glad that he is here to notice such things. Neither sentiment appears to have been communicated adequately.

Considering the Hebrides trip again. I had reduced the options to two places by journey time and cost, then noticed that neither was near the walk my wife has mentioned for several years. A meticulously prepared answer to the wrong question. Booking it as a surprise would spare me a discussion, which is not quite the generous motive I had assigned myself. I shall show her the maps before settling anything. There is still a difference of almost a hundred pounds between the available dates, and I see no virtue in ignoring it. But the purpose is a holiday she wishes to take, not a demonstration that I can obtain the cheapest room.

The close has been washed, though I completed the lower tiles seated on the bottom stair rather than kneeling throughout. My right toe is not troublesome today; the knees, however, object to remaining bent on a cold floor. Warm water felt pleasant on my hands once I removed the gloves, and I stayed at the basin longer than the task required. Carrying the bucket upstairs left me short of breath at the second landing. I stopped there, without pretending to inspect anything. At home my wife had made tea. Sitting with dry socks on and no immediate requirement to rise was agreeable. The brush can be put away after the cup is finished.