- Bought new car. New car needs clutch doing, but got £400 off agreed price (which was bloody good anyway), so am OK with that, not least as I think it’s going to be A LONG TIME before it really needs doing. New car has blinds in back, so witchling much less cross as no longer poked in eye by sun. Also has CD changer, and climate control. Oh, and Xenon headlights. Feel like am driving limo (though bet bits of trim don’t fall off limos quite so easily).

- Car seat arrived for the witchling. Is good. And blue.

- Few dodgy nights with the witchling lately. This morning she woke at 5.20 and that was it, basically, for sleep. She’s still waking on average twice a night, which is fine, but twice a night plus a hideously early start is a bit ghastly. Still not up for leaving her to cry, though, and just hoping is passing phase caused in part by…

- Bastard nappy rash which just won’t fuck off. The witchling is in cloth nappies, and we change her frequently; we also use camomile tea and a drop or two of oil (sometimes olive, sometimes sweet almond, sometimes lavender) in her wipe water (we use washable wipes) as well as calendula cream. Normally this has meant she didn’t really get a rash at all, but lately we just can’t get rid of it – she got sore when teething and now we’re plastering the poor child with Kamillosan, a camomile-based ointment, Sudocreme, castor oil and zinc cream, and, for two applications at the doctor’s insistence, an anti-fungal cream which made things MUCH worse, so much so that it’s taken about a week to get back to ‘just’ nappy rash. Am not sure where to go from here, really – don’t want to take her back to the GP as frankly don’t think he knows which end to blow down, but poor bot is very red still. Suggestions gratefully received, though as waiting until nine months before offering egg-including food, think will hold off on egg white solution have heard of, just in case. Would be just our luck that she’d be allergic to it.

- Sad that things with my father aren’t changing. Really sad, if honest. Talked for fifteen minutes on phone last night, and he didn’t even ask how the witchling was. He just isn’t interested. Saddens me very much, and don’t seem to be able to simply put it to one side and move on, which is what I’d hoped to learn to do. Learning curve = clearly too steep for me. Shows no sign of wanting to see her or, really, me, though quite happy to pick brains re techy challenges of ISP woes and whatnot. Couldn’t even remember how old the witchling is. Know is pointless and awful thing to think, but just sometimes can’t help reflecting how different things would be if it my mother had been the one to survive. Just. So. Sick of hearing about how marvellous his new wife is, and how clever/resourceful/hard-working/ingenious she is, and isn’t it all just so incredible and haven’t they got a lot on their plates, and aren’t they busy/clever/hard-up/artistic/musical/diverse. Know is childish/pathetic/ridiculous to feel this, but just can’t help it. Also, sick of jibes about my mother, particularly when taking place in front of new wife, and, worse still, step-children.

- Going to write an article for Juno Magazine. Very excited about it.

- Quercus applying to work part-time so we can look after the witchling without using a nursery. Worked out will be £20 worse off a month than if we were getting tax credits towards childcare, so fuck it – is much our preference anyway, and would do Quercus world of good to get out of work environment full-time. Have I ever mentioned that Quercus would like to be a composer? Well, he would. And he should. One of his pieces is being performed by one of the orchestras he plays with in the not-too-distant future; will be v. g. for him as reminds him that house and work and whatnot Is Not Be-All And End-All. Maybe once extension hell over, Quercus could write when the witchling naps, or something. Is nice idea. Like that. (Of course, then will write own bestseller novel and never have to work again. Would like that too. V. nice idea. Have lots of ideas, and 20,000 words of novel written during PhD, but thus far bugger-all else; really must change that.)