Sloven's top tip of the day: If you need a bit of a boost, have a couple of glasses of your favourite tipple then google 'bad taxidermy'. Hugely entertaining. Frankly, even without the tipple I find it entertaining.

Ann Widdecombe's death being treated as murder.

Ann Widdecombe’s dead and I’m still gay. So I won that one.

Binface was asked by a reporter whether he's ever been to Clacton. No, he said. Apparently the incumbent has made it clear that's not part of the job. Seems to me that he's just the bin to take on Farage.

Greater love hath no man: yesterday I dropped an earring - a tiny gold diamond stud - as I was trying to put it in. Couldn't find it on the bedroom carpet or inside the wardrobe where it might have bounced. This morning OH got a torch and went hunting. Found it. Good man.

Watering the front garden this evening. A pair of teenagers, about 14yo, walked past. "I love your watering can!" exclaimed the lad. "Where did you get it?" (Funny boy!) It was part of my leaving gift from my first teaching job, in 1996. A lovely galvanised one. 30 yrs on and still going strong.

Come on, Clacton - kick him out. He's done nothing for you.

Mr Toad has graced us with his presence again, though a little earlier this evening. I am ridiculously delighted.

Yesterday's Delight of the Day waited until very late on. Went to take Hettie's leavings ("Nah, don't like it anymore.") out for the fox or the hedgehog and nearly stepped on a big ole toad, waddling along the patio, taking its evening constitutional. Chuffed to bits to have one. Must make a pond!

Thanks, Hettie, for trying to batter your way out of the locked cat flap at 4.50am. Unless it was SB Cat trying to batter his way in and you standing firm and battering back from inside. Cat flap held. My sleep didn't. Bonus: saw the hedgehog having a last snack in the garden before heading for bed.

My daughter has 3 ASD children and has been fighting this for the past 10 years. It's wicked and exhausting to deal with. I've seen first hand the toll it takes. www.itv.com/news/2026-07...

If you're in Banstead tomorrow, come and say hello at the RSPCA stall where we'll be raising money for the excellent work done by RSPCA Guildford & Epsom.

Morning, gang. 10 more mice to put catnip into for the RSPCA stall at Banstead fete tomorrow - if I can keep Miss Hettie away from the stuff. Managed to fill and sew up 20 little pouches yesterday and put them into 10 mice before she appeared to do the Quality Control.

Reading Penelope Keith's obituary, I read that she was sent to boarding school aged 6. 6. I think of our 6yo granddaughter. What a barbaric thing to do to a small child.

If/when Trump hands the World Cup trophy to the winning team, wouldn't it be a wonderful thing if the crowd chanted "Epstein! Epstein!" or something similar at him?

Went to do a bit of allotmenting with daughter today. Admired the shocking pink lychnis on another plot and asked the lovely woman if I could scrounge some seed when it set. "Yes," she said, "but in the meantime have this." And dug up a couple of clumps that had self-seeded. I love planty people.

"Here, Lorna - one for you," said Hettie, herding a huge spider into my bedroom for me to deal with. Spider has been relocated, with the aid of a large glass and a sheet of thin cardboard, to the lovely fresh outdoors for some healthy recreation.

Just saw on Twatter that the wonderful @cleckylad.bsky.social has died. Such a lovely, funny man. Very sad news.

Having read of a study where women reported that they'd slept badly when the evidence said they hadn't, I thought I'd do my own, and counted how many times I woke when I turned over in bed last night. 19 times between midnight and 7.30. I think it can be said that I slept badly. Bring on the coolth.

I. Do. Not. Like. This. Heat.

With strong associations between air pollution + heart + breathing conditions, diabetes + dementia, if you want to ease pressure on the NHS, start by cutting air pollution. Credit to Khan for sticking to this in the face of all the anti-ULEZ hysteria: www.theguardian.com/environment/...

Today, in this heat, I've painted a whole room: floor, ceiling, walls. Okay, it was a cardboard box - bedroom extension for the dolls' house - but hey, I did it!

Lib Dem Leader Ed Davey has unveiled a billboard campaign across the UK to mark the 10th anniversary of the Brexit referendum today. The billboards call out Reform leader Nigel Farage’s £5 million "reward for campaigning for Brexit, whilst people across the country feel the pinch."

Approaching the local garden centre checkout, I was subjected to an extremely lascivious wolf whistle. Sadly, I must - in the interests of honesty - report that it was the (female) African Grey parrot which lives there.

O that this too too solid flesh would melt Thaw and resolve itself into a dew. Well, be careful what you wish for. I think it might just happen this week.

Today's deep philosophical observation: Marmalade on the mouse pad makes it very difficult to play one's computer games. Does a sloven (a) put up with it or (b) clean it?

Dog has gone home. Hettie says she did her Dance of Joy while I was out, taking Dog home. Relief all round. She didn't want to go. Had to be towed out of the house and lifted into the car.

Well, there's a nice bit of news to brighten the day. 55% of the vote to Burnham. And Tice saying that Reform supporters voted tactically to get rid of Starmer just put the icing on the cake - does he really think anyone will believe such arrant nonsense? Made me hoot.

"She's nice and fat, isn't she? Got a good layer of blubber on her, which is excellent." Oh, why wasn't I born a seal?

Hooray! At the end of a (at times literally) shitty day: hedgehog drinking from the ground level bird bath on the garden steps. First one we've seen this year. A lovely healthy looking hog.

Plants ✅ Loppers ✅ Secateurs ✅ Trowel ✅ Dog & I set off for the allotment. 1/2 mile down the road it becomes clear that I have a puncture. Dog & I walk home. She does a poo. I have a bag but it's a tricky one. Get home, ring AA. Wipe forehead. Discover that I have poo on my finger. That kind of day.

Sloven: Out you go for a wee. Dog: No. S: Yes. D: It's raining. S: You're part poodle, part spaniel. You're waterproof. D: NOT going out. S: Oh yes you are. Dog stands stubbornly on the step outside the door. She hasn't had a wee since last night.

So it seems that: a) foxes encountered on our nightly walk just get a polite nod from Dog. They seem curious about her but not worried. b) a fox that appears in the garden gets hysterical yipping and demands to go out and 'let me at him!'. Fox stands and stares (insolently!) at the show then leaves.

I'm reading a book in which one central character (a Geography teacher), lamenting that his students aren't enthused, muses to himself that - among other things - you don't see English teachers jumping on tables. I'm still needled by this: I have literally danced on a table in class.

Twatter having a meltdown over the social media ban. Apparently BlueSky is still to be permitted for over 16s after curfew. And who knew: BlueSky is full of 'leftards' and 'nonces'. Well, I don't know about that - I've found it generally a lot kinder, with the odd exception.

So: the jam has set - hooray! The dog has chased Hettie across the garden - boo. Dog is now on the lead and staying that way.

Ground elder. Ugh. Not sure whether it's just as bad as bindweed or worse.

Help! Made delicious strawberry jam but it's so runny we used it as coulis on ice cream. I want to reboil and thicken it and have powdered pectin, but online searches give huge variations in how much to use that I can't make a decision. Any ideas, folks?

I'm all for recycling, but having to drive 4 or 5 miles to the tip to dispose of one low-energy light bulb is a bit ridiculous. Can't go in the bin or the kerbside 'small electricals' so it has to go in the garage til the next tip visit. And what about those who don't drive?

Resource-guarding is one of the most unappealing characteristics of a dog. This dog. Ugh.

G/daughters have reminded me that I told them the story of a Yr9 residential trip on which the students abseiled from a platform 30ft up a tree. Teachers were encouraged to take part. I warned them that I wasn't great with heights. Result: one teacher sobbing on the platform, clutching the tree

Sephy the cockapoo is coming for the week while the family swan off to sunnier climes. This will involve feline and canine hunger strikes.

The courier delivers Mr Sloven's bottle of 'sustenance'. "Year of birth, please." I always give my sister's - 12 yrs younger than me - and imagine him clambering back into his van muttering, "Blimey, she's had a hard life!"

Mr Sloven has gone on foot to the village to do the shopping. The preparations would have been envied by Scott of the Antarctic. "I'm just going outside," he said. "I may be some time."

I loathe stripy lawns. Message ends.

Probably a good evening to stay at home. Robinson, Lowe et al inciting 'protests' tonight. Rowe calling for them to be peaceful but we know they won't be.

MOT: all fine bar her top canines - two of her remaining 6 teeth! They'll have to come out. Kerchingggg! £££. Gulp. Nothing but gruel for the next few months for Mr Sloven and me, I think.

We are off to the V.E.T. for Miss Hettie's MOT, vaccination and hind paw pedicure. She clearly knows something is up and I haven't even brought her crate in yet. Someone's been reading my diary.

I seem to have run out of energy. If anyone finds a little pot of it, labelled 'Lorna's', please pop it in an email to me. Thank you. Love Lorna Aged 37 and quite a lot.