What a weekend - I don't even know who won the Eurovision Song Contest. They don't seem to feature it in the newspapers anymore. I can't pretend I would have watched it even if I had been at home. I like Graham Norton, but he is a bit too manic - and, then, there's all those dreary songs to sit through.

Anyway, I was in Wimbledon for the weekend visiting two month old Henry. A real chunky monkey, with bubble-blowing kisses. Sat up far too late with Ben and James (Demelza sensibly went to bed before midnight), and drank far too much wine. Woke up the next morning to find a flashing turtle in bed beside me. My sons do love their little jokes.

We had a pub lunch on Sunday, which I thought ridiculously overpriced, but I didn't say so. I got less fish on my sea bass than I would have got in a fish finger. I can't bear roast dinners, so always lose out with the alternative option on a Sunday. Still, the company was great. My children look after me so well, and so prtoectively, it is quite humbling. I feel like that girl in The Sound of Music when she sang, "Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good...."

Back to work today. Boss is in the office, safely away from any form of transport, so I am being spared his impulsive thoughts and directions. I am being watched by a huge seagull, who is perched on the balcony outside of the office window. How clean these birds are! People too often call them flying rats when, in reality, they are sparklingly spotless.

I suspect that Tracey has been feeding the gulls from her window ledge because they are becoming overly brave and familiar, tapping on the glass with their beaks. Tracey doesn't seem to understand that some creatures are supposed to scavenge for their food. She told me she puts down dog food in her garden for foxes. She's a menace. If she tells me that she prefers animals to people, we won 't be on speaking terms for long.

We had a secretary a couple of years ago who was forever talking about her doggy woggies, and saying that she preferred animals to humans. I think it's a control thing. And anyway, animals can't laugh. Well, apart from hyenas, I guess. I remember the morning I caught that secretary pouring boiling water onto ants on a kitchen work top. I pretended to burst into tears, wailing, "But they are all God's creatures..." I think she thought I had finally flipped when, in reality, I was trying to give her some insight into how she sounded.

Spoke too soon. Boss in car going home for lunch. He just called me with a thought he has had about one of our current cases, and wants me to research some archived files. Here we go again.....