Yesterday, buoyed up by recent success but frustrated by even more recent dull weather, the sun came out and we made haste to Royston in search of rare butterflies. It was very hot! Too hot really for a couple of septuaginta-tresgenarians (this might not be quite right but I’m concussed — I’ll come to that later!). It was also very hilly but the butterflies were fantastic.

It is tiny but they were flitting around all over the chalk downs, more ‘ups’ at our age. So good was the butterfly watching that we decided to stay on after lunch — it was hotter and there were swarms of blue butterflies but only one possible Adonis Blue and it flew away before Bill could snap it — my camera is sadly at the menders — I dropped it and it is hurt.

By now I was all behind and had to rush into town before the shops shut — gosh it was hot!

During the night I didn’t feel at all well — why do we say that? I felt bad!

I got up to visit the bathroom — feeling very queezy. Next thing I know, I’m waking up somewhere I don’t immediately recognise — something diaphanous is waving above me — have I died?

I call out weakly, Bill is already up, he awoke with the crash but headed in the wrong direction. I call out again and am shortly found — head in the shower, huge bump on my forehead– how did it get here? I’m lying on my back. Turns out I am not dead. My knee hurts and is a funny colour but my shoulder decides not to make a fuss despite the huge contusion — it is biding it’s time.

I am picked up and put back to bed — I can make this last until lunchtime!

After a light lunch I rally to look at the Holly Blue in the garden.

Diagnosis? Was probably asleep all the time but fell off the loo when I slipped back into deep, REM sleep (do they still call it that) when I fell off my perch. It’s a miracle I’ve made it to 73!