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The heatwave was reaching a peak on Monday and we were back in the 30s, which everyone seemed to be reacting to like it was a natural disaster, but the older I get, the less I mind the heat. I do think it may have sapped my energy though as, with N working late all week, I was home by myself in the evening but couldn't manage anything more productive than lying on my bed, watching Glastonbury playback on iPlayer. I had been pretty philosophical about missing out this year, the line-up didn't excite me and have plenty of turns, but seeing everyone there in the glorious sun, hearing some work colleagues and Josh heading off there, then seeing some of my bands added to the bill on some of the smaller stages at the last minute, I was pining for it. Tuesday was much the same in terms of weather and how I spent my evening (my main regret about the Bob Vylan controversy was that they would have been the first band I would have wanted to see on Catch Up) although I managed to cook and go a bit of crossword in the garden with N when he did return as well.

I worked from home on Wednesday then headed out in the evening to the Fiddler's Elbow, where I met up with Ketch for a gig: it was some kind of Northern Soul-adjacent night, I believe, and the first band we saw were called Scarlet Sometimes, a six-piece whose lead singer had just the right level of smooth, assured theatricality and threw in a cover of Sweet Jane. We were there for The Station who brought their infectious energy, although the crowd had thinned out a little. They weren't the headliner but we called it a night once they had played. I was actually able to join colleagues for a Thursday post-work drink for once, although had cats to feed so couldn't stay long, then cooked and watched more Glastonbury catch-up when I got home.

I was working from home again on Friday but headed off a bit early to get the train down to Woking, then walk out to Horsell where my brother and his wife had booked out a wine bar for the evening to jointly celebrate their upcoming fiftieths. I was one of the early arrivals but it filled up with abut 45 people and had a nice front area out on the pavement where we could sit in the sun. There were a couple of familiar faces but none of A's old old friends so I mostly hung out with Mum & Dad, who it was a great opportunity to see, enjoying the ambience and excellent charcuterie. They were still going when I walked back to the station, getting back home by about 12.45.

On Saturday I had brunch with N up the road at Cafe Lemon before he carried on to the theatre and I went back to Sainsbury's to do my shop. After a couple of hours at home, I went over to Harlesden to visit L and we played Cat Sudoku and Marvel Splendor. I travelled back home, fed the cats and myself, then went down to The Water Rats for my first This Feeling gig for ages: it was a typical line-up of young guitar bands, but they all impressed. First came Ini Lowe, who were classic indie and impressive, with a couple of more energetic numbers; next up Lame had a bit more of a beat behind them but great energy; I was there for Yorkshire lads The Slates, who didn't disappoint and one the Freight Train crew was up from Bournemouth to see them, who was really friendly; then finally were The Pedals, whose frontman had a sharp contrast between his estuary speaking voice and more crafted singing voice but I also enjoyed, throwing in a Catfish cover.

Sunday morning I dutifully went round watering all the many, many plants as J was in Poland, then headed over to Broadfield where Em had come down to visit M last night and I chatted to them as they eased themselves into the day: we went along to The Garden Cafe for some lunch, then back to the flat for more chatting. By the time it got to about 5, E needed to drive home and I needed to feel like I had moved around at least a bit so walked down to Warren St through Primrose Hill and Regents Park before jumping on the tube home for a quiet evening-in by myself.