Still crying lots. Last night they announced on Strictly there’d be no eliminations this week and I sobbed – it was the relief of the contestants, and the idea of dancing for its own sake, for the joy, minus the competition or humiliation.

Then today at the beach when our favourite dog waddles over so slowly and I see how in pain she is, and her human tells us she is thirteen and riddled with arthritis, I burst into tears. I crouch to fuss her and she still waggs her tail tho.

Getting into the sea feels the hardest it’s been this year. The iciness takes my breath and I can’t get it back. I panic a little and come pretty much straight out.

Just behind, two women call out Can you help us please? They are dragging their kayaks out the sea, mother and daughter, teeth chattering, shaking, shivering, soaking wet, having got into trouble out there. We chivvy them into our cars, give them our dry robes and hats, electric hand-warmers and drive them back round to the headland where they’ve left their cars. The incident takes me out of my head. In the moment we just want them to be okay. There is something beautiful about them too, about their connection together and about the way they had looked at our little group of four and instantly trusted us.