It feels quiet this morning. Dogs and doors, pigeons and screaming seagulls are all I can hear in the cul-de-sac. Cars of course; you can always hear cars, but this morning the drone from the highway is almost inaudible – more distant than usual. Clear blue sky, light breeze and, of course, it is dry. The fields paving the land up to Dartmoor look like a very dirty beige quilt; the only relief from the burnt-hay brown being the green of the hedgerows. Thank goodness for hedgerows.

Today there will be a certain amount of excitement in my home: I am expecting the Heart Foundation to remove my guest bed, which I have dutifully taken apart into its four constituent pieces for ease of egress. I hope they take it; I have long looked forward to this day as the guest room will become my music room. Just my hi-fi, records, CD’s and settee. At last I shall be free to listen to music at a volume that suits me. Can’t wait to get it all set up.

This will be the second guest bed that has left through the front door in nine years. I feel somewhat sad about that, as if I have failed in some way. My thoughts of having friends stay overnight, perhaps after a film or a chat, and being able to put them up in a comfortable bed appealed. But it rarely actually happened. Yes, I had friends from Minnesota stay, and my brother from London, and one or two other guests, but hardly enough to justify nine square metres of real estate.

At least I can tell myself I tried. I made it known umpteen times that I have a guest room with a guest bed and a full drinks cabinet. Perhaps I am just unpopular. That is not for me to say but the thought occasionally crossed my mind. Very occasionally. But now I will have a music room; a den where I can catch up with new music and indulge in all the old stuff. I will enjoy it!