And Grit doesn't even pray, so get this!

Because guess what? Four good things happen in one day!

1) Tiger's bike, the one stolen Monday night, is returned.

A call from the lady at the local police station tells me they have a girl's bike, so come and look at it. She adds her life would be very easy if we said this bike was actually the one stolen because it is a revolting heap of a thing and she has nowhere to keep it.

Fortunately, Tiger says the bike is hers, so that's settled.

Apparently a bloke with a limp and a twitch walked with it into the local library. Perhaps my entreaties worked. I'd splattered the back gate with posters, inviting all comers to take a heavy guilt trip on account of the weeping nine-year old with a stolen bike. Suggesting a life filled with psychiatric treatment for the nine-year old and a hell up Satan's bottom for the damned may have helped.

2) We sit in Northampton Fishmarket and hear about the history of the trumpet.

Yes, this is Good News. This music session is totally fascinating, lively and fun, and we hear a live trumpet performance which sounds not at all bad.

I am so transported I whimsy that now is the time to encourage one of the little grits to learn the trumpet. That is, until I slap myself to remember that a trumpet played by a professional musician who practices five hours a day is a damn big difference to a trumpet attacked by Shark at 7am in the morning after one enthusiastic half-hour lesson with Grit who doesn't play the trumpet but who, in a blind and deaf fit, has bought a trumpet for £500 and taken a teach yourself book out the library.

3) Wandering back through Northampton to the car park we tour the charity shops and discover not one, not two, but three blue cotton dresses that fit Shark, and which she says she will wear.

Given that these three dresses are identical and cost £1 each only adds to the pleasure of this find. Shark is a lady who cannot be bothered to waste more than five seconds thinking about what she will wear. You could use those five seconds wondering about killer whales, or Tintin on the moon, or Harry Potter, or any infinite subject. Everything except what you might wear, because that is totally pointless.

4) There is still time after arriving home to declare today is Tiger's naming day, make a chocolate cake that Tiger proudly asserts is a clock when everyone else says it is a stegosaurus, and then welcome Holly to tea.

Holly is a beautiful retired lady with perfect manners who does not put her elbows on the table or slouch. She is a constant improving presence for Shark, Squirrel and Tiger and I am pleased to report that in all her time with us over tea, the little grits never once shouted ohmygodbloodyhelldamnpissoff, picked their noses, or farted.

About the most satisfying day we can have. And probably a calm before another storm.