I don't really enjoy going round in my pyjamas all day; I find it dispiriting and disempowering, so this morning I got dressed, though I didn't have to and- because I was dressed- I've got some housework done- shifting furniture and bags of dirty washing out of our bedroom in advance of the workmen- and cleaning the bathroom floor and walls of splashes of dried plaster. My father-in-law is still in hospital. He may have had a minor heart attack. The ward sister has said she won't let him out until he's fixed because she doesn't want him back. I assume she said it with a smile. I've just been listening to David Walliams and Andrew Motion discussing Larkin on Radio 4. Motion said he thinks Larkin chose a life that would serve his poetry. Most people who make that sort of choice choose travel and adventure, but in Larkin's case it was the drab and everyday he needed.