Sunday

K, as I might have predicted, is not feeling too well this morning. I hardly jump out of bed either, to be fair, but we spend the morning lazing around on the sofa. She is, sadly, unable to eat - meaning that I get her breakfast sausages and stick Apollo 13 on the DVD player.

It's been in my head for a few weeks as I have been reading Andrew Smith's brilliant Moon Dust; a book examining the hows and whys of the Apollo program, while catching up with some of the 9 surviving men who walked on the moon between 1969 and 1972. Smith describes the Apollo program as the "last great act of optimism in the 20th century", which is a fascinating thing to investigate. Apollo 13 is a very good film, and I haven't seen it for a couple of years. It still seems mad to me that it ever really happened - and that it all just stopped 15 years before I was even born.

After the film I watch the Monaco Grand Prix, which, despite being Monaco, is rather dull save for a couple of early smashes and Mark Webber wins a fairly processional race by a long way. By the end of this, however, it is clear that we should probably get dressed and leave the house - so we go for a walk up through Priory Park towards Crouch End. It begins to rain when we get there, so after a look around the excellent Oxfam bookshop there and picking up a nice-looking steak pie for dinner, we scuttle home trying not to get too drenched.

While dinner cooks we finally finish off season three of Mad Men - and what a finish it has. The last episode is truly exhilirating television from start to finish, and the penultimate episode dealing with the assassination of JFK is pretty brilliant too. Season four starts in July, and it will be weird to have to watch it week-by-week rather than in indulgent chunks. But it's nice to have caught up with everyone else all the same.