Deciding naps were optional, Gemma went to the Tate on Sunday to see the Barnett Newman exhibition (which brought on memories of a Canadian uproar when the national gallery bought "a painting with stripes", complete with "I could have done that" level of criticism). Well, the politicos didn't, Barnett did, and the Tate slapped them up. Impressive, but not as impressive as the Anish Kapoor sculpture arched across the Turbine Hall.

Gemma also did some nifty unsolicited chores this weekend, relaying groceries from the front door as they emerged from the car, to the kitchen. No moaning, no griping, just mule-like repetition, one can of pears at a time.

Mate Lucy had Gemma over for lunch today. It was a charm offensive: the cute n' high-verbal Lucy (wonder where she got that skill from?) scored high on the friend front with lots of "Hi Gemma", and KP made a nice lunch for KB.