So, I went to see Anna in her school play again tonight, the final performance. It's about the Second World War, so there are some things that are tough to watch and must have been tough for them to act. The parting scene at the station as children were evacuated. The soldiers at the Front writing home because they think they are going to be killed. The reunion that didn't happen when a soldier failed to return home. In amongst the pathos, there were moments of comic delight - a Home Guard that was delightfully muddled, with a Commanding Officer well under the thumb of his frying pan wielding wife.
And now I find myself not going home, but letting myself into Liberal Democrat Voice Towers. You see, they are letting me guest edit again tomorrow.
I hope I'm not letting away too many secrets when I tell you that LDV Towers is a quirky and unique place. The hallway is decorated with election posters from the 20th century. Those I recognise include "Have you got the guts to vote SDP?" from 1986 and the big round My Vote from 1992, remembered with varying degrees of affection, those two.
I smell fresh baking and silently thank Sara Bedford for her culinary welcome. I follow my nose into the kitchen. There's a display cabinet full of bells, and I look in the fridge in the hope that there's some pinot grigio chilling. But no. It's even better. There's a Poached Pear Trifle. Must remember to take a photograph of it so I know how it's supposed to look.
There's a pitcher in the fridge of some pink stuff, with a bottle of ginger beer and a note saying "Rhubarb gin and ginger beer - enjoy Hx."
I pour myself a glass - it tastes deceptively innocuous. Better be careful. Can't be hungover tomorrow.
I follow the winding stone staircase into the turret room. It's literally wallpapered with the Great Reform Act of 1832. There's a pink soft toy sitting on top of the bureau. On the desk was what looked like the original Ballot Regulations from 1872 alongside a modern day guide to the House of Lords. It doesn't take the brilliant mind of Hercule Poirot to work out that there must be chocolate in here somewhere. Let's get looking.
I head to a bright, comfortable parlour. There's an overstuffed sofa with some comfortable cushions. There's lots of books on transport in here, and lots of maps of the London Underground through the ages. It's here where I settle down and start to work, pulling together articles from busy Liberal Democrats all around the country, fretting about how I'm going to bring a half hour conversation with a Government minister alive so that you enjoy it as much as I did.
Later, sated with gin and trifle, leaving the chocolate and cake for the long day tomorrow, I shall curl up in the grand four poster bed with the crisp cotton sheets. There's an alarm clock, with a Union Jack on the top, set for 7 am to give me time to make some last minute adjustments before the show begins just before 9.
Come along for the ride tomorrow - it's a grand tour of hard work, achievement and optimism of a Liberal Democrat nature, starting tomorrow at Liberal Democrat Voice. If you can't wait until then, have a trip down Memory Lane and remind yourself of the last time they let me loose.