Yesterday went well. Very well, in fact. My parents came over to our place to visit. We had lunch and then walked to the shopping centre for them (mainly my mother and aunt, the Shopping Sisters) to have a nose around. My dad looked tired by the time he got there, but hey, he's 64 and was jet-lagged. They'd all got up at 4:30am. He did very well, as far as I'm concerned.

I could go on endlessly about every minute detail about what we did but it's not really necessary - at the end of the day, I was happy to know that it was the first time in years I've spent time together with them and had not been awkward in their presence. Despite living with them for over twenty years, I was never really comfortable and we didn't really speak much even though we were in the same house. Every day when I got off work I would go home, say "hi" and that would more or less be the extent of conversation. The problem's obviously with me, of course, but each time we had "discussions" I would get the feeling they were trying to impose their thoughts on what I should do with my life on me, without having the benefit of understanding the full picture for their advice to hold weight. In the past two days there was this sense that they've more or less accepted my choices in life and have not tried to impose any of their beliefs on me. They are who they are. I am who I am. So we got on fine; very well, in fact. It's weird but moving 7000 miles away from home has actually helped me have a better relationship with my parents - which is one of the things I wanted to have in the first place. I hope to build on that.

Kate did them a brilliant stir-fry in the evening. She was a little taken aback when they were not used to her cous cous for lunch, and they absolutely wolfed down the stir fry noodles, guzzled her gingerbread and brought the rest back to the hotel. She loved it. I bet the gingerbread was gone before bedtime.