Once a year, in mid-November, in a small club in north London, Dylan Night is held. Local musicians come to perform and they can play anything they like, so long as it was written by Bob Dylan. Every year it gets more and more popular, and this year was a particularly good one. Lots of the performers positively encourage the sing-along aspect, which has a bonding effect on the crowd  – and it's already a friendlier bunch than any other I've come across in the UK, except maybe ones you find in places perceived as being outside the confines of accepted cultural behaviour, like Glastonbury.

Today was a home-making day: cleaning, washing, shopping and cooking. I see that my neighbours with the big apple tree have put their windfalls out in sacks on the pavement. Was a nice idea to share, and I did have a pick through, but couldn't find one that wasn't too bruised to use, alas...

 That big building you can see way off in the background is Alexandra Palace, which appeared to be hosting an all-day rave, judging by the amount of noise emanating. It could be heard even from where I took this picture. Not to be a party pooper, but the idea that this place will become 'the Southbank of north London' – as has been bandied about – might not be such a good plan: those silly Victorians just didn't think through the whole soundproofing thing...