I've had a funny old week. Because of the blisters on my foot, I've had to work from home this week because I couldn't get proper shoes on.

There are a lot of changes going on at work, which might ultimately result in my job being made redundant in the next couple of years. The atmosphere in the office is awful, with morale at an all-time low and management pressing on with the changes they've decided to make regardless. It's all very stressful. It's likely I'll be moved to an area of the business where my technical knowledge in a specific field will no longer be needed. And when that area of the business has wound down, well, who knows?

But I'm in a good position financially - I have 16 years service, so would get a decent pay-off. I have no dependents, I'm nearly mortgage free, my car's paid for and I have no debt apart from the mortgage, which will be gone in a year. But I'm 9 years away from the age when I qualify for my pension and I don't want to have to start looking for another job at this stage in life.

I'm hoping that in a year or so TPTB will realise they need people with my level of experience and specialist technical expertise and there'll still be a job for me in the field I'm in now. Nothing will change for a year, probably. But after that, it's all a bit uncertain.

The press has already got hold of the story about these changes, via reviews on glassdoor.co.uk (similar to monster.com, a jobs portal where, as well as looking for jobs, you can review your employer). Over the last few months the comments posted anonymously by staff have been scathing - but 100% true.

So, a time of uncertainty for me, but I'm also aware that there's not much I can do to control it.

In the meantime, I'm enjoying my garden. My courgettes (zucchini) are growing like mad. I've got dozens of tomatoes that are still green, and my peppers are starting to flourish. I've made a water feature with a half-barrel, a solar fountain and some waterlilies. I have some cheesy colour-changing solar lights. And my £1 fuchsia plants from the supermarket are looking amazing, thanks to all the time I spent pinching out the tips when I first planted them. Today I'm off to buy a hoe to make weeding the raised beds easier.

That's the story of our generation, isn't it? Hanging on and hoping you can make it to the end. And Pink Floyd figured it out all those years ago:

Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way.

American way too, bub.

Work insecurity is an awful quiet gnawing feeling.

Wonderful that Mme Doohickie can see. Ice cream and sushi are good.

You two take good care. Love to all.

You both are in that situation where something that used to be decent is turning you into the frog in a pot of boiling water. Hugs.

It was a busy weekend here. Some friends who have had a tough time financially moved in with us, along with their enormous and wonderful dog. I didn't realize how deeply worried and stressed I was about them until we finally got them under our roof. I feel happier and more free of upset than I have in months and months. Also, so far I have job security and my husband is happy in retirement.

Our particular frog in boiling water situation is my husband's diabetes, which I am really, really hoping to reverse. We have been eating especially healthily lately and I have quietly recruited our friends to the cause.