Thursday 3rd December 2015

Wednesday

Are we still here? I mean, at home in St Maggies. Yes we are. Two weeks without traveling, well apart from the weekend away in Lincoln of course. But that will change on Monday when I head to the tundra of Denmark come Monday. And some details of the week after have become clearer, in that I will not have to go to Norway, but will be visiting Lubeck for a couple of days. So, there will be plenty of marzipan cakes for the festive season in our house. Oh, and the other thing that popped in my head was, Oooh, I could visit the second hand record store. I have my priorities clear that's for certain!

But back to yesterday. And the usual stuff, only with Tesco failing to complete our full order in that they had forgotten the bread, I was up to my elbows in flour before breakfast, making another batch of dough for rolls for lunch. And being out of chili seeds, I put in some garlic instead. And mighty fine it all began to smell.

They were done by half ten, and needless to say that meant it was lunchtime, and with just melted butter on them once again, they flavour was wonderful just as they were.

I avoided social media most of the day, clouds of war were gathering, with Parliament discussing whether British Forces should take part in bombing IS, ISIL, ISIL or whatever it is called today. Turns out it was called Daesh today. There is no point in just bombing these twisted people, its what they want. But the hawks want to be seen to be doing something, and the only thing they can do is drop bombs. So the course of action is to drop bombs. No plans on what happens next or no plan B. As usual. Such mistakes have been done in the last 15 years and look where we are.

Sigh.

Light begins to fade at about two when it is cloudy, there was a chance for a walk in the sunshine at lunchtime, but work meant I could not get away. By the time I was free of work, clouds had rolled in and too late to go out. Instead I went on the cross trainer and did 25 minutes. I worked out that morning that if I wanted to do 10,000 steps a day, and that there was one stop a second on the cross trainer, I would have to cross train for about three hours. 25 minutes is hardly a dent. But its a start.

Scully came up to watch me, to meow encouragement. Or that's what I told myself she was doing. She got in the spare bed and curled up. Bless.

I do my session, the cool down whilst the central heating pumps round. Despite it being a warm day outside, well, for December, once the sun sets, the temperature really drops, but I resisted putting the heating on until the clock came on at half three. Dinner was bangers and mash, at least once Jools came home with the potaotes too cook and mash. Sausages were venison ones, and the mash had horseradish in, so not your average bangers and mash, you'd expect nothing less from us, I suspect.

The day faded out with football on the radio and us eating peanut butter heaven ice cream. As you do. Jools spoke to her sister, and there are yet more redundancies on the cards at the box factory, with the future for Cath as yet unknown. Nothing we can say about that, other than to offer support.