Wednesday 2nd December 2015

Tuesday And the first day of the month, of course. And we are just about of milk, eggs, vegetables, bread and the other stuff you need to live. But we have yeast, flour, etc, so I can make our own bread, and so have something to eat come lunchtime. I made them the day before, of course, but there was no getting round the lack of milk if I wanted a cuppa after we had run out.

There were meetings. Always meetings, and at eight in the morning. At least they seemed to have learned that we Brits are an hour behind, and so don't arrange them for seven any more. Jools leaves for work and I put the pot on for another coffee before warming up one of the rolls for breakfast, so it would be just splendid with melted butter on, as we were out of meat for sandwiches too.

At least with a half-decent night's sleep I was able to cope with the day without taking to the sofa, although I know Molly would love the company. Anyway, come half nine I decide that with work having been caught up, I could take half an hour off to head up the hill to the village shop. It was bright out, maybe even with a hint of sunshine.

Out in the fresh air my allergies were reduced to nil, which is another bonus for walking to the shop. The house at the end of the road had bulbs sprouting even more advanced than our; last winter he had daffodils out by the end of January, might be the same next month too.

Walking down the hill, the sun broke through for a few moments, long enough to grab a shot looking towards Westcliffe before the long climb up into the village centre began. I could have bought all sorts of bad things, but made do with a pint and a bag of tortilla chips, just in case. In case of what I don't know, but I can hear them calling me from in the kitchen now! As I entered the village, I looked back to the house to see the Tesco delivery van backing along our street; eight hours early if they were trying to deliver to us. No point in worrying as I would not get back in time.

Back home it was time to put the kettle on and get back to work, pausing only to sip my drink or feed the cats, or more accurately, show them were the food was.

The day faded and work ground to a halt; it got dark outside.

Traffic was terrible again for Jools, she arrived home at ten past six. Seems like the added security checks really are having an effect. Anyway, dinner is nearly ready; chicken Kievs and some bulgar wheat with peas and sweetcorn. Lovely.

We seemed both to be shattered, we watched a program about walking old railway lines. Almost as good as walking them lines is watching someone else do it of course.