Tuesday 20th December 2016

The last day of the year when we can say that tomorrow we will see less daylight than today.

Jools is getting up at half five each day, driving to work before seven in the morning to get the work done before her working year ended at midday on the 21st. Even at seven there is no hint of light on the horizon, I stand at the back window of the kitchen, nursing my second coffee of the day, waiting for the day to come.

It was another day of meetings, beginning again at half seven. This process seems never ending, meetings, mails, phone calls, messages. Rinse and repeat.

Everyone thinks their problems are the most important in the world, and I suppose I do too. So when other don't share your point of view, it is disappointing. But I plough on, gathering information, updating forms and documents. I hope someone, someday, will look at this stuff again, all the effort that goes into finding it.

Anyway, I find myself having lunch at just gone ten. And second lunch before eleven. There is no more lunch in the house, unless I start on the last two mince pies, which I was detirmed to wait until the evening and shre them with Jools. At least that was the lan. I could hear them calling me, but I did my best to ignore them.

I find a documentary to watch on one of the minor channels, and sit down to watch an old episode of Time Team; the story behind the SS Great Eastern. It's birth, life and breaking up on the shore of the Mersey.

It is time for dinner: I coat two chicken breasts and make ready the rest of the meal; bulgar wheat and pea and sweetcorn. A simple meal, but easy too.

Anyway, Jools gets stuck in traffic to the port on the way home, and so arrives just after six.

Sport has just about ended, taking a deep breath before Christmas, so we listen to Bruce Springsteen on Desert Island Discs again, the evening passes and another uneventful day passes.