Monday 11th December 2017

These are the shortest days of the year, meaning the sun doesn't rise until nearly eight, and so is pretty much dark until gone seven, or, like MOnday, when the rain falls fro leaden skies, hardly gets light at all.

And at some point during the night, the rain did begin to fall, and the wind begin to blow. Meaning that by the time we got up, t was a grim morning for those who have to commute. I just switch from one seat to another, but for Jools its a half hour drive among the lunatic drivers of Kent.

On a positive note for a Monday, I realise that I am due to finish for the year next Friday, only I have 5 days to take, so meaning with the three days between Christmas and new year, I can finish work on Wednesday evening next week; just eight more working days to go. I make sure that putting those days down as vacation in my work calendar the first task of the day.

But before then, there is just time to squeeze an hour on the sofa watching the highlights of the two derbies from Sunday, and the Saints v Arse game too. Quite how The Chosen One and Man Utd can spend £450 million and still seem average is beyond me, and shows just how great Fergie was; still funny to see Mourinho have to shake Guardiola's hand and then admit that Citeh were better.

And so to work, with a fresh coffee and some Bran Flakes.

Outside the rain turned to sleet and then to snow. The cats were not impressed and by and large slept through the day, not wanting to think about going out. Mulder went stir crazy, and began bouncing Scully and Molly, so I have to chase him outside a few times, the last time waiting for he trying to get back in and snapping the cat flap on his nose. But as always, he got the final word when he brought in a sparrow for me to eat.

I knew right away her had brought something in, at least he usually brings them in dead. He meowed and went under the table, and as I looked to see what it was, he opened his mouth and the very much alive sparrow made good its escape, and flew to the front of the house.

Then to the back.

Then to the front.

I grab a tea towel and race to Molly who now has the poor bird in her jaws. I throw the towel at her and she drops the sparrow in surprise, and in one motion I grab the towel and close my hand around the lump, hoping that I had not crushed the small bird. With all three cats now hunting the bird, I take the towel out of the back door, and gently open up my hand, and looking into the well made from the folded fabric, I saw a single dark eye blinking at me. I take the bird out, and it is panting in a panic. I hold my hand flat, it blinks once more, stretches its wings and flies to the hedge.

It lives to fight another day.

Or flight another day.

The day fades, and come four I begin to prepare boiled chicken and rice. Yeah, I now; boiled chicken and rice. But its good, even better with bacon and flavoured olive oil too that Jen gave us.

At least there is no football on to distract me in the evening, so we can talk over dinner, then wash up, and all is done for the evening. Poor Jools is knackered, and goes to bed at half eight, while I watch QI then scour online record listings for a copy of Bizarre Love Triangle.....