Sunday 11th February 2018

With the sun expected to shine, at least in the morning, it would have been easy and tempting to go traipsing all over the county chasing orchids, wild flowers, churches or whatever. But with my travelling ways catching up on me, and in fact I just like to relax, watch and listen to football, listen to music, mess in the garden, cook and so on, it turned out the plan for the day was to have no plan.

We did not have a night of cards and wine to recover from, so up at six or half past, with the sun getting ready to rise and the sliver of waning moon hovering just over the horizon.

I make coffee, feed the cats, then settle down to watch football, Citeh playing football from Hollywood, demolishing Leicester 5-1, and playing with style and panache that is barely of this planet. It is glorious to watch, and we will talk about this City side for many years to come, even losing managers smile when they talk about the fabulous goals Man City put past them.

There is bacon butties to be cooked, more brews to be made, then at ten, time to tackle the garden. But as we have done much over the winter, after half an hour it was done, I take a few final shots as the builders are due in this week to lay a path and made brick borders for the beds. It will look wonderful. We hope.

Even with the sun out, I should have gone for a walk, but I could not quite get the enthusiasm for it. But I do do another session on the cross trainer, forth day in a row, huffing and puffing along to Shawn Colvin, not really work out music, but like having a conversation with an old friend.

We decide to have dinner at lunch, shoarma, fried potatoes and corn. Simple, but delicious. The smell of the marinated lamb lasts into the next day in the house; the gift that keeps on giving. Jools washes up, and I sit on the sofa to listen to the football on the radio; and my eyes may have closed some.

Jools decides to go for a walk, up and down the four roads of the estate, and within ten minutes of her setting out, dark clouds swept over and it began to snow. Not big fat wet snow, but like polystyrene balls, dry snow. It is still snowing when she returns, all cold and ruddy cheeked.

In order to warm up, she does a session on the cross trainer too. That warms her up.

I pack for the week ahead, get the documents I need, check the camera batteries in case I see something worth snapping.

We have cheese on toast for supper, we are getting sleepy already, and the weekend has slipped us by again.