Monday 10th September 2018

It is dark now when the alarm goes off at half five. It feels colder than it is. And our moods darker, we are quieter. Even if we did moan during June and July with the endless near record temperatures and endless heatwave, wanting it to get cooler so we could actually sleep at night. Now, it is almost chilly, we have thought about putting on the heavier tog duvets, it really is getting like that. But on days when the sun shines, it still gets warm, even hot. But this week is getting cooler.

Jools is up first, she makes coffee, feeds the cats, and all is ready when I stumble down the stairs.

Her boss is away this week, so she has to take some of his work as well as her own. This will mean ever longer days, early nights and up even earlier from tomorrow.

Such is life.

I have been toying about whether we should investigate equity release in our house, there are loads of ads between episodes of American Pickers, and the temptation is to be able to retire now, as we don't have family to leave the house to. Imagine that, retirement, no stress, no work, just bimble for life. Or what's left of it!

I dread turning on the work laptop, even if I am on top of things these days, its just habit I guess. Anyway, no major trauma when I log on, and I got on with work, answering mails and the rest.

And through the day, I mix and bake the first of the Christmas Cakes, mix the sugar and butter together, work, add eggs, work, add flour, work, fold in nuts and fruit, work, scoop into the tin and pop in the oven for four and a half hours. House fills with the fabulous smells.

Lovely.

I have crisp sandwiches for lunch, and a brew. Always lots of brews. Cuppas.

Work more in the afternoon, more meetings.

And once work fades, I get sidetracked by more crap American TV shows, something about hotrodding wrecks. I don't know why, but it piques my interest until five, then I start dinner; warmed through chicken tenders, spicy garlicy rice followed by apple and blackberry crumble and custard for afters.

Lovely.

Jools is pooped, so she heads to bed at nine, and I join her, though I read some until my eyes close.