Thursday 3rd January 2019

This was the day I planned to go to the doctor, on foot, the collect the cream has prescribed the day before. It was going to be a clear and sunny day, so why not?

We woke up and outside was the first hard frost of the day. Next door's car was covered in a hoar frost, ut ours in the car port was fine.

We turned the thermostat up a notch and waited for the house to warm up.

I get up, make coffee, feed the cats whilst Jools has a shower and is ready for work. It is her first day back, but at least it was just for a couple of days before we get the weekend again. I think New Year on Tuesdays are great, we should have it then every year.

Jools leaves, I find that the magic box had failed to record the football.

Grrrrrr.

So, there is breakfast and then work.

Come three, I put on my coat and walking boots and walk to the end of the street, ready to walk up tot he village to the surgery. But I had doubts. My back already ached, and my worry was that I get there, of somewhere inbetween and it really begins to give some gip. So, I turn round and go home, mailing Jools that I will go tomorrow, either by car or walk once she is home at three.

I have a brew and find the box of Dairy Box is open: the nut whirls were calling me.

Once Jools is back I rustle up a glorious carbonara with lots of garlic bread. I decide that beer is bad, but wine counts towards your five a day, right?

And then there is the "big game". That is Citeh v Liverpool, the championship showdown. Sky TV started coverage at half two in the afternoon, and Radio 5 at half six, for a game that kicked off at eight. I was going to ask the neighbours if they were going to watch it, or maybe go into town, but in the end was happy enough to listen to the game on the radio, just about keeping awake laying on the sofa. Citeh won 2-1, but the world continued on turning, and I climbed the wooden hill to bed.

Nearly the weekend.