Thursday 9th December 2021

Still more treading water.

Jools is also less than two working days from a week off, and I will be home alone next week.

I am not planning any parties.

The wind had stopped blowing, though was very dark at twenty past five. The solar powered lights now only get enough sun, on a bright day, for a few hours illumination at night, so looking out the back it is just the lights of the farm down the Dip that shows in the dark.

I put the heating on and Jools boils the kettle and puts the coffee pot on. And so the day begins. She tells me a cat has spreyed poop on one of the rugs in the bathroom, and would later find more in the back room. All seemed fine and hungry at breakfast though, and once eaten they scatter to the four corners of the house to sleep it off. Unlike Wednesday there was no chasing or fighting, just sleeping.

Work is the same, more's the pity. I put on the radio as I plough through the tasks of the day, though I am pretty up to date so there's not much.

I toast the last remaining crust for breakfast, deciding on nutella rather than marmalade, and make a fresh coffee. The word seems quite OK, even with a pandemic and rank stupidity stalking fair Albion.

Music plays, cats sleep and I make more coffee.

The morning passes.

Come two in the afternoon I need a break, I could feel, and see, an aura forming in the centre of my vision, I needed some non-computer type activity, so go for a walk.

It has been raining, and so paths would be muddier, churned up byhorses and ponies, so I walk up the path to Collingwood mainly to check on the Heliotropes, and find one spike in flower, so snap that with the compact, then walk down to Hardy and up the muddy track to the cross-field path, I ponder which direction, the longer way via Windy Ridge, or the shorter back to Station Road.

My back told me Station Road, so that's the way I went, getting back just as my back was really letting me know. I put an ice pack on it it calmed down some.

One last check of work mails and I log off, pack away and begin to prepare the aubergine for dinner. Two really quite small vegetables provide enough for both of us for dinner and for Jools' lunch on Friday.

We feast on the mince pies I made dring the day, now cool enough to get out of the soft tin and scoff with a fresh coffee.

Thursday is Europa League night, and I can't even be bothered with the results, to take to bed at nine to try to finish the JCC book, but get too tired after an hours and go to sleep.