Sunday 4th December 2022

St Barbara's Day.

Patron Saint of armourers and artillerymen.

May she look after us all, and care for those she has taken from us.

Sunday.

Good news was that Jools had a great night's sleep, and got in excess of nine ours deep sleep.

As we were having roast later, we skipped fruit for breakfast and went straight for bacon.

The morning was better with bacon. And a brew.

But, oh noes, we were running short of milk!

So, a walk into the village to collect two pints, and for me maybe to snap the knitted top of the post box.

I needed a shot of the day, you see.

So, after Radcliffe and Maconie were done, we put on jumpers, shoes, coat and hat, and walked down to the end of the road, turned left down Station Road and then up into the village.

It was cold, but not too windy, so OK going downhill was fine, and got the blood pumping going up.

Jools went to get the milk, I snapped the postbox, and we turned for home.

All was going well until we got to the bottom the hill, and began climbing up the other side, Jools began coughing.

And did not stop for half an hour once she got back home.

Whilse she took more cough syrup, I prepared lunch. Which, for the first time, I was going to be cooking roast pork.

Mum used to cook pork, and it was tough as old boots, ven roast pork was tough. So, I had to do that, and make crackling.

Crackling is where the skin on the top reacts to the heat and goes crispy. The knack (my sharona) was to have the oven hotter than hell when you put the meat in.

And salt the skin before hand.

Which I did, and 90 minutes later, along with steamed veg, mashed swede and roast parsnips and taters and, of course, Yorkshire puddings, sadly, shop bought gravy.

But it were right tasty with a glass or two of fizz.

But as we were eating at home, we had to clean up after ourselves.

Sadly.

We have also christened the wood burner, and literally burning through our wood store. There's something primal about watching fire, fire consuming solid objects, and the flames danced.

The cats were not sure what to make of it, but they enjoyed the warmth.

Cleo and I watched the fire and football during the afternoon, France beat Poland, which was the chaser for the main course of England v Senegal.

At five to seven, Steve came knocking; was I going round theirs?

So I grabbed a case of beer and went round.

A nervy first 35 minutes, whith England second best, suddenly changed with two fine team goals before half time, and within 5 minutes of the restart, England scored a 3rd.

We cheered each goal and drank beer.

But MOnday was a school day, so once the game ended, I took my leave and stumbled back home.

And so to bed.