Tuesday 13th December 2022

The alarm went off at five, but Jools thought just five more minutes.

We woke up for the second time at half six, with me a whole half hour to get ready for work. Which entails getting dressed having a coffee and getting the office set up. Heck, even the cats were not bothered.

So, it was a bit of a rush to get stuff done for me, let alone Jools who had to as well as getting dressed, rustle up lunch and then drive to Hythe. I just had to change seats at the dining room table.

If I was late, I could always blame it on IT issues, which would be totally believeable.

There was nothing pressing, jut follow up on the mails sent out yesterday and tackle the evil that are travel expenses. I'm on on my death bed there will be e mails from the system demanding I change the tax rate on a can of Coke from 20% to zero so thay don't pay a fraction of a Krone on tax.

Such is life. And Danish taxes.

Could they not pay me to sit and look out into the garden all day? I would love watching the birds on the feeders and the changing light.

Instead I would have to squeeze all that, and a walk, in in the hour between ending work and darkness falling.

Lunch is leftover stuffed peppers, topped with cheese and done in the oven. Yummy, even if there was no wine.

I also find time to get the sloes out of the freezer and put them in a demijon, top up with sugar and 2 litres of gin.

And shake, baby shake.

I do go for a walk, with my earpods so I am wired for sound, but not like Cliff. Not much to report, just up to the top road, up and down. Repeat on the next. And next. And Collingwood. And back home.

It was parky.

But listening to the music was great.

Back home, back inside where it was warm. I put the radio on and prepare chorizo hash, made with two extra spuds, peppers and onions as well as a pack of the venison and cranberry susages, so Jools would have some to take to work on Wednesday for her lunch.

Work just gets in the way of my fun. Cooking, photography, messing about. But I need the job to fund the things I like to do.

Also, 12 days to Christmas, meant that I could open the first of the festive Belgian beers.

Cheers.

We eat, and drink.

Not much to clear up. And there was just enough gingerbread to go with a coffee before the footy at seven.

Argentina v Croatia: the battle between Messi and Modric.

Was a no contest, Messi won.

I sat on the sofa with the wood burner blazing, toasty warm with Scully who purred in her sleep.