I am feeling quite chirpy today. It is Saturday, the weather is fine and crisply frosty and there is a lull in the ghastly events to allow the exchange of hostages and delivery of essentials.
Next week I will titivate a pair of 17th century stone dogs (copies of old friends) and arrange for them to be hoiked up onto a wall of my favourite house in Bath where they will stand guard over the lawns and some other objects I have put there. This will be my last job before Christmas, which is always a good thing.
My wealthy neighbours have excelled themselves with their Christmas lights this year.
Today I will take the tweed overcoat out of its wrappings and wander around town, stopping for a coffee to watch the hundreds of people milling around in the sunshine for the Christmas Market.
Tonight I am roasting a chicken and making a cream sauce heavily infused with fresh tarragon. You can't go wrong with that, so long as you like cream and tarragon.
Green-Eyes is pregnant with a girl so I am about to become a step great-grandfather. It seems so recently that I was holding her hand to cross the road, and I hope I can stay around long enough to do the same with her daughter.
Small things, big world, or big things, small world?