Hither and Thither

I woke just after 1am and thought about the Christmas cake. I had just marzipaned it, and it was safely tucked away in a cupboard awaiting icing in a few days. But was it really safe from Hugo? I'd left him trussed up in his red sweater/pyjamas a few hours earlier, but still wasn't sure I could trust him. So down to the kitchen I went, only there was no dog. His day bed was empty, and so was the sofa. All doors were closed. "Hugo", I called in a panic. And from under the slanket there came movement, and eventually a head poked out and blinked. "It's alright," I quickly said. "Stay where you are." I put a chair against the cupboard - the third such protection (note to self: must get really strong magnets) and went back to bed.

We got soaked this morning on our walk, leaving the house with not a drop in sight and then a deluge followed us around the field. The boy raced across the young wheat to greet a friend, and when he returned his coat was plastered in mud. But by the time we got home the rain had washed it clean. My jacket and trousers were wet through, and even my hat had taken a hit and my hair was damp. Never has the kitchen felt so welcoming. No sooner had I changed than I heard the hedge-cutting tractor, and ran outside again waving £10 notes. But the driver said he couldn't get into the field until frost hardens it again, and he would come back. Hmmm. I'll believe it when it happens.

I couldn't order the turkey online so had to go into Waitrose, twice in two days. But I bought the Christmas pud too, and some Heston chicken stock. I got more icing sugar as well. And gallons of sparkling water. Gallons. We drink it like wine here. Loo rolls, kitchen roll, nice jams and marmalades, croissants. I'm getting there. It'll be a right merrie Christmas and no mistake.

Last of my birthday roses

Birthday 'mums still going strong