Monday morning
Monday morning and I woke up to the sound of rain hammering the roof and δripping from the porch (which needs recovering). For the first time in ages, I slept for a full eight hours, doing a rare (for me) nine to five, and getting up just in time to see the Blue Star leaving in the blustery early morning. I was going to take a walk up the hill, but that will have to wait until it’s dry. I don’t mind walking when it’s cold, but apart from anything else, when it rains here, the lanes can become like rapids, and it’s safer not to venture out.
So, instead, today I’m going to potter around the house finding places for Christmas gifts, and then potter around the web finding paints for my new model, and maybe even tracing the progress of some not yet arrived presents for other people. Over the last couple of weeks we’ve been through every film we want to see on Netflix and several we didn’t, having done the standard Christmas Day films like Indian Jones and Home Alone one and two, and are steadily running out of ideas of what to watch of an evening. We don’t have yUK TV anymore, I did have Film On for a year, but when that ran out, they wanted nearly £200.00 to renew it, and as we’d only watched it occasionally for the novelty, I didn’t think it was worth it. Instead, I treated myself to Curiosity Stream, a collection of documentary channels for £10.00 a year, which is far more reasonable.
So, as you can see, there’s a lot of doing nothing much at this time of year, especially when the weather is wet, but that doesn’t mean I’m doing absolutely nothing. I have a target of 3,000 words a day on… well, on something. At the moment, that’s another Clearwater Mystery which is taking me into the world of early photography, or photography from 1889 at any rate. A little research while listening to the rain, a little writing and then, with any luck, another fabulous lunch cooked by my very own MasterChef. He now not only as one of the cookbooks, but also an apron with his name on, and another one from the godsons that, when translated from Greek, reads: ‘Νονέ, you are the godfather of our hearts.” Bless. (Νονέ, btw, is Godfather in the vocative.)





























