Sunday, December 19, 2010

From the sky, coming up the hill and tidings.

1. My brother's recent text message describes the scene best: "It's snowing the biggest flakes I've ever seen. It's like a billion down sleeping bags have exploded."

2. Louise calls to say she's in the area. I open the front door on to the clear cold air. She is walking up our hill in her pink anorak.

3. To hear that one of our Christmas cards has arrived.

Follow Her, no birds and Burns Night.

1. I am intrigued by an article in The Guardian  about psychic phone lines, and then by the author's upcoming thriller about a toxic lif...