1. The postman hands me a long awaited packet of photo prints -- two pictures (lots of copies for grannies and godparents and aunts and uncles) of the children.
2. Bettany is rather taken by poetry at the moment, so we curl up in bed with the wonderful Puffin anthology, I Like This Poem. This is my second copy, as the first one fell apart from being read and read and read.
3. I've been pondering the strange yellow-grey sky all day. The Sainsbury's man says it means snow. Even the poet George Szirtes (one of the best people to follow on Facebook) remarks on it from Norfolk.
