Monday, November 17, 2025

Breakfast, drift and pour.

1. I start to say no because I've already eaten breakfast and I don't want the work of cooking French toast for everyone else -- but that's not what is being asked. 

2. Day off. I drift between a memoir and a historical novel and a needlework project, half listening to the children's priorities: space ship insurance, a Ralph Lauren hoodie on Vinted, that brand of cola, what one might wear for a funeral.

3. I pour us wine right up to the lozenges at the top of the cut glass pattern.

Winter is passing, toad in the hole and mulled wine.

1. It is cold (although less chill than it has been) and cloudy (although less grey than it has been) and a robin sings loudly from the top ...