Winter fu-u-el

We tend to burn coal because our fireplace is not very big, and we have no wood store. I suppose we could build one. But in the meantime, we carry on polluting the planet.

My mother used to burn Irish peat/turf, which would be terribly frowned upon in Stroud. I wish I was more handy with an axe, because there is free wood around here, but I am afraid of chopping my foot off. I once sliced off part of my thumbnail off with a Stanley knife. When I turned up at the hospital, bleeding profusely all over the floor, they asked me,
'What's your NHS number, dear?'

Who the hell knows their NHS number off by heart? I suppose that, now, the question would be
What's the NHS?'

I had a relaxing sort of day. Got my order submitted for yet more Christmas cards ( the design called Little Donkey is doing well for me, but I tend to spell it Little Doncee, because of a Christmas story my younger sister once wrote, aged 4, about Mary and Joseph travling on a Doncee! We don't teach our nursery children to write, unless they really want to learn.

Walked to work, along the towpath, past this wood store. My class went well. I've been asked to teach an class on 22nd, because Monday 25th is a bank holiday, and 29th. I must admit, I was looking forward to hanging up my various work hats on 18th, two weeks today, but I'd rather have the money.

The Christmas cake I made yesterday is a bit small, so we've decided that Steve will make another, using a Nigel Slater recipe, and we'll decorate this one with flaked almonds and use it as a warm up. The countdown to gluttony has begun.