Poor little Primulas!

They're not meant to be flowering, and they're not meant to be underwater. Poor little chaps! Not much of a Christmas for them. And the rain drips on...

CB is all packed and ready for the lift to Heathrow to arrive, and then it's all go, go, go for her. And for me, some sober reflection on what being retired means. In particular to devise ways of ensuring the time doesn't just slip by and I'm left wondering where it went. Good at the end of a day to be able to say "I achieved this", even if it's only knitting a dishcloth.