The promise of snow is always a little bit exciting; the whispers started circulating 'round the building earlier in the week (perpetuated mainly by me).
This morning was tad disappointing as I was expecting drifts galore and another day housebound trying to get over a very poorly throat but all we had was a light dusting. However, by the time I got out of the shower it was throwing it down and has only just stopped. I am staring out of my office window at the peaceful winter scene by the canal and I actually don't mind being in Banbury at the moment. God knows I've whinged all summer about wanting to be elsewhere but, right now, this is OK. I've got a shaft of weak, wintry sunlight hitting my desk as I type and everything feels sort of still.
Yesterday I managed to get all of my Christmas presents wrapped, I'll pop them under the tree tonight. With that little job out of the way I can focus on what is, for me, the main point of Christmas- food.
I plan to make blue cheese and fig tart for tomorrow night's dinner, this comes in at a whopping 81 grams of fat per slice. A convenient way to ingest as many calories as possible in one go. The Sloe Gin has been strained and is settling nicely in the cupboard, it should be drinkable by Monday. I tried a little bit last week and very good it is too, though shockingly sweet.