We are having a nice quiet time here in the snow. A variety of presents had found their way, thanks to the intrepid Postmen, we have a fire going in the sitting room, I have made raspberry rødgrød by way of a fatless pudding, and it wasn’t so cold today — in fact, since it was pretty clement, the Professor and I went all the way up to the garden centre, which pleased him greatly because it’s the furthest he’s been able to walk since Night of RAF Funne. The Colmans, our last remaining rough cats, have had their tea, and some dodgy prawns by way of a Christmas treat, the birds have been fed, wood has been brought in, and Miss Best Friend firmly believes that she has established the principle that dogs are fed three times a day — because of the short light and low temperatures, Miss BF has been having her walk in the very early afternoon, and when she gets in, is naturally hungry. She’s been getting a bit of supper brought forward to shut her up, but from the riot she put on this afternoon when we got in it became clear that this has transformed itself into ‘but I always get LUNCH’. I foresee problems as the year advances. The Professor is thinking about embarking on a patchwork quilt. A nice quiet thing to be doing in weather like this, though unlike last winter’s rag rug, it doesn’t, unfortunately, keep you warm while you’re doing it. Happy Christmas, everybody.