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It’s a tad breezy out there today and cold! There’s a distinct smell of snow in the air which is something of a shock after the ridiculously warm-wet weather of the last few weeks. I should go out and pick  the last of the blackberries, bilberries and wild plums before we get a frost (but I’m not going out in this in my enfeebled condition). And I’ve tamped it down as hard as I can but the howling winds in the chimney have whipped the stove into a mental frenzy. If you need any lead smelting, I’m your woman.
Anyway, we’re snug and warm, curled up on our furry throws, Time Team on t’telly, mugs of hot Ribena in our hoary hands, nursing our mutual infection. The neighbour’s cat has finally overcome his shock at finding the house full of fangirls last week and deigned to come in out of the cold; he’s curled up by the aga with a tummy full of Whiskers, looking pleased with himself.

I don’t know about the rest of the afflicted but the flu’s still not really let go of us. You think you’re getting better but it has a tendency to keep coming back. Mark was running around yesterday but then felt so ill again he took himself off to bed at nine. I’m feeling a lot better so long as I’m sitting around, but generally very weak and tired and incapable of doing very much at all. But I had my first mug of coffee in almost 2 weeks this morning. I must be on the mend. :o)

Yea, verily, tis a bit of a bastard.

I finally made a start on sorting out the structure my novel yesterday – got 7,000+ words of plotting done, which is a massive relief. There’s still a lot of work to do on that but  I have a much stronger sense of who’s doing what and why and when than I did. Today, if I’m spared.

Such is my day. How are the rest of you doing, my darlings? For tis the weekend, let us give thanks and be happy. :o)

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