It’s a comfortable old day. Snow was falling as we walked home late last night and there is an inch or so on the ground this morning. Plenty to fuel a snowball fight and enough to make sure that the golf was cancelled.
I have been out and chopped some wood for kindling and then to the garage to buy some coal and logs. It would be better to buy it in bulk at the beginning of the winter rather than in dribs and drabs but we only light the fire occasionally at weekends so we never seem to get round to sorting it out.
This morning I also bought another bird feeder. One that takes fat balls. I makes me feel good looking after my little feathered friends in this way.
Now I am sat on my own in the house, doing a bit of pottering. Today this mostly means laying down a few words. The foundations of legacy. The kids will get two things from me. Firstly they will inherit some of my genes and the effect of having lived with me for eighteen years. Then they will have my writing. None of the other worldly wealth stuff matters, not that there is much of it anyway.
I’m half thinking of having a bit of a snooze but I will have to go and pick up hannah from town shortly so there isn’t really time.