In the growlery

Cold and uninviting outside. I felt a bit tetchy and lacking bounce, and worked in my study all day. Perhaps I need a growlery, like in Dickens' Bleak House, where Mr Jarndyce goes to growl. Other than this I did emails concerning Janet, brushing up another short story set in Guernsey, tweaked a poem, and arranged to meet one of my clients on Thursday.

Lorraine home a bit early today, having to go to the dentist. Then she zoomed off to get her feet squeezed by the reflexologist, which she feels helps a lot.

Betty's birthday today, she sent me a picture of her feet in the penguin and cactus socks I'd got her as a wee present.

To bed. Reading The Box of Delights to Lorraine. Sends her to sleep very quickly. I love this book, especially as the world tilts towards Christmas.

I still have the puffin copy I had as a child, although my copy is now literally falling apart.