There’s not much to say at this time of the year, the weather
is as you find it each day – the work is on hold, the books
are still piling up, the bad movies will never run out and the
dog likes a walk but isn’t (too) bothered if it’s not every day.
Not much to complain about – which isn’t so much a nice change
as a solid continuation. It makes the writing harder to get to and
tougher for it to cut through than before. But there’s a happiness
attached to that. The family re-bonding, the love carrying us.