Sunday nights seem to have the best television, and some of my favourite programs keep me up later than I really like (or so I say while switching channels to see what’s on after the season finale of “Broadchurch”). By the time “Wolf Hall” was over at 1 a.m. and I went to let Duckie out to do his business, the step was covered with fresh snow. This morning the ground is white.
The weekend has been cold; on Saturday there were a few snowflakes flying around, and yesterday was chilly too. I went outside but didn’t take my usual brisk “trot” down the road. Fairweather walker, that’s me. Emil and I stayed inside where it’s toasty warm, and he read his three new library books to me.
He was looking forward to a “fun day” this afternoon, he said. He and his “primary caregiver” Tracy are going downtown after lunch. They’re going to stop at a café and just bum around a while.
Me, I’m out of my cosy nest in the bedroom but not sure yet what I’ll do with myself. Usually I bake bread on Mondays but didn’t replenish the whole wheat flour supply during the grocery shop on Friday, so can’t. Maybe a batch of bran muffins would be a good excuse to turn the oven on.