It’s not that cold as yet, but it feels as if it is. I put the electric blanket back on the bed the other night, and it’s nice to get into a warm bed. All the same, I still have the summer duvet and still wake up too hot in the night. But my personal thermostat is on the blink and it could be a permanent malfunction.

It is very good to enjoy a fire every evening, though. It’s the cheering comfort as much as the warmth. Tim was saying this evening that he thinks it’s about time to start lighting the woodburner in the dining room. Luckily, we have many tons of logs in the barn.

The most pleasurable use of a fire, in my experience, is in the bedroom and bathroom. The extravagance of the latter, in terms of work per time spent there, makes it not terribly sensible, but lying in a hot bath on a cold night with the flickering flames of a log fire lighting the room is genuine luxury.

The quality of English wine has improved remarkably over the last few years. We had a bottle of a Norfolk red, this evening: Winbirri’s Signature. I bought half a dozen bottles from this vineyard/winery five years ago – and I’m sure I blogged about it – and the four whites were very good and the red, which I think was a pinot noir, was acceptable. This red wine is more than acceptable, as is our local Flint vineyard/winery’s Précoce.

I think it’s a matter of improved expertise and of finding the right grapes for the climate and the area. I responded – a rare event – to a Facebook ad the other day, from a supplier of East Anglian wines – he’s a winemaker himself and, in email correspondence, it transpires that he and Ben from Flint were trained at the same university, though not at the same time. So I bought six bottles, all different, from Suffolk, Norfolk and Essex winemakers and we’ll enjoy trying them out. The company is The English Vine, if you’d like to investigate. Neil said that they were due to visit Flint this year, but lockdown intervened.

In other local news, my poor greengrocer said this evening that he’d had the worst day’s trading in three years and wonders if he can carry on. So many people appreciated him and other local independent traders during lockdown, when they delivered and managed to source food when the supermarkets were running out, and people promised not to drift away afterwards. But they have, it seems. I wanted more wet walnuts and bought a few more things, to make it worth having queued. But, though I went away with a full carrier bag, I hadn’t even spent ten pounds. When I was involved in the National Statistics survey a few weeks ago, I totted up what I’d spent at the greengrocer’s in the previous month, which was about £100. You need a lot of people doing that to keep going.

But we do our best. On the way home from Lowestoft the other day, we saw a hand-painted sign offering kindling, so we went to investigate today. The net bags cost £4 and we bought a couple of them. I tipped the contents of one into a bag I used to get from my previous supplier and it almost filled it. I should think they cost about the same – not that I’m quibbling over a few pence here and there, but anyway, it looks as if we’re okay for now. And we were only a few yards from the nice farm shop, so we went there and bought a brace of partridges and a few other things. So today it’s been support local day.

Tomorrow, I’m going to Norwich to meet Ro, Dora and Perdita for lunch. We’re going to Notcutts, where they have tropical fish, because the baby will like to see them. I haven’t seen them for more than a month, so it’ll be lovely.

The catalogue for the auction is up on the website and I’ve emailed to ask if it’s possible to correct the proof and send it to me. This week, I’m meeting Dora and Perdita for lunch on Wednesday, which I’m looking forward to. I haven’t seen any of the family for a month – apart from a few business callers and shopkeepers, I haven’t seen anyone at all. On Friday, my accountant is coming over. She had a baby 14 months ago, so did last year’s tax returns a bit earlier than usual and is doing this year’s a bit later, but there’s still plenty of time. I’ve explained to Tim that I need a day to panic, will get to grips with it on Tuesday and remember various vital bits on Thursday, so can look organised and capable by the time she arrives. I could, of course, Just Do It, but that’s far too sensible.

Rose left behind her chicken coops, as she isn’t doing that sort of thing any more, and I set up the wooden one on the grass next to the veggie garden, ready for a mum and chicks. However, as I’ve already said, I ended up just letting them in with the rest of the chickens, which has worked out well. No losses and they’re several weeks old now. Then a hedgehog moved in and I’ve been feeding it, and the amount of straw in there has mysteriously increased. How? Do they roll in straw, transport it and leave it behind? Very odd, but it’s certainly scuffled around every morning and I’m wondering if the hedgehog is planning to hibernate there. I don’t think it’ll be warm enough, though, if we get really bad weather. I think I’ll have to ask the nice people at the local hedgehog rescue place. Quite possibly, adding extra straw and maybe something protective on the outside of the coop will do.

I’ve got lots to do outside but I’m a fair weather gardener nowadays and the weather is anything but fair. I was kept awake by the rain last night, though it’s been mostly drizzle today. Which reminds me, I must vote in today’s Fat Bear competition.

We had a very good lunch at the Yacht Club. Tim had sea bass with tomatoes and olives, I think, and crisp fried polenta. This was good enough to take note of, to try for ourselves. I had a Barnsley chop – which is a pair of joined lamb chops – with a herb crust, potatoes Dauphinoise and ratatouille. Then Tim had raspberry crème brûlée with lemon biscuits and I had blackberry sorbet and pistachio ice cream with diced pineapple.

There were two couples at another table and I eyed – at a tricky distance – what they were having and everything looked pretty good. Once they’d finished their main course and ordered pudding (which I think was what encouraged us), they turned their chairs to chat better, which was when I realised that one of the four was my ex-brother-in-law. I murmured as much to Tim and wondered if he’d noticed – and indeed recognised – me as he’d given no sign. We finished our meal before they did and, as we were leaving, he gave me a nod and smile, so evidently he did. The early marriage between him and my sister lasted a very short time and its mistake was acknowledged amicably by both, so any slight awkwardness was over 40 years and more ago. I always liked him.

Tim cooked dinner tonight, which was pork chops in cider, mushrooms and onions, with fried slices of apple. We talked about recipes and recipe books, remembering that we used to cook lots of dishes from each book when we only had a few. Now, we often only do one or two recipes from a book because we have so many. It’s made me reminisce – again, darlings – and I might well share that with you in the next few days.

The Poole cat has arrived and Tim likes it very much. It started its home here on the mantelpiece in the drawing room and I introduced it to its tiny Lowestoft counterpart but, as cats do, it decided to move to the top of the piano, just so it could make the “kitten on the keys” joke and it looked benevolently at us when we were eating dinner this evening.

We are cheerful because the catalogues are printed, enveloped and posted. There is always something, however. We’d checked Tim’s work so carefully, having equally diligently checked mine, and the catalogue was spot on when sent to the printer. I had a proof copy and found that a photo had been squeezed a bit, so let them know … but we didn’t spot that half a lot description had been left out. Tim had the happy thought that one of my small labels might just fit in the space and he was right, it was exact. So I copied what should have been written, printed three sheets of 65 labels and we carefully added the correct info to each catalogue. Then stuffed envelopes, added address labels and stamps. I took them to the post office because a regular customer is Belgian and his postage had to be done separately.

So we’re feeling pretty good tonight. I made egg curry – that is, a spiced onion and tomato sauce with hard-boiled eggs in – and a mushroom and spinach curry that I invented. I hadn’t got naan bread in the freezer but I’d made pitta breads which are the same but different, so we had some of those. We also had Prosecco followed by red wine because the work is done. I have some catalogues to deliver to my colleague in Lowestoft so I’m taking LT out to lunch at the Yacht Club there and then it’ll be a relaxing weekend.

Wince the gardener arrives on a Thursday morning, asking if I have a Plan. Plan certainly has a capital P. To his surprise, this morning I had several. I added that I didn’t expect him to get them all done in a day and, unusually, he hasn’t. But he’s made inroads and done the most vital stuff.

Overall, the weekend starts here, darlings. Woo and hoo.