Well, that is odd.  My watch, having been haywire all day yesterday, started to behave itself last night and it’s kept perfect time all day.  I haven’t dropped it at any time, I can’t think of any explanation.

Proper Bank Holiday weather today, ie miserable.  What is it about August Bank Holiday? Nearly always happens to rain’ or so it seems.  I went out to feed the animals, then pottered about for a while before coming over decisive and I went out and fetched sticks and logs, and lit the drawing room fire.  It’s been very good in here, lovely and warm and cheering.  I also picked two cobs of corn and had them for lunch.  If I hadn’t run out of bread, I wouldn’t have gone out all day, but it was an excuse to pop out to the supermarket – at least it meant I spoke to people; other than a brief chat to Roses’ Boy, I’ve not seen anyone else all day until then.  Not that I mind that, I’m often here all day and that has always been the case. Russell rather liked me to be here when he got home and he didn’t much like the house empty, he’d have appreciated it most if I had been agoraphobic and never left the house!  Not that he grumbled when I did go out, of course, I’m not suggesting that.

I couldn’t sleep past four o’clock this morning, so spent some time online researching electric blankets.  They have been rubbish over the past few years, some of them have packed in after a year and none has lasted more than two winters.  In the past, they’ve gone on for years and years, I don’t know what’s the matter.  The best ones have been the cheapest, the good named brands have not come  to scratch at all.  I’ve bought one from Lakeland this time, it being a brand with a good reputation (not necessarily for electric blankets, of course) and there were good reviews.  It was expensive, mind you, but I can’t be cold at night.  Hot water bottles just won’t do and I don’t like a warm bedroom, particularly.  I seem to be getting fussier as I get older, which I have no problem with at all.

I cooked a duck breast and a baked potato for dinner.  I’d got the spud first, or I might have chosen something else – I cooked it properly in my little oven, rather than in the microwave, but it isn’t a patch on Aga cooking.  I must be saving the best part of £30 a week, not having the Aga on, so I’m not in a particular hurry to have it again, but I won’t last that much longer, I miss it too much.  I don’t suppose I’ll have one in another house and it isn’t going to be a requirement, but getting used to an ordinary oven will be rather dismal.  One thing I wouldn’t do without, however, is a proper fire.  A winter room without a fire is like any room without books, there’s no feeling of homeliness, for me.

Ordering the blanket and lighting the fire are about all the useful things I’ve done today.  I’ve read the papers and watched fairly junky television.  They’ve brought back Fifteen To One, who knew? It’s now presented by Sandi Toksvig, looking stylishly butch – really, leather patches on the elbows of her tweed jacket, quite remarkable.

Tomorrow, I really must do some work.  I promise.