I thought that Charlotte might be cold in the night, though she’d pre-warmed the bed with an electric blanket, so went to the oak chest where i keep blankets and fetched her one.  We agreed that sometimes, even when a duvet is warm enough in theory, in fact it isn’t heavy enough, it feels slightly too insubstantial to feel quite right on a cold night.  Not that we had the forecast snow here, I looked out this morning at about dawn, as the app on my phone said it was snowing at that moment, but we didn’t have a drop.  Or a flake, I suppose.

I didn’t go back to sleep, but was quite content to lie in bed and it was lovely to hear the clock strike.  I’m so pleased to have it back in my life, as it were (though I could have, at any time) and it makes me happy.  Thank you again, Mike.

I felt sorry for the barn cats, though I’d set up their straw shelter.  I gave them a larger than usual scoop of dry food, along with their normal tinful of meat.  None of the chickens had left their perch, not until I arrived with their bread, soaked in warm water, plus the fish skins and remains of the sauce from yesterday, to go along with their corn.

I went back indoors to call Charlotte for breakfast.  “Is Eloise with you?” I asked.  Surprised that she didn’t come to say goodnight, I’d popped down at 11.30, when I’d nearly been asleep, because it occurred to me that I might have accidentally shut her in the porch, but I hadn’t.  As Charlotte replied no, I heard Eloise call.  So I went through the house, opening doors and peering in cupboards, to see where she might have been shut in.  Of course, the last place I thought of was the blanket chest.  She was fine, at least she’d been warm and had a soft bed.  I was very relieved that she hadn’t – relieved herself, that is.

My friend Simon finally came to deal with the cocks.  I helped by grabbing them in the coop and giving them to him.  It only took a few minutes and I switched off from it.  No sound, no pain but they flap for a while after death.  It badly needed doing, I was concerned that three of them might pick on a fourth and I’m glad it’s over.  Not nice, though.

I’ve filled the boot of the car with logs for Weeza and Phil and we’re having lunch together tomorrow.  The pubs are good in their neck of the woods, I had to phone three before I found one with a table at a suitable time for us.  Ro is joining us, though Dora has promised to spend the afternoon with her mum, who hasn’t been well, so there will just be seven of us.