Back from Pickering a day early on account of snow. It was not too bad, but we came home before it got worse. Little bear and OH had a marvellous time, as did darling father.
Little bear is a bit too clear thinking. He is not four until after Christmas. When he was running up and down meowing OH asked if he was a cat. 'No, I me pretending to be a cat.'
We had a log fire going all day every day and I thoroughly enjoyed that. As our bins have not been collected for nearly a month, the thought of being able to burn all sorts of bits and bats is wonderful. Perhaps in the new year I can find the funds for a stove.
Little bear exhausted, swollen of tonsil and now diagnosed with eczema, through the most almighty tantrum last night and was asleep with exhaustion within five minutes of finally calming down. I felt like joining him. I shared a bed with him over the holiday and one morning he woke me up so early I could hear the owls.
Infection in arm continues.
I cannot imagine that I will get the word count for Novel in November done, but I managed, thanks to OH, to get just over 3,000 words done in while on holiday and I will get them posted up later.
Now off to physio, the first session after I dislocated my shoulder 3 November. It could be worse, I didn't get any last time I dislocated so I won't grumble. I shall just panic that I can't find the place in an unfamiliar hospital.