A routine Friday.

After letting the dogs out and a breakfast of soft boiled eggs and rye toast soldiers, I take my coffee into the Garden Room to watch the day dawn. It is a grey dull morning and there isn't much to see today, Alice is taking Louis to school this morning, as it isn't really practical to attempt this with three dogs in tow. After showering and dressing, i knock together a Bolognese sauce and leave it to simmer in the slow cooker, before setting off for the Westwood around nine thirty. We park in our usual place, it is a cold morning, with spits of rain in the air and a steady wind out of the Northwest. As we approach Black Mill, old Norman tries to preempt any attempt to extend our walk, by heading off across country for the car. Even at my age and despite being still recovering from the arthritis in my hip, I can outrun a fifteen year old miniature dachshund. The old boy is placed on his lead and the four of us walk as far as the gorse bushes on the western boundary, where a few south facing bushes are in bloom, before turning east and following the path along the side of Newbald Road, taking care to avoid the muddy patch where I slipped the other day. On our way home we call at Morrison's, to do our weekend shopping and also buy a large Sicilian aubergine, that I intend to combine with my Bolognaise sauce and the last of the grated Mozarella in order to make a Parmagiana. It is snowing when I return to the car and as I fill up with diesel at the super,market filling station, before driving back to Tickton. The three dogs are let out of the car one at a time, towelled dry and then let into the house. After warming the oven, I put some fish fingers and chips on an oven tray and set the timer for eighteen minutes, this gives me time to defrost some garden peas, make bread and butter and tea, before feeding the dogs with some Bakers. I eat lunch while watching the rain and sleet through the kitchen window and listening to the news. The main item is the resignation of the Liberal Democrat MP, Chris Huhne, who has finally confessed to perverting the course of justice by asking his wife to take his speeding points. As the item unfolds, it becomes increasingly clear that his wife, Vicky Price, is exacting revenge after Huhne left her for another woman. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned! Later in the afternoon Pip phones to tell me she is back in Cherry and asks if I can drop the dogs off about six. Around five, I feed the three of them and then set off for a walk round the village before returning them home. It has stopped raining but remains cold and cloudy, however the forecast for tomorrow is good, which will help as Sarah has asked me to look after Louis whilst she and Alice have a girly day shopping in Leeds. When we arrive at Two Riggs, Pip has her weekend shopping in bags in the hall, so I take the dogs through to the kitchen, she tells me her mum has been moved to Saint Monica's hospice in York and after passing my best wishes for her, I set off for home. On my way I realise that I forgot to buy fresh basil this morning, which is essential for the Parmagianna, so call at Tesco and buy a pot. The house seems quiet without the terriers when I get back and after a supper of Camembert and rye with a glass of wine, I settle down with my biography of Thomas Jefferson with Norman on my knee, and read until bedtime. I have a backlog of ironing and housework to catch up on, but that will have to wait until after tomorrow, as Louis is likely to require all my strength and attention.