January sunset.

The spinney, gilded tree trunks, courtesy of the sunset.

The sunset is now at 5 p.m. as opposed to 3.30p.m. which it was a few weeks ago.

Just after the sky gets to this stage is when I put the ducks to bed.

SIX TIMES I rounded them up, only for them to glide off into the pond.

Today they have had their pond cleaned out and their sleeping hut has fresh straw.

If that were me and I were to come across a lovely clean bed I would dive in - to bed - not the pond.
I swear they were chuckling away to each other as I slithered and slipped in the mud, ducking under the pine tree. Perhaps they were wanting me to join them in the pond. Very nearly did.

Then, they both just trooped in to their hut, "Oh, you want us in bed do you? Why didnt you say so?" This after I had shouted, "Go to bloody bed will yer."

This morning I drove to the next village for petrol for the car. I just needed a blast of Il Divo and to get out of the house. As I was coming out of the shop I realised it was snowing and like an idiot asked this woman, "Is that snow?" She must have thought I was a tourist, "Didnt expect that did you, " she replied.

I also didnt expect every house that had been for sale for months on end to now be displaying, "Under Offer." And despite Il Divo my spirits plummeted.

Ho hum. Tomorrow is our second viewing of the house from the family who have not as yet even got their house on the market, unless they have since the first viewing. Slight bit of hope dredged from the depths of my soul.

On the b&b front bookings are flooding in. By the end of February we might just be solvent again.

May all our sunsets be golden.