The sugar-high is wearing off and I feel a hard crash coming on. It doesn’t help that the sky is grey, the wood box is empty and the last log is almost completely gone. It also doesn’t help that I polished off a quarter of the cake. In the words of someone who shall for the moment remain nameless, as I am not sure how apropriate such comments are, especially when said in all earnestness, “please kill me.” Well, don’t actually kill me, just get me a bucket. A big bucket and some sunshine.

So, it’s Monday, it’s a new year, and I have resolutely refused to make any resolutions. That’s a good start for the year. Certainly better than stating that