About two weeks ago, I sent a pot of Marmite to a Marmite fan in Austria as a surprise. It finally arrived a couple of days ago, having gone via Australia. Even I know that’s not the most direct route. The Aussies opened my beautiful, hand-made box and checked the contents to make sure I wasn’t posting anything I shouldn’t and put in some leaflets about what can and can’t be sent to Oz. Never mind all that, if only they knew how long I had spent wrapping the jar in bubble wrap so that (a) it was protected all round, (b) it would fit in the box, and (c) the label on the jar didn’t shine through and ruin the surprise the moment it came out of the box. I bet they just wrapped it up any old how. Ugh, it doesn’t bear thinking about.

Mum just sent me an email offering me a Fair Trade advent calendar. I looked at the design of wise men, saviours and stars and then thought to myself, “nah, I’ll get something more Christmassy.” What a heathen.

Later:

It doesn’t matter how often I go for a walk, there’s always something new to assault my senses: the cold, cold iron gates; nature’s unexpected gift of a pheasant’s feather in the lane; rotting apples hidden in the grass; the first icy puddles of winter crunching underfoot; the smell of someone’s dinner escaping from their kitchen window; frosty sheep droppings; the heaviness of my boots, caked in inches of mud; the smoke of a bonfire; the sound of a solitary leaf skittering between the branches as it falls; a dog being called to heel; biplanes fut-futting overhead; turning to find the sunset behind you as dusk falls in the orchard.

First things first: happy birthday, Hubert. Second things second: went for a walk today and met the most delightful squirrel. There he was, just sitting in a tree, soaking up the sun. I was able to get good and close to him before he finally got up the nerve to move and scampered off up the tree. Then I turned into a little paparazzo and tracked him across a few trees. He was certainly the highlight of the walk, followed closely by the beautiful colours I saw as the sun hit the beech trees.

I finally got the photos from my birthday shenanigans sorted and onto Flickr today. I’ve also got some video from the 12th, taken by Dad and John, which i shall put up when I have the energy. In other news, Suzy and I booked our Galapagos trip today. For 12 days next June, we shall be popping back and forth across the equator - and no doubt 12 days before that I shall be popping valium. Must keep telling self: seeing giant tortoises and red-footed boobies is just as exciting as refreshing your counter statistics every ten seconds.

I had a slightly unpleasant dream the other night, involving something to do with other-worldly spirits. All I remember is that something like a female ghost came a bit too close for comfort, at which point I woke up. I was facing the wall and, just like when I was little, I couldn’t bring myself to turn over, in case the “something” was behind me. Whenever I woke from a bad dream when I was younger, I couldn’t bring myself to call for Mum in case the subject of the dream (usually an intruder) was waiting outside my bedroom door and would either hear me and come and get me, or would get Mum on her way to me. This time, fortunately it wasn’t the terror that I had when I woke from nightmares as a child, but I still found I couldn’t make myself turn over and relax, even though I was hot and uncomfortable. Thankfully, I went back to sleep pretty quickly. I’ve always quite liked the idea of ghosts and ghoulies and things being haunted - just as long as they come absolutely nowhere near me. For that would be the time to crap one’s pants.

BT engineers have been and gone. It’s not a line fault, we need a new router. If we can’t get one sorted today, I’m moving. In other news, it’s damn cold outside.

A little later: I’m back. Thank God for that. Now I’ve got things to translate and about 500 offers of Viagra and mortgages to accept.