(Not quite) fifty shades of grey...

Got up and looked at myself in the mirror. My grey hairs looked distinguished rather than ageing.

Had Earl Grey tea. Then spent the day in a grey basement of a grey building in (honestly) a little street called Greycoat Place in a very grey skied London. Most of the time was taken up with discussing very grey legal issues with (mostly) other men in grey suits.

Had a cup of rather grey looking Chai with a solicitor in Starbucks (convention centre coffee is ALWAYS grey and tasteless and we'd had enough of that) before heading home. Have to confess to enjoying the walk back to Waterloo over Westminster Bridge; after dark the grey gives way to beautifully lit architecture with warm lights all along the Thames. But Westminster abbey still looked very grey, as the blip shows.

Was walking home from the station when I noticed that top man had a sale on. Went in and bought two or three items including a grey jacket.

Got home to my loving family: nothing grey there.

Tempted to end the day by rewriting a famous song with the words "sing if you're glad to be grey...sing if you're happy that way" - but I won't because I'm not.

They do say that January is the flattest month of the year. And probably the greyest...