Last art club

Last night I had a dream that seemed to start with Grace and I enjoying a takeaway together which then somehow drifted into somebody trying to get into my house. I woke myself up by shouting out 'I'm calling the police'. About an hour or so later I woke again, thinking that somebody was shaking my bed. Cue a walk around the house, switching on all the lights and checking all the doors were locked. Good job I don't have a housemate to witness my strange midnight waking. 

This morning I psyched myself up for a six mile run (it takes a lot of psyching up these days) but it was actually pretty OK, apart from not really warming up until about mile four. I can't quite believe that we've descended into winter again. 

This afternoon was our last Art Club with the boys before they go back to school next week. Let's just say that the novelty has well and truly worn off and very little art was done. Parents across the land will be sighing a huge sigh of relief today and, hopefully, all having a very big drink of something rather strong. Well earned, heroes. 

Next week we will be in school helping out with covid testing and I have very mixed feelings about having to leave the house in the mornings and not just crossing the hallway to my desk. Joking aside, I really hope this is the last time schools will close. The Nation collectively crosses their fingers (and gets their jabs).