Ginnel

Or snicket where I come from. Up here in Scotland it's a wynd.

It's the other, fast-disappearing, side of Manchester. The real-life side of the Industrial Revolution.

It was a big journey today: not as bad as the doom-mongering newscasters desperate to fill minutes (every time I watch live TV I'm reminded why I don't have it) would have us believe, but small delays added up and caused problems with connections, so I was home later than planned. But still home... And my fellow travellers were not quite so jolly. It must be because they were heading away from Manchester.

Tomorrow will be full-on. The boys will be here by 8, we need to buy another duck and all the vegetables and chocolate for our fondue pudding and then I need, somehow in secret, to wrap all their presents. I was lulled into a false sense of security buying all the presents which weren't for the boys by February, and delivering them in October... silly me!