Heat

The heat generated by still unwritten Christmas cards. Today was a blur of domestic activity. Three times I went into the loft to find the decorations and three times I returned having done all sorts of useful things but quite forgetting the original purpose. Son and heir came for dinner and gladdened our old hearts with chat. He also went up a ladder and changed a light bulb for us wimps. I wanted to hold the ladder steady for him but he said, no, just put your foot on the bottom rung and your weight will hold it. Hurrmph.