Shortest day

Noon on the shortest day of the year. And I'm appropriately uninspired. Here's a snap out of the car window on the way out of Fife on our ill-advised journey to the snowfields of the northern Pennines. Was our journey strictly necessary? Well yes.

First, a trip to Edinburgh to spend some time with Mr B's family. Lunch at Aunty B's house was lovely - she laid on a fine spread of Waitrose party food and we lunched royally. Then off to visit Uncle G who is extremely poorly. To see a man so large with life so reduced in a hospital bed is very sobering. Since I first met him, he seemed like a very big man, tall, life and soul of the party. Now, seeing him still for probably the first time ever, it makes me very sad to see the part of him that is so essentially him gone. I felt just the same seeing my Gran in hospital last year: I had always thought of her as a very tall woman "yes, I am quite tall" I would say " I get that from my Gran". But actually, she was quite short too. But tall with life.

After the sadness of that visit to the hospice, off to Mr B's parents to hear tales of woe from their latest holiday - but a nice visit nonetheless.

Then the long drive south, made longer by tailing a very slow truck for quite some way on the road through Biggar. Still, I'm not about to join the ranks of those calling for trucks to be banned from the road in snowy weather because this morning a truck arrived from Kettering with the kids' Christmas presents, and Christmas morning glumness has been avoided.

Once on the motorway, the journey to Northumberland was very smooth, and the welcome at Mam and Dad's was as warm as ever, with the wine already open and the chips in the oven.