The weather seems to have suddenly decided that it is winter, and ought to behave accordingly. This morning it was cold. At midday, it was exactly zero degrees. That's Centigrade, of course. Or should I say Celsius? I can never remember which one is correct.
Anyway, it is jolly chilly all of a sudden, and the weather forecasts are talking about snow. Now although it is very pretty - in fact, truly beautiful looking out over the snowy river valley behind our house - I don't much like snow. It is the possibility - or in my case, probability - of slipping that causes the dislike.
But even so, we might have a white Christmas, and I cannot remember the last time that happened.
We still haven't got our tree organised. We have an artificial one, and it lives in its box in the loft for most of the year. Real ones are much nicer, and fill the house with that lovely piney Christmas tree scent - but as the needles start to drop, they are a problem for Lucy, who gets them stuck in her little paws, and that's not nice for her at all. So we don't have a 'real' tree.
Hopefully we'll get it sorted out tomorrow, though. And maybe we'll even put up a few lights this year.
On the knitting front, Lilly is nearly finished. All that's left is the edging around the armholes, and blocking. I might even get that done tonight.