Wednesday.

As you can see, Ann's amarylis is now approaching its prime. Today has been a fairly restful day. Walked into town this morning, to Hilary's, where the scrabble branch of Highdale's U3A was holding its monthly Scrabble morning. Played, with Hilary and Jenny, three very good games. Won a game each, all of well over a combined score of 600 points.  Walked home through our first flurry of snowflakes this winter (didn't settle though). Had a quick lunch, then to a commemoration service for Priscilla (a friend of ours)  at Aldham Church. As we filed out after the service, our eyes were caught by a very elderly lady in the opposite back pew. She was clad for the cold, but on top of the layers and around her neck, was what I think used to be called a fox fur tippet. When I was a boy many old ladies wore the things. It was a scarf sort of thing made of fox fur, about four foot long with two feet and the fox's mask (complete with malevolent glass eyes inset) at one end, and the brush (or tail) and two more feet at the other end.  "Haven't seen one of those in years" whispers Ann. "No thank God" I reply. As I said, when I was very young they were not uncommon, were always worn by Great Aunts (who had to be dutifully  kissed - and when you got that close they, the fox furs that is, were usually fragranced with moth balls - the great aunts were scented with Parma violets - not a good mix!). Whenever I encountered one of them, as a small boy,  I always thought that the fox must have been run over on the road, probably by a steam roller - to give the animal its unusual length.  The one we saw this morning must, I think, be the last one of those in captivity!  Hope so anyway, although, in fairness, as far as I could judge, this afternoon's specimen hadn't been subjected to the moth ball treatment.

Good Night All.