It is snowing and beautiful outside. All the trees are frosted like Christmas cakes. Only the footsteps of small animals have indented the smooth surface of the snow, covering all the paths and grass. The Shetland ponies in the field still seem to be nibbling away at something, but goodness knows what they find to eat in this hostile terrain.

I am sick as a dog. Can hardly muster the energy to turn over in bed. Why is it that sickness so often strikes on one's day off - it's just not fair.

George seems ok so far although he did have a screaming and coughing fit around 6pm last night - I think he had a bad dream then we poured Calpol down his throat while he was still crying, so that might have something to do with the spluttering.

He had a very unquiet night after that, and Graham went to comfort him no less than four times. Said father is now sleeping it out. And mummy is avoiding baby so he doesn't catch the dreaded lurgy. Jin gallantly agreed to come in and take care of the infant so that his poor parents could get some rest and recuperate.

Today is my parent's wedding anniversary. 46 years ago, on a rainy Boxing Day, they tied the knot that has kept them together for all these years. Congratulations mum and dad. You pulled it off!