as ditchwater

I have been very dull over the holidays and got nothing done at all. I have such good intentions and then just can't be bothered to get off my arse and write that essay/finish that report/paint that door/organise that bedroom etc. In fact it's hard to say what I actually do, as I never even seem to sit down for long. I have surpassed myself this year and sent out about three christmas cards, the others (already written and addressed) are gathering dust. I managed to get all the presents organised in advance and then kept forgetting to post my big sister's to her. I've even forgotten to post the Nephew's birthday card and I bought that ages ago. I'm not so much lazy, disorganised and slothful as pathetic really and it gets worse the longer the winter goes on. Come the spring I seem to gather momentum, but the long, dark nights sap all the energy and enthusiasm from me.

Poor Babycake is usually as lively as they come, but has been laid low with a snotty cold. He seemed better today, so we went to Greenwich auction rooms with Rock Cake and Gypsy Tart, but he was clearly just putting a brave face on things. He's really not his usual self and is refusing to eat anything but porridge, fruit or rice cakes. While this isn't the most appalling diet going, his refusal of his beloved lentils and spinach and his soy bean and mixed vegetables dish suggests that his cold has affected his appetite, but judging by the way he just tucked into a bit of my puris, not his sense of adventure. I'm now going to hear him giggle as I take him to the bathroom for his favourite activity, a bath with his toy cow and a jug of water to pour over his head. Strange lad our one.