My first coal fire

My first coal fire!  The coalman arrived shortly after I got home after a long, early class this morning – well, a long early class followed by a long social chat over a mug of tea. Anyway having had to get up even earlier than early to finish some writing before starting the preparation for the aforementioned long early class, I wasn’t exactly bursting with vim and vigour at 1 pm, and ignored the coal and the possibility of lighting a large, comforting fire for a while.  But I have now lit it.  And instead of lazing in an armchair pretending to read a book, but actually drinking tea and watching glowing coals, I’m having to hang over the hearth at frequent intervals, in case of signs of a chimney fire.  Or blockage. Or something. Still there is comfort even in this, this afternoon – it’s dour and grey and exceedingly wet.  And there’s a bus strike.

We went shopping yesterday. When did we become so old as to spend weekends in DIY shops and Ikea?  I bought 6 shelves for the wardrobe we bought at the beginning of August but which is still mostly flatpacked, and something for the hats and coats in the hall.  H bought a table and bookcases. Ikea was hooching!  Horriblehorriblehorrible.

We have been thoroughly irresponsible and booked a week in the Canary Isles in October.  Irresponsible because I shall miss school, and we can’t really afford anything self-indulgent at the moment. But we’re going.  It’ll be wonderful!  A week in the sun doing little more than turning brown.  We’re leaving the worthy holiday – the one where we visit museums and learn stuff and walk a lot and plan for - until January.