Last night's sub-Christmas – that is, a Christmas dinner with Christmas crackers and everyone sitting round in paper hats, with post-meal party games (mostly charades and who am I? [when you have to guess the famous person written on the piece of paper stuck to your forehead] and the yearly bottle of Bailey's close to hand – means that I've woken this morning feeling that Christmas is now over and I'm ready to get on with the rest of life. Not good - must get back in Christmas mood!

This pre-Christmas was held because, as my bf and I won't be in the same country on the big day, it was a way for us to celebrate it all together with our respective children. But, as I say, it does feel as if it's all over now!

Must be ever so quick this morning, as even as I type I should be rushing around getting ready to leave for work... Below is a look at the fog we woke to yesterday, the same which shut Heathrow and another of the smaller London airports. And, just to prove that no two days are alike on this island, today I woke to a frost so thick I was sure it must have snowed in the night. It has already melted though.

  

Going about one's normal life in London, it's easy to not see the details that make up the whole, like the fine air vent covers in Wood Green underground station. I like the way they hark to an actual green space, as if, when you leave the station you might find wild does and trees (it was once part of a wood, as my 1500s map shows), rather than the noisy, concreted-over landscape of shopping malls and a cinema complex. 

And now to rush!

In true life, I veer from thinking that I can't stand living in a big city even one more day – there are just so many people that it feels unbearable – to other times, when I think it is so incredibly beautiful, full of so much fun, that it starts to even the balance on having given up living in a country of my compatriots, near family and oldest friends. This morning, the sunrise, so poorly captured by my cheap camera, made it one of those times. This photograph goes nowhere near showing how completely orange the sky was. I mean, completely. Orange. Orange sky in morning, sailors take warning. And, yes, I know that in the UK they say shepherd's take warning (yes, really, they do!) – it's just another one of those little cultural differences.

Spent the weekend in Norfolk, on the beautiful east coast of England. This morning, good chum and I went for a last walk before the drive back to London and thought, "Whoa! What the...?" But yes! Coming toward us were three very sweet alpacas being taken for a trek. This is a thing, apparently. You pay money and then you get to walk one of these somewhat nervy animals along for an hour. Different, I suppose...

It was a lovely day, the kind where you think, "Hurrah! This is my life! And this world? It's f&6king amazing! So beautiful!" And to prove it, check out the blue of the sky, the grassy meadow and all accompanied by the sound of at least three different bird calls going on. Just wonderful. It wasn't even that cold for the first of December, though we had wrapped up in many layers. But walking along with a good friend, talking about this and that, stopping to chat to the alpacas, well, it's all good. 

It's also that part of the world where, when the tide goes out, it really goes out. This isn't even the whole hog and already all those boats are stranded.

We went on so many beautiful walks: along the coast, inland through Holkham Hall's grounds, as well as mooching around the town of Wells. It's one of those sweet places where, if you buy something, the shopkeeper still wraps it up in brown paper or, if you need to go get change, will put the thing you want to buy away behind the counter until you come back. In other words, the sort of people who make you feel as if they care and see you as a person, not just another body passing by.

I liked the look of these Brussels sprouts, still on their stalk and the realness of the partridges hung up outside the butcher.

On the other side of the doorway was a similar line of pheasants hanging up.

The light filtering through the trees of the grounds of Holkham Hall was like something from a dream and the deer were sometimes so still, I actually thought two bucks were statues
(duh, stupid city person!).

It wouldn't be the Norfolk coast, or any other British seaside, without the obligatory beach huts, so here they are (below). Lovely and well-loved relics still very much in use.

And now back to the London routine. Thank you J & S for a lovely weekend!

 Saw this border as I was coming out of the Leicester Square Underground station in central London. From a distance, it looks almost Egyptian, but with a closer look, I see it's London Transport's initials. Very cute and the sort of decorative detail folks were very good at once. I think most of the Underground stations were built in the 1930s... Ok, my wrong. 1906. Yup, that's the year Leicester Square Underground station was first opened. Those crazy Victorians were big on their decorative details.

Got to love the English sky. So expansive and, with the double whammy of being the first bit of land a lot of weather finds when it comes across the Atlantic and being an island, those skies are often fast moving and interesting to look at. This one was seen on a walk toward Ivinghoe Beacon, on the Bucks/Herts counties border. Just before the cloud came in, the sky was a perfect china blue (you can still see a scrap of it in the distance) and the the way the sunlight fell through the trees and lit the yellow and orange leaves that still haven't fallen was so pretty it made us stop in our tracks.

Again, the light providing pretty tricks for us as we walked along the edge of a turnip field. Just beyond the trees, but too far for my now-sad iPhone 1.0 to capture with any clarity, was a chalk lion carved out of the topsoil on a hillside – much like the Uffingham White Horse in Wiltshire – only this one made by Whipsnade Zoo. Still pretty cool.

The bedroom painting goes on (and on), but at least the wardrobe doors are on and this weekend I had help, which definitely broke the back of this project. Am beginning to get excited about how it will look when it's finished. I know, small things for small minds, but when you've been scheming for almost 8 years about how your home 'could' look, it's a bit fun when even a little part of that comes true.

Am rewarding anyone still reading with the view we got from the top of the hill. Lovely, n'est pas?

Goodbye weekend - hello, Monday!

Once a year, in mid-November, in a small club in north London, Dylan Night is held. Local musicians come to perform and they can play anything they like, so long as it was written by Bob Dylan. Every year it gets more and more popular, and this year was a particularly good one. Lots of the performers positively encourage the sing-along aspect, which has a bonding effect on the crowd  – and it's already a friendlier bunch than any other I've come across in the UK, except maybe ones you find in places perceived as being outside the confines of accepted cultural behaviour, like Glastonbury.

Today was a home-making day: cleaning, washing, shopping and cooking. I see that my neighbours with the big apple tree have put their windfalls out in sacks on the pavement. Was a nice idea to share, and I did have a pick through, but couldn't find one that wasn't too bruised to use, alas...

 That big building you can see way off in the background is Alexandra Palace, which appeared to be hosting an all-day rave, judging by the amount of noise emanating. It could be heard even from where I took this picture. Not to be a party pooper, but the idea that this place will become 'the Southbank of north London' – as has been bandied about – might not be such a good plan: those silly Victorians just didn't think through the whole soundproofing thing...

You know when you have some free time coming up and you think about all the things you want to do with that time? Things you've been putting off, things you just haven't been able to do because there hasn't been enough time, things you want to do now you'll have that time? And then the free time comes, and you try to do all those things and next thing you know, the time's gone and all those 'things' you were going to do are only half-done...! Here's what I learned from my recent time off: choose one thing and one only. Do that. If you finish it, choose another thing. Do not be tempted to do a bit of one and a bit of the other, and don't even begin to imagine you'll do everything.

A busy period this 'free' time turned out to be then! To the preview of the Hunger Games: Catching Fire Friday evening. Love that young adult storytelling and the strong female lead. A great role model. Saturday night saw us at our lucky friends', whose house is a perfect little 1930s Art Deco gem, all curves and metal window frames, and with a sneaky roof terrace that makes you feel you've gone on holiday.

Monday found us at the 100 Club seeing the obscure and original indy band, Pere Ubu. Hadn't been to the 100 Club in maybe 100 years, but it's reassuringly the same, though maybe the graffiti in the ladies' has been updated, though it's hard to tell. Someone had written the name of one particular band over and over all over the place, but weirdly, I can't remember what it was. So much for saturation!

Tuesday we were all in 3D glasses watching Free Birds at yet another press preview. Can I say better than expected, but I still prefer The Hunger Games?

So the 'free' time is all gone and it's a tight work schedule from now until lift-off for the annual New York Christmas. The bedroom is still only half-painted, the novel hasn't progressed (though I did finish a short story) and I can't even remember how the other days slipped away, only that they did...

Still, it's Friday, which usually puts the world into a good mood, so have a happy one!