Yes. This reluctant traveler is on the road again. I'm off to England tomorrow, to help my daughter choose her wedding shoes, to have lunch with my son, to see how tall my grandbabies have grown. Really a trip to look forward to, but without Mr F I'll feel like a duck in the Sahara. He has to stay home and perform Mr F-type duties such as buying a Christmas tree, finishing painting the sets for our show and, erm, what is it... oh yes, going to work.

While I'm gone my blog will lie idle and I suspect my new book won't write itself either. But one job I would like to see completed before I get back is the birth of my step-daughter's baby. Come on out, Number Four. Your time is up.
I know it's cold and I know Jingle Bell Rock is being piped into every shopping centre from here to Tasmania, but you can't stay in there for ever. And it's not so bad, life and everything. Before you know it, it'll be summer. Hey, before you know it you'll be riding your bike without trainer wheels.
We got you a fluffy reindeer and Stars & Moon pyjamas.
C'mon.