The thing that is making me most sad is that I won't have any presents under the tree (the children have never got us presents, obviously he won't be getting me anything, and instead of posting her presents as usual my mother is saving them until the children and I go there on the 27th. Just as well, given that she is giving me a complete set of Wainwright to replace my granny's copies that I didn't claim when the house was sorted out because I couldn't quite believe that this really was the last time I'd ever be there). Which is a really stupid thing to be sad about in the general scheme of things, especially when I have any number of unread books and unknitted wool I could perfectly well wrap up as a present to myself of a project to start on Christmas Day.

The autumn term is always at least a week too long. We are all shattered, our tempers are suffering accordingly, and my bloodstream is at least 85% black coffee this week.