Day 318. Snips and snails, no puppy dogs' tails though.

The fish may have died but the tank lives on for the sake of two snails. Heating, lighting, feeding, cleaning and generally spending money week in, week out for two tiny snails that may have contributed to the death of four fish. They may not not have too which is why they haven't been sent to animal farm. You know, the place where animals go when they get a little old?

Costly.

Day 317. Deep blue something.

Sneaked out for a cheeky pizza with the little one. It's easy to convince myself this is a relatively cultured trip when we have to pass this beautiful church in Kings Lynn. That is until five minutes later when we're wearing stick on moustaches while we wait for our dough balls...

Day 316. Attention to detail.

Attention to detail is the key when organising events. It's the little things that make it special. That's not to say the food, venue, theme and invitation process are insignificant. Screw these up and an event will be remembered for all the wrong reasons. But add those extra special touches and a great party becomes an exceptional party. I love these button badges. Inexpensive. Simple. Effective.

Events. Just one part of my job but one that I love.

Day 315. Feed the cake.

It may seem early but a Christmas cake tastes even better if it has time to mature. And time to be fed. With brandy.

So today I spent time in the kitchen, making a cake. It was a sensory overload and although it will be many weeks until we get to taste it, let's hope it tastes as good as it smells.

Day 314. Autumnal joy.

If you're feeling a bit low I totally recommend a walk around Oxbrugh Hall with an 8 year old. Well, I walked, she ran, everywhere. I can still remember running for the hell of it. And skipping. Hopping. Humming. Singing. If I could bottle that feeling I guarantee the black dog would need to be rehomed. Just running. Just because.

Day 313. *Beeping* scan.

I visited the new Tesco store to do my shopping today. I was persuaded to use the self-scanner and for the first 15 minutes it was relatively enjoyable. Pick, scan, place in bag. Pick, scan, place in bag. Then the novelty wore off. Pick, scan, rearrange packing to stop things getting crushed. Pick, weigh, scales not working, can't scan. My usual 30 minute shop took over an hour. The scanner was mocking me with its persistent beep: You don't know where the soft drinks are. Eggs? Now? Before you buy tins and bottles?

My 8 year old loved it. I would enjoy it more if the store was smaller. Or if I had more time on my hands. Who am I kidding? I hate shopping at the best of times. Add a store guide and then maybe I'll become tolerant. But don't bank on it.

Day 312. Lady Perdita of Huntingdon.

Over a decade ago we visited a Cambridgeshire farm to buy a cat. The only one left was the runt of the litter, smelly and mucky and living in a pig sty. I'd never owned a cat, we're dog people, but work lives meant if we wanted to have a substitute child, I mean pet, then a cat was the better option. In truth I was actually allergic to cats and the condition of getting one was that it must be short haired. But how could we leave her? She's timid and slightly feral. And we love her. On the mend after her corneal ulcer she's ruling the roost once more and that's fine with me. She's my other baby. With less attitude (but only just).

* a friend nicknamed her Lady Perdita of Huntingdon when we lived there as she's incredibly haughty.