Persimmons and Prince William

I was excited to discover some persimmons this morning (yes, I was at the supermarket again)... they are fruits I have always bypassed for one reason or another, but I find the name so exotic, redolent of Biblical banquet scenes, or something. Anyway, Hedda persuaded me to buy a box of them and I had scoffed two by lunchtime. Oh, how I wish I hadn't. My stomach is most unhappy, and this on a day when I actually have a job interview, of sorts.

Meanwhile it is a dark, grey day here in the bovine backwater. The said bovines are all tucked away in their sheds. The sound of cowbells will not pervade the air again until next spring. The only evidence remaining is the slurry on the fields which, although it's so cold now, still stinks to high heaven. Horses appear to be tougher than cows, as they are still to be seen in their paddocks, although it has got to be said that they look pretty cheesed off about this state of affairs.

Titus and his mad little friend are wrecking the house as I write; Hedda is building a virtual igloo, and Gaia is allegedly doing physics homework, the operative word being allegedly. I am sitting here nursing my persimmon-afflicted stomach and wishing the witching hour of 5 pm would hurry up.

The rest of the world seems to be over the moon that Prince William and Kate M are finally engaged. All I can say is, about time chaps, good luck and let's hope the press leave them alone. Some hope!