I don't normally bore you with my dreams - is there anything worse than hearing about someone else's dreams? oh, yes, actually, probably there is, like going to Skegness - but last night's was highly significant I suspect.
I dreamt it was the night before the apocalypse and that I was packing ready. I was dithering over which cookery book to put in my suitcase. I finally opted for Delia on the grounds that she covers everything that I will need in a post-apocalyptic world.
I think it's because I bought and used Nigella's Christmas book. (Although I still don't like to watch her on television.) My betrayal of the woman who taught me some of what I know has probably brought forward the time of the apocalypse. All my fault.
Actually the gates of hell may be open even as I write judging by the sulphurous smell wafting my way.
Oh, no, wait, it's just George. He stole 3 pieces of salmon and a steak last night, and that was after he'd eaten his tea, the little piggy. He's in a different room and his bottom is about 3 metres away from me. Is this a foresmell of the year ahead?