the quietest New Year ever?

We could have fêted with friends - but wriggled out of a French celebration, choosing our own company and a simple paella washed down ("Viking!" says Juan) with a bottle of bubbly. I was in bed by 9.30, and Juan by 11.00. (Next year will someone rescue us from this slippery slope?!)

The morning of the 1st we had our local ridge walk almost to ourselves. The sub-zero temperatures of Christmas have been replaced by a balmy, deceptively spring-like climate; deep snow by squelchy mud and gaiters.

The mild, sunny weather continued until the day we had planned to return to the mountains. A forecast of rain put paid to that plan and we have been mooching around chez nous. Highlights have included repairing Juan's jeans, re-oiling the kitchen work surfaces, weeding (yes), eating more puddings than are good for someone of my expanding girth - and going to see the remake of "Belle and Sebastian", where we had fun identifying many of the Alpine locations and I ended up weirdly moved. (It was forty-four years ago that the original was screened in the UK.)