Today, I head out for some Christmas shopping of my own. The shops are all packed, full of Christmas cheer. NOT. The problems at the airports are being resolved, now that the fog is lifting. Down in Madagascar, tropical cyclone Bondo is weakening as it nears the island. Mrs B's sister comes to call after dark, after which the lady of the house herself goes for a final shop at Somerfields. Quite a few members of her family call in today. Supper is a microwaveable meal, and the lottery yields no result. A competitor in the associated show breaks down in tears under strain of winning £17,500. Dear me. Very quiet evening. A woman is reportedly hurt by a gun, fired from a room above her. It went off by accident. See earlier blogpost.
The above flower is actually on a Veronica bush outside, at the moment.