Chocolate among the Anne Tylers. (Thank you, Daughter 2.)
Sirius is decorated.
So is the house. I don't feel very festive, however.
The pandas in Edinburgh Zoo are more important news than a security alert.
They seem a bit camera shy. Wisely.
How is your piano playing plan going, Isabelle, you ask? Well, this is the stage I'm at. Yes, yes, I know it looks very easy. All right, it is very easy. But I'm still not terribly good at it. Sometimes I can play it and sometimes - just as I'm thinking, "Well, this is going quite well, if I do say so myself" - I play a wrong note.
However, I have now contacted a piano teacher and am going along to discuss the possibility of my taking lessons with her. I assume she wishes to assess the level of my incompetence. Scary biscuits, as we used to say when I was little. (Why?)
(I can't remember who asked, but in a spirit of pure scientific enquiry I bought a Cadbury's fudge bar the other day and ascertained that there was no gluten in it.)