Spicing up bathtime. Perfect for using as a body wash in the tub if, like me, you prefer a long leisurely soak to jumping under the shower.
Visiting the farmers market in our local park in pouring rain early on Sunday and buying lots from the bread man. He'd baked for two markets only to have the other one (he hasn't perfected the art of bilocating, his girlfriend sells there on his behalf) cancelled at the last minute, so everything was BOGOF in an attempt to get rid of as much as he could.
Hurting, in my tum, just a little bit, after eating much more than a little bit of bread.
Welcoming a small army of teeny men into my life, sitting them atop gingerbread and caramel cupcakes and passing them on to a friend who was hosting a fundraising event for MacMillan Cancer Support.
Buying a pumpkin, showing the mister the design I wanted and being told 'You're joking. You'll have to do it yourself'. Someone may well be wearing our pumpkin this year.
Demonstrating it may be unwise to give me responsibility for undertaking a project involving a large round orange fruit and sharp implements.
Moaning about inconsistent clothes sizing. Despite what the labels say, I'm not an 8 and never have been. Looking at you, M&S.
Celebrating Aunty M's birthday with chocolate cake and lunch out in Barnard Castle.
Finishing the latest book at bedtime, a novel about Elizabeth Barrett Browning's maid. Margaret Forster is one of my favourite writers and the effective interweaving of fact and fiction in this tale provides a detailed account of life as a servant in the poet's household. Other recent reads highly recommended are The Snow Child (a 1920s Alaskan setting, a Russian fairytale, a question - is she real or imagined?) and The Easter Parade (two sisters, two lives, two different paths taken over a period of forty years).
Thinking about Christmas, planning Christmas stuff and buying a Christmas present or two. And I'm not even sorry.