Well, I escaped from the Whittle lab. Sigh. I used to really enjoy it at the start of Michalmas, and would bounce in and have a great time, but now I'm so worried about what they'll think of me galavanting off to pick up turkeys and see Sam that I'm treating it more like breaking out of gaol. Oh well, it will reach a happy medium with time. And I probably did need to pull my sock up and stop sloping off early and doing chores over long lunch breask. But the holiday is much needed.
Am now at M's parents, which surprisingly is far less stresful that it could be. I still have Christmas itself to get through, which is worrying, but until then it seems to be a gentle soporific time of good food, good wine, reading my book and playing board games. This is nice.
There was a wonderful TV programme the other night where someone did the "bird within a bird" with ten birds. As I can already bone out a chicken, I'm very tempted to do something like that. Well, maybe not with ten. Especially as there arn't that many woodcocks left in Britain and we shouldn't eat them as a cute gimmik. But with a duck, a phesent and a goose.... mmmmm.... I feel another medieval feast is in order.