A tin train

It's freezing cold and I'm not wearing enough clothes. A quick look into the night sky reveals a set of stars shining particularly brightly by London standards. This means there are no clouds, and explains the sudden dip in temperature. And here was I thinking Spring was just around the corner...

I've been with my goddaughter, her parents and her grandmother this evening. Philippa cooked us all a delicious vegetarian meal, whilst we played with a miniature clockwork train from communist Russia. It was made from tin and was absolutely beautiful. I could have watched it going round in circles for hours. Deia had rather less patience!

...So we did a jigsaw, which had plainly been drawn and cut in the 1970s. It showed a dear little woodland scene with mice and things in frilly dresses poking their oversized heads out of a treehouse. A non-specific rodent postman was holding letters and wearing an enormous cap. I asked Deia which of the mice she  liked best, and she responded, "the beetle," which I thought was a particularly interesting answer. She went on to tell us that her Mummy had done the puzzle when she was a child. She then proceeded to repeat this fact eight times using different inflections. I wondered if we weren't responding with enough incredulity in our voices! 

This morning I went with Edward to Soho to meet some producers to talk about this documentary series that there's some talk of my presenting. At the moment the production company seem to be into the idea of my presenting it with an old and dear friend, and are interviewing three of them in the next few days. They're looking to see how we interact. Apparently there's some hope we'll turn out to be the next hairy bikers! 

I'm still fairly convinced it will all come to nothing, but I've officially decided to enjoy the ride! 

350 years ago, and Pepys went to Whitehall, where he walked for several hours in St James' Park. He said the park was very lovely of late, no doubt since they'd created some water features. It was here that he discussed the idea that he might receive 60l as payment for his "extraordinary" work at sea, almost a year previously. Strikes me he did very little but eat, sleep and play the lute, but nice work if you can get it! 

He called in on Sandwich, who was back from the country bearing the sad news that their mutual aunt wasn't expected to live a great deal longer. Pepys, as usual, took the news rather matter-of-factly! Different times...