Once upon a time, I was able to sleep until thirteen o’clock in the afternoon, eat a chocolate orange with my breakfast cup of tea and then go out into the fine city of Norwich to wander aimlessly round the shops until closing time.

Now, even when I’ve been on night-shifts, I can’t sleep in past ten and feel rather nauseous if the first thing I eat isn’t at least vaguely healthy. I would certainly never dream of spending masses of money that I don’t have on clothes that I don’t need. I think they call this growing up.

I’ve been increasingly tired of late – I reckon it’s the double-edged sword of autumn that’s doing it. I love the crisp days in the sunshine because it’s finally cool enough for me to enjoy without melting, but with the long nights on their way, there just isn’t enough natural light to keep me going. It’s the Celtic curse – our skin hates the sun but our energy levels love it.

Anyway, on this sunny Saturday my plan is thus: go a-wandering and pick blackberries, come home and make various jams and chutneys and pickles and such. Have an early night and enjoy tomorrow morning – pre thirteen o’clock.

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