Pink Mist

It really is dark when I set off in the morning now, it won't be long until I have to scrape the frost off the windows so far I've been lucky but I'm sure that won't last long after we get back. The upside of these pre dawn starts is that I get to see the sun rise over the fens and it is beautiful. The dawn light catches the early morning mists turning them and the surrounding countryside various shades of pink. As the days get shorter this pink treat is retreating westwards, today it was March tomorrow it will be the road to Chatteris.

There must be an important trial going on in Norwich because for the past few weeks I've past on my way to work a convoy going eastwards of 4 police cars and typical prisoner transporter, white boxy vehicle with high up blacked out windows - they must be hellish for the travel sick claustrophobic criminal. Simon's boss has seen the same convoy, on his stretch of the A47, heading towards Swaffham.

One of the hints and tips that a bride is supposed to take notice of, is making sure that your hands look beautiful on the day. I'm a bit stuffed here - I've got a big scab (relatively) on the back of my left hand as I managed to scrape some of the skin off when I was ferreting about in my briefcase for my passport on my way to Sweden last week. Half my fingernails have broken or split, I've got paper cuts and a scar on my middle finger. I think the joys of photoshop may have to come to my aid.