To Crewe Hall, Cheshire, for an overnight stay, courtesy of my elder sister and her family. Not that they live in this extraordinary mid-Victorian pile, of course; we were there for bed and breakfast on our way north to Cumbria.
This is an ornate interior, with every surface heavily encrusted with pattern and texture - a wonderful backdrop for weddings and big events.
A library, a Long Gallery, and its own chapel, not to mention an extensive conference centre built in the stable quarter.
Before we left home, a surprise. My younger sister is given to sending unusual vouchers as gifts, so I thought to return the compliment, ordering a selection of sausages and ham from a company called Dukeshill, to be delivered to her address on Monday, 19th December. All morning I imagined her surprise on receiving the parcel. Would she be able to fit it all into her freezer? Would that much sausage be a welcome addition to their diet?
Just after lunch there was knock on our door: a delivery man with a familiar looking box. Somehow the parcel had come to us, not to my sister, who lives in another part of the country. In sorting out this problem, the company very generously sent another box to my sister, leaving us to wonder whether we have room in our freezer for all that sausage. Not often that you get to give your sausage and eat it.
In Cumbria, a combination of drizzle and high winds. We did some of our regular walks under irregular conditions. Sale Fell, above Bassenthwaite, in very high winds. We thought it best to walk round the end of the fell and through the woodland, rather than going to the summit of even this modest fell.
Here, my husband at the site of the old Wythop church, a sheltered spot where we often eat our sandwiches.
And, finally another home - this time a deserted farmhouse, just beginning to lose its windows. We often speculate as to which of a combination of factors - access roads, mains services, ownership - proved crucial to its abandonment.