I hate days like this. Where nothing has happenned yet. Nothing of interest, nothing of note.Yesterday evening, I worked on the church website until it looked better, then sat with my knitting swishing through my hands. I am not very far away from finishing this item, and then it will be on to the next christmas gift.I love watching the yarn twist and swish and move into knots that form fabric and eventually things. I am cabling and decreasing. The lovely shapes swoop and dive.Then Tom and I baked bread, for tonights party. I love kneading bread too, feeling the strands of the ingredients combining in to a silky smooth lump. Our loaf is sitting waiting with chutney to be taken to a bonfire party at Christelle and Luke's this evening. I must rummage in my cupboard to see if I can find something of a drink nature to take with us.Just outside it sounds like a war zone as a neigbours fireworks display goes off, very close to our house. The streets smell gorgeous, of woodsmoke and gunpowder. I must find a hoodie for this evening too.Tom is stood in our kitchen, eating neat mint sauce from a jar, watching the radio as he listens. The BBC today has been interesting, what with the lack of news. As someone has pointed out, it's like at Christmas, when there are just pre recorded programmes, full of unusual and lovely things. I remember one Christmas, stealing away at my grandparents to listen to Stephen Fry read Harry Potter. At least I think that is what I remember. With the softness of the spare bed, and some books and knitting, and a bag of pistachios to keep me company.