the sky is talcum grey

As with the weather, the cold just does not seem to be going away.

We were forecast snow for this weekend, and yesterday was one of those days that looked spectacular when you were indoors, but if you actually did go out side, then the cold wind sucked the fun out of the day.

Accordingly although the garden is shaggy of grass, and those pesky weeds are starting to grow, I still have little inclination to spend a shivery day out there working.

My personal cold, is now manifesting as a scratchy throat, and the usual feeling of being run down and lacking energy. I've taken to buying a bag of oranges on Monday mornings and having one around 10.00, and another around 15.00, and it is something that I would recommend. However this cold does just seem to be a war of attrition.

As a result of the cold and the recent batch of holidays, the weeks have flown by, and various work things are not nearly as far advanced as I would like them to be. I'll really need to knuckle down at work, put in the hours, and push these things forward, full of the cold, or not.

Last week was an interesting week, we had a tour of the vast art deco gormenghast of a building that we work in, from the walnut panelled office at the top, to the old death cell at the bottom. The panelled office was wonderful, although it was pointed out that the dramatic figuration in the panelling looked like a face, repeated and repeated around the room, always staring at you. So maybe not an office for those with a guilty conscience or an overactive imagination. The death cell, was the cell that prisoners would stay in the night before their execution. Of course that was when the building was a prison, or gaol. The top bit of the goal is all gone, but at the bottom some inevitably remains, including the death cell. It was an irregular shaped room, now with concrete floor, and lined with wooden shelves filled with redundant phones. Despite neighbouring rooms being warm with the fuzzy heat from phone exchanges and computer servers, the death cell remained resolutely cold.

A few meetings, hence my impatience to get things moving along. Nothing worse than constantly reporting back that you have only done so much, and really really intend to do more. My Friday meeting entailed a train trip, so that gobbled up quite a lot of the day. Though it was a lovely sunny day, with the late afternoon sun particularly warm and lazy. Coming into town I spotted a fox basking next to the railway line, despite simply being on the railway side of some banking, with a busy piece of ground beloved by dog walkers, just behind him. And coming home, I spotted the five deer that I've seen a few times, all sitting in a hedgerow, warming themselves in the late afternoon sun. As ever on the train, you look and look, then you see some wildlife in only the merest of glimpses as your viewpoint and perspective changes. But it if you know where to look, but they are wonderful glimpses.

At home, I'm switching my emphasis from building up the home IT set up, which is largely done for the moment, to trying to squirrel away money. That said, I've always loved to follow shares, so investing is more akin to a flutter on the horses than some dry putting away money for a rainy day. Although my shares are down overall, I'm currently looking at a thirty percent return on one business, which with my modest holdings translates into a few hundred pounds.

Quite a few of my shares are ones that are regularly subject to takeover bids, and that never does any harm. I also know their average purchase price, so when I buy shares monthly, I try and buy whatever is below its average purchase price. That way I increase my margins when I sell.

I would like to build up a pretty substantial nest egg over the next few years, on the grounds that the mortgage will come due, and like most folk of my vintage, our endowment policies seem to be producing more depression than anything else. Also the girls are getting to the age where money will need to be found for big ticket things like and education, rather than shiny whistles, and boilings. As ever, having built up my nest egg, I don't imagine that I will hang onto it.

And as I close this, the sky is talcum grey, and snow falls lazily, the bubble gum pink of the camelia flowers the brightest colour behind a tissue of snowflakes.