End of Year

To any regular readers, thank you for staying the course through 2020. We were blessed to be allowed for two weeks to have Dau.I and Dau.II back at the home in which they grew up. They decided that nothing would do but they create a gingerbread village to house the ghosts of Christmas Past:

I include a cup for scale, to indicate just how small ghosts are. This year has been longer than usual [hint: 29 February] and, for me and many, a lot lighter on the carbon footprint. I R retire now, so there is no need and small excuse to go off-site at all. It is such a privilege to be able to run about the hill behind the house without having to get into a car: 200 hectares of plague-free dry heath. 

Hang in there until Midnight, lads, we'll all turn into 2021 pumpkins and be the better for it.