Temperatures still reliably in the twenties. Pleasant breeze as we walk down to the Blue Song. Whitecaps in evidence. Commonly known in British English as white horses. And apparently in French as moutons - fair enough.
Beverley busy as usual. Actually busier, as she’s drawing up seating arrangements for next week’s Christmas dinner theatre put on by Kyrenia Amateur Dramatic Society. Happily I am reminded when J asks if it’s next week. Somehow December still feels like distant future - as opposed to Monday. Temperature is deceptive, and this despite twenty one Christmases in Cyprus - beginning in 2000 minus two in Canada and one in England.
Sun setting behind the mountain at quarter to five as we walk home. Just over three weeks until the winter solstice, and of course we’re living on the north slope of a mountain. Much later sunset on the south side.
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