Scotch on the rocks

Ah, scotch on the rocks. That's how we kick back. Sweet.

The final legge

This is the long bit, the rubbish bit before the nice bit, the bit where work will somehow crank up and chuck all sorts of silliness at me before I limp over the line at some point on Christmas Eve. Already I'm due to head north for the first few days of Christmas week to cover annual leave. My hope - and it's a naive one - is that I'll be able to focus purely on what needs doing there, but I'm pretty sure there are going to be a few slippery balls to catch on the hoof, as it were. And this week brings the team Christmas meal. I'm not going to grumble about that as we're off to a wickedly good fine-dining Indian restaurant. I've had to clarify my position (vegan) to them ahead of time and we've managed to make sure I get a  decent bit of tucker. And let's be fair, if the Indians can't cook that stuff well, no one can. So I'm looking forward to that. But there will be a sting in the tail of this week somewhere. I can see it. I dreamt about work last night so it's playing on my noggin.

Anyway, in other news, I have a Slambo miniature being painted for me by a true pro. I'll unveil him when he gets back and give details of the dauber. 

Vegan mushroom pate anyone? I've got a tonne of it. Freshly made by me. And it's almost nice...