Tenth night of Yule

The sunset was just beginning as I stepped out into the back garden and blóted Iðunn, Eostre, Auschlinde, Mæginde, and Seaxnót with more red wine. (Two of those are UPI.) The sky glowed pale gold, and a climbing plane, probably out of SFO, laid a pink trail.

D.O.P.-T.

There was a touch of frost on the clover this morning, but the nasturtiums seem to have been a bit protected by the tall fence. It was sunny most of the day; Monty was back sleeping on the neighbours' sloping roof, Prudence peeped at me from the roof of the other neighbours' shed, where they're trying to lure her into domesticity, and their mother ate all her breakfast and slept in the teddy bear's lap for a while. Meanwhile the dog wanted out again and again ...

Two more oranges fell overnight, one half-eaten and the other split almost in half on the tree. Both went to compost and I chose a replacement to pick.