The object of Ivy's affections appears to have moved in. One minute she's a sad-lonely-git singleton, next she has an Ollie practically living in her bedroom. What do they get up to in there?
Anyway, Nicky and I returned with a boot full of shopping ready for the Christmas overeating festival to find tea freshly brewed. We were told to go away and sit down whilst the young lovers in the photo did all the putting away. Is he this domesticated at his own home? Long may this sort of thing continue.
He's even inveigled himself an invitation to visit on Christmas day, although joining in the silly games will be compulsory and sneaking off for any rumpty-tumpty will be discouraged.
Enough for the moment; off to Don's this evening for mince pies and mulled wine. Hooray.