Winter has officially arrived. I established this when I went out to my van this morning and found that it has acquired a rather crunchy coating of ice. Ten minutes and two jugs filled with water later, I was on the road and raring to go.
Only once I'd had the heaters on full whack and the vents pointed firmly at me could I begin to forgive my van for forcing me out of bed earlier than I otherwise normally would.
However, it seemed to be a case of one step forwards and two steps back as later on, when I wanted to clear my windscreen, I learned that one of my wiper-blades had given up the ghost. Just before Christmas too! Fantastic, I thought. Today is not panning out to be a great day.
After some reflection on the broken wiper-blade, and cursing at my van for eating into my Christmas budget, I realised that now probably isn't actually the worst time to fork out the money for a replacement.
At least at the moment I'm quite jolly, enjoying the run up to Christmas and of course treating myself to the odd mince pie or two. If the blade had broken after Christmas, I would be poor, lacking in mince pies and most definitely a little bit chubbier than I am now.
So I won't be letting this glitch put a downer on my Christmas spirit – it would have hit me a lot harder during the post-Christmas blues.
All is forgiven where my trusty Ford Transit is concerned. Now I just need to work out whether I can get away with buying my wife another scarf this year...