Bleak House

I write as it blows a gale with driving rain outside my office window. There is no-one in the beer garden smoking and all the parasols have been lowered to stop the Mary Poppins effect. Yes this summer has been the lousiest since records began - its official. I think I'll go and light the fire - on this inclement November afternoon - thats if the logs are n't too damp. Moan, groan.