The house is energy inefficient. There are gaps and gapes and draughts where the cold air sneaks in passing the warm currents on their way out.
A man - expert in these things - came round and kindly offered us his advice.
He fitted balloons up the disused chimneys, told us how we could use less energy and save some money, removed the pretty but energy hungry globes with the delicate filaments that emit spectrums of brightness and atmosphere and warmth. Then handed us a free power usage monitor.
Living on a main road means it doesn't ever get very dark. There're the street lamps - high and bright - the pink glow of the shop sign opposite and the yellowy green hues of the strip lights from the takeaway nearby.
Upstairs, the curtains are not quite drawn: small theatres where nothing happens when I look across.
Behind the house though it's different. You have to strain to see the lacy dark shapes that are trees against the empty sky. The only light comes from the illuminated stairwells of the faraway tower blocks which from here look like stars.
It's a little chilly outdoors and if I wasn't on duty this afternoon, I'd fancy getting myself comfy in an armchair - feet up. There'd be some tasty provisions within reach and I might have some sort of reading matter to hand too whilst I settle down to a weekend matinee. Or three.
Since this blog is presently held together by - well - (mostly) cake batter, and because I had a micro moment yesterday when I felt 'seasonal' - here is a pretty picture of nice things appropriate to what I've just said.