Listen to this Jethro Tull song here to find out what's been going through my mind this morning...
'I believe in fires at midnight, when the dogs have all been fed.
A golden toddy on the mantle; a broken gun beneath the bed.
Silken mist outside the window -Frogs and newts slip in the dark.
Too much hurry ruins a body: I'll sit easy; fan the spark.'
'Kindled by the dying embers of another working day.
Go upstairs: take off your make-up -Fold your clothes neatly away.
Me, I'll sit and write this love song
As I all too seldom do -Build a little fire this midnight.
It's good to be back home with you.'
jI'm sure it's because Ben's away, and we had a long phone chat as I sat by the log fire last night. He was in a snowy Copenhagen, once again in a hotel chosen by the secretary at work, once again in the red light district!
He ended by saying: 'See you late tomorrow night!' Poor man, I had to remind him it was only Wednesday night, and he gets back on Friday at midnight...