OUT IN THE COLD

Winter arrived overnight. Everything was cold and sparkly this morning, as though the Earth had been sprinkled with tiny diamonds.

So, some updates. The car's fixed. I had to watch an episode of Jeremy Kyle to get there, but the car is fixed nonetheless.

Talk about trash telly: a pretty young lady came out, convinced that her partner had been drugging her at night times so that he could cheat on her without her knowing.

Jeremy Kyle sat down in the empty chair and tried hard at not being patronising. Then, to the great boos of the audience, out lolloped the defendant, pulling up his trousers and running a hand nervously through his greasy black hair.

He kissed her once on the cheek and slumped into his seat. The jury had decided whether or not he was guilty, long before Jeremy Kyle ripped open the polygraph test results and called him a liar.

"Your car's ready sir," said a man in a white shirt and a coloured tie, jangling keys at me in the real world.

While my windscreen wipers now work better than ever, my ear does not. The doctor gave me drops but I'm not certain that they're working. I'm still going round with a bit of tissue wedged in my earhole, hearing the world as though my head is stuck in a bucket.

Secret Santa's back as well. I was thinking last night about how we always go through the same cycle organising the family secret santa: excitement, tears, confusion and relief. Excitement because Christmas is on its inexorable trajectory again; tears because someone doesn't want to be part of it; confusion because that person actually does want to be part of it after all, and relief because the kettle's on.

Meanwhile lots of phone conversations with people I've never met. I sorted contents and buildings insurance today and heard the guy on the other end of the phone say,

"Is that your card, or did you pinch it?"

I laughed and told him I wasn't in the habit of nicking cards, then marvelled at how he'd taken the awkwardness out of paying for a thing, using some well-calculated humour. It was all I could do but smile as I read out the long number imprinted on my bank card. Clever.

It is chilly. Winter really nibbles at you sometimes, biting your fingers and chewing your toes, whistling in your ears (which is painful, but I won't go on about it) and freezing your bones.

I wonder what happened to the greasy, unshaven cheater and his pretty girlfriend. Did she take him back? Did the audience boo him off, or has he learned how to choose respect and honour over selfishness? Are there things to learn when you're out in the cold?

I think so.