It's no sunnier and no warmer than it was here, so it became clear that it is time to break out the big guns for winter.
This means Christmas Cake. To be precise, my mother's home made Christmas Cake, baked in her oven in England this summer and flown back to Missouri with us. Irrigated with finest Waitrose then Remy Martin brandy, and stored in a sealed container to marinade in the delicious alcohol for three months.
The cake is cut, a piece consumed.
The day is transformed.