As if there wasn't enough to worry about, Herbie has something that isn't quite a scab, and isn't a tick either, a small round lump just under the skin, about the size of a piece of lead shot. The vet can't see us till Friday morning, because it's not an emergency. I never tell them that things are urgent unless I'm pretty darn sure, but I worry anyway.
Snow predicted for tomorrow night, and the following night, and the one after that. I've got one new book to read, thanks to Borders closing down and everything is now half price, but it's sad to see the empty shelves, the last few books huddled together like refugees. It was once the bright future of book-selling, but now... It's my own fault for buying books from Amazon. RIP Borders UK.