Crockery lies forsaken in the dishwasher. Clothing, laundered but unfolded, languishes in the airing cupboard. Piles of post unopened is our only Christmas decoration. For this is the house of the living dead, where even the cats walk on eggshells for fear of disturbing their human counterparts.
Since Sunday, our household has become one of the statistics in a growing volume of flu or flu-like illnesses which seem to have gripped about 90% of the British Isles. Fortunately, things are improving. Today I have managed to rise from my sick bed and start attacking some of the tasks that suddenly became urgent, including updating the ICT in Education website. I cannot guarantee that people will receive Christmas greetings from me this year, but I will try. If I fail, forgive me: the thought is there.