Everything they say about the British love of dogs is true.

I had to accompany the Year 10's on a geography field trip this morning. We walked past a preschool at one stage, and, while I was overcome by the extreme cuteness of the toddlers on the playground, the kids and teachers appreared utterly unmoved. A bit later, an elderly lady with two dogs walked by, and the air was filled with cries of "Adorable!" "Here, beautiful doggie!" and "Bless him, look at his little tail!". (Seriously, these are word-for-word quotes).

Just for the record, I'm not really a dog person.

The field trip itself was rather gruelling. The exercise involved the kids taking various measurements at numerous points along a river. Lots of mud, lots of ice-cold water, fog, and temperatures that didn't get much above freezing. We set out at 9am and got back at 3.30 this afternoon, and by 10.30 everyone was already very muddy and some people were completely sodden. And they had to stay that way till we got back to school, poor things.

This evening has been nice; my wool arrived and I've knitted a good stretch of my scarf. It's looking quite pretty. Of course, if my past track record is anything to go by, something will go hideously wrong with it tomorrow evening and I'll give up in despair.