Ashbourne 17/10.

I’ve been searching the charity shops for a good winter coat to go out rambling in. I found a superb one today – almost pristine condition, very good quality, heavy so it was probably warm, just my size, and only £9.99. I’ll bet it cost £150 new. Just one problem: it was white, which isn’t the best colour for climbing over gates, getting scraped by hedges, and possibly slipping on a cow pat and landing in something green and slimy.

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The supermarket didn’t have my beer. What’s more, the 8-pack I bought last week has a product recall notice on it due to the danger of there being broken glass in the odd bottle. So what do I do with the seven bottles currently in my fridge? I decant them into the new cafetiere/French press that’s been sitting in a cupboard for months, then pour the beer into the glass through the filter. Yay?

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I saw my little friend the Yorkie again today. He’d had a haircut and looked very smart. Thankfully, he wasn’t too protective of it to let me stroke him again.

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I took a look at the cupcakes calendar. It consisted of twelve pictures of standard cupcakes, each with different coloured balls on top. Now that’s what I call creative.

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I realised today that of the two local towns, Ashbourne is the one that’s cut off from the mainstream. That’s nice – unless you happen to want a cinema, some major retailers or a railway station, which the other one’s got but Ashbourne hasn’t.

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And I saw a ghost there today, which acknowledged my presence briefly before moving on. Oddly enough, I was more intrigued than hurt. Life’s just a virtual reality game after all.