December, it marks an end for our side of the world. It is also the darkest month of the year, at least in the Northern hemisphere; the only one I know I’m afraid. It is a difficult month for melancholic temperaments; driving home for Xmas (in the past), family reunions, compulsory happiness, heartpricking gifts and hardest of all the year’s summary. Now, let’s see: work, Mickey starts the preliminary school, work, Mickey and I in Athens, mama falls and breaks hip, back to work, London in a hurry, work, summer, July rain, August rain, work, mama in The Hague not going out at all, conference, Venice, book layout, book layout with hick-ups, small prize for a short story (good one), in Athens for conference (good one), book layout, work meeting and the year is almost finished. It doesn’t look good at all. If only I think that my summaries in the past were lists of the works that I had made (as good points) and lists of worthless personal contacts ending in a continuous unbeatable loneliness (as minus points)… Today Mickey and I bought a small Xmas tree in a pot. We carried it on the bike, on his kiddie’s seat. Once at home, we realized that it is a bit skew; like the year that passed, I thought; like a rocket, Mickey thought.