We've packed quite a lot into a couple of days with visitors coming and going and little time to devote to any one of them. In fact our eldest daughter complained that it was too rowdy for her and why hadn't her Dad and I made do with just one child - her! I laughed. It reminded me of Flannie Flagg's Standing in the Rainbow; the bit where Bobby's sister, Anna Lee, repeatedly annoyed by her younger brother asked her mother why she'd gone on to have anther child after her. The truth of the matter is that our three children were noisy enough on their own but as their families grow, the boisterousness grows exponentially and yes, when they gather together it can be overwhelming.

Our friend's daughter-in-law stayed over on Saturday night. She'd attended a week's course in Devon and left this morning for her home in the east of England. As we waved her goodbye, we piled in our car to meet Becky, Paul and Aaron at Burlescombe for a pre-lunch walk. There was a welcome promise of spring in the air.

As well as Karen, Kate also arrived for a quick visit and when Kate arrives Becky and Vicki arrive too. They're especially keen to see her as her pregnancy progresses. Kate came with a baby bag crammed with baby F-L's 'bottom drawer' but with no night attire and no walking footwear, or as William commented, no appropriate boots!

I spent yesterday cooking and have resolved to spend time assembling a repertoire of less complicated dishes for a crowd. I'd definitely bake Lorraine Pascale's cookie and cream brownies again. They were an undisputed success - a straw poll around the table awarded them an average of 8.5/10. They're very light and fudgy without being wet.

When Becky was a little girl she wrote a poignant news item following Guy Fawkes' night. She drew a picture of a bonfire and fireworks and wrote, 'The is someone else's bonfire and someone else's fireworks'. Imagine how uncomfortable we felt when we read her work at a parents' evening! We'd made a high handed decision based on 'money going up in smoke' with no regard to a small child's wishes, despite being indulged with firework parties when we ourselves were children.

I regard St Valentine's Day as I do New Year's Eve, that is, an overrated festival. Or do I?

I share the office with three men. The first had red roses delivered to the office yesterday so he could present them to his wife before leaving for work this morning - he's the oldest of the three and the most romantic. The second bought his wife an iphone (but couldn't bring himself to go without so bought one for himself at the same time) and the third, at the last moment, booked a table at probably the only restaurant in town with any available tables; because, he said, his wife changed her mind and decided she did want to go out after all. If I know anything at all about the male-female relationship, he'd completely misread the first message. (image courtesy of Gordon Coldwell and David Mills)

We tell each other, in our usual common sense fashion, that it's all a waste of money and that love is for all year not just one day, but if I'm honest I wouldn't turn down a card and some flowers. Just don't tell Eric!

As the appointed day draws closer, I find myself reflecting on what life will be like after 31st March. Will I continue to set a morning alarm; will I be disciplined enough to walk every day; what will it be like to be able to drop everything and go off in the caravan or go visiting friends and family and perhaps most importantly, how will I manage on a reduced income...? One thing is without question, I'll have more time to listen to day time radio; I've missed that during the working week but weekends are different and yesterday, after our very grey morning walk, as I was pottering in the kitchen I listened to a wonderful adaptation of Private Peaceful, by the author of War Horse, Michael Morpurgo who played the part of the vicar in the radio play.

I've always maintained that when I no longer work I will be able to reduce the cost of my clothing and our weekly food bills. I imagine I'll spend more time shopping around for household bargains and as I listened to BBC Radio 4's Food Programme today, I was convinced that for health and financial reasons, we should eat more meat-free meals. If you haven't heard of Denis Cotter whose restaurant Cafe Paradiso in Cork has been described as, not only one of the best vegetarian restaurants but one of the best restaurants, may I suggest you listen on iplayer whilst it's still available or visit his website where there is a monthly recipe archive. Another contributor to the programme, Yotam Ottolenghi is, unlike Denis, not a vegetarian but says that in his culture meat eating is mostly reserved for celebrations and festivals. This isn't a bad principle and his very popular Guardian series, The New Vegetarian, provides a mouthwatering range of recipes. The programme stressed the importance, when preparing meat-free meals for the non-vegetarian palate, of umami. One of the five basic tastes and described as the satisfying "brothy" or "meaty" taste with a long lasting, mouthwatering and coating sensation over the tongue, it's clear why conjuring this taste is so important when designing dishes for people like Eric who, when presented with a meal without meat, will often comment that it would make a good accompaniment for a rasher or two of bacon, a chop or a steak. I've got my work cut out but will soon have plenty of time to devote to it.

Our lunch today didn't follow the meat-free principle but it's what I fancied when I was compiling the weekly shopping list. I'm almost embarrassed to say we had steak and onion pie but in its defence the meat was a cheap cut (skirt) and from the farm shop's own herd. My other money saving activity this morning provided us with several pounds of orange and ginger marmalade. I'll come clean, I used a tin of seville orange pulp, adding preserved ginger and throwing in a jar of expensive mature Oxford marmalade which was a little bitter for our taste. The result probably wouldn't win any prizes in the World's Original Marmalade Awards, but it is very good. Following the orangey theme, I also used up the last few tablepoonsful of Curaçao triple sec to soak the sultanas for the sultana loaf cake.

I haven't progressed to Kindle even though most of the family are converts. I'm not reluctant, in fact I can see a number of advantages. When I'm ready to switch off my bedside light, Eric turns on his tiny over-Kindle light and continues reading and I sleep on undisturbed. Storage too would be a factor in the transition. Some of our books are in boxes in the loft. What good is that!? The reason I haven't joined the e-book revolution is that a friend passed on a number of paperbacks either written by or about Joyce Grenfell and it's taken an enjoyable few weeks to read the lot. I've loved them, every chapter. Born into the Langhorne family; (Joyce's aunt was socialite Nancy Astor who lived at Cliveden - now both a private hotel and a National Trust property) Joyce met royalty, politicians and other noteworthy folk, and appears to have lived a very full life whilst keeping her feet firmly on the ground. I was sad to discover she would have received the honour of Dame Commander of the British Empire (DBE) had she lived another few months. She was not quite 70 years old when she died. I thoroughly recommend her autobiography, "Joyce Grenfell Requests the Pleasure" and "In Pleasant Places". She paints very evocative images of life in the first half of the 20th Century, particularly: a privileged woman's contribution to war torn Britain and the bygone era of the theatre, when revue was a popular genre.

Since exhausting my Joyce Grenfell collection, I've read Secret Life of Bees and am now half way through Nevada Barr's, Bittersweet which seems very familiar. I'm not sure whether I've read it before or I'm experiencing déjà vu? Several years ago when I was visiting Hinds College, Raymond, Mississipi, I had the pleasure of meeting Nevada Barr who was presenting a guest lecture. The book I read, and enjoyed, in preparation was Deep South. It featured a death on the Natchez Trace Parkway, an atmospheric road I knew from previous visits. The link between these two books other than their setting, is simply the charity shop from whence they came.

And, what on television is worthy of note? Without a doubt, the Danish political drama Borgen, created by the same production company as the Killing, (which I didn't watch). It makes a Saturday night in front of the TV entirely tolerable. Not that we relied on TV entertainment yesterday evening...

At the risk of repeating myself, did I tell you the weekend begins on Friday. I'm in the office on Friday, just as any other day, but the feeling of anticipation heralding the eagerly awaited 48 hours of rest and relaxation is there from the minute I get into work, turn on my computer and walk down the corridor to place my lunch in the fridge. There's a different atmosphere - Ian is just one of a number who work from home on Fridays; the car park and the meeting rooms remain largely empty and there are fewer phone calls. This Friday just after midday a very excited Kate and Hannah, fresh from their 20 (21) week scan, called from their car to say that baby F-L, who is developing as expected, is almost certainly a GIRL! How exciting and what a surprise; a granddaughter.

That wasn't the only exciting news. At bedtime, as I was snug in my bed with my Joomla text book (I admit, not everyone's cup of tea), Kate called with confirmation of my milestone birthday weekend booking. She's discovered a small manor house rental with room for all the family, a swimming pool and a full size pool table. In recent months, suggestions for gifts to mark the occasion have ranged from an ipad to an expensive piece of jewellery but this is far nicer and something to look forward to.

So that was Friday...

Yesterday we popped over to Becky and Paul's with their calendar. It's been the custom over the last few years for Eric to create a family photo calendar and there was much dissent in the ranks when we decided to make a saving and there were no calendars under the Christmas tree. Not wishing to prolong family disharmony and receiving an email alert, from the photo website, to a substantial discount, Eric quickly designed a late calendar and the rest, you know...

Savings and budgets are in the forefront of our minds as retirement approaches and we spent this morning sieving through our regular and anticipated expenditure. For some reason I woke up this morning with money on my mind but with the job done I'm enjoying that feeling I get when I know exactly what's financially what. It's much like the sense of satisfaction you get when you 'spring clean' cupboards, file paperwork or put CDs and books into alphabetical order. And, that wasn't all; I was culinarily industrious this morning - I find that comforting too. I made a number of shepherds pies for the freezer and another for lunch. It's surprising how far you can stretch minced lamb with the addition of some vegetables and lentils. Despite being out of season, I also bought plums at the supermarket. They were on offer and tempted me to make a crumble - Nigel Slater's plum (greengage) and almond crumble (Kitchen Diaries) to be precise. A double dose of comfort food - tasty!

I love Friday evenings; the promise of the weekend and two mornings without an alarm call. It won't be long before this becomes the norm which is a very pleasing thought. So how did we pass the weekend? I made pastry: a Yotam Ottolenghi quiche recipe which used up 200g of the leftover Christmas Stilton and the 'perfect' apple pie - according to Si and Dave, the Hairy Bikers. The pastry for the pie had added grated lemon zest; a delicious twist.

We walked around Cothelstone Hill on Saturday afternoon, observing some wonderful skies, then in the evening caught up with the first two episodes of Borgen. As West Wing devotees, who've watched all seven series no less than three times, and are eager for a good political drama fix, we are happy to declare it, promising.

Today Vicki, Paul and the boys came over to lunch (roast pork and apple pie) and afterwards as the daylight began to fade, we made our way to the local Community Orchard for the Wassail - the annual ceremony to ensure a fruitful crop of apples. Armed with whistles and bells and muffled against the cold we followed a line of folk along a trail of lanterns into the orchard and towards the spectacular bonfire, mulled cider and apple cake. More images here.

Old apple tree, We wassail thee
And hoping thou will bear
For the Lord doth know where we shall be and apples another year.
For to bear well and to bloom well so merry let us be,
Let every man take off his hat and shout to the old apple tree.
Old Apple Tree we wassail thee and hoping thou will bear
Hats full, caps full, three bushel bags full
And a little heap under the stairs.

PS. As I prepared Sunday lunch I listened to Paul Johnson, the guest on Desert Island Discs. What an interesting chap (over 80 years old and still writing five hours a day on a regular basis - oh, and painting a watercolour each morning!); a great playlist too. I particularly liked 'Look for the Silver Lining' by Margaret Whiting.