Shortest day

I finished the Laura Lippman book; it did not get any better. It was not a bad book, but very slow. The author did not tell the reader some essential information which some characters knew about -- despite the book being almost entirely character based, the author did not report conversations on this particular topic. Hence when the denoument, such as it was, came, it was accompanied by a sense that some cheating had been going on. Too tired to think much on getting home from work last night, so did a few killer su dokus. Today it is the shortest day of the year. On the 0719 from Kingston yesterday, I saw the dawn just as the train pulled into Wimbledon station. On the same train today, it was completely dark at the same point on the journey. The next time I travel to the office it will be the new year and the time tide will have turned. I tell myself that my mood should lift too, with the prospect of Spring and lighter days. (I tell myself this every year.)