Monday 17th December 1807

Dear Diary,
How cold it is! I am constantly ashiver! I have spent much of the day warming my cockles by the fire and grateful of Mrs Crutchlow's hot broth. I have remained industrious by writing seasonal epistles to distant friends and my wrist is quite limp with the exertion. Fanny's wrists are equally aching, though she has been kneading baps down at Cobbler's End in the company of Miss Lott and Miss Noring who are expecting guests this evening. I have seen nothing of Mr Fairweather, though he is often on my mind and I wonder how he is engaged these frosty days. I hope his cockles are warm. Mrs Norris is to come for Christmas. I wonder, only to you, if Mrs Crutchlow knows how to stuff a pug!