For Christmas it’s all cookies, fudges, and truffles. This was last year’s selection.

So now we have three fucking elves and a story for why the new one is here but the others aren’t (that also allows for them to re-enter the story if we do find them). Adam’s reply to my message sums things up well:

For balanced reporting, this is Chilli. She’s a Spanish street dog who loves the cushy life here, but still hasn’t fully accepted the English weather. She also may be a cat in a dog costume.

Tonight I’ve discovered that ‘raccoon with its hand in a peanut butter jar’ is a whole subgenre of taxidermy. My life is better for this knowledge.

Look at these guys. Having their snack, judging something that obviously needs judging.

This is Roxy. She thinks it’s dinner time, but it is not dinner time. She will sit here and cry at me for the next 30 minutes, at which point it will be dinner time. After dinner, she will insist on going into the garden, where she will look for an apple to eat for afters.

Anyway, here’s a photo (view from my hotel room) from when I was in Venice a week and a half ago. A glorious few days in the depths of television audience measurement.