It feels like Christmas, not Hallowe'en...the lampposts here on Hoxton Street are all wrapped in Christmas lights. It's been snowing. I'm cozied up with the Currie-Cat and we are eating baked plums.

Plums always remind me of my Nana Rita, whose special "Plum Crazy" is a family legend that I remember from my childhood. Plum Crazy was an extremely strong plum liqueur that she made from scratch, in a large keg that she rolled with her feet every winter night, for months, while knitting and watching TV. I remember my mom and dad telling me that when they stopped in to visit, they had to take turns rolling the Plum Crazy as well.

I've learned how to knit now, thanks to my Auntie Ruth. So, now to track down a recipe for something akin to Plum Crazy before plum season is over (maybe a couple of weeks at best), so I can spent my cold London weeknights knitting and rolling Plum Crazy, with Currie Cat by my side.

OK, so I sound like a 78 year old lady, but I'll leave the London carousing to Winehouse.