The nights are definitely closing in now. I’ve just come back from lunch at our village pub where the log fire and hand pulled Guinness were very welcome. The pub is just over the road, so hardly a trek away, but still- that whipping, biting wind, the bareness of the trees, the general dark cold days that have appeared without warning, somehow taking us from autumn to winter like a shutter coming down- Brrrrr. It’s Sunday and I’m working a few extra hours as the latest issue of the magazine I edit alongside Steve Nash just come back from the printer’s, so there are launches to organise and copies of the magazine to post, publicity stuff to organise etc. etc. and that has to be done around my work commitments. Running Spelt rarely feels like a chore, I love the energy behind it and…