Pull up a blanket. Pour something lovely.

There are seasons when nothing is technically wrong. And yet everything feels slightly unsteady. You're busy. You're functioning. The fridge is stocked. The diary is full. And still - something feels untethered.

Some dates are invented. Others exist whether we’re here or not.

The first of January turns up because we agreed it should. Fireworks. Resolutions. Slightly aggressive gym memberships. But March? March doesn’t care about our planners. The sun crosses its invisible line in the sky. Day and night stand level for a brief, beautiful moment. The light shifts. The soil warms. The birds absolutely lose their composure.

Winter in Britain arrives with wet elbows and a sense of humour.

Damp hedgerows. Village hall noticeboards curling at the corners. Muddy boots lined up by the door like well-behaved Labradors. It’s the season when the sun clocks off before you’ve found your scarf - and the kettle becomes a minor deity.

Enter The Thermos Flask

There are days when nothing is actually wrong. And yet everything feels loud.

The kettle's on. The house is standing. The people you love are mostly fed and accounted for. And still - your mind is pacing the room like a dog that's missed its walk. Restless, circling, occasionally barking at things that haven't happened yet.