Daughter and granddaughter on plane last night. I hate them going as much as I welcome the prospect of time to myself.....You look white says beloved on return from airport; I'm in mourning I say, which is true, sort of. Anyway we all go out to dinner at a German restaurant. OK for this island, London it isn't. And today the cheerful builder turns up and agrees happily to leave the remaining heaps of rock and clear up the rest. So Mr Blackburn is happier too. And the undisturbed animalitos are happier too or would be if they knew anything about it. (I have salamanders that big, the biggest on the island, Mr Blackburn informs me while I feed him consolatory juice.) Sun is kind of coming out. Beloved and visiting painter are off on escorted walk in national park and will come back better informed. I hope. And any minute the trade winds start and it's no rain till October. Merrily, merrily, merrily. (Mrs Blackburn is currently clearing up my kitchen, unasked. But why should I object?) In due course I move beds, again, last time till October. So that's OK. Life is back to normal. And I can write. I hope. grannypxxx