West winds. Quiet morning, cleaner cleaning, cat de-fleaed. The cactus in the sitting-room has a large bud on it which declines to open - such events have their own excitement; like the one when three very pretty little yellow toadstools with scalloped patternings appeared in the herb box on the window-sill in the kitchen. From where? They came and went, as the cactus flower will. Waiting for it meanwhile seems interminal.
To work. Grannyp