It's rained at last! (Therefore wiping out satellite connection. Let it.) Bottom of land now deep puddle, which is sign of proper rain here. This seems to have done for locusts too. No sign of any during morning tramp round except for one drowned-looking specimen being roughed up by Beautiful Wimp. Turns out our local infestation was minor. Elsewhere - eg in Bottle-Blondshell's garden - whole swarms flew in, settled; this freaked-out BBs, predictably; she is not attuned to the fascination and beauty of them. Meanwhile Canary Island admin had lined up heavy duty sprayers etc to prevent us turning into Mauretania. Rain and return to (relative) cold should have pre-empted that.

Granny and Beloved have been suffering from sleeplessness; hence blog silence . Yesterday was wipe-out day. Last night dormadina (good sleeping-pill available over the counter here, like every other prescription-only pharmaceutical wonder; odd that) sorted them. Granny woke up at one point with inextinguishable giggles over events of dream she can't now remember, thereby driving Beloved to bed downstairs.

She spent much of yesterday finishing Alan Hollingsworth's Booker winner 'The Line of Beauty' - she nearly gave up on it at first - sensitive analysis of callow youth's first love too boring too wrestle with - gay version much like anything else, give or take the orifices used. (What with all that and the endless lines of Coke, doubt if this book will be big in Texas. One of Grannyp's books was banned there once too. A matter of deep pride. As was the bans imposed in the old South Africa on other books of hers, for a) obscenity, and b) blasphemy). But the brilliant and bitterly funny social analyses of 80's London caught her bit by bit - and in the end the descriptions of f.l more than justified themselves given that AIDS was the background and main metaphor throughout.

Has there ever been a better description of Margaret Thatcher?

'she came in at her gracious scuttle, with its hint of a long-suppressed embarrassment, of clumsiness transmuted into power....The high hall mirrors welcomed her, and in it the faces of the welcomers, some of whom, grand though they were, had a look beyond pride, a kind of rapture, that was bold and shy at once. She seemed pleased by the attention, and countered it cheerfully and practically like modern royalty....'

Later on, the behaviour of her male courtiers is described as ' heterosexual queenery.' Also brilliant. At best this book is as fine - and bitter - and sad - as The Way We Live Now.

(Why the lady was so dangerously unassailable for so long, of course, was the reason Bush is. They believe(d) unshakeably they were (are) right.)

Technical problems remain unresolved; but granny has managed to restore internet access to pre 'por telefonica' state, so that it no longer blocks access to bank statements and the Independent Easy Crossword. etc etc. No more bondage either.

More rain promised. Good. Grannyp