Back

Well well. Granny is back home. Land is brown, burnt, but owing to remains of the many plants still standing it's also PRICKLY. Only useful thing she's done so far is UNPACK. (Oh the virtue...) She's also set up her MAC here, to discover it will only access her email if she dials expensive UK number. Oh dear.

Apart from which, after week, 10 days, of looking at boats, olive trees, citrus trees laden with unpicked fruit (unlike her poor little wind-blown things) she has little to say. She did not find her long-lost 3 times grandmother on Minorca, only streets of 18th century mansions with sash windows where she might have been brought up. Otherwise it was an array of small and pointed hills, dairy farms with Friesian cows, reminding granny of her own native home county, Kent, and little roads which led nowhere: central Minorca remains untouched. Meanwhile the coast has sprouted discreetly placed but over large holiday villages ('dream homes') red-roofed, white-walled, like gnome towns, complete with chimneys, lamps perched on fake dead trees, rustic olive-wood balconies, etc etc. Beloved swore he saw a fake well somewhere too. Tourists have to play the part of gnomes; they do it all too well, if in different kinds of hat. Said tourists alas, briefly, included Granny, Beloved and Aged Cousin, who got there by mistake; or rather by not organising themselves, instead trusting beautiful travel agent in Mallorca/Majorca. (Aged Cousin always has beautiful female functionaries. Some of them are efficient. Some he has been known to get off with; though, alas, he has screwed it up with his other beautiful travel industry love. She came to dinner, he twitched, she was cool. Some people (mostly male?) never learn - even by the time they are 70 odd.)

Beloved of course had forgotten to bring his driving licence. Person most interested in landscape of both islands - ie Granny - was forced to do all the driving. Aged cousin sat in back, sleeping. Beloved sat in front, crying at intervals 'Watch the road.' Granny changed gear, turned corners, etc, etc, as required. But she did catch the odd prehistoric monument just the same at great danger to all, no doubt,

She will pick up proper threads in due course. Lovely agent wants her to try and pull some of the family stuff together, She may try. But not until she ceases to feel lost in no-man's land, the inevitable follow-up to a whole month away. Feline Houdini was pleased to have a cuddle. This cheered her up too no end. By the sounds and smells emanating from the kitchen, Beloved is bringing himself back into land by starting to cook.

Granny will try to catch up with her blogging friends now. Back tomorrow.