Granny is in a damp windy London, along with some not every enthusiastic daffodils. It's called a late Spring. She spent yesterday trudging round equally unenthusiastic estate agents; given the price she's prepared to pay. They disguise this lack of enthusiasm by saying, very brightly. 'Would you be interested in ex-council property?" Actually Granny would be interested in just about anything. But even the above appear to be lacking; and if not lacking, expensive.
Meanwhile back on her island? Last thing before she left Beloved said: "I'll have a surprise for you when you come back."
This is OMINOUS.
The surprise last time was the donkey shed. What surprise this time? A camel house? Or worse still: a donkey in the donkey house?
Surprise from lovely son for Mother's Day (which her granddaughters insist on calling 'Mothering Sunday' - they go to a church primary school wouldn't you know....) was an enormous bunch of flowers which she is now sitting looking at. This surprise was welcome at least. Very.
Even being back in wet and windy London - no this is not an "I'm in love with London' post, has its advantages.
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