home? or away?
Granny is in London with Beloved. She has got wet a few times, Beloved has put his back out and goes round at an angle like an about to sink Titanic... fortunately it doesn't seem to hurt much so he is not too grumpy; just has to be hauled out of chairs from time to time. Let's hope the chiropracter can put him back together. So meantime, though she does herself get about a bit, she has not a lot to say . She is too wiped out by the consumer fest that is before Christmas London. Nothing like absence on a smaller (much smaller) island for turning even a long-term Londoner like her back into a provincial mouse.
Back on the island: last time she went past the roundabout, the bush parked alongside the pillar has now gone up on top of it. IT IS A TREE. With leaves not fronds, so not a palm tree. Mysterious plastic covered bulges still hang around at the bottom. All will not wholly be revealed till she gets back home again. The Belen - the crib - is in the process of being created in the carpark. All very low key though compared to here. Oxford Street yesterday was empty of cars and full of people with funny heads on pretending to be Postman Pat and such like. Or else in cassocks singing Christmas Carols.
See you all later. Or not. She is doing editing work on her book so may be gone some time. Or maybe not.