Back in London 2 weeks after the funeral. No time to say much. Grief hazed over by Spanish trip - beautiful Spain, full of wild flowers which we were assured were 'past their best' but even 'past their best' made our so brave, for our volcanic island so many - flowers seem so sparse and inadequate. Thistles, acquilegia, lavender, mallow, endless poppies, so lush, plentiful, long-legged; ah me. They too, seemingly, have had a lot of rain. And now it's back in London, confronting this and that admin problem. Another time I will write more about my aged dad - grief re-emerges with reconnection with his soil, his land -but no time now as I have to head for bus, beloved, Oxfordshire. Have succeeded - can blame grief, stress perhaps - in losing both English and Spanish mobiles - both probably nicked - first on airport on way back to Spain, second from handbag in Hammersmith - fat lot of use it will do thief - aged Alcatel, with no money in it and Spanish simcard - but theft also included beloved's passport. Oh dear. Granny has sorted this, but will involve lengthy session in Passport House next Wednesday - could do without this; seems it's the fate of grieving to confront such things.
Good things: reprochememt with politically deplorable elder brother - who thinks I am equally politically deplorable so that's alright - but he is the only brother I have, and older and more tolerant I'm glad of it.
Enough. Off. More anon. xxx grannyp
