A stupid sore throat and a high temperature have enforced a couple of days lying low.

Left to my own devices I have slept a good deal, written to Joan out in Deviation Road who sent me a pic of the wonderful pinkie as well as congratulations to me and MJ on our engagement. Idled around listening to music and reading Prevert. His poems are often like cinematic incidents: somebody collapsing in a florist and their money rolling on the floor. Paroles is the name of the book, but I didn't realise that as well as "words" this also means "passwords". Some of the material being written during WW2 and the occupation.

Toby Kenny has surprised us by flying into London and staying with Mum and Mason, which is great. Really looking forward to seeing him.

This morning, however, Anna and Anton called for me, and we went into town for breakfast followed by a short stroll down by the sea. We passed Mama Cherry's place, recently featured on TV with chef Gordon Ramsay and were looking at the press cuttings by the door, and the lady herself arrived to let herself in. Very pleasant woman -- and the restaurant now doing brilliantly.

Talking to MJ of course and missing her horribly. One piece of good news is that Jack and Kate now have school places here too... All is well.