An interlude

So eventually an interlude where the rain and was replaced by rainwashed blue sky. Quite a long chat with Sonia this morning, who told me to get back to work upstairs so that we could continue to employ her. After some hours of work, I slipped blinking into the outside world, and via the Real Patisserie, where I had something of a consultation about the comparative sweetness of tarts, up to see Janet and Ken, drink tea and snap into the tarts.

Janet and Ken on pretty good form, and Janet's slow but steady recovery means that she felt well enough to go up to London to see the Paul Klee exhibition at the Tate Modern. I must see this before it is done. A good deal of breeze to be shot.  Janet is already beginning to prepare for the Open Houses later in the year.

Felt curiously wan and as if sickening for something a bit later. Lorraine was working at home late this afternoon, and simply slept for an hour as she worked before took Lorraine's London Hospital cure all of a cup of tea and two paracetamol. Seemed to work. Then Lorraine cooked me spaghetti and I lay there propped on the gold sofa like a potentate. All well.