A drop of sunshine

Sunny Monday. After a poor night, was woken at five thirty by the cat writhing around my head like an atrocious weasel.

Once up and about, I felt curiously relaxed. Perhaps it was because Betsy placed a huge smiley face on the wall in front of me today, and had invited people to add things to it. I added a kiss curl (which was "improved" by Betsy) and eyes. Also worked with Anna, a nice kiwi designer who has just won a freelancer of the year award. Surgical site infections again today in between conversations about cannibalism.

At lunch I popping out to buy some hummus and cat food. I walked through the ghastly Frank Banfield Park. This, however, had some crocuses, which my eyes greedily sucked at as I hurried past the knots of schoolkids in headscarves tucking into fast food. All of us drawn out by the yellow face in the sky.

A long and funny email from Trace today, recalling her recent adventures: "But to cut a potentially long story short, I then worked as a chef at a Osho Leela (mad religious centre involving cathartic shouting) where worked under amazing chefs to create splendid foods for people doing shouty meditation retreats... then became housekeeper and general lackey to ... a clairvoyant (Madame Sosostris, with a wicked pack of tarot) who lives in deepest Somerset."

This is where she remains. It all seems too good not to visit her at some point.

Home and beginning to plot an short break to Guernsey. Yippee!