Feeding Babies

 It rained yesterday, slightly. It was cold. We'd all forgotten what that was like. Went to Quillan but the book lady had bunked off because of the weather; as always, ended up in the cafe in the square by the river, not the Pink Palace, the other one whose name I've forgotten - and here is the owner feeding the baby blackbird that is currently living there. He gets worms from the fishing shop opposite.

John went off back to England and Ryan and Alicia cooked dinner for us and Pete and Nel, to celebrate my birthday, just gone, and Etiennes first, which arrives on Saturday.
(A year!! Impossible.)