Grandad’s 75th birthday. Sausage and mash and chocolate brownies made by our Flo.
We bought him the Fiennes book. From one Bad, Mad Dangerous to know hooligan to another.
In the meantime my word count hovers around zero.
Wish I was in London outside the Libyan Embassy – history in the making. I was there on Wednesday with Charles, very different then, a quiet spring day, pink carnations at the Fletcher Memorial….
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