I trust you all realised that I have reached the stage in life where all excitement is too much for me. It was grand to have James here. Yesterday, his son Alistair (now a graduate, gainfully employed in Glasgow) came over and we all(=Helen, Archie, Helen's youngest son Fergus)  shared a delicious take-away. Alistair and Archie are first cousins, and seem to be good friends as well. Alistair told me that Archie said that our recent Italian trip would have been impossible but for my knowledge of the language.

This isn't true -- although it is true that I used Italian a lot more this time than I had in Palermo in January. But it was enormously gratifying to hear that Archie thought so.

I will try to write properly tomorrow.

The two nights James was here, I have had both cats in bed with me. Paradox -- we are trying to change her name to Persia, but I don't think it's going to work -- always sleeps on a folded blanket at the foot of the bed.  Perdita, on the rare occasions when she joins us, curls up next to me. The trouble with that arrangement is that when I get up for a nocturnal pee, as I often do, and then try to snuggle up against her again without disturbing her, I find there is a gap in the duvet which allows an icy blast down my spine.