Writing from the guest room. A clear drive to London in the mid-afternoon. As far as the M25 the air was a winter fug and the fields and rooves all white. Almost as soon as you headed in from the orbital, among the city’s northern suburbs, the snow was gone bar patches of white in front yards and on the playing fields and a rubble of grubby ice lining the central divider.
A convivial family evening with Yeye, Nainai, Nainai’s daughter R and R’s boyfriend L. The tots exuberant. Going to bed now, tummies heavy with dinner and the contentment of gifts given and received.
On the breath
this December evening: whisky, chocolate,