My blog absence over the last few weeks reflects an unhealthy mental state. What can I say that is honest?
Maybe nothing, on this occasion. Onwards and upwards.
First to Bournemouth, where my niece Poppy had her own troubles: a hall of residence clampdown on the use of microwaves severely curtailing her possibilities for self-catering; and the house-sharing configuration for next year shifting with the Bournemouth sand. (Everyone I've mentioned this to confirms that there's something about girls... though my memories of the happy band with whom I house-shared in Newcastle are all positive. Thirty-three (yow!!!) years later my friend Clare will be visiting shortly.)
Anyway, it was lovely seeing Poppy - an all-too-rare event these days. And I think she has forgiven me for the non-communication which resulted in me frogmarching us around Bournemouth while she was recovering from shingles.
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| Poppy and the banned, sarong-clad microwave |
From Bournemouth I linked up with students travelling to Wimbourne for Bill Palmer's PG shiatsu course. And ten spent 3 days working with the inner organs, trying (and failing) to gain support from them.
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| Bill demos working with the lungs |
I had the bonus of coinciding with my nephew Ol - a temporary tenant while he works another contract for Aardman (aka Wallace & Grommit). Jaws dropped as he took us through a Shaun the Sheep video project that will be released this March. Eventually, the penny dropped and I understood that modelling doesn't mean modelling, it means modelling.
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| Awestruck grandparents gaze nonplussed at genius Ol's stills |
Crash-landing back in France there is at last some news about the car. (Yes, it has taken 3 weeks.) It is repairable so I have access to a courtesy car and can cross "marooned without transport or ability to work" off my list of worries.
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