Right. Barely 8 o'clock, yet I am all ready. I have put my train ticket in my bag, ascertained that my Oyster card is there too, checked that I have a small bucketload of change for the car park and planned my trip. Oh, and I am, even now, charging the iPod, so that I can listen to the Shaggy Blog Stories podcast. I had not, I admit, bought it. I'd got the book, of course. But Mike persuaded me - or rather, he moaned to such effect that he awakened my maternally caring feelings and I shelled out for the download. I listened, at the time, to the start but had no time for more than the first five minutes. It takes more than an hour and a half to get to London from Diss however and I will discreetly arrange my hair around the earpieces so that I do not look too desperately sad, for I am too old, I know, for an iPod.
So, you want to know all about my visit to London? It is planned with the most casual precision, darlings. I still want to go to the Surrealism exhibition at the V&A - and I expect I'll look in on Kylie, just to tell Martin. And I am going to the Anthony Gormley 'Blind Light' exhibition at the Hayward Gallery, as visited by Diamond Geezer (don't know how to link to that particular post, but it's today's) and I, like the View, and recommended to me by Dandelion, too.
I have a feeling that there was something else I intended to visit, but I can't now remember. I might not have time anyway. It all depends on whether I have lunch or not, probably. I don't eat much, on my own, as it seems to use valuable time, although lunch with a friend turns it into an Event and worth skipping other things for.
PS - by the way, I haven't told you the sad story of Dilly's parents' cat. They are away on holiday, so Dilly's sister D (everyone in the family's name starts with the same letter, so this may become confusing) is cat-sitting for them. *Pugsley* the younger cat (the baby, though younger, is not named after the cat, although they share the same name by coincidence) came hobbling home the other night, and D took him to the vet. It turned out that he had been hit by a car and he had to have his leg amputated. D texted her parents with the news, saying clearly that Pugsley the cat had had the injury.
"Oh no," said Mother D. "Pugsley has had his leg amputated!" "Oh my God, that's awful" exclaimed Father D. "Poor little boy, he's only 8 months old, whatever happened?"
To know it was *only* the cat came as something of a relief.
Pugsley-Puss is doing well and getting about quite agilely. Pugsley-Baby is very well too, can clap and wave and tries to talk; he cannot crawl but can swivel around on his stomach and stand for quite a long time, if his hands are held. He also, for the last week, has had two teeth.