I have spent the weekend at home by myself.
I'm rarely in London on these days between Christmas and new year. It seems curiously empty, or at least the bit where I live is. (The west end is mobbed with bargain hunters. I'm sure none of the shops have such an excellent window display as this one.)
I came back on Friday. Despite the raging storms my flight was delayed by only 20 minutes. It still took me hours to get home. One of those journeys where every decision you make is the wrong one. Wrong platform, wrong train from Luton and when I finally got to London Bridge I had clearly chosen the wrong station as I had another long wait as there appeared to be no electronic informaton, no staff and no trains.
My flat was freezing when I got in.
I went round to my friend Ms M's as she had collected my phone from work and I needed to find out who had been trying to contact me. No-one apparently. Walking back the only passer-by I saw was a large fox which crossed the pavement in front of me.
On Saturday I mooched about in the morning. I had a parcel to collect so quite welcomed the walk to the depot as it was a beautiful cold, sunny morning. Every year I get sent a calendar from Margaret Howell and I guessed that's what it would be. The calendar retails for £20 and this is the fifth one I have been sent. As I have only bought one really expensive thing from that shop in the last 6 years this seems quite generous on their part. If I every get rich I will buy all my clothes from Margaret Howell.
In the afternoon I went into town and met London Sister. We had tea at the National Gallery like two characters from a Barbara Pym novel. Afterwards I went to Cos and bought a white top with blue stripes and a white jersery with blue stripes.
Today I went for a walk with Ms M, did some housework, cooked dinner, ironed, listened to R4 and packed. I'm off to San Francisco in the morning although not at the scraich of dawn.