A flurry of juggling. Back from Italy, and the laundry needed doing in a trice. There was silence outside at the pond - the pump had siezed, so my only day at home was partly taken by replacing the broken part, and becoming an instant expert in outdoor rewiring. All done, and Hannibal the goldfish was happy.
Lawns mowed, clothes hung, kids contacted, weekends organized, bags unpacked and repacked for Sri Lanka, then - bliss! - an escape to my favourite restaurant with a lovely supportive friend, to laugh, catch up on gossip, and home to watch a film lying on the sofa like sleepy puppies.
It's amazing what you can do in twelve hours, when it's the only twelve hours available! And then landing in seat A1, on the flight to Colombo, in the peaceful dark of mid-morning, trying to remember the song I had put together in my head at the airport... well, if I forget it, it'll come back if it's worth remembering.
On the headphones, 'Every rose has its thorn'. Turn the volume up. The streetlights rise, the wheels bump, and I'm on the other side of the world.
