29th August

The journey back from Cornwall was fine. There were no raucous hen parties which there well
could have been on a Bank Holiday Friday and no fractious toddlers, It is a beautiful trip over the Tamar bridge and along the beach at Dawlish. Although the temperatures soared over the weekend, it is always cool here at home, so I did not wilt in the heat.
I saw the consultant on Tuesday following my CT scan. She is incredibly tall, slim and beautiful.
It was sort of good news really as though cancer in the liver has spread, the rest of it is about the same, so it may be that I have to send the Christmas cards after all. Oh, bother. I am to have an MRI scan to check out my bones as my mobility is getting very poor/
Tiger has been staying with me. WE intended to go blackberrying and make some jam but we could not find any nearby in the usual places, so she kindly did useful jobs for me instead. She has the most amazing talents: she cleaned out the fridge getting rid of ancient stuff and did the nasty cupboard behind the kitchen door, and then went through all the old photo albums sending the best ones to the people concerned and chucked away loads of others. What a sense of relief to have got rid of a lot more stuff.
I am trying to like green tea and I am making an effort to put turmeric in things as they are supposed to be good for you.
Vicky

I love the light at this time of year.  I went to a good festival called Shambala last weekend, where there is no meat or fish or cows milk or single-use plastic, but lots of partying and fancy dress and good bands and workshops.  I was moved by a play that told the story of a year in the life of a cuckoo, and some women folk singers doing songs from their ancestors, particularly.  An eccentric singer called Alabaster dePlume kept telling the audience they were doing very well, which I thought was nice, as life is so tricky.  
It was lovely to get home and do the washing and put the camping stuff away then sit outside with Vicky by her whispering green trees in Ditchling and chat as I missed her when she was away.  I am terribly mummyish.