This happy little amphibious critter is swimming in air above the Pettitt-Ristuccia kitchen (and I've been given a cat balloon as a present, which I'll hang in the Chair's office, to cheer my surroundings on my return). It's good recording other people's domestic details - and one's own, too - a kind of journal of one's surroundings, yes, but one that makes one look at them very closely indeed when choosing what to take (and this won out over the key chain ornament reflected in the shiny piano side, the washing hanging on a rack at the top of the stairs, various Italian food tins, and a strange kind of head - I think papier mache - that's a cross between a phrenologist's model and Garibaldi and that's on top of the piano, next to the metronome.
Very curiously (though with some logic), the first evening that I was staying, I kept trying to get on line using the "fishballoon" network that came up - guessing a combination of likely passwords. No luck. This was, it turned out, because the household doesn't have wi fi. So does that mean that there's a whole shoal of these fish, swimming their way right down the street?