This is the pond where I used to throw bread for the ducks when a little girl, with Cannizaro House in the background (then a hospital for the long term war-wounded, now the hotel in which we're staying and in which Alice is starting to recuperate from a vile and most unChristmassy lurgy); here is the view from the bottom of the gardens. Somewhere between the two, I heard a mother telling her daughter - "when mummy was a little girl, she used to ...". The mother was much much younger than I, and although I'm sure I should be pleased to think of generational continuity, I just felt old, old, old.
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