My father, with indispensable friend and helper Rima (indispensable to him, but also to me) - among the daffodils and crocuses and magnolia blossoms. Spring is here! He is looking remarkably dapper for 98 (although, admittedly, at 10.30 this evening, I heard faint cries of "help ... help ..." from outside, and he'd fallen over into a flower bed whilst feeding the foxes. I guess that may be a common everyday event in south-west London).
It's not going to be easy, leaving to go back to LA in the morning - on the other hand, I may be able to do some work again. It's very tantalising being in London: I should, and I want, to be visiting exhibitions and archives and libraries, but it's both logistically difficult and somehow doesn't feel fair to spend a lot of time away from the house.
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