Diego

Today was so busy - again! - that I barely had time to look around to see what was on my desk top at work.  Here's Diego, a temporary resident until - at least - after the return of the Santa Ana winds next week (please: no.  Please make it rain ...).  He actually belongs to Alice, and looks as though he might bolt and clatter off on his purple hooves at any moment.

Behind him, dimly - and with an discolored sky, for such is the unsustainability of whatever ink I used - is a drawing of Runswick, in West Yorkshire, that I did as a Christmas present for my grandmother in 1975, only she died ten days before Christmas that year, and so I kept it.  I hope that she would have liked it: she used to go on holiday to this seaside fishing (and artists') village as a little girl, and used to tell a memorable story about being in church one sunny summer's Sunday, and - the church door being open - looking back at the doorway of the cottage in which they were staying, and seeing the lobster that was destined for Sunday lunch walking down the path.  I hope it made it back to the sea ...