Back in Highgate. Utterly tired and shattered and jet-lagged and aching.
I have tales to tell, Shane-shaped and Dickon-shaped. Will write more as soon as my brain starts working again. And when my eyelids stop drooping.
It’s Mum’s MBE ceremony tomorrow, at Buckingham Palace. Not a bad excuse to give when telling people in NYC why I can’t stick around too long. ‘Oh you know how it is…’
