That’d be a birth cave (it’s nice in there)…and I’m only just starting to get up to speed. Ide is 14 months old now, and I was as sick as a dog for nine months before she was born. And then I had to get my book out. My last connection with the world outside took the form of a nauseous craving for a whippy ice cream, triggered by watching Tony Blair hand one to Gordon Brown as a token of amity during the last election campaign. (Quite a fitting symbol, really…soon goes runny and makes a hell of a mess unless you keep licking…come to think of it, is THAT what the Statue of Liberty is holding?)
So I went from an obsessive current affairs consumer to a person who hasn’t even seen the six o’clock news for more than a year…hang on, perhaps they got rid of it?
I’m writing in full confidence that no one will be reading this, as I don’t think those spiders from Google have been around yet (Ide will spot them when they come – she spends most of her day looking under rugs and stones for bugs…) But if anyone ever does read this, you can watch my comical blunders during the catchup (another memory from before the cave – throwing up during a modern film-version of Robinson Crusoe, (starring Tom Hanks, maybe?) —well, like him after he gets back to civilization).