I came back from the Julia Darling fest up north with a nasty virus which has made feel feel very poorly ever since, though with B. Wiggins` reproachful looks there is little chance of having a proper illness and being able to lie on the sofa all day as we have to go for walks at regular intervals. Daughter J came and made me curative drinks with ginger and Manuka honey, but I have just remembered the Russian granny cures from the Meeting House days which involve garlic on toast, a sock tied round the neck, and hot hard boiled eggs (with shells on) massaged over the face, so I think I will try those.
Julia`s ten year memorial events in Newcastle were quite overwhelming. There was a lovely evening of poetry at the University where she was a fellow, both hers and new ones dedicated to her, and there were workshops, plays and music at Live Theatre on the Quayside where she had been writer in residence. And I was able to see the grand daughters and great grand little boys and great nieces too plus sister J and brother P. and many other family and old friends. It was a good get together and I am so thankful for it.
B. Wiggins had to be left with a friend in Brighton and he did a runner to daughter J`s house, though fortunately not to Ditchling, but he was quickly rescued and he settled down He has just had a complete makeover at Plumpton College Dog Grooming Department and now looks half the size. Sadly his friend Jumble, daughter J`s dog, died on Friday aged twelve. He was a lovely quiet polite dog and his great accomplishment was singing tunefully whenever anyone played the mouth organ. We will all miss him .
I went to a film in the village hall called The Rocket, made in Laos. I spent much of the time with my eyes shut and my fingers in my ears as it involved two sweet children doing very dangerous things, and it was obvious that they have not yet heard of Health and Safety in Laos. It did end happily, but it make me thankful for the comfort of life in Ditchling