Oh my goodness! I had a lovely holiday, thanks to all who asked. I have also now recovered from the insane combination of jetlag and European head cold that I came home with, again thanks to all who asked!
Here’s a quick poem by Nan Witcomb that a dear friend sent me, hope you like it.
What becomes of vanity
When youth has gone away
Are photographs, the last remains
Of the glory of yesterday.
And what becomes of an ego
When self respect is dead
Perhaps it dies, when starved of the lies on which it so hungrily fed.