Waking in an unfamiliar room, brain still virus-addled, eyes still grappling with infection, sleep fitful and broken, the dream-like stills from a stream-of-consciousness film merge with reflections of blinding dawn light, filtered through curtains. The house cat jumped lightly from the windowsill and left the room, deciding that if we are awake we are safe to be left alone. Unrecognised city-noises punctuated the morning calm. Over a period of minutes, we passed from dream-state, with reality encroaching on the fringes, to the converse

The day was about travel: strategies, timing, sleep-times (baby), eat-times (adults), top-up shopping, stress-free routes, contingencies. In the end, the baby opted for the train, where he could charm and flirt his way from station to station, delighting in his power to find the best in people. MrsM and I took the asphalt, bobbing and weaving through the motorway computer-game matrix, then cross-country: we found a junction where all three options had to be tested before we decided on the best one - none of them could have looked less travelled-by

Now we are in "the north" - though those who have travelled several hours south to meet us might demur. Here, enclosure hedges are made of stone and 'the fields grow rocks', as my African colleagues used to say in their own tongue about their rapidly-eroding land almost 50 years ago - I remember 'rocks' was 'amabuye' - I bet there are many (menshi) more rocks now

We friends are assembled again, by chance so soon after the funeral, we are glad to be together. Learning how to live with a reality that we wish was dreams, and the converse

[connectivity to cyberspace intermittent; blips will happen when they happen]