Getting back to normal

Do you realise the problems that we authors have to contend with? It has taken, dear reader, several days to disentangle the notes that we have put together about our recent trip, not to mention the hours of one finger typing to post it - and do you ever write or phone? - I feel quite alone and very vulnerable - I'm not sure I like being an author.

Editors note: American readers should look for the irony in the previous paragraph, whilst English readers should stop moaning about the rain (it's England, what do you expect), and all I can say to Italian readers is, - NO, I DON'T WANT ANOTHER HELPING.

Ok, so what's normal? Normal is dealing with Max, with horrible stuff coming out of both ends, attending to mum who breaks her thumb whilst messing about with Max and finally getting off my backside to make contact with a new plumber (for those of you with long memories, no - the other one has still not shown up ).

After much sucking of air through his teeth (do all artisans go to school to learn this?) and many admonishments, as if I'd built the bloody house, we get the gory details about our drainage. Nice.

We're back to normal!