We have several hundreds of photos which we could put on our blog, but I have decided to recount our trip one day at a time. There'll be gaps between the blogs but they'll all be there eventually, and in the right order. So here goes....
BRRRRR!!!
It’s
one of those later Winter days – cold, miserable, grey – when there’s nothing
much to do and nowhere to go and the enthusiasm drains out of you like last
night’s congealed soup which you pour down the drain when nobody’s looking
because you can’t be bothered to do anything productive with it.
All
of which is a lie. Looking at the thermometer I see that it’s not actually very
cold: true there was a slight frost this morning, but it didn’t last. It’s not
really miserable and grey either. In fact it’s quite bright despite the clouds
overhead. But we have had quite a lot of rain recently and today seems rather
an anticlimax to that. Not really winter and not really spring. I ought to be
doing something more active but I had an operation on one of my fingers two
weeks ago and the bandage was taken off it this morning and the stitches
removed. But I’ve been told to take it easy for a few days so all the heavy
lifting I have been precluded from doing for the past two weeks will have to
wait a little while longer. Ho! Hum!
What
this has got to do with India, you ask. Well, not a lot except that writing up
our India trip of last year has been playing on my mind. But at last I’ve
decided how to write it which will be One-Day-at-a-Time. You’ll see what I mean
over the next few weeks.
When
we came back from India we were very busy. We had a backlog of work to catch up
with and most importantly, Ruth’s book, The Shaping of Water, was approaching
its publication date and we had a lot of matters to attend to. The bird shit we
found around inside the house, left by a bird that had got or been brought into
the house by the cats, remained reproachfully for several weeks while we
attended to these matters. It is now three months since our return, and I am
only now recording our trip. Something which makes me apprehensive is the
thought that, as time passes, only what I shall have written will remain in the
memory.” Quod non est in actis, non est in mundo” (variously described as an
ancient Latin saying, to Roman Law or to a number of Popes) roughly transcribes
as “If it ain’t written down, it didn’t happen” and is, I’m afraid, true.
Anyway,
to get you started, here is a picture:-
