Here is a ceramic bowl filled with fruit salad. We had it yesterday as part of a meal with my daughter, stepson and a couple of friends from London. It speaks for itself really, but for the record: mango, pineapple, nectarine, banana, blueberries, grapes; meringues and cream on the side. At the moment I feel as though I could live on this – the signs are therefore auspicious. For the last few weeks I haven’t really fancied the idea of anything other than toast and marmite.
At this point I’m not sure there is anything else that needs to be said – nothing, at any rate, that I would care to identify. It's on the tip of my fingers to say that I may be gone some time but that sounds a bit arctic and final. I quite like the image of Patrick McGoohan in The Prisoner, closing thumb and forefinger before pushing them out into a salute: Be seeing you!