I am officially gardened-, stately-mansioned- and leafy-greened-out. Yes, the Whites have returned from their Garden Tour of England. We managed not to kill one another, though things at times were somewhat fraught. An account of our rambles and attendant absurdities will follow, as soon as I see the parental unit off on the plane, catch up on my sleep and batter myself into a sturdier frame of mind, for coming back to London has seemed like returning to prison.
In the interim, those of you in the dark nebulae of cyberspace who are musically inclined might like to listen to my poem, I Remain, which was turned into a song by Sarah Chamberlain of the Guildhall School of Music, and performed at Wigmore Hall by Carleen Ebbs.
Since it's impossible for an author to be objective about their work, I don't know if it's any good, but I like it, so I'm not too fussed about its quality.