i am visiting bath, seeing old friends, family. these past few months have been a mezcla of travelling round seeing my own family - france, uk, - and experiencing the development of a new feline one. The kittens are 8 weeks old now, and it is coming to that time when homes are to be found. One is off today, to live with my best friend, a gift for her son's fifth birthday on monday. I am sitting in her flat now, billie lying in the corridor, two kittens languidly suckling from her breast on a spiral carpet, and the other two black twins, identical slumbering patterns curled up in a path from my feet. I will miss them. Billie will miss them... I am so pleased with my decision to let her have kittens, I only wish I could let her have more but it isn't sensible i guess. but she has genuinely loved motherhood, and adores her offspring, a more attentive and considerate mother i couldn't have wished for and the results speak for themselves in my eyes, in four confident, loving, well-adjusted and strong little cats! so the little black and white one leaves the gang today. my mother wants one of them, and i am so tempted to keep another to live with billie and myself. i think i want to grow into one of these crazy old ladies who lives in a ramshackled eccentric house filled with cats and flowers and chickens, knick knacks and candlewax, and a dog. or two... the walls will be papered with my grandchildrens drawings, frescoes in the bathroom telling tales of mis-adventures and lagoons and every two years or so i will gather my walking sticks and set off for six months into the heart of peru, or morocco, tibet, or the pyrenees mountains, from where no doubt i will send my cats (and dogs, and flowers) postcards regaling all the sights and sounds and smells and colours that pass through me . . .

I am looking for work. I've applied for a job that a friend suggested to me, as a children's party entertainer in some exclusive london health club. it would be great, not only would i get to have fun and work with kids, but also use of all the facilities . . . hmm, here's hoping . . .

i saw waiting for godot, directed by peter hall, at the theatre royal last night. it was beautiful, with some magical physical theatre from lucky. we had great seats, and come the end of the first act were informed we had 20 minute interval so we ran off for a quick drink. when we came back however the second act had already started after only 15 minutes and they wouldn't let us take our seats, instead shunting us to an uncomfortable dark corner . . . well we ended up sneaking into the box instead from where we could almost have reached out and touched the actors' cheeks . . . i was placated :) and after we went to a pub called the raven and got quite drunk. i saw simon there, deeply tanned and weathered from his life on the barge in bath's canals, forever his little canny glint in alert blue eyes . . . he is someone i will talk more on, but not right now, not right now . . .

i am going to visit my father today, four cats in tow - billie and 3 kittens . . . a black quartet . . . already i feel restless . . .

listening to: golden limestone reflecting the sun to the hum of a yamaha and landsdown traffic. there is a jazz pub across the road - perhaps later i'll be listening to that too . . .