My flight to London was diverted. A journey that should have taken four hours ended up taking nine. When I finally arrived, I felt dizzy with hunger and relief. We bought a M&S pasta salad and I felt better immediately. It was New Year's Eve.
Over the next few days, we took it easy. I read: The Times Literary Review, The London Review of Books, Framley Parsonage by Anthony Trollope, the Everyman collection of Cat Stories (of which I liked Alice Adams' The Islands especially), and Atlas of Remote Islands by Judith Schalansky. We went to the theatre (Uncle Vanya) and I finally made it to Violet's in Dalston. Simple pleasures, all the time.