I've been to Sheringham

For a week. Sheringham is a cute North Norfolk Seaside town (village?) and its quiet and twee and friendly. We had no internet and no telly and no radio. (Well, we had the man downstairs' telly, let me tell you, Women's tennis heard with no context or cues sounds very disturbing.)

Apart from fearing murder on the ground floor, however, it was a restful week and I have returned slightly more serene than I left.

I am now drowning in cats, who seem to think that the way to prevent me abandoning them to the perils of Ray the Cat Feeder, is to never leave me unaccompanied for more than a second at a time. I escaped this afternoon and when I returned an pulled up outside, Bruce leapt into the car before I could get out and settle on my lap. Do y'think they missed me?