I'm still in London. I arrived last Sunday, planning to be here for just a few days but the friends I am staying with - in an enormous and very beautiful house in North London - persuaded me to extend my visit.
Such was the rosta of social activities that they had lined up, I didn't take much persuading. And so on Tuesday, I called Frances and asked if she would be able to keep Biff for another four nights.
'That's fine,' she said. 'But you might not get him back.'
She's joking (I think) but even the thought that I might not get my little munchkin back, sends me into a panic.
I've had a lot of fun in London - culminating in a lawyer friend's cocktail party this evening - but I'm so looking forward to seeing Biff's eager little face when I pick him up tomorrow night.
Two years ago I hung up my high heels, put the Prada handbags into storage and left behind my fashionable West London life to renovate an old village house in rural France. Et voila. This blog is about what happened next....
I know exactly what you mean. We're setting off for England on Tuesday for our 2 weeks annual holiday. I look forward to it so much, catching up with family etc., exploring old haunts.
But, when it's time to come back, one of the things I look forward to the most is getting back to my cats and dogs.