I seem to have lost the knack of sleep at the moment. Is this another manifestation of old age? Or something else? Of course it doesn't help that my hospital experience keeps coming back to me in haunting detail in the early hours - and the temptation is to give up on the operations and settle for a housebound life.
We went to Jackie's for supper on Saturday - roast lamb - cheese and biscuits, and cheesecake. Tom was there and we had a good evening, and we talked a little about Jill. I had 3 glasses of excellent white wine and thought it might help me sleep. But it didn't. The Captain couldn't sleep either and we were making each other cups of tea in the early hours.
A lovely sunny day yesterday - clear blue sky - a chance for some of the floodwater to drain before the next lot arrives.
I was just reading that the new Sherlock is a big hit in China. I hope they don't keep us waiting too long for the next one. And could they possibly be bringing Andrew Scott's marvelously mad and scary Moriarty back? I don't see how - but, hey, this is fiction after all. My Own Theory - and you read it here first - is that - no - I don't think I really have one that could actually involve him coming back.
Its a good thing its not me who's writing it.