But Not in Japan

I cannot resist taking photos of blossom. It's so exquisite.

A beautiful day today. Basil and I were out in the garden first thing which was when I gave into temptation and took myriads of photos of blossom - of which this is one.

Then spent the best part of the next six hours trying to sort out printing on my new printer. Curses! I needed to do another monitor calibration as colours on the screen didn't match colours on the prints. And even that wasn't straightforward.

By half past two, Basil and I were ready to go out. We walked up Trueway Drive to a bus stop and waited. There are bus stops now, and signs telling you clearly at what times there will be a bus. Sadly few and far between since timetable changes last week.

We went to the Berber Shop in Loughborough where I persuaded Mr Aziz to recount stories of his boyhood in Tangiers which I can embellish for my OU course in Creative Writing. Scribbled it all down in my notebook. He spoke in Moroccan Arabic to his friend most of the time, but I did manage to note the basics.

Then a quick decamping to the bus stop to catch the last number 4 home. Garlic prawns for supper, and wallowing in the luscious Italianness of Inspector Montalbano on BBC 4. He always gets his woman, and then loses her again.