Snow again. Boring.

One thing about this snow is that it leaves no choices - you just
have to get on with things, sigh.

Accordingly the gallery has been redecorated to set off the new
work. It should have been gold and beigey pink but I ran out of
gold. So now its gold, beigey pink and that unnatural pink you get
in kids sweets. Looks like a tarts boudoir, or should I say a sex
workers reception area.
Says a little too much about the new work.

And hurrah! I've booked a coach ticket to Florence. Surely it
doesn't snow in Florence... there is a coach from Toulouse,
107 e return, traveling overnight. Wildly excited though I'm
not going till the start of March.

And - more joy - Annie and Pete are back. Gods in his heaven.
Such a delight to split hardly any bottles last night.

Tonight I will remember to photograph them though they
look the same as every despite Annies protestations; she
figured that some of her activites have aged her a decade
but they haven't.

I am sworn to secrecy.