I'm afraid I've had swine flu. Or at least flu of some variety, but since it's passing more quickly than normal flu, the consensus is that it's of the swine persuasion. So posts might not be forthcoming for a bit - I feel a lot better than I did yesterday (I was only awake for a few scattered hours throughout the day) but my brain resists doing much thinking. And, annoyingly, I don't seem able to read books... always the way when I get ill: hours in bed, and not able to use the time to lessen the tbr pile. Doh.
But this post is more to explain my absence (or at least the absence of any particularly well-thought-out posts for a bit) than for sympathy, so I shall leave you with a picture from my trip to the Lake District and Edinburgh... more of these soon, I think my brain's up to that. This is from Grasmere, home of Wordsworth and my friend Phoebe.