Brilliance. Cause for wordlessness. Glen Clova's smirking peace, Ben Tirran's sister's weather's perfect expected surprises. Mud-soaked walking shoes, drenched cotton jacket but no goose bumps or chills. Runny nose but solely due to exertion.

Bob, and Karen, thank you. Angels met in the car-park, introduced after a simple "'Scuse me, the six mile hike, is it this way?", "Yes, like to join us? It's uphill." Lovely people. So generous. Thrice our age yet fit, healthy, witty, polite and correct but loose, friendly and unrestrained.

Well earned hot chocolate in the walker's bar in the recently refurbished posh hotel. Fishing permits available for the purposely manmade fishing pond inhabited by home-bred fish. Ridicule.

I feel balanced and refreshed, relaxed and satisfied but am not fretless. Today has been exactly what I've needed after days of lazy cartrips and delicate castle-, palace- or ruin strolls accompanied by too many snacks and munchies. Defecation has been painful yet finally just once a day. Colitis has settled down but gas formation caused by steroids still persists somewhat. Constipating iron tablets combined with diarrhoea resulting from mesalazine does not promote comfort either, but today was better.

I need a laptop. Writing is much more hassle by hand; it puts me off, takes too long, makes me forget my memorised sketch and leave important thoughts and feelings out because descriptions worth reading take too long to put onto paper. Frustration.

Related, somewhat: some time in the future has been reserved for composing my book. Don't ask me when. I have a lot to tell. Sexual attraction, starting age 5. So many scattered memories, thoughts, theories, essays. Love and dissociation, too.

Allerzielen (All Souls Day), Cees Nooteboom. I'm enjoying it greatly. Worthy structure, similar to what I've had in mind for my own creation.

Time for our High Tea. But first B. has earned himself a cuddle and yet another slimy kiss, just because, because he's him, because I know where he left his right shoe and he doesn't and because he stays quiet and lets me write and because he's got hairs under his arms. Yep. I love him too much. I must go.

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I feel so