This evening, we went to a Lebanese restaurant in London, and I ate so much that I don’t think I will be able to move for days. My mother came down to the Capitol, and first detoured to our house for a quick visit. Then Mark and I drove into London in the late afternoon for a dinner and some mummy-time.
Of course, Mum had to survey the continual damage caused by the raining and the flooding. Unfortunately we had a fatality in the county. A seven-year-old boy died yesterday. At first they thought that he had died from a disease spread by filthy water that’s everywhere, but it now seems likely that he died from much more mundane reasons.
His parents have used a pump to move water out of their house, and that pump apparently emitted carbon monoxide, which killed the boy and put the parents in the hospital. They’ve pumped out the house since January, and that shows how bad the flooding has been here. For a little bit there, the authorities tested to neighbours to see if diseases had started to spread – a likely occurrence if this continues.
Once in London we could forget about the water and the rains and the damage, and we could pretend that things were normal. We could walk along the streets; well, more like running from cover to cover to avoid the rain. Thankfully most of the evening took place inside the Lebanese restaurant I mentioned.
I have a thing for Mediterranean food. Greek, Lebanese, Italian… I just want more and more, and if Mark would allow me, I’d bloom up into a balloon-shaped husband. This from just eating the stuff. And this restaurant was so good it even shut Mum up for long passages while she enjoyed the tastes.
Now I’m back at home, and I don’t want to sleep, and so I’m writing this. Mark is off to sleep, and is snoring a little in the other room. It’s just me and Watson here now, and I think I’m going to play a computer game for a bit. But which one?