Thursday, December 4

My bandage fell off yesterday evening due to the effects of gravity. I therefore improvised a method of holding the compress tightly in place using a leg from a cut-up pair of fisherman’s trousers that went over my head and knotted at the top.

I went to bed looking like Old Mother Riley.

This morning I woke early, having slept surprisingly well. I adjusted my head gear and went to buy eggs. On the way to the mini mart three people asked me the name of my dog (who had, of course, met me on my walk towards the beach).

“Rose”, I said. “Hello Rosie”, they replied. Hari asked exactly the same question when I popped in The Village, and gave exactly the same answer. By the time I bought the eggs I realised that I had a dog named Rosie.

Later, while she slept under a fan, I photographed the reflections on the dining room floor. She stayed for the rest of the day. Rosie seems to have decided that I have a dog.

Hmmm…