My voice has gone deeper than Mariella Frostrup's, and I've developed an annoying cough. It's definitely not tickly, despite what the girl in Boots says:
'Is anything green coming up?' she asked.
'Then it's a tickly cough, take this. Three or four times a day.'
My drawing / painting of Caragiale has gone missing in the Romanian post (Royal Mail assure me it left them safely last week), so I might have to send them a print to replace the original. Which would be a shame.
I hope it shows up soon.
I've just got back from the local Chinese takeaway (stocking up on some Jewish Penicillin) where I met two students from Beijing. I also learned two things.
Books are much cheaper in China. My seventeen dollar story book would have been about thirty pence one of them reckoned, the other looked less sure.
The second thing was that Chinese food is the prime reason why Chinese ladies age so well. The lad with the skinny on the cheap books isn't going to marry an English girl unless she eats Chinese food all the time.
Fair enough I say.
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