I came home from the train station with a secret plan to smoke a gorgeous cuban cigar in the bath while reading the newspaper cover to cover with no disturbance but in the end I already miss little Clemmie:-(
I sat next to her in the train before it took off and nibbled her little feet (she giggles now, which along with smiling is just one of those things you need to have a lot of before you die) and rocked her in her car seat. I sort of felt like I was going to cry but I thought that might upset her. In the end, she looked a little upset anyway, but this could easily have been due to poop in nappy as much as hunger, boredom or tiredness...
But I will get a lot of reading done this week. Bought Simon Singh's Fermat's Last Theorem, plan to finish Daniel Pennac's La Petite Marchande de Prose (not as rewarding as his other books for some reason, but am determined to give it a fair shake) and plan to re-read all my Dawkins, starting out of order with The Blind watchmaker. You've got to love a guy who claims to know what the meaning of life is. Of course, now that Clem is here, I think his theory is pretty bulletproof;-)
