Half term excitements included meeting my new niece (a voyage of discovery into one-handed baby holding methods) and visiting the Russian Constructivists at the Tate Modern.
All the books had been bolted to the beds in the Turbine Hall, which timscience felt changed the nature of the piece, tainting it with appropriation. I found a copy of The Drowned World, struggled into a reading position, and turned to the party in the flooded hotel, the bit with the crocodiles. When I looked up, there were children watching me -- my cast was propped at an odd angle, probably looked strange. It comes off tomorrow, I can't wait.