Friday, 27 November 2009


Is that not a wonderful name . . . dead lake. I only know this bit of London because my book agent lives there — recent London memories of catching the train to Mortlake and staggering over to see her with various chunks of book and illustrations.
On my way to visit her this time I saw this excellent house with it black windows and sign.
I might go back and ask what sort of rubber they deal in . . . and what sort of work might be done with horse and van.

No comments:

Post a Comment