Ratty has ascended New Zealand, distorting it a little under the weight of summer raspberrries with cream and the quiches served at the top of every pitch.
He finds himself in a cosy nest near Whangarei, but is alarmed to be sharing digs with a Tonkinese, as sinuous, sensuous and gregarious a cat as a rat could hope to avoid, one who remembers in every fibre the former goddess status of her species.
While he's hiding from the cat, I'm happily revising and receiving and sending out contracts. The next to be acted upon will be an aching, frank and tender memoir, The Linen Way, by US poet Melissa Green.
Meanwhile, warm comment is being made by readers about The Happiest Music on Earth. It's only 3 USD, a good start for readers trying out their new reading devices.
The year looks exciting, but that's all I have time to say just now. The rat has bundled up his swimming togs (remember the mankini?) and is hopping about impatiently in the doorway. Have to go.