Freak floods at Heathrow

are actually all my fault.
Found it extraordinarily difficult to despatch DarlingDaughter (sans credit card) through the departure gate yesterday evening...Forget weeping buckets, we're talking swimming pools here. Fortunately, she is a better woman than I am, Gunga Din. When the time came, she simply turned and walked through the gate without any trauma, though I know she too was feeling decidedly wobbly, bless her.
Further blessings should be heaped upon TeenWonder who heroically agreed to come along for the ride and jolly his sobbing mother down the homeward road...and has promised hugs on demand for the next 8 weeks, which is quite a relief really.
Even more of a relief was the email that arrived this afternoon (after I'd had a totally blissful day off, featuring excellent company and great surroundings: the Wednesday walk won't be blogged this week, as I was much too busy talking to stop and take pictures,- but I promise you, it was entirely happy). She has arrived safely, and was about to go out to supper....final, tantalising line "Would really love to show it to you". Which it? The island where she is learning to teach English? The place where she was heading for supper? The all too English common cold she took with her???
I'll probably forget to ask her when I can...but right now, just relieved she's safely there, that the awfulness of departure is now behind us,- and that I have so many wonderful friends to keep me going along the way. Thank you all,- so very much!