Yesterday, in amongst the edamame pods and the cruelty-free soy toothpaste and the eggs that had been gently coaxed, with chants of gratitude, from the cloacas of emotionally centred chickens, Ivy made this announcement:
"WhenI turn four I am going to have a television party and the cake will be a television and everybody can dress like a television and at my party we will just watch television. So much television.'
But where are they? Are they warm?
I can't stop cleaning out drawers and pacing. I'm going to have a bath now and read about life on an olive farm in Provence, and try not to think about lions, and tigers, and bears.