London Dairy Air

Maybe it's derriere?  We're staying in the Blades, in a fourth floor walk-up with a shower you can't turn around in.  It does have hot water, putting it a step or two above the flat in Paris, but K is unhappy.  So I'm unhappy.  Betty & Chuck went off to do the Stonehenge tour this morning, and we all met back at the top of the stairs and then took off for a Big Red Bus tour of central London.  Much nicer than a BRBT of L in January.  Also much more sociableizing for me, since the combination of antibiotics for my abcessed tooth, the pheasant pie, and nine different brand new takes on the idea of lager, and a glass of wine or two, have combined to make me noisy, noxious and occasionally downright spectacular.  Had the upper level of the bus pretty much to myself.  Pigeon started to land then took off in as much a hurry as a pigeon can muster.  Not as quick as K however.  "Look! You can pick out our flat!  The one with the window propped open with a magazine!!"