The house that swallowed a lemon seed

Feeling more or less healthy again after last week's disaster, outside of wanting to sleep all the time. A nasty frost has set in as well, which might have a lot to do with it; in an authentic and untouched Art Nouveau apartment unfortunately bed is the only place that's guaranteed to be warm. I hate being cold. We talk about southern France or Queensland a lot these days.

But who knows, who knows. It's daft to move where the weather is now. I just heard they'd had a snowstorm in Sicily and Calabria - these are provinces far more prone to dust storms than anything else - and I got a chilling sensation the world was going to end, or at last turn inhospitable for everything but dandelions and cockroaches, who'd probably make a better job of it than we have.

Anyways, because of my new found love of sleep I have to hurry off to work now but I thought I'd leave you with instructions to enchant your aesthetic nerves by staring at some Hundertwasser, and tickle your brain by reading about his barmy odd plainspoken - shall we say - wisdom? I think so. He kept coming up in conversation in Düsseldorf as the couple we were staying with actually knew who I was talking about when I went on about 'that Austrian guy - you know, with the colours and the trees growing out of things' and I was so happy to get a name for the images that have been lodged in my head ever since my first trip to Vienna.