Harbour Town vibrating under the pounding of running shoes. Marathon day, calm and sunny. My legs happy to be out walking after a gentle run out to Leisure with Craig and Daz, finishing with a swim and breakfast at East Head.

I’m fighting with my painting of the Dry Mill, with pincushion protea, based on the painting of Argenteuil by Monet.

Polly not well, giving us more than a moment of concern. Her age deeply etched into the furrows between her big eyes. Diet change to reduce the demand on her liver, with a bunch of treatment for intestine problems. For now, her eyes are brighter and she is looking for mischief. As long as they don’t involve too much exercise!

Emily Moon, everything that Zanzibar is supposed to be and isn’t. That the legend of Emily Moon has it origins at Emerson’s in Stone Town, is probably why we felt as though we were greeting an old friend (my painting ‘Zanzibar Maple’, is outside Emerson’s). While the Bitou River coils its way through the valley and fish eagles are etched against the sky, menu decisions, required with desert, unknown, a consideration.

As befitting the celebrations for Coreta’s birthday, there were surprises and abundant quantities of wine that I’m still feeling in my legs as I pound my way around my jogging route.