Not a soccer mom

The brief blogging interlude was due to a whirlwind trip to London.

Developments in the city: topping the bill, my gorgeous new nephew Louis with his delightful shock of blond hair.

And fuel-cell buses: steam pours out the top and they make quite a sight.

Otherwise we saw little more than the inside of people’s houses — where we sat at kitchen tables drinking coffee and tea and catching up with friends and family — and Dulwich Park in the icy wind. Wonderful — if rushed and exhausting.

The immigration man at SFO said “welcome home” as I flashed my shiny new green card at him a couple of hours ago on our return.

It felt a little strange.