Hello Georgie

The reason I have not written is something you would not be believing except you will when I am telling you. But first let me say this is nice thing Amy is writing for her auntie Edna. Now you, my Georgie, must be taking it easy because you know how funerals bring on you an attack of the piles. So try to relax and perhaps have whisky or two.
The reason I am not writing before this time is not because I am taking the offence of you altering my post - yes, Anna did make slip with her digit, I do know difference between colonoscopy and colostomy so am not 'Silly Swedish Strumpet' but this I know is just your joking. Actually, I am Swedish and also Strumpet (ha, ha) but am not silly. Well that has cleared up that.

I am staying in London with Brian at The Inn on the Park, which is very up the market hotel. This is little treat what Brian has planned as surprise in return for all the meals I have been cooking for him and cleaning flat and doing other housewifely chores - excepting sex.

In this fine hotel we are sharing double bed and holding hands in nightime but nothing more, alas. Brian is taking me to see all sights of London town. Like the amazing Tower Bridge which lift up in two parts for the boats to pass beneath. And also, of course, your Bloody Tower. What a bloodthirsty lot were you English people, chopping off heads, burning people at a stake and smothering children left right and to the centre. But you also know how to put on good show, like with the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace. Oh, Georgie, what a fine spectacle. The colour and the music with all the bands playing and the erect soldiers in their scarlet tunics, the bearskin hats and polished swords. Such pageantry. And the beautiful horses, noble beasts with brasses gleaming in the morning sun, their coats all brushed and shiny, so magnificent and proud. And I also learn something interesting, because I notice for first time, how horse lift its tail before crapping on road. Such an intelligent animal is the horse.

One other surprise Brian has for me is he buy me laptop computer. This is brilliant - I use it now at this moment by the connection with the Wi Fi in hotel. But also it will save me in the future of having to journey to internet cafe and sit among smelly youths who are on benefits and nothing to do but surf all day the net. But also as they say, for every gain there is a loss and it means that I do not go out and therefore reduce chance of meeting acceptable man for sex (not for love, that is for you only) so anyway I think I may still go down to the cafe except when raining and then I will use laptop.

Oh, and I ask Brian to show me the area SOHO. This is disappointment because in no way does it compare with Amster district in my beloved Stockholm. Still you cannot have everything and I am so enjoying my trip. Also I have ride on big wheel you call 'London Eye'. I am thinking it is called this because you can see all over city from top of wheel. I press close to Brian pretending to be scared, so our thighs are touching. But this is to no affect so I give up.

Brian also take me to museums - Science, and Victoria and Albert, and also British Museum. Here in library I look up poetry of Mr Donne, the metaphysical poet. And especially 'The Flea' because lady Purple Cow talk about this. At first I do not understand a word and am thinking what a load of crap. But then Brian (who has degree in English literature which I did not know)explain that it is about love and seduction and sex which then is right up my street as you English say. Anyway I learn that this man is lying with woman but she will not do it with him no matter how he try to persuade her. Then comes this flea which give her love bite on breast (which he would like to do but hasn't got courage). Well, then this flea goes and bites man - poem does not say where. So this gives man idea, and he says that flea now has blood of both of them in it so this is same as if they had sex so why not do it now? But lady still fannying about (excuse language) so man try to bring religion into it - I don't know how he manages to do this. Is he saying fucking is really a holy activity? (perhaps it is). But then what does this silly cow do? She kills flea! What harm has little creature done her? Except to bite on breast, which I say is her fault for leaving it out where it could be bitten on. Man say this like murder. But seeing this get him nowhere he say it hasn't harmed them so neither will having a quick fuck harm them. Personally I think this tart not worth the effort. But poem changes my opinion about metaphysical poets. I am asking Brian to find for me more poems like this one.

We go back to Purley tomorrow.

Write quickly to me.

Your lover in absence.

Anna