Yesterday I met a professional storyteller for breakfast. At the Serpentine Lido. Which, funnily enough, forms the backdrop for my own story. As a child, Hyde Park was my garden. With my best friend, Marieca, I picnicked in the sand on Rotten Row while ponies cantered past. At the police stables, Riecy made a career decision. "When I grow up, I'm going to be a mounted policewoman." We'd gossip for hours on the steps of the Albert Memorial. And chase around the museum. Which is now the gallery. Speakers Corner, the Italian gardens, Peter Pan... Happy days. One winter morning, I tested the ice on the Serpentine. And lost my welly as it gave way. Looking out across that same water yesterday, I felt great sadness. My girls have visited the Himalayas, Sri Lanka, and every part of Europe. But all they know of London's parks are the playgrounds. When they want to disappear, they enter My Space. Where is the constancy?:-o Last night I was back at the Lower Ground Bar. For Comedy Night. After Googling the painter whose Norfolk scene I've bought. And discovering her namesake was topping the bill there. After his passably amusing set, I excitedly inquired if they were related. He shrugged, "Maybe she's married to a cousin?" No happy ending there then! But Marieca had one. She really did join the Met. Though she gave up on horses. When a car ran us over on a zebra crossing. But that's another story;-)