I've been waiting for 71 days to hear the result of my appeal; I have another 19 to go and then the 90 day waiting period will be over. I cannot believe that the result will be anything but positive. Prince Charles once told his mother - her Maj - that his relationship with Camilla Parker-Bowles (as she then was) 'was non-negotiable'. I feel the same way about my relationship with Africa. I know there is nothing or no-one on God's green earth that can prevent my return to my beloved Africa. Every second of every day, in my imagination I am there; sitting outside my cottage with Candy and Snooze, playing with Aduancy in his enclosure, hanging out with Shadow in sick-bay, laughing as the bandit monkeys swoop through the trees, sharing a glass of wine with friends, feeling the absolute bliss of a cold bush shower at the end a seriously hot day. Glorying in my complete happiness.

When I realized in May that after having already been here for a month - a week more than originally intended, I had another 3 to go, I had no idea how I would deal with it. To be away from the Sanctuary for 4 months was too surreal to absorb. For the first month I would have a few good days, then suddenly find myself grief stricken at unexpected and sometimes inappropriate, moments, so realized that I had to finally get a grip on something approaching detachment. I was able to achieve that; Africa remained a constant presence in my mind, but I no longer identified with it; my desire to be there physically no longer overwhelmed me. Equally, I remained detached from my life here in London.

But as the days draw ever closer to my return to the Sanctuary, I can no longer seduce myself into believing that detachment has won the day. I CANNOT WAIT to see Vic and Indy at the bus stop, I cannot wait to do all the things I said I wanted to do in my last blog, and I apologize for repeating myself so shamelessly, but my sheer, intoxicating, total joy at going HOME refuses to be contained! It's all I want, all I can think about, and I'm so excited!!!

Okay, time to move on.... Do you remember the play I've written about on several occasions? Fushia by Matthew Westwood? Well... it's finally happening! We go into rehearsals in January, open February 3rd and play through to the 22nd. At a fringe theatre in South London, The White Bear, a venue for which I have a particular affection, having played it for one night as a try out several years ago, before going on to the Edinburgh Festival with a show called, A Star Is Torn. It's incorporated at the back of a pub, The White Bear, as several fringe venues are: ones that have a space at the back that is big enough to house a - small - theatre that can incorporate a stage, audience, stage management and dressing room. They usually operate independently of the pub - as in this case - and are frequently where the new, and often exciting work is to found. Unlike other venues of this kind that I've played, The White Bear has proper dressing room facilities - only the one - so everyone piles in together, and with this company, I know we'll have a lot of laughs! I love working in pub theatres; do the show, walk out and straight into the bar, a welcoming glass of dry white and often, several mates. What fun!

I don't think I've quite taken it in; that I'm going to be an actress again I mean. I forget so completely about that side of myself, that to find she's going to make an appearance again in my life has left me quite bewildered. But I'm also feeling aware of the stirrings of excitement that she is surfacing, and for a short time, I shall be an actress again, working with a team of people I adore, on a script written by the director, both of whom - the script and director - stimulate and fascinate me, so all in all, the future's looking good kids, and I for one, am one very happy bunny!

Love and hugs x