So strange, looking at the things which only a few hours ago I obviously thought I could not, above all other things, live without.

For example, this woollen blanket that went on first one lad’s cot and then the other. Beautiful as it is – soft in texture and coloured in just the right amount of bright mixed with just the right amount of mute – but what is the job of a blanket here in the desert where I’m already back to unsocked feet and loose-fitting, short-sleeved dress.

Have I brought it all this way simply to hold it one moment more and think, This is how things used to be.