25th Sunday after Trinity
7th Sunday before Christmas
At 12 Jacq, Pete S and I wandered down to the real Northwood hostelry where we had a few before the 2pm curfew. Pete is 21 and recounting his adventures he makes my life sound positively 'monk~like'.
Sunday lunch was heavily punctuated with political argument. At one point Derek put it to me that I might be a socialist. I told him I am more Tory than the most far~right Tory which puzzled him. He couldn't grasp my argument. He is a stubborn man and in discussion he won't be moved by anything anybody else has to say. He and Pete squabbled about work too. _______.
Pete drove us to Victoria at 5 and we only just made it for six o'clock. The bus carrying Christine and Mrs B was pulling out of the station. I did my spectacular 'dead man lying on the floor' routine in front of the offending and already departing vehicle, to halt it's progress. But all was in vain. A bus carrying only 15 or 20 people eventually left and Jacq and I grabbed the whole of the back seat for ourselves. Uncomfortable and cold journey. Saw the hideous and ridiculous 'green beam' lighting up Oxford Street as part of the Christmas lights.
Home to a cold, wintry Leeds at just before 11. Jim and Margaret Nason are at home. Bed at 1:30.