Diaries are such silly things really. A diary is the place where a diarist can release all his inhibitions, torrents of criticisms and fears. Strangely enough, my diary is neither interesting or amusing. I don't pull people to pieces or secretly idolise some poor acquaintance...
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Saturday September 28, 1985
South Wood Farm, Cotleigh, Devon South Wood Farm. Out of bed bright and early. Another sunny day. What a week we have had. Ally did the pac...
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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...
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Quinquagesima. By 4am only Judith, Kathryn and I are conscious. But when we decided to call it a day I realised with horror that my jacket a...
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