Isn't it queer how we have strange dreams while sleeping in the heat of the sun?
Sent a few postcards home but can't imagine them arriving there before I do.
-=-
20120807
Sunday July 17, 1977
6th after Trinity. To Port d'Es Torrent, if that's how you spell it. Topless bathers on the rocks. The lovely smell of pine needles. I slept for most of the time.
Isn't it queer how we have strange dreams while sleeping in the heat of the sun?
Sent a few postcards home but can't imagine them arriving there before I do.
-=-
Isn't it queer how we have strange dreams while sleeping in the heat of the sun?
Sent a few postcards home but can't imagine them arriving there before I do.
-=-
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Wednesday October 9, 1985
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds Slept until 8:30 when the Schweppes delivery man woke us. Much chaos. To market after a frugal breakfast. Ally explain...
-
Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...
-
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...
No comments:
Post a Comment