Is this journal becoming increasingly boring? At twenty three I may well have lost my lustre. I only hope that you, dear reader, will bear with me through the morose flow of daily trivia. One must, above all things, take the rough with the smooth.
Anyway, Jacqueline Mary Sate and I did once again meet for light refreshment in the period of our lunchtime. The Ostlers is now a familiar scene on these filthy, soaking afternoons. ________________.
The diaries of Samuel Pepys are keeping me gripped to my chair. King Charles II is now firmly established upon his throne. It's a pleasure to read. Eleven years of Puritanical chaos must have been Hell for all normal, fun-loving souls. I, for one, would have taken a visa and escaped to Majorca until Mr Cromwell snuffed it.
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Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ... -
Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...
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