_. 4th Sunday after Easter.
Sat in a deckchair in the garden reading 'Richard III' swinging my ancient knees. I cut the lawns, which took me just over an hour. Tortuous endurance. It was about six inches long .... the grass that is.
Mum baked herself all day in the sun and by tea time she resembled something of a mix between a lobster and the Rev Ian Paisley.
Sue and Pete were out all day no doubt copulating in some remote Yorkshire dale, or boosting the profits of some local ale-house.
Relieved that I'm not living in England in the 1480s. The horror of Reginald Reginald Bosanquet reading 'News at 10' and Esther Rantzen's ugly mush pale into insignificance when one thinks of the life and times Edward V endured.
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