_. Rain again. Fog is expected. I spoke to Ally on the blower at 7:30am. She thinks she may be catching a cold and feels groggy. The poor thing cannot open her hot water bottle. I must have screwed the lid on too tightly. I felt very bad about this. She told me of the pathetic meatless stew she'd cooked for herself last night. Poverty lives, even in these times, I'm sorry to say. We keep talking as though we'll be better off financially after June, but I am unconvinced. I will always be a pauper. The word 'pauper' is stamped in indelible ink across my chart, or whatever it is that St Peter uses to keep our records on file. Perhaps they've now got a celestial micro-chip and a heavenly computer.
Ronald Reagan is still sitting and cracking jokes, and I remain sceptical. We could have a President Bush by August. However, the Press says he's on his way to a full recovery.
The Prince of Wales's security has been increased at the start of his tour of New Zealand. He looks a little lost without Lady Diana. It seems cruel that they should be parted at this special times of their lives.
I went swimming with Sarah at 12. Did fourteen lengths. Nearly twice as many as last week.
Home at 6. Papa was splashing cement on the back wall of the garage. Mum says she wants him to see a doctor about his blue leg, get a medical pension, and quit the police force!
Had a queer fish dinner, and took to water afterwards, my bath. Football on the TV. League Cup final.
Mum and Dad were very cheerful tonight. It's the police that spoils things.
Bed at 12 to escape the Academy Awards from Hollywood.
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