My birthday. We sat in bed at 6:30 with presents and cards. Ally gave me the Jam's new LP 'The Gift', socks, a stout pack, and ink. We had poached eggs on toast listening to the Jam. YP. Ugh. I will have to make sure I have my birthday off next year. Utterly depressing. I have had a card from Delia but, strangely, nothing from my in-laws in Winchester. [We had an Easter card on Saturday with a fiver tucked inside].
I'm twenty seven now, but content. At twenty four and twenty five I was more disgruntled.
Got wet tonight coming home. Lashing rain. [Auntie] Mabel phoned to say she saw me at the bus stop in Leeds, waiting like a drowned rat. She had been visiting her ailing friend, Evelyn, at the LGI.
Candlelit food again. Mackerel and cheese. Out at 8 in my new togs to the Bod where we were joined by Karen and Steve, Tim and Jill. The music was too loud and nobody could hear any conversation, or in fact say anything. On to the Fire Brigade pub at Great Horton. Poor Steve wasn't feeling well [his tummy] and they left at 10. With Jill and Tim we had 'just a couple more' at Mucky Willie's. They came back for coffee. Went to bed counting SDP MPs in the Commons ... not thinking of babies.
-=-
No comments:
Post a Comment