23rd Sunday after Trinity
The Why Not, Hemlington
Up early slightly hungover. I didn't tell Ally of my condition. She thoroughly disapproved of my drinking last night, and so I went about my business with 'Roy wouldn't get pissed' ringing in my ears. We had a joint of beef but little else and so I walked to Stainton and bought potatoes and tinned carrots. A brisk walk. I do miss the open air and really appreciated the walk with a rolled copy of the Sunday Telegraph under my arm. Ally was making porridge in an old yellow dressing gown like an obese canary. Her demeanor improved at the sight of food. We ate pink roast beef and Yorkshire puddings at 3. Bliss. Watched TV and read the paper. I'm always intrigued by President Kennedy and read of his private life. JFK was a sex maniac, evidently. Watched Jane Eyre. Bad. Work tonight. Tubby was kicking ferociously and got to the top and bottom of the bump at the same time. It's very low down too.
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