Moorhouse Inn, &c.
Samuel woke for a feed at 4am. He hasn't done this for a while and we went back to sleep sluggish and heavy. Sunshine. I played in the cellar and continued mucking out the fryer. Ally went off to Morrison's at 10.
I forgot to say that on Friday Frank H brought us their old settee and armchair - brown, 'velvety' -- it will do until some Louis XIV cast offs from Versailles turn up. Anyway, this afternoon I collapsed on our new item of furniture. Ally disapproves of me sleeping anywhere but in bed and grumbled as I lay, open mouthed, dreaming of a land free from industrial turmoil and where the likes of Arthur Scargill are incarcerated in psychiatric hospitals.
LG turned up at 7:30 and Ally was looking especially lovely to brighten his evening. He wasn't violent about the stock horror but was understanding and helpful. He tapped away on his pocket calculator and had us quite baffled. Rob is coming back on Wednesday to give us a quick check stock. Maureen worked. I escaped for ten minutes to see Mrs Thatcher on 'Panorama' - interviewed by Sir Robin Day. What a level headed excellent woman she is. Bed at 12.
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