Waltergarth, Station Rd, Horton-in-Ribblesdale
Mum stayed in the precincts of Waltergarth leaving Papa to take us to Settle on a shopping expedition. It was of course Settle market day. Mum is very self-conscious about her colour and thinks that Settle is not yet ready for her yellow skin. She is far too soft about illness and doctors. She phoned her quack today for results of a blood test and he told her bugger all, and she has fretted about what he might say for days. It's cruel of them. I have the blackest fears. I am illogical and pessimistic. I blame the twentieth century and the pressures that modern times have imposed on us simpletons. Two hundred years ago I would have been toddling around in a ploughed field without a care in the world and not fretting about gall bladders. Collapsed by the fire tonight. Rest, perfect rest.
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