Moorhouse Inn
Uncle Tony's birthday. King George VI's birthday. Mikhail Gorbachev is visiting Britain, &c. I cannot write much. Pie and Pea evening. A dead one. Samuel was awake when we wanted to go to bed. Recently we've been too tired to deal with him in the middle of the night and he's been ending up in the middle of the bed with us. We are going to see Mum if not tomorrow then Sunday. She seems exceptionally cheerful and one would think she was speaking from Waltergarth. Sadly, she says she'll be in hospital for Christmas and therefor cannot be festive here. Mr Hall says the gall bladder will have to go next week.
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