Nothing to report today. Saw TV all night, and I was joined in this enthralling entertainment by John and Carol. Poor Miss Smith _______________.I can really hear the gentle clatter of wedding bells this time. Admittedly, I also heard the jingle when Miss Phyllis Whitethighs was in the running, but they (the bells) were not half as loud as the ones which ring in my ears at this moment in times. Poor old girl. She is obviously unaware of the real character of my dear brother, otherwise she'd have emigrated to the Belgian Congo many weeks ago.
-=-
The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Showing posts with label belgian congo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label belgian congo. Show all posts
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Monday August 26, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Bank Holiday in UK (except Scotland) The usual Bank Holiday blues. A complete flop. Ally went over to Lynn's to Thomas...
-
Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
-
Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...