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.
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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
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Saturday September 28, 1985
South Wood Farm, Cotleigh, Devon South Wood Farm. Out of bed bright and early. Another sunny day. What a week we have had. Ally did the pac...

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Quinquagesima. By 4am only Judith, Kathryn and I are conscious. But when we decided to call it a day I realised with horror that my jacket a...
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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...