3rd after Trinity. Awoke at 11.30 and feel quite refreshed and cheery for the first time in two days. On the coach last night I calculated that in the space of 24 hours I'd only had two hours sleep. However, I could never miss the Trooping of the Colour, and any loss of sleep is well worth it.
Oh, by the way. In Carnaby Street yesterday it cost me £1 for John and I to have our photograph taken by a shady little character. We left him with our names and adress, handed over the money, and watched him disappear into the crowd laughing his head off. Whether we'll ever see our photos is a debatable point, but one thing's for sure, these Londoners can spot tourists and smell the money at a distance of 600 yards. You should have seen the bee-line he made for us through the crowd!
Heard from poor Mum this morning that she bumped the Toyota yesterday afternoon. Evidently, she had a collision with the Vicar of Burley's car, and the paint's been scratched down one side. She was terribly upset yesterday, and to bring her round they, that is Dad, Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter, took her out to Burley House for a meal. She says Dad took it beautifully.
To reflect back to yesterday again, I think I'd better say something about why I felt so rotten. Admittedly I'd had a boozy do at Wikis, and only two hours sleep, but when I awoke at 5am the pillow case was covered in blood from my nose, and since then I've had 'pins and needles' down one side of my face. The sort of feeling you get after an injection at the dentist. I'm going to see a doctor tomorrow evening. It's quite worrying really.
Christine rang at 2pm and we're going out tonight. She went to the Cow and Calf last night with Christine D and Carol S - I can imagine the time they must have had! What a combination.
Go to the Hare with John at 8.30. No ale or lager at all due to the dispute, so I start on tomato juices. Christine is in a foul mood and I get depressed when she mopes uselessly over Gary. We move on to the Yorkshire Rose, that is Christine, Carol, 'George', John and I. Outnumbered by women! A remarkable phenomenon indeed. After one drink (half a lager) at the Yorkshire Rose, we move on to the Station on Henshaw Lane. A miserable night really.
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