_. Slept until lunchtime which is annoying. The day has passed me by. Out in the garden with Papa. He wants to move a large conifer tree from the front to the back. The offending tree is about 8ft tall and I fear for its future. My researches show that coniferous bushes are hardy, with close-knit roots. So, roll on transplant time.
To the YP at 4:30 and hear from Kathleen about of Chilean work-mate. He goes by the name of Alfredo [sic] Hernandez. ___________.
Home at 12 in a taxi driven by a poor misguided soul who tomorrow is packing everything in, quitting our shores, and removing himself to a far flung and obscure corner of the Empire called New Zealand. Blimey, I thought we had stopped doing such hideous exoduses back in the 1960s. I'd sooner emigrate to Saturn or Washington New Town. He [the taxi driver] no doubt thinks that the streets of Wellington are paved with gold. Ate, and then bed at 1am.
-=-
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 emigration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emigration. Show all posts
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
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...

-
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...
-
Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...