6 November 2015

6 November 2015

My lady has a childhood diary and we opened it up recently and flicked through the few pages with writing on them, dating from summer days so very long ago. The first entry says, "Got up. Went out to play. Had tea and watched telly." The next day's entry says, "Got up. Went out to play. Had tea and watched telly." The third entry says, "Got up. Went out to play. Morag and Sheila came home for tea." The simplicity and lack of excitement continued for a few weeks until the entries ceased. But she has another diary from when she was aged 19, which has much more written in it and there is an entry that says, "Went to the Union dance with Morag. Met a lad called Andrew. He said he will phone me." Ah... Poor girl. She has never escaped.