3rd September 1942

Felt terribly ill today.  No sleep last night, stomach pains bad.  Several planes about, and some firing in the distance.  Weird crescent moon at half past one in the morning.

Day overcast, with strong westerly wind.  Felt much better by tea time, and cycled out.  

Poulter told me a rather amusing thing today.  His friend Weekes, the dentist, has bought a place of about 30 acres at Capel St. Mary, and has sold the holding on the London Road, about 9 acres of good pasture and a little house, for £450.  It has been bought by a tribe of gypsies.  They paid cash in notes.  Needless to say, Mr. Weekes is very unpopular with his former neighbours, who now regard him as a complete blackguard.  The place is now swarming with horses, caravans, rubbish of all sorts.

No comments: