Cloudy in the morning, but warm. I lay in bed much too long. Intended to do so much today, but really did so little. All the morning firing heavy guns in the distance – Home Guards at Harwich, I believe. Felt very tired, and hated the idea of going in tonight [for duty].
Writing, and mounting photos all morning. A peacock butterfly flew in at the open window, and there were sheep on the meadow just behind the house. The sun came out.
This afternoon more writing, and then in to
Colchester. Took eggs and butter to Mrs. Green. Had tea at home. Mother seemed rather unwell.
Long talks with Poulter tonight. We talked over museum affairs. I said that in my opinion, the Committee would try to get rid of
on health grounds, as this was their only chance. I believe he will fight hard. Poulter wanted to know what I really intended to do? Did I want the Museum for myself? I said, yes, I very definitely did, and nothing would please me more. He said he would do his best to hang on until such a time as I could take over. Hull
Saw the “Museums Journal” in the office. My cousin Underhill is recorded under “War Service” as being in the RAF Intelligence. My own work was recorded under the same heading two years ago, which made me feel rather annoyed.