Tuesday
‘Planes were going out after half past 11 last night, and
about 2 a.m. this morning I heard an “all-clear”, and the voices of the men on
the searchlight.
More ‘planes began warming up at Langham soon after 5 – a
dull, horrid roar. Got in early, lot of
American traffic on the road, going both ways. Saw one of Blythe’s pair horse wagons
on the road, with nice Suffolks.
Busy all morning with minutes, had to ring the Executive
Officer about the meeting. He is always
most charming on the ‘phone.
Left early this afternoon, and went with Molly Blomfield in her
car to see Frank Girling about photos [for the National Buildings Record]. I
was particularly anxious that she should get his cooperation as he is such a
fine photographer and has such a knowledge of buildings in the district, but
she was most reluctant to go.
On the way saw Wyncoll at Ardleigh (Fox St) was cutting
oats, and the wheat is yellowing fast.
But the wind was rising, with racing clouds, and the corn moved back and
forth in tempestuous waves. Who would be
a farmer?
Girling showed us a fine lot of his photos, but Molly paid
little attention, and was all in a state to get away home.
She left me at Lawford, on the top road, and I walked down
over the fields, feeling very tired and miserable. Lay on the bed for an hour so, and on waking
had a most unpleasant sensation of loss of memory – I had not the slightest
idea where I was. Looked out of the
window, saw the steep hill-side, the cows chewing peacefully in the cool of the
evening below me, and the moon rising.
Came to the conclusion that I must be in Wales
Wind has now dropped, and it looks like fine weather.
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