Sunday
Woke at 9, and lay luxurious in bed. Heavy clouds, high wind. Had a boiling hot bath. Then writing, etc. Went over to Sherebourne Mill and got some papers. Big crowd there for the harvest.
Had tea at the Dedham café. Mrs. Sisson now has no help in the house at all, so Sisson and I have to do as much as we can with washing up, making beds etc.
Wild night, with a howling SW wind, thick clouds. No ‘planes about at all. Spent most of the evening going through early journals. Cannot make up my mind whether anything can be made of this stuff or not. At the most can only think that some sort of “private” publication could be achieved, say three type-script copies to circulate among friends. Query – what friends would want to read it anyway? Mrs. Sisson quite encouraging about extracts I read to her tonight.
When I went upstairs to wash before beginning work, the church bells were ringing, and from across the valley came Stratford bells as if they were an echo of Dedham . The sun came through the clouds for a few minutes, and the wooded Suffolk hills seemed very clear and sharp. There was no sound of aeroplanes or cars, and I could hear a pony trap coming along Mill Road and turning past the “Marquis of Granby” towards Lawford, the pony’s trotting gradually fading away.
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