Friday
Grey sky, and snow falling as I
left soon after 8. Went out this morning
and had my haircut – much overdue.
Barber’s shop full of Americans, as usual. They seem to have nothing else to do.
Snowing hard when I came out, and
kept on intermittently all day. Called
at the Holly Trees. Sisson was there, having
called in to see about the summer-house.
The place is certainly dilapidated, with holes in the roof, part of the
ceiling down, some boards torn off, no glass in the windows. The pseudo-classical plaques on the back wall
are still well-preserved. Sisson is
determined to do all he can to prevent its destruction, and went off to see
Duncan Clark. It is with petty, spiteful
little vandalisms such as this that the Borough Engineer and his clique hope
to keep things going until better times, when they can tackle something really
worthwhile, such as Trinity Church, the Culver St. houses, or even the Roman
wall.
By the way the Culver St house,
where Castoligni lives, was sold by auction on Wednesday for £1200. Clifton, the dentist next door in Queen St,
bought it. Poulter took Sisson over to see
the interior this morning, and during conversation Castoligni, who has lived
there about 15 years, said he had always thought the place was Victorian. So many things seem to be credited to
Victoria – the Curator told Ald. Blomfield that Gray’s summer-house was
probably built in 1850.
This afternoon the sky cleared
for about half an hour, then snow came harder than ever – great, fat, swirling
flakes which whirled along the roads and began to lay in corners and crevices. I suddenly thought of myself as a very tiny
child, screwing my little head sideways against the window-pane, trying to see
where the snow was coming from. Mother
laughed and said, -
“Faster,
faster,
White
alabaster”
Strange incident this afternoon. I have been a little worried about getting
somewhere to live after next week, having found nothing yet, when into the
office came a Mrs Rogers, offering to let a small bungalow at Layer, suitable
for an agricultural worker. I at once
arranged to see it on Tuesday, and I think it would suit very well. It is only 3.5 miles from Colchester, and is
well away from the aerodromes.
Actually I prefer the north side
of the Stour, as we do not get so many enemy ‘planes over here as they do south
of Colchester, and Layer is only 6 miles from the sea, but all the same I may
have to take it. The cottage I should
like is one in a lane between Stratford and Dedham, but I believe there is no
water there.
It was strange that this woman
should come in with such an offer at the very moment I need a house, and it
made me think of my “good fairy” of the old days, who always protected me so
faithfully.
To Higham at 7.30. Very cold and dark. Thick clouds.
No light, but the motor was running, I suppose to keep it warm.
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