7November1996

Thursday 7 November
My dear folks,

The flat is full of humidity. I’ve spent the last hour ironing this a.m.’s wash. I don’t mind ironing so while I find it a useful exercise I don’t get a shining halo. It’s 16.30. The clouds have blown away for the moment & there’s a pink rimmed sky thru the study window where the sun is setting behind silhouetted roofs - all chimney pots & tv aerials. It’s been a lovely day after a showery night. I’ve really been in luck with the weather, missing the showers on the way to & from work. Winter winds have arrived ahead of winter temps, not much fun on the way in, but usefully at my back on the slightly uphill return. The temps aren’t far behind. November’s been warm so far but the blue zones (minus temps) are now creeping into the tv weather maps.

I fell into bed at 22.00 last night, as early as I can remember retiring in London. It’s usually well after midnight. But I was pooped after 2 heavy days & thin nights, partly my own fault for sitting up late to watch Total Recall with big Arnold. It was a hoot. This a.m. I spent a couple of hours sorting out the inevitable correspondence - banks & flat owners - before wandering down to the bank to pay someone’s bills & then back to the nursery Cathy for a second check on that garden fork you’re after. Your sketch reminded me of exactly what you’re after. Ironically, the nursery has an antique section in which there were Edwardian versions of what you wanted but the modern version was lacking. On the way back I nipped without much hope into a tiny hardware store run by an elderly Irish couple. I do so with hesitation because they don’t feel they have their money’s worth unless they get 15 minutes conversation out of you. But they had your fork, one of two they’d ordered specially for a customer. I compromised on 10 mins chat & then made my apologies.

Mum, I also have your hair goo (I think it’s what you want) which I’ll pop in the post. A big thank you Annie for your long update on affairs Canadiana. The battle to save the airline is not being much reflected in the media here but I have found plenty on the Internet. All strength to Kev’s arm! The idea of union leaders just calling a strike is now quite foreign in the UK. A ballot of members is required by law - a bit of Maggie’s inheritance which the coming Labour govt has no intention of repealing.

FRIDAY a.m. At that point, Freglet arrived for a chat & a drink. He’s to look after the flat while I’m in RSA from 17 to 28. He’s taken early retirement from Reuters & is buying a flat down on the south coast. He didn’t stay long as he was heading back to Brighton & I had a film date with my cousin, Judy. I cycled over to her & we hopped on the tube for what I thought was a trip into see “Jude”, a film she’d suggested. But our lines had crossed & we saw “Fargo” instead, an amazing movie reconstruction of a mid-sixties small town crime in the US which we both heartily enjoyed. It’s one of those films where the movie makers get all the little things right as well as the big things; it’s completely credible as well as being entertaining.

I joined Jud & the two friends she’s sharing a house with, for supper. It’s absolutely perfect for her - central & comfortable; she has her own flatlet downstairs & the use of the kitchen\living room upstairs. Afterwards, they watched an episode of a popular comedy series, Absolutely Fabulous, which I’m aware of you but have never sat down to before. They loved it. Fraid I wasn’t tuned in. I got back in time to read Jones’s fax & dive into bed. No sign of Mavis! A thump on the bed in the middle of the night indicated that he’d arrived back from somewhere & wanted food but the fat feline had to wait until I made an early rising to get this off to you.

Blessings
T