I don’t think I did anything at all today, apart from stroke George, wander around, listen to records and generally be bored.
I awoke at about half past seven to hear loud voices. Apparently George had discovered Andrew’s sandwiches which were hidden near the bread bin and Dad had walked into the kitchen to find him eating all the chicken out of them.
What else happened today? I just can’t think. I watched the Test for a while until bad light stopped play at 12.45 p.m., and then I had a bath.
In the late afternoon, after thinking all about yesterday, I did a ridiculous thing. A little booklet Andrew got at June’s “Santana” concert in London has a lot in it about Carlos’s search for “inner peace and freedom” by following the teachings of Sri Chinmoy. Chinmoy claims that happiness is obtainable by “meditating regularly, smiling soul-fully and loving unendingly” so, in an attempt to see what it is all about I suppose, I sat on my bed with my legs crossed, eyes closed and arms folded. I sat with my back to the wall and played “Oneness” which is becoming one of my favourite Santana albums. I sat like that for perhaps 15 minutes – I must’ve looked a real loony – until half-fivish when I was brought down to earth by Mum shouting that I had to take the cat out.
I stood in the pouring rain while George dug holes and prowled around under the fir tree. Andrew got home at his usual time and Dad came home shortly after with Nanna P. and tales of Kenneth + Shirley.
In the evening I watched a programme called “Romer’s Egypt” about a self-styled cockney Egyptologist called John Romer, his expedition to the Valley of the Kings to look for a priest’s tomb. Perhaps I could do archaeology at University?
As I write this I’m crouched on my bed. I’ve got to sleep downstairs tonight. I’m sick of it, especially since I can’t go to bed because Mum, Dad and N.P. are watching a horror-film.