Transit

Mum and Dad woke me up when they went out shopping at nine or so because Robert was coming round today to pick the rest of his stuff up. I lay half-awake until 9.30 when I heard a vehicle pull up outside. It was Robert, in a Ford Transit van; I helped him load it up with all the remaining boxes of books from the garage, some of which had disintegrated due to the damp. He was his usual scruffy self and in a good mood.

He stayed until eleven when Mum and Dad came back, and then I went into Easterby with Dad, who was working at two. Not a breath of wind today, just a light haze about, blurring the edges of the clouds and making them indistinct yellow smudges. I took four library books back and was fined £0.80p. Up on the Social Sciences floor I took out The Right To Useful Unemployment by Ivan Illich and Robert Hingley's Joseph Stalin: Man and Legend, and then went to Praxis where I bought a copy of the Socialist Standard and Nove’s Economic History of the USSR. I also bought new shoes, nothing outrageous. I walked home and felt really pleased for some reason.

The rest of the day passed by listening to Athletic’s 0-3 trouncing by Cross End. I watched TV in the evening and drifted to bed at about ten.