There isn't a reason

Robert and Carol rolled up with their cat George at about dinnertime; I’d forgotten they were coming. Robert was his normal, exuberant self. He's so enthusiastic and full of life that it rubs off on everyone. I really wish I was like that.

The three of us went into Farnshaw to look for a green and white rugby shirt for Robert. We couldn’t find one, but enjoyed wandering around joking and poking fun at one another. On the way back to the car we walked past Tim Moyles and Sharon H.; I saw them but for some reason didn’t say anything, and heard Sharon’s sharp “Don’t speak then!” behind me. I quickly apologised for “not seeing” them, and tried to work out why I hadn’t opened my mouth, but couldn't; there isn’t a reason. Embarrassment maybe? We went to Knowlesbeck where I saw some good jackets in the Oxfam shop and we looked round a junk/antique shop. Robert bought books, including a 1928 Pip & Squeak Annual and a book on French drama from 1845. I bought The Encyclopaedia of the Labour Movement Vol 2 from about 1927-28.

We got home to find England blundering against Scotland. Pathetic. Robert and Carol went at about six, leaving George. Most of the evening passed arguing with Mum and Dad.