Tuesday, July 28, 1981


I dreamed that Prince Charles was machine-gunned at the Wedding. It’s even getting to me! Four more prospectuses this morning.

Grant came over at one and at three we went into Easterby; it was so incredibly warm. We made the obligatory call at Praxis and I bought a couple of paperbacks. While I was upstairs I overheard a superb conversation in the back room/café about Marxism and anarchism and the First International, etc. I bought a pack of 42 joss-sticks at Jennifer Gentle Boutique.

Grant stayed for my homemade tea and after he'd left, I watched the Royal Fireworks all evening. Jeremy’s coming to play tennis, so I’ll be able to escape the RW after-all!

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