Sunday, March 13, 1983


Dad woke me up early to go “spawning” at Dengates. It's a place that never changes.

We wandered down through oak and birch woods to the canal and the long meadow and marsh and found a lot of frogspawn almost immediately. Further on, by the redbrick sewer house, the water was alive with the movement of frogs, although we didn’t actually see them. We wandered all the way along the marsh, crack of rifles from the rifle-range across the river, and finally clambered up the canal bank and back to the car.

On the way back we called in at Uncle Arnold’s. Janet was there—she’s expecting her baby in September. I felt awkward and wooden.

Robert and Carol had gone when we got back and Mum made a big dinner (real food!). I fell asleep, watched soccer on TV, and rang Grant. I felt at a bit of a loss at what to say, an awkwardness that I suppose will disappear again in time.

I have such a limited social circle here.

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