Sunday, May 27, 1984


Heavy rain today prevents us from setting out on a planned hike from Gilsey to Birkslape. There seems little point in going out just to get wet.

So we're marooned in the caravan while the grey skies close down over the fells behind the farm and the rain batters and the wind blows. There's nothing to do but sit and read Saul Bellow’s The Victim. Mum and Dad walked in the rain to Owlands and called at Stonesdale on the way back.

Dad returned feeling ill with diarrhea and an upset stomach and Mum even talked about going home on Tuesday if the weather hasn't improved. We stayed inside all evening where it was at least warm and snug, and Mum and Dad listened to Billy Graham on the radio and I read my book.

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