I think I may be going potty. A young friend, scarcely sixty, has come to help me have a clear-out. First sign of pottyness – 18 walking sticks! Some in the junk room, some in the shed. Also found: two very small canoe paddles – red handles, white blades. Must have been for the kids, who are both now about fifty. Even their three children are far too old to make use of them. They are all at one of these so-called unis; but then again Oxford and Cambridge Unis have a boat race, don’t they? Not sure if it’s canoes, though. Never seen it, but don’t think it’s canoes. Ring at front door bell yesterday. Bloke outside with a packet. I saw at once that he was a foreigner; so I said in a foreigner-friendly tone, ‘Oh, hello, are you Polish?’ Most of them are nowadays. ‘Naw,’ he said...
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