1936, this day

We’ve been getting things ready for the village festival, or rather, for our small part in it.  We were volunteered to run a stall – there are a number of wine bottles wrapped in paper; you pay £1 for a bottle of your choice and unwrap it to discover whether it’s a sealed bottle or one refilled with water.  I’ve no idea how popular the stall will be but if we sell out, we’ll make a profit of £50.  Actually, £49.99 but I’ll put the penny in.  And, through judicious buying (helped by Waitrose’s 25% off wine sale earlier this month) plus a few donated bottles, I’ve brought the odds down to 4 to 1 against winning.  It’s taken ages, though.  All those screw-top bottles of wine to drink!  And then to fill with water and wrap.  LT did the latter this morning, it took nearly two hours.

I’ve also made a couple of cakes – a fruit cake and a chocolate cake.  I suspect that LT might buy back one of them, actually – not that he need feel obliged, I don’t expect him to.  It’s just that he clearly liked the look of them.

Today would have been Russell’s 80th birthday.  He was so convinced he’d live into his 90s and beyond and I believed that too, until his short final illness.  Of course, I think of him daily – frequently every day.  I don’t know if or when that will ever cease and I don’t see why it should.  He was an open-hearted man and I hope and believe he’d want me to be happy with LT.  I know he’d be really pleased that I’ve shelved plans, thanks to Tim, to move from here – and that I’m keeping his old car for the time being.  I’ll keep it longterm if I can get it more reliable – the fuel supply, which is gravity-fed, peters out sometimes and the engine cuts out.  You have to pull over and wait for it to drip through again.  But it’s a lovely car to drive.

I continue to count blessings.  And think lovingly of those in trouble.

 

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