You do not currently have permission to view the full text for this document. Please sign in to an account with an active subscription or contact support.
My darling,
I have just worked it out that it was 47 years ago today that I won the Legion of Honour in the battle of Amiens. One of these useless facts but it reminds me that I wouldn't live my life again if I could help it. Luckily one isn't asked!
For once we have had a bad night due to – of all things – heavy traffic down Middle Street! There has been a continual roar of pea lorries, not only yesterday which we didn't mind, but through the night. The roar, the flash of headlights, and a loud rattling of the window panes in our bedroom – if this went on long or often I wonder if it would affect the fabric of the Cottage.
… I wonder how you can possibly get so much crammed into the time before you come down. I am sure you must not extend your stay after Friday or you will get no Norfolk holiday at all …
I have not been able to write much but I have done quite a lot of pretty stiff reading. If I could write my two reviews and get them out of the way I would feel happier.
It does make one learn something to do these jobs, but I always feel “Oh, if only I hadn't agreed! How much more time I would have!” But in fact it is only partly true: with me the worst thing is
the awful inertia which I seem hardly able to overcome. Yet Money-Kyrle said the other day he could not understand how I managed to get so much work done. So I can't appear to be so frightfully slothful as I always feel. It's queer isn't it? But even you talk of never getting anything done. So perhaps it's just a disease – an exaggerated sense of our, or at least my, importance that makes me think I can do so much more …