God Help Us, Every One

Tidying the house for a friendly visit; Xmas Eve excitement for Pip and I – we have yet to convince L that it’s the season to be jolly.

On Saturday we travelled up to a (curiously empty for the Saturday before Xmas) Tunbridge Wells, and met my NY cousin Charlie and his friend Susan at the Pantiles. We lunched in The Ragged Trousers, which we found does good food. It was great to see Charlie, I hope it was worth taking a day out of his vacation to visit the Wells – looking at the surroundings of the older part with clean eyes, it probably was – it’s a lovely town, architecturally at least… The reason for meeting there? Charlie’s family (and ergo part of mine) started out there. His headed for the USA via Toronto (?); ours stayed here. Anyhoo, we wended our way to the top of the high street for a coffee, passing the cinema – boarded, shuttered and dilapidated. In my youth (I’m guessing the first film I saw there – or certainly ONE of the first films I saw there was “Oliver” which I think was 1967, so I was 7… I certainly saw a lot of films there, and certainly a lot of good formative films: a palace of dreams it was, now it’s falling down and vandalised. Oh well.

Yesterday gentling and tidying, and reading “Orlando” for my course. Bloody Vita Sackville-West drags my mind back to Sevenoaks, and thence thoughts of Lady B, still in the hozzer, looks like till they find her a place in a home of some kind as she is too frail to be discharged.

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