My Dear Friedrich,
So much for the Mother Shiptons who thought that it was all going to kick off today. In fact it was the most beautiful Autumn weather I can remember and the Northern Heights were heaving especially on the Heath where we had so many fantastic picnics back in the day. Oh, the chicken and roast veal and the leisurely Sunday papers and the setting the world to rights while the the children played hide and seek among the heather.
But I don’t get out much now. I spend more and more time thinking of Eastbourne or Ventnor or the time I went with Eleanor to take the waters at Karlsbad.
I’m getting old, Fred. I don’t like it, but there we are. In the end I just had a half at the Spaniards and fell asleep under a tree.