Friday, July 7
It’s a thought
Even the wealthy holiday at home these days. Thankfully the temperature is minus three or four degrees on yesterday, though it hasn’t eased the continuous flow of people down from London. Car parks were full (of Porsche, Range Rover and Mercedes) a full thirty minutes earlier than usual. I loaded up the motor and got the hell out of town asap…. Now back at the homestead with a frosted glass of Samuel Smith’s (can you believe ‘Organic’) Lager, watching the tennis – Azarenka v Watson. Nabokov’s indescribable itch of rapture aside, my detachment is such I’m finding it difficult to differentiate between the two girls and a couple of racehorses.