Just back from almost a week in Winchester.  I feel like St Peter`s toe in Rome, I have been so continually kissed , by friends, residents, ex residents, assorted Quakers, even Barry in the paper shop looked as if he might. It was heartwarming to be welcomed back and I did enjoy it.  But it was good too to get back to Ditchling and the ecstatic cat, and my comfortable bed.
My main reason for going was the leaving party of my dear neighbours, D and M who are moving Up North next Monday.  I also helped them a bit, mostly with packing up pictures of which they have an extraordinary large amount.  Interesting what we all hang up on our walls, once up there we are stuck with them for ever, and we hardly look at them. I got rid of most of mine and now I slightly regret it.
I am starting to get worried about my birthday party. I had one of those anxiety dreams last night when there was not enough food. Suppose it rains on the village green?  We will all be stuck in a dark barn, suppose nobody comes?