Jim is here for a couple
of days leave so there’s no talking to Joan just now. She’s waltzing around like Ginger Rogers,
except she doesn’t need the high heels, being built like she is. I’m wondering
if there’ll be an engagement. Mrs F
reckons so. She’s still making up to
next door but one Bill, asking his advice about what to grow in the back
yard. I feel a bit left out, except for
my ticket window doctor. I’m going home
for a couple of days – got some leave myself.
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