I’m fed up, bored stiff and I want to go home! I might as well start from the beginning of everything.
We had a fine old laugh packing for this holiday. Everything we saw, we packed ‘just in case’. We’ve brought four times as much stuff as Lena brought to England for three weeks. The two cases weigh a ton. We didn’t get to bed til 12 Friday and we were up again at 5.45. We found the coach ok with Lesley’s help and it left at 8.30 Saturday morning.
Read more 13th August 1961
Thanks for the last letter, number 45.
I’ve still got nothing else to write about except Lena. She’s a pet, she really is. I must get to Sweden somehow or other even if I have to swim there. It will be awful when she leaves especially if I know I won’t see her again.
Read more 9th August 1961
This probably won’t make much sense because I never can concentrate properly unless I have perfect quiet. It is Sunday morning – imagine Sunday morning and me up!- and the house seems to be full of people. So Lena and I have retreated to the bedroom to write letters.
Read more 6th August 1961
Isn’t life just too wonderful? Three weeks, two days and wow!........
And there are only four days before things begin to move up to that big climax. Honestly I have never been so excited or felt so wonderful in all my life. I’m definitely in a ‘glad to be alive’ mood. I love everybody but one person most of all. Everything has worked out so well, I can’t believe it. If you come home on the 22nd that means I’ll still have three days of my holiday left. I hope you fancy sight-seeing cos as much as I’d like to spend those three days alone with you I still have to think of Lena’s holiday.
Read more 30th July 1961
There’s bedlam upstairs at the moment. Jennifer was still awake when I went up there just now and she started fooling around, The outcome was Jennifer sitting in the middle of a pile of bedclothes on the floor. I did a five second dash downstairs. Now mum’s in there trying to sort out the pieces. Mad this family!
Read more 24th July 1961
I’ve got a lovely cigarette burn on my hand. Quite like old times. Well, seven months old times. I was talking (and according to dad I’d be dumb if I didn’t have any hands) and I sorta stabbed myself. Boy, did I yell. They thought a bomb had dropped on the office.
Read more 21st July 1961
D’you know something? I’ve come to the conclusion that I rather like you.
I feel happy. Don’t know why. The days are beginning to whizz by like anything. Five weeks Friday! I think that sounds better than 37 days, don’t you?
I’ve just written to Lena and made the final, final arrangements (and I’ve not seeing double I really do mean that twice). I’m meeting her either outside Customs or by the information desk. I sound pretty knowledgeable in my letter.
Read more 18th July 1961