It's no good. Try as I might, I can't love the first day of British Winter Time. It's too dark, drizzly, gloomy out there. Lovely Nurse Harriet has resorted to writing to the Observer for travel tips to NY - can she still afford it with a sinking pound? On her wages, Lord only knows..
And I ache and feel singularly insecure in my new-style dressing. Curses, curses. Stick another log on the fire and watch Barbara Cartland on tv. It's the only way forward.
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