THE GARDEN BECOMES... A PARK!

THE GARDEN BECOMES... A PARK!

S A T U R D A Y,  1 1  M A R C H

Ma got me a new battery and I listened to a lot of French radio. Heard the Mini-Max Hit Parade and it really is hilarious. There's one DJ who speaks perfect French with a cockney accent! I think he's called Rosko. 

Daddy knocked down the fence at the end of the garden today, about eighty feet of it, and now the garden opens onto the 'estate' and looks more like a park - it really is fab!!!

Ma and Pa went out tonight to an architecture dance thing. I rang up Anya and we chatted about the marvellousness of Leonard Woolf last night, and that chap on Juke Box Jury who has the same creases in his cheeks as Finkelstein. Chump and me watched The Monkees, it was super, and at the end Peter was flying in the air and he did a little wink and a grin and looked so utterly adorable Chump and me fainted.

I got terrible aches. I got so worried about them I was shivering and felt awful. Had a sherry, it helped.

WHY DON'T INTELLECTUALS BELIEVE IN GOD?

WHY DON'T INTELLECTUALS BELIEVE IN GOD?

THE INTELLECT OF MR FINKELSTEIN

THE INTELLECT OF MR FINKELSTEIN