September Diary

 Late September is, as it often says here, when I really should be back at school. My friend reads Louis MacNeice's Autumn Journal and, if it weren't for the latest incarnation of the battiness of our libertarian government, we hope for some sanity.

The interminable days of August seem like they'll never go away although one knows they eventually will but once they have these more lovely and more temperate days immediately zip by and are soon gone.

But with King Alexander being exactly the right horse to set up the autumn campaign with at Warwick yesterday, we can look forward to some interesting and, let's think, survivable sport while books worth reading flow in, through and either onto the shelves or back to the library.

In a moment of madness, just because I heard a Shangi-La's track I didn't know, I bought the CD. That might not be a long-term top of the playlist prospect but I'll like having such a thing.

And so, one would have it no other way. This is the promised land one spent all those years going to work to earn and if one doesn't make use of it now one only has onself to blame.