I thought we might try some past diary entries again.
January 1 1994 was a Saturday. We (Eleri, me and the two boys) travelled back from Cwmbran where we'd been staying with my mam and dad (no longer with us sadly). I'd been at the funeral of a deacon from my home church the day before (Mr Harwood - who had the endearing knack of putting in aitches where they shouldn't be and leaving them out where they should be). Eleri was not well and the doctor had to come (highly unusual). She coughed so much her ribs were sore. I felt tired and was on a post Christmas come down with lots to do. The place was a bit of a mess and I stayed up late watching TV.
January 1 1994 was a Saturday. We (Eleri, me and the two boys) travelled back from Cwmbran where we'd been staying with my mam and dad (no longer with us sadly). I'd been at the funeral of a deacon from my home church the day before (Mr Harwood - who had the endearing knack of putting in aitches where they shouldn't be and leaving them out where they should be). Eleri was not well and the doctor had to come (highly unusual). She coughed so much her ribs were sore. I felt tired and was on a post Christmas come down with lots to do. The place was a bit of a mess and I stayed up late watching TV.
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