I don’t understand why exactly, but today was a funny day.  Me dad and me finished building a bunker in the back garden (for coal you dimwit, there was no war going on at the time!)

I also took the dog for a walk, and noted that the World Cup was going to start tomorrow.  ’31 days of pure football’, quoth I, although looking back now, it was only 29.

I went to bed at ten to 1, having watched a programme about the summer of 1966.  Apparently, something went on that year that hasn’t happened again since…