Nothing fresh. Mac left to join his boat at 2 a.m. this morning. He came round to my cubicle several times to say Goodbye, but I was out. I went Saturday & Sunday to some woods near here. It is a beautiful place to spend an afternoon & evening. All the grass is hidden from sight by bluebells a foot high,- they’re hyacinths really, but they call them blue-bells. The weather is beautiful now. Of course it is nearly midsummer, so it ought to be. I am beginning to get quite decently brown again.
Two diggers came to say goodbye last night to the chap with whom I share my cube. It made me awfully homesick to hear them arranging when they would meet in Auckland when he followed on. It is funny how soon one forgets such common names as Shortland St, Customs St, & Khyber Pass. I had to think quite a little while before I could remember where Milford was once. (Two months ago) When I do come home, someone will have to come to meet me. Otherwise I may have difficulty in finding Paget St!
I’m a bit sick of the way they are running education at Codford. The heads are very unsympathetic. The scheme is just about a washout here. But the money is still coming to hand, so it doesn’t matter much.
I am going to try and to get leave to go up to Oxford to see Harry for three or four days during May week commencing 26-5-19. It is a sort of sports and visitors week at the Universities.
I dont seem to be overwhelmed with letters lately. Kind regards to everyone.