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Home at last – and glad to be back.  Just three days of bishops’ meeting to survive next week and then I might get the grass cut.  We did a flying visit to Donegal to sort out the aftermath of the great explosion – a visit enlivened by a young dog which nipped into the porch and removed one of Alison’s shoes while she was reviving her pot plants.  When she retrieved the [by now] mangled remains from the neighbour’s patio, she got the Peter Sellers ‘not my dog’ response.  Welcome to the new Ireland.

I’ve been reading Ben Elton’s ‘The First Casualty’ – about a man who declines to fight in the First World War because it is illogical.  Everybody else knows that it is illogical and hopeless but they can’t break loose from it.  Now when did I ever hear about anything like that before?

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