I had one of the oddest dreams I’ve ever had last night. The point where I remember it from is being in a very dusty oldfashioned shop with tall wooden cupboards and odd bits of machinery. I don’t remember the shopkeeper at all. Where this begins was with looking at an engraving of a pair of rather spiffy lace knee-highs (which I often wear). I said I liked them, and the shopkeeper said, ah, we have rather a special process. We can just put that picture on this xerox machine, d’you see, and in just a moment, you’ll find a real pair in the duplicate tray. So I told him to go ahead, and we all watched the exit slot of the xerox machine with some interest. What emerged was a small, flat pork pie, which fell to the floor because the collection tray was missing. I had taken off my sandals, in order to try on the lace stockings, and the pie glided purposefully towards one of them and took a bite out of it. Since it was obviously malevolent, I shied something at it, and it shot under a cupboard. The shopkeeper and I routed for it with an old walking stick, producing a collection of dust-bunnies, old red shoelaces, and cotton reels. The pie resisted arrest and was heard growling … At that point the old dog started barking and woke me up. We now have a new bathroom, quayte layke a dream of modern life, or at least, noticeably more like one than the bathroom as it was. Tomorrow we hope to move back to our own quarters. But of all the dreams and visions of the day, the most welcome has been the (not in himself, unusually lovely) person of the Recommended Slater. Getting hold of this individual, whom we have been on the trail of for about 18 months, has been like hunting the Unicorn only with less wear & tear on virgins. Anyway, he turned up today, at long last, and has put up scaffolding. He decided to start on the wall alongside my study, which has caused conniptions. One leg of the scaffolding impedes my door: Miss Kit can get out, and so can Miss BF, but I can’t. The animals are creatures of fixed habit. My study door is THEIR door. I will have to take Miss Kit for her last ablutions via the front and what she will have to say about this, I can’t think.