Little stupendous to report. Work spent writing and holding forth about trucks, erections, computers, and telecommunications. But a day when I felt comfortable in my skin and in what I was doing. Had an enjoyable drink after work, and reached home late tonight having scored cod and chips twice for me and the long-suffering Mrs Kenny en route.

Fish suppers are a guilty pleasure. I bought them in Hammersmith and tucked them inside my rucksack. They provided warm and comforting smells in the train coach all the way to Kew.

Went out for lunch today to the Blue Anchor pub on the river at Hammersmith with Andy and Steve. One of those pubs where there are interesting paraphernalia hanging from the ceiling. Such as tricycles, canoes, and historical pictures of the Oxford and Cambridge boat race which will occur this weekend between Putney and Chiswick. Personally I would rather watch a cactus grow than spectate at the boat race, but it is part of the sporting calendar. I say sink the toffs.

The war still goes on, and there is always a news programme about the war to be watched. I feel dreadful for everyone there. They are imagining that it is nearing a conclusion now they are at the outskirts of Baghdad. All I keep thinking about is the treaty of Versailles.