Wednesday, September 23, 2009

23 September, 1910

This novel isn't exactly what I expected, but I can't put it down. Who will Sir Willoughby marry? Laetitia or Clara? 

I know I must concentrate on drafting up these provisions lists for our first season's sledging journeys, as we really need to know what supplies will be necessary to take on in New Zealand. All the men know is that I'm cooped up in my cabin all day, presumably working on it, but most of the time I'm lying on my bunk reading this book. I try, I really do. But sitting there in front of all those facts and figures and lists makes my head spin. 

Wonder what's for dinner. I'm starving. 

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