27 November, 1910

Lovely evening with Kathleen and the Kinseys. They have been most good to us. I have given Kinsey power of attorney in my absence and he is to be my agent here in Christchurch.

After our walk last night, Kathleen set to massaging my feet, rather lovingly, and insisted I take care of them because they had so very far to walk and she intended to have the first dance with me upon my return. I'm afraid I gave her the impression she was being a bit soft about it all, and of course it did tickle -- but she is right, you can take care of all you want but if you let your feet go, it's over. So I assured her I would and that seemed to placate her for the time being.

I must not forget to bring that lovely little can of curry powder she snuck in for me among my personal things. How it will enliven the hoosh on those dreadful treks I can only imagine. I wish I'd had some last time around.

Have decided simply to ignore Amundsen: we shall keep to our proposed schedule as it is sheer folly to alter one's plans in the face of the "unknown." Besides, Markham doesn't set much stock in the Fram's ability to sail anywhere in a timely fashion, so all this worry might be for naught.

23 October, 1910

I don't know why people make such a fuss about what I said. 

It only stands to reason that when one engages the elements on ventures such as this, fate and providence have a vital role to play. One cannot determine the weather, say. One cannot foresee events beyond one's ken. One has to take into account the idea that fortune is on your side just as one takes into account provisions lists and sledging teams and geography and all the rest of it. And I see no reason why fortune should not smile upon us. 

And if she doesn't, well, there's nothing on earth that can be done for it. If luck isn't on your side, you're done for. 

I really miss a good curry. I don't suppose Bowers has packed Curry powder.