Dreamed of foreign agents about to launch a nuclear missile from a house just west of our Sackville house; a screenwriter persuaded to come out of retirement to do a rewrite and getting so enthusiastic that he was late for breakfast, causing his wife to remember why she'd persuaded him to retire; passing by a cinema in the Beaches neighbourhood and seeing that they were soon going to play Zatoichi; wondering how great a mass was transformed into energy by the first A-bombs. [Just 700 milligrams at Hiroshima, and 2.3 kg at Eniwetok, according to my online research.]
My family came back from Kingston.
Sore throat.
Read the rest of the comic books I bought last week. They were mostly Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge, but there was also a western comic featuring the Rawhide Kid.
Donald, John, Kathrine and Rae came over for dinner, which was ham and macaroni. Kathrine liked my London photos.
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