Friday, January 1, 2016

Random Flowers: January 1, 2015

January1, 1923

If I were a dissembler I should date this the last day of 1922. So it is to all intents.  We came back from Rodmell yesterday, & I am in one of my moods, as the nurses used to call it, today.  And what is it & why?  A desire for children, I suppose; for Nessa’s life; for the sense of flowers breaking all around me involuntarily. Here’s Angelica—here’s Quentin & Julian.  Now children don’t make yourself ill on plum pudding tonight. We have people dining.  There’s no hot water. The gas is escaping in Quentin’s bedroom—I pluck what I call flowers at random.
(D2 221)

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