Tuesday 13th February 1934

Birthday surprises! Letters and parcels! My twenty first – but nobody must know.
Nearly £4 in cash. Two lovely cakes, pastries, a wallet… Jolly fine letters… quite inspiring.

Dashed off a note of thanks to each person then hurried to TocH for another spell of painting. Just Ron and I. He told me of his embarrassment at a dinner, when he used a spoon instead of a fork. His host was a gentleman; he, too, used a spoon then. These strange, important conventions!

So now I am a man.
In theory.
Here’s to the next ten years! They will probably be the best ten of all. Life’s springtime… Wonder if I’ll think the same in 1944.

Now I light a cigarette with the thought: “Here’s to the next ten years!”
Written later as a pitiful anti-climax to the above noble sentiments. Borrowed some of the Foreman’s “Shag” and skilfully rolled a cigarette under his critical eye.