Picked strawberries at the farm. Played tennis for fifteen minutes with Lillian on an asphalt court without a net at a nearby hotel. Later went to the Neversink River where Eugene and I waded. On way back Eugene led the way calling to us every few minutes to follow him. Poor Sylvia was very tired and I had to carry her a good deal of the way. Eugene likes the country very much. Sylvia has to get adjusted. Eugene fell out of bed again.
He never wanted to play tennis on other than a clay court.
My father started a "diary" in 1945 (more accurately, a journal, covering both family and current events), and I'm going to see if this is a decent way to publish it. Since I'm doing it as a blog, to get to the beginning of the journal, you have to go to the beginning of the blog.
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