Dearest Diary,
Today has been one in which melancholy has befallen me. And yet this evening I find I am quite restless and unable or unwilling to retire for the night. Although I like to believe that Lady Pigeon remains in high spirits, she has developed a certain condition as she ages. It is certainly not proper to discuss such a condition, but I will bear it in opposition to the alternative. I feared for several days that her body was shutting down. I am delighted it is not so. And as part of my gloomy disposition, I took it upon myself to go for some exercise in the gardens. A brisk walk does not elude me. I was quite up to the task. If only such impulses would strike me at more frequent intervals.
Nevertheless it did brighten my spirits enough to help me prepare for the last of the weekly hymnsings. My fingertips have taken ill with such vigourous practice, but I shall arrive with my lute, ready to sing in the morning...
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