The government's veto on publication was declared unlawful by the Court of Appeal last year, and upheld by the Supreme Court in March. Source BBC.
The Prince of Wales tried to influence former Prime Minister Tony Blair's government on issues such as grammar schools, alternative medicine and GM food.
I'm reminded of Omar Khayyám's quote: 'The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.'
So—once you've written your thought on paper, or on the internet, you can never take back your words. Bears thinking about.
My mother kept many of my letters written during my early adulthood. I'm glad of it—glad, because I have a record of the way I thought and behaved back fifty years ago. Here—I'll be brave and publish one on this blog.
My goodness, time does fly by. Its nearly time for you to come over to Melbourne. Well less than a month anyway...
Today, I am wearing the grey angora dress which we both know so well, with the collar turned up and around the outside my pearl. I have shortened the sleeves to above the elbow and taken the tabs at the waist out. My hair is piled up on top of my head. Do you think you'd know your Frankie?
It is so distracting to type a letter and work the switch at the same time – I can never decide whether I should concentrate on one or the other.
Outside it is drizzling and drizzling and drizzling. No one would ever know it should be spring. Yesterday started off with a wonderful burst of sunshine, but it faded very soon. Oh well, summer isn't much longer.
I think the reason for my not being able to think of anything to say is that I am worried about Gray. He just rang me up and got very cross about nothing at all until he had worked himself into a fury, and he hung up feeling very cold. It is mainly because he is at a boring time in his job, when there is no more room to sell in his journal, so he feels at a loose end. But what can I do to cheer him up? I have never worked so hard as I do here at work, so I am always tired. I am always thinking up new ways to make him happy – yet I always give up too soon. Ah sweet mystery of life.
Gray will be doing some carpentry for his landlord for the next couple of weekends for the money. He really is very clever with his hands. Comparable to that father of mine – whom I have always been proud of.
All the people at work are terribly sweet – especially the women. For a while they were a bit cross with me, but now they couldn't be nicer. Just goes to show what a little patience and determination will do.
Gray just rang up again to cheer me up. He said he was glad I wasn't cross. Sometimes he can be just like a little boy. I suppose there is a lot of appeal in that as well as the manly virtues (if there are such things.)
I am wondering how my little sisters are. Now let me think. Do I owe Robyn a letter? I can't remember whether I answered her last one or not. I must get straight onto that. She'll think I have deserted her.
It's a strange thing – my love for my sisters, and it seems that everyone has the same feelings. No matter how much I fought with them, when we were younger, and thought I really hated them, I just miss them all the time and I always wonder what they are doing.
Well, I must finish now as the paper is running out. I'll try to write to the girls right now, but I never know whether I'll be busy or not from one second to the next. Looking forward to seeing you,
Your loving daughter, Francene.
Ah—a blast from the past.
Have you kept any letters?