The postman has just arrived. I stood at the door and grabbed the items as he pushed them through the letterbox.
Mrs S called. I was going to ask her what she was doing on this day in May 1967 but last year she said I don’t know! Proof if ever there was that no matter how momentous the occasion, details may slip with time.
I’m now on, or in, the formal process by which I firmly wave goodbye to the roaring 40s.