Meg would throw a fit. I wonder how she is doing now, I miss her most dearly. Little Christopher should have had his breeching party last week. Last I saw him he was growing to be quite handsome. I do not see them very often now, not since I became a Sea Dog. Margaret disliked my change in occupation, and worries habitually (and justifiably, I suppose) about the dangers, but now she can finally buy all the things she fancies when she goes to the shops in Cheapside. When I was a mere fishmonger I couldn't give her those Venetian pearls she wanted or the shot silk gloves misted with gentle fragrance. I wish I could be there more often as Christopher grows up, though. I hear he is doing quite well at petty school. In a year or so I shall have him attend grammar school, as I should have procured enough wealth by then.
It has been well over two hours, I presume, and there is still no sign of the Spanish fleet, but we should be meeting them soon on their way east. Our spies have pieced together that they are heading to the Spanish Netherlands so the Duke of Medina Sidonia can join forces with the Duke of Parma. If this be the case, we have to intercept them in these narrow seas. This will not be too difficult, I wager, as they will not pass an amicable harbor, considering they do not have quite a friendly history with Protestant Frenchmen. There is a sort of tacit edginess in the air, as if a serpent is to emerge from the depths at any moment. I almost long for this war to commence. Staying for it is quite harrowing on the nerves. Last night I could not sleep, so I borrowed a copy of "Book of the Duchess" from Jack to read. Meg adores Chaucer's works. I previously had never read anything written by him, but it was quite enjoyable. I still prefer the timeless Classics, though. Mother had a stack in Greek and Latin, and she unwearyingly taught me to read them as a young child.