Tuesday April 1, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

We went over to Bradford this morning to meet Sue and Pete at Club Street where Peter installed a new kitchen sink and did the plumbing. I am very pleased with him really. Susan isn't the enormous mountain as in previous pregnancies and I pray she has a daughter. Surely not another uproarious boy? The children played well together considering the confined space. Ally went to the fish and chip shop and queued for almost an hour and returned with cold and greasy fayre. I do worry about all this work I am making for myself at Club St. It's two rooms stripped bare now and in six or seven weeks I am expected to have finished the lot. Oh dear. 

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Monday March 31, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Bank Holiday in the UK (except Scotland)

Ally in a mood because she feels bilious and bloated and out of sorts and lay in bed with Samuel until the afternoon. Jill phoned to say they would be here at 4, but didn't arrive until 5 and so we missed out on food. I was just about to tuck into a turkey leg when they appeared. ________. They left when I opened up at 7 o'clock. A quiet night. Chris worked, or perhaps I should say he showed his face. We had an extension until 11:30 but shouldn't have bothered taking it. People go away to caravans at Morecambe and such places at Easter - for some reason.

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Sunday March 30, 1986

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Easter Day

We roasted a turkey for Easter Day Sunday lunch. A lot of hard work and sweat for nothing. Ally didn't appreciate the big lunch, and the washing up went on and on. Samuel liked the candle on the table. Bessie and Frank phoned in the middle of the lunch and I sat eating alone for ages. Played on the floor with Samuel afterwards. We played at beds. I had to lay on the floor on a cushion sucking my thumb and play the baby. I am actually a baby. Frenzied night. Just Liz and I working. She shapes like a 'wet hen' as they say in Colne.

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Saturday March 29, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

My life is probably at its lowest ebb. Utter dejection and misery. Depression has set in and everything seems bloody futile. Easter Saturday. Just Ally and I tonight. No festivities. Someone asked me why we've given the annual 'Easter Bonnet Parade' a miss. Stuff Easter altogether.

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Friday March 28, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Good Friday. The 50th birthday of Auntie Hilda, who has gone off to Norfolk to see Ruby & Arthur for Easter. Poor H. She has now caught up with Mum. Mum will be forever 50, forever young, whilst we all grow steadily more older and more legless. Sunday hours in the pub today. Which came first? The Crucifixion, or Sunday hours in pubs on Good Friday? Did the pubs close early for the spectacle in Calgary perhaps? I won't be going up to Heaven, if I pursue this. Last Good Friday we were at Club St with poor Mum. It's all something of a blur now. Walking out to the bakery for hot cross buns. Dad's sad face. Mum's despair &c. Dad is now back at Horton taking in guests and cooking breakfasts and evening meals. Making beds, &c. Wouldn't Mum be proud of him?

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Thursday March 27, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

An awful day. Ally was in such a mood  and threatened to retire into private life at Club Street which sent me into paroxysms of remorse and self-loathing. What a puking beast I really am. So bloody childish, &c. Everyone else looked so sober whilst I grovelled around in a red-eyed stupor. "Michael. You are almost 31 for God's Sake." Alcohol has always got the better of me. The Royal Wedding is to be at Westminster Abbey on Wednesday July 23, at 11:30am. This shatters any ideas we have of a 'street party' and revelries here because we should, God permitting, be at Bradford with our baby George/Clemmie. Who knows though? No doubt the bride will be attended by half-brother Andrew and half-sister Alice, and not forgetting Prince William of Wales. It seems I wasn't the only casualty last night. Alan was dreadfully sick in a Leeds street after exiting Hollywood Days/Nights. That pub has such a silly name.

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Wednesday March 26, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

I have a minor attack of the runs. Not to worry. It's the quiz thing at Hollywood Days & Nights. I went down with Alan and Jennie in the pouring rain leaving Ally upstairs and in bed. I promised not to over do things and to return home before dawn with my faculties intact. Obviously, promises I cannot seem to keep. In town we found Karma, his friend, and Geoff, Phyllis, Terry, Doreen, Garry Rhodes, &c. George Bailey, of Hollywood Days was in his team which is annoying because LG said I couldn't be in mine. We lost, but by ony two or three points. Had I been playing we would have won. Daft questions such as 'to whom was Lauren Bacall married?' 'What is Margaret Thatcher's maiden name?' All silly, easy answers. Stayed on afterwards with George and his dreadfully common mistress, who replaced Debbie, who has left him. They want to stay on and keep the licence but he is now in contravention of his contract of employment. The regulars are talking of sending a petition to the brewery, but it will be quite wrong and futile. Home very drunk at God knows what time. Rendered speechless in the taxi. Lay in bed with the room furiously revolving. Ally quite annoyed.

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Tuesday March 25, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

This bloody problem with the car door is annoying. Appleyard's valued the the damage for insurance purposes at £100 but Frank says it isn't worth losing our no claims bonus and so Ally took the car around the corner to a little man with glasses and prodigious memory who said "Hello, Mrs Rhodes" - and he hadn't seen her since the Metro was bumped (June '85). The little man put the damage at £35 and the car is booked in for treatment on April 8-9. Sarah Collis phoned me last Friday. I didn't have room to say anything then. Bright and bubbly as usual. She had missed my TV appearance and was chatty and said she was hoping to come see us with Delia. Pigs might fly. We haven't seen Sarah for 2 years.

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Monday March 24, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Queen Mary.

Snow and ice today. Up at 7 today when Samuel came in for his dawn cuddle and rounds of toast. I opened the mail but had no cheque for my Fergie contributions to the YP. Jill Parkin has returned my my 1981 Di(ana) family tree, but not my latest creation. We went to Morrisons and then Ally collapsed for the remainder of the day looking pale and complaining of heart burn and tiredness. Lately we have had a wild, non-stop time. Downstairs now I am a TV celebrity with the customers going on about genealogy instead of discussing the barmaids tits. We've gone all cultural. Someone said I am a budding' genealogist. Bloody Hell, I flowered years ago. It is reported that the royal wedding will probably be on August 6. The Duke of Edinburgh has cancelled a factory visit citing a state occasion. Jack Collett asked who was Mary of Teck. Coincidentally she died on this day in 1953, aged 85, the widow of King George V and grandmother of the Queen. She was born at Kensington Palace the daughter of Princess Mary Adelaide of Cambridge (a granddaughter of George III) and was as English as I am. The Duke of Teck, Mary's father of course, was a satellite of the Royal House of Wurttemberg.

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Sunday March 23, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Palm Sunday

Up early, reasonably fit. Cannot understand the general sober condition of us all last night. Lynn was perhaps the most intoxicated - stealing the 'Constance Spry' flower arrangements as she did later on. Dad was quiet with an air of urgency about him. He left at 10 for Horton to receive his guests, saying he may miss the christening if he takes bookings. Very peculiar, but there you are. Lynn and Dave came to collect Thomas, who has been as good as gold, giving Samuel odd looks when he threw a wobbler over his scrambled eggs. We showed them our wedding video (which they had never seen before) and Lynn got upset seeing Mum boldly marching around Esholt churchyard. They left at 11. We lunched on roast chicken and watched 'Dallas' and 'The Colby's' when Samuel had his nap. I attempted to look at the Sunday papers. We have been so busy this week and have seen no news, other than Andrew and Fergie, of course. I plan to do a 'tree' for the YP showing all the Dukes of York together. It shouldn't be too complex. Worked tonight with Chris. Uneventful. Bed at 12:30.

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Saturday March 22, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Trixie: Tomorrow the World

To the wedding of Jacq and Ian at St James's, Seacroft, and afterwards at the Mercury, Garforth. A dismal, windy day. Ally and I went to town this morning and spent a fortune. More clothes than Jackie Onassis. Lynn and David came here at 2 and we went to the Cricketer's for just one slurp before crossing the green for the service. The vicar made a list of silly announcements of 'do's' and 'don'ts' before performing the ceremony. At the wedding breakfast with sat with Gina & Hugh Dawson (see Journal Apr '78), and Jacq's old Stanmore Drive flatmate who is nameless and who now resides in Belgium. Trixie gave her best 'Joan Collins'  impersonation in black and grey with feathers in the day and shimmering sequins in the evening. She burst into the evening 'do' threw her arms open wide and exclaimed: "Tomorrow, the world". Joy Critoph is a dear thing. Home, sober, at 1am.

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