The radio behind the bar of the Commercial at Esholt announces the arrival of 1974. We all kiss and link arms in the singing of 'auld langs ayne'. Denny, as usual, is emotional at the passing of the old year. By 12.15 Uncle Jack complains he is on the verge of starving to death so we all leave, in dense fog, for Pine Tops.
The party is a tremendous success. Andy, Chris, Linda, Christine W, Peter Mather arrive, followed by MM and Marita. A couple of police officers arrive (as guests) and the party is underway. Uncle Harry is drunk, along with Auntie Hilda. Poor Uncle Tony sleeps in the lounge. The Blackwells came in for an hour or two. Truly a fantastic evening. Chris, in keeping with his previous New Year record, was in a terrible mood. He'll be in trouble next week for not going to Laura's party. Everyone agrees that Mum and Dad are tremendous parents.
Very few people go home, and by 7am most people have fallen asleep in all sorts of places. Cousin Jackie, Neil, Al and Martyn and I awake at about 10 in the lounge. Mr Graham collects Andy, Christine and Linda.
Spend the rest of the day relaxing in front of the tv. My throat is burning and dry, but it isn't down to drink. I consumed very little last night. Poor Auntie Hilda was blind drunk, after knocking back the contents of a whole bottle of Bacardi. She kept calling me: 'My favourite nephew.'
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
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Thursday April 26, 1984
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